Beauty and the Sheikh

chapter 6



Early the next morning, Rafiq stole a sidelong glance at Holly as they strode across the tarmac toward his private plane. Seeing her grim expression and shadows beneath her eyes, he could very well believe she did, indeed, hate him as she’d stated last night.

Well then, so be it. It wouldn’t kill Holly Winchester to suffer a little for her past transgressions, though it hardly could be considered suffering when she’d be given all the comforts and luxuries she was accustomed to.

And she could hate him all she wanted, but it didn’t change the fact that she wanted him. Her lips might tell lies, but her body did not.

When they reached the stairs to his plane, he gestured for her to walk on board first. She hesitated, glancing up and then swallowing hard. Did she resent being forced to accompany him to Monaco that much? He should hardly be surprised.

But she didn’t protest. Instead she gripped the handrail and strode up the stairs into the plane.

The move also gave Rafiq the opportunity to observe the sweet curves of her backside, neatly encased in a cream pencil skirt. Stiletto heels only showcased her long legs and her style of dress screamed sophistication and femininity, seeming far too mature for a woman so young.

His body stirred with desire but he tamped it down, refusing to let himself be ruled by his desire for her.

Once on the plane, he watched as she ignored the intimacy of the plush couch and instead sat down in one of the leather chairs at the table in the cabin. He took the comfortable chair beside her and was rewarded with a searing glance.

“There are plenty of places to sit,” she pointed out, fastening her seatbelt. “Are you sure you wouldn’t be more comfortable in another spot?”

His mouth twitched with amusement. “Quite sure. Besides, my guards prefer to sit near the front, and I’m looking forward to sharing an in-flight breakfast with you.”

The door to the cabin closed and the engines began to rev.

She closed her eyes. “I couldn’t possibly eat.”

The tension in her words made him glance closer at her. Her face had lost color and her knuckles were white from gripping the seat.

“You don’t like to fly?”

She didn’t answer as the plane began to taxi down the runway. Instead, it seemed she’d gone somewhere deep inside herself. Her body began to visibly tremble.

This was a woman who’d probably been no stranger to flying. Had likely flown all over the world for various photo shoots, and yet clearly she was absolutely terrified.

And then he remembered those words she’d murmured yesterday. They’d been in passing, but they held part of the key. Her parents had been killed in a plane crash.

Rafiq’s dark mood fled. Instinctively he reached out to pluck her clammy hand from the death grip on her seat, and he clasped it between his palms. “Just take slow breaths in, Holly.” He kept his tone gentle. “Try to relax and we will be in the air shortly. All right?”

She gave the barest of nods, but her fingers curled around his as if she found comfort in his touch.

Everything male within him thrilled in her response, though he knew it had nothing to do with him personally. Had she not been so immersed in her own fear, she likely would’ve pulled away. All too easily he could envision the disgust in her eyes, because he knew he was the last person Holly would turn to for comfort.

The plane lifted rapidly into the air, the force encouraging them back against the soft leather seats.

Would she be like this the entire flight? Or was it just during take-off? He hesitated to ask. Didn’t want to disturb whatever calm she’d managed to create for herself. That, and he was strangely reluctant to release her hand. There was such a feminine softness in the delicate fingers that gripped him and a protective urge, so unfamiliar he barely recognized it, swept through him.

Rafiq continued to murmur words of comfort while brushing her knuckles with his thumb.

The plane finally reached cruising altitude and one of his newer flight attendants came into the cabin. The woman avoided looking at him, and her expression held just a hint of fear.

It was subtle, but Rafiq had learned to pick up on the subtle. It didn’t bother him as much now; he’d almost become immune to it.

When she asked if they would be dining, his words were sharp as he ordered a light meal. She nodded and scurried off, leaving him alone once more with Holly.

He noted some of the tension had eased from her bunched shoulders. Her lips, which had been pressed tight, now eased into a slight frown.

“Are you better now?” he asked gently.



Holly managed another nod, stronger this time, and then opened her eyes. She couldn’t quite make herself look out the window at the ground so far below, and it seemed so much easier just to stare into Rafiq’s concerned face. There was reassurance there, and a comfort and strength she welcomed right now.

“A little better. Taking off is the hardest part for me,” she admitted raggedly.

She was momentarily distracted again at how different Rafiq looked in a suit, how utterly handsome he was. When he’d arrived outside her room earlier today she almost hadn’t recognized him immediately without his stark white robe.

He was compelling no matter what he wore, though. Whether it was the traditional style of his country or western attire.

Holly dropped her gaze from Rafiq’s almost hypnotically comforting stare and blinked in dismay as she noticed her fingers gripping his hand. “Oh, wow, I didn’t realize… I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

Rafiq gave a soft laugh of amusement and shook his head. “Not in the least, Holly.”

God, she hated that he’d seen her like this, so ridiculously panic stricken and debilitated. Flying put her at her absolute weakest. Most pathetic. And Rafiq had just been witness to her near anxiety attack and would likely see it many times in the next few months if he forced her to fly.

“Flying terrifies you.” It was not a question.

“Yes.” She made no attempt to deny it. It would have been silly to try, especially when she’d nearly ripped his hand off.

She didn’t want to look up at him and see the mockery she was sure would be in his eyes.

Averting her gaze, Holly attempted to pull her hand away and glanced up in surprise when he didn’t let her go. Instead, he smoothed his thumb over the back of her hand again, a gesture that had been slowly replacing her fear with a warm bubble of heat in her blood.

“There is no shame in having fears, Holly,” he said softly. “We all have them.”

Then again, maybe the mockery would’ve been better than pity.

“Maybe we do, but it doesn’t make them any less humiliating,” she muttered. “Flying terrifies me and always has since I lost my parents.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

He was helping by simply holding her hand and talking to her. Funny she found comfort in the one man she’d feared returning to face.

“No, it’s just something I’ve come to endure.”

“Even if you don’t need to?” Rafiq was quiet for a moment. “Holly, there is medication that can ease your anxiety—”

“No drugs. I refuse.” A chill swept through her and she closed her eyes.

“You prefer not to be drugged?”

“Or what can happen when you are.” She winced, realizing she shouldn’t have spoken that last bit aloud.

“What happened?”

She swallowed hard and attempted a light shrug. She didn’t want to confess the memory, but she wanted him to understand. “Before I started modeling I’d never even been on a plane. My parents couldn’t afford to take us many places and drove when they did. They so rarely flew, and they were only on the plane that night—a small island hopper—to celebrate their twenty-year anniversary in the San Juan Islands.”

“I’m so sorry.”

She gave a light shrug, acknowledging his soft words. “Anyway, the first time I got on a plane was from Portland to my agency in New York and I was a mess by the time we landed.”

Rafiq squeezed her hand lightly and she glanced up at him through her lashes. “Go on.”

She stared at him, saw no scorn or mockery, but an encouraging softness that seemed to pluck some of the fear burrowed down to the marrow of her bones. “My second flight was from New York to Paris with my manager and a group of people. One of the models on board offered me a pill, said it would help with my fear. She promised it would knock me out for the duration of the flight, and it did.” A self-deprecating smile twisted her mouth. “A little too well, because I woke up being groped by the designer whose clothes we were going to be modeling.”

Fury flashed in Rafiq’s gaze before it hardened. “Did anybody witness that assault? Did you report him?”

“No one saw since it happened so fast. He’d already been sitting beside me, pumping me up with compliments until I fell asleep.” She shook her head. “I tried to tell my manager, but she told me not to make waves, that I was brand new and couldn’t afford to lose this opportunity. She told me…I must have imagined it, if I caught her drift.”

The harsh words flowing from Rafiq’s lips were in Arabic, so Holly wasn’t quite sure what he was saying, but judging by his savage expression and tone, she guessed them to be curses.

Did it really upset him that much? The idea momentarily stunned her. Then again, it had upset her at the time until she’d realized it wasn’t all that uncommon in the industry. Many things that should’ve been appalling were actually quite commonplace.

“I’m sorry, Holly. That must have been terrifying for you.”

It had been, but even more so it was frustrating to realize her back was against the wall. Of course she could’ve reported it to the authorities, but it would have been her word against the designer, and her career would’ve been in the toilet. And she and Andrew had desperately needed the money.

Rafiq lifted her hand and pressed a soft kiss against the inside of her palm. “How old were you, habiba? When you started your modeling career?” he asked quietly.

“I’d just turned eighteen.” She’d been so young. And so pitifully naïve. “I was discovered in a mall at seventeen and they wanted me to start then, but my brother insisted I wait until I was legally an adult.”

“At least he had enough sense to make that stipulation.”

Holly bit back a sigh. Why did he have to destroy such a nice, sweet moment with a jab at her brother? “I know you don’t agree, but Andrew has always kept my interests foremost in his mind. He’s actually quite protective of me.”

“Not nearly enough.” His gaze darkened and his hand tightened around hers. “But then, perhaps our idea of being protective is different. Had you been on my plane that day, you never would’ve found yourself in such a terrible situation.”

The image floating through her mind had a bit more of the tension easing from her muscles and a smile sliding across her face. “How chivalrous. Sheikh Rafiq Hakimi, air chauffeur to the modeling world.”

Her heart tripped at his soft husky laugh and the way his eyes crinkled around the edges. He really was striking, especially when he laughed and smiled, which seemed so rare. It erased the more sinister impression his scar could leave.

“Chauffer to the beautiful models of the world, hmm?” He grimaced and traced a finger over the lines in her palm. “I don’t think I would have had the patience to deal with such high-maintenance women, Holly.”

Why was he still holding her hand? More so, why was she letting him? But there was no desire to pull away, not with the way everything had gone all warm and soft inside her. The way she felt like an invisible bond linked them together for the moment. There was no anger or accusations. It felt…it felt exactly like it had the first time they’d met, when she’d been so utterly charmed by him.

He seemed to be waiting for her reply. Knowing she couldn’t let that remark about high-maintenance models slide entirely, she gave him a reproachful look. Then she ruined it by laughing.

“They’re not all high-maintenance, Rafiq. A few of the most down-to-earth women I know work in the fashion industry.”

Some of the lightness faded from his demeanor and his expression again turned grim. “And some of the most vile men, it would seem as well.”

Yes. She couldn’t deny it. Her gaze shifted to the flight attendant, who’d returned carrying a tray of food, which she set on the table in front of them. Holly noted the other woman didn’t look at Rafiq, and her hands seemed to tremble as she set down the cups of tea.

Interesting. Her brows drew together and she watched with mild curiosity as the woman disappeared again. “I’m surprised you would hire someone who fears you.”

Rafiq gave an indifferent shrug. “Many people fear me.”

“But once they get to know you, surely they change their mind?”

His gaze turned hooded and he released her hand to dish them each up a small plate of food. “Is that what you would prefer to think?”

“I…I just assumed,” she trailed off. “I don’t think you’re as mean and scary as you’d like people to believe, Rafiq.”

He didn’t look away, just held her gaze. “Never assume, Holly. And whatever you’re thinking, you’re wrong. I’m not, and never will be, a ‘nice guy.’”

No, he probably wasn’t. Her stomach sank as she accepted the small plate of food he’d handed her. The light mood that had momentarily settled had once again disappeared, leaving a heaviness in its place.

“Your fear of flying seems to have momentarily subsided.”

Rafiq’s calm observation made her blink in dismay. He was right. Usually she was tense and nauseated the entire duration of a flight, but somehow Rafiq had managed to distract her enough to not focus on it. And even now that he’d reminded her where she was, there was no debilitating fear. Just the slight heaviness in her stomach, but that had more to do with his warning he wasn’t a nice guy.

“Eat,” he murmured and met her gaze. “You’ll need your energy for later.”

Holly lifted her fork, not fearing the flight nearly as much as what would happen once they were in Monaco.