Harts of Arizona Series

by Yahrah St. John

  “Sheikh Abdul al’ Mahmud, right?” Jeremy pressed.

  Amar would have preferred his heritage not be revealed in such a careless manner. He would have preferred Rylee hear it from his lips. “That’s correct.”

  “A sheikh?” Rylee’s voice rose ever so slightly. “Well, that would explain it.”

  “Explain what?” Amar and Jeremy asked at the same time.

  “Oh, nothing,” Rylee said. “Listen, I’m going back to the room to go check on Camryn. I think we’re done here until this afternoon’s workouts.”

  She started to walk away, but Amar called, “Can I offer you a ride?”

  “I don’t take rides from strangers,” Rylee responded. Seconds later she was gone, leaving Amar and Jeremy alone.

  “Listen, Mr. Bishop,” Jeremy began.

  “Please, call me Amar.”

  “Amar, it is,” Jeremy said, turning toward him. “Rylee is spoken for.”

  Amar glanced at Rylee’s retreating figure. “Does the lady know that? Because if I’m not mistaken, she removed your hand from her waist mere moments ago. That leads me to believe that she is very much a free woman.”

  “Not for much longer, if I have anything to say about it,” Jeremy replied.

  “Then let the best man win,” Amar said. He’d never walked away from a fight in his life, and he wasn’t about to do it now. He wanted Rylee, and he wouldn’t allow anyone, including Jeremy Wright, to get in his way.

  “How were the stables?” Camryn asked when Rylee returned to the room shortly after her encounter with Amar Bishop.

  “Fine,” Rylee said absentmindedly as she walked over to the wet bar. She unscrewed a bottle of water and drank generously as she paced the floor.

  Camryn eyed her suspiciously. “Is everything okay? You look a little tense.”

  “Why would you say that?” Rylee’s voice rose an octave.

  “Because you haven’t sat since you got here. Come.” She patted the couch where she was sitting. “Tell me all.”

  Rylee stopped pacing long enough to walk over to join Camryn. “There’s nothing to tell, really. I went to the stables and watched the morning workouts. Jeremy tried to get a little close for comfort, as always, and then the son of a sheikh made a pass at me. See, nothing to it!”

  “Whoa, whoa! Time-out.” Camryn put up her hands in the shape of a “T”. “Did you say the son of a sheikh made a pass at you?”

  Rylee let out a deep breath. She couldn’t believe it had happened herself. There she’d been, minding her own business, when Amar Bishop had come out of nowhere and interrupted her peaceful world.

  When she’d glanced up, she’d seen his sexy-fine ass looking down at her, and she’d lost her footing. He thought he’d startled her, and she hadn’t been about to correct him. The truth was, she’d been overcome by the mere sight of him. Amar Bishop was not like any other man she’d ever come across in Tucson. Not only was he fine and sexier than any man had a right to be, but he also had an air about him that commanded attention. She hadn’t known he was of noble descent until Jeremy had spilled the beans, but that didn’t explain why she’d had such a potent reaction to the man — didn’t explain why she’d felt heat and electricity at his touch.

  “Earth to Rylee.” Camryn waved a hand in front of Rylee’s face.

  Rylee blinked and snapped out of her reverie. “Sorry. What did you say?”

  “Wow, whoever he was must have put some spell on you, because I haven’t seen you this glassy-eyed since, since …” Camryn searched her memory for a time when she’d seen Rylee so infatuated and came up empty. “Well, since never. What the heck happened at those stables?”

  “That’s the thing, Camryn. Nothing.” Rylee ran her fingers through her curly tresses. “Then this guy walked into the pen where I was tending to Dreamer, and I was literally knocked off balance. And when he offered me a hand, the sparks that flew between us were off the record books. It was crazy.”

  Camryn’s eyes grew large with excitement. “So what happened next?”

  “Jeremy found us and got all territorial by putting his arm around my waist like I was his girlfriend.”

  “Girl, men recognize when another wolf is sniffing around their catch.”

  Rylee stared at her friend in bewilderment. “Seriously, Camryn, you’re calling me his catch?”

  Camryn shrugged. “If the shoe fits. I bet Jeremy wanted to pee on you to ward him off.”

  Rylee fell backward onto the couch in a fit of giggles. “Girl, you are too much.”

  “I don’t think I’m too much. Sounds like this sheikh’s son was too much for you. What’s his name again?”

  “Amar Bishop.”

  “The Amar Bishop?”

  “Yeah, what of it?

  “Well, Amar Bishop happens to be the next Steve Jobs or Mark Zuckerberg. He’s started up his own Internet company, and it’s now making billions, like Facebook. He’s diversified his portfolio with sound investments in publishing and television.”

  “How do you know all this?”

  “I know some people think I’m a ditz, but I do watch and read the news,” Camryn replied, snapping her fingers. “And as you said, the man is drop-dead sex on a stick.”

  “Yes, but I don’t date men like Amar. He may be his own man, but he’s too smooth, too slick. I bet he’s used to women’s panties just falling at his heels. I won’t be another notch on his bedpost.”

  “Would that be so bad?”

  “Camryn!”

  Camryn shrugged. “What’s wrong with a little vacation romance? Weren’t you just saying that Jeremy doesn’t light your fire? I bet Amar could. He’s probably just the man to awaken the sexuality you like to keep so hidden.”

  “I do not.”

  “I call it like I see it,” Camryn said. “And if one touch from him can get you this fired up, just imagine if you had all of him.”

  “That’s what frightens me. There would be nothing but scorched earth.”

  “How’s the Arabian looking?” Amar’s father asked Amar over the phone later that morning after he’d returned to the hotel.

  “He’s looking well. The odds are five to two. Some have an unknown finishing in the top five.”

  “Second place is not good enough, Amar, as you very well know. I will settle for nothing but taking the top spot at the Derby.”

  Amar fumed. He did not appreciate his father’s tone. “I recognize your need to win, Father, as it matches my own; but even I can’t predict how a horse will run.”

  “Which is why I have ensured the very best trainers and jockeys. You were supposed to be overseeing this effort.”

  “I have, and I am.” Amar tried to contain his fury.

  “Make it happen,” his father replied. “And what’s this I hear that you’ve fallen prey to the fancies of yet another woman?”

  Amar looked around the room for Sharif. The little devil! He was supposed to be keeping his confidence, not ratting him out at the first opportunity. “I haven’t fallen prey. I am capable of keeping my desires in check and keeping my eye on the races. I just have a little competition.”

  “From whom? No one is more educated and sophisticated than you. I saw to that.”

  Trust the Sheikh to bring everything back to him and what he’d done for Amar, not what Amar had accomplished on his own.

  “I don’t want to discuss this.”

  “You might as well. I’ll find out one way or another.”

  Amar wanted to tell his father to stay out of his business and keep his eye on the continent, but instead he answered honestly, in case Sharif said differently. “She’s accompanying the owner of Dreamer, the long shot I mentioned.”

  “Then take him out!”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Not in the literal sense. But if you can neutralize him a
nd get his focus off the Derby and on fighting for this woman, all could be yours.”

  Amar sat back in his seat. His father was ruthless, but why would that surprise him? “Well … thanks for the advice … Father.” This was a rare, uncharacteristic fatherly moment. Usually the Sheikh acted like he could care less about what happened to Amar — at least, that’s how Amar felt. Wonders never ceased.

  “Heed it. Because I won’t have a son who is a loser.” The phone went silent. Bam! His father had shattered the moment.

  “I’ll remember that,” Amar said to the dial tone.

  Chapter 3

  “I don’t know, Camryn. This dress is a bit revealing.”

  “If you mean eye-catching, then I see nothing wrong with it.” Camryn smacked Rylee’s hand away from touching the one-shoulder, red spandex mini-dress she’d talked her into wearing along with matching fire-engine red peep-toe heels and dangling earrings. “It’s about time you caught someone’s eye.”

  “If I wanted Amar to notice me, he definitely will in this dress,” Rylee said somewhat self-consciously as she looked at herself in the mirrored reflection of the elevator cab. The dress barely reached her thighs. It was indecent.

  “I doubt you will have to try,” Camryn said. “You did just receive nearly an entire florist shop of roses this afternoon.”

  Rylee sighed. She hadn’t forgotten that a dozen of the most beautiful roses in a variety of colors had been delivered to their suite with a note that said, “Dinner. Tonight.” When she hadn’t responded and called the number on the card within the hour as instructed, another dozen had been delivered. She’d thought it a fluke until a third dozen had arrived. She’d finally called the number listed and agreed to a drink, since she and Camryn already had dinner plans with Jeremy.

  Rylee thought Amar would have answered, but instead it had been Sharif, who’d advised her that Amar would be less than pleased with her answer, but that he would relay the message. And so, she and Camryn were on their way to the lounge to meet Amar, who had no idea she was showing up with reinforcement; but Rylee needed to keep her cool, and Camryn would be a great buffer.

  They exited the elevator and walked the marble floor to the hotel bar. It was filled with other cocktail goers. Amar and Sharif were in a secluded corner and stood when Rylee and Camryn entered the room. So he’s not alone either! Rylee smiled.

  Amar greeted them when Rylee stepped to the table. “I’m so glad you could join us.” His eyes scanned every inch of her, from her hair to the length of her mini-dress. He missed nothing. When his eyes finally returned to her face, he gave her a quirky smile.

  Rylee felt color rising to her cheeks, but she maintained her cool. “Did I have much choice? I believe my room would have become a florist shop if I hadn’t agreed to your request.”

  Amar shrugged. “I know how to get what I want.”

  “And should I take it you want me?” Rylee asked.

  Amar didn’t answer. It wasn’t polite to talk about such matters when they had guests, so instead, he pulled out a chair from the table. “Please, have a seat.”

  Rylee looked at Camryn, who shrugged and waited for Sharif to pull out her chair. They sat down simultaneously. Amar and Sharif soon joined them.

  Amar signaled a uniformed waiter, who immediately came over to take their order. “What can I get for you, Mr. Bishop?”

  “We’ll have a bottle of your best Dom Perignon,” Amar said.

  Suddenly glancing at Rylee, Camryn’s eyes widened. Clearly, Rylee didn’t know how much a bottle like that cost, but it must be outrageous given Camryn’s reaction.

  “That’s not really necessary,” Rylee began.

  “Of course it is,” Amar said silkily. “We’re celebrating getting better acquainted. And I’ve been remiss in introductions. You must be Rylee’s beautiful friend, Camryn.”

  Camryn smiled. “Yes, I am.” Then she paused. “But how do you know my name?”

  “I make it my business to know everything about those close to me.”

  Rylee was most certainly not close to him and didn’t appreciate him looking into her or her friends for that matter, but she also refused to let him think he had the upper hand. “I imagine it must be quiet difficult in your position, being the son of a sheikh.” Rylee glanced around. “I’m surprised there aren’t guards around you twenty-four-seven.”

  Amar smiled wryly. “Well, when you’re the bastard son, not much interest is given to your comings and goings.”

  Rylee’s throat hitched. Clearly she’d hit a nerve. “I-I’m sorry. I—”

  Amar interrupted her and put up his hand.

  “Rylee,” he called her by her first name, and it was like a sensuous caress on his full lips. “It’s fine. I accepted my position in my family decades ago. My brother Khalid is in line to the throne, and if anyone was at risk, it would be him, not me.”

  “Sounds like a tenuous position to be in,” Rylee commented.

  “Khalid has been training for this his entire life. He will do well.”

  “You sound like you have no animosity,” Rylee said.

  “I do not.” Amar was glad that the waiter arrived with the bubbly so that they could move on to bigger things. “Ah, our champagne is here.” He waited for the waiter to pour glasses for everyone before raising his glass in toast. “To new acquaintances.”

  Rylee raised her glass, and Amar clicked his flute against hers. “To new acquaintances.”

  Amar sipped once and put down his glass. “So, how long are you ladies staying in Louisville?”

  “I’m sure you already know the answer to that question,” Rylee replied.

  “Humor me.”

  “A few days,” Camryn spoke for Rylee. “Rylee’s a vet, and she’s helping our friend Jeremy with his horse.”

  “Ah, yes, Dreamer,” Amar added. “A long shot at best, yes, Sharif? Our horse, Desert Storm, is a sure thing.”

  “True,” Sharif finally spoke after he’d been watching the back and forth tennis match of words between Amar and his new lady love.

  “You shouldn’t underestimate the underdog,” Rylee said. “You never know when they might come and nip at your heels.” Not thinking, she reached across to playfully run her fingers up Amar’s arm, but before she could pull back, he’d grabbed her hand and their eyes connected. Amar’s were dark and intense. And passionate.

  An undeniable current sparked between them until Rylee snatched her hand away. She laughed, attempting to lighten the mood. “Looks like someone doesn’t like to lose.”

  “Losing isn’t in Amar’s vocabulary,” Sharif replied.

  “I’d heard that.” For good measure, Rylee added, “That you’re ruthless.” She wished Amar would stop looking at her like she was dessert. It unnerved her to be looked at with such raw, unabashed passion.

  “In business you have to be to get ahead,” he said, his voice husky with desire. He reached for his champagne flute and took another sip before continuing. “Starting out an Internet company like mine and competing against the likes of Facebook wasn’t an easy task and was not for the faint of heart.”

  “You must have had a lot of opposition,” Camryn added.

  Amar nodded. “From my peers as well as my family. They thought I would amount to a rich playboy content to live on his father’s riches by carousing women and driving fancy cars.”

  “But you wanted more than that,” Rylee said. She liked how Amar was driven to find his own path, unlike Jeremy, who did what his family expected of him.

  “I didn’t want to ride on my father’s coattails. Still don’t.”

  Rylee’s eyes narrowed. “So what brings you here to the Kentucky Derby, when, forgive me for saying this, it’s all about the playboy lifestyle. I mean, isn’t this event about rich men and their toys?” She coughed. “Er, I mean horses. This is a far cry from where Cam
ryn” — she glanced at her best friend — “and I live. We have a simple life without all” — she motioned her hands around the room — “all this extravagance.”

  Amar watched her carefully. “You’re interesting, Rylee. You snub the rich for their excesses, yet here you are this weekend appreciating all they have to offer.”

  Fury boiled in Rylee, and she saw red. “Are you calling me a hypocrite?” She couldn’t believe his nerve. Her family and friends may not be poor, but they worked hard for the life they enjoyed.

  “I’m merely pointing out the fact that you are enjoying all the excess.”

  Rylee glanced at her watch. “Oh, my, look at the time.” She rose to her feet, pushing back her chair. “I believe it’s time for our dinner date. Camryn?” She turned to her friend.

  And as if on cue, Rylee saw Jeremy, outfitted in a black suit with a white shirt opened right above his chest, looking around the room for them at the door of the hotel bar.

  When he spotted them at the table with Amar, he looked less than amused. Rylee had to admit Jeremy looked very dapper in his designer suit, and she wished she felt more for him than brotherly affection.

  Rylee gave Jeremy a broader smile than normal when he arrived at the table she and Camryn had shared with Amar. “Jeremy, ready for dinner?”

  “Yes. I was just looking for you ladies. I thought I had the time wrong.”

  “You didn’t.” Rylee glanced at Amar. “We’re done here.”

  Jeremy glared at Amar before offering Rylee his arm and extending his other to Camryn. They walked away leaving Amar and Sharif staring after them.

  “She’s something, isn’t she?” Amar turned to Sharif.

  “I’ll say,” Sharif replied. “She doesn’t hold her tongue like the women of Nasir.”

  Amar sat down and took a sip of his champagne. He liked how Rylee had stood up to him, returning his serves with a strong hand. He wasn’t used to that in a woman. “I wouldn’t want a yes-woman,” he mused aloud. “What would be the fun in someone who did everything I asked?”

  “Less drama.” Sharif chuckled.