by Holly Rayner
Beth’s stomach twisted as she mentally rehashed their conversation. Hadn’t she called him a spoiled rich boy? How had he not turned the car around and tossed her right back on a plane back home?
Just then her gaze was caught by a reflective sparkle, and she gaped in amazement at the vast and expansive mansion that came into view before them.
The driveway led them past a huge, rectangular pool that reflected the shimmering lights from the mansion as dusk fell. He parked the car in front of two massive, polished wood doors, and turned off the engine.
Getting out, he made short business of coming around to her side of the car, opening the door, and holding out his hand for her.
Beth hesitated. Sure, he was extremely attractive, but he’d basically just tricked her into saying things she never would have said had she known the interview was already underway. Her eyes were stinging with exhaustion. Really, what other choice did she have?
She gripped his hand firmly, ignoring the tingling sensation in her fingertips as he helped her from the car, and they stood face to face.
“I am Sheikh Osman Al-Haddeni, heir of this estate and its current owner. I’d like you, Beth Coolidge, to help me keep it safe.”
His gaze was warm, and Beth couldn’t tell if it was the heat or his eyes making her melt. She gave herself a gentle shake, pulling her hand back from his gentle grasp.
“You seriously want to hire me? We haven’t even interviewed!”
“Haven’t we?” he asked, lifting one eyebrow in an infuriatingly handsome way.
“But you don’t know anything about me. You don’t know what I’ve done, what types of protective services I’ve engaged in,” Beth huffed. This was not going at all like she had imagined.
“I think I know enough. Up until a few weeks ago, I had a full security outfit—all male—that I had hired to escort me wherever I went. They were competitive with each other and, I believe, threatened by me. I didn’t like the way they looked at me, with barely concealed hatred in their eyes. So, I’m hoping you might have a bit less ego for me to compete with. Your job won’t be too difficult, Miss Coolidge. I’m distant enough from the throne that no one would want me eliminated to get me out of their way. Aside from that, I hardly need protection, as you can see,” he held out his arms, as if to say, in case you haven’t noticed how built I am.
“You’ll basically be a protection prop—a status symbol, to put it bluntly. I’ll keep you around so others know that I have enough money to pay you, and that is all. If you’d like some assurance that you’ll be adequately compensated for this, here is your first paycheck, in advance.”
He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a check. Beth took it, casting a glance down at the amount line. The blood rushed to her head. It was more money than she could make at any job back home in half a year! And that was just one paycheck.
“How often are the payments?” she asked quietly.
The Sheikh smiled. “Weekly, of course.”
Beth felt her face go red. It was too much. If she could stick to this job for even just a year, she thought with a grin, she’d have enough to retire at the same time as her mother. Still, looking up at the Sheikh’s handsome face, she knew she couldn’t accept that quickly.
“Can I have a night to think about it, Your Highness?” she asked, and saw him wince slightly at the use of the formal title. Good. She would use it permanently.
“Of course. You’re exhausted. Please, allow me to escort you to your rooms. I had Adil take care of your baggage, and your other bag will be brought to you shortly.”
“Got it,” she said, smiling. Beth wanted the Sheikh to see that she wasn’t going to be just another one of his servants to order around. To her surprise, he smiled back.
“Yes. You certainly do,” he said, striding toward the massive front door, which was opened from the inside by an unseen member of staff.
“Thank you,” she said, wondering if the Sheikh had ever had to open doors for anyone, let alone himself.
Beth was beyond exhausted, but what she saw when she strolled through the door almost made her eyes pop out of her head. It was like entering a museum, except it was someone’s home. The foyer alone was as big as her mom’s three-bedroom home, tastefully decorated with warm colors and paintings that Beth guessed were all originals. She imagined that this must be what Elizabeth Bennett felt like when stepping into Mr. Darcy’s house for the first time, though comparing herself to Lizzy Bennett made the Sheikh Mr. Darcy, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about attaching that romantic moniker to him.
As the Sheikh guided her down the ornately-decorated hallway with candlelight fixtures on either side, Beth caught sight of a painting of a naked woman combing her hair, as seen from behind.
The Sheikh followed her gaze. “Ah, yes. I love Carrière. He had such a fascination with the female form, an appreciation really.”
“It’s just a shame that back then women were seen as nothing more than vessels for babies, servants to do chores and otherwise keep silent,” Beth retorted.
“I think it’s a bit more complicated than that, Beth, but I see your point,” he said, stopping at a door on the left.
“Here you are,” he said, opening the door for her.
Beth held tight to her bag, stepping inside and turning to face the Sheikh.
“Thank you, Your Highness, for picking me up, and for the job offer. I’ll let you know my decision in the morning.”
“Very good, Miss Coolidge. I certainly hope it will be a positive one. I also hope you will forgive me for starting the interview so underhandedly. I’m often treated differently because of my title, you see, so it was important for me to know what you really think.”
“Then why am I still here? I insulted you, didn’t I?” Beth said, unable to keep herself from asking. To her great surprise, the Sheikh laughed.
“It will take a lot more than being called spoiled to insult me, Miss Coolidge. You’ll find my skin is very thick,” he said, reaching unexpectedly for her hand and planting a kiss on it.
Beth pulled her hand back. “Goodnight, Your Highness,” she said, moving to close the door.
“Miss Coolidge?” he asked, before she could get it closed all the way.
“Yes, Your Highness?”
“Call me Osman,” he said with a grin.
Beth grinned back. “No.”
She closed the door on the Sheikh, smothering a laugh. She’d lost count of how many times she’d manage to raise those stellar eyebrows today, and she imagined it was more times than the women he was used to.
Turning around and looking out at her suite, Beth’s mouth opened of its own accord and hung like a fish. It was like, she could only imagine, being inside Buckingham Palace. She had a sitting area with a fireplace (like that was ever necessary), and a huge bedroom with a canopy bed draped in sheer white netting. Her bedroom opened up to a balcony that overlooked the city.
Dropping her bag, she headed straight to the bathroom, an open space with a showerhead dropped right down through the ceiling. When she turned it on and jumped in, it felt as though she was showering in warm rain.
Donning a pair of shorts and a tank top, she snuggled into her enormous bed. Her last thought before losing consciousness was I could get used to this.
And then she was fast asleep.
FOUR
Osman
He’d dreamed about her that night.
Osman stood on his balcony, staring out at the glittering city. It was still early enough to stand outside, before the heat would rush in like a wave, forcing everyone indoors.
He wasn’t seeing the city, though.
Her eyes were a rich brown color, just a little lighter than his own. Her hair was the color of chestnuts. And her body… There was something about her that Osman instantly liked. Maybe it was her toughness, or her desire to prove that she could handle anything a man could. He imagined being a female soldier would do that to someone. Nowhere else would you have
to prove yourself more than as one of the few women in a world of men. Osman admired her for it. He hoped she would accept the position.
A light knock at the door announced Adil’s presence, and he came in after a short pause with a silver tray laden with coffee and a light breakfast.
“Your breakfast, sir,” Adil said, setting it down on a table just inside from the balcony.
“Thank you, Adil,” Osman said, stretching in his satin robe as he cast one last glance at the city. “Will she be joining me?”
“Momentarily, sir. She’s getting dressed.”
Osman tried not to imagine her getting dressed, and instead sat at the table and fixed his coffee the way he liked it, with lots of sugar and cream.
A few minutes later, there was another knock at the door.
“Enter,” Osman said, trying not to sound too pretentious. It was clear Beth had strong opinions about his opulent lifestyle, but she certainly hadn’t complained while she gawked at his home the previous evening. Osman believed she’d quickly be able to adapt to the life of luxury. Everyone always did.
When she entered the room behind one of his female staff members, his breath caught in his throat. She wasn’t dressed extravagantly. She seemed to have an attachment to low-budget jeans and T-shirts. Osman realized he was going to have to have some clothing ordered for her immediately.
To his surprise, she laughed.
“Do I look that bad to you, Your Highness?” she asked, her eyes mischievous. It was clear she liked making him feel uncomfortable.
He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. Two could play at that game.
“On the contrary, you look like a dream. I trust you slept well?”
She blushed at the compliment, and Osman suppressed a broad grin. Apparently Beth wasn’t so thick-shelled as to be completely immune to his charms.
He knew he shouldn’t be flirting with her. He knew he couldn’t afford to mess this up. If she proved to be someone he could trust, they could end up being great friends for a very long time. He had already considered that, after a while, if everything worked out, he could offer to have her mother flown out to live on the estate, too.
“I did, thank you. It’s nice to have a few hours of sleep under my belt so I can think clearly again,” she said.
He gestured at the chair across from him at the small, circular table, and she took a seat, making a small face as she glanced at the tray.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing. This looks really good,” she said, reaching for a pastry and a glass of water.
He watched her for a moment.
“You don’t like coffee,” he guessed.
“It’s not my favorite, no,” she said, taking a sip of water.
“But you do like something warm at breakfast,” he guessed again.
She took another sip. “I normally drink green tea. But in this weather, I might have to give it up.”
With the sun fully risen, the heat was beginning to seep into the room, and Osman gestured for a staff member to close the door. He saw Beth’s eyes flash at this, and realized she was repressing another face.
