Bought For One Night: The Sheikh's Offer (3 page)

It was less than an hour after I hung up with Katherine when my phone started vibrating against the glass coffee table. She had called the Sheikh and spoken with him directly about accepting the offer. She said he was delighted that I’d accepted, and would be sending a car the following morning to pick me up.

“So soon?” I asked Katherine, surprised.

“Apparently,” replied Katherine. “This guy has money to burn, I’m sure rushing this kind of thing is no big deal to him. Can you be ready in time?”

“Of course, look who you’re talking to; I’ve gotten ready for the Oscars in less than three hours.”

“Well get on it, girl. He’s coming for you. You let me know if you need
anything
, okay? If something goes wrong, or if you want to come back, just call me.”

“Katherine, I’m not a child,” I groaned. “I’ll be fine. He’s not going to kidnap me.”

“I just worry about you, sugar plum; you know you’re my favorite.”

“Yeah, I bet you say that to all the girls,” I joked. “Thanks, I’ll call you when I’m on my way.”

I hung up with my agent and stared out at the LA lights glimmering under the fog in the distance. I wondered how the lights of Al-Dali would compare.

FIVE

After snatching a couple of hours of fitful sleep, I woke before my alarm and looked to my walk-in wardrobe. Since the job was a straight twenty-four hours, I figured I had better pack for several eventualities. I pulled out a mid-sized suitcase and rolled up my pajamas, several outfits, a jacket, and an array of shoes and accessories. In a garment bag, I tucked two evening dresses—one more modest than the other, as I had no idea what to expect when it came to customs in Al-Dali. Finally, I packed up my makeup and hair supplies, along with a novel I had been trying to finish for three months. One of the crew from my last film had recommended it, but my concentration had been lacking lately with all the stress. Maybe I’d get time to finish it on the trip.

Since I knew Al-Dali was a desert country, I opted for an outfit of light, flowing red cloth draped over a romper of the same color, with broad straps and shorts that extended down to my knees. The sheer drapery added modesty without adding weight or heat; paired with nude heels, the outfit would be perfect for summer. I leaned into the old-school Hollywood look by painting my lips red and digging out one of my wide-brim wicker hats to protect me from the sun.

Zipping up my suitcases, I was surprised by the buzzer to my front gates ringing. I hurried through the house, my bare feet cold on the hardwood floors, to answer the call. The video display on the security system showed a limo driver waiting patiently in his idling vehicle.

Man, that was fast,
I thought as I pressed the speaker button and let him into the grounds, promising I was nearly finished packing. He politely told me to take my time.

After throwing my luggage by the door and pulling on my shoes, I made a quick round to check doors and windows, water my plants, and ensure I hadn't left anything undone. It was only a twenty-four-hour trip, but when the trip was taking me halfway around the world, anything could go wrong and keep me away for longer. More than once, I had come home from a production that ran too long to a house full of dead plants, their poor brown leaves littering the floor. It wasn't the best welcome home.

The limo driver moved to take my bags as soon as he saw the front door opening. He greeted me with a bow and introduced himself as Terry, handing me a card. I recognized the company he worked for, a local rental service that the Sheikh must have called to hire. He was professional and polite, but had that glow in his eyes that betrayed he was a fan that wanted desperately to gush about it all over me. Hollywood protocol tended to frown on that kind of behavior when it came from staff that had access to celebrity homes and lives, but there was no hiding the emotions.

About halfway through the drive to the airport, Terry’s professional composure finally broke. “I loved you in
Undertow
,” he said without turning his head to face the back.

I smiled and nodded, fiddling with my sunhat in my lap. “I liked that one, too. Thank you, Terry.”

“I haven't seen you in much lately.”

Thanks for the reminder
, I thought to myself. “I've been taking a little hiatus,” I replied confidently. “Needed a vacation from the rat race.”

“I can understand that,” replied Terry as he took a right off the freeway. The airport was in the opposite direction.

“Where are we going?” I asked curiously, looking out the window.

“Reynolds Airfield,” Terry said matter-of-factly.

I frowned, only vaguely aware of its existence. “Oh? Not LAX?”

“My instructions were to take you to Reynolds,” shrugged Terry. “It's my understanding a private jet will be waiting for you. This is a bit of an exclusive airfield.”

I had friends with private jets, but none of them had ever used this airfield. I was suddenly more intrigued, and sat back to enjoy the unfamiliar drive until we arrived at the tiny airfield with a hangar only ten planes deep.

We idled for a moment at the gates as we were identified by an intimidating man at an equally-intimidating security booth. He told Terry my transport was ready and waiting, and directed him to our destination. An imposing steel arm lifted, opening the driveway to us, and Terry guided the limo inside and across the open concrete.

We stopped in front of a gorgeous red-and-white jet glistening on the tarmac, stairway lowered. Two staff members were waiting with bright smiles at its base, wind whipping at their hair. Terry immediately hopped out of the car to open my door for me. I slipped on my sunglasses and hat and watched him head for the trunk for my bags.

“Miss Wood?” came a voice. One of the flight attendants, a beautiful young woman with dark hair and olive skin, approached with an outstretched hand. “My name is Nareem. I'll be taking care of you today, along with my associate, Raj.” She gestured to the other attendant, who bowed and smiled. “Was your drive pleasant?”

“It was fine, thank you.” I nodded, shaking her hand. “Nice to meet you both.”

“Wonderful. Please, follow me, and we’ll get you comfortable before take-off.”

Nareem led me up the stairs and into the plushest private jet I had ever been on, and that was saying a lot. I had traveled with movie executives, A-list celebs and even a few tech moguls who liked to feel cool and connected. The Sheikh's plane blew them all away. Every detail was personalized, and the interior was decorated with what I could only assume was the art style of his country, with sweeping calligraphy and patterns interspersed with imagery of people and animals and plants. The upholstery was beautiful white leather. There were four chairs arranged around a polished table for business purposes, several recliner-style chairs near the windows, and even a lounge area against one side of the main cabin with a couch and coffee table.

Nareem led me to the rear of the plane and showed me a cozy cabin complete with a queen-sized bed with plush white bedding that matched the upholstery. A tiny chandelier dangled above the bed, its crystals quivering with the rumbling of the engine.

“Per the instructions of His Highness, you are free to use the cabin as you wish,” said Nareem with a smile. “Make yourself at home. Your luggage will be stored in the main cabin should you need it. We have a menu for you to select your drinks and meals. You need only let me know when and what you would like to eat, and it would be my pleasure to serve you.”

I might have been a movie star for years but even I was struggling not to be blown away by this level of treatment. I had never had the option of comfortably sleeping my way on a flight around the world with gourmet meals at my beck and call.

“Thank you, Nareem... This is all so generous.”

“The Sheikh is a generous man,” she said, her eyes glowing.

Curious, I prodded further. “Do you work for him year-round, or did he hire you solely for this job?”

She nodded gently. “We are the Shekih's full-time flight staff for this jet. He insisted we show you the same treatment as we would him. He wants you to be as comfortable as possible.”

I wanted to be happy and flattered by the news, but I cut my teeth in Hollywood, and I knew that this kind of hospitality rarely came without a quid-pro-quo.

Conscious that that wasn't Nareem's burden to bear, I flashed my best smile. “I don't think he has to worry about that. I might just sell my place and move in here instead, it's so comfortable.”

Nareem laughed, her cheeks flushing a pretty red as she did. “Make yourself comfortable, Miss Wood. I'm going to check that preparations for takeoff are moving smoothly. We should be departing in a matter of minutes.”

SIX

Once Nareem had disappeared into the front section of the plane, I threw myself dramatically onto the plush bed and sank into the clean linens with a sigh. The quiet hum of the engines was comforting as I lay there with my eyes closed, breathing deeply. This deal might have been an odd, sketchy idea, but so far, I was enjoying the perks. Katherine hadn’t been kidding when she called this guy loaded. Who else would bother with the decadence of a chandelier in his plane cabin?

I missed this. The A-list treatment was addictive, and being here made me realize how little of it I had received in the last few months. I had movie star treatment when I went out, sure, but there was richness in the way the A-list lived that was easy to lose. Being on the Sheikh's plane made me realize just how much I had already lost, and how much was slipping away every day. Maybe I was shallow for wanting it, but who wasn’t? And I was talented enough to earn it, even if my industry wished I was younger.

Thoughts of the Sheikh's quid-pro-quo rang in the back of my mind. I would be his companion for twenty-four hours, and he was already treating me to luxuries of great expense. There was certainly value in being seen with someone of my level of fame, but this man was already rich and famous; I doubted he was lacking in esteem from his peers or countrymen. He probably just wanted me around for personal reasons. Sometimes people in power were lacking in human contact because everyone around them just wanted to suck them dry, enjoying the perks and pretending to be friends or lovers in order to stay close. Power and money were isolating.

Maybe he wanted the chance to seduce a movie star, sweep her off her feet, and make it impossible for her to reject him. It was how some of the very wealthy operated. Society pretended to hate gold-diggers, but blindly ignored how a man's drive for riches and success was often just so he could impress women. No matter how unattractive or boring a personality, money would get him a wife. It was just how things operated.

There was every possibility that the Sheikh was no different. He was giving me a taste of what he could offer his romantic partners, probably because that’s what he wanted me to be.

But I reminded myself of my personal promise: I wouldn't be blinded by all this glitter. I would set my boundaries and I wouldn't deviate from them. Sheikh or not, my body was not for sale.

I kicked my heels off and lay there until I heard footsteps approaching on the soft carpet.

Nareem's voice sounded from the doorway. “Miss Wood, we are fully prepared for takeoff. You will need to strap in safely for this portion of the flight.”

“Of course,” I answered cheerfully.

Before I could put them back on, Nareem tucked my shoes into a one of the drawers lining the bottom of the bed, and winked at me. “No need for those if you don't want. It's twelve hours of flight time, plus a short layover to refuel in Germany. Make yourself comfortable.”

I smiled. “I like the way you think.”

I took a seat in one of the recliners. It felt like a marshmallow under my body—supportive and yet impossibly plush, and somehow smelling of jasmine. I strapped on my seatbelt and watched as Nareem and Raj did the same on the other side of the cabin. Together we watched out the windows as the plane began to taxi on the small airstrip before making a smooth takeoff into the bright blue California sky.

Between Nareem and Raj, I didn't want for a single thing during the flight. They served me mimosas, decadent chocolate cake, and silver trays of fresh fruit. After eating much more than I normally would, just for the sake of the mini-vacation, I retired to the plush bedroom cabin. I was going to ask for access to my luggage, but a set of blue silk pajamas had been provided, and I happily slid into them. I curled up under the down comforter, watching the fluffy clouds pass by the windows as I drifted off into a deep sleep.

Nareem woke me up gently about two hours before landing, apologetically telling me that she wanted to ensure I had time to prepare myself for the Sheikh. I took my sweet time rolling around in the bed, watching the sky, which had turned as bright as a jewel. I walked to one of the windows to get a view of Al-Dali, the home of the Sheikh, a place I had never even dreamed of going. The view was spectacular, with the hazy yellows and oranges of desert sands interspersed with glittering cities and lush, irrigated farmland that defied nature herself. A great blue river churned, cutting its way south, lined on both sides with ancient greenery. I had never seen anything like this view, and wondered just what it was like to rule a place with such beauty and history.

It took me only a moment to change back into my summery red outfit, and Nareem was kind enough to bring me my personal bag so I could touch up my makeup and reset a few of the blond curls that had gone flat during my nap. I rejoined the crew in the main cabin after I was finished, and Raj immediately brought me a cold glass of exotic juice with a glowing smile.

The capital city of Al-Dali approached outside the windows, growing closer, its skyscrapers tall and magnificent, gleaming in the desert sun. I knew Al-Dali was one of the richest nations in the world, but I didn’t expect the elegance—and extravagance—of its presentation. Scattered throughout the modern steel were temples and ruins, a testament to the millennia-old history of this region of the world. The Sheikh was only the most recent in a long line of titans; his ancestors had conquered half the world and invented things like algebra and medicine. His city perfectly showcased this ancestral pride alongside the achievements of its modern sons.

The scratching sound of the pilot’s intercom broke through my thoughts.

“We’re beginning our descent to the airfield,” he said. “Will passengers please make sure you are buckled in. We’ll be touching down in ten minutes.”

Suddenly, my nerves skyrocketed as I realized I was minutes away from meeting Sheikh bin Alaman for the first time, still without any idea as to what this job entailed. Was I going to ride in some parade with him, a famous American girl to be a spectacle like some enormous cartoon-character balloon? Would he have some urgent plea for me to help his country? Or was this just a simple case of a lonely, isolated leader with endless resources who decided to live out a fantasy and go on a date with a movie star?

Whatever it was, I didn’t have long to prepare for it.