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Sheikh's Unexpected Triplets

Page 19

by Sophia Lynn


  Danielle wavered.

  “In all fairness, that is exactly what I did as well,” she said hesitantly.

  “Yes,” said Faris, his eyes sharp and gleaming. “But you did it in Arabic, and you made dead sure that we could understand you. All except that last part, I suppose. I did not see that you had Swedish as well?”

  Danielle blushed, wishing she could hide behind her portfolio.

  “I do not,” she said, “but if you work with languages for very long, you will learn to pick up swears very quickly.”

  Faris’s blue eyes sparkled with amusement. It was almost enough to make her forget about how he had called her an elf. Almost. She firmly told her quickened heartbeat that it could simply slow right down again and straightened up in her chair.

  “That sounds like a wonderful talent,” he said warmly. “Now let’s see what you have to offer.”

  Taking a deep breath, Danielle pulled out her certifications and examples of her translation work over the years. She was finally back on familiar territory, and she knew very well that she did not have anything to be ashamed of. Her work was impeccable, and in general, it would speak for itself.

  After the initial discomfort of being insulted to test her prowess, the rest of the interview went surprisingly well. They were receptive to her explanations, and they seemed impressed by her work. She slowly became aware that the smaller man, Ahmed, was some kind of assistant to Faris.

  During a pause when they were looking over her credentials, she wondered what it was that Faris did. He carried himself like a great many of the CEOs that had hired Transglobal talent before, men who strode the world like giants and would never be satisfied with less when there was more to be had.

  It felt almost as if Faris could feel her watching him. He glanced up at her with a smile, and somehow, that smile warmed her all the way to her toes. Somehow, she had the feeling that whether she took the job or not, she was in some kind of trouble.

  *

  “No.”

  Faris glanced at his old friend, a slight smile on his face.

  “You sound like you disapprove,” he said, and Ahmed scowled.

  “She’s too young for you.”

  “I’m only six years older than she is. Her paperwork said she was twenty-four.”

  “She looks like she’s fresh out of school,” Ahmed retorted. “Also, a little like she is going to fall over from fright. Have you no common decency?”

  Faris stretched on the limo seat. Across from him, Ahmed glared.

  “Miss Jennings looks like a completely competent member to add to our team in Aswar,” he said. “She’s clever, very good at her work, and competent. Beyond that… well, that’s not your concern.”

  Ahmed rolled his eyes and opened his laptop to do some work on the trip back to the hotel, and Faris was left with his own thoughts.

  As much fun as it was to tease his friend, he had to admit there was some wisdom in what Ahmed had to say. Chasing pretty girls was fun—catching them was even better—but there was something different about this one.

  Danielle Jennings…

  On an impulse, he opened her file on his phone. This morning, she had been one of the recommended candidates offered up by Transglobal. In her shot, she looked nervous and unsmiling. Her hair, this time not covered by a headscarf, was pulled back tightly, giving her an out-of-date primness. Her gray eyes were so large that she looked perpetually startled. She looked like a nervous mouse, one that would faint if he said things too roughly.

  In person, though, it had been a different story. In person, she had reared up as if she could breathe fire, and she had chastised him in Arabic that was as good as his own. Those gray eyes that had looked so lifeless in the picture flashed with silver, and the blush that stained her cheeks gave her a passion that was never hinted at in her little photograph.

  It made him think of quiet little streams that led to raging rivers. It made him think of that mouth, so skilled at a number of languages, smiling, parting…

  He shook himself.

  Faris might not be willing to admit it out loud, but Ahmed was right. There were important days coming, and he needed to make sure that he kept his wits around him. It would be the height of foolishness to lose his head, however briefly, over a girl, and it would be even worse to distract someone who would be doing the work that the unexpected Miss Jennings would be doing.

  He let the idea go with only a pang of regret. After all, it wasn’t like there weren’t plenty of women he could meet with impunity. There was no reason to think twice about Danielle Jennings.

  Even as he told himself that, however, he thought of those silvery eyes, and a part of him wondered.

  Chapter Two

  The next few days progressed much as they usually did. Danielle came in to do her work, she chatted with the other people in the office, she bought her food from the markets, and at night, she returned to her tiny apartment, a carton of falafel carried up to serve as her evening meal.

  Ulf had calmed down, finally, even if he still muttered about rude men who were far too full of themselves. There were others in the office who had received the same treatment, and it was at lunch two days after her alarming interview that Danielle discovered two things.

  “They did calm down during the interview, though,” she supplied, nibbling at her watercress sandwich. There was an unexpected British teahouse setting up shop around the corner, and she had discovered a taste for the peppery greens paired with a mild cheese.

  “Interview?” Ulf asked. “You actually got an interview?”

  She blinked.

  “You know, after the smart remarks,” she said. “I told them what I thought of them, and then we sat down…”

  Anja was a short dark woman from Ukraine, and she shook her head.

  “I didn’t have an interview at all,” she admitted. “I got so upset that I could barely understand what they were saying, and I just left.”

  The others at the lunch table had similar stories, and at the end of it Danielle realized with some shock that she was the only one who had made it through the insults at all. She was relieved when her coworkers didn’t seem to notice that she had been singled out, but then the second revelation occurred.

  “Well, what do you expect from a man who has as much money as Sheikh Faris Abdul-Samad does?” Ulf grunted. “That man can demand as many interviews as he likes, and Melinda will hand them over. He’s richer than God.”

  The others agreed, and Danielle felt as if she were being pushed gently out to sea.

  “Excuse me?” she asked, her voice tight and high. “What do you mean, sheikh?”

  “Oh, you weren’t here for the general announcement, were you?” said Anja. “Melinda just gathered us all in the conference room and told us that we were going in for one-on-one interviews with the sheikh of Aswar. I guess it makes sense. Aswar is really making a name for itself on the international stage, and the need for translators was going to occur eventually…”

  “That was the sheikh of Aswar?” Danielle gasped. “The one with… um, all those actresses?”

  A South African translator that Danielle didn’t know particularly well smiled at her sympathetically.

  “Yeah, I know what you mean. I went in there, and I was so nervous that I nearly cried when he started ripping into me. Did you not know?”

  Now all eyes were on her, and Danielle ducked her head, staring at her small lunch nervously. It was like being back in the schoolroom again, expected to know something that she had never encountered before but that everyone else thought was simple.

  To her relief, the conversation drifted to other things, and she was left alone to eat her lunch. It wasn’t until she was safe back home in her tiny apartment that it had struck her that no one else had made it to an interview. Surely that couldn’t be right? That would mean that she had made the best impression out of all of the impressive translators at Transglobal, and that seemed incredibly unlikely.

  She tr
ied to put it out of her mind. After all, even if she was chosen, that meant just another file on her desk, another good job done for Transglobal and Melinda. It wasn’t as if she would be called on to speak with the man she now know to be the sheikh of Aswar.

  She found, though, at odd hours of the night, her mind would be filled with the vision of his blue eyes. She wondered whether he had some European ancestry, or whether it was a simple quirk of genetics that had given him eyes like that. It made her think of wild predators, ones that watched their prey patiently for hours before finally springing and striking.

  She told herself to put thoughts of the man’s eyes out of her mind, along with thoughts of his hands, his strength, and his mouth. There was no profit to her to think on those things. Danielle knew her limits, and the idea of a little mouse like herself dreaming up impossible dreams… well, it was an extraordinarily poor idea, that was all.

  Danielle had done such a good job of putting him out of her mind that she was utterly blindsided when Melinda called her into her office a few days after that lunchtime conversation.

  She was feeling good about herself that morning. She wore a long floral dress that swept down to her ankles, and over it she wore a light black cardigan that felt at once cozy and light enough for the Dubai heat. Her waist-length black hair was pulled back in its normal ponytail, and she had left the scarf off for once.

  “Yes, boss? You sent for me?”

  Melinda gave her a surprisingly serious look that made Danielle’s heart beat a little faster, and she gestured at the chair across her desk.

  “I did. Will you please sit down?”

  Biting her lip in trepidation, Danielle did as her employer asked. She was telling herself that there was nothing to be alarmed about, that she did a great job, but then she noticed her contract in front of Melinda.

  “Oh my God, is that my contract?” she exclaimed. “Are you going to fire me?”

  Melinda looked shocked at the thought, which was something of a comfort.

  “Fire you? Of course not, where would you get such an idea?”

  Before Danielle could answer, Melinda brushed it away with an impatient gesture.

  “No, you are not being fired, but there may be some changes coming up for you, provided they are ones that you want, of course.”

  “Changes? That I want?”

  Melinda permitted herself a soft smile.

  “Yes, good ones. So it looks like you were the only Transglobal translator who made any sort of dent on the sheikh and his friend while they were here.”

  Danielle’s eyes widened.

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really. As a matter of fact, they are interested in having you work for them, and I will say that while I am proud of the rate that I give to my translators, they leave me coughing in the dust.”

  Danielle was nerving herself up to ask what that rate might be, but Melinda was still talking.

  “Of course, the issue is is that they are asking for more than a Transglobal employee can offer.”

  “What?”

  “Well, we do stuff in-house. Everyone works from home or comes in here to take advantage of the office resources and the weird camaraderie. Sheikh Faris Abdul-Samad is looking for something a little different. Security being what it is, and his needs being what they are, he wants someone who will work with him in Aswar. It sounds like he’s looking for a translator at the palace.”

  It took Danielle a short while to find her voice.

  “Oh... so he can’t hire me, then?”

  The look Melinda shot her was fond, if a little impatient.

  “Why do you persist in shooting yourself in the foot before you even get out of the gate? No, the thing is that he can’t hire you through Transglobal. This is your contract with me. There is a severance fee, but he has already said that he would pay it, and the rate that he has offered you is… well, here, take a look.”

  Melinda slid a formal job description and proposed salary across the desk to her. Hesitantly, Danielle took it, and when she saw what was written there, her eyes widened. The amount of money there was twice what she was making at Transglobal and then some.

  Melinda chuckled.

  “Yes, I’d be sorry to lose you, but this decision is yours to make. If you do take it, you won’t be working with us, and you won’t have the protections we offer, but it looks like the sheikh’s got most things covered there. He’s offering room and board as well as pay, so you could go whenever you wanted, if you wanted to.”

  Danielle’s first impulse was that of course she would go. However, the thought that entered her mind wasn’t the new country to explore or the impressive amount of money in front of her. Instead, it was the fact that she would get to see him again. She silently shook herself and looked at Melinda, who had turned out to be more than a boss, but a friend and a mentor as well.

  “What would you do?” she asked, and Melinda grinned at her.

  “Honey, this is one bull I would take by the horns,” she drawled. “Opportunities like this don’t come along every day. Also… you do amazing work. The people here don’t really appreciate it, but I think the sheikh might. If I were you, I would take it.”

  Danielle bit her lip.

  “You’ve done so much for me…”

  The look Melinda gave her was fierce.

  “Danielle, I like to think that I am your friend, but I am also your employer. Just about every nice thing I have ever done for you is something good for me. If I were really doing my job, I’d say that you should stay and maybe the sheikh would still want to hire you through our office. I am not saying that. I am saying go.”

  Danielle felt her heart melt at that.

  “Oh… thank you… I mean…”

  “I really meant it. Go pack. The sheikh wants you with on a plane in the morning if you are going. I need to fax him your acceptance, and then I need to get movers for anything that you can’t fit in a suitcase.”

  Taking the hint, Danielle left her boss’s office, but despite Melinda’s advice, she didn’t immediately go to her apartment. Instead, she simply stood in the hall, feeling like a dazed gazelle. What was happening? It was occurring so fast. She wasn’t a Transglobal employee anymore. She worked for the sheikh of Aswar. She was going to Aswar, and she was going to be paid more money than she knew what to do with to do her job.

  She felt a stab of terror go through her, but accompanying it was a thrill as well. A new adventure was waiting for her, and suddenly, she knew she was ready.

  Chapter Three

  That feeling lasted right through the night, but in the morning, she felt a slightly queasy lurch as she realized that a car was being sent for her. Despite any protestations that she could take the bus or the taxi, the man on the other end of the line had told her that the sheikh had his preferences, and it was best to simply accommodate them.

  After all, she thought, this must be faster, and this will ensure that he can get me to the airport when he wants me there, I suppose…

  In the misty morning, just a little after dawn, she waited on the curb with her suitcase. The driver of a black luxury sedan looked surprised when it was her only bag, and she shrugged.

  “I like to travel light,” she said, and it was sort of true. A life of being tossed every which way had made her less inclined to pick up anything she did not strictly need. Today, she was dressed in the same black outfit that she had worn to her impromptu interview. It was comfortable, and she decided that even if it made her look slightly grandmotherly, it was her lucky outfit.

  When they got to the airport, she assumed that she would be given her ticket and told to get in line, but instead, the driver escorted her past the lines and into a surprisingly private lobby area, where she waited for just twenty minutes, confused as to what was going on.

  She heard the commotion before she saw it. When she peeked out the glass window in the door, she saw the sheikh surrounded by journalists, all with their smartphones pointed at him, all looki
ng for a comment. He said something to them that elicited a laugh from the crowd, and then he turned away from them decisively.

  He entered the lobby, and then before any of them could get any ideas about following him, he locked the door with a click, and the friendly smile he wore dropped from his face.

  He pulled the shade over the window in the door for good measure and then let out a long series of words that made Danielle blush.

  She must have made some kind of sound, because he glanced up at her.

  “Did you understand that?” he asked her in English, and she smiled a little at him, shy and nervous.

  “I did, but it’s definitely not something that I can repeat,” she said.

  “Ha, then you understood perfectly,” he said, shaking his head. “Journalists in Dubai... feh, they’re like jackals.”

  She thought he would drop into one of the surprisingly comfortable armchairs in the lobby, but instead, he looked at her expectantly.

  “Are you waiting for an invitation? Let’s go.”

  She blinked as he simply walked through the lobby, and with a brief gulp, she followed along behind him. Her documents were in a paper folder in her purse. She struggled to get them out, but when the final door opened, she was relieved she had failed because they had stepped right out onto the runway. The wind made her gasp, but then she braced herself and scurried after him. To her shock, he climbed up an individual staircase leading up to the door of an impressive jet, where a smiling woman in a sharp black uniform greeted them.

  Next to the beautiful woman who smiled so serenely at them, Danielle felt like a heap of black fabric, and she only muttered her thanks when the woman settled them into the plush seats. There were only eight standard seats on the plane, two rows of two seats on each side, facing each other over a beautiful carved table. Seated across from the sheikh, Danielle felt even more like a country mouse who was making a mess of herself. She struggled to put her papers in order, and at the same time, she felt the headscarf fall down over one side of her face.

 

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