Sheikh's Possession (3 page)

"You wouldn't understand," she said, and it was true. There was no way that she could explain the mess, first at the souk, and then at the dinner.

At the heart of it, her fast mouth had got her into this, and at the end of it, she hoped that her fast mouth could get her out of it as well.

***

That night in his penthouse apartment, Rasul wondered what the hell he was doing. He stripped to his skin, stretching out on his wide empty bed.

It usually wasn't this empty. There was a time not all that long ago when he would have had a different woman in it every week, gorgeous blondes, sultry redheads, wide-eyed brunettes. Then at some point in the last year, it had all gone dull. Nothing was exciting anymore, and he wondered, more bored than anything else, if it was time to give in and settle down.

Just a few weeks ago, Rasul had started to consider what he might look for in a suitable sheikha, a woman to be both his wife and the lady of his country, as he was the lord. He considered qualities like birth, wealth, biddable temperament, things that would make for a stable and uneventful partnership.

None of those qualities would have led him to the woman that he now knew was called Berry. He would never have thought that he wanted a woman so tall or slender, with hair that picked up points of brown fire and whose clear green eyes could snap with rage.

He couldn't explain it to himself, not really. When he had a free day, Rasul sometimes liked to go down into the souk. It was something his father had done, and his grandfather as well. The men of his dynasty had always kept a close ear on what was going on among their people, and he suspected that this was the tradition that had aided them in that goal.

He had been wandering around, thinking of nothing much, when he heard a spirited bidding war going on. Rasul stopped to casually see what the fuss was about, and he was surprised to see that the woman who was coming out on top was a foreigner. For some reason, when she glanced over at him, he could feel his heart beat faster in his chest, as if something subtle but real had changed his world forever.

That was when he decided that he had to get involved, though afterward, he had realized he might have done so in a rather foolish way.

When he bought the statue for her, he expected her to be pleased. In his experience, women loved gifts, though he had to admit that a camel statue was hardly the most romantic thing in the world. He had vaguely thought that the statue would be a jumping off point, where he could take her to dinner, and then perhaps more if they were both suited.

Of course it hadn't turned out that way. Instead of an assignation with a striking woman, he had ended up sitting on a bench discussing relationships with her. Rasul couldn't remember the last time he had spent so much time with a woman, speaking to her about something so placid.

Before he was even vaguely ready for her to go, she had ducked through the crowd, leaving him holding a camel statue that he had not wanted in the first place. As rejections went, it was a mild one, but he felt a pang at never seeing her again.

He had thought about her every day for the last few weeks, and when he saw her in the crowd, his heart had skipped a beat. Had he finally lost his mind and ended up hallucinating the beautiful foreigner?

Then his eyes took in the expensive dress that seemed to skim her elegant curves, and he took in the silver-haired man that she whispered so insistently to.

Rasul had nearly skipped giving his speech altogether. He wasn't sure that he could go out onto the stage and see such a beautiful woman chained to such an old man. Despite her cutting words, he had admired her independence at the souk, and to see her turn out to be such a hypocrite stung in a way he didn't like.

Rasul had been planning to avoid her when the mingling and dancing started, but something drew him to her like a nail to a magnet. He had told himself that he knew better to go confront a woman who boiled his blood like this one did, but it was inevitable.

At first he had been furious, and then when he found out about her deception, that fury had spiked and then finally faded to confusion. He was a man who was well used to women falling down at his feet. If his looks didn't convince them, oftentimes simply his fame or his wealth would do it. He had never been in a situation where they didn't.

And yet … and yet there was Berry.

She was as gorgeous in a simple dusty dress at the souk as she was in a sparkling cocktail dress, and no matter where she was, she wasn't afraid to let those gorgeous eyes spit fire at anyone who displeased her. That alone would have drawn his attention, but some part of him was becoming convinced that there was more to it than that.

As he drifted off to sleep that night, he found himself dreaming of her lush mouth. Could it curve into a smile as well as it could curve into a sneer? What would she look like when that same mouth had been freshly kissed?

CHAPTER THREE

For a few days, Berry heard nothing from Rasul at all. She told herself that now that he had had his fun, there was no reason for him to continue to speak to her. Likely, he had gone on to forget all about her.

After all, I am a very forgettable person,
she thought.
He probably has tons of people who are after his attention and who didn't scream at him as he went to try to buy her something …

That comforted her right up until that Tuesday when her phone rang as she was eating breakfast. She almost didn't pick it up, but duty got the better of her.

"Hello, Berry, I hope this morning finds you well."

She blinked a little bit, startled and blushing to hear his voice. "I … Oh, Sheikh Rasul!"

There was that familiar laugh. "That's quite formal, don't you think?" he said teasingly. "After all, I think we know each other a little bit better than that …"

"I suppose we do," she said reluctantly. "How can I help you today?"

"Well, I know that Michael Farnsworth offered you to me as if you were a prize he was dangling to get my support for the mall …"

"The man is not subtle," she muttered without thinking about it, and Rasul laughed.

"Quite. And the truth is that I am going to take grotesque advantage of his generosity because there are some things that I want to have appraised, but I would rather not have that happen while you were silently cursing me and wishing for my death."

"I wouldn't do that," she protested.

"Well, I am certainly glad to hear that, but I do need to apologize to you. When I saw you at the banquet, it seems as if I lost my head. I saw you with a man that I assumed had to be your husband or your patron, and I couldn't stop myself from abusing you. No matter what he was to you, it was none of my business."

Berry blinked. Whatever she had been expecting, it certainly wasn't this. She had expected him to fly right past the conversation that they had had, possibly taking a few more jabs about things that she had done with her boss before doing that. The fact that he hadn't was startling.

"So I apologize, and I hope that you can find it possible to forgive me."

She took another breath, and then one after that. When she spoke again, she surprised herself. "Thank you for your apology, but look, I just have to apologize too. What I said was rude and ill-considered when we saw each other at the banquet …"

 "Hmm." He seemed to think about what she had said for a moment. "And why are you apologizing? Is it because your boss asked you to do so? If so, that really doesn't hold much water …"

She bit her lip, and then decided that at least at this point, she should simply tell him the truth. "I shot my mouth off because I was irritated," she said. "And if I am frankly honest, it sounds as if you did the same. Do you think … do you think that maybe we can just agree to forgive and forget? I mean, I hope we can …"

She came to a stuttering stop, aware that her explanation was likely just making things worse. She couldn't really figure out what she was trying to say, only that her strange attempt to make things better had somehow gotten very tangled.

"All right, then, do you think we can start fresh?" he asked. "Come at things with new eyes, and maybe try not to be so terrible to one another?"

"I would like that," she said with relief.

"Good. Then when are you free?"

As it turned out, she had a free afternoon, and she agreed to meet him at his apartment in downtown Alamun. She dressed carefully for the appointment in a long linen dress that was specifically not flirtatious or in any way revealing. There was so much going on, and right now, the last thing that she wanted to do was to send the wrong signals. He might be confused or offended after everything that had gone on with them.

Or maybe you are just afraid that he would take you up on it, and then you wouldn't have any idea what to do,
the voice in her head jibed.

She ignored it. It had never helped her in the past, and she saw no reason why it might help her now.

The cab that picked her up dropped her off in one of the most expensive areas in a very expensive city. Even the doorman was better groomed and more poised than she was, and as she made her way through the lobby, she held her tablet in front of her as if it were a shield.

Before she could get too panicked about being lost and out of place, however, she heard her name, and turned to see Rasul come up to her.

Today he was dressed in some more traditional garb, with a long black tunic of shiny black silk and a pair of narrow trousers made of the same fabric. The rather austere attire only made him look taller and more handsome, and Berry allowed herself a moment to feel slightly wistful before getting down to business.

"Sheikh Rasul …"

He frowned at her with mock severity. "I thought we were beyond that. Do I have to order you to call me by my given name without the title?"

She blushed. Usually she was so competent and quick witted when she was working with customers or vendors. What had happened to that?

"Now may I hear you say my name?" he said softly, and she took a deep breath.

"Rasul," she said, and it came out softer and breathier than she had intended. For a moment they were both still. She wondered if the same shiver that went through her had gone through him. This might prove to be very, very bad for her objectivity after all.

"Good," he said softly. "That is a fine start."

Before she could ask him what he meant, he led her into the glass elevator and punched the button for the penthouse. When she entered his home, Berry was impressed by the quiet opulence and elegance of the place. She had had plenty of rich clients and buyers before, but so few of them really knew how to make things look good. His home was austere, perhaps even a little sparse. The textures in the rugs, the furniture, and the wall hangings were very rich, however, and everywhere she looked, she wanted to touch.

"The item that I want you to appraise is on the table," he said. "I'll order us some food while you take a look at it."

She walked into the open dining room, not expecting anything untoward, but then when she saw what was in front of her, she froze.

Occupying pride of place at the center of the table was the brass camel statue that they had fought over at the souk, and Berry was suddenly beset with a whirlwind of feelings.

Finally, however, hilarity won out. She slouched into one of the tall chairs, covering her face with her hands as tears rolled down her cheeks. There was something startlingly refreshing and cleansing about her laugh, and when she looked up, Rasul stood with one shoulder hitched up on the doorway, an amused expression on his face.

"I was wondering how you were going to react to that," he admitted, and she shot him wry look.

"You know, the other reaction that I was considering was all about rage and pitching a fit. That was an impressive risk to take, I think."

He grinned, coming into the room with her. "I've already tasted your ire," he said with chuckle. "I was well braced and prepared for it."

Berry shook her head. "All right. It's probably time for me to start earning my keep, so let's talk camel. I didn't get much more than a cursory glance at the piece before, so I'll get a better one now."

She pulled the camel towards her, trying to be as businesslike as she could. There was something just a little unnerving about the way he was standing behind her, watching her every move as raptly as a hawk. Berry supposed that she could have been flattered, but the word that came to her mind was a little stronger. Somehow, she felt as if she were being seduced, something that surely could not have been happening simply because he was watching her as she examined a brass statue.

"It's about what I thought it was," Berry said, resolutely keeping her eyes on the statue. "It's a great example of Alamun brass work from some three hundred years ago, maybe more, but the way the brass is scored and refined suggests that that's about the right vicinity. Alamun's art has always been wonderfully realistic and very detailed, but this piece is exceptionally good for its age. You can see where the sculptor really knew camels, knew their habits, and their attitudes. See how the head is slightly tilted and the legs are folded just so? That's the mark of a man or woman who knew what they were doing."

"Woman? There were women brass workers back then?" he asked curiously, and Berry shot him a wary look.

"Look, you are getting my expertise free of charge through offering my boss your ear. You can do what you like with my information, but really, don't tell me that it's bad, not when I've spent so long getting it right."

He raised his hands peacefully, but she could tell that there was still something amused about his expression. Some of the good feelings she had gotten from him over the last few minutes were disappearing again.

"I did not mean to offend," he said. "It is only that my country's history has not been one that has included a great many women in it. For better or worse, Alamun women have always been very much attached to the home, whether that home was a charcoal burner's hut or a sheikh's palace."