He coughed politely to get her attention back from the files. “Miss Morgan, I wanted to speak more freely with you.”
She looked up at him and gulped. “Oh God, I’ve moved all the way to another time zone and continent, and you’re already firing me? This is the worst month ever. I can’t even tell you how embarrassing it’s going to be to have to go home and then I’ll have two firings on my resume and is there anything at all I can do to make you rethink all of this?” she asked.
He wondered when she even stopped to catch her breath.
Does she need to breathe? After that display, I’m not even sure.
Zahir laughed and stroked his chin. “No, Miss Morgan, you’ve completely misunderstood me. I actually have been nothing short of impressed with your professionalism, dedication, and overall efficiency.”
“Really? My old boss always made me feel like I was dumber than a box of rocks,” she admitted, blushing as bright as her hair color.
Zahir secretly enjoyed the way her blush colored those pale and fine porcelain cheeks of hers. Part of him would love to trace kisses over those soft patches of skin, but that wasn’t what he needed to be focusing on. She was a good employee, and he was already using her quite a bit to get the information he needed. It was unlike him to just keep taking from the people who worked for him. Still, Miss Morgan was utterly distracting, and it was hard for him to speak with her without having his mind wander over to exactly what else he would like to be doing with her.
“Then Clayton McDermott was an idiot.”
“I did ruin his suit. It’s not like he was wrong about everything,” she admitted, crinkling her nose in a way that Zahir could only describe as delectable.
“And you still are one of the only secretaries I’ve ever heard of in his employ to last more than six months. It’s a shame that someone would spend so much time breaking you down. You really have helped make me better and more on top of things these last two weeks, and I wouldn’t have thought that possible,” he admitted, setting his hands on his hips. “I did have something I’d like to ask you, though.”
“Name it. If there is an area I can tweak to be a more effective assistant, then you know that I’m going to try and work my butt off on that,” she said, biting her lower lip. “Okay, maybe I won’t mention my butt next time in front of my boss.”
Oh, I love thinking about that.
He stifled his own urge to be far too honest with her before he continued. “Actually, I was thinking that after two weeks of good, solid work that I could take you out to dinner to celebrate. There’s a great restaurant, very unique to Dubai, and I’d love for you to be my guest. I know the chef personally and—”
“No.”
He paused and frowned. At first, Zahir thought he’d misheard her. After all, no one ever said no to him. It went along with being both a CEO and a sheikh. His word was law. Besides, not to put too fine a point on it, but it wasn’t as if women had ever refused him before.
“Excuse me, I thought you said ‘no.’”
“I did,” she said. “I think that it’s not…people might whisper about me, and I just want to do a good job. That’s all.”
“Nothing has to happen that you don’t want,” he said, even though he desperately wanted her to explore many options with him. “However, I don’t feel I have a good grasp of you yet. I just want to get to know you better when there’s not a lot of pressure from the day job or anything else.”
Addison considered him, her blue eyes searching his own. He wasn’t exactly sure what she was trying to find there in his face, but he hoped that whatever she saw would lead her to accept his offer. Seeming to have found her answer, she shook her head a bit. Zahir couldn’t escape the feeling that some part of his request had disappointed her. He just didn’t understand what he could have offered her in his request that would have pleased her more.
“Alright, I’ll go, but just…I’m not easy,” she stammered, and now her cheeks were as red as a tomato.
“I think you’re so nervous around me because you expect me to be like Clayton McDermott, to yell at you because it makes me feel big or to set up arbitrary games for you to maneuver through daily because it’s some sick, masochistic fun for me. I assure you that I’m not, and I truly believe that getting to know me off of the clock is exactly what you need to do.”
Addison nodded. “Okay, then I’ll see you tonight. Should I meet you at the restaurant?”
“No, I’ll pick you up in the limo.”
“Really?” she asked, and it was worth it just to see the actual surprise and joy in her eyes.
I can be your Prince Charming, Miss Morgan.
***
She wasn’t sure what she was doing. No, scratch that. Addison knew exactly what she was doing. She was giving in to her temptations. Ever since that fateful night at the costume party at Club Rouge, she’d gone to sleep dreaming of Sheikh Amun’s tongue laving at her body, of his lips suckling at her precious pearl. She desperately wanted to feel that again, but now they were working together, and he didn’t know she’d been his kitten. At least if he did, then Sheikh Amun was playing everything so close to the vest that she’d never be sure on her own. The smart thing would have been to say no to his job offer and then force herself to take on the bank teller job that William was trying to swing for her. But that wasn’t what she wanted. She’d spent almost a year denying her id. First, it was working at a job that she hated and had nothing to do with fashion design. But it had been more than that. She never even went out to have fun with her brother or her few friends during those eight months. Addison had lived in terror of disappointing her boss, and she had been especially afraid of being too tired the morning after going out to do her job correctly.
She’d put anything her heart would have desired into a deep, dark box and worked hard not to think about it for months.
And frankly, she was tired of living that way.
So that was the reason she’d said yes to Sheikh Amun’s offer, even if every bit of common sense screamed that the last thing she should be doing was having a night on the town with her boss, especially when Sheikh Amun’s reputation preceded him. Of course, her mind would also reassure her that maybe she was assuming too much. After all, he was one of the wealthiest and most eligible bachelors on the planet. If this weren’t actually about making her feel comfortable at work but trying to seduce her, then that seemed oddly illogical. He could have any woman he desired and then some. She was just Addison Morgan, hopeless in debt and far curvier than she should have been.
Maybe it really was just about getting to know each other, which was far more consideration than she ever got from Mr. McDermott.
That circling trail of logic was playing in her mind as she stood outside her apartment complex. He’d promised to pick her up, and sure enough a limo pulled up in front of her. He stepped out, looking nothing short of delicious in a tailored suit that hugged his masculine frame well, showing off the muscular chest underneath its silk.
Sheikh Amun offered her a devastating smile, his teeth glinting in the streetlights. “Well, Miss Morgan, you look fetching.”
She felt her cheeks flush with her eagerness and also with her embarrassment. She might not make it through the night if his charms reduced her to a puddle on the pavement right now.
“You don’t have to get my door,” she said, unsure if she should bow to the sheikh. He was her boss, and she just felt bad he’d even gotten out of the limo for her.
“I would love to get it. I said I wanted to make tonight relaxing, give you a way to feel yourself around me. And part of me being myself is also trying to be a gentleman. I’m sure my sister, Fairuza, would have a lot to say about all of this. However, I have been known to open doors for lucky ladies on occasion,” he said, leading her to the other side of the car and then opening the door for her. “It’s the least I could do.”
“Actually,” she countered, “the least you could do w
as leave me to do it myself.” Addison highlighted her point by giggling a little and winking at him. “But this is appreciated.”
As she slid onto the limo’s bench seat, her skirt caught on the leather and was lifted fairly high up on her leg. She blushed, realizing that she’d exposed more of her thigh to him than was technically polite. Still feeling her face reddened, she reached down and pushed the skirt back down. Even if she were partially embarrassed, she couldn’t help looking up and seeing if the sheikh had reacted. Maybe a gulp or a flare of his nostrils.
Damn, no such luck.
She still wasn’t sure what kind of outing they were on—date or business dinner. And worse, she wasn’t sure which she hoped it actually was.
“So,” he said once they were both settled and he’d ordered the driver forward in some terse words in Arabic. “Tell me more about yourself. You wanted to be in fashion. Do you still think you’ll work in that?”
“Right now, I just need to pay off my student debt,” she admitted. “Otherwise, it would be amazing. I don’t even want to do something huge like fashion week. I really do love creating the weird stuff. Con things.”
He frowned back at her and Addison felt as awkward as she always had back in high school when she got on an excited diatribe about the intricacies of her favorite anime. It was her nerdy side peeking out and the sheikh wasn’t going to like it. Rarely anyone ever had.
“What type of con?”
“Like a fan convention? I make all sorts of costumes. I guess my dream is to have some online business or even a small boutique where I create costumes for fans of TV and comic books and other things and can do creative, one-of-a-kind pieces. It’s not a Paris runway thing, more just being able to sew and create what I love. That probably bored you a lot.”
He shook his head and patted the hand she had laying on her knee. “It doesn’t. If I didn’t want to know about you, I definitely wouldn’t have asked.”
Biting her lower lip, Addison nodded. “What about you, Sheikh Amun? Do you do everything you want to?”
“No.”
Her head snapped back as if he’d slapped her a bit, and Addison wondered what she’d done to earn that sharp rebuke.
“I’m sorry?”
“No, I mean…I didn’t say it right either. You don’t have to be formal tonight, Addison. Just call me Zahir. We’re not in the office after all.”
Shit, maybe it is a date. Wait, what do I do if it is? Oh God, Addison, play it cool.
“Then I think that’s fair. I’m serious. Is running the oil company the only thing you want to do? If you didn’t have to take care of your family’s massive empire, then what would you do?”
He stilled and frowned, looking out of the window and she watched as the lights of Dubai played over the planes of his face, those sharp and irresistible cheekbones. After a long time, he finally spoke. “I honestly don’t know. This is what I’ve always done. I was raised from a young age, both my sister and I were, to help take care of Amun Petrol and run Dubai. I never thought about other things because, honestly, they’ll never be options. My company and my people will always need me.”
“It doesn’t mean that people still don’t have dreams,” she pointed out. “Granted, a lot of people just want to be rich and famous. I think you have those two things covered.”
“It’s not always as glamorous as it sounds,” he said. “There are things I want, yes.”
“Like?” she asked, cursing a little under her breath when they hit a bump and she fell sideways and onto his lap. It was an awkward tumble, but at least it had answered one of her questions, though she wasn’t sure what else to make of this information. Addison could definitely feel the ridge of his erection, hard and firm, pressed up against her thighs. It distracted her for a moment, and she couldn’t quite remember anything else she’d been saying, couldn’t even seem to will her body to move so that she could get out of his way.
Her breath was coming in hard gasps, as if she’d run a marathon, and she felt her heart thud hard against her breastbone.
Oh, I know what I wish I could do. What I wish you knew about me, Zahir…
“I…I’m sorry,” she said, trying to slip off of him.
He reached out and soothed her unruly red curls back behind her shoulders. “No, don’t be sorry. It’s not as if you put the bumps in the road. We were talking, Addison. We can keep doing that here.”
He flexed his hips just enough to press his manhood against the apex of her thighs.
Damn him. He knows exactly what he’s doing.
One hand stroked her cheek as well. “There are definitely things I want. Someday I’d love to start a family, and if I had any job at all, I think I’d love to work with animals.”
Addison finally had enough pause to collect her thoughts. Slipping off of his thighs and back to her seat, she tried to get the conversation back into normal territory. “Animals, really?”
“We have horses at the palace. Mother raised Arabians. I also had a pet falcon and I was quite adept at hunting with them. I just have always had an affinity for the wild and nature. I think a job working outdoors and with animals would have appealed to me quite a bit,” he said, smiling back at her. “Yes, I think you can say about me that I love a wild time.”
She felt heat flare through her belly.
Oh man, I’m definitely not going to last the night.
***
“Wow this place is huge,” she said as they sat down at the black-lacquered table at Buddha Bar.
He nodded. “It’s a bit kitschy in the décor. I’m not sure I’m a fan of the giant, Andy Warhol-style Buddha pictures, but the food here is excellent and the beverages even more so. Of course, if you’d rather try an actual delicacy of Dubai, then we can go to a more traditional place.”
Addison shook her head, and he loved the way the long curls of her hair escaped every attempt she’d made to tame them. They were now falling free and were as delectable as always. “No. I’ve been here over two weeks. To be honest, I can afford the local eateries near my apartment. I’m getting to like the gyros and the lamb and the hummus, but it’d be nice to try something new. I mean, when I’m home in the States, I don’t always eat just Americana and burgers.”
“True, no man or woman could live on beef alone.”
“But you can try,” she pointed out. “I don’t have anything against it.”
He nodded back at her as the waitress came by. Maybe he was being a bit of a show off, but why learn a variety of dialects for business if he couldn’t show off. With slightly accented—even he’d admit that—Korean, he asked for the assortment of delicacies of the house, including some intense sushi options and kimchi. He also ordered warmed sake, that rare Juyondai that he could only get here unless he wanted to journey forth to Tokyo.
When she was gone again, Addison was glaring at him.
So there is truth behind that legend of redheads and tempers. I never would have known that.
“What?”
“Did you already order for me? In Chinese?”
“No.”
“Oh good then.”
“I did it in Korean. Most of the owner’s family is from there; it’s why truly delicious kimchi is on the menu.”
“So you did order for me!”
“I wanted to give you a traditional time. I almost always order for my dates,” he said, setting the menu down and tenting his hands. “Why wouldn’t I? Maybe you wanted to go Dutch and split the tab at the end of the night as well?”
“I couldn’t begin to afford that,” she admitted, blushing brightly and looking down at the table. “I just meant that I can order for myself, and this is a date then, isn’t it?”
“I think it’s just a casual gathering of people who want to know each other better, take that as you would. Perhaps I let my chivalry get the better of me. I’ll ask next time, but I promise you that you’ll find everything else completely delightful. If you
don’t like what I’ve ordered, then you can try anything else on the menu.”
“Good then,” she said, her eyes growing wide with curiosity when the sake pitcher and the small, clay cups were delivered to their table. The chefs had also been kind enough to get them a couple of rolls, including eel and tempura shrimp. “So that would be the wine?”
“The sake, yes. Have you ever had any?”
“Some not great stuff heated up in the microwave back in college. I have a feeling it’s as much real sake as a Slim Jim is meat.”
“Then,” he said, accepting the sake from the waitress, “you’re in for a treat. This brand has a surprisingly fruity flavor but packs a wallop.”
Addison gladly accepted his drink and brought it to her lips. Part of him wished fervently that she’d bring something else to her soft, pillowy lips, but that was for another time. She took a swig and grinned broadly back at him. “That burned all the way down, but it was good, very citrus-y.”
“So a burning orange, then? A worthwhile way to spend your time?” he asked.
She nodded and picked up her chopsticks. “And then what are these? The white stuff in the middle doesn’t look like my usual California roll.”
“Eel,” he said, eating his own bite. “Fatty but delicious.”
She grimaced. “Well it wouldn’t be the weirdest thing I’ve ever put in my mouth,” she concluded as she chomped down. “It’s not bad but it’s definitely fatty. I think I’ll stick to the tempura roll. At least that much is familiar.” Addison took another huge gulp of the sake and poured herself a second cup. “The rest? Not so much.”
“I’m sure you’ve had eel before if you’ve had sushi, maybe not realized it.”
“No, I mean a boss I can actually stand, Zahir.”
He chuckled. “Well that is certainly high praise, isn’t it? I’m glad you can stand me, Addison.”
She rolled her eyes back at him playfully and munched on another tempura roll. “I’m serious. My last boss…I don’t want to get the reputation as a gossip. I should be more professional. It’s not fair to speak poorly of someone who isn’t here to defend himself. I mean, my mom raised me with better manners. I’ve tried so hard to be professional since I got out here and…”
Sheikh's Revenge Page 4
