Beauty and the Sheikh

chapter 9



Rafiq stood and pulled out a chair for her. “Welcome back.”

“Thank you.” Holly cast a quick glance at the empty seat and sat. “Mr. Olsen has disappeared?”

He took his seat again, unable to drag his gaze away from her. Holly’s hair fell in a shiny, chestnut curtain around her shoulders, ending just above the creamy swell of her breasts. Her makeup only emphasized her crystal blue eyes and full mouth.

“He’s stepped out for a moment and may or may not want to return.” He hoped for the latter. Reaching across the table, he caught her hand. “Have I told you tonight how beautiful you are?”

Her gaze lifted to his and pleasure flickered briefly in her eyes, then it was gone. “Thank you. I should be, after all the trouble you went through to have me made up.”

“It was no trouble, and you are beautiful without the makeup.” He smoothed his thumb over one manicured and shiny nail. “Without the polish and glamour. You are just as breathtaking in lounge pants and a ponytail.”

Her eyes widened and her lips twitched in amusement. “Have you seen me in lounge pants and a ponytail, Rafiq?”

“Once. The paparazzi snapped a photo of you retrieving your mail a few years back, I believe.”

She rolled her eyes and laughed. “Of course that would be the one you saw.”

“I saw most of them.”



Holly’s amusement faded and she slid her gaze back to Rafiq. Her heart did a little stumble at the lack of enmity there. She’d grown so accustomed to seeing it that to have it be absent and replaced with a gentle, yet open, unfiltered desire took her breath away. “Rafiq…”

“Sorry about that.” Byron Olsen slid back into his seat and folded his hands on the table. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long. Was anyone interested in dessert?”

Holly bit back a sigh as dessert was ordered and the two men resumed their business discussion.

She wasn’t even sure what she’d been about to say before Mr. Olsen had arrived again. An apology? An invitation? The answer settled with an inevitability that took her breath away.

She wanted to make love to Rafiq. Had wanted to for so long, but now it was like a mantra drumming in her heart.

As the evening continued, she found her gaze again and again flitting to Rafiq, focusing on the hard lines of his face, the dark intensity of his gaze as he discussed business. She didn’t hear his words though as images slipped through her head of what it would be like if she invited him to her bed tonight. Did she have the courage? Would she regret it afterward?

She reached for her wine glass the same moment a hand slid onto her knee. Knowing Rafiq was on the opposite side of her, it left only one person who could be touching her. A gasp of shock ripped from her throat and her hands jerked, knocking against her glass. The glass tipped, spreading wine everywhere, including her dress.

“I’m sorry.” She pushed her chair back and then stood up, relieved when Mr. Olsen’s hand slid off her.

What a pig.

Her hands were unsteady as she tried to blot the growing stain on her dress. “I’m so clumsy. God, I’m so sorry.”

Rafiq was beside her in a moment, handing her his napkin. “Holly, it’s all right.”

She glanced up, still in shock from the other man’s blatant advance, though she shouldn’t have been. Suddenly she became aware that half the restaurant had turned to watch the spectacle.

“I’ll just run to the washroom and clean up.” Trying to keep some composure, she turned and practically ran from the table.

In the bathroom she dabbed cold water against the stain, but it was hopeless. The dress was going to take some serious dry cleaning to fix.

Holly gripped the edge of the sink and stared into the mirror. She hated this—hated being back in a situation where she’d be exposed to self-entitled creeps like Byron Olsen.

Enough was enough for the night. She’d just go back to the table and tell Rafiq she was going to bed. Plead a headache if necessary.

She turned and opened the bathroom door—and then nearly ran into the man she was trying to avoid.

“I’m sorry I made you spill your drink, Miss Winchester.” A knowing smile spread over Byron’s face.

Had he followed her?

Holly’s gaze shot beyond him down the dim hall that led back to the restaurant. For a moment she was ready to bolt back into the bathroom, but there’d been no one in there and it was even more isolated. “If you’ll excuse me, Mr. Olsen, I’d like to return to the table.”

“Rafiq’s taking care of the check.” He stepped closer. “You can’t honestly believe he’ll keep you around long, doll. Everybody knows about your past with him. He’s screwing you for revenge at best.”

Wow, this night just got worse by the minute. Swallowing the frustration in her throat, Holly tried to push past him.

Byron blocked her path and stepped closer until her back was against the bathroom door. “Why don’t you just listen to what I have to say first?”

“Because I have a pretty good idea what you’re going to say, so no, I don’t think I will.”

“That’s the trouble with you pretty ones. Always trying to think.” His gaze was bright with lust as it swept over her body. “I know you must be accustomed to a certain lifestyle. And I can be the one to give it to you. When your little Sheikh friend tires of you, why don’t you give me a call and I’m sure we can come to some kind of arrangement.”

His hand slid to her hip and Holly snapped. She went to shove him away, but before her hands could connect he was jerked backward.

“You dare try to take what is mine, you fool?” Rafiq gripped him by the shoulder and shoved him forcefully against the wall.

Holly sagged against the door in relief even as the dark savagery on Rafiq’s face sent a chill through her.

“Sheikh Hakimi, I-I meant no disrespect.” Byron’s face drained of color as he struggled to loosen Rafiq’s grip on his suit.

“That’s twice you’ve said that now. You disrespect me by your presence alone. Leave here.” Rafiq thrust him aside. “And consider our business relationship terminated.”

Holly blinked in shock. Rafiq would destroy a business relationship over this?

The other man’s face drained of color. “You can’t do that. I’ve sunk millions into your casino!”

“I’ll send you a refund check. We no longer need your money.”

“Now, hold on just a minute. You can’t do this.”

“I asked you to leave. Get out of my face before I make you regret that you didn’t.”

Fear reflected in Byron’s eyes, before he shook his head and stumbled out of the hallway. “You’ll be hearing from my lawyers, you monstrous bastard.”

“I’m sure I will. They can have tea with mine,” Rafiq snarled, even though the other man likely couldn’t hear him anymore. Rafiq turned his attention to her and she flinched at the rage still on his face. A crowd had begun to gather at the end of the hall, talking to one another in whispers.

“Rafiq—”

“Upstairs to our room. Now,” he said tersely as he took her arm. “Before the paparazzi arrives. No doubt they’re already on their way, and another scandal is the last thing I need.”

She didn’t protest as he led her past the group of people and toward the elevator. A ball of dread gathered in her stomach, growing with each step they took toward the penthouse.

The elevator ride was made in silence, but his fury screamed volumes. Holly pressed her lips together and straightened her spine, trying to prepare for the verbal lashing he was sure to turn on her once they were safely inside their room.

It wasn’t her fault, and she would make him realize the truth if it was the last thing she did. Men like Byron Olsen were slimeballs—she hadn’t done one single thing to encourage him.

Holly stepped into the penthouse first and walked straight to the terrace as Rafiq shut the door firmly behind them. The wind swept her hair, blowing into her face the silky strands that had been tediously straightened by the patient and sweet women earlier today.

The sun had recently set and the sky was still stained with lovely shades of coral and pink. But she couldn’t enjoy the view because her muscles were wound taught as she waited for Rafiq to yell at her.

When the terrace door opened she cringed but stood tall and kept her chin raised.

His hand closed over her shoulder, fingers curling with enough strength to encourage her to turn around.

Despite her vow to be composed and strong, her voice broke. “It wasn’t my fault, Rafiq. I didn’t—”

He pulled her quickly against him, pressing her face gently against his shoulder as his arms closed around her. “I know, habiba.”

She blinked, the fight leaving her in a rush. “You do?”

His arms tightened around her and she thought for a moment she felt a small shudder slide through his body. He sighed and then pressed a kiss against her forehead. “I have no illusions that anyone but Byron Olsen is at fault. I always knew he was a bit of a scoundrel, but I never expected him to try something like this and I’m so damn sorry he went after you, Holly. I should have sent one of my guards to follow you.”

He wasn’t blaming her. It sank in and Holly blinked at the tears that suddenly blurred her vision. “I was in the restroom. I hardly required a guard.”

“Actually, being with me always makes you vulnerable for attack. I knew this, and yet I let you walk away alone.” He cursed softly and his arms tightened around her. “I take full responsibility. It won’t happen again.”

The hairs lifted on the back of her neck. Rafiq seemed to be taking this quite intensely, almost as if he felt personally responsible for her.

“From the moment we arrived at dinner, I sensed you did not care for his company.”

She allowed herself to lean completely into him, welcoming the comfort of his embrace. It was hard to think about why this moment seemed so important, but she knew something had significantly changed. For once, she wasn’t at the receiving end of Rafiq’s accusations. “No, I really didn’t care for him.”

“Have you met him before?”

She knew she shouldn’t have been surprised by Rafiq’s perceptiveness, but all the same she was. “Our paths crossed once at a party.”

“And did he try to force his advances on you then as well?”

Apparently the stiffening of her shoulders was all the answer he needed, because he made a soft growl in response.

“He was a bit too ‘friendly,’ was how I liked to think of it. But then, that was often the case.” She kept her head buried against his shoulder, didn’t want to see the reaction in his eyes as she continued. “When I was modeling, there were occasions when a group of us girls would be sent to high-profile parties where wealthy, influential men would be in attendance.”

He was silent for a moment. “And what was required of you at these parties?” There was no accusation in his tone, but she could sense the heaviness behind his words, as if he really didn’t want to hear the answer.

“Nothing overtly scandalous. We were just the pretty decorations, I suppose. We were supposed to flirt a bit. Nothing beyond that. Unless…”

“Unless?”

“Unless we wanted to, but of course that was off the clock and completely non-business related. Some of the girls saw it as a place to look for their next lover.” She winced, knowing how shallow it sounded. “Most didn’t. I certainly didn’t. It was simply another job for me.”

“And Byron Olsen pursued you at one such party?”

“Yes, but I made it clear I wasn’t interested. I wasn’t that kind of girl, Rafiq—you must believe me.”

Rafiq gave a heavy sigh and pushed her back gently. She felt his gaze on her. “I do believe you. Why did you not tell me, Holly? I would have canceled the dinner with him.”

“I didn’t realize who we were having dinner with until I arrived, and it would’ve been too late. Besides, he’s one of your business allies. I could never have done that to you.” She sighed. “I didn’t think he even remembered me.”

Until she’d felt his hand on her knee. The presumptuous, shady bastard.

“Ah, habiba, you are so young and naïve at times. I don’t think there is a man on earth who could forget you.”

The husky timbre in his tone had butterflies dancing in her stomach.

“I’m sorry, Holly.” He caught her hand and brushed his thumb across her knuckles. “I fear I’ve misjudged you.”

She lifted her head to look up at him, stunned by his words. His eyes were alight with regret, but also with need and tenderness. Her heart clenched in response and her throat grew tight.

“Perhaps I should pour you a drink?” He dragged his gaze away, as if he didn’t trust himself. “Some wine to settle your nerves?”

She didn’t want wine; she wanted to kiss him. The same powerful need that had hit her during dinner slammed into her again. The urge to not stop this time—instead of fighting Rafiq’s seduction, giving in to it.

Always it had been Rafiq claiming a kiss. Taking her mouth in a demonstration of power, or in a slow move of seduction. But this time, she wanted that power. It would be her choice.

Holly lifted her hands to cup his face. Rafiq flinched when her fingers grazed his scar, and he reached for her wrist as if to stop her. But then he lowered his hand back to his side and waited. Watched her.

“Thank you.” Her heart quickened as she lifted her head toward his. “For believing me, Rafiq.”

She closed her eyes and pressed her lips against his.

He didn’t kiss her back, and she was aware of the sudden tension coiling through his body. She heard the shift in his breathing.

Holly brushed her lips over his again, with enough pressure to part his. The warmth of his breath mingled with hers and every nerve ending on her body shot to life. She was poised on the brink of turning and running like mad, or taking the leap into the unknown.

She wanted the unknown, and she wanted it with Rafiq. Had always wanted it with him. She lifted her mouth from his just slightly. “Make love to me.”

Rafiq groaned, but made no move to pull her closer. “Holly, I shouldn’t. You must know how much I want to, but perhaps this isn’t the right time.”

If she’d had any doubts her decision was the right one, his hesitation erased them. How many times had he promised to bed her? That he would seduce her? And yet when she offered herself to him with no expectations, he hesitated.

She considered his words. Was she asking for all the wrong reasons? Would she wake up tomorrow and hate him once more?

Have you ever really hated him?

She looked past him, to where the night sky had started to appear and a few stars twinkled. The warm Monaco breeze slid over them like a silky intoxicating caress.

No. She’d never hated Rafiq, despite her protest otherwise. She hated the way he’d treated her at times and the assumptions he made, but he’d been right. The line between loathing and love was very thin, and sometimes she wasn’t quite sure which side she fell on. Though lately it was becoming clearer.

“We’ve spent so much time fighting.” She traced his mouth with trembling fingertips. “I’ve already waited two years for this night, Rafiq. Please don’t make me wait any longer.”