Chapter 6
“I’m claiming my dance,” Zahir whispered softly and his head lowered close to her ear.
Mandy turned, looking up at him as her heartrate accelerated. “Dance?” she whispered back.
Zahir took her hand, closing his fingers around hers. “Yes. You promised me earlier that you would save a dance for me.” He led her towards the other couples on the dance floor. “I won’t assume that you saved all of your dances for me, but you haven’t danced with anyone else tonight.”
She tugged on his hand, pulling him to a stop. Zahir noticed that she glanced nervously at the other dancers, then back to him.
“Is there a problem?” he asked, shifting to stand between her and the crowd, blocking the view of their conversation.
Mandy bit her lip, curling her free hand into a fist and pressing it against her chest. Finally, she looked up into his darkly intense gaze. “I don’t know how to dance, Your…” she stopped, clenched her jaw for a moment, then leaned forward to hiss, “I can’t use your name in public.” She looked around to ensure that no one was listening to their conversation. When she looked up at him, she continued, “It’s not palace protocol.”
Zahir ignored her and, tightening his grip around her fingers, continued to lead her onto the dance floor.
“Forget about palace protocol. I’m in charge and I want you to call me Zahir.”
She laughed and he felt the sound echo all the way to his groin.
“That’s rather arrogant of you, Your Highness,” she observed as he pulled her into his arms.
He didn’t care. “We’re dancing. You’re in my arms, Mandy. Say my name.”
“That’s not going to happen, Your Highness.” She glanced around and he suspected that the other candidates were glaring at her. “And you’re going to behave.”
“Says who?” he demanded, twirling her around so that she couldn’t see the other dancers.
“Says me. You can’t just throw your power around and issue orders.”
“I can’t?” he asked, watching her closely. Was this the clue that he’d been searching for? “Who else threw their power around, Mandy? Is this about your father’s passing?”
Her jaw dropped and he knew he’d hit on a significant question.
“You’re…just…we need to…”
He waited until she’d stopped. “Who hurt you with their power?” he asked, lowering his voice to a murmur. “I want a name.”
She lowered her eyes and, because she was wearing heels, she was able to stare at his chin.
“Who hurt you, Mandy?” he repeated, his voice deep and low, firm but gentle.
She lifted her eyes and he felt that now-familiar jolt. “I wasn’t hurt,” she finally replied. “I told you before that my father was killed by the callous policies of a corporation that valued company profits over employee safety.” Her chin firmed and he noticed she had to blink back tears. “My father was murdered during a construction accident that never should have happened.”
There was a long silence. Zahir wasn’t even aware of the music playing as he held her close. Yes, they were swaying, and yes, he knew that others were around them at the moment. But he didn’t give a damn about anyone other than the woman in his arms.
“Tell me more,” he urged, his hands tightening around her fingers and her waist. But other than those small movements, nothing else changed.
She sniffed and looked away, but he knew that she wasn’t aware of other guests at the moment.
“My father was the project manager on a construction site. He was one of the best managers for the Dillbrook Construction Company.” She breathed in, then slowly released the air from her lungs before she continued. “He always finished his construction projects on time and under budget. But one year, he took over one of the larger projects. He noticed that Dillbrook was cutting costs by purchasing inferior products. The rest, you know. There were fake invoices that were used to try to cover up the ‘accident’ and then after my father’s funeral, the executives from the construction company tried to pressure and terrorize me and my mother into silence when we started asking questions.”
Mandy swayed in Zahir’s arms, feeling secure and…warm. Goodness, she hadn’t realized how cold she’d been until this particular moment. The warmth flowing from his hands went straight through to her body and was like a warm blanket surrounding her. It was comfortable and reassuring. Which was strange. Before, Mandy had always felt wary of him whenever he’d been close. Ever since their first meeting, she’d felt…strangely anxious whenever he was nearby. So, why was this sensation so different all of a sudden?
He turned on the dance floor and, suddenly, they weren’t dancing any longer. Instead, he was leading her out of the ballroom. His bodyguards moved quickly, opening the door for them, then closing it behind them as soon as they were outside in the sweet-smelling courtyard.
“We’re alone now,” he murmured into the darkness. He tucked her hand onto his arm as he led her down the pathway that was lit by small lights tucked into the trees and along the pathway. The lighting wasn’t enough to disturb the feeling of being alone and secure. Zahir’s warmth as he led her down the stone pathway intensified the sensation of feeling…alive. And safe!
She stepped out of his arms, relieved that Zahir would give her a bit of breathing space. “What do you want to know?”
“I want to know what happened with your father.” He moved closer. “Does that have something to do with why you keep pulling away from me whenever I get too close?”
Mandy swallowed, not sure how to answer him.
“The truth, Mandy. I want to hear the truth from you.” He took her hand and kissed her fingertips. “Even if you don’t think I’ll like the answer, tell me anyway. Please?”
Mandy considered how much to tell him. Everything? How honest could she be with this powerful man?
“I need my fingers back if you want to hear the truth, Your Highness,” she finally replied.
He hesitated, then kissed her fingers again and released her hand. He even stepped back, giving her more space. “Tell me,” he urged, crossing his arms over his chest.
It took her a moment to get her eyes to stop ogling his arms and shoulders. Goodness, the man was built!
Turning away from him, she wrapped her arms around her waist, looking out at the darkness. “As I said, my father was a good project manager. He always came in under budget and ahead of schedule.” She turned back around, looking up at him. “Not just that, but he’d built up a team of workers that respected him, and he respected them too. They worked hard and he only chose the workers that took pride in their craft.” She inhaled, then slowly let the air flow out through her pursed lips. It was painful to remember. Plus, she’d suppressed the pain and anger for so long, she knew it was starting to create a bitter feeling deep within her. A therapist would say that the pain and anger were toxic and holding her back from truly thriving.
“The company he worked for bid on a bigger job than they normally took on. The company managers also under bid the job. My dad told them that it wasn’t possible to construct the proposed building with the suggested budget, but the managers promised that they would still use quality products if he would continue to work his magic and get the team working on the construction.”
“The company didn’t give him his normal team, did they?” he interjected, knowing where this story was heading.
“Nope,” she said, shaking her head. “From what I’ve was able to piece together, they brought in workers who didn’t really know the construction trade. In fact, I doubt that they were skilled in any way.” She pressed her lips together for a moment, then shrugged. “They might not have even been legal workers. But I don’t have evidence of either claim. However, my father had evidence that the materials that were shipped to the construction site were inferior. The unmatching invoices that I told you about proved that claim. The company ordered my father to use wood support beams when the construction code demanded steel. They used aluminum bolts instead of steel. He showed the managers of DillBrook that the materials shipped to the site weren’t right. But they said they’d send new supplies. Instead, someone went out to the site and dumped the aluminum bolts into a container labeled steel bolts.”
“Is that more supposition? Or did your father get evidence of that?”
Her mouth twisted into a grimace. “He had proof. My father always set up cameras to stop people from stealing after hours. There are a lot of people who drive up to a construction site during the night and load up their trucks with materials that are just lying around. That was another way my dad cut down on expenses. He didn’t let anyone steal from his sites.”
“He sounds like a smart man.”
“He was the best,” she said, her loyalty for her father shining through in the vehemence of her tone. “But DillBrook wanted to get out of the home building business and into the more profitable commercial building industry. So when my dad showed them proof that the supplies were subpar and not up to code, the DillBrook executives told him to just shut up and get the job done.”
“He didn’t shut up, did he?”
“Not a chance. My father went to the building inspector and showed him what was going on. The building inspector shut down the building site, then started inspecting Dillbrook’s other job sites.” She shook her head. “It was a mess for a long time.”
“Then what happened, Mandy?” he asked.
She was silent for a long moment, then sighed. “The executives asked to meet him at one of the sites,” she started, but her voice broke and it took her a moment to start talking again. “Unfortunately, he didn’t know that they had something special set up for him.” She wiped a tear away as inconspicuously as possible. “He was pushed from the fourth floor of the building. Right onto a pile of…” she choked back a sob and Zahir immediately pulled her into his arms.
“Hush!” he whispered into her ear. “You don’t need to tell me more unless you need to talk about it.”
She breathed in, then out. And then burst into tears. “I’m sorry!” she whispered in between sobs. “This happened years ago. I should be over it!”
“You aren’t over it, eazizi,” he told her, stroking her back as he tightened his arms around her. “Can you tell me what the police said when they arrested the people?”
She laughed, but the sound came out as more of a hiccup. “The coroner labeled his death as a suicide.”
He was silent for a long time and Mandy eventually calmed down. She pulled back and wiped at her tears. “I’m so sorry about that,” she told him, then brushed the lapel of his tuxedo, wiping away the makeup she’d inadvertently left there.
“What are you sorry for?” he asked, taking her hand and leading her over to a bench. They sat down, then turned and watched through the wall of windows framing the courtyard as the other guests danced and laughed, drank expensive champagne and seemed to be having a wonderful time, completely unaware of the emotional upheaval happening in the darkness outside.
“I’m sorry for wasting your time. I’m sorry for crying. I’m sorry that…,” she sighed and shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know.”
“You’re not wasting my time, Mandy,” he assured her softly, his voice deep and rumbly in the darkness. “In fact, I appreciate the trust you show to me by opening up about your past.” He pushed a lock of hair out of the way. “Why do you think your father’s company killed your father? If the coroner ruled his death a suicide, then what makes you think that something nefarious happened?”
She smiled and unconsciously leaned towards him, exhausted after the emotional outburst. “My father wasn’t suicidal, Zahir.” She sighed. “My father was a very happy man who was madly in love with my mom. He and I would grill burgers for dinner on Friday nights while my mom relaxed. He would bring her wine and flowers every Monday. He taught me how to ride a bike. We were planning a trip to the lake for a long weekend the month after he was killed.” She shook her head. “I read a lot about suicide after he was killed, wanting to understand why. So, I started to investigate.” She grinned up at him. “That and the invoices I found were my first taste of forensic accounting. I went through all of the files, invoices, letters, and documents in his desk and all of the emails and text messages on his computer and phone. I dove into every detail I could find.”
“And what did you discover?”
She leaned back, unaware of how her shoulder leaned against his chest. “First, I did the calculations for his fall. If he jumped, then the trajectory would be one way. If it was an accident, then there would be a different trajectory. But his fall was too far out. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t calculate the path for either of those scenarios. The only way he could have fallen where he landed was if he was pushed.” She was silent for a long moment and sighed deeply. “I took that information to the coroner.”
“What happened?”
She let out an inelegant snort. “The man patted me on the head and said I was a good little girl, but that he wouldn’t change his ruling.”
“What happened to the executives of Dillbrook Construction?”
She didn’t answer for a long moment. “I wasn’t wealthy enough or powerful enough to bring them down. But I’ve kept all of the evidence. I have proof that they were using inferior materials, that they violated building codes. I kept all of the evidence in a box for years. When I graduated from college, I took it to the police.” She tilted her head up to look at him. “There’s no statute of limitations on murder.”
“I know that.”
“So I tried to convince the police to look into my father’s death again.”
“What did they say?”
She grimaced. “They patted me on the head and told me I was a good little girl and that I should get on with my life.”
“So, you decided to become an accountant so that you could become wealthy enough to put them in jail?”
She shook her head. “I packed everything into a safety deposit box and hid the key. After I went to the police, my apartment was broken into. I don’t have proof of who broke in, but I’m sure it was someone hired by DillBrook to find the evidence that I was trying to get the police to consider.”
“But they didn’t find it?”
She grinned but he couldn’t see her expression in the darkness. “Nope. The boxes were stored in a security box at a bank in a different town. If they’d bothered to look in the drawers of my first apartment, they would have found the key. They could have gotten rid of the evidence. But I still have it.” She shrugged. “Just more evidence that they are stupid.”
He chuckled. “So, you have evidence that DillBrook was knowingly using inferior materials and circumstantial evidence that someone, you’re not sure who, pushed your father off the building.” He nodded, taking it all in. “And this is why you keep your distance from me. Because you don’t trust powerful men.”
She tilted her head, then nodded. “Yeah. I guess that’s the issue in a nutshell.” She suddenly realized that she was leaning against him, enjoying the feeling of warm security. Mandy shifted away from him, and suddenly, she felt a chill.
Sighing, she brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes. “It doesn’t help that you’re going about this wife-search business in such a cavalier manner.” She looked away, saying, “I know that you’re a very busy man, but bringing all of these women to Sidrina so that you can interview them seems a bit…callous.” She looked up at him. “I understand why you’re doing it, but bringing women to you so that you can choose one of them to be your wife is something that only the wealthy and powerful in this world can get away with. It might be fine in your world, but it merely reinforces the perception that you live by different rules.”
He considered her words carefully, then nodded. “I see your point. But would it help if I told you that my process is to get to know the woman I intend to marry so that I can ensure that she and I are compatible?”
“Compatible? Or someone you can fall in love with?”
His hesitation confirmed her suspicions. Mandy stood up and bowed slightly. “Thank you for listening, Your Highness,” she said, then glanced over at the party that was still in full swing. “I don’t think I’m going to get any useful information from your candidates tonight. I’ll sit in on the interviews tomorrow with Raven and will revise my reports if I find something further to investigate. Otherwise, I will focus on your second project.”
Zahir stood up and nodded. “I agree and I look forward to your report,” he said gravely.
Mandy was startled by…something. There were unspoken words, an undercurrent that she didn’t fully understand in his tone. And because she felt like a coward, Mandy turned on her heel and walked away. Silently, she warned her melting heart that she couldn’t soften towards the man. Not a chance. She was tougher and stronger than that! And she knew not to fall for a charming man’s lip service.
Hasan Isfara glared at the message, his jaw clenching tightly. “When?” he snapped, not bothering to look up at his assistant.
Jacob Mara, Hasan’s dependable, if somewhat nervous, assistant shuffled his feet, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I only received news of the woman’s arrival yesterday.”
Hasan leaned back in his leather chair, glaring at the man across his desk. “Why are you only telling me this now?”
Jacob shrugged. “I was told the woman was coming to help Sheik bin Aristi find a wife. There is another woman, Ms. Raven Markley who is also helping.”
Hasan’s eyes narrowed. “Who the hell is Raven Markley and what’s her role?”
Jacob turned, grabbing a report and handing it over to his boss. “Markley is some sort of match-making guru,” he explained. “Apparently, she’s arranged several love matches for powerful clients around the world. She’s known internationally as a woman who can match anyone to the right person.”
Hasan rolled his eyes in disgust. “Fine. I don’t care about this Markley person. What’s going on with the other one. The accountant you mentioned.”
“She’s actually been here for several days now, sir.”
Hasan sat up abruptly. “Several days?” He thought about the news from another source – the information that Sheik bin Aristi was distracted by a woman. “Why the hell are you just now getting around to telling me about her?”
Jacob hoped he wasn’t noticeably sweating. He was well aware of what his boss was capable of when someone disappointed him and, as his assistant, Jacob didn’t want that brutality directed towards him. “My sources told me originally that Ms. Sullivan was helping Ms. Markley. She’s that forensic accountant that saved the heiress last year?” he prompted. “She also helped put that Spanish aristocrat into prison.”
“How did she do that?” he demanded.
Jacob shrugged. “I don’t have the details. Apparently, her work is very hush-hush. Which is why I didn’t know about her alternate investigations until today, sir.”
“Explain!”
“Ms. Sullivan is looking into the financials of anyone the Sheik is considering marrying!”
There was a long silence while Hasan considered that news. Finally, he snapped, “Why the hell would Aristi care about a woman’s financial background? He’s richer than God!”
Jacob swallowed uncomfortably, trying not to fidget. “Right. Well, if you’ll recall, his previous fiancée went out to that night club and bragged about how she was going to marry the richest man on earth.”
Hasan rolled his eyes as he sighed heavily. “Right. That video was everywhere.” He shook his head in disgust. “That woman was an idiot.”
“Correct, sir. But now that Sheik bin Aristi has started looking for a new fiancée, he hired Ms. Sullivan to ensure that the candidates wouldn’t embarrass him again with their avarice.”
Hasan’s eyes narrowed as he contemplated this new information. “So our leader is still eager to marry, eh?” He thought about how this news would be received by the other members of his…team, for lack of a better word.
“Yes, sir.”
He looked at Jacob sharply. “But you’ve found evidence that someone is looking into our expenses?”
“Yes, sir,” Jacob repeated, trying to hide his trembling from his boss.
Hasan rubbed his chin contemplatively. “Perhaps there is a way to turn this situation to our advantage,” he commented, pacing along the back wall of his office. He considered his options carefully, then nodded. “Yes. I have a plan,” he decided. “Here’s what you’re going to do.”
Jacob listened to his boss, trying to hide his nervousness. This wasn’t a good plan and there was no way that it would work. But Hasan wasn’t a man to ignore. The man had a team of thugs that enforced his dictates. So Jacob would have to do exactly as his boss demanded, even if he disagreed with the man’s directives.