Accidentally the Sheikh's Wife (10 page)

When the after-dinner speeches were finally finished, a small musical ensemble set up and began playing dance music. Some of the older guests gathered their things to leave, but the younger ones began to drift to the dance floor.

Rashid held out his hand to Bethanne. “Will you dance with me?” he asked.

She nodded and rose.

He was conscious of the stares and some of the conversation that erupted when they reached the dance floor. Her blond hair and blue eyes stood out in this group of mostly dark-haired women. He enjoyed taking her into his arms for the slow dance. She was taller than most women he had dated and it was a novelty to not have to lean over to hear if she spoke. Or to kiss her.

He’d thought a lot about that kiss in Quraim Wadi Samil as they moved with the music. He tightened his hold slightly in remembrance. One kiss had him fantasizing days afterward. He’d kissed his share of women. He’d even thought he loved Marguerite. But Bethanne had him in a quandary. He knew this was an interlude that would end as soon as the contract with al Benqura was signed. Yet he found reasons to seek her out and spend time with her. He loved to hear her talk. She wasn’t one to mince words, or be totally agreeable. He knew too many people who sought favor above friendship.

And while he tried to ignore the physical attraction, he couldn’t do it. He longed to press her against him, kiss her, make love to her. Her skin was as soft as down. Her sparkling eyes held wit and humor and made him think of the blue of the Gulf on a sunny day. He wanted to thread his fingers through that silky blond hair and stroke it, feeling the softness, the warmth from Bethanne.

Comparing her to other women was unfair—to others. Unlike Marguerite, she was unpretentious and genuine. She did not show an innate desire to garner as much money as she could in a short time. He detected no subterfuge; had heard no hints about keeping the necklace she wore. He smiled slightly when he thought of her worry if it came undone. He would never expect her to repay the cost of the jewelry. When he’d asked his assistant to find something with blue stones, an array had been brought to the office. These sapphires had matched her eyes. He’d chosen it immediately.

How had he known they would match her eyes? He could not even remember what color Marguerite’s eyes were. Glancing down, he studied his partner as they circled the room. She looked enchanted. And enchanting. Her gaze skimmed around the room, a slight smile showing her enjoyment. As if she could feel his attention, she looked up.

The blue startled him with its intensity. Her smile made him want to slip away from the crowd to a private place and kiss her again.

“Enjoying yourself?” he said, to hear her speak.

“Very much. This is even better than my senior prom, which was the last formal dance I attended, I think. Some of the gowns are spectacular. I’m trying to remember everything so I never forget.”

“There will be others,” he said, taking for granted the setting and the people—many of whom he’d known all his life. His polo team members had been friends for years.

“For you. Once you sign that contract, I’m heading back to Texas.”

“Or you could stay a little longer,” he suggested, wishing to find a way to keep her longer.

From the jump she gave, he’d surprised her with his suggestion.

“I may delay signing the papers until well after the deal is finalized,” he said, half in jest. Far from being angry at Haile, he now thanked her for her defection. Otherwise he would not have known Bethanne. What a shame if he’d merely thanked her for delivering the jet and never seen her again.

“Now why would you do that?” she asked, leaning back a bit to smile up at him with a saucy grin.

It took all of Rashid’s willpower to resist the temptation to kiss her right there on the ballroom floor. She was flirting with him. It had been years since someone had done that in fun. He knew she had no ulterior motives.

“Alexes might never fly again. Perhaps you could become my personal pilot.” He hadn’t thought about that before, but it would be a perfect solution. She’d remain in Quishari and he could see her whenever he wanted.

“My home is in Texas,” she said slowly. “I don’t speak the language here. I have family and friends in Galveston. I don’t think it would work.”

At least she sounded regretful.

“Think about it before deciding,” he said.

“Would there be more dances like this?” she teased.

He laughed and spun her around. “Yes, as many as you wish to attend. I don’t go often, except the ones with the polo team. But that could change. I receive dozens of invitations.”

“I would imagine attending them all would prove tiring. And it would dim some of the splendor if you saw this kind of thing all the time. What makes it special is being rare.”

“A wise woman.”

The music ended. In a moment another song began. Rashid held her hand during the short break, rubbing his thumb lightly over the soft skin. The couple next to them smiled but said nothing, for which he was grateful. Even more grateful when the music began again and he could draw her back into his arms again. It had been a long time since he’d enjoyed spending time with anyone beyond his family.

The evening flew by. Bethanne focused on the offhand invitation to stay. She wasn’t sure if he were serious or not. It was tempting. Maybe too much of a good thing. What would happen if she actually fell in love with the sheikh and he only wanted her as a pilot because Alexes was incapacitated? She gazed off, picturing him with other women—beautiful women with pots of money. He’d ask her to fly them to Cairo or even Rome on holiday. She’d be dutiful and resentful. She didn’t want to fly him and some other woman anywhere. She wanted him for herself.

Startled at her thoughts, she glanced at him quickly, and found his gaze fixed on hers.

“If you are ready to leave, we can return to the villa,” he said.

“I’ve had a lovely time, but it is getting late.” Her heart pounded with the newly admitted discovery. She was in love with Rashid.

“Too late for a walk along the beach?”

To walk along the Persian Gulf in the moonlight—who could pass up such an opportunity?

“Never too late for that.”

On the ride to the villa, he continued to hold her hand. Bethanne told herself it was merely a continuation of the evening. But she felt special. Would it ever be possible for a sheikh to fall for a woman from Texas? With no special attributes except the ability to fly planes? Undoubtedly when he chose a bride, he’d want a sophisticated woman who was as at home in the capital city as she would be anywhere in the world.

When they reached the villa, he helped her from the limo then bypassed the front door to head for the gardens. The pathways were discreetly lighted by soft lamps at foot level. Selective spotlights shone on a few of the topiary plants; the ambient glow felt magical. Fragrances blended delightfully with the salty tang of the sea. She heard the wavelets as they walked along.

“Should we change?” she asked, concerned for the lovely gown.

“More fun this way.”

An unexpected side of Rashid. Every time she thought she had a grasp on his personality, he surprised her.

When they reached the beach, they sat on the chairs to take off their shoes. Rashid rolled his pant legs up and held out his hand for her when she rose. They ran to the water. Bethanne pulled her skirt to above her knees in an attempt to keep the beautiful silk from getting wet, holding it with one hand.

The water was warm. The moon was low on the horizon, painting a strip of white on the calm sea. Stars sprinkled the dark skies. In the distance a soft glow showed where the capital city lay. As if in one accord, they turned and began walking north.

“I can’t believe you live in the city when you have this house,” Bethanne said. “I’d walk along the beach every chance I got if I lived here.”

“You seem to like simple pleasures,” he said. Unlike other women he knew who loved new clothes, jewelry and being seen in all the right places.

“What’s better? Maybe flying.”

“Tell me why you like that so much.”

“I’m not sure I can put it into words. There’s a special feeling soaring high into the sky. The power of the plane at my command. The view of the earth, seeing the curvature, seeing the land as it is and not as man has rearranged it. I never tire of it.”

“I see flying as an expedient way to get from one place to another in the shortest time.”

“Then you need to fly in the cockpit more and give work a rest.”

He laughed. “I would not be where I am today if I didn’t pay attention to business.”

“There’s such a thing as balance.”

“So you suggest I take more time off?”

“Take time to relax. Even in your time off you’re busy. Do you ever just lie on the beach and listen to the waves?”

“No.”

She danced in the water. “I do when I’m home. Galveston has some beautiful beaches and I like to just veg out and do nothing but stare at the water and let the rhythm of the surf relax me.”

“Not often, I bet.” She was too full of energy to be content to sit and do nothing for long.

“I guess not. That’s why when I do, it’s special.”

He stopped and turned to face her. “You’re special, Bethanne Sanders.” He put his free hand around the back of her neck and drew her slowly closer, leaning over to kiss her.

The night was magical, the setting perfection, the woman with him fascinating and intriguing. The temporary nature gave an urgency to their time together. Too short to waste.

She kissed him back, slinging one arm around his neck, her other hand still holding her skirt.

For a long time Rashid forgot about responsibilities, about duties and about the pretense of their relationship. There was only Bethanne and the feel of her in his arms.

Both were breathing hard when he ended the kiss. They were alone on the beach, quite a distance from the villa. He was tempted to sweep her in his arms and find a secluded spot and make love all night long.

“We should return,” he said. Duty over desire, hard to harness.

“Yes.” She let go of his hand, gathered her skirt in both hands and began walking briskly back to the villa.

“Wait.” He hurried to catch her. “Are you okay?” He tried to examine her expression in the faint light but she kept her head averted.

“I’m fine.” She did not stop walking.

“Then the kiss upset you.”

She stopped at that and turned to glare at him. “It did not upset me. What upsets me is that I don’t know the rules of this game. We’re pretending. But that kiss seemed real. You are solicitous in public playing the perfect gentleman who is showing someone around. It’s all fake. Why the kisses?”

Rashid paused. “Because I can’t resist,” he answered, daring to reveal his feelings. It had been a long time since he’d let emotion make inroads. Would he regret the confession?

She blinked at that. “What?” It almost squeaked out.

“Why should that surprise you? I find you beautiful, fun, interesting, different. I want to be with you, touch you.” He reached out his hand and trailed his fingertips down her bare arm, struck again by the warm softness of her skin. “I want to kiss you.”

He could see her indecision. Finally she nodded once. “Okay, but unless we are really going somewhere with this relationship, no more than kisses.”

Her words jerked him from the reverie he had of the two of them spending time together. He was not going anywhere with any relationship. He had tried love and failed. He had tried arranged marriage—and that didn’t look like it was in the cards, either. Was it too much to ask just to enjoy being together for a while—as long as they both wanted?

“Then I’ll just have to settle for kisses,” he said, drawing her back into his embrace.

Bethanne awoke the next morning feeling grumpy and tired when Minnah entered with the usual breakfast fare. She refused to let her crankiness show and almost screamed with impatience while the maid fussed around before leaving. Bethanne had not had a good night’s sleep and it was all Rashid’s fault. She’d been a long time falling asleep thinking of the kisses at the beach. And the words he had not spoken—that their relationship had a future. That hurt the most.

She sipped her chocolate and wondered what she was doing. Always one to face facts, she simply could not let herself imagine she was falling for the sheikh. She needed to visit the places she wanted to, search for her father and remind herself constantly that Rashid’s interests did not coincide with hers.

If she told herself a dozen times an hour, maybe she’d listen. But her heart beat faster just thinking of Rashid and the kisses they’d stolen in the night. His scent was permanently affixed in her mind, his dark eyes so compelling when he looked directly at her she could feel herself returning his regard, wishing there were only the two of them. She had run her hands through his hair, pulled him close and shown her feelings while all he had wanted were a few kisses.

She frowned. Time to rise above the attraction that seemed to grow by leaps and bounds and forget any flighty feelings of love. She had her own quest that being here afforded. Today she’d return to the square to see if the man her father had met had returned. Yesterday the waiter who had spoken to her that first day wasn’t there. The one working had not understood English. Maybe the other would be back today.

She’d focus on her search for her father and get over Rashid before she saw him again!

Arriving at the square around ten, she went straight to the sidewalk café, searching for the waiter she’d spoken with before. Thankfully he was there. He came out of the interior to greet her.

“I have a note for you,” he said with great pride. With a flourish, he withdrew it from his apron pocket and handed it to her. “I knew you would return,” he said.

“Thank you. I’ll sit over here and have coffee, please.” She sat down at a side table and opened the folded paper.

“Hank was a friend of mine. A fellow American. I will stop by the café each day this week in hopes of seeing you.” It was signed, Walt Hampstead.

Another American. That made it simple; at least she and he would speak the same language. She would have needed Teaz to translate if Hank’s friend had been a native of Quishari.