The Sheikh's Unruly Lover (Almasi Sheikhs Book 2)

by Leslie North

  “Great.” Omar flashed a wide grin, determined to bring this meeting back to lighthearted territory. His primary function was to help navigate this deal to a successful conclusion. Launched by the American side of their newly merged companies initially, the Minarak office would play a pivotal role in securing the deal; Almasi was a crucial Middle Eastern liaison with the notoriously reluctant-to-negotiate oil technology company, National Oil.

  Kelly turned to Marian, his eyebrows forming a hard line. “Go grab me a whiskey, would you?”

  Her eyes narrowed to slits. “Do you really think—”

  “Allow me.” Alarm bells went off in Omar’s head—who did this guy think he was?—but he played it cool, signaling for a waitress. “I’ll ask the server, not my guest,” he added with a pointed look to Kelly.

  The flush in Marian’s cheek was unbearably cute, though he wished it came from better circumstances. Tension filled the air, and Omar cleared his throat when their waitress finally arrived.

  “Please bring us a round of waters, a whiskey for him.” He pointed at Kelly. “And anything else they might want.”

  “I’ll take any martini you have,” Marian said, sending the waitress a flat look. “Just make it strong.”

  Omar squashed a grin. How he wished this meet-up could be only the two of them. “Now, let’s get back to business.”

  The three of them—really mostly he and Kelly—chatted about the details of their upcoming itinerary. Tomorrow morning, they’d meet the CEO of the reclusive oil tech company. The three of them would sit in a meeting with the National Oil executives to review their respective proposals. Hopefully all would go well, and a deal could be brokered. They might be looking at a signing by the end of the third day.

  “I don’t know how they could turn us down,” Kelly muttered over his whiskey. “Only a goddamn idiot would reject this deal.”

  Marian’s brows lifted—the silent response system he’d been cataloguing all evening. She seemed familiar to him in a way he could scarcely articulate. She looked nothing like his late wife, Anahita, yet Marian possessed a warmth that reminded him only of Anahita.

  Omar tried not to think too much of his late wife. Her passing, after only six short months of an arranged marriage, had been too big of a blow. The cancer had moved swiftly, too swiftly for even the best doctors to intervene. And their marriage was now a cracked shell of a memory. Too quick to even document much beyond the wedding. Snippets of their life together haunted him. But the worst part was not knowing—what would have become of him and Anahita? What children had they missed out on? The love they found together in so short a time was mostly born of grief and rapid bonding…turning a stranger into an intimate lover in mere months.

  His heart squeezed in his chest, and he took a sip of his water. Why did Marian bring up these thoughts? He realized Kelly had been speaking, and he had no idea what he’d said.

  “I’m sorry?” Omar adjusted his watch, feigning interest.

  “I said I can’t expect too much from a company whose primary language is Arabic,” Kelly said more slowly, enunciating his words as if Omar might have suddenly gone deaf.

  “You can’t say that,” Marian hissed.

  “Why the hell not?” Kelly swung to look at her.

  “First of all, they speak Farsi. Second, it’s completely wrong. And finally, we are guests here,” she said, her voice low and threatening, like a mother scolding a child in public. “You need to act like it.”

  “The last person I need to take direction from is you,” he spat, downing his whiskey. He raised his hand, waving it in the air. “Waitress!”

  Omar pinched the bridge of his nose. Tomorrow would be very interesting. Perhaps a smidge entertaining, if this buffoonery was any indicator. Remember, treat him with respect. Even if he’s deplorable.

  “We expect good things of this meeting,” Omar said, measuring his words. “This company has shown interest in the idea of partnering with Almasi-Thomas, but the numbers conversation remains, of course.” He paused, tapping his fingers against the tabletop. “National Oil is very hesitant to meet with almost anyone. The fact that they have invited us to their headquarters is very promising.”

  “Damn well better be,” Kelly muttered, craning his neck to find the waitress. “Brought me all the way out to this godforsaken place.”

  Marian inhaled sharply. “Wow.”

  Omar felt the urge to interject, but Marian could handle it—he already sensed it. Yet another way she and Anahita were nothing alike. Anahita had been timid and quiet, almost to the point of irritating him. Marian’s boldness was a breath of fresh air.

  You need to stop comparing her to your dead wife.

  He blinked, realizing he’d drifted off again, missing their spat entirely. Marian glared at Kelly, who was ordering another whiskey.

  “I am so sorry for his…belligerence,” Marian said, snagging Omar’s gaze with wide, imploring eyes, exactly the color of honeyed chocolate.

  “I am not being belligerent,” Kelly huffed. “You’re too goddamn sensitive. Exactly why I told Bob I didn’t need him sending a woman with me on this trip.”

  Omar watched Kelly a moment, unsure if he’d heard him correctly. Marian’s jaw dropped, and she shook her head.

  “There’s no need for that—” Omar began.

  “You need a woman more than you can even possibly understand,” Marian spat. “You are a selfish brute and completely unaware of how big of an asshole you are.” She stood up from her seat, the chair nearly toppling behind her. She looked at Omar with fiery eyes, and he shrank back a bit.

  “I think I’ll have dinner in my room,” she said, offering a hand to Omar. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

  Omar took her hand and glanced between Marian and Kelly. It felt as if an explosive might detonate if they remained in the same room. Kelly snorted in derision, and Marian stomped off without another word, leaving her half-drunk martini behind.

  Omar shot to his feet and took off after her. The professional side of him advised him to let her go, but something else wanted her to stay.

  “Marian, wait.” He jogged across the brilliant tiles of the foyer as she stormed to the elevators. She didn’t seem to hear him, so he moved faster, reaching for her shoulder.

  She gasped and turned to him. “What?”

  “You shouldn’t have to leave.”

  Her plump lips turned into a frightening thin line. “I know. But my job here is to help broker this deal. I’ll be there tomorrow, but I won’t spend another second of my time around that pompous pig.”

  Marian brushed her curly hair behind her ear, revealing a pair of dangling earrings. Omar’s gaze fastened onto them, admiring the sheen of blue and silver. Butterflies. His belly twisted violently. Anahita had a flight of blue and silver butterflies tattooed across her left shoulder.

  His mouth parted, but he didn’t have words.

  “Just go back there and wine and dine the asshole,” she said finally. “It’s fine.”

  She turned to leave but he reached for her arm, stilling her again.

  “What?” she asked again. She looked at the end of her rope, and he couldn’t blame her.

  “I, uh…” He cleared his throat, forcing his gaze off her earrings. “I just wanted to say that I’d much rather be dining with you.”

  Marian grinned, that same rosy flush appearing in her cheek. “Yeah, well…It would be nice, wouldn’t it?” A moment of awkward silence passed, and then she started again. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

  Omar let her go this time, let himself be captivated by her petite, curvy figure as he watched her walk toward the elevators.

  She was the only one he wanted to have dinner with tonight. And for reasons that had nothing to do with business.

  3

  The next morning, Marian woke up early to get herself centered. She’d spent the majority of her first night in Minarak bitching to Annabelle about Kelly’s intolerable comments and gorging on
decadent hotel food, so today needed to be a clean slate.

  Today she was going to do her actual job, clean up the project, and get on her way to never seeing Kelly again.

  She reviewed the files she’d brought for the presentation, even though Kelly was in charge of handling it and would never let her get a word in edgewise. She’d come so prepared that she could actually do Kelly’s job. In fact, she would do it a million times better, given his inherent aversion to sensitivity and diplomacy.

  If she liked her job less she might have found the sinking ship of Kelly more entertaining. But really, it just stung. He was ruining their good name and burning bridges around the world. Annabelle was equally aghast at his behavior, but her only warning last night for the presentation was: be prepared to assert yourself.

  Her words rang in Marian’s ears as she buttoned up her ruffled shirt, tucking it into a plain, black skirt.

  Marian grabbed her sleek briefcase and purse, then headed downstairs to meet Omar and Kelly so they could carpool to National Oil’s headquarters for the meeting. At least with Omar here, she wouldn’t have to worry about the car departing without her. In the lobby, the two men waited by the front doors. Kelly already had a sour look on his face.

  “Good morning,” she said brightly, ignoring the pulse behind her eye that cynically awaited a snide comment from Kelly. As soon as Kelly opened his mouth to speak, she added, “I hope that whatever you’re about to say is kind.”

  Kelly watched her for a moment then turned away. “Let’s go.”

  Omar sent her a secret grin as they walked into the Minarak morning. Traffic hummed in the distance, beyond the stone walls surrounding the hotel property. The air was misty with city dew, casting a gauzy glow over everything. This would be a perfect day to get lost with Omar and see where we end up.

  “Did you sleep well?” Omar held the back door of the car open for her as she slid inside. Kelly quickly claimed the front seat.

  “I did. This hotel is lovely.” Marian waited as Omar came around to the other side, working on actively ignoring Kelly’s presence in the front seat. “I had a delicious, quiet meal in my room, without any irritating outside influences.”

  Omar’s grin widened as the driver shifted the car into gear. The ride to National Oil was pleasant and mostly quiet. Omar chatted a bit, but Kelly stayed silent, thankfully. By the time they pulled up to the boxy office building, seemingly made of black mirrors and steel reinforcement, Marian was hopeful that they could pull this deal off.

  Inside, a suited man led them to a large conference room. Twenty men—nearly identical in their dark suits—already sat around the table. Three empty chairs near the head of the table waited for them. Omar said something in Farsi to the group.

  “If the whole meeting will be in that language, we might as well call it off now,” Kelly said, adjusting his suit coat as he settled into his seat.

  Marian fought a groan. “Seriously, don’t start with this right now.”

  “Gentlemen,” Omar said in a clear voice. “Thank you all for having us here today. We are honored to be here to discuss a potential deal linking our merged companies with your oil technology.”

  Marian looked around the room as Omar spoke. Not a single woman. This must have been what Annabelle warned her about.

  Omar gave a quick introduction to the nature of their proposed deal—utilize National Oil’s machinery and systems to gain access to a coveted region for mining purposes, while offering them unlimited use of Almasi Holdings’ connections in return.

  “Our company is the best in America,” Kelly interjected, his puffy face looking more pompous than usual. “We’re an invaluable link, one only idiots would turn down.”

  A tense moment of silence settled over the table, and Marian sensed the need to intervene. One of the oil tech men began speaking at the same time she did, though, so she subsided.

  “We’re prepared to let you have use of our newest line of machines,” he said in slow, practiced English. He rattled off the model numbers, which Marian immediately recognized from her recent studies of machine reviews.

  “Excuse me,” she said quietly. When another man began speaking over her, she said again, “Excuse me, gentlemen, but those machines have consistently poor performances in all recent trials.”

  Several sets of dark eyes turned to her, and she looked to Kelly and Omar. Both of them avoided her gaze, so she went on. “Those machines would not be effective for our purposes,” she said, adding a few figures about the scope of the mining work Almasi-Thomas intended to do.

  Kelly chuckled a little, all but reaching out to pat her on the head. “Well, thanks for that.”

  Some of the oil tech men tittered. “Women always seem to have a response to everything, don’t they?”

  A ripple of laughter coursed through the room, and Marian’s neck heated up. Anger prickled through her, and she turned to Omar for help. He had to see the logic here. He was sane and rational, and handsome. Help me out here.

  “We should lock her up, like you guys do with your women.” Kelly waved his hand dismissively across the table, a sneer on his face. “Isn’t that right? They can barely leave the house without permission. Seems like it might work on this one.”

  A heavy silence thudded across the table, and Marian gaped at Kelly. Oh. My. God. Just when she thought he couldn’t get worse, he did. The man knew no limits.

  One of the oil tech men fired off something fast and angry in Farsi, to which Omar responded with a furrowed brow. A moment later, several men were shouting in Farsi, and the entire meeting had exploded before her eyes.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” she hissed at Kelly. “Did you seriously just say that?”

  “It was a joke,” he shot back. “Seems nobody can take one these days. Bunch of sensitive pussies everywhere I go.”

  Marian let her head drop into her hands. He wasn’t even worth it. He had a skull as thick as a glacier. And a brain that moved about as fast as one. A moment later, Omar stood, looking down at both of them with an intense gaze.

  “We have to go.” He nodded toward the door.

  He led them out of the conference room, leaving a thick wake of tension behind them. In the hallway, the air was cooler and twenty pairs of angry eyes weren’t boring into them. She turned to Omar, making her hands into fists so she wouldn’t start wringing them.

  “What the fuck just happened?”

  “They’re refusing to do further business with us until you apologize,” Omar said, staring pointedly at Kelly. “You crossed a line with them.”

  Kelly scoffed. “It was a joke!”

  “It doesn’t matter. You spoke poorly of their families and our culture.”

  “This is business,” Kelly said, his red-rimmed eyes narrowing to slits. “I don’t give a flying fuck what your women do in their spare time. That has nothing to do with this deal.”

  “But respect has everything to do with it,” Marian said, crossing her arms. “And you ruined the deal by disrespecting them.”

  “I’d say you did.” Kelly stepped closer to her, a sickening heat rolling off him. “You just couldn’t keep your goddamn mouth shut. You don’t tell the brokering firm that their equipment sucks. God knows what your real job is here, but according to me, it’s to stay quiet.”

  Marian opened her mouth to respond, but Omar stepped between them, raising a hand in the air.

  “Listen. This deal doesn’t move forward without a representative from each of our merged companies.” He looked between Marian and Kelly, his face drawn tight. Even when he was pissed and talking to them as if they were warring children, he was drop-dead gorgeous.

  “I’ll be the representative then.” Marian balled her fists, standing up straighter. Even at her tallest, she barely reached Kelly’s shoulders, let alone Omar’s. “I can do his job in my sleep.”

  “You’re insane,” Kelly said.

  “Well, you’re argumentative and impossible to work with,” Marian shot
back. “If we want the deal, either you have to apologize or I’ll do it.” After a second thought, she added, “And I’ll do the job you couldn’t.”

  Kelly laughed exaggeratedly, as if acting in a bad after-school movie. “That’s hilarious.”

  “We’ll have to take this to the CEOs,” Omar said after a moment, massaging his temple. “Come on.”

  He walked briskly down the hallway, leading them out of the building while he fiddled with his phone, presumably to call the driver. They hadn’t lasted fifteen minutes in this building before being essentially kicked out. Omar paced the lobby while he spoke with someone in anxious Farsi on the phone, his shiny leather shoes tapping softly as he walked.

  Was Omar on her side? He was hard to read. He clearly was miffed about Kelly’s inglorious stunt, but didn’t seem very excited by the idea that she take over. Though he probably didn’t have the executive function to just kick Kelly out and let her slide into his place. Still, it would have been nice to see more support from him. He’d barely looked at her in the meeting when she brought up the crucial point. If they got into a bad deal with piss-poor machinery, then what was the point?

  Marian stood far to the side, arms crossed. If she could avoid speaking another word to Kelly, she would. But for the life of her, she couldn’t imagine how he’d managed to snag—or keep—his job with an attitude like his. It was like he tried to sabotage himself at every turn. The business would be better off booting his ass to the curb.

  A moment later, the car arrived, and the three of them got inside in tense silence. The ride to Almasi Holdings didn’t feature even a murmur of conversation. Marian tapped out furious texts to Annabelle, updating her about the heinous happenings, to which her friend responded with pure “OMG”s and “WTF”s.

  At Almasi, Omar practically led the two of them up to the top floor by their ears. Marian had never felt so much like a kid in trouble. Here they were, going to meet the Parsian CEO, who would report back to the American CEO. It felt exactly like tattling, and someone was about to get a painful ass whooping.