Olivia covered her father’s hand with her own. “I know, Dad. But this is what I want, and I’m good at it.”
“Aye, that’s true enough. She won’t let you have things all your own way, Sheikh Khaled.”
Oliver was proud of his daughter; that much was obvious. He just didn’t understand her dreams. Khaled smiled ruefully because he knew exactly what that felt like. He remembered the long arguments he’d had with his father after his older brother’s death unexpectedly left Khaled heir to the throne. Eventually, father and son had reached a truce that allowed Khaled to remain in England, pursuing his studies, but he spent three months each year in Saqat, with his people. When his father decided the time was right, he would have to go home. It was his duty.
Her father retired early after dinner, leaving Khaled and Olivia on opposite sides of the huge, ancient dining table, talking idly and sipping aged, peat-smooth Scotch. She was surprised to see him drinking, but recalled hearing somewhere that many Muslims did drink alcohol in non-Arab countries, and in private.
“I can see that the MCI deal might seem like a conflict of interests for you,” Olivia said, “but I can assure you that we will do everything in our power to protect the marine life of the Saqat waters. I’ve been doing some thinking and I have a couple of ideas to run past you.”
“So have I.” His voice was soft and seductive and Olivia had to take a deep breath before she could reply.
“I read your thesis,” she began.
“Really? What on Earth for?”
“Believe it or not, I am interested in the long-term environmental impact of oil spills.”
“Touché.” He laughed. “So has it cured your insomnia?”
“I don’t have insomnia and I enjoyed it. Well, not exactly enjoyed, but it was very interesting.”
“Hmm.” He still sounded skeptical.
“And I’ve been thinking of ways that MCI Oil can work to minimize the risk of future spills.”
“Good.”
“I hoped you’d be pleased.”
“You’re changing your business practices to please me?”
“No,” she replied sharply. “No, I’m changing them because it’s the right thing to do. And because I want you to sign that contract, Sheikh Khaled.”
“Why?”
“It’s my job.”
“Of course.”
Olivia stared into the depths of her glass. Eventually, she added, “My father will be retiring soon. I will take his place as CEO of the company.”
“And you need this contract?”
“I need to persuade the rest of the board to support my appointment.”
“I see,” he replied drily. He laid a hand over one of hers. Olivia nearly jumped out of her seat at the warmth of his touch. He smiled gently. “Shall we leave the rest of this conversation for another time?”
“Why would we? Isn’t this what you’re here to talk about?”
“I’m here to see MCI Oil in practice. That means getting to know the people in charge, as well as seeing how the company works.”
“About that,” Olivia said. “You can’t just visit an oil rig. They aren’t tourist attractions. Everyone who visits has to have the proper safety training.”
“Do you?”
“Of course. It’s important for me to keep up to date so I can visit the rigs and make sure everything is in good order. And so that I can always go out if there is an emergency.”
Khaled looked impressed. “I can do the safety course.”
“It takes three days.”
“Fine.”
“Your bodyguards will need to do it too if they plan to accompany you onto the rig. There are no exceptions.”
“No problem. I expect they’ll enjoy it.”
“It’s physically demanding.”
He laughed. “Are you trying to put me off, Ms. McInnes? Because I assure you, if you have something to hide on your oil rigs, I will find it out.”
“Not at all,” she replied instantly. There was no way she was going to explain that her reluctance had nothing to do with the rigs and everything to do with the flustered way he made her feel. “Can I offer you another glass of whisky?”
“Please. It’s very good.”
“It’s from our local distillery.”
She poured him a generous measure. He took the glass and raised it to her in a toast. “Olivia.”
“Sheikh Khaled.”
“Just Khaled is fine.”
It felt too intimate. “Sheikh Khaled. So what did you want to know about me?”
He grinned at her. “I haven’t prepared a questionnaire.”
“Nevertheless, I’m sure you have a good idea what you’re hoping to find out. It would be much more efficient if you simply asked me.” And it might help to keep their conversation firmly on a business footing. “I don’t have anything to hide.”
“Now that is intriguing. Almost everyone has something they prefer to hide.”
She held out her hands. “Try me.”
“What’s your favorite color?”
Was he serious? “Why do you want to know that?”
“Why don’t you want to tell me?”