Auctioned To The Sheikh

by Lara Hunter

  He embraced her with warm lips and a passionate grasp, his hands making their way through her mess of curls. Emily felt like it was their first kiss all over again. Something awoke in her in that moment that she hadn't felt in a long time. Passion.

  No, not passion. Love.

  ELEVEN

  The next morning Emily awoke enveloped in Tariq's arms, his tan skin and strong muscles wrapped around her as her cheek rested on his chest. He twirled his fingers through her hair and kissed her fingertips, but never went to speak. It was as if neither of them wanted to disturb their perfect moment.

  She loved that he felt so warm against her. She nestled into her personal heater as tightly as she could and his arms wrapped her up in security.

  Finally, Tariq rolled onto his side and leaned down to kiss her, grazing her cheek with his hand. He looked her over and made a face that said he couldn’t get enough of her, tracing the sheets above her with his finger in the outline of her body. “I’m going to go shower and pack up,” he said. “We have a long flight ahead of us.”

  “Well good morning to you, too!”

  He gave her a small peck once more and chuckled as he said, “Good morning.”

  Emily watched as he got up out of the bed and moved to the bathroom, where the opulent marble shower awaited. She heard the water turn on, then suddenly the bathroom door opened once more.

  “Don’t forget to call your work,” he reminded her gently. “Then let’s get room service!”

  Emily sighed into her pillow. The night really was over, then. She looked over the room service menu and used her phone to translate some of the dishes. Using her best French, she called down and ordered some fresh pastries, fruit, and poached eggs. Along with some strong coffee, she figured it was an unbeatable way to start the day.

  A terrible way to start the day, however, would be putting in a call to Mark. She could already feel her stomach turning with nervous anticipation.

  She dialed the familiar number and groaned inwardly as Mike answered.

  “This is Mike speaking.”

  “Hi Mike, it’s Emily,” she said sweetly. “So I’ve run into a bit of a problem.”

  “Okay…” Mike said in his usual half sarcastic drone. “What can I do ya for, Emily?” He made sure to enunciate every syllable in her name, which only annoyed her further for some reason.

  “Well I, um, I was supposed to be in the office today but I—”

  “My patience,” Mike interrupted, “is wearing thin already, and it’s not even nine. What’s the problem?”

  “Okay, so I took a little weekend getaway and my flight home has been delayed, so I’m going to have to call in a personal day.”

  “Yup, sounds about right.” Mike sighed and then sipped his coffee, a large slurp audible over the phone. “See you tomorrow, kiddo.”

  With that, Mike hung up the phone.

  Emily was surprised at how well the call had gone. Then again, Mike had been throwing her plenty of curveballs this week. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.

  She put down her phone, walked over to her suitcase, and slipped on a lacy white summer dress. It was one of her favorite pieces since it could be dressed up with heels or dressed way down with cowboy boots. She was personally fonder of the latter option and slipped on her shoes with delight.

  Stepping over to the window, Emily took one last look at the boulevards of Paris. She tried to make herself take in the moment, wondering when she would ever get the opportunity to see the ancient city again. She sighed and let go of the curtain, walking back to her suitcase to finish packing up.

  As sad as she was for her windswept weekend to be over, part of her was excited to get back and talk to Lindsey.

  She had a lot of stories to tell.

  TWELVE

  Heading into work after such an amazing weekend felt like a dream come true. Previously, Emily had watched her co-workers trail into work after the weekend with impenetrable smiles plastered on their faces, humming songs in the elevator and acting irritatingly chipper.

  But not today. Today she was part of the club, the love club, and she couldn’t be happier.

  She made her way to her desk, her eyes skimming the room for Lindsey all the while. Finally, she spotted the blonde with a purple flowered mug in her hand.

  Lindsey raised her brows, acknowledging her friend and walking up to her looking somewhere between exhausted and annoyed.

  “Don’t you dare hand me a croissant,” Lindsey said, clearly nursing some sort of hangover.

  “We’re off croissants now?” Emily asked, trying not to sound too chipper and failing utterly.

  “Oh yes,” Lindsey said, setting her tea down on Emily’s desk. “I ate myself into a carb coma all weekend.”

  “And here I thought this look was a whiskey coma.”

  “That, too,” Lindsey scoffed. “Well, vodka.”

  “Ah. Trouble in paradise?”

  “Didn’t you hear?” Lindsey deadpanned. “I confessed my feelings to Tommy-boy this weekend.”

  “What?!” Emily had nearly forgotten about the month-long saga of Katherine and Tom, Lindsey’s crush. “How did this happen?”

  “I ran into him at Pookah,” she said, referring to a nightclub downtown.

  Emily winced. “Yikes… and?”

  “And I basically spilled my guts about stalking him online, told him Katherine’s hair looked like a bird’s nest, and went on a soul-crushing soliloquy about my undying love for him.”

  “Ouch,” Emily frowned, putting her hand on Lindsey’s arm. “How’d he take it?”

  “Well, I told him I can tell when he walks into a room based on the smell of his hair gel so yeah, I’m pretty sure he was a little freaked out.”

  “You never know,” Emily responded, trying to find the silver lining. “Maybe he likes clingy women?”

  “You think that’s clingy?”

  “No,” she said slowly, unsure how to proceed without offending her friend. “I think it sounds like you’re ready to bust in through his bedroom window and chop his body up into little pieces.”

  Lindsey laughed at that. “Em!” she chided. “I was five vodka sodas in. What do you want from me?”

  “Not sanity, apparently. So, have you seen him since then?”

  “Only from afar,” she groaned. “Everyone in his department keeps giving me funny looks so I guess the cat’s out of the bag.”

  “At least Katherine will avoid you like the plague?”

  “That’s what I love about you, Em. You’re always looking on the bright side.”

  Taking her usual spot sitting on the corner of Emily’s small office desk, Lindsey picked up her green tea and wrinkled her nose to her friend. “Speaking of which, where have you been? Mike said something about a late flight? Since when do you travel on the weekends?”

  Emily slapped both of her hands over her chest as though she could hardly contain herself anymore, her voice taking on the high pitch that only a girl who is truly in love can accomplish. “Oh Lindsey, I’ve been dying to tell you. I was in Paris and the Middle East with,” she paused for dramatic effect, “Tariq!”

  “The Sheikh?!” Lindsey gasped. “No way!” she cried, slapping Emily lightly on the shoulder. “We are so not friends anymore if I have to hear you gushing about your new, hot, tan, billionaire boyfriend.”

  “Seriously, Lindsey, it was the most romantic, most spontaneous thing I’ve ever done.”

  Just then one of Emily’s coworkers walked up to her cubicle. His name was Albert and he was one of the youngest interns in the office, with bright red hair and a face that was peppered with freckles.

  “What’s up, Albert?” Emily said.

  “Um, Mike wants to see you in his office,” he said curtly.

  Emily nodded her acknowledgement, but Albert just stood there, staring at Lindsey, a grin tugging at his lips.

  “Yeah, yeah, Al,” Lindsey mocked. “I know. My love life is hilarious. Now, don’t you have some work to
do or something?”

  Albert’s eyes widened and his face flushed as red as his hair. He frowned with embarrassment and quickly scurried back to his desk.

  “I was five vodkas in!” Lindsey shouted across the room.

  “That’s not helping,” Emily said.

  “Whatever. I’m going to my office to die of embarrassment now. Have fun talking to El Pervo.” Lindsey stood from the desk and began walking back to her office. Spinning on her heel, she whispered, “You’d better tell me what ended up happening with the Sheikh!” before she was lost again within the office cubicles.

  Emily could feel her giddiness rising just by thinking about the new man of her dreams. Her excitement soon died down though, as she realized she had to go in and talk to Mike. Odds were he wasn’t happy with her missing a day of work.

  She bit her lip and made her way to his office, some of her colleagues staring pointedly at her as she approached the door. She didn’t blame them; generally speaking, if someone was going into Mike’s office, it wasn’t for a good reason.

  “Well if it isn’t the little missus, come to sprinkle my office with vaguely flirtatious comments?” Mike said as he stood up and shut his office door behind him. He pushed a seat out with the tip of his boot and raised his brows as if telling her to sit.

  Somewhat hesitantly, Emily went and sat in the chair across from his desk. “Not really,” she brushed him off in a lighthearted tone.

  Mike may have been sleazy, but the man knew how to decorate an office. His room was all glass and mahogany, with large bookshelves featuring first editions of rare historical novels. He liked to read, she knew that much, which she always found that odd, considering how slimy he seemed otherwise.

  “Little lady, I think you’ve got some explaining to do.”

  “I do?” she said nervously, rolling up the sleeves of her cardigan.

  “Yup.” Mike raised his brows and started thumbing through some papers, flipping them pointedly as his eyes darted up to hers. “In fact, I’m pretty sure I know exactly what’s going on with you.”

  Her heart sank. Great, he knew about this weekend, the getaway, her lying about the plane. Mike was efficient if nothing else. And still, as annoyed as the man made her, she actually felt guilty.

  “Mike, I’m so sorry, I can explain everything. I actually flew out to the M—”

  “—The Middle East. Yes, I know all about it,” he interrupted. “But that isn’t what this is about.”

  “Is isn’t?”

  “No,” he said breathlessly, tossing a stack of papers in front of her. “I do know all about your little tryst with the Sheikh, or whatever it is. But, my dear, I’m here to talk to you about this.”

  Emily leaned forward and her eyes skimmed over the papers, which she immediately recognized. It was her faulty accounting—proof that she was the one who stole from Salt River Resorts to the tune of ten thousand dollars.

  She put her hand on the stack, pained, and stared up at Mike in shock. “Mike, I’m so sorry. I… I can explain everything. I know nothing is going to be good enough but, please, let me explain myself.”

  “No need!” he responded, almost comically. “You stole money. Stealing is stealing is stealing. That much is clear, yes? What I’m really interested in…” He paused, frowned, and then corrected himself. “What I’m looking for is information about your boy-toy. He wants to buy the company, did you know that?”

  “I…I heard rumors,” she stammered, not sure where this was going.

  “Right, right,” Mike mumbled incoherently. “My commitment to retirement is not great.”

  “Come again?”

  “Getting fired,” Mike specified. “Don’t take me for a fool. I know what’s going on here.”

  “Actually, when I spoke to Tariq he specified that nobody would be losing their jobs, so…”

  Mike laughed, hard. He slapped his knee and looked at her as though she were a silly child. He bit his lip and narrowed his brows suspiciously. “I know the plan,” he said. “I can write this script pretty well, actually. The Sheikh takes over with the Hasan Group and all of a sudden—bang! Emily’s the new boss. Am I right?”

  Emily blinked, surprised. He actually thought Emily was going to replace him? The thought had never occurred to her. Sure, she’d dreamt about it, but it was never something she thought could actually happen.

  “Mike, no,” she said slowly. “You’ve got it all wrong.”

  “Spare me,” he dismissed with a wave of his hand. “I’m not going to let it happen, and here’s how I know. Because the Hasan Group isn’t buying us out.”

  “They’re not?”

  “Not if I have anything to say about it. And my insurance in this plan is going to be you, Emmy-Wemmy. You are standing at the right hand of the devil.”

  “Right now…or with Tariq?”

  Mike chuckled again, pointing a finger at her. “You’re a funny one,” he said through gritted teeth. “I mean with the Sheikh. Now listen, Emily, I like you. I’ve always liked you. But, you’re a thief. That’s just the truth. But luckily for you, I wanted to talk to you personally before I took any legal action… and I can make your problems go away…”

  She blinked. “If?”

  “If you help me sabotage the buyout. You access the company accounts and make it look like we’re going broke. You’re pretty good at abusing your privileges with our accounts, aren’t you Emily?” He sighed, tapping his pen against his desk. “You don’t help me, and I’ll make sure you are virtually un-hirable. I will out you to the company, call the police and sue you. I will have you thrown in jail, and your relationship with the Sheikh will fall apart as quickly as it came together. Do I make myself clear?”

  Emily didn’t know what to think. On the one hand, Mike was right to be furious with her—she had stolen from the company, after all. She was in the wrong. If he pressed charges and sent her to jail he would be in the right. On the other hand, asking her to stage a sabotage against the man she loved just so that Mike could keep his job and ease his paranoia was just plain wrong.

  Her thoughts twisted over to her mother and her pulse quickened. Her mother, while no longer at death’s door, was still ill and in need of care. If Emily went to jail, her mother would be helpless.

  She cringed inwardly and wanted to burst into tears when she realized her decision was already made for her. She simply couldn’t afford to have this come out and haunt her life forever. Nothing was worth that.

  She shrugged helplessly. “Just… tell me what to do.”

  THIRTEEN

  “You’re staying late again?” came the tired voice on the other end of the phone.

  “Yes,” came Emily’s hushed tone. She looked around her office to see if anyone was listening in on her conversation. For whatever reason, she always felt like whenever she was on the phone with her mother, people could hear them from a mile away. “I know you hate it when I work so much overtime.”

  “I thought we were having dinner tomorrow; I was going to make the drive out with Aunt Kelly. Is that not happening anymore?”

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  Her mother’s tone was downcast. “Oh.”

  “Yeah, well, disappointment seems to be a theme for the week, doesn’t it?” Emily complained in a whisper. While most of the office had cleared out, there were still a few sales reps lingering about before close.

  It had been like this for a solid week. Emily came in at eight in the morning and didn’t leave until ten at night. Mike had her working insane hours to help her manipulate accounts in his favor in private. He had promised in return that not only would he not turn her over to the police, but the money she would earn working overtime would be a great start at finishing playing off her mother’s debt. He was a slimy one, but he had a good point.

  “What does that mean?” Emily’s mother, Janet, asked curiously.

  “It means I’ve been working a lot.”

  Her mother hummed and hawed on the other en
d of the phone; Emily could hear music playing loudly in the background. Some days, Emily swore she did that just to bother her when she was on the phone.

  “You can turn your music down,” Emily lectured.

  “You can turn your schedule down,” Janet twitted back. “Come on, come take care of mom and I’ll treat you to dinner and drinks.”