Accidentally the Sheikh's Wife

by Barbara McMahon

  “I’m footloose and fancy free. I don’t see settling down when there is the entire world to see. Working with Starcraft, I get the chance to explore places I haven’t been.” Besides, I have never fallen in love before, she thought, watching him. And I don’t expect to find another like you.

  “You don’t see yourself settling down, making a family?” he asked.

  “If I meet the right guy, I guess I would,” she said. “If he loved me in return.” For too long she’d considered herself like her father—too interested in the wide world to settle for one spot. Now that she met Rashid, she sure didn’t feel that way. She’d traveled to every continent on the globe. Made friends in various places. Yet nothing drew her like Rashid. Maybe that was the difference falling in love made.

  Rashid nodded, wondering why he cared if she settled down or not. He was not interested in marriage. He’d agreed to the scheme with Haile as a business move. Her defection saved him. He would be grateful to her on two counts—keeping him single, and introducing Bethanne into his life.

  She was different from women he knew. That was the novelty of being around her. Soon the novelty would fade and he’d move on. He didn’t want to think like a cynic, but he had no expectations of falling in love. He wanted Bethanne, liked being with her. But surely there was more to love than that.

  She was a refreshing break from the routine of his life. One he didn’t want to end too soon. It didn’t hurt that she was so pretty. He enjoyed watching her. Or taking her to events. She looked relaxed and pleased with life in the blue dress she wore. He would love to adorn her with jewels, but she’d carefully returned the sapphire necklace once they returned to the villa after the polo dinner. He’d offered for her to keep the necklace, but she’d refused.

  He should have told Khalid that. Maybe knowing Bethanne better, he’d realize his assessment was off. She wanted nothing personal from this charade. She was almost too good to be true. But he’d seen no sign of avarice in her.

  He stared out across the garden, wondering about Hasid’s comments to her. The old man couldn’t know more about Hank than he did. Hank had worked for his father. In the morning he’d have his assistant find out more about the wild story the man had told Bethanne.

  “I need to fly to Morocco on Friday to sign the contract.”

  She sipped her coffee before nodding. “Then I’ll ask for a few more days of vacation so I can stay a bit longer,” she replied.

  He was pleased she agreed to stay. Maybe he’d take time from work and spend it all with Bethanne before she left for good.

  The thought of her departure weighed heavily. Yet he knew better than she that there was no long-term future for them together. His family would never accept the daughter of a thief—moreover the one whose actions contributed to his father’s death. She didn’t speak his language. He didn’t want a wife. And he would not dishonor her by having an affair. Time together, memories made, then goodbye.

  His gaze shifted to her as she sipped the hot tea. She loved flying. And he couldn’t see asking her to stop. It was a novelty to have her fly his plane. Maybe he could hire her to fly for him—his private pilot. That way she’d always be around. And when he needed to travel, Bethanne would travel with him.

  “After Morocco we could fly on to Paris, if you like,” he said. He knew women around the world loved Paris.

  “That would be nice.”

  “You don’t sound as excited as I thought you’d be.”

  “I haven’t seen Paris with you. That would make it special,” she said slowly. “I enjoyed our excursion into the western part of your country. Maybe another trip there?”

  “Quraim Wadi Samil? It’s hardly a hot spot. Not a place we would have gone had Alexes not needed immediate medical attention.”

  She faced him. “It hardly matters where we go, if we’re together, don’t you think?”

  He wanted her as he had wanted no other woman. Not even Marguerite. But caution held him back.

  “It doesn’t matter, as long as we’re together,” he said, already regretting the day they would say goodbye.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  RASHID answered the phone the next morning when his assistant told him it was Khalid.

  “So the deal is done. You’ve both signed?” his brother asked without amenities.

  “I’m flying to Morocco on Friday to sign with Benqura. Then it is done. And a better deal than expected, thanks to his daughter’s flight. He needs to save face and I’ve assured him I will handle things on this end.”

  “And how to explain to the minister that your special friend Bethanne left?”

  “I don’t have to explain anytime soon.”

  “Because?”

  “I’ve asked her to stay. I may offer her a pilot’s job. Alexes will not be able to fly again. Another stroke could happen at any time.”

  “There are other pilots who work for us.”

  “I choose who will fly my planes.”

  “Fly your planes and warm your bed.”

  “Hardly that. Bethanne and I are not involved to that extent,” Rashid said coldly. Not for lack of desire on his part. Bethanne was special, and he would treat her so. For as long as it suited him. And her.

  “She wants something. Mark my words.”

  “And what does it take to prove you wrong—her friendship and loyalty for fifty years?” He knew what Bethanne wanted. It was impossible to give it to her. Beyond that, she cared for nothing he had to offer.

  “That’s a start.”

  Rashid laughed. “Give it up, Khalid. She is not like the others.”

  A groan sounded. “You are too far gone. All women are alike.”

  “Cynic. Is that why you called—just to warn me again about her?”

  “No, I’m going to open Grandmother’s other house. I can’t decide whether to live there or sell it. So I thought if I stayed there a few weeks, I’d know what I want to do. It’s strange to go there without her.”

  “She wanted you to have it, Khalid. She loved that house because it was her father’s that he gave to her when she married.”

  “My flat suits me. I’m not in it long enough to feel closed in.”

  “Give it a fair chance. You don’t have to rush into selling.”

  When Rashid hung up, he thought about his brother. Life had treated them so differently. Both had the same advantages until the fire had destroyed part of his brother. It wasn’t only the scar. There were wounds that went deeper. Were the al Harum men doomed to stay single? Not leave heirs on the earth?

  How would he fare if he took that step? What if he considered marriage with someone like Bethanne? Their children would be beautiful. She’d be full of surprises for a long time. Would they agree on how to focus their lives, or always want something different?

  Not liking the way his thoughts were going, he picked up a report and refused to think about her for the rest of the morning.

  Easier said than done, he admitted a few moments later. He didn’t believe Khalid. His brother had not been around Bethanne long enough to know her. Yet that shadow of doubt wouldn’t fade. Marguerite had seemed devoted, until offered a sum of money. Would Bethanne prove as shallow?

  Restless, he checked his calendar. There was nothing pressing. Telling his assistant he was going to take the rest of the day off, he headed for the villa. He wanted to see her, spend time with her. Assuage the doubt and prove once and for all she was different.

  Prove to Khalid that Bethanne was unique.

  When Rashid reached the villa it was to find Bethanne had gone out.

  “Where?” he asked the maid. Maybe he should have kept Fatima to watch her.

  But Bethanne wasn’t a prisoner. She was free to go where she wished.

  “She received a note and then asked if Teaz could drive her to the city,” Minnah said. “I don’t know when she will return.”

  Rashid nodded and went into the study. Using his mobile phone, he called the driver.

  “Whe
re are you?” he asked when Teaz answered.

  Hearing they were in old town, Rashid arranged for Teaz to stay there until he arrived. He’d enjoy showing Bethanne some of the history of the capital city. She’d enjoyed Quraim Wadi Samil; he was sure she’d enjoy the architecture of the Romula district.

  When Rashid pulled in behind his limo, driving his own small sports car, Teaz climbed out and came to open his door.

  “Where is she?”

  “I stop here. She walks to the square,” Teaz said.

  “You’re dismissed. I’ll bring her back to the villa.”

  The chauffeur bowed and returned to the limo.

  Rashid walked toward the square. It brought back memories. Hank Pendarvis had lived in this area of town. He remembered that. His father had thought so highly of him. His assistant had not yet contacted Hasid. What if there was some truth to the old man’s story? Could Hank have crashed? It still did not explain why he stole the plane.

  When Rashid reached the square he paused for a moment, searching. Her blond head was quickly found. She sat at a table with an older man. From the way they were talking, Rashid knew they weren’t strangers. Who was he?

  The spurt of jealousy that hit him surprised him. He didn’t want to admit he had stronger feelings for her. But seeing her laugh at something her companion said jarred him. He wanted her laughter and her smiles. He wanted her.

  Walking around the square, his gaze never left them. They were so caught up in their conversation, neither looked up until he stopped at the table.

  Bethanne’s eyes widened when she saw him. For a moment anger burned. He realized he was used to seeing a spurt of happiness when he came near. Now she looked startled—guilty? He kept his anger under control. The first rule—find out the facts before acting. Nothing so far condemned her.

  “Hi, Rashid. I didn’t expect to see you here,” she said with a quick glance at her companion.

  “Probably not.” He looked at the other man.

  “This is Walt Hampstead. He teaches English at the university,” Bethanne said quickly. “Walt, this is my host, Sheikh Rashid al Harum.”

  Host? They were pretending more than that. To everyone.

  The man rose and extended his hand. “Sheikh al Harum. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Rashid shook hands and then looked at Bethanne. “The man who knew your father?”

  She nodded. “Do join us. We were talking about mutual friends.” She gathered the photographs displayed in front of her and stacked them, handing them back to Walt. He put them in an envelope before Rashid could see them.

  “I was showing her pictures of my family. It’s good to talk to Hank’s daughter. I don’t see many Americans in Quishari, you know,” he said easily, tapping the envelope against his leg.

  “You have lived here long?” Rashid asked.

  “Almost twenty years. Married a local girl. We have two children—teenagers now.” He glanced at Bethanne. “I hope to see you again soon. Thanks for the update.”

  Bethanne smiled and nodded, her glance flicking to Rashid.

  “I did not mean to run you off,” he said.

  “I need to be going. Classes soon.” Walt nodded once and quickly walked across the square and down one of the side roads.

  Rashid pulled out a chair and sat. The waiter hurried over and asked if he wanted anything.

  “I’ll have a coffee,” he said, leaning back. His curiosity rose. “What was really going on?”

  Bethanne looked at him, her eyes wide. “He knew my father. He doesn’t believe my father stole a plane, either.”

  When his coffee was delivered, he took a sip of the hot beverage. Bethanne fidgeted with her own coffee cup, now nearly empty.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked at last.

  “I thought I’d take you up on your offer to take some time off. I expected to find you at the villa.”

  “I still want to see as much as Alkaahdar as I can. Wander around town. This is a nice café.”

  “We can wander around old town if you like. I sent Teaz away. I drove.”

  “Lovely. The architecture is similar to that in Quraim Wadi Samil, don’t you think?”

  “It’s from the same age.”

  They finished their coffee and started out. The stalls selling food were crowded. The others had vendors calling out, enticing people with special sales. Bethanne smiled and walked at his side. When they reached a cross street, he waited to see what she’d do. She appeared to be studying the architecture as if she were genuinely interested. Rashid watched her. He was still bothered by the encounter with the other man. She was tenacious in searching for Hank. She was not one to give up quickly. He wondered how she’d found the man who had known Hank.

  A woman came from an apartment building. Rashid stepped aside to allow her to pass on the narrow sidewalk. When she saw Rashid’s gesture, she smiled as she walked past—stopping suddenly when she saw Bethanne.

  “Were you coming to see me?” she said in Arabic.

  “No. Should I be?” Rashid asked, wondering who she was.

  “The woman was here in the street a few days ago searching for the man who had the flat before me. She was told I knew nothing about him. I thought maybe you were coming to seek more information. I have nothing else to add.”

  Bethanne watched, her eyes darting from Rashid to the woman back to him.

  He looked at her.

  “You were looking for more information about your father?” he asked in English.

  Bethanne nodded. “I was hoping he’d left something behind that might tell me where he’d gone and why. She wasn’t home last time I was here. But Walt said he came by when he hadn’t seen my dad for a while and was told the apartment had been cleared before being rented again. The man on the oil rig told me he crashed. Walt said he spoke of a secret assignment, a special flight. There had to be more to it than he appropriated a plane and I want to know what. I want to know the truth. I want you to admit the truth.”

  He stared at her. “I would tell you if I knew more. Do you think I like knowing your father was a thief? Especially after years of service with my family? What else might he have stolen? What other harm might he have done?”

  “None. He was not like that. He loved working here. We often spoke about his finding his ideal job. He planned to show me the country, introduce me to his friends. He went on some secret mission for your father. If you don’t know what it is, come with me to find out what it was.”

  “Come with you where?”

  “Quraim Wadi Samil. Isn’t that where the answers lie?”

  “There are no answers.”

  “Only questions? Like why people think he is a thief? I need to find out what happened to him.”

  “Everyone wants something—Khalid was right. I thought we had something developing between us. But you only see me as a way to prove the unprovable.”

  “We might have something growing between us. Just because the reasons I agreed to stay haven’t changed doesn’t mean my feelings aren’t genuine or aren’t involved. I…love you, Rashid.”

  “No!”

  “If I do?”

  “Impossible.” He glared at her. “Please give me some credit. Women say words like that hoping to bend men to their will.”

  “We’re talking two different things here, Rashid. First I want to prove to you my dad is not what you think. And second, why wouldn’t I fall for someone like you? You’re—”

  “Enough! We have an agreement, nothing beyond the charade until the negotiations are complete and the contract signed. What do you hope…that I’ll fall for you? Maybe see you as my wife? I would not dishonor my family by marrying a woman whose father was a thief. Who caused the death of my father.”

  Rashid resumed walking, at a quicker pace. He clamped down on his emotions. Khalid had been right; he should have sent her back the first day. How dare she say she loved him? He knew better—he was a means to an end. Find out about her father. Hadn�
��t they tried that three years ago? The sooner he got her to the villa, the sooner he could be rid of her.

  Except for the flight to Morocco, he thought. Should he consider using another pilot?

  “Wait.” She hurried to catch up. “Rashid, this doesn’t change anything.”

  “It changes everything. Here’s my car. Get in.”

  Ignoring his manners, he strode to the driver’s side and got in just as she jumped in the passenger’s side.

  Starting the engine, he pulled away from the curb at a pace faster than safe. For a moment anger ruled. Then he deliberately slowed down. He would not take his anger out on others.

  How dare she suggest she was in love with him? They had not known each other long enough for emotions to grow. It was a ploy, just as Khalid suggested. He was furious for letting his own emotions grow concerning her. He’d been so confident he could enjoy her company and then say farewell. She turned out to be like all others.

  “What did Hampstead tell you?” he bit out.

  “That the last time he saw Hank, my dad spoke about a secret mission. Walt thought he was pumped up about it, like a thriller or something. He wouldn’t tell Walt any more than that. But Walt thought it more a lark than a dangerous mission. He was obviously wrong since it seems likely my dad ended up dead. The man at the derrick said Hank’s buried in Quraim Wadi Samil. It would be worth checking out. Did you question him?”

  “My assistant is handling that.” And it sounded like Rashid needed to make sure it was done immediately. “The reason he was pumped up was probably considering stealing a multimillion-dollar jet plane.”

  Bethanne refused to respond.

  Rashid stopped in front of the villa a short time later. She scurried out of the car before he could come around to her door. Running up the shallow steps, she turned and looked at him. “I shall leave the villa, of course. I understand you wouldn’t want me here. I’ll call a taxi to take me to a hotel.”

  “Stay here until we leave.”

  “We?” she asked.

  “I still need to fly to Morocco tomorrow.”