“My mistake. You are a true Scottish rose.” She blushed a delicate rose pink, as if to prove his point. He waited until she had turned away before grinning. Flirting with Olivia was going to be fun.
Blue and green tartan carpeted the floor of the drawing room, and above the mantelpiece a majestic stag head displayed its antlers proudly. Uncomfortable armchairs in faded dark red velvet were positioned at sufficient distance from each other to discourage any intimate conversation.
“Good afternoon, Your Highness.” A tall, slight man with graying hair rose to greet Khaled.
He smiled and took the proffered hand. “Good afternoon, Mr. McInnes.”
“Olivia, get a cup of tea for the sheikh.”
“Thank you. Milk but no sugar, please.”
He was ushered to the seat nearest the fireplace, though little warmth came in his direction. He gratefully accepted the cup and saucer Olivia offered him. English tea wasn’t his favorite drink, but it was hot, and right now that was all he needed.
“Thank you for coming to see me. I realize it was a risk sending Olivia to secure the deal with Saqat. Better to deal directly with the boss, eh?” Oliver winked at Khaled.
“Your daughter assured me she has full responsibility to negotiate the contract.” Khaled frowned.
“Yes, yes, but men understand each other better.”
Khaled set his teacup down carefully. “I have never had any difficulty understanding a woman.”
A muffled laugh came from Olivia’s direction. Her father huffed, but sensibly refrained from argument or explanation. “Nevertheless, I daresay that now you are here, we will be able to come to an arrangement.”
“Since I have begun the negotiations with your daughter, I prefer to continue to deal with her.”
Oliver laughed. “Think she’ll be a softer touch, eh? Well, I suppose I can’t deny that.”
Khaled turned to address Olivia directly. “I don’t think that at all.”
“The sheikh and I began discussing some possible amendments to the contract in London, Dad. I think it will be easiest if I continue to lead the negotiations for MCI.”
“What sort of amendments?” Oliver’s tone was sharp.
“I have particular concerns that need to be addressed before I could consider consenting to the agreement. Environmental concerns.”
Oliver waved a hand dismissively. “Global warming claptrap, I suppose.”
“Father,” Olivia said, warning him not to say more.
“Not at all,” Khaled said. “But I can see you don’t want to be bothered with it, Mr. McInnes.”
Oliver turned to his daughter. “You’ll see that it’s done properly, Olivia.”
“Yes, of course.”
“And you’ll let me know if it’s too much for you.”
“I can handle it. Is there anything you were particularly interested in finding out about, Sheikh Khaled?”
“I’d like to tour one of your oil rigs while I’m here.”
“There’s no need for that,” Oliver said.
“I’m a scientist. We like to see things in practice, not just read about them in theory.”
“Why did you become a scientist?” Olivia asked.
Khaled shot her a glance. Was she merely making polite conversation, or did she really want to know? “Why not?”
“You’re the heir to the throne of your country. You must have responsibilities there. And if not, you could be one of those playboy sheikhs living it up on expensive yachts with glamorous models. Isn’t that what most men in your position would be doing?”
“Olivia!”
Khaled put out a hand to calm the other man. “It’s a fair question, though I have no idea what most men in my position would be doing.”
“Are you going to answer the question?”
“I’m a scientist because I like it.” He shrugged. “My father was generous enough to let me do what I wanted with my time. I always loved the water and the life in it, so that’s what I chose to study. I remember the oil spill from the first Gulf War and the way no one seemed to really care about its long-term effects on the whole ecosystem. Once it was cleaned up on the surface, all the attention died away. So that’s what I decided to research. Why are you an oil executive?” He turned the question back on Olivia before she could probe any further.
She bristled. “Why shouldn’t a woman be an oil executive?”
“No reason. But that doesn’t explain why you became one.”
“I suppose not.” Olivia sipped her tea.
He waited, his gaze lazy but insistent.
She looked nervously at her father before she answered. “It’s the family business.”
“You could have chosen something else,” Oliver said.
Father and daughter had obviously had this conversation many times over the years.
“I didn’t want anything else.” A fierce light blazed in her eyes. “I don’t want anything else.”
There was tenderness in Oliver McInnes’s face as he looked at his daughter. “You don’t always have to choose the hard path, Olivia.”
“Because I’m a woman?”
He put his hand on her knee. “Because you’re my daughter.”