The Oil Tycoon and Her Sexy Sheikh (10 page)

The evening sun was warm against her back, and Khaled’s body was warm under her front. Olivia gave herself over to the heat deep within her. She reached back to undo her bikini top
,
but Khaled’s fingers were there before her. She shimmied the bottoms off and sighed in deep satisfaction. The world was a glorious place. In that moment, there was nothing but Khaled. Even the deep turquoise waters of the Gulf and the warm azure sky disappeared into oblivion when faced with the man she loved, and the brief moment of freedom she had to enjoy him.

Olivia watched with pleasure as Khaled pulled his polo shirt over his head and disposed of his shorts equally swiftly. Dalneith House in the firelight had been incredible, but the deck of the boat with the water beneath them and the sun above was sensational. His hands reached for her again, sending sparks across her warm skin with every touch. She pressed herself against him, giving him everything, taking everything, making this the only thing that mattered. He responded with an urgency that told her just how much he had been holding back. He still wanted her, despite it all. There was no tenderness in the kisses that marked her skin using teeth and tongue to claim her for himself. Weeks of frustration bubbled over into a few moments of untrammeled passion as Olivia was carried away by Khaled’s desire.

Afterward, she lay contentedly with her head resting on Khaled’s shoulder and his arm around her waist.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Really?” Khaled sounded skeptical.

Olivia laughed. “Not really. We both needed that.”

“Perhaps.”

He was thinking of Saqat again. Olivia didn’t let herself wonder whether he was thinking of Aliya.

A loud rumble broke the tension. Khaled sat up. “I believe I mentioned drinks an hour ago.”

Olivia grinned. “Sorry I distracted you.”

He quirked an eyebrow at her. “I’ll forgive you this once.”

He put on his shorts and started the engine again. “You need to put some clothes on. You’ll burn.”

“You were pretty thorough with the sunblock.”

“Even so. Have some water.”

Olivia was surprised at how endearing she found his protectiveness. She took two bottles of water, opened both, and handed one to Khaled.

“So…”

Khaled’s look was hardly encouraging, but Olivia smiled sunnily and continued.

“You’re not going to sign the contract.”

His eyes narrowed. “We agreed to this two days ago. You’re going to draw it up with the suggested amendments, and then I am going to sign.”

“No, you’re not. I won’t let you.”

“Livvy,” he said, and her heart leapt at his use of her nickname. “You’ve seen my country. You see how the people here live. How can I deny them the chance of a better life?”

Olivia shook her head. “I’m not asking you to. I’m asking you to find a better way. For your people and your country. For this!” She waved her arm expansively.

Khaled stared at her incredulously. “A better way? Who do you imagine I am—Superman?”

She reached to touch his hand. “Not Superman, but I have confidence in you, Khaled.”

He covered her hand with his. “I’ve tried. Ever since our first meeting, I’ve thought of everything I can. There isn’t a better way. The MCI contract is more than fair. We’ve talked through the amendments I want, and I’m going to sign. I’ve spoken with my father and he agrees.”

“But I don’t.”

Khaled turned away. “Don’t make this any more difficult than it has to be, Olivia.”

“I think it has to be difficult. The whole situation is difficult.”

He shrugged helplessly.

“You were right the first time we met. This—” She flung her hand wide again to encompass the vast beauty before them. “This is important. You’ve worked to protect it, and even if your people don’t appreciate it now, their grandchildren surely will.”

“Their grandchildren will appreciate good education, good jobs, and good health care.”

“Of course they will. You can still provide those things.”

Khaled shifted slightly so that his face was hidden from Olivia. He stared out to sea in silence for a long time.

“You’re right,” he said eventually. “I can’t sign the contract with MCI Oil.”

Olivia watched the tension ease from Khaled’s shoulders. She was glad that he’d worked it out finally. He wouldn’t sign and so she would have to go back to Aberdeen and tell her father she’d failed. Olivia wrapped her arms around herself and shivered, despite the heat of the afternoon sun. Khaled’s arm came round her shoulders and she leaned into him, grateful for his warmth for as long as she had it.

“I wanted to do it for you,” he murmured.

“I know. That’s why you mustn’t. It’s too important a decision to make for a reason like that.”

He held her a little tighter. “I wish I could give you the world, Olivia.”

“I don’t want the world.”

“I know. I wish I could give you everything you deserve.”

“The job, you mean?”

“The job. The family. The husband who loves you.”

She hadn’t expected him to say it at all, but now she needed to be sure. “Khaled?”

“I love you, Livvy.”

For a brief, glorious moment, the world was her own personal paradise. Khaled loved her. He kissed her. A soft, sweet kiss, full of aching tenderness, that was over far too soon and Olivia had to face reality again.

“It doesn’t change anything, does it?”

“I am afraid not. I cannot ask you to be my wife. You have seen how traditional my country is.”

“I like everything I have seen of your country.”

“Thank you. But you have seen it as a Western visitor, not as the wife of the emir. My
sheikha
will be subject to continual intrusions on her privacy and restrictions on her behavior. She will be expected to wear traditional dress and play the traditional role of a woman.”

“Virtuous, modest, dutiful. I was listening earlier.”

“I need my people to accept me as their ruler. I need them to accept my wife.”

“I know. You don’t have to spell it out again for me.”

“Maybe I just need to keep reminding myself of the reasons why I can’t have you.”

They gazed out over the calm blue waters of the Gulf. It was hard to believe that this place could have anything in common with the steel-gray, freezing cold North Sea she’d grown up with, but they both hid the same black-gold treasure that made people’s hearts fill with greed and jealousy, that could tear apart nations and families. In that moment, Olivia hated oil and everything it represented. She would have given anything for it never to have been discovered. Never to have upset the balance of the world with its deep power.

But there was oil out there and Saqat needed the money from it, so she had to tell him her plan. It was the obvious solution and she’d known it for weeks. Now that Khaled had decided not to sign with MCI there was no reason not to tell him. “I have an idea.”

“Go on.”

She took a deep breath. Committing professional suicide was a lot easier in theory than in practice. A quick glance at Khaled gave her courage to go on.

“What if you formed a new oil company? Here in Saqat.”

“What good would that do? It’s still oil. It doesn’t matter who is drilling it.”

“Think about it, Khaled. If you were on the board, you could control everything. You could take your time over things, establish rigorous safety procedures, develop more secure drilling methods. Saqat Oil could be at the forefront of a new stage in the oil industry. You could be the world leaders in environmentally friendly oil.”

He was staring at her. “Why are you telling me this? Why aren’t you still pushing me to take the MCI deal? That’s your job, Olivia. That’s what you want, isn’t it? To succeed your father, to show him that you’re the best person for the job.”

She met his gaze squarely. “I’m telling you this because I believe it’s the right thing for Saqat. Because your country is more important than my career.”

Because someone needs to help you and it might as well be me.

Because I love you.

“Does your father know that you are giving me this advice?”

She bit her lip. Her father would be horrified if he ever found out what she’d done. She’d had the contract and let it slip through her fingers. Worse, she’d deliberately thrown it away. “No.”

“What if he finds out?”

“He won’t. You’ll persuade the Saqati Council it was your idea, and I’ll tell him I did my best to talk you round. He’ll believe I wasn’t up to the job easily enough.”

His eyes flickered with sympathy. “It’s an interesting proposition, certainly, but I don’t know, Livvy. I don’t know anything about running an oil company.”

“You’ll work it out. Hire people. Ask for help.”

He shook his head. “It’s a lot to think about, on top of everything else I have to do.”

“Take your time. You’ve had more than enough on your mind lately. But don’t do anything irreversible until you’re sure.”

“You’re going back to Scotland soon.”

“On Monday, but there are telephones and the Internet. If you want to contact me, you still can. It doesn’t have to be a deadline.”

It would be, though. Once Khaled had time to think through her proposal, she was certain he would see the sense in it. She’d fly back to Aberdeen and that would be the end of her desert romance with the Arabian sheikh. She’d have a story to tell her own grandchildren one day, though she doubted they would believe something so farfetched that she hardly believed it herself.

First she’d have to tell her father that the deal was off. He’d be disappointed but unsurprised, and she could kiss good-bye to her hopes of the CEO job. For the moment, anyway. There’d be another deal, another chance to prove herself. She’d given up more than enough for Khaled Saqat. She wasn’t going to let him take that dream away from her, too.

…

“It is the state reception tomorrow night.”

They were almost back at Saqat City. On the long drive through the desert, they had hardly spoken. Even now, Khaled’s eyes remained fixed on the road ahead.

“Yes. I received a formal invitation to the event a few weeks ago.” Jemimah had confirmed that it was still going ahead, despite the emir’s recent illness.

“I will understand if you prefer not to attend, and I will make your excuses known.”

They had reached the edge of the city now, and outside Olivia’s window was only glittering white sand and the perfect kingfisher blue of the Persian Gulf. She could reschedule her flight. There was no reason for her to stay in Saqat any longer, but failure to attend a state occasion would probably cause some kind of minor diplomatic crisis, and the last thing she wanted was to draw attention to herself by doing something so stupid.

“You’re going to marry her, then?”

“It seems so.”

“Despite this afternoon.”

His jaw clenched tight and he spoke through gritted teeth, “Yes.”

“Because you think it is your duty.”

He didn’t answer that.

“Poor Aliya,” she said after a pause.

“Poor
Aliya?
” He sounded as though it had never occurred to him to pity the girl. “She will be my wife. The most important woman in the country.”

“She will be married to a man who chose her because he thought it was his duty. Not a man who loves her.”

“She could refuse if she felt like that about it.”

Olivia pressed her lips tight. She’d seen the girl. Young and overawed by the royal palace, there was no chance Aliya would dare refuse Khaled’s proposal. Perhaps she even thought she might be happy as the emir’s wife. Perhaps she would be. Khaled would never intend to hurt her. They might find a comfortable contentment together. Perhaps it would be enough.

It wouldn’t be enough for Olivia, not now she knew what it was like to be loved the way Khaled loved her. Even before he’d said it, in a million tiny ways, she had seen the evidence of it. In the tenderness of his eyes, in the encouraging touch of his hand, in the huskiness of his voice when he whispered in her ear, he had shown her how he felt about her. He’d spoiled her and now she would never be able to settle for a man who loved her less.

Chapter Nine

He loved her.

It shouldn’t have come as such a shock to him. Every time the subject of his prospective marriage had been mentioned, it was Olivia his thoughts turned to. When he imagined standing before his people, taking on his father’s mantle, it was Olivia he wanted by his side. He didn’t know how he would have got through this last, nightmarish week without her calm presence in the palace to soothe him. But he had been so focused on all the reasons why he couldn’t have her that he’d forgotten to ask himself why he wanted her.

Olivia was beautiful, yes, but no more so than Aliya. She was intelligent and easy to talk to, but he had found Aliya surprisingly good company on the few occasions when they had met. True, he was sexually attracted to Olivia, while Aliya left him cold, but he didn’t love Olivia for the passionate way she kissed or the way she could set his pulse racing with a simple touch of her hand.

There were no reasons except one. She was Olivia and that was why he loved her. His Livvy, who made him feel alive. And she was right, as she always was. He couldn’t marry another woman while he was in love with her. He would have to stop it, and fast. He needed to speak to his father, and then he needed to speak to Aliya.

Khaled waited in the ostentatious entrance to the stateroom, watching for the moment when she arrived. At their previous meetings, Aliya had been dressed in the traditional Saqati outfit that hid everything and was supposed to drive a man wild wondering what lay beneath. Tonight, she had adopted a Western style of dress, with a fitted, beaded bodice and a long flowing skirt of pale pink silk.

It was a dress for a princess, Khaled realized, with a sinking feeling in his stomach. The little tiara she wore was no more than a plaything for a child, adorned with seed pearls and tiny jewels, but for Aliya it was a symbol of the position she hoped to have.

He couldn’t help comparing her with Olivia, dramatic on the other side of the room in her burnt orange gown. Against the deep red walls, she was like a glowing ember. A high neck and long sleeves gave the impression of modesty, though the way the fabric clung to her breasts made a mockery of that. And at the back, the neckline swooped, teasing men with all kinds of possibilities. The silk of the skirt flowed like molten metal—copper and gold, sinuously curving around the womanly body beneath. She was no untouchable princess, living in a cartoon fantasy with a talking animal for a friend. She was real and hot and possessed of a magnetic attraction against which Khaled had no defense.

Khaled forced himself to smile down at Aliya by his side. None of this was her fault. She deserved her dreams, too. Just not with him. She deserved more than to be married at nineteen to a man who loved another woman. Aliya was just a child, dressing up and playing at being a princess. She would be upset, but her heart would not be broken.

His eyes drifted back once more to Olivia, smiling and nodding as she spoke with one of Saqat’s senior ministers. He bent and whispered in his father’s ear. The older man frowned but agreed with a reluctant nod.

Khaled held out his hand to Aliya. “Will you walk with me?”

She smiled sweetly and let him tuck her hand into his arm. Khaled maneuvered her discreetly out of the stateroom and onto the terrace. He explained bluntly that he was sorry if her hopes had been raised, but he had no plans to marry at present. She frowned and he told her that he would speak with her father, and explain that it was not her fault.

“I will tell Jemimah to contact you about your shop. She will know how to help you.”

“Thank you, Your Highness. You are most kind.”

When they returned, Aliya walked two paces ahead of Khaled. Her spine was straight and her head held high. She was a brave girl, sorry to disappoint her father, but resigned to the prince’s will.

“She’s very pretty.”

Olivia had made her way to stand beside him. They both watched as Aliya crossed the room to her father’s side.

“Yes,” he said. “But very young.”

“I daresay that is a good thing.”

Khaled glanced at her. “You think so?”

She shrugged. “She will be more… adaptable.”

He laughed. “Indeed. Excuse me, please. I must speak to some of the other guests.”

Olivia sipped at her drink. The stateroom was impressive on any occasion, but tonight it sparkled. Vast crystal chandeliers lit the room. Golden tables were piled high with fruits and other Saqati delicacies. Palm trees and arched colonnades gave the illusion of an outdoor courtyard. A fairy tale reality.

Jemimah had noticed that Olivia was alone. She detached herself courteously from the guests she was with and came over.

“Have you heard?” she said, eyes gleaming with excitement.

“About what?”

“Your radio interview. Sadiah says the station phone lines have been jammed with women calling to see if they can meet you or find out more about you. And the competition entries have gone through the roof.” Olivia had donated a prize of a new laptop, loaded with educational software and configured for Arabic use.

She shook her head in amazement. “Why would they be so interested in me?”

“Because you were honest with them. You told them it wasn’t easy and they know that, but you also told them why it was worth it.”

“Yes, but…”

“Besides, there have been, well, not exactly rumors.” Jemimah’s eyes twinkled.

“What rumors?” If word had got out that she was from an oil company, Khaled would never forgive her. She would never forgive herself.

Jemimah nodded in Khaled’s direction. “Those kind of rumors. Ever since you visited the souk together.”

Olivia felt her face grow warm.

“But there is no need to worry. Everyone is pleased for him.”

The secrecy about the reason for her visit to Saqat was supposed to have stopped rumors about her business, not started gossip about her personal life.

“There isn’t anything for them to be pleased about, I promise. The sheikh and I are friends, that’s all. We were doing business together.”

“It’s all right,” Jemimah assured her. “You don’t have to tell me.”

There was no time to protest. The room fell quiet and all eyes turned to the emir seated on the gold and velvet throne on the small daïs. Olivia had heard about his illness from Khaled, but this was her first opportunity to see for herself.

He stood, with some difficulty and a supportive hand from his son, but his dignity was all his own. Olivia shifted her position beside Jemimah to get a better look at the emir’s face. It was easy to see how, in thirty or forty years, Khaled would resemble his father. They shared the same slant of their eyes and set of their mouths. She recognized the dark gleam of his eyes as he silently called the room to attention.

He spoke in Arabic, but it was not hard to work out the gist of his speech
when he
called Khaled forward to kneel before him. The emir placed both hands on his son’s head and spoke what Olivia assumed to be a blessing. When Khaled rose, he kissed his father’s cheeks, and then turned to face the room. In a solemn gesture of humility, he bowed his head. Everyone else, including Olivia, bowed in return.

“He is proclaimed the heir,” Jemimah whispered.

Olivia sent her a grateful smile at the explanation.

“Of course, he was always assumed to be the heir, but now he is in the official place that gives him full authority with immediate effect. The emir stands down.”

She wondered whether Khaled had known that his father had planned to make such a public transfer of power tonight.

The emir continued to speak, his frail face full of joy. Olivia’s stomach clenched. This must be the betrothal announcement. She clutched her glass of wine and forced her lips into a polite smile.

Jemimah bent forward and whispered again. “He is talking about the oil in the Saqati waters. The prospect of prosperity for our country. How proud he is to leave the nation in this position. How he knows that his son will lead us well.”

Olivia held her breath as the emir took his seat and Khaled stepped forward to speak. He barely raised his voice, but everyone in the room was listening intently. She could feel the goodwill behind him as the people wished their new leader well and wanted to know what he would say.

“He honors his father,” Jemimah translated. “And he remembers his brother.”

That was typical of Khaled, to speak of others first.

“He is explaining that while the oil is there, we must be cautious. We must honor the waters that give our country its name. He has given the matter much consideration and consulted with experts in the industry.”

Olivia’s pulse beat a little faster.

“Saqat Oil will become the world leader in the next stage of the oil industry.”

She let out a long breath. That was it, then. She barely listened as Jemimah relayed the rest of Khaled’s speech. He had taken her idea and he was going to make it work. This would be the future for Saqat—wealth without exploitation. Khaled would steer the new company with a long-term vision for the people and the place he loved.

Tuning back in, she heard him talk about investment, education—the university he’d spoken to her about, developing new expertise that could be exported, just as their oil would be.

As Khaled finished outlining his plans, he paused. One person began to clap, then another. Then the whole room was clapping, even cheering. Jemimah caught Olivia’s hand.

“Oil,” she said, eyes bright. “Oil in Saqat. It will change everything.”

It would. It had already changed Olivia. The career-driven, cool-headed businesswoman she had once thought herself had given up the biggest deal of her life for the sake of the man she loved. Not to be with him, but simply so that his conscience could be clear.

“Excuse me,” she said to Jemimah. “I need some air.”

She had no idea how long she had been standing on the terrace, watching the cool white moon rise above the sea, but when Khaled appeared beside her and took hold of her wrist, it wasn’t a surprise.

“Spare me a few minutes?” he asked.

“Now?” Surely he had plenty of other people to speak to at the reception?

“You’re busy?”

“No, but I assumed you would be. Shouldn’t you be inside, winning over your admirers?”

“My admirers are already won over. And those who aren’t yet can wait. I have something more important to talk about tonight.”

He led her to a bench in the terrace garden that was carefully situated to provide a clear view of the palace, and beyond it the sea.

“Saqat al Mayim,” he murmured. “The waters surround us here.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“So are you.”

Olivia’s cheeks warmed. “You mustn’t, Khaled. You are engaged.”

“Actually,” he replied casually, “that is what I needed to speak to you about. I am not.”

“Not?” She’d seen him with Aliya earlier and assumed. “But you told me that your engagement was to be announced tonight.”

“I told Jemimah to translate the announcements for you,” he said with some frustration. “Did she not make it clear?”

Olivia reassured him. “She did. Your father has delegated his authority to you.”

“It was hard for him, but the doctors insisted. He hasn’t long left.”

“It’s hard for you as well.”

“Did she translate the other announcement?”

“Yes. Saqat Oil. Congratulations.”

“I am sorry that we will not be doing business with MCI Oil. I learned much from your company.”

She nodded. “I have learned much from your company, too.”

He laughed softly. “I did not mean that, though it is true.” He laid his hand over Olivia’s. “Aliya is a lovely girl and will no doubt make someone a very good wife. But that someone will not be me.”

What was she supposed to say to that? He’d done the right thing by Aliya, but doubtless there would be another woman, another Saqati woman who would understand the traditional expectations. A wife who would have the right ancestry, the right faith, and the right attitudes to be acceptable to his people. A woman who wouldn’t expect love from her husband, only prestige and wealth.

“Olivia.” He turned her hand over and lifted it to his mouth. Gently, he pressed a kiss into her palm.

“No, Khaled.” She couldn’t let him do that to her. She needed to make a clean break now.

“No?”

“I fly back to Aberdeen tomorrow. It’s over.”

“More over than it was yesterday?”

She pulled her hand away. “Yes. I’m sorry.”

“Why, Livvy?” He bent his head close to hers and spoke quietly.

“Your life is here now.” She shook her head. “And I’m going home. We should never have begun this. One night, it was supposed to be. A week of foolishness and fun, you said.”

“I have responsibilities. Life cannot all be foolishness.”

“I know,” she said, furiously blinking away an unwelcome tear. “Life for you is your duty, and for me, it is my career. We can’t just have fun whenever we choose. Yesterday, I… I was trying to say good-bye.”

“I see.” He moved a little further away from her on the bench. “That was quite some good-bye.”

“I’m sorry. I thought once you had decided not to sign the contract, you would understand that there would be no need for any further contact between us. You said it yourself, Khaled, I cannot be your wife and I don’t think anything else is possible between us now.”

“No further contact,” he said quietly. “You don’t want me to touch you anymore?”

“No.” She wrapped her arms tightly around herself, so that she didn’t reach out to touch him.

“I see.”

“What will happen now?” she asked a few moments later. “Does your father have another woman in mind for you?”

Khaled sighed. “I expect there will be another parade of eligible Saqati women. Dinners, parties, trips out in the royal yacht.”

“And then you will choose the one you want?”

“No.”

“No? I don’t understand.”

“I already know who I choose.”

She turned away, biting her lip fiercely to prevent sudden, unbidden, tears from flowing. Of course he did. He must know every woman in Saqat. Of course he would know who he wanted to be his wife. It made no difference who it was, since it was not going to be her. Only… it was hard knowing that the man she loved was going to marry someone else.