Teresa Southwick - To Catch a Sheikh

He looked a lot like his father, she noted. King Gamil was in his mid-fifties, but hardly looked a day over forty. It wouldn’t be hollow flattery to say he could be mistaken for an older brother to his sons—the dark, dangerous and devastating threesome. The king reminded her of a distinguished movie actor. And she couldn’t help wondering why he wasn’t married. Or Princess Farrah, either, for that matter.

“We would like to welcome you properly to our country,” he said.

The princess sipped from her crystal flute then added, “I expected Rafiq to extend the dinner invitation upon your arrival. When it became clear it had slipped his mind, I took steps to rectify the situation.”

Penny figured it had slipped his mind accidentally on purpose because he was afraid she’d dump something on his expensive Armani suit. Although their working relationship was progressing smoothly, she didn’t think she would live, in El Zafir or anywhere else on earth for that matter, long enough to live down the infamous coffee-spilling incident. A thousand years from now they would still talk about the klutzy American—she came, she saw, she spilled.

Just then Rafiq joined them. “Good evening, Penny,” he said, bowing slightly as his father had.

“Hi.” Her voice was slightly breathless, and she wished with all her heart she could blame it on descending the single flight of stairs.

“May I get you a glass of champagne?” he asked.

“Yes. Thank you. I’ve never tasted champagne before.” It was starting. She could feel it building—the urge to talk a mile a minute. Taking a deep breath, she looked up at him and said, “Fair warning—you might want to keep your distance.”

“And why would I want to do that?” he asked, the intensity of his gaze focused directly on her. “The day of your arrival was obviously not the first time you drank coffee, a fact that in no way spared my office carpet.”

“I suppose it was too much to hope you might have forgotten that.”

“As you have so perceptively pointed out—I listen and remember.” The corners of his mouth turned up. “So I’ll take my chances as you taste your first champagne.”

“My son has the heart of a lion,” the king said, his black eyes twinkling.

Rafiq grinned at his father, then motioned to one of the uniformed servers bearing a tray she’d wager was silver. Not silver plate, but the real McCoy that would tarnish without a gloved staff of thousands to keep it fingerprint free. She nudged her glasses more securely on her nose and took the offered crystal flute holding bubbling golden liquid.

She couldn’t help feeling like the governess in a Gothic romance novel. The kind of woman who should be stashed away upstairs on important social occasions.

“Rafiq, you have been remiss in not inviting Penny to dinner sooner,” the princess was saying. “It is—what is that American expression?—standard procedure for each new member of the business staff to join us, so that we can personally get to know everyone.”

“One big happy family,” Penny commented.

“Exactly,” the king said, smiling. “It has become obvious over the years that contented staff are more productive. Do you think me a tyrant, Miss Doyle?”

“On the contrary, Your Highness, it’s just plain, old-fashioned common sense.”

The princess touched her forearm. “Excuse us, my dear. Gamil and I must help Johara with Fariq’s twins.”

“They look fine to me,” the older man said.

Farrah glared at him. “Hana and Nuri are sweet children, but you know as well as I that they can easily become restless.”

The king saw her look and his eyes widened in comprehension as he nodded slightly. He bowed politely. “My sister is correct. Excuse us, please.”

Penny glanced at Rafiq and her nerves developed nerves. So much anxiety, so little time. At work she felt in her element and had grown accustomed to dealing with him as her boss. He gave her a task, she carried it out as efficiently as possible. He didn’t seem disappointed with her performance. In fact, she’d wager he wasn’t the type to keep it to himself if he was displeased.

The days had fallen into a pattern. In the morning she downloaded his e-mail and printed it out, placing it on his desk. Then, allowing for time zone differences, she returned phone calls with messages from the prince, typed letters and confirmed appointments. So far, afternoons were reserved for meetings. He was in and out of the office while she fielded more phone calls and took more messages.

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