ROMANCE: THE SHEIKH'S GAMES: A Sheikh Romance

by Knight, Kylie

  The call ended, and Miles sprinted from the warehouse. The cop in his earpiece tried to talk to him, but Miles dug the piece of technology from his ear and threw it away. As he hopped onto his bike, a few cops came out of the woodwork to try and stop him.

  The motorcycle roared to life with a ferocity like what he was feeling inside, and the tire smoked as he peeled out. Like a bat out of hell, Miles weaved through traffic toward the address Boss had given him. There were no cops to pursue him.

  The address was an empty office building. When Miles pulled up, two guys with guns grabbed him.

  “Any cops?”

  “Do you see any?”

  They sneered at him, but pushed him into the office. There he found Boss, four other armed guys, and Saundra tied and gagged on a chair.

  “Saundra, I’m so sorry.”

  “Thanks for coming,” Boss said, smiling, looking as casually satisfied as a cat with a mouse. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I’ve asked you here today. You see, we’re downsizing. I appreciate your years of service, but I’m afraid we’re going to have to let you go.”

  “Let her go,” Miles said. “You have me, okay? Just let her go.”

  “Oh, buddy, no. That’s not how this works. You both know far too much. I have to kill you both. But remember, this is all your fault. If you’d just done what you were told instead of trying to get clever…”

  Boss came around behind Saundra and placed his hands on her shoulders.

  “Will you let me say goodbye, at least?” Miles asked desperately.

  “Here she is,” Boss said softly beside her and held up a pistol. “You’ve got ten seconds.”

  “Saundra,” Miles said, taking a step forward, but one of the men grabbed him and held him back. “I’m so sorry…”

  His eyes flickered around him, making note of where everyone stood.

  “… if this doesn’t work.”

  Bringing his elbow up, he broke the nose of the man holding him. The others immediately turned their guns to him, but he spun and put the man between him and the shots fired.

  Saundra screamed through her gag as she slammed her head into Boss’s face and then threw herself – the chair included – into the man closest to her.

  Miles grabbed the gun out of the dead man’s hand, shot the man beside him, then fired at the two farthest away from Saundra, so that he didn’t risk a shot going wide and shooting her as well.

  A white hot rod of metal punched through Miles’ gut, followed by another, then another. The pain was blinding. Dropping the gun, he fell to the ground. His entire world was awash in agony.

  There were screams, more gunshots, and then black boots raced past him. A force not of his own rolled him over, sending electric pain through his whole body. His head rested in Saundra’s lap, and she looked down at him with blood sprayed across her face.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said.

  “No, Miles, stay with me,” she said, stroking the side of his face.

  “I loved you,” he said, blackness claiming the edges of his vision. “I’ll always love you.”

  “I love you too,” she said before starting to sob. “Please don’t leave me.”

  “I’m sorry,” was all he could think to say before the blackness claimed him entirely.

  Saundra walked, bleary-eyed through the hospital hallway. The floor was almost entirely empty that late at night. The bag in her hand crinkled as she walked, the sound echoing against the neutral white walls. The smell of cleaning chemicals blocked out nearly all others.

  She was so drained, she almost couldn’t feel anything at all anymore. As she walked by an open doorway, she glanced inside to see an older gentlemen with some family sitting around him. It didn’t look good. She quirked her mouth in a slight frown, but couldn’t muster more than that. She just didn’t have anything left.

  When she reached the door, she pushed against it with her hip and backed into the room. Miles looked over from his bed.

  “What’re you doing here?” he asked her, and smiled.

  She climbed onto the bed with him, careful of his IVs and snuggled against him. “I missed you.”

  He put an arm around her, groaning softly, and nuzzled his head against her. “I missed you too. It’s so late.”

  “Be nice to me,” she said, and lifted the bag she’d been carrying. “I brought frozen yogurt.”

  “Oh, yummy. You win.”

  She gave him a kiss and sat up, pulling the tray around in front of him.

  “Glad to see you’re putting the reward money to good use,” he said, and groaned as he sat up.

  “Be careful, will you?” she scolded and hit him with a spoon. “You were shot three times, stop moving.” She handed him the white Styrofoam cup and a pink spork. “The results came back, by the way. Negative. The kid isn’t yours. They’re throwing out the whole child support case against you.”

  Miles sighed and lolled his head to the side as though he died again. Watching him go limp sent a shock of terror through her again as she remembered when he’d done that in her arms. It took the paramedics working through the whole way to the hospital just to keep him alive. Through some miracles of modern medicine, they were able to pull out the bullets and keep him alive.

  “That’s a relief like no other,” he said.

  “Mhm,” she said, pushing aside the residual fear. “And I spoke with daddy, and the job offer still stands. I said you’d think about it.” Saundra fixed him with a very firm and pointed glare.

  Miles smiled at her and licked his spork. “Tell him I accept, and I’m grateful for the opportunity.”

  “Good answer,” she said cheerfully.

  They grinned at one another and clacked the necks of their sporks together and continued eating in a peaceful silence.

  “Saundra?” Miles asked, setting down the frozen yogurt.

  “Hmm?” She put hers down and folded her hands in her lap to give him her undivided, but he took up her hands in his and held them as firmly as he was able, considering his wounds.

  “Will you marry me?”

  “Miles,” she breathed. “The medication must be really heavy.” She made a show of checking his IV.

  Miles laughed and nudged her with his knee. “I’m serious. You were with me through everything. No matter what, you’ve stood by my side. Let me make it worth it. Let me make you happy every day for the rest of our lives.”

  Saundra leaned forward and kissed him. “Of course yes.”

  He grinned and kissed her again. She leaned back and picked up her frozen yogurt again. “Now eat before it melts, dammit.”

  He grinned and they did just that.

  THE END

  The Billionaire’s Assistant

  Tallah walked casually through her home, her heels clacking against her hardwood floors with each step. It was a satisfying sound and filled her with confidence. She had plenty of time before her first shift started as the new executive assistance to one of the richest billionaires in the city. There was no need to rush through her morning.

  She stood straight and proud in her kitchen as she watched her coffee brew. The black dress she had on accented against her deep mocha skin perfectly. Golden accents around the wrists and gold hoop earrings tied the outfit together perfectly. It wasn’t too much for an office, but let people know she was there to get shit done.

  This was a major career move for her, and as cool and collected as she looked on the outside, inside she was burning with excitement. Just a year under his employ would open a hundred new doors for her. For the first time in her life, she was going to get out from under the thumb of doing barely enough to survive, and would actually reach the heights of living. It’s like that quote, “Money can’t buy happiness, but it can make you awfully comfortable while you’re being miserable.” She was finally going to get comfortable in her life.

  Once the coffee was ready, Tallah took her time sipping its warmth and absorbing the calm moment. She’d need it to get her thro
ugh the day. It was these little episodes of time frozen in her mind that got her through. When she was younger she had to deal with some heavy anxiety, but these calming exercises proved to be lifesavers.

  When she finished, she hopped into her car and drove to her new job. Even with all of the leisure and taking her time doing things, she still arrived twenty minutes early. A woman from HR was there to meet her and let her into the building. A quick trip to the HR office got her a temporary badge and keys to Mr. Gilmore’s office as normally she’ll be arriving before him and will need access. Her official badge with her picture on it would arrive in the mail in a few days.

  In the elevator on the ride up to his office, and where she’d be working, Tallah felt her heart begin to beat faster and faster in her chest. As they rose through the levels, her excitement rose with it. She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing. In her mind, she relived the experience with her coffee, sipping slowly, enjoying the warmth and the calmness of her kitchen. In a few moments she was calm again, and when the elevator dinged that it had reached her floor, she opened her long eyelashes and looked out at the office.

  The reception area was impressive, like the lounge in one of those old style gentlemen clubs where old-timers sat around drinking brandy, smoking cigars, and talking about long dead philosophers. Leather couches and lounge chairs sat in strategically positioned placements throughout so that groups of visitors could sit near one another and talk. Tallah had never seen anything like it in her life. Would people coming to see Mr. Gilmore want to speak with one another?

  The HR woman led her through the reception area and pointed out Tallah’s desk. “This is where you’ll be working most of the time. There is an intercom and integrated phone system. You’ll be taking Mr. Gilmore’s calls and transferring them where needed. The intercom system is tied directly from this phone to the phone in his office. It’s a private line and not connected to the rest of the phone system. Mr. Gilmore values discretion in all of his business dealings.”

  “I understand,” Tallah said, though she didn’t understand at all. How was an intercom system going to help that?

  Before she could think to ask, she was guided through to Mr. Gilmore’s actual office. The space was huge, and the vastness of it took her breath away. The ceiling must’ve been at least two extra stories tall. Floor to ceiling windows replaced all walls, the early morning sun steaming in from the east.

  There, with his back to the door, stood Justin Gilmore looking out the window at the city below. Just looking at him made Tallah feel richer. Without even looking in their direction, Tallah could feel the confidence in him, the power. This was a self-made man, and it was impossible to not be impressed by that.

  “Mr. Gilmore, your new assistant has arrived.”

  He turned around and she saw him for the first time. Tallah’s heart stopped for just a blink, and she forgot to breathe. Sure she’d seen his pictures in the tabloids, the young hot rich man in the city, but to see his features in the flesh was something else altogether. A pronounced jaw was covered in a stylish layer of stubble. More than a 5 o’clock shadow but not quite a beard. Normally Tallah hated that look, but on him it was surprisingly power. Piercing blue eyes looked out from a deep, thoughtful brow. The gentle tan of his skin offset against his dirty blond hair well. His grey suit was clearly tailored just for him and fit as though he’d been born in it.

  In those beautiful blue eyes he wore a look of mild surprise. Had he really not noticed them enter? Then again, in a place as big as this, she couldn’t really be so surprised. Mr. Gilmore checked his watch.

  “So soon?” he asked. “Are you always so punctual?”

  “Yes sir,” Tallah said and stepped forward with her hand outstretched.

  Mr. Gilmore looked at her hand, cleared his throat, then looked back up to her. “Well, you’ve set the bar. Now let’s see if you can match it reliably.”

  Tallah curled her fingers nearly into a fist and pulled her hand back. All of the pleasantness of the meeting had churned into a horrible awkward pit in her stomach. “Yes, well, I think you’ll be pleased with my performance. I set the bar high for myself and I always—“

  “That’s wonderful. For now, let’s focus on the following.” With a pointed look to the HR woman he said, “I’m not to be disturbed before 8:30. For any reason.”

  She tried to make some excuse, but when he looked away from her and back to Tallah, the HR woman silenced herself.

  “My coffee,” he continued, now speaking directly to Talla, “is delivered to your desk at 8:55 every day. Your job is to be at your desk to receive it at that time. I do not care what else is going on in your day. You are at your desk to receive my coffee and bring it to me, here, on my desk. Immediately. Everything else can wait. Am I understood?”

  Tallah opened her mouth and made a sound that was mean to be “Yes” but was drowned out when he spoke over her.

  “My 9 o’clock is your next priority. I need all of my paperwork in preparation so that I can go over it. That you will email to me no later than 8:30. Paperwork for my 9 o’clock. Coffee. Should you have to choose between the two…”

  “Choose the coffee.”

  “Correct,” he said with a slight narrowing of the eyes. “Remember that and you’ll survive the day. The rest we’ll figure out as we go.”

  “I have a question, sir. You say to email you your paperwork no later than 8:30, but you had just finished saying not to disturb you until after 8:30.”

  “I didn’t hear a question in any of that.”

  Tallah took a breath through her nose in an attempt to squash her frustration. In all her life she’d never tolerated being spoken to in such a way, and she was having a real hard time dealing with it now.

  “Let me answer your lack of a question with a question,” he said during her period of self-calming. “How much noise does your email make?”

  The condescending tone was nearly enough to make her quit there on the spot. “Understood,” she managed in a strained tone.

  Checking his watch, he said, “It’s now 8:35. A poor start. Let’s see how your career looks by 9 o’clock.”

  The HR woman turned and walked from the room without a word.

  “I look forward to working together,” Tallah said with completely false professionalism.

  “I’m sure,” he said.

  As she turned and walked through the large, brightly lit office, she became filled with a deep sense of dread at her future here. She suddenly doubted she could make it a full year working under him.

  Justin sat at his desk after they’d left and released a long, slow breath. He placed his hands on his desk and watch them as they shook. His hands were actually shaking. The palms were sweaty even after he rubbed them on the front of his pant legs.

  Who was this woman? In all his life, he’d never been more aware of anyone. She woke something inside of him. It was a sensation he felt instantly, and had no idea how to translate it. Was this what it meant to be truly attracted to someone? With everything occupying his day to day, he let his HR departments handle all of the hiring. If a particular department needed input, that specific manager could do a follow-up. All Justin needed was an assistant. How hard of a position could that possibly be to fill? Paperwork, phone calls, coffee. He’d every intention of making it easy on whoever they did decide to hire.

  When he turned around and saw the most perfect representation of beauty and grace standing right in front of him, his options were to melt into a finely dressed puddle, or, well, respond aggressively. What other choice did he have? He couldn’t have flirted with her, certainly not in front of HR. Justin slapped himself across the face and laid his hands flat on the desk.

  Flirt? What was wrong with him? Even if HR isn’t there, he can’t flirt. He’s engaged, for God’s sakes! If he wasn’t careful and she realized how he felt, it could ruin his entire life. This was his assistant, and now that she was already hired, he couldn’t fire her unless she did somethin
g wrong.

  The only choice left to him was to continue to play the rude overbearing boss. Best case scenario, she quits and he never has to see her again. Which, admittedly, would be incredibly depressing, but out of sight out of mind. If she was gone, at least he’d be able to move on with his life. Worst case scenario, she stays, and hates him. A woman that stole his breath away would hate him. He’d never wanted anyone more in his life. The thought of her looking at him with disdain depressed him more than the thought of her walking out of his life forever. These were terrible thoughts. Justin squeezed his eyes closed and lowered his head. Seconds meeting this woman, and already he was running the emotional gamut. Not a good sign. Not a good sign at all.

  Suddenly his entire relationship with his fiancé was called into question in his mind. After years with this woman, was it all so easily washed away just because a pretty woman had walked into his office? No. No, of course not. He’d had pretty women come into his office before. Officials, delivery people, other people’s assistants. He’d been around plenty of beautiful women in his day. What was this? What was he going on about? He was acting like he was back in college. Justin straightened himself up from his chair and smoothed the wrinkles out of the front.

  This was ridiculous. He needed to pull himself together. His office door opened, and she walked in again holding his coffee. Damn that coffee. He made a point of facing his computer while watching her walk out of the corner of his eye. The sway of her hips, the expert placement of one foot in front of the other. This woman was grace.