Sheikh's Fake Fiancee (12 page)

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Bahan said.

“But,” his father continued, wheeling his chair back a bit, “you’re different. Fareed is happy with his figures and his building plans, but I know you have a heart that feels deeply. I wanted to see you with a wife because I wanted you to truly enjoy what I’ve had with your mother for decades.”

“Jennifer was a means to an end. Nothing more,” he said, trying to be stern as he said it, as if it were no more interesting a fact than saying the sun set in the west. The words felt hollow on his tongue. From his father’s smirk, he was able to tell he had convinced no one at all. “What?”

“I think that if she meant nothing, you’d have just referred to her as ‘Ms. Wilde’ or been disinterested. I know your heart, son, and I know that she’s captivated it.”

He began to pace, no longer easy under his father’s scrutiny. “Maybe so but she does not want me.”

The older man shook his head. “Then, my son, you merely have to convince her. You’re a good planner, just figure out how to win her back.”

“But…”

“I know you can.”

With that, his father wheeled back out of the office, leaving Bahan dumbfounded.

Chapter Twelve

She had Rose call Bahan’s secretary the next day, but her husband’s assistant was sorry to report he’d flown to New York on urgent business concerning his property by Central Park and would be unavailable until he was out of meetings the next day. When she’d heard that, Jennifer’s heart fell. Part of her felt that it could be a very logical explanation, but at the same time, she was terrified that Bahan had enough. After all, in under a month, her sister would have her transplant and then Bahan had no reason to check in with her family at all until two years passed and he could serve her divorce papers formally without fear of losing his kingdom.

I couldn’t have pushed him away, could I have?

That gnawing fear was something she tried to push out of her head as she left her job and started for the street corner to hail a cab. Sydney was still in the hospital and she’d promised her sister that she’d bring the cheesy hats and glasses and confetti for tonight’s New Year’s celebration. She’d been let off at two and needed to get over to the hospital before the streets were impossibly jammed with traffic, if they weren’t already. The last thing she expected was for a limo to be parked out front and the driver, a swarthy man with a dark beard, to be holding a sign with her last name on it.

“I…do I know you?”

“My name is Dawan, my sheikha. I’ve been sent by Bahan. He’d like your opinion on something in his emporium property off Fifth. That’s all I know, and please don’t take this as being too forward, but I would like it if we could hurry. I hate to disappoint my ruler.”

She frowned, completely unsure of where any of this was leading, but she didn’t want poor Dawan to be penalized for her own confusion. Nodding briskly at him, she slipped into the back and waited patiently as they navigated the crowded streets to the shopping complex her husband had been developing all this time. When they pulled up, she pushed the call button between her seat and the front.

“What do I do now?”

“He said to enter and turn left into the store.”

“Which store?”

“You’ll know which one he said, my sheikha. Good luck!”

Furrowing her brows but truly intrigued, she hurried out of the limo and entered the complex. There were a variety of stores in the mall (though that seemed too crass a word for the shopping complex). Just on the first floor to her right were Gucci, Coach, and Prada. To her left was a massive, half-stocked Tiffany storefront. Standing in the middle of its display window and smiling broadly was Bahan, with a large Tiffany box in his hand.

She rushed through the door to hug him, infinitely thankful that he swept her up into his embrace. “I…I thought you were mad at me. I assumed your secretary was trying to blow me off. To be honest, I wouldn’t blame you, not in the least.”

He pulled away from her, his amber eyes still seeming to burn with his need for her. “My wild one, I could never hate you. I can be frustrated as hell, don’t get me wrong on that account, but I can’t hate you.”

“I never should have pushed you away.”

“Can I ask what changed your mind? Was it only because Sydney is better?”

She was about to ask him how he knew, but of course, Bahan still kept up with all her sister’s updates. Dr. Singal must have told him. “No, it’s not just because things are better. I promise I’m going to try and be a real wife.”

“Then what changed?” he asked, pulling away fully and playing with the box in his hand. “I was hopeful you’d come but wasn’t sure you would.”

“Dawan played me, didn’t he? There’s no way he was actually going to be punished, was he?”

“No, never, but it did get you here,” he countered, flashing white teeth at her.

“I’d have come anyway. I wanted to see you. I
needed
you.”

“And I’m grateful to have you back, but even I need to know why. Call it satisfying my curiosity.”

She nodded and pushed long strands of hair out of her face and eyes. As intense as his gaze was, she wanted to meet it, wanted to give him all of her. “I was engaged once before.”

“I see.”

“And he cheated on me with some cheap cocktail waitress. I try never even to think about Dustin, but you’re the first guy I’ve been close to since then. I keep thinking that every guy is just like him or my dad. I was so scared that you were going to do the same. So, yes, I was trying to avoid being hurt because I’ve been burned so many times.”

“Now?”

“Mom told me I had to make a choice, that I couldn’t just be scared my whole life. I don’t want to be, and damn it, I missed you so much, my sheikh,” she said, her tone wry.

He stepped forward again and shifted his box to one hand as best as he could. Reaching out, he stroked her cheek. “I missed you too, my
wife
,” he said.

“Then what do you have for me?” she asked, the playfulness returning to her tone as she realized he really was going to take her back.

Bahan smiled, a mysterious grin that reminded her of the Mona Lisa they’d seen together. “Please take a look. I had this location make it special for me.”

Frowning and now doubly curious, she picked up the box and tore into it. Then she looked back to him as she pulled out a small charm made in the shape of a padlock yet coated with thick Tiffany diamonds.

“What is it?”

“May I?” he asked, gesturing to her neck.

She nodded and lifted up her blond waves so that he could put the necklace on her. Jennifer shuddered a bit as she felt his hands so near her, as she smelled that turmeric teasing her nose. God, she’d even missed the spiciness of him.

“So, what is it?” she asked, letting her hair down and leaning back into his embrace.

“It means,” he said, “that I still remember that day on the bridge in Paris. I want us to always be together, to be truly married. You already have my great-grandmother’s ring on your finger.”

She gasped and held up her left hand. “I had no idea it was an heirloom. You didn’t have to do that at first.”

He kissed her cheek. “I wanted to, but now you have a memento from me,” he said, letting her go and crossing around to her front. Then Bahan made her tear up as he got to his knees. “Will you stay married to me, my wild one? Will you be by my side a year from now, or a dozen?”

“For forever?” she asked, her voice cracking.

“Yes, forever,” he said, standing back up to face her fully.

Jennifer nodded and then gladly accepted his kiss, loving the feel of his tongue tangling with hers and reveling in the fact that this was just the beginning of such love, such tenderness.

“So we have forever?” he asked again, as if even he hadn’t believed her.

She could understand that. She had so much to make up for. Reaching up, she stroked his goatee and then kissed him long and hard. He was hers and she was his, and that was as it always would be, until the end of their lives and beyond.

The End!

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Sheikh's Revenge

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Sheikh’s Revenge

By:  Jessica Brooke and Ella Brooke

All Rights Reserved.
 Copyright 2015-2016 Jessica Brooke

Chapter One

“Zahir,” Clayton McDermott said, shaking the man’s hand. “I’m so glad you were able to make it all the way out here for the merger meeting. Frankly, I assumed that for something this by the book, you’d be sending Fairuza instead.”

Sheikh Zahir Amun smiled tightly back at the manufacturing mogul. Yes, it was unlike him to travel for these things. He felt that Amun Petrol did best when he was in Dubai and overseeing everything with eagle eyes. Maybe he’d never heard of the art of delegation, at least not completely. While he trusted his sister with his life, Zahir was well aware of how oily and difficult Clayton could be to deal with. He was a man who was eternally wriggling out of deals and was as likely to pat you on the back as shiv you in it. Yet the Boston businessman had access to some of the best steel refineries in the States, and Amun desperately needed those resources to help update his oil pipes. Dealing with the devil was the best thing they could hope for, but Zahir still didn’t trust him.

“We’re opening a new well outside of Al Ain, and there’s no one I trust more to put the fear of Allah in the workers than my sister. No one in our family appreciates being trifled with,” he said, and he let his grin ease closer to a snarl. Zahir wanted Clayton to understand that double-dealing was a poor choice when the Amun family’s reputation was on the line.

“What a shame. She’s a lovely woman,” the other man said, breaking the handshake apart and smoothing back his bright blond hair. Clayton’s hair was overly processed and shiny, just like everything else about him, and Zahir was vaguely reminded of the American newscasters and their coiffed looks. Again, so much artifice when dealing with the other man.

“Indeed.”

Clayton nodded and sat back down on his side of the conference table. “No offense, my friend, but I’d rather she had come. There’s quite the party in Boston tonight. It’s something my old fraternity brothers are hosting, a masquerade ball, and I wanted to invite her to come with me after the signing as my honored guest.”

Zahir’s jaw clenched before he worked it free. “I’m sure that Fairuza will be much aggrieved to hear she missed something like that. Do tell me where it is, though. Perhaps I’d find it an amusing way to pass the time after all these negotiations.”

“Of course. It’s at Club Rouge downtown. The owner’s an old friend. You’ll love it. It’s one of the biggest bashes in Bean Town.”

“I’m sure,” Zahir replied. He was glad that his sister hadn’t come.

Fairuza was no fool, and Clayton’s reputation as a womanizer was well known. She’d have been bored to tears humoring him and whatever pathetic come-ons he managed at the party. If she stopped being bored, she might very well have kneed him in the groin and endangered all future business dealings. Zahir, however, preferred to make his trips a mix of business and pleasure. There were so many advantages to being a young, wealthy royal, and no matter how often or vigorously his sister teased him for it, Zahir intended to enjoy all of them.

“Now that we’ve gotten through all the pleasantries…” Clayton fumbled. The other corporate titan may be self-absorbed, but even he seemed to understand when a meeting was floundering. Of course, implying he’d wanted to take Zahir’s sister out didn’t help. Perhaps there was still too much frat boy left in Clayton for him to have much common sense left. “I think you’ll find the contract is well and in order. I spoke additionally with my own advisors and lawyers, of course, pursuant to our last conversation.”

“Oh I’ll bet,” Zahir said, taking the thick sheaf of papers and frowning as he thumbed through them.

Technically this tête-à-tête was a preamble to the official meeting with their lawyers and secretaries present. It was a show of good faith so that neither of them would feel ambushed when their legal teams were present. However, as Zahir read through them, he realized that some of the stipulations he’d wanted had been dropped, and Clayton had certainly rethought his own points. Angered, Zahir shoved the papers back across the desk. It was a struggle to remind himself to keep his voice down.

“Are you serious? Do you really expect to try sneaking in completely new terms?”

“I wasn’t sneaking. I let you reread them and your attorney would have in a few minutes. I just was thinking that this whole merger is about what
you
need. You want access to the pipes and other steel that my company can provide you. What exactly am I getting out of this?”