by C. J. Miller
“Okay, forget about Alec for a minute. You have that outdoor wedding coming up. You’ll get some work from that,” Krista said. “You can pass out business cards.”
Sarah never promoted her business that way. She let the event speak for her. “The wedding is small potatoes compared to the work I’m getting with the trade summit.”
“Tell your new boyfriend about your money problems. He owns a country. Maybe he can help,” Krista said.
Sarah laughed. “You know I would never ask him to do that.”
Krista sighed dramatically. “But isn’t it nice for a second to pretend we’d all meet a handsome prince and get swept away?”
“Sure, but you just said it. A fantasy like that is just pretend.”
* * *
The police arrived a few hours later to ask Sarah some questions. They had pieced together most of the day’s events starting from around the time Sarah had arrived at the office building and began setting up for the meeting. She hadn’t noticed anyone strange lingering around the building. She hadn’t noticed any strange cars, either, but the office suites were in a busy section of town. Why would she have noticed a car?
She hadn’t been aware of the gunfire until she was covered by Saafir and his guard. She wasn’t part of a conspiracy to assassinate Saafir.
After repeating details as the police dug for an important clue she had left out, she started to feel like she was answering the questions on autopilot.
Sarah’s arm was heavy and throbbing. She wanted a break, to get some medication, get into the bathroom to shower or at least wash her face. If she pressed the button for the nurses, they might shoo the police from her room. Her finger stretched toward the call button.
Before she could press the button for help, Saafir entered the room. Flanked by three security guards—Sarah noticed that Adham was missing from the group—Saafir appeared regal and composed. He showed no signs of injury and nothing on his face gave away he was in pain. His PR team may have been right when they’d said he wasn’t injured. Though he had said nothing, the room fell silent. One of the police officers, a woman about ten years older than Sarah, was openly gaping at him.
Sarah echoed the sentiment. Saafir was something to look at. Naked, he was even more incredible.
“Do you mind giving us a couple of minutes alone?” Saafir asked, addressing the room at large. Since Sarah was confined to her bed and this was her room, she assumed he meant to speak to her in private. Excitement tickled her insides. He hadn’t forgotten about her. He was interested in talking to her. Though his interest might be rooted in this morning’s event, perhaps there was a personal aspect to it. Why did that make her feel special and wanted?
Her one-night stand was morphing into something more in her mind. She couldn’t help it. If he hadn’t shown up that morning or if she had never seen him again, she may have moved on. With him back in her life, how could she pretend she felt nothing for him? Her body was already betraying her, her skin aching for his touch, her breasts tightening beneath her thin hospital gown and heat pooling between her legs. His gaze plowed into her and she wondered if he could possibly know the direction her thoughts had taken.
The lead detective stepped forward. “Sir, this is a police investigation.”
“What’s your badge number?” Saafir asked.
The man straightened. “What?”
“Your badge number. I need to know who to report when I call the chief of police to discuss this matter,” Saafir said. He barely looked at the police officer. His attention seemed fixed on Sarah.
“But—”
“This is my investigation. I take a personal interest when someone tries to kill me and the people under my protection.” He looked Sarah up and down as if including her under that umbrella.
The glimmer of possessiveness in his eyes did crazy things to her stomach.
“Out. Now,” Saafir said.
The police officers did not argue further. They left the room with only their perturbed faces giving away how they felt. Saafir’s guards followed them out.
Sarah was immediately aware of several things. She wasn’t wearing a bra. She desperately needed a shower. Other concerns should be on her mind, like the person who had taken shots at her, but her physical appearance next to Saafir’s crisp and clean one made her feel like moldy green cheese in the deli display case.
Memories of the night they had spent together replayed through her mind. Every time she laid eyes on Saafir, she experienced a fresh wave of lust.
“How are you?” Saafir asked, taking a seat next to her bed. His voice was thick with concern, and many times softer than it had been moments before. He seemed to flinch slightly when he sat. “I’ve been worried about you. It took some coercing to find out where you were inside the hospital. American doctors and nurses are protective of their patients. I consider that good overall, but bad for my personal agenda.”
His personal agenda included her. Her skin prickled in awareness and her pulse beat erratically.
Aside from her friends, Sarah was accustomed to looking out for herself. It felt nice for someone to show interest in her. And the emir wasn’t just someone. He was a busy, important leader of his country with little free time and yet he was in her hospital room, talking to her as if she were most important in his life. “My arm is numb and I think whatever the doctors gave me is affecting my brain, too.” And Saafir was affecting her brain, making her feel overheated and tingly.
Saafir adjusted his chair, bringing them closer. Her temperature rose another few degrees. “Exhaustion and anesthesia will do that. I have to apologize for both of those conditions. Because of me, you didn’t get much sleep this weekend and because of me, you’re in this hospital.”
Blatantly speaking of the night they had spent together. Maybe getting it out would defuse some of the desire simmering inside her. They had already discussed they wouldn’t repeat the encounter, but alone in this room with him, even with her arm in pain, she was thinking about pulling him into bed with her. A hospital bed had interesting possibilities she hadn’t experienced before. “I don’t blame you for my injury.”
His dark eyes darted to her arm and back to her face. “Can I get you anything to make you more comfortable?”
If she wasn’t almost lying down, his question would have floored her. The leader of a country was offering to play nurse to her. Even if it was only for a few minutes, she was pleased.
If he wanted to pamper her, she’d let him. “It’s a little warm in here,” she said.
He immediately walked to the thermostat and adjusted it. With his back to her, she had a few minutes to take him in, from the broad expanse of his shoulders to the trimness of his hips and long length of his legs. She undeniably wanted this man.
“It will take a few minutes to cool down,” he said, turning to face her.
The room. Not her. When he was close, her body ran a dozen degrees too hot. She had to get her lust in check. Owen had agreed to keep her on the contract and not activate the termination clause. Her professional ethics had to stay in place or she risked losing this job. Her attraction to Saafir was an unexpected and unwanted complication, but she could handle it.
She shook off thoughts of having sex with Saafir again. She had drawn a clear line with him and she wouldn’t cross it just because her emotions were out of balance. He had saved her life. He was being kind. That didn’t change the circumstances. She turned the conversation to him, the client. Not lover, not sex god, not client with benefits, just client. “How are you?” she asked, expecting the party line that he was fine.
“I have some pain, but it’s manageable.”
His honesty surprised her. Owen had told her what was at risk if the public learned the emir wasn’t in peak condition. Telling her the truth implied a level of trust between them she wouldn’t have assumed was there.
“How’s Adham?” she asked, thinking of Molly’s quest to learn more about Saafir’s guard.
“Adham is in surgery. He suffered a gunshot wound to the abdomen that might have killed a lesser man. But Adham is a Qamsarian Warrior and he will be fine.”
Sarah heard compassion in his voice and worry below the surface. Sarah had read that Qamsarian Warriors prided themselves on indifference to pain and not allowing injuries to slow them down. Even so, it was clear that Saafir was concerned about his guard. “The police are trying to find who did this. I’m not sure how much help I was. After the shots, my memory is fuzzy.”
Saafir filled in the blanks she was missing: the driver being held at gunpoint by Nibal, Saafir killing him and their race to the hospital to stop her and Adham’s bleeding. “My guards and investigators from my country are looking into the incident. Nibal may have spoken with someone in the past several weeks who might have orchestrated this. I believe those responsible are members of a political party in Qamsar known as the Conservatives, or at least some far-leaning members of the group. Their leader, Rabah Wasam, has made some statements this morning to the press that imply he was involved.” He paused and Sarah wondered if he knew more about the story but was holding it back. “I wanted to speak to you directly, because I brought danger to you and because you were, and perhaps still are, a target.”
“Why would I be a target?” she asked.
Saafir set his hand on hers. “The public has linked us romantically.”
She couldn’t refute it. She had slept with him. Saying “it meant nothing” or “it was over” felt like a lie. “How do you want to handle it?” He must have more experience dealing with the media and the public. She would take her cues from him.
“I insist on providing you protection and security until the men responsible are found and held accountable,” Saafir said.
That wasn’t necessary. Sarah wondered if Saafir had come to her room out of a sense of obligation. For a moment, she had thought he had feelings for her, but Sarah was quick to reconsider. She was terrible at judging a person’s intentions. Her relationship history was marred with disasters. “Owen mentioned he was increasing security for everyone involved in the trade summit. You don’t need to provide anything for me.”
Saafir stiffened. “Again, I insist. You’ve been pushed into the spotlight because of me. The men who want to hurt me won’t stop with just me. They will try to hurt the people I care about.”
A wave of disorientation pounded over her. Again with the implication that he cared about her, but Sarah was reluctant to believe him. “If we don’t see each other again, eventually, people will realize there is nothing between us.” She was giving him an out. If he was acting on his sense of responsibility, he didn’t need to look out for her.
A grave expression crossed Saafir’s face. “The media has already named you as my mistress. If someone thinks they can hurt me by hurting you, they will. I will not allow you to be harmed again.”
When she thought about being close to Saafir, a strange mix of anxiety and desire crept over her. “We can make this decision another time.” Being near him felt too intense, as if every decision could have life-altering consequences.
Saafir shook his head. “I’ve already made the decision. I am taking responsibility for the hurt and damage I have brought into your life. I’m looking after you and the people I am working with in America. I am concerned about you.”
Even if he hadn’t implied interest in her as a lover, how could she say no to that? “It’s best if you talk to Owen. He’ll be making the arrangements.”
“I will do that directly.”
Wasn’t Saafir concerned that the assassins would return to take another shot at him? “Are you planning to return to Qamsar? Perhaps work through an intermediary?” Sarah asked.
Saafir shook his head and relief tumbled through her. She wasn’t sure how to handle him being so close, but she didn’t want him to leave. What she had with him didn’t feel over.
His face was determined. “I will work through these negotiations until they reach their conclusion. I will not bow to terrorists or political pressure by running home in fear.”
The people of Qamsar had Saafir under a microscope. He had to take his actions with that understanding. “Brave.”
He took her hand, looked at it and then at her face. “I am not brave. I am a servant to my people.” Saafir stood slowly and winced. He released her hand and pressed his hand over his arm. “Thank you for your time. I promised my nurses I wouldn’t be gone long. We’ll work something out. I can’t express how badly I feel that you were harmed.”
“Just a scratch,” she said.
Saafir touched her cheek with the back of his hand, the lightest of touches. For a moment, she forgot the aching in her shoulder, and the heat and kindness in his touch evoked an immediate emotional response. Tears sprang to her eyes and she blinked them back. How long had it been since someone had touched her with such affection and warmth?
“Are you in pain? Can I do something for you?” Saafir asked.
Sarah wiped at her eyes with her left hand. “I’m just overwhelmed and tired. I need a meal and a shower and a nap and then I’ll be fine.”
Saafir picked up the phone in her room. He asked to speak to someone and then gave the list of requests. “Food is on its way. Let me help you in the shower.”
“You can’t help me shower,” she said. If someone walked in, what would they think?
“Why not?”
He’d see her naked. He was the head of a country. He had better things to do with his time. “I can manage alone.”
“You need help. If you refuse my request, I will have a nurse assist you, but until you are feeling better, you must accept assistance.”
Saafir didn’t wait for her to argue the point. He helped her stand and led her to the bathroom. A small stool was in the shower. “Please sit. You may direct me in the manner you prefer.”
The list of possibilities was long and dirty. Direct him? He meant in the shower, but she could only think of asking for a repeat of Saturday night. “I haven’t been bathed since I was a baby,” she said.
“Then enjoy this,” he said. He removed his jacket and his shirt.
“Oh, my,” she said, impressed all over again.
He had a small bandage of his arm near his military tattoo.
“It’s a nick,” he said, noticing her looking at it.
“I wasn’t commenting on the injury. I was thinking about how you look shirtless.”
Saafir laughed. “You are good for my ego.”
As he was for hers. He could have asked someone to bathe her. He could have given the task to anyone else. But he was doing it himself, for her.
“Were you hit anywhere else?” Sarah asked.
“My leg. It’s not the worst injury I’ve had,” he said.
“Does this mean you’ll let me help you bathe?” she asked.
“If it means having you close, then yes,” he said.
He treated her with great care, helping her out of her gown, arranging towels around her shoulder and arm to keep her bandages dry. He didn’t stare at her naked body, but rather focused on his task.
He wet her hair and poured shampoo onto it. He seemed confused for a moment what to do. “I’ll need some direction.”
She lifted her hand and massaged the shampoo in. Then she lifted his hand to her head and he mimicked her actions. “That feels good, Saafir,” she said. Their hands slipped together and suddenly Sarah wanted to forget getting clean and keeping her professional ethics and get dirty with Saafir.
Saafir’s body tensed as if sensing how turned on she was. “Please ask your nurse when you will be healed enough to let me take you to bed.”
“I can’t ask someone that questi
on.”
“Why not?” he asked. He ran the showerhead across her body. As the water streamed over her, desire grew heavier. He hadn’t touched her and already she felt on the edge of exploding apart.
“Because I can’t talk to someone that way. Are you doing that on purpose?” she asked.
“Doing what?” he asked, innocent words with a hint of playfulness.
The water droplets titillated her skin. “You’re going to kill me,” she said.
“No, my goddess. I am planning to keep you very, very safe.”
Chapter 4
Saafir didn’t find it easy to concentrate on the meeting. Every time Sarah entered or left the room, he wanted to bolt and find a place where he could be alone with her. Though their relationship had taken a different turn from what he’d expected, he was on board for the ride with no intention of throwing the brakes.
His plans for her were fluid. His night with Sarah was turning into something more lasting. His visit to America was the last time he would be a single man and his romantic interest should be focused on Alaina, the woman who would become his wife. Even so, he couldn’t stop fantasizing about Sarah and spending another night with her as soon as she was well. She had gotten under his skin, and when he lay in bed at night, he was unable to think about anyone else. Her delicate features filled his mind and the memory of her soft laughter filled his ears. When he stroked himself to completion and thought of her, it left him wanting, his desire for her sharpening and beckoning to be sated with more than memories.
Despite his lurid thoughts of Sarah, Saafir forced himself to focus on the terms of the trade agreement.
Saafir wanted the agreement to be favorable to the people of Qamsar. He would walk away from the deal if his people didn’t net something more profitable from it than a place to sell their oil. The world was filled with places to market their oil. They needed a partnership.
The members of the committee were watching Saafir. They were curious about him, which was natural considering a ratified trade agreement hinged on his final word, among other things. He’d noticed some interested glances between him and Sarah, but he was careful to give nothing away. It seemed important to her that their relationship remain private and he’d honor her wishes. Involvement with him could impact her career, and he was pleased she took her job seriously. He respected a woman with a strong sense of pride in her accomplishments.
