Stolen by the Sheik (Black Towers Book 2)

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Stolen by the Sheik (Black Towers Book 2) Page 12

by Suzanne Rock


  “Back home, music needs to be approved before it can be played,” he murmured. “Everything that comes into the country must be sterilized and homogenized by the governing body—and that includes my father.” He leaned in closer to Liv and lowered his voice. “I played him some music from this band, and he told me that he’d consider allowing it and similar songs into the country.”

  “He did?”

  Nayo nodded. “I want to show you something else.” He steered her away from the group and they made their way along the waterfront, toward the port. Liv began to relax as the familiar lighthouse came into view. She had been spending a lot of time down here lately with her charity, meeting immigrants coming off the boats and helping them get settled.

  “I read about what you have been doing,” Nayo said.

  “You have?”

  He nodded. “There was an article about it in the paper.”

  “Yes.” There had been a short piece a few weeks back about a charity event Liv had helped organize. “We are short on funding. There are so many people who need our help.”

  “I think what you’re doing is great.”

  “You do?”

  “Of course.” He stopped walking and turned to face her. “In fact, I think that it’s so great, that I want to help.”

  She shook her head. “Help? But I thought you had responsibility—”

  “I did. I still do.” He let out a long breath and took her hands in his. “My father isa hard man, but he isn’t an ogre. When I told him what had happened and explained the situation, he agreed that a marriage to Deema would not be in our best interests.”

  “What about Deema? Is she going to get in trouble?”

  “No. My father and I were able to smooth things over with her family. Our alliance is intact, along with Deema’s reputation.”

  Liv let out a long breath. “That’s good. I was afraid that—”

  “Deema still has an uphill battle with her family. I expect that her parents will not be too pleased to learn that their only daughter is a lesbian. That, however, is not my affair. I have my own life back now, and I have worked out a deal with my father that I think will benefit everyone.” He brushed his fingers down the side of her cheek, causing her to shiver.

  “You did?”

  He nodded and slid his thumb over her lips. “I’ve missed you, Olivia.”

  “I’ve missed you, too,” she whispered. “These past few weeks have been. . .”

  “I know, but I’m here now.” He shifted his gaze to her lips and began to close the distance between them.

  “Wait.” Liv inched back and forced her gaze up to meet his. “You said that you have your life back. Does that mean that you no longer have your family responsibility?”

  “It means that my responsibilities have changed.” He lowered his hand. “I believe, and my father agrees, that in order to survive in this day and age, we will need to at least understand western culture and all of its nuances.” He squeezed her fingers and smiled.

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means that he wants to do more business with western countries, but in order to do that, he needs to learn as much about western culture as he can.”

  “You mean—”

  “He wants to learn English and etiquette. He wants to know what westerners are interested in, particularly the younger generation.” He nibbled his lower lip for a moment in thought. “I showed him your magazine.”

  “You did?” she asked, her eyes wide.

  “In fact, we talked about you quite a bit.”

  “I-I don’t know what to say.”

  “He really liked how you spoke highly of our people—and of me.”

  Liv averted her gaze as she felt the heat climb to her cheeks. “I only spoke the truth.”

  He hooked his finger under her chin, and lifted her head to meet his gaze. “We agreed that you would be the perfect person to help my family learn how to interact with Americans.”

  “What?”

  He smiled, and his entire face brightened like a kid on Christmas morning. “If you are willing, both my father and I would love to have you come to our country and teach us everything you know about western language and customs.”

  She pulled her hands from his grasp. “Oh my.” She turned away from him and placed her hand on her chest to steady her rapidly beating heart. This was happening fast, much too fast.

  “Is there something wrong?”

  Liv tried to speak, but the words were stuck in her throat.

  “Here, sit.” He led her over to a small bench and sat beside her. “What’s wrong?”

  She took in a deep breath and forced herself to meet his gaze. “I can’t go back with you, Nayo. My life is here. My job—”

  “We would pay you of course.”

  “I just got a promotion,” she blurted. “This was everything that I had been working toward, Nayo. My whole life. . .” Tears stung her eyes, and she blinked them back.

  He stared at her for a long moment, digesting her words. “I understand,” he said as he brushed a stray tear from her cheek. “This job. It’s important to you.”

  “Yes.” She let out a long breath.

  “Then you should keep it.”

  “I—what?”

  He smiled. “There’s no reason why you can’t keep you job and help us, too.”

  “But you just said—”

  “It will only be for part of the year. The rest of the time, we will stay here.”

  “We?”

  His smile widened. “You didn’t let me finish. My father wants to learn about western culture so that my family can do business here. He has appointed me to make connections here, in Los Angeles, so that we can begin to shift some of our businesses to America.” He took her hands once more. “Of course, that would mean helping the business owners secure land and startup costs. It would mean helping their wives learn English and their children find schools.” He squeezed her fingers. “My father and I have the money to help, but not the knowledge. . .”

  “My charity,” Liv whispered. “My charity could help.”

  He brushed a stray hair from her face. “I told you before, I wanted to help you with your charity. I think that this little arrangement would be perfect for both of us.”

  “And by spending some time with your family, I’ll be able to write more articles and spotlight the difficulties of learning a new culture.”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s perfect.” She threw her arms around him. “Thank you.”

  He pulled away slightly and frowned in thought. “You realize that this means that we’d have to spend a lot of time together. Are you okay with that?”

  She grinned. “Of course I’m okay with it. More than okay.” She narrowed her gaze. “Are you . . .?”

  “I’m, as you say, more than okay.” He chuckled and shifted his gaze to her mouth. “I’m falling in love with you, Olivia.”

  “I’m falling for you, too.”

  As Nayo leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers, Liv realized just how quickly her life could change. All it took was 24 hours with Nayo and her life was never the same again. The impact he had on her; her dreams and aspirations, what was important to her, what she wanted out of life--that was something she would always feel indebted to him for. Her life had so much more meaning and fulfillment since meeting him. And now that Nayo was back in her life, well, that was the cherry on top—though for the rest of her life, she would always prefer kale smoothies.

  The End

  About Lauren Hawkeye

  New York Time and USA Today bestselling author Lauren Hawkeye never imagined that she'd wind up telling stories for a living... though when she looks back, it's easy to see that she's the only one who is surprised. Always "the kid who read all the time", Lauren made up stories about her favorite characters once she'd finished a book... and once spent an entire year narrating her own life internally. No, really. But where she was just plain odd before publicatio
n, now she can at least claim to have an artistic temperament.

  Lauren lives in the Rocky Mountains of Alberta, Canada with her husband, two young sons, pit bull and two idiot cats, though they do not live in an igloo, nor do they drive a dogsled. In her nonexistent spare time Lauren can be found knitting, reading anything she can get her hands on, or sweating her way through spin class. She loves to hear from her readers!

  Don't miss a release or sale alert! Sign up for Lauren's newsletter here: http://eepurl.com/OeF7r

  About Suzanne Rock

  Suzanne now has a New Release Newsletter! Sign up for it here: http://bit.ly/1VmIlAZ

  A lifetime New Englander, NYT and USA Today Best Selling author Suzanne Rock married her college sweetheart and has been with him for over twenty years. Every summer she drags her husband and two daughters to Maine on a quest for the perfect lobster dinner. Every fall she can be found down in Foxboro, Massachusetts cheering on her favorite football team. In between those trips, she's a chauffeur, a maid, a chef, an event planner, a hairdresser, a wardrobe stylist, a tutor and a sometimes masseuse. To keep her sanity, she often drinks copious amounts of coffee and stares at the blank screen of her laptop, dreaming of great adventures. Sometimes she even writes them down for others to enjoy. For a listing of her books and appearances, please visit her website (http://www.SuzanneRock.com). She also loves to hear from readers!

  Note: Suzanne also writes mainstream romance under the pen name Ava Conway. To learn about her more sensual works, please visit her website at http://www.AvaConway.com

  If you enjoyed STOLEN BY THE SHEIKH, you might also enjoy:

  Caught On Camera

  Black Towers

  Los Angeles, California, 10:05 AM

  “Rumor has it that Cole Anderson just turned down the role of superhero Captain Patriot in the upcoming superhero film series in favor of a new web serial by Sunrise Productions. No word yet on who his leading lady will be.”

  -Starlet Weekly

  Cole Anderson adjusted his Ray-Bans and pulled the collar of his leather jacket closer to his jaw as the massive black limo pulled up in front of the gleaming column that was Black Towers, home of the famous Sunrise Productions, and his place of employment for the next several months. A crowd, buzzing with excitement, had already gathered on the sidewalk. This didn’t surprise him, but it did make him sigh a bit. Cole had asked for discretion about his involvement in the production company's new web-serial, but at the end of the day, he was a commodity, a chance for anyone who snapped a grainy cell phone pic of him to make a quick buck. Wanting to keep the project under wraps hadn’t been realistic, but he’d hoped to hold off the frenzy for a little while longer.

  Scrubbing a hand through his thick hair, Cole sighed, bracing himself.

  As soon as Fred, his longtime driver, opened the door, the small crowd rushed him. Girls who were far too young to be dressed the way they were screamed as they jumped up and down—sometimes even with their backs to him as they tried to catch selfies with him in the frame, a bizarre trend he would never understand. Flashes from smartphones and, damn it, the fancier cameras of paparazzi, snapped all around his head, making him glad that he had worn his favorite shades. Notebooks, scraps of paper, and naked skin were pushed right into his personal space, pressing closer, closer, always closer.

  Plastering a bright smile onto his lips, Cole emerged from the dim cocoon of leather seats and expensive elegance inside the limo and waved to the ever-growing crowd. This was part of the job, and he’d be lying if he said he hated fame. But sometimes this part of it—the meet and greet part—was insanely overwhelming, even after all of his years in the spotlight.

  "Back it up!" The security guard assigned to him by the production company tried to tuck Cole in behind his massive bulk, not an easy task, since Cole wasn’t exactly a small man himself. Plus it would have taken more than one big guard to hold back the frenzy, something Cole quickly realized he should have anticipated.

  "Cole! Can you confirm that you’re going to star in Sunrise Productions new web serial Love Me Harder?”

  "Yes, it's true." Ignoring the bared breasts of a girl way too young to be offering them for him to sign, he instead reached for the glossy poster of his last movie that a young boy was waving around with excitement.

  "This is the first time a romantic comedy has been released directly to the web."

  Cole looked up from the poster and tried to locate the reporter in the crowd. "Was that a question?"

  The reporter—a woman with frizzy chestnut hair and a predatory gleam in her eyes—cleared her throat. "Going direct-to-web is groundbreaking. You are basically thumbing your nose at all of the major networks and distributors by going direct-to-consumer. Do you think this is the future of the entertainment industry?"

  "I couldn't even begin to speculate.” Agitation skated along his skin, and Cole tried to focus on the little boy whose poster he had signed, whose mother wanted a photo. “That's not my job."

  Another reporter, a middle-aged man with sweat stains on his polo shirt, edged to the front of the crowd. "Rumor has it that your girlfriend, Regina Carlton, will be playing the love interest. Is this true?"

  Cole suppressed a shudder—not if he could help it. "Ex-girlfriend. And the female lead hasn't been cast yet."

  "Ex-girlfriend?" The reporter raised his brow. "This is news."

  Yeah, considering she’d thrown a tantrum like a two-year-old late last night and kicked him out of her apartment—the apartment he’d helped her pay for. He’d spent the night in a hotel, and even though it hadn’t been the fanciest one he’d ever stayed in, he’d ridden high on the freedom of being out of Regina’s suffocating apartment.

  He wasn’t going back—at least, not to stay. After his meeting, he'd return for his things., but hopefully by that point Regina would be at her waitressing job and he could get his stuff in peace.

  If he had his way, he’d never have to listen to her whine about the fact that she still served at a four star restaurant in between acting jobs while he ‘rolled around in his cash’ ever again. She’d never seemed to understand that that was his money, and he didn’t have to share it with anybody.

  If he’d loved her, that might have been different. But the weight that he felt had lifted off his chest today just reaffirmed that he hadn’t.

  "Did she break up with you because of the video?" This was the reporter with the smirk and shrewd eyes again. Cole had seen her around before, but he didn’t know her name. More than that, he didn’t like the way she was looking at him, like she knew something he didn’t.

  Video? "What video?"

  A phone beeped in the crowd, a sound that made Cole instinctively reach to check his own text messages. Then there was another, and soon the crowd around him was exploding with buzzes and dings. A collective gasp and murmur spread through the crowd, and Cole frowned uneasily.

  "The video that just released this morning." The reporter simpered at him, and Cole fought the urge to say something nasty, something that would no doubt be taken out of context and plastered across the media by morning.

  What would his publicist tell him to do? He sucked in a deep breath and channeled some calm. "I didn't make a video, nor did I authorize one to be released."

  One reporter shoved a phone in his face, but his security guard pushed it aside. "Enough questions. Mr. Anderson is a busy man."

  Saved by his security guard. Cole cast… what was his name? Sunrise had assigned the man to him before. Owen, that was it. Cole cast Owen a grateful smile as he turned away from the annoying reporter and waved one last time to the crowd before ducking into the front door of the building. Sliding his sunglasses into his jacket, he ran his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath.

  "You okay?" Owen and Cole both looked back at the crowd through the thick glass of the Black Towers lobby.

  "Yeah. Nothing out of the ordinary.” No, it really wasn’t… and yet something about the scene had left Cole feeling decidedly
unsettled. Though he supposed it could also have been due to Regina’s tantrum and the fact that he hadn’t gotten much sleep. Shaking his head to dislodge the feeling, he strode across the lobby, Owen trailing right behind him. He bypassed the stairs and elevators for a large, glass door on his right. The image of a sun peeking out over the mountains and the words Sunrise Productions were splashed in black paint on the door.

  "I'll be okay for a little while, Owen, if you want to take a break." He appreciated that the studio had provided him with some security, and he’d clearly needed it outside, but given his own desires, he didn’t much care to be constantly trailed by someone. He’d chosen this career, and yet he often wondered what kind of world he lived in, that people needed to be protected from one another like that.

  Owen didn’t reply, just nodding before melting into busy streams of people who moved around the lobby of Black Towers. Cole lost sight of him quickly, but he knew that he probably hadn’t gone far and would continue to keep an eye on him.

  Everywhere he went, eyes were always on him. It was hard for someone not in the industry to understand what that was like. Hey, he’d made his bed, and all that, but right now, when he was feeling edgy, he would have given up his fortune just for a bit of privacy.

  Pushing through the glass doors to the studio, Cole headed to the reception desk. It was to the studio’s credit that the woman seated at the desk, an attractive young brunette, only allowed herself a moment to stare at him wide-eyed before she composed herself.

  “May I help you?”

  "I'm looking for Ethan Black." Ethan was the owner of Sunrise, and also the nephew of the owner of the famous building, which was why he’d been able to afford such a tony office right from the start. While the studio could easily afford its rent now, Ethan—a laid-back, Owen Wilson lookalike—had always taken the hard road, throwing his weight behind creative projects rather than blockbusters. It had panned out, but he’d needed that help from his mysterious, rich uncle to start.

 

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