by Holly Rayner
“You really don’t approve of the way I live, do you?”
“I just think it’s weird that you have someone to open and close doors for you all the time. It’s not that hard.”
“And yet this man has a job, a roof over his head, and—as you so keenly observed—his duties are very light for him. His family is well provided for, all of his children provided with a private education. But if you think I should give that up and simply get the door myself, I’m happy to tell him he is dismissed.”
Beth put a hand up. “Okay, okay, point taken. I’ll bear that in mind from now on,” she said, taking a bite of her pastry.
“‘From now on,’ you say? Can I take this to mean you’ve made a decision on my offer?”
Beth chewed on her pastry for a moment before answering. “I will agree to work for you, on a trial basis, for six months. If I don’t find the job a good fit in any way, I will resign effective immediately. Those are my terms,” she finished, her gaze challenging.
Osman was used to a challenge. He liked them, in fact. He waved a hand, and his assistant left the room, returning shortly after, carrying a document.
“Those terms work for me. Here is your contract, ready to sign whenever you are,” he said, pushing the paper toward her across the table.
Beth took her time reading it. She read every word, slowly turning each page. When she got to the end, she looked up at his outstretched hand, holding a heavy pen. She hesitated one more time, then took it, and signed her name.
“Six months in the Middle East. Feels like another tour,” she said.
“I think you’ll find the accommodations a bit more comfortable here than on a submarine,” he said with an encouraging smile. To his delight, she smiled back—a real one this time.
“You do have a really nice shower,” she said, taking a heartier bite of her pastry now that everything was settled.
Osman clapped his hands together, suddenly all business. “So, first things first—I’ll have some new clothes ordered for you. If you’re going to live in my world, you’re going to have to adapt to this culture. That means no jeans and T-shirts everywhere we go.”
Beth frowned. “I know you think of me as some kind of fun accessory, Your Highness, but I take my job seriously. I’m not going to say no to new clothes, but you can bet your ass I won’t be protecting you in high heels and a cocktail dress. I need sensible clothing that I can fight in, if need be.”
Osman tried not to grin at that—it was clear she still believed that she might actually have to protect him. He kept his expression sober, not wanting to offend her.
“I understand. I’ll talk to my purchaser and see what we can work out. We should have a new wardrobe delivered to your room by this afternoon. Until then, I invite you to acclimate yourself to the house, and relax. You’re not officially on the clock yet, and I want you to have some time to adjust. Please, take the day and explore the grounds, and tonight we will be going out to my favorite club. I think you’ll like it,” he finished, standing after taking one last bite of pastry.
“Please, enjoy your breakfast, and I’ll see you later,” he said, giving her one last nod before heading out the door.
“Have a nice day, Your Highness,” Beth called to his back.
“Osman,” he said.
“Nope,” she replied, and he could hear the grin in her voice.
Beth Coolidge was going to be one tough nut to crack, Osman thought, smiling as he strolled out the door.
FIVE
Beth
Beth waited for the door to close before she wiped her mouth and gazed around at his room.
So this was where Middle-Eastern royalty slept. It wasn’t so different from her own sleeping quarters. There was a large king-size bed draped in gossamer hangings, the small dining area where she sat, and a living area with a few sofas and chairs placed before a fire.
Compared to her own suite, the Sheikh’s quarters seemed much more masculine. The room was furnished with dark woods and leather, and the whole area just smelled…manly. Beth tried to ignore the subtle cologne that rested on the furniture. She also actively avoided looking at the Sheikh’s bed, which hadn’t been made yet, and was still covered in tangled sheets from the night before.
Beth stood, dropping her cloth napkin on the table and strolling around the room. There had been no indication that the Sheikh would be back anytime soon, so she felt comfortable exploring his chambers. He’d left her there, after all, hadn’t he? And if she wanted to know the man she would be working for, she needed to get a glimpse of who he really was. Beth couldn’t help it, but she was really, really nosy.
Glancing in the bathroom, she found a full shaving kit and another raindrop shower head. There was also an enormous hot tub that had stone walls around it, made to look like a waterfall. It was absolutely stunning.
A small door led to a private theater room with six large, comfortable-looking chairs all angled towards an enormous screen. Baskets of full candy bars were placed on small tables in between, and there was a bar on the side with drinks and a microwave for making popcorn. Beneath the screen, Beth saw a series of gaming consoles and a compartment filled with video games and movies.
“This is awesome,” Beth breathed.
She loved movies. She loved going to the cinema, too, but thought this place might be even better. Unable to help herself, she sank into one of the chairs in the front row, and caught a glance at the movies perched on top of the DVD player. Her eyebrows lifted at the titles, which weren’t scheduled for release for several months in American movie theaters. Top of the line, indeed.
Forcing herself up from the plush recliner, Beth made her way back out to find a couple of maids cleaning up the Sheikh’s room. When they saw her, they paused and bowed.
Beth tried not to blush as she nodded back at them and headed out of the room, into one of the winding hallways. Taking a guess at where to go next, she went right, and eventually found herself at a locked door—a dead end. Glancing around, she pulled a hairpin out of her pocket that she kept for this very reason, and pressed it into the key hole, wiggling it around. The door swung open with a small creak, and Beth swept into the room before anyone could notice what she was doing.
Beth was met with a wall of darkness, and, pulling out her phone, she turned on the flashlight and held it out to the small room. It was a storage closet. There were boxes everywhere, some labelled, some not. Old toys and rocking horses were stacked haphazardly, everywhere she looked.
Even the rich have messy closets, then, Beth thought with a grin.
Draped over a horse was a small, blue baby blanket, with a name written on it in Arabic lettering. Beth ran her fingers along the soft fabric, covered in dust.
“Who are you, Osman Al-Haddeni?” she whispered to the blanket. The man claimed to only want her as a prop…some kind of status symbol. But was there more to it than that?
Beth’s phone rang, a piercing sound in the dark silence of the closet, and she scrambled to hit the button to answer it, not bothering to look at who was calling.
“Hello? Beth, are you there?” Connor’s voice shouted.
She put the phone to her ear and spoke softly, not wanting to get caught hanging out in a closet on her first day.
“Hi Connor, I’m here,” she said, trying not to sound like she was whispering.
“Why are you whispering?” he said.
Beth rolled her eyes, glancing furtively at the door. “I’m not. It must just be a weird connection. Long distance calling sucks, you know.”
“Okay,” Connor replied, clearly not buying it. “Weirdo. Anyway, I just got your signed contract scanned over—great job, kid! I know you’re going to do great. You are going to do great, aren’t you, Bethie Bee?”
Beth bristled at his insinuation. What, like she wouldn’t do her damn best, like she always had, her whole life?
“I don’t fail, Connor. You know that.”
“You don’t always fail, true. You j
ust failed with us.”
Beth was about to say something when she heard the sound of another phone ringing in the background, and Connor’s voice cut her off.
“Gotta go, duty calls. Just wanted to congratulate you, babe. I knew you could do it!”
Before she could reply, Connor had already hung up the phone.
Feeling annoyed, Beth exited the closet and got lost three more times in the hallways before a young maid found her and led her back to her suite.
“Thanks for helping me,” Beth said, relieved to be back somewhere she recognized.
The girl bowed respectfully. “His Highness has asked me to be your tour guide of the grounds, so that you don’t get lost again, miss. I’m Nura, by the way,” she said with a grin.
Beth couldn’t help but smile back. “Does that happen a lot?” she asked, and Nura nodded.
“Every time His Highness has a guest to stay, or hires a new staff member. It’s not a small estate, miss. People normally need some time to adjust and find their way. It’s why the Sheikh provides a day to acclimate to the premises. We could lose someone for days—there are parts of the estate where virtually no one goes.”
“Like where?” Beth asked, unable to help herself.
Nura bit her lip, as though trying to decide how much to tell. “His Highness’ mother’s quarters, for example. They are kept clean, but she has been gone for so long now that all of her furniture has been covered in wait of her return.”
“Why did she go?” Beth asked, but she knew she’d gone too far.
Nura’s expression hardened instantly. “That is a question only the Sheikh can answer, miss. I’m afraid I am limited to the areas we do use. Whenever you are ready, I am happy to show you around myself.”
“I’m ready now. Show me everything you can.”
Nura smiled again and gestured for Beth to follow her. As her official tour began, Beth’s mind wandered to the empty halls where Osman’s mother once lived.
That was a story she would definitely want to hear.
SIX
Beth
To say that Osman’s home was opulent was an understatement. Every room was filled with expensive art, tastefully decorated in a different theme. Beth took note of a distinct European flair in the decidedly Middle-Eastern mansion.
“And across the way here you’ll find the pool house and gardens, miss,” Nura said in her thick, melodious accent.
The maid opened the door and the two of them strode quickly across a cream-colored patio landing, Beth shielding her eyes from the glistening water of the pool. Even those two seconds outside were unbearable in the heat, but, glancing to the other side of the pool house, Beth was thrilled to see a wide variety of plant life in the gardens.
Her tour guide smiled. “His Highness is an avid gardener; he loves his plants very much,” she said.
“Do you like working for the Sheikh, Nura?” Beth asked as they opened the door to the pool house and slipped inside. There was a large stone bar, fully stocked with top brand liquor. Chaise longues were spread around the room, beckoning all who entered to lay back and relax. Beth was sorely tempted to do so herself.
“Oh yes, miss,” Nura said with a blush. “He is a most generous employer.”
Beth realized she’d made the girl uncomfortable, but when one works
