Bought For One Night: The Sheikh's Offer, Page 32

  SIX

  Beth

  To say that Osman’s home was opulent was an understatement. Every room was filled with expensive art, tastefully decorated in a different theme. Beth took note of a distinct European flair in the decidedly Middle-Eastern mansion.

  “And across the way here you’ll find the pool house and gardens, miss,” Nura said in her thick, melodious accent.

  The maid opened the door and the two of them strode quickly across a cream-colored patio landing, Beth shielding her eyes from the glistening water of the pool. Even those two seconds outside were unbearable in the heat, but, glancing to the other side of the pool house, Beth was thrilled to see a wide variety of plant life in the gardens.

  Her tour guide smiled. “His Highness is an avid gardener; he loves his plants very much,” she said.

  “Do you like working for the Sheikh, Nura?” Beth asked as they opened the door to the pool house and slipped inside. There was a large stone bar, fully stocked with top brand liquor. Chaise longues were spread around the room, beckoning all who entered to lay back and relax. Beth was sorely tempted to do so herself.

  “Oh yes, miss,” Nura said with a blush. “He is a most generous employer.”

  Beth realized she’d made the girl uncomfortable, but when one works in the security business, making people uncomfortable is an everyday reality.

  “Do you know of anyone who would want to hurt him?”

  The girl frowned. “Of course not. His Majesty is kind and he likes to have fun. He is not political, like his father was. That may disappoint some, but I think people like him staying out of things.” She was absent-mindedly tidying the space, fluffing bright green pillows that clearly didn’t need to be fluffed. The room was immaculate.

  Beth gazed out one more time at the gardens, and her stomach rumbled.

  Nura didn’t miss a beat. “Your lunch will be served in your rooms, miss, and then you’re welcome to explore the grounds at your own leisure. Right this way,” she said, hurrying them back through the hot noon sun and through a maze of hallways to Beth’s chambers.

  In a weird way, Beth already felt at home in her rooms. Her dining table, not so different from Osman’s, was made of fine wood, and, by the time they arrived, loaded with a delicious smelling luncheon.

  Beth turned to the maid, who was waiting to be dismissed. “Thank you for your tour, Nura. It was really helpful.” Beth smiled, and the maid smiled back. So far Beth had taken a liking to every staff member in the house, keeping in mind that any of them might be putting on a face for her while secretly plotting the demise of their employer. Unfortunately, she had learned not to trust anyone she didn’t know, and so everyone she met was still on trial, though they were completely unaware of that fact.

  Nura bowed. “Thank you, miss. If you need anything, just press the button on the remote in your bedside table drawer.”

  And with that, Nura was scurrying back down the hallway. She didn’t seem to know how to walk slowly, Beth mused.

  She found the remote exactly where Nura had said it would be. The buttons allowed for her to call for room service, maid service, or emergency assistance. There was also, to her bemused surprise, a button that just had the word Osman next to it. She wondered what would happen if she’d pressed it, then thought better of it.

  A knock on the door signaled the arrival of her new wardrobe. Beth let the delivery team and series of maids in before taking a seat and enjoying a feast of fattoush, falafel in cucumber sauce, and warm pita bread dipped in some kind of delicious garlic sauce.

  A tea service had been set, and when Beth poured the decorative blue pot she breathed in the rich scent of green tea, and grinned. His Highness was quite thoughtful, wasn’t he? She had a flashing image of his eyes crinkling in a warm smile, and shook her head, trying not to remember how attracted she’d been to him when she thought he was just the driver.

  Enjoying her tea, she waved to the staff members after they’d filled her closets and drawers and made to depart. She’d kept an eye on them while she ate, making sure her two remaining unpacked suitcases remained untouched. There were some things Beth did not need maid service for, and that was dealing with her own private property. Dabbing her mouth, she made her way over to the dresser and began to sort through her brand new wardrobe.

  Osman was good on his word. While clearly very expensive, her clothing was comfortable and low-key. Shirts with no branding or words on them, plain jeans and loose pants for warmer days spent in the sun. Then she got to the end. Two sleek gowns and two cocktail dresses were hidden in the corner. Beth thought about calling a maid to remove them, then decided against it. One never knew when a disguise might be necessary. Also, the dresses were absolutely stunning—it would be a shame to give them up.

  Glancing in a drawer, Beth found a trendy one-piece swimsuit. As she slid the fabric between her fingers, she decided that a dip in that glorious pool was just the thing to finish the afternoon before preparing for her first night at work. She made short business of changing her clothes, wrapping herself in a towel on her way out the door. She had a pretty good idea at this point which hallway led to the front hall, at least, and found it without too much trouble. A man sitting in a corner of the room darted up when he saw her enter, running to the door and pulling it open as she made to exit.

  “Thank you,” Beth said with a smile.

  The man bowed and said nothing, but when he looked up from his bow, his face was cheerful. Beth liked how happy the staff was in the manor. An unhappy staff would have been her first tip-off to leave this place, but so far she had only been presented with reasons to stay.

  There were two cabanas by the side of the pool, each equipped with a gentle misting machine in one top corner and a flat screen TV in the other. Mini fridges housed bottled water, nips of alcohol and various juice mixers. A bucket of ice looked fresh and ready to be used, perhaps for a bottle of champagne. Beth tossed her towel onto a long pool chair and kicked off her flip-flops. Then, noting the diving board, she walked straight to it and plunged into the cool, refreshing water.

  When her face broke the surface she took a deep breath of desert air, relishing the combination of hot and cold. She swam laps for some time, stretching her legs and enjoying the exercise. She looked out down the long driveway to the main road, which was a long way down from the mansion. Cars drove by, but they were far enough away that Beth couldn’t even hear them.

  She swam over to the side of the pool and glanced at her phone, which was scathing hot. What had she been thinking, leaving it in the sun like that? Time had passed much quicker than she’d thought, and so, lifting herself from the pool, she wrapped a towel around her shoulders and wriggled her toes back into her flip flops, making for the front doors again.

  When she got there, the doors swung open, and, assuming the doorman had anticipated her arrival, Beth strode right in and crashed straight into a hard, person-like wall.

  “Woah!” Osman said as Beth slipped on the slick floor. He grasped her bare arms as she tried desperately to right herself, but somehow she ended up in his arms, inches from his face.

  Beth took a breath, and looked up, frozen as she gazed into those beautiful eyes.

  “Oops,” she said, unable to think of anything intelligent to say.

  They stood like that, gazing at each other, until the doorman went to close the door again and coughed.

  Beth took a step back, feeling dizzy. She stumbled a bit, and Osman held her arm to steady her. His grip felt like fire…and not in a bad way.

  “Are you all right, Beth?” he asked, his brow furrowed.

  Beth wiped a drip of pool water from her forehead and gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “Yes, I’m sorry. Marble floors and flip-flops don’t go well together. I’ll be more careful next time,” she said, making to escape. She didn’t like the way Osman made her feel. She wanted to keep things professional, and doing that in a swimsuit was getting more difficu
lt by the minute.

  Osman’s frown didn’t waver. “It’s still very hot to be out in the pool. Usually it’s best to swim in the evening. You need to be careful in the climate, Beth. I don’t want you getting sunstroke on your first day.”

  Beth’s defenses went straight up. She realized he was still holding her arm, and abruptly pulled it away. “I know my own limits, Your Highness. Thank you for your concern.”

  Osman’s face fell. He took a step back. “I try to take good care of my staff, Beth, and that includes you, now. You’ll have to get used to someone looking out for you, because that’s my job.”

  “And my job is to ensure that no one shoots you. What time do I need to be ready for tonight, Your Highness?”

  “We’ll be leaving at nine o’clock, sharp. We can meet up here again.” Osman paused, as though he wanted to say something.

  Beth didn’t give him the chance. “Until nine, then,” she said, turning on her heel and striding from the main hall back to her suite.

  When she closed the door, she pressed her back to it, trying to keep her heart in check. Part of her was angry at Osman for patronizing her like that. She tried to convince herself that there was nothing about him that should tempt her romantically. He was a job, and that was it.

  But her body disagreed. Her heart raced. Her skin tingled. Her nose had breathed in the warm, musky scent of him and enjoyed every minute of it. Her eyes soaked in the image of his stupid, perfect face.

  Shaking her head at herself, Beth went into her awesome shower and cleaned up. After that, her dinner was brought in for her, and she ate heartily. There would be no knowing what she would face tonight, and she wanted to be as prepared as possible for the task at hand…whatever that may be. She picked out a pair of jeans and a black shirt, which, she swiftly realized, was the most comfortable outfit she had ever worn. Whatever the fabric was, Beth hoped she could afford to buy a pair or two when she got back stateside.

  At five minutes to nine, Beth walked back into the main hallway. Osman was already there, dressed in all black. His hair was styled, and she could smell his cologne from across the room. She coughed, missing the natural scent of him from earlier.

  He turned and grinned at her. “You don’t like it,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

  Beth forced her face back to neutral, kicking herself inwardly for not hiding her reaction better. Playtime was over. She was on duty now.

  Osman held up a finger, wagging it at her. “Come now, Beth. You can’t hide your emotions from me.”

  “Last I checked you weren’t paying me for my opinions, Your Highness.”

  He grinned. “There are certain expectations for someone of my stature. Certain ways of dressing and behaving, even when I go out to play,” he said.

  “Forgive me, Your Highness, but aren’t you rich enough to dictate your own rules? Surely you can afford to be who you want?”

  Osman frowned. “Society has rules that even the rich must follow,” he said, his tone defensive.

  “And who makes all of society’s ‘rules’?” Beth asked with a slight tilt of her head.

  Osman stared at her as Adil opened the front door.

  “The car is ready, sir,” he said.

  Osman continued to stare at Beth. “I’m going to need a few minutes, Adil,” he said, striding out of the room.

  Beth watched his back as he disappeared down the hallway. Staring awkwardly at Adil and the doorman, she shifted from foot to foot as they all waited for Osman to do whatever last-minute thing he wanted. When he came back in, he was completely changed.

  His spiked hair had been reshaped into something much more casual and undone. He wore an outfit not unlike Beth’s—jeans and a plain black shirt— and had clearly showered, because while traces of cologne still hovered around him, he smelled much better.

  He lifted an eyebrow as Beth continued to stare. “What? You and I don’t have such different taste in style, Beth,” he said, offering his arm to her.

  She stared at the arm, not moving to take it. “I’m not your date, Your Highness. I’m your bodyguard. I’ll lead the way,” she said, walking out the front door and gazing around for anything suspicious.

  She didn’t see the look of disappointment on his face as she slid into the back seat of the car and put on her seatbelt, but she did feel his warm thigh brush against her when he took a seat right next to her.

  “Someday your defenses will come down, Beth. When that happens, I hope we can be friends,” Osman said quietly, staring out the window.

  Beth said nothing. She stared out into the night, watching the city come back into view and trying desperately not to think about his leg pressing against hers.