The Sheikh's Stolen Lover - A Second Chance Sweet Romance (The Sheikh's New Bride Book 5)

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The Sheikh's Stolen Lover - A Second Chance Sweet Romance (The Sheikh's New Bride Book 5) Page 5

by Holly Rayner


  Keziah had set the tea service on the marble table in the center of the room, and she poured as they took their seats.

  “Thank you,” Ellie said, looking up at her.

  Keziah bowed her head and withdrew.

  “She won’t speak,” Mahmoud said, realizing how strange this might seem to an American. He’d spent four years in California, after all.

  Ellie’s eyes widened. “Why not?”

  “She’s afraid of me.”

  “You… You don’t hurt her, do you?”

  “Of course not!”

  “Why is she afraid, then?”

  “As Sheikh, I have power over her,” he explained. “I have the right to send her from my employ at any time, for any reason. I wouldn’t do it,” he hastened to add, “but my father was known to send employees away for trivial offenses. Once, a valet missed a button on his jacket and I never saw him again.” He took a sip of his tea. “Keziah needs this job, no doubt, to support herself and likely a family. She’s very wary of losing it.”

  Ellie crossed her arms and sat back in her seat. Mahmoud wanted to laugh. She looked like a petulant child. “Why don’t you just tell her you’re not going to fire her?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Why should she believe me? Why should she think I’m any different than my father?”

  “Are you?”

  “I hope so,” he said, quietly. “I hope to someday earn her trust.”

  “You lied to me,” she said. “I don’t think you’re about to win any trust contests.”

  “When did I lie to you?”

  “At Stanford. Or now. I’m not sure. One of the two. You said your name was Bahir then, and now you said it’s…” she trailed off, obviously unsure.

  “Mahmoud Al-Kartar,” he filled in. “Mahmoud to friends.”

  “Mister Al-Kartar,” she said, somewhat huffily.

  He smiled. “It’s Sheikh Al-Kartar, if you wish to be formal.”

  “Fine. That’s not the point. The point is either you were lying back then or you’re lying now, so which is it?”

  He sighed and sipped his tea. “It’s something of a long story, but I’d like to share it with you, if you have the time.”

  “Not like I’m going anywhere. I missed my flight, remember?”

  “I know you’re angry with me, Ellie. But I’m hopeful that you and I can move past that. I’m very pleased to see you again.”

  “I really wouldn’t hold your breath.”

  “I was Bahir,” Mahmoud began. “That was the name I went by at Stanford, and I didn’t give you a false name to mislead you. That was the name by which everyone knew me during that time in my life. I was Bahir to my friends, to my professors, even my parents addressed my letters to Bahir.”

  Ellie’s eyes were wide as saucers. “You mean like…a secret identity?”

  “You and I said that night that we had never met,” Mahmoud continued. “You were amazed by how unlikely that seemed. Do you remember?”

  “Yes.”

  “Perhaps you also remember a student who went to school at the same time you did who was always accompanied by bodyguards?”

  “There were a couple,” Ellie said pensively. “It didn’t seem weird at a prestigious school like Stanford. I think we had a child star on campus when I was there, and a politician’s daughter, and a Middle Eastern—oh!”

  “A Middle Eastern exchange student.” He nodded. “That was me.”

  “But wasn’t that kid a diplomat’s son?”

  “That was the story my handlers came up with—they could hardly tell everyone there was a prince on campus. That’s why I used a false name. I couldn’t allow anyone to discover who I really was.”

  “You could have told me,” she protested. “I wouldn’t have gotten from ‘Mahmoud’ to ‘Prince of Al Fahad.’ I’d never even heard of Al Fahad back then.”

  “Okay. You wouldn’t have connected it. You and I knew each other for a few hours one night. What if we’d been friends for longer than that? Eventually my last name would have come up, and then all it would take would be a single internet search. A ten-year-old could figure it out.”

  “That’s true,” she conceded.

  “So I’m sorry I lied to you, Ellie. And I’m sorry I’ve caused you to miss your flight. But I’m certainly not sorry I met you, and I’d like it very much if we could take this time to get to know each other as we really are, and not the versions of ourselves we were in college.”

  He waited, hopefully, for her response.

  Chapter 10

  Ellie

  Ellie couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing.

  Despite her protestations, she never had quite put that night with “Bahir” behind her. It had always been present at the back of her mind, a little unanswered question that needled her even as she tried to move on. Not only the question of what had happened, but the question of what might have happened if things had gone differently, if they had had more time together.

  She had let the years fog her memory, she now realized. She had obscured, in her mind, the sharp angles of his face, the way his eyes pierced hers, the way her stomach dropped like she was at the top of a roller coaster every time he laughed.

  Now, her crush—that was what it was, a crush, and one more powerful than she could ever remember experiencing—was back in full force. She looked away from him, to the lemon trees that stood around his handsome courtyard, to her cup of tea, to the marble columns that lined the walkway, because meeting his gaze was like staring into the sun. It was impossible. Intolerable. Painfully, brilliantly, perfect.

  She was furious with him.

  She couldn’t let that go. She held onto it like a life preserver. It was the only thing that could keep her from being swept away by the tide of these feelings. She was outraged, and she was right to be outraged, wasn’t she?

  The way he’d treated her was actually appalling. He’d kidnapped her from the airport. She’d been afraid for her life. It would have been so easy to send someone who spoke her language, to explain the situation to her—to ask her, in fact, whether she would like to visit the palace, rather than just stuff her in a car and drive her off into the desert—she would have said yes, for God’s sake! Now nobody knew where she was. Mark and Vince… Well, they probably weren’t worried about her, but when she didn’t arrive home on schedule, her bosses would wonder where she had gone. Then people would worry. Maybe her parents would be called.

  Oh, God. She couldn’t just vanish. She would have to find a way to get word to her parents, or they’d panic. Probably call the army or something.

  She looked back at the man across the table. He was watching her expectantly, stirring his tea slowly. He looked so calm and serene, as though there was nothing out of the ordinary about today. It was hard to fathom. This had been the weirdest day of Ellie’s life.

  “Mahmoud?”

  “That’s right.” He sounded pleased.

  “And you’re the Sheikh.

  “Right again!”

  “And you said your father was Sheikh before you?”

  “It’s a hereditary title. I became Sheikh when my father passed.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Thank you. It was hard. I miss him a great deal.”

  “So you’re actually the ruler of the country, though?”

  “I’ve always known it was in my future,” he said. “I grew up in this palace. I watched my father rule. My tutors prepared me for the day I would take on the responsibility, teaching me about politics from a very young age. And yet, it’s very unusual to be Sheikh at my age. Since the office remains with the oldest member of the ruling family, it’s common for a new Sheikh to be in his forties or fifties before assuming the throne. I never expected it so soon.” He sighed.

  “Does it make you sad? I mean, of course it’s sad that you lost your father, but isn’t it nice to be in a position of power? To be able to make a difference?”

  He sipped his
tea thoughtfully. “I’m glad to be a royal,” he said. “I’m glad this is part of my life’s story, but I don’t think I was ready for it.”

  “Why not?”

  “I went to Stanford to study business,” he said.

  “I remember.”

  He smiled. “That wasn’t just a lark. I was truly interested in business, and when I finished school, I started one of my own. Unfortunately, I had to give up my stake in the firm when I assumed the throne. The company is thriving in my absence, and I miss it dearly. I love Al Fahad, and I’m proud and honored to guide her, but that company was something I built myself.”

  Ellie nodded. “I know what you mean. I mean, I didn’t start my own company or anything, but I do get to build things that I’m proud of. It would be hard to give that up.” She pressed her fingers to her temples. “Of course, I’m probably going to be fired now.”

  “Fired! Why?”

  “You said you saw me on TV. You saw what my coworker did.”

  “Is that a fireable offense?”

  “Offending a powerful diplomat in our host country? I’d say so. No one is going to want to buy our app now.”

  “So why don’t they just fire him? You didn’t do it.”

  “I’m his boss,” she explained. “I’m responsible for him.”

  Mahmoud nodded sagely. “I see. Responsibility can be a tricky thing.”

  “Especially when those things are high functioning alcoholic ex-frat boys with a god complex.”

  He chuckled. “Well. I wouldn’t know about that, so much.”

  “You’re lucky, then.”

  “In many ways.”

  They sat in silence for a moment. The wind rustled the leaves of the lemon trees. Ellie knew she was still in the desert, but it was easy to forget about that in this room, with its rich soil and lush greenery. It was almost magical, the way it made her feel that she could be in a completely different part of the world. What other magic was contained within this massive palace? If she stayed, maybe she would have a chance to find out.

  On the other hand, if she extended her stay in Al Fahad, her already tenuous position at Noralli would be in very serious jeopardy. She imagined calling her boss. I know you’re mad at me about what happened with Mark and you’re probably waiting to fire me as soon as I step off the plane, but what if, instead of that, I take a two-week vacation to hobnob with the Sheikh and then you don’t fire me? Sound good?

  Yeah. Sure.

  Mahmoud seemed to sense her thoughts.

  “Ellie, I can have you on a plane home tomorrow morning if that’s your wish. But I’d like you to stay here with me, as my guest. It’s been so long since we last spoke. And…” he cast his eyes downward. “I’ve always been sorry for leaving you the way I did.”

  Then why did you?

  She didn’t voice the question. What could he possibly say that would make her feel better about the way that night had ended? Yes, he should have let her down easy instead of pulling a vanishing act, but the past was the past. She could forgive him and move forward or stay bogged down in it.

  Of course, there was the issue of work to think of. NorMo was Ellie’s baby, and she couldn’t bear to think of it in the hands of Mark and Vince, who would never achieve its true potential. It would be heartbreaking to lose her job and have to write off five years of her career and start over somewhere new.

  But could she really pass up an experience like this? Exploring a beautiful palace in a foreign land, spending her days with an incredibly attractive sheikh who wanted only to show her a good time and win her forgiveness and approval?

  “I’ll need to call home,” she said. “I’ll have to let my boss know where I am.”

  “We’ll arrange for you to do that.”

  “What am I supposed to say to them? That I just decided not to come home?”

  “You were here for the tech conference, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then tell them there was additional interest in your product. Tell them the Sheikh of Al Fahad asked you to stay and explain your product in more detail. You can’t very well say no to an offer like that. They’d surely understand.”

  “Are you actually going to let me pitch the product?”

  “I’d be happy to hear about it, if that would please you.”

  “Oh, don’t do me any favors,” she sighed. “I must be insane.”

  “Then you’ll stay?”

  “Yes,” she said, hoping she wouldn’t live to regret it. “I’ll stay.”

  Chapter 11

  Ellie

  By the time they finished their tea, it was getting late. The sun had gone down, and the courtyard they sat in was now illuminated by a bunch of artificial lights set at intervals around the perimeter. Ellie felt simultaneously exhausted from her ordeal earlier in the day and excited by all she had yet to discover. It was like being a kid at Christmas. She’d never had this feeling as an adult.

  She swayed a little as she got to her feet. Mahmoud noticed. “I’ll call someone to show you to your suite.”

  “My suite?”

  “Where you’ll be staying during your time here. I hope it’s to your liking.” He shook down his sleeve and pressed a button on his watch. It appeared to do nothing. “You’ll have a private bathroom, of course, and your balcony has a small swimming area.”

  “My what has a what?” Ellie was stunned.

  “We’ll arrange for you to place a call to your employer from there. I believe it’s currently noon in California. May I assume you know their phone number?”

  Ellie nodded.

  The girl who had served the tea appeared, then, moving as silently as she had when she’d left them.

  “Keziah,” Mahmoud said. “Please show Ms. Mills to the primary guest suite and ensure that she has everything she needs.”

  “Primary guest suite?” Ellie repeated.

  “It’s usually used for visiting dignitaries,” Mahmoud replied. “Good evening, Ellie. I’ll call for you tomorrow.”

  “You’ll call? How will I know where to go?”

  He laughed. “I mean, I’ll send Keziah to get you and she’ll show you to breakfast.”

  “Oh.” Ellie blushed. “Right. Of course.”

  Keziah bowed and faced Ellie. “Ms. Mills?”

  Ellie followed her. Keziah’s footsteps seemed to make no sound as they ascended a wide marble staircase. Ellie’s steps, on the other hand, were loud and echoing, and she felt as out of place as an elephant.

  They climbed three more flights of stairs before reaching a wide, carpeted hall.

  “This carpet is really pretty,” Ellie tried, feeling somewhat spooked by Keziah’s silence.

  No response.

  “Do you speak English?”

  “Yes, Ms. Mills.”

  “You can call me Ellie. I’d really prefer it, actually.”

  “Yes, Ms. Ellie.”

  Well, she’d tried.

  Keziah pushed open a pair of high wooden doors. “The primary guest suite,” she announced.

  Ellie stood in the doorway, marveling at the sight that greeted her. The room was so beautiful that she felt reluctant to tarnish it by stepping inside. An intricate rug, which must have been handcrafted, lay on the polished wood floor. Ellie felt sure she could never step on it. The bed was a high four-poster surrounded by netting, with a thick white comforter that looked untouched. A brick fireplace held a single log, ready to be lit, and pale blue curtains blew in the breeze through the open window.

  Keziah stepped in, so Ellie had to follow. “The bathroom is through here,” she said.

  Ellie peeked and saw a beautiful, massive, all-white room with sculpted arches and ceiling and a plush chaise. Two giant fluffy towels hung beside the sink, and a row of intricately carved soaps lined the edge of a deep bathtub.

  Keziah opened a wardrobe to show Ellie extra blankets and pillows, poured a glass of water from a pitcher, and set it beside the bed. “Is there anything else you need?” she
asked.

  “No, thanks.”

  Ellie felt overwhelmed. Is there anything else I need? What else could there possibly be?

  She could see the French doors leading to what had to be the balcony Mahmoud had spoken of, and although she was longing to see the swimming area for herself, she was far too exhausted. She fell back onto her bed and was instantly engulfed in a pile of pillows. She swam her way out just in time to hear the door click shut as Keziah pulled her disappearing act once more.

  What a day, Ellie thought. Just this morning, she’d been apologizing for Mark’s careless blunders and preparing for a torturous fifteen-hour flight in a cramped coach seat. Now she was a guest in a luxurious palace, being hosted by an incredibly attractive sheikh.

  If fairy tales were real, she thought, giving in to her exhaustion, this would still be way too unbelievable.

  Chapter 12

  Mahmoud

  Sometimes Mahmoud wondered if the pressure of ruling a country was driving him insane.

  Even though he kept a copy of his schedule on the computer in his room, a print copy was hand-delivered by a valet every evening. It was a service Mahmoud hated. He liked being able to step away from the computer, to forget, if only for a short time, that the coming day would be packed with high-stakes meetings in which he would have to make decisions that would profoundly affect the lives of the people in his country. I’m not equipped to do that, he thought, staring out over the dunes, the slight breeze a comfort in the intense heat. I’m too young, too unprepared.

  Could temporary insanity explain today’s behavior?

  Every time he thought over what he had done, he cringed. Yes, he had wanted to see Ellie, but had it really been appropriate to put her in the car at the airport with no explanation? Ellie must have been scared to death. He should have thought about that before he’d done it.

  And yet, what was the alternative? He hadn’t had any English-speaking guards available at the time. What was he supposed to have done? It was the only way to get her here. She would thank him before this was all over, he felt certain of that. Who didn’t want to see the palace, after all?

 

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