Chapter 8
My day starts hectic as usual, and I wonder if I’ll ever be able to slow down. Since my twenties, even long before taking over my father’s place as the Sheikh of Sintarah, I’ve forgotten what it’s like to work less than ten hours a day.
I hear my brothers and Adil talking while my mind is miles away, thinking about the unresolved issue from my past. For years, I’ve been seeking an answer, but it feels like I’m going in circles, getting nowhere.
The investigation I commissioned must be discreet, otherwise it would be a scandal in my country.
“So, you closed the deal for the new yacht?” Zarif asks Irfan.
“Yes, but Vicenzzo told me it will take over a year to be ready.”
“No problem. Mine was delivered last week. Let’s throw a party to celebrate.”
“Is that all you think about?” I ask.
“Why not? You should give it a try. Maybe it would improve your mood.”
“I don’t like people.”
“Shocking news,” he laughs. “Unless, of course, by ‘people’ you mean a stunning model. Speaking of, what happened to Danna?”
“It’s over.”
“Ah, the one-month deadline. How could I forget?”
“Stop teasing him, Zarif. It’s better than suddenly being presented with a surprise ‘child’.”
Before Zarif can reply to Irfan, the door opens after just two knocks, and the woman I’ve been avoiding for days steps in, more beautiful than ever.
She stands still, perhaps because she didn’t expect so many people in the room, or because she didn’t think she would find anyone here since I’ve been working from home.
I check the sleeveless, pink, silk dress she’s wearing today. It clings to her curves much more than the business suits I’ve seen her wear the two times we’ve met, especially around her breasts and hips.
I wonder if she would have worn this outfit if she knew she would meet me here.
I know my advisor and brothers are captivated by Madeline as well. How could they not be? She’s gorgeous and sensual with her shiny hair and innocent face.
A face that awakens in me the desire to corrupt her, to teach her the pleasures of sex, because something tells me that Madeline is inexperienced.
I try to focus on what I promised myself: not to cross the professional boundary. But the way my assistant looks at me doesn’t help my case.
I don’t think she realizes she’s sending me a silent invitation.
Both of us know it’s wrong, but there’s an intense magnetism that draws us together. Something I haven’t experienced with any of the women in my life.
What am I going to do with you, Madeline?
I am convinced that getting involved with her would be a mistake. I would have to break the one-month rule if I decided to seduce her, which is one of the most important I have.
Besides, something tells me that a month would not be enough. Not even close. All of Madeline—her body and her face—is capable of stirring even a dead man’s lust. I know that if I make her mine, I won’t let her go so easily.
I feel my body tense with repressed desire. I’m not used to denying myself what I want or ignoring my sexual appetite. This is an unprecedented situation.
I see Zarif rise, stepping into her personal space. “So, you’re Madeline.”
My assistant blushes but doesn’t look away, meeting his gaze with her head held high. “Hello,” she replies.
“And you have a delightful voice too. My name is Zarif, beautiful Madeline,” he says, but when he takes her hand to kiss it, I rise within seconds.
“Stay away from my assistant, Zarif. As I’ve already told Adil, Madeline is off-limits.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Your Highness,” she says to the jerk.
“Zarif, sweetie. Why so formal?”
Irfan also approaches her. “Pleasure to meet you, Madeline. I’m Irfan.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” she politely repeats and then comes toward me. “Is this a bad time, Your Excellency?”
“No. They were leaving.”
“First, let me invite you to a party on my yacht, Madeline. I suppose you don’t know many people in London yet. I heard you’re American.”
“Yes, I am,” she answers, but looks at me. “I really don’t know many people, but I don’t think it would be appropriate for me to socialize with his family while I’m working for His Excellency, Sheikh Kamal.”
“Don’t let him control your personal time. My brother is a tyrant.”
I know the wretched man is provoking me, so to get rid of him, I say, “She’ll be busy all week.”
“Everybody has a day off,” he says to my assistant, and I know it’s just to irritate me. “I can wait until you’re free.”
“No matter the day, she won’t go, Zarif. Now get out of here.”
I hear Irfan’s laughter, and the three of them start walking towards the door, but then Madeline says, “I’ll have a day off next Saturday. I’d love to attend your party, Zarif.” Her voice sounds defiant.
“I think I’m in love with you, Madeline,” my brother mocks.
I feel my blood rising. She’s challenging me.
“Leave,” I say, ice dripping from the word. This time, they do as I say.
When the door closes, I take a step closer to her. If Zarif was invading her personal space before, there’s no name for what I’m doing. I’m so close that I can almost feel her breath.
Her chest rises and falls rapidly, and I can see from her expression that she wants to step back, but she doesn’t.
This closeness is, at the very least, inappropriate, but I can’t think clearly in this moment.
She just stares at me. Again, I feel that powerful connection, that kind of sexual magnet drawing us to each other.
I want to break it.
I need to fight the hunger she stokes in me, but I also want to hold her by the nape of her neck and claim that mouth, marking her.