by C. J. Miller
Saafir’s shoulder was throbbing by the end of the day. He’d refused to take pain medication that morning. While Frederick was watching everything and keeping meticulous notes, Saafir wanted to be clear-headed. At least, as clear-headed as he could be with Sarah close.
When Owen called an end to the meeting, Frederick leaned over. “Your excellency, we have much to discuss.”
They exited the conference room and gathered in the room serving as their private office. Three of Saafir’s guards followed them. They had flown in the night before, after the attempt on Saafir’s life. With Adham requiring time to heal, though he’d refused to step away from his post completely, they needed additional support.
“What is going on between you and the American woman?” Frederick asked.
“Virginia Anderson?” Saafir asked.
“No. Sarah Parker,” Frederick said.
Even if Frederick hadn’t read the local papers, Saafir knew Frederick would pick up on the heated vibes between him and Sarah. “We have a personal relationship,” Saafir said.
Frederick did not appear pleased to have the news reports confirmed. “End it.”
Saafir had always liked Frederick’s no-nonsense, honest, straight-shooting approach to matters. In this case, he was overstepping his bounds. “My relationship with Sarah doesn’t concern you.”
“Have you forgotten about Alaina Faris? We need her father on our side. How will he feel when negotiations for the marriage of his daughter are called to question because you want an American in your bed?” Frederick asked.
He was aware of why they needed Alaina Faris. Saafir understood the rules and what rode along with his marriage to the daughter of an eminent leader in the Conservative party. “She and I are not engaged. Her father has not yet responded to my proposition. I have done nothing disloyal to her.” It felt strange to be questioned about his loyalty to a woman he had never met. This was his new life as the emir. Loyalty and commitment to a woman he didn’t know. Saafir stamped out his dismay. He was duty-bound to behave in a manner that was best for Qamsar.
“Gray area. Extremely gray area. We can’t risk her getting upset about your relationship with an American woman,” Frederick said.
“Alaina will not get upset about my relationship with Sarah. It has nothing to do with her,” Saafir said.
“I do not approve,” Frederick said. He wasn’t in a position to command the emir, but he had made his stance clear.
“So noted,” Saafir said. He didn’t need approval from his advisors for something that couldn’t last, but Saafir wondered if he was playing with fire by pursuing Sarah. Even if it would end badly, he couldn’t walk away. Sarah needed him and he couldn’t deny that something in him needed her.
* * *
Dr. Henry Verde, the committee’s environmentalist, and Thomas Nelson III, the committee’s financial specialist, were having drinks in the lobby bar of the hotel where Saafir was staying. Along with the other members of the trade agreement committee, they’d been displaced from their homes. Henry, or Hank, as he preferred to be called, had been amicable about it, but Thomas had complained endlessly at every opportunity throughout the day. He didn’t like being moved from his suburban Maryland mansion and the luxuries it provided.
Hank lifted a hand in greeting as Saafir approached, his guards on his heels. He was running late for his dinner plans with Sarah, having been caught in the meeting with Frederick strategizing their next step. Ignoring the two men would be rude even if Saafir was anxious to see Sarah. What would she be wearing? Saafir thought she’d wear something comfortable for her shoulder, but he found himself wishing for Sarah to wear an elegant dress with a plunging neckline.
“Gentlemen,” Saafir said, pushing aside thoughts of Sarah’s cleavage.
“I’m surprised to see you here,” Thomas said, a slight slur in his words.
“Oh?” Saafir asked.
“I figured you and Owen were bunking in someplace nicer,” Thomas said.
Hank’s eyes widened slightly as if shocked by Thomas’s words.
“We’re all in the same situation and following the same security protocol,” Saafir said. Though the hotel wasn’t the nicest he’d stayed in, it was safe, clean and comfortable. His guards had checked it out and had approved of the security—the lighting, the door locks and the front desk staff on shift around the clock. It lacked the opulence of the penthouse suite where he had stayed his first night in America, the suite where he had made love with Sarah. He had slept in far worse during his training in the Qamsarian military. A soft mattress was a luxury.
Thomas took a swig of his drink. “Same? Sure. That’s what I keep hearing.”
Saafir guessed the man had more to say, but Hank jumped in. “Making any progress on finding who’s behind the shooting?”
Though he had some leads that implicated Rabah Wasam, Saafir wasn’t allowing anyone to be privy to their investigation. “Nothing concrete yet.” When he had the evidence he needed to convict Wasam, the man would pay for his crimes. This time, his jail sentence would be lengthy.
“Too bad,” Hank said. He tossed some bills on the bar. “I need to get going. See you both tomorrow.”
Thomas made no attempt to get up from the bar. He signaled the bartender for another drink.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” Saafir said, and didn’t catch whatever Thomas mumbled under his breath in response.
When Saafir entered his room, dinner was waiting in take-out containers and the world news channel was tuned on the television. Keeping tabs on the news had become part of his life, but Saafir shut the television off. He wanted a couple of uninterrupted hours with Sarah. If he missed anything critical, he’d receive a report from Frederick.
Sadly, most events that were brought to his attention were negative, and that depressed him. His father had carried so much on his shoulders and yet he hadn’t shown signs of weariness or fatigue with his position. He had been strong and confident. His mother had been his father’s confidante. Saafir remembered them talking together in his father’s private study late at night.
His father had also had the necessary outlets for his frustrations and disappointments. He’d been an excellent swimmer and runner. To date, Saafir used every ounce of time and energy he had to get his hands around running his country. Political theory learned from his formal education fell short of real life. He had wide gaps in knowledge and big shoes to fill. Little time remained for hobbies or regular exercise outside the training exercises with Adham.
Adham was posted outside Sarah’s room and planned to escort her to Saafir’s suite when she was ready. A strong knock sounded on the door. Adham’s knock. His lead guard wasn’t happy about being assigned to watch over Sarah, but Adham was the one person Saafir could fully trust in America to look out for her safety. He was recovering from his injury and while Saafir knew he wasn’t at his best, Adham wouldn’t admit he was weaker while healing.
Saafir was nervous about seeing her, the same way he’d been as a young man the first time he’d talked to a girl he’d liked. “Come in,” Saafir said. Anticipation over seeing her singed his blood. It had been years since he’d felt this way about a woman.
Sarah entered first, with Adham behind her. Adham’s eyes swept the room, perhaps habituated to looking for a threat.
Sarah had changed from the black dress and heels she’d worn during their meeting into a cotton shirt and pants. She looked relaxed, like a cool glass of water on a hot day, and entirely too appealing.
He wanted to tell her how amazing she looked without coming on too strong. She was struggling with their relationship, worried she was crossing professional boundaries. When it came to Sarah, he didn’t want boundaries of any kind. How could he convince her she could have her work and him in her life? “Welcome, Sarah. Adham, thank you for escorting Sarah. Would
you like to join us for dinner?”
Adham declined, as Saafir expected he might. He would have loved for Sarah and Adham to get to know each other better. They had an unconventional relationship, but Adham was family and Saafir wished to relieve the aggravated tension between him and Sarah. While he and Adham ate together occasionally, Adham preferred to keep his distance and maintain boundaries when others were around.
“I’ll see you later then,” Saafir said. He and Sarah would be alone. He loved that. It was an unanticipated gift of another night with her.
Adham nodded and left the room. When his shift ended in a few hours, he was off for the remainder of the night. Saafir hoped he would use the time to rest. Adham had been quieter than usual and Saafir worried about the injury he had sustained in the shooting.
Sarah glanced around the room. “This room is larger than mine, although not as nice as the penthouse.”
The mention of the penthouse again brought steamy memories to mind. “Living in a hotel leaves much to be desired.” He had never liked living out of a suitcase regardless of how fancy the room that had the suitcase in it was.
“Something smells good. Did you cook?” she asked.
Saafir shook his head. “Even with the best tools and equipment, I wouldn’t risk poisoning us with my food. My mother tried to teach me and it was a skill that I did not master. When all I have is a microwave and hot plate, I’m even more useless in preparing a meal.”
“Darn,” she said. “I wanted to tell my friends that I finally managed to date a man who cooked.”
Date a man. Saafir was familiar with the American term, if not in practice, then in its definition. Is that how she viewed their interaction? It was better than how she had previously classified their relationship, as something that had been fleeting and was over.
“I didn’t mean to say date.” She swallowed. “I meant spend time with.”
They were both circling the characterization of their relationship.
Saafir sought to be clear about his feelings. “I’ve been watching you all day, counting the moments until we could be alone.”
“You are supposed to be paying attention to your meetings,” she said and smiled. She unbuttoned the top button of her blouse. Was she too warm or was she playing with him?
The blood drained from his head to his lower body. “How can I when you look like this?” He ran his hands down her arms, careful around her shoulder, and took her hands in his. “How is your arm?” He’d felt the bandage beneath her shirt.
“Better every hour,” she said.
“I will be exceedingly gentle with you,” he said, drawing her close.
Sarah tensed and Saafir worried he had hurt her.
“Tell me what you need,” he said.
Sarah pulled out of his arms. “I thought we were having dinner.”
Their text messages that day had been about arranging a meal. He’d hoped the subtext was a repeat of their first night together. At least sharing a meal with her meant they were together. “We can eat.” He’d let her set the pace. She would be in control. That might set her at ease.
Saafir opened the containers of food and did his best to create a presentable dinner around the small table in his room.
“I thought an emir would eat gourmet food every night,” Sarah said.
“There are a lot of misconceptions people have about being an emir,” Saafir said.
“Like what?” Sarah asked.
“I’d hate to spoil your view of me,” he said. Their relationship had been ignited around a romantic fantasy. Would she lose interest if he grounded their relationship in reality?
“Tell me what it’s like to run a country. This is probably the only time I’ll eat alone with a leader of a nation.”
“Long hours. Little vacation. Mediating problems. Watching everything I say.”
“Doesn’t sound like a jet-setting life filled with massages and amazing food.”
It had its perks. “When I’m home, the food is amazing.” If only he could be home more often.
“Nothing like a home-cooked meal,” Sarah said.
“I hope my choices tonight stand up against your catering selections,” Saafir said.
“Perhaps that’s why you’ve invited me here. To persuade me to arrange your meals around the clock?” Sarah lifted her brow.
Saafir laughed. “You figured me out. But you must know I invited you here because I enjoy your company.”
Sarah stopped filling her plate. “I enjoy your company, too.”
“But?” He’d heard the hitch at the end of her words.
“But I told you I wasn’t looking to get involved with someone, especially not when I know it will be complicated and problematic.” She brushed her brown hair away from her face. Her voice was soft.
“Every relationship has its problems,” Saafir said.
“This is the first relationship where someone has shot at me,” she said.
Boundaries and walls were flying up around her. If she hadn’t agreed to share a meal with him, he would have assumed she had no interest in seeing him again. Being here meant something. It meant she had reservations about them, but she wasn’t unaffected by their attraction. “I won’t coerce you.” He needed to make his intention clear. His position as emir sometimes led people to believe they could not say no to him.
She took a seat across from him. “I don’t want this to go to a bad place. What we had that one night was so good. It can only get worse from there.”
Someone had hurt her. Pain resonated in her voice. “I won’t hurt you and I don’t think our relationship will get worse. I think it has the potential to be great for both of us.”
Sarah set her fork on the table. “It’s better if we keep our relationship professional.” She echoed her sentiments from earlier.
Her hands were shaking slightly and unless he was misreading her, it wasn’t fear or anger. She was nervous. Her heart was at war with her brain.
“I don’t want to keep our relationship professional, but I will respect your feelings. Start by telling me how you feel,” he said.
“I think—”
He held up his hand. “Not what you think. Tell me what you feel.”
Sarah squirmed and set her hands in her lap. “I’m attracted to you. I can’t forget the night we spent together. It was, for lack of a more mature word, magic.”
He remained quiet. He wanted to hear everything she had to say.
“But what about my job? My business?”
Saafir circled the small table and knelt on the floor at her feet. He removed her shoes one at a time, flicking them over his shoulders. “Your work is yours, as mine is my own. We don’t need to bring either into this space.”
Sarah watched him as he rubbed the bottoms of her feet. “That feels good,” she said.
He moved higher to her calves and the backs of her knees. She let her head fall back and instantly he was reminded of her riding him with abandon. He took a deep breath to keep his libido under control and rose to his feet.
He took her mouth in a long, slow kiss. He sensed she was not ready for more and he didn’t push. It was an exercise in control, but he took his lead from Sarah.
* * *
By the time they returned their attention to their food, it had grown cold. Sarah didn’t seem to mind.
They ate on the couch with Sarah’s feet propped on his lap. Saafir loved the way she expressed herself. When she was relaxed, she was less guarded and conversation flowed. Everything about Sarah was both refined and comfortable. She told him about her life in the city and she had recommendations for places to eat and landmarks to see.
She skipped over revealing anything too personal. It was Saafir’s experience that people who were intensely private had something to h
ide. What was Sarah hiding?
He felt strongly about her and wanted to learn more about her. That she’d divulged almost nothing added to his curiosity. “Do you have any children?” Saafir asked. Though it might have come up as a security concern sooner, perhaps she had children who lived with their father.
“No.”
No elaboration? She didn’t say she wanted any or that she didn’t want any or that she had planned to have them, but something had happened to change her mind. Saafir trod carefully. “Have you been married before?”
Sarah froze, her fork halfway to her mouth. The walls he had worked to tear down began to rebuild around her.
He’d hit on the delicate part of her life she’d been shielding. He knew it immediately. A dozen emotions played across her face and Saafir tried to interpret them. Perhaps it had been a traumatic marriage. Abusive? Short-lived? Filled with fighting? He waited for her to answer verbally.
She set her fork down and looked at the floor. When she lifted her head, her eyes were filled with pain. “I was married. It ended recently. I mean, the divorce was finalized recently. Our marriage had been over for a long time.”
Her voice contained no bitterness, only sadness. “Do you want to tell me about him?”
Sarah shook her head. “I shouldn’t. I need to respect his privacy. He’s a troubled man.” She paused as though considering if she had already said too much. “Perhaps one day I can tell you more about him, but it’s difficult because I know he is hurting and there’s nothing I can do. I’ve tried everything.”
Her answer had made him more curious. What had happened to her ex-husband to leave such scars on her?
Saafir wanted to share something of himself with Sarah. To give her a piece of his life in exchange for what she had told him. She may feel better knowing she wasn’t the only one who had struck out in love. “I’ve never been married, although in my position, I will be soon.”
