The Sheik's Kidnapped Bride

by Mallery, Susan

  Once again, her husband had been victorious.

  Chapter 12

  Dora paused outside the entrance to the office wing of the palace and smoothed her sweaty hands on her skirt. She’d thrown down the gauntlet, and Khalil had responded. She now had an office of her own, a title and even an assistant. The question was—did she know how to do the job?

  She resisted the urge to run back to her lonely quarters and send Khalil a message telling him she’d just been kidding. Because it was a joke. Did she really think she had the training and experience required to act as liaison between the El Baharian government and Fortune 500 companies wanting to set up offices or manufacturing facilities? El Bahar was a peaceful country with a reputation of being the Switzerland of the Middle East so corporations interested in expansion in this part of the world frequently began in El Bahar. She was meddling in a multibillion-dollar arena, and she had absolutely no idea what she’d been thinking.

  Except that she’d spent most of her time alone reading business magazines and books, and the common theme she’d come across was the difficulty companies had when expanding internationally. She’d had some experience with that while working for Gerald. He’d been a jerk and more than willing to let her shoulder his responsibilities whenever possible. Was that enough training? She drew in a deep breath and opened the door leading to the suites of offices. She supposed she was about to find out.

  The frosted-glass double doors led into a large, plush waiting area decorated with leather sofas and fabulous Impressionist paintings. It took her a second to realize that they were all originals. She found herself wanting to pause in front of the huge canvases, then remembered she was here to work, not admire, and approached the trim middle-aged man sitting behind an oversize desk. He looked up and smiled.

  “Good morning, Your Highness. I’m Martin Wingbird. Prince Khalil told me you would be arriving this morning. May I have the honor of showing you to your office?”

  The man was perfectly dressed in a tailored suit, and his accent was British. From what Dora had been able to figure out, much of the staff was international. While she was still living in the harem, Fatima had entertained her with stories about wild arguments between the two head chefs, one of whom was French, the other American and a woman. Apparently while they avoided blows, they weren’t above throwing the crockery at each other.

  “Thank you, Mr. Wingbird.”

  Behind the main reception desk, two corridors jutted out, one going left, the other right. Martin took the left corridor, walking briskly down a long, carpeted hallway. Dora hurried after him as best she could. She’d dressed in a long, straight skirt that came nearly to her ankles. While it was conservative enough to meet any exacting standards, it also prevented her from taking long strides.

  They passed several large offices, complete with computers, faxes and copy machines. The desert might be only a half dozen or so miles away, but here in the palace, the staff had long moved into the modern age.

  As they approached the end of the corridor, Dora saw two massive doors standing open. Three assistants, two men and a woman, worked in front of two more doors.

  “Prince Khalil’s staff is here,” Martin Wingbird said. “And that door on the left leads to your office.”

  He introduced the assistants, and she found that the lone female, a beautiful Asian woman named Eva, worked for her.

  Dora had to smile. “I’m curious about the staffing arrangements,” she told Martin. “Do I have a woman working for me because no man would dare work for a woman in this country, or is it a matter of propriety? And if it’s the latter, what is to prevent the staff from crossing the line?”

  Martin’s serious expression didn’t change, but she saw a flicker of humor in his blue eyes. “I’m sure I don’t know, ma’am.”

  “How clever of you. In your position, I wouldn’t know, either.” She nodded. “Thank you for you help, Martin.”

  “My pleasure, Your Highness.” He bowed once and left.

  Eva had already opened the door to Dora’s office, and now the assistant led the way inside. Dora followed her into a plush space filled with French country-style furniture, paintings of flowers and a large spray of roses in a vase on the coffee table in front of a small sitting area. Windows gave her a view of a formal English garden.

  She looked around at the bright colors in the Oriental rug and the little touches of lace on the throw pillows tossed casually on the sofa. “The room is so perfect, I want to believe it has been decorated just for me,” Dora said more to herself than to Eva. But that wasn’t possible. She and Khalil had spoken about her working for him less than forty-eight hours ago. The office couldn’t have been put together that quickly, could it?

  “Prince Khalil arranged everything himself,” Eva said. “He spent all of yesterday overseeing everything.” She smiled. “Your husband was most particular about the furniture he chose and had many items sent back into storage before he approved this.”

  Khalil? Her husband? The man who demanded his way in everything, most especially her submission to him? She couldn’t imagine him caring about decor, let alone picking out furniture and throw pillows.

  Eva walked over to the desk and touched a few keys on the computer. “I’ve begun to work on your calendar,” she said. “You have two meetings scheduled for this afternoon. They’re to introduce you to the local presidents of two of our largest foreign banks.”

  The woman kept speaking, but Dora could no longer hear the words. She’d gone into panic mode, wondering what on earth she’d thought when she’d told Khalil she’d wanted this particular job. She was going to fall on her butt and it was going to be very public and very—

  “Your Highness?” Eva asked. “Is everything all right?”

  The young woman was exceptionally pretty, with beautiful, thick hair cut in a fashionable wedge and a long jacket and skirt outlining a slender body.

  “I’m fine,” Dora assured her. “Would you please upload files on those two presidents and their banks. I’m interested in their last yearly report, figures we have for the most recent two quarters, as well as copies of articles from local papers. I want to see what kind of press they’ve been getting in El Bahar. Oh, and general information on banking in general. The number of local versus foreign banks, the percent of citizens using local banks rather than foreign banks, any estimations on offshore accounts here.”

  Eva scribbled notes as Dora talked. “Anything else, Your Highness?”

  Dora sighed. “I know it’s important to address me respectfully, Eva, but we’re going to have to come up with something shorter than ‘Your Highness.”’

  Eva smiled. “I’ll get right on all of this, ma’am.”

  “You do that. Let me know when you start uploading files to my computer.”

  Eva nodded and started to leave, but before she could pull the door shut behind her, Khalil appeared and pushed his way inside.

  Her office was a big room, but Khalil stood well over six feet, and with him filling the space, the walls seemed to shrink together. Dora looked at her husband, half enjoying, half hating the swell of gladness that rushed through her. Despite the fact that he made her crazy, he was a very handsome man and easy to look at.

  Today he wore a tailored suit that emphasized the powerful lines of his body…a body that she’d touched and tasted the previous evening until they were both breathless with desire. She’d kept true to her word and resisted him whenever he tried to make love with her. He’d also told the truth when he’d promised to seduce her night after night. They were playing a silly game, and she wasn’t sure when it was going to end, or how they were going to determine a winner. She only knew that she was ridiculously happy to see him and that she was going to do her best to keep him from knowing.

  “Do you like it?” he asked, prowling around the room. “My office is right next door. I know you would have preferred something on your own, but there are proprieties. The king wasn’t sure about the wife of a p
rince going to work, even as a liaison.”

  Dora hadn’t thought of that. “I’m sorry, Khalil. Did I make trouble between you and your father?”

  He shrugged. “He came around.”

  He paused in front of her desk and ran his fingers across the smooth surface. The deeply colored wood had been polished until it gleamed and reflected the brass lamp sitting by the desk blotter.

  He walked to the armoire by the door and pulled it open. “The printer is in here, along with your own fax machine. It will be quieter in the cabinet. There’s a small button on your desk that will tell you when you have a fax coming in.”

  He moved back to the desk and touched the phone. “My number is preprogrammed. Just push star-one and you’ll be connected right to my office. Malik is star-two and Jamal is star-three.”

  “Why would I need to call your brothers?”

  Khalil straightened and looked at her. “You’ll be taking over projects from all of us. While I’m responsible for all resource development, except for oil, as well as assisting emerging industries, Jamal handles the country’s finances while Malik looks after our oil interests and, as the crown prince and heir, represents El Bahar abroad. All of us have dealings with foreign businesses. Your responsibilities will put you in contact with all three of us on a regular basis.”

  Dora swallowed and tried not to let her nervousness show. Once again she realized she’d been arrogant and presumptuous in her request for this job. She hadn’t thought through the scope of what she would be doing.

  “I’ve asked Eva to schedule introductory meetings over the next few days,” he said. “They should get you up to speed. As you’re my wife, you’ll be reporting directly to me.”

  “Yes, of course,” she said, still stunned by her blunder. Could she really do this?

  “You’re not afraid, are you?”

  She looked up and squared her shoulders. “Of course not. I’m more than capable.”

  Khalil’s gaze was steady, as if he knew she was terrified. But he was obviously willing to let her bluff her way through. She decided that however much work it took, she would master this job and make both of them proud of her.

  She crossed to her desk and took a seat. “So, do I get paid?”

  She’d meant the comment as a joke, but Khalil didn’t smile. “Why would you need the money?”

  To be honest, she hadn’t much thought about it. “I suppose I don’t.”

  He braced his hands on the desk and leaned forward, crowding her and making her want to roll her chair away. “Make no mistake about your place in all of this. You are my wife, and you will stay my wife.”

  His direct gaze burned down to her very confused heart. Until that moment, Dora had assumed that Khalil was going to find a way to divorce her. She still didn’t understand all the circumstances of their marriage. She knew what she’d believed and what Amber had said, but the truth remained a mystery. Did he really plan to keep her in his life?

  “I will not let you go,” he told her. “El Bahar does not permit a royal wife to divorce her husband without his consent, and I will never agree.”

  Oddly enough, his words comforted her. Despite their differences, or maybe because of them, she didn’t want to go. A part of her was still hoping for the dream of a fantasy prince to love her forever. Which only proved she hadn’t learned a damn thing, despite having her heart broken by two men in less than two months.

  “You were amazing last night,” he said, abruptly changing the subject. He continued to stare at her, and she saw the fire glowing in his eyes. Fire that instantly sparked an answering flame deep in her woman’s place.

  “Thank you,” she murmured. Last night she’d been bold. Once he’d broken through her initial reserve, she’d attacked him, touching him, taking him in her hands and then in her mouth. She still remembered his shocked cries of pleasure.

  The memory made her squirm against her seat. Her panties grew damp as her breasts swelled. “Khalil…”

  He smiled, the slow, satisfied smile of a male who had won. “I knew you would come around. You want me. Admit it.”

  Her passion fled as quickly as it had arrived. She straightened and stared at him with cold disinterest. “Just because I’m your wife doesn’t mean you have the right to sexually harass me, Khalil. While we’re in the office, I want to discuss business and nothing else.”

  He straightened and glared at her. “How do you do that? How can you want me one minute and then freeze me out the next? Why won’t you give in on this? You know I will win in the end.”

  “Will you?” She shrugged. “I happen to think I’m going to win. I can be very stubborn.”

  “I know. It’s not your most attractive feature.”

  “Would you like a list of your own faults?”

  His look of surprise nearly made her smile. “I have no faults.”

  She leaned back in her chair. “Honey, you have a list so long, I’d get a cramp in my hand if I tried to write it.”

  “Not true,” he said. “I remind you that I am your husband, and I will be treated with respect.”

  Well, it was an improvement to the “I’m Prince Khalil Khan, etc.” which he’d been throwing in her face since they first met. “Nine to five we work together. No chit-chat about sex. I mean it, Khalil.”

  “What? Do you think you can take that tone with me and get your way?”

  She thought for a moment, then smiled. “Absolutely.”

  He glared. “You are an impossible woman.”

  “Yes, but I’m your impossible woman. Now get back to work, and leave me alone.”

  “We’re dining together at twelve-thirty,” he said as he headed for the door. “And I’m leaving because I have things to do, not because you told me to.”

  “Of course. Just as long as you’re leaving.”

  He paused to look at her. “Do not think you have more power than you do, my desert wildcat. I will still be the one you submit to this night.”

  “I will never submit.”

  He shrugged. “You may play your game of resisting at the beginning, but we both know that you will soon be in my arms, begging me to touch you and take you to paradise.”

  Then he was gone. And Dora was left with the uncomfortable realization that he spoke the absolute truth.

  Fatima accepted the cup of tea Khalil’s assistant offered, then waited until the young man had left them alone in his office. Khalil stretched out his legs in front of him and waited. His grandmother had requested this meeting, and she would get to her point in her own time.

  She didn’t keep him in suspense long. “Your father has begun to speak of Dora in terms of grudging respect, which I assume means that she’s doing extremely well in her work.”

  Khalil couldn’t help giving his grandmother a satisfied grin. “Right now she’s meeting with a computer manufacturing company and instead of walking in dictating terms, as they’d expected, they’re conceding on every point she’s brought up.”

  “So you are pleased with her as well.”

  Pleased didn’t begin to describe his feelings. At first Dora had been cautious and hadn’t expressed many opinions. He’d made the mistake of assuming she was going to be timid and not much use…as had the men she’d met with. But by the end of the first week, she’d been asking for more than they wanted to give and standing up to them when they refused. A major European bank had received a thumbs-down from her. Khalil had backed up her decision, even though he’d thought she’d gone too far. Three days later that bank’s competitor had come in with a package that would fund El Bahar’s budding computer chip manufacturing industry. Two hotels were bidding for property east of the city and there was talk of a cooperative venture between two American universities and the leading El Baharian hospital for several research projects. All this in less than a month.

  “She is an asset to us all,” he said at last. “Despite her lack of formal training, she is a shrewd negotiator. I’ve watched her use American casualness
to lull her opponents into trusting her, then turn into a royal princess to intimidate at exactly the right moment.”

  “And the marriage progresses equally well?” Fatima asked, then took a sip of tea.

  Her well-groomed hair was swept away from her face. Several rings decorated her long, elegant fingers. She looked like a well-dressed matron making a social call, but Khalil knew better. Unlike Dora’s opponents, he’d learned not to underestimate the power of a female in the royal family.

  “Dora and I are very happy,” he said.

  Fatima didn’t respond. First she nibbled on a shortbread cookie, then patted her mouth with a small, linen napkin.

  Khalil wanted to stand up and start pacing, but he refused to let his grandmother intimidate him in his own office. He stayed silent. As did Fatima. The clock in the corner ticked off the seconds. Tension grew. He swore he wasn’t going to give in first.

  Finally he couldn’t stand it anymore. He bounced to his feet and stalked to the window. “She’s stubborn and irritating,” he growled, his back to the room. He stared out at a view of the gardens, but didn’t see any of the lush plants. Instead he saw Dora turning away from him, as she had the previous night. Telling him silently that she didn’t want him, forcing him to reduce her to mindless pleading, until her body spoke a truth her lips refused to utter.

  “At least she’s intelligent,” Fatima said calmly. “That’s something.”

  “Not when the intelligence is used against me.” He turned to face his grandmother. “Her two weeks in the harem taught her nothing of being a good wife.”

  “Oh, is that what we were supposed to be doing? How foolish of me. I arranged for her to learn El Baharian customs and history. Perhaps you should send her back to me. Then I can teach her all she needs to know about cleaning and cooking and mending. Would the young prince be more happy then?”

  He glared at Queen Fatima and was reminded that his grandfather had always respected his wife…and with good reason. “I have no need for another servant. I want a wife.”