The Oil Tycoon and Her Sexy Sheikh (3 page)

She got up as well. “I’m sorry. Dad believes the central heating should only be used in winter.”

“And this is?”

“May. Positively spring like. Almost summer.”

He grimaced. “I should have my own woolen jumper.” He stroked a finger down the sleeve of Olivia’s scarlet sweater. “Doesn’t it scratch?”

She shrugged. “I wear a blouse underneath. And a vest.”

His dark eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure you want me thinking about what you’re wearing underneath.”

Olivia opened her mouth, but as he caught her eyes and held her gaze, the words disappeared. Now she was wondering what Khaled wore underneath his shirt and tie, and whether his skin was golden all over, and how she could warm him up.

“So, no central heating. How are you going to make sure I don’t freeze to death in my bed tonight?”

Her mind immediately followed his innuendo, but she managed to dig up a sensible answer from somewhere. “We have hot water bottles. I’ll give you a couple to keep your feet warm.”

“What about the fireplace?”

“I’m not sure how much heat you’d get from it. We don’t often light the upstairs fires.”

“I’d like to try. Where do you keep your firewood?”

Olivia took him outside to the shed where the neatly chopped wood was stacked, and showed him the piles of kindling over to one side. Khaled filled a large bucket with logs and balanced some smaller kindling on top.

“Can you find some old newspaper and matches?”

“Of course. I’ll bring them up in a minute.”

“Bring the whisky as well,” he said over his shoulder. “Two glasses.”

A few minutes later, she knocked on his door. Khaled opened it wide to let her in. He’d removed his jacket, shoes, and socks. Barefoot, hair rumpled, and dark stubble outlining his jaw, he took her breath away. Literally.

She stood her ground in the corridor. He was even more of a temptation than she’d realized.

He tilted his head in question. “You’re not coming in?”

She swallowed, remembered where she was. What she wanted from this man. “Paper. Matches. Whisky.” She shoved them into his hands.

“Only one glass?”

“I’ve had more than enough to drink tonight.”

“But you’ll come in and make sure I’m not burning your house down.”

There was a gleam of mischief in his eyes that Olivia almost responded to.

“No, I trust you not to do anything foolish.”

He quirked his lips. “Foolishness can be fun, don’t you think?”

A small, silly part of her wanted to grin and let him draw her into his bedroom and show her what sort of foolishness he had in mind, but she knew perfectly well that she couldn’t. It would be utter folly to compromise her reputation with a business associate as important as the sheikh.

“I hope you’ll sleep comfortably, Sheikh Khaled.”

“I hope so too, Ms. McInnes.” He winked.

She took a step back, and smiled uncertainly. “Well, good night.”

“Good night.” He nodded in a mockery of a formal bow. Lounging against the doorpost, he was the very image of temptation. She needed to leave. Fast. Before she did anything foolish.

…

For three days she managed to avoid spending time alone with him. Khaled and his bodyguards spent their days on the safety course, and Olivia was safely tucked away in her office at MCI Oil. Her father invited other members of the MCI board to meet the sheikh each evening, and it was easy enough to ensure that she disappeared to her room while the men were lingered over their whisky and cigars late into the night.

Today, however, Khaled had insisted she accompany him on his tour of the rig. So now they were seated beside each other in the confined space of the helicopter, his thigh pressing firmly against hers. Behind them his two bodyguards were no more than two feet away, and the same distance in front of them sat the pilot. Such a cramped space, full of other people, ought not to feel intimate, yet it did. Every time the sheikh shifted, she felt it. Whenever he craned forward to see out of the window, his arm brushed against her breast. She was near enough to detect the scent of his aftershave, subtly spicy, and utterly intoxicating.

Olivia rearranged the folders on her lap and took out a memo to study. Out of the corner of her eye she glimpsed a mocking grin on his face. He knew exactly how he affected her. She ignored him, because no matter how sexy she found Sheikh Khaled Saqat, she was here to do business with him. That was all.

Ten minutes later, the helicopter landed and Olivia practically jumped out, grateful for the salty sea air that held no hint of exotic spices or masculine sensuality. Khaled followed at a more leisurely pace.

The installation manager was waiting for them on deck. He greeted Olivia as always with a brief nod and a comment on the weather.

“Sharp day, Ms. McInnes.”

“It is that, Robbie. This is Sheikh Khaled ibn Saqat al Mayim. He would like to see everything. Sheikh Khaled, this is Robbie Grant. He’s in charge of the rig. Robbie, can we get inside? The sheikh isn’t accustomed to our cold winds.”

“I’ve been to colder places than this,” Khaled said as they climbed downstairs into the cabin.

“It’s not a competition. If you’re cold, you say so.”

Robbie was grinning at her. “That’s right, lassie, you tell him what’s what out here.”

“I’m sorry,” she said to Khaled. “I didn’t mean to sound bossy.”

“You didn’t. You sounded like a mother telling off her child.”

“That bad?”

He shook his head. “I thought it was sweet of you to care.”

How did he always make her feel there was an undercurrent to their conversations that she wasn’t in control of? She couldn’t cope with a whole day of it.

“Yes, well, Robbie will show you whatever you want to see, Sheikh Khaled.”

He shook his head slowly at her. “You worked on this rig, didn’t you?”

“For a few months, yes.”

“Then you can show me, if that’s all right with Mr. Grant.”

Robbie held out his hands. “Of course. The lassie knows the rig as well as any of the men.”

“Well, then.” There was challenge in his eyes.

“Fine.” What the client wanted, the client got. “Is there anything you’d like to ask Robbie first?”

The sheikh directed one of his most charming smiles at the manager. “Do you enjoy working here?”

Robbie made a very Scottish noise of disgust, an earthy sound rolling from the back of his throat.

Olivia laughed, despite her annoyance. “You can tell him how much you hate it, Robbie. I won’t listen.”

“No one enjoys working on the rigs, sir.”

“So why do you do it?”

A slow humor grew in Robbie’s expression. “It has what you might call fringe benefits.”

“Enlighten me.”

“Six weeks away from the wife.”

“You’re married?” Khaled looked surprised.

“Aye, I am that.”

“Doesn’t your wife mind you working on the rig?”

He shrugged. “There are benefits for her, too.”

“He means the money,” Olivia said. “Rig work pays well.”

“She has time to spend it while I come here to earn it.”

“Ah, I see. Tell me about the work itself, though. Why don’t you enjoy it?”

Olivia stuck her hands on her hips, and grinned at Robbie.

“Oh, you’re a coorse wee lassie.” But he turned to Khaled and shrugged. “I get seasick.”

He laughed. “Seasick? On a
rig
?”

“Aye.” Robbie was red and embarrassed. “I thought you were here to show the sheikh the rig, not drag out all my secrets,” he said to Olivia.

“I know worse secrets than that.”

“And I don’t need to know any of them,” Khaled said. “Perhaps we should begin the tour?”

“Of course. Shall we start in the heads?”

“Only if you have particularly noteworthy toilet facilities. I’d be more interested in the staff quarters.”

“How did you know?”

“Marine biologist, remember. I’ve been on my fair share of ships.”

She should have thought of that. And she should stop taking cheap digs at him. That was hardly professional.

“Of course. I’m sorry.”

She took him around the staff quarters, showed him the lifeboats, and the well deck. They ended up in the control room where Olivia let Khaled interview one of the engineers about the various safety procedures they implemented. Olivia leaned back against a steel pillar and watched. She didn’t need to listen to guess what questions Khaled would ask—she knew his priorities and concerns well enough by now—which meant she was free to indulge herself by studying Khaled as closely as she wanted.

His hands, as always, caught her attention first, with their decisive gestures and latent strength. He was pointing out something on the computer screen, looking across at the engineer for confirmation, then smiling broadly.

Olivia’s heart jumped a little when he smiled. Warm, open, and honest, he managed to convey an infectious sense of happiness with the world. Strange how that particular combination of white teeth, sensuous lips, and deeply carved creases around his mouth and eyes could create such a magnetic field of joy. It was working now, not only on Olivia, but on the engineer, too. He responded to Khaled’s smile with his own, making a small joke, laughing slightly.

They moved on to the next machine, turning their backs to Olivia. For a brief moment, Khaled looked back over his shoulder. She thought he was going to wink at her, but instead his gaze held hers so strongly she couldn’t breathe. Like an iron filing drawn to its magnet, Olivia began to move in his direction, but Khaled shook his head and turned away to listen to the engineer.

She was breathing fast, as though she had been running. Under her fingers the pulse in her wrist was racing. How did he do that to her? One look—two seconds, maximum—and she had melted into a spineless pool of desire. He continued to listen politely to the engineer, and even managed to ask an intelligent question or two about the rig. Yet Olivia could see the tension in his spine and the sharp grip of his hand around the rail that showed just how hard he was working to keep control of himself. She affected him as strongly as he did her.

Olivia could bear it no longer. She couldn’t be in the same room as him and not touch him. She excused herself, made a brief trip to the loo, and then climbed the stairs back up to the flight deck. She gulped at the fresh air, heading toward the railing at the edge of the deck to look out over the sea. It was freezing as always out on the North Sea, but the day was clear, and the gray waters were visible for miles.

“It’s cold up here.”

She shivered involuntarily at the sound of Khaled’s incongruously warm, honeyed voice. He came up behind her and placed his jacket around her shoulders. She closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of him.

“I’ve ordered the pilot to be ready in ten minutes.” He moved even closer behind her and reached out to grasp the rail, one hand on either side of her, trapping her. There was an inch, maybe two, between her back and his chest. It took every ounce of her willpower not to lean back into him and let him hold her.

“So soon? But you’ve only seen half the rig.” Olivia’s protest was half-hearted at best.

“I’ve seen enough. And you’re cold.”

“No,” she said, though it wasn’t true. She was cold, even with his warmth surrounding her. “I don’t mind that.”

“I do. It makes me want to warm you.”

“Khaled,” she began, not knowing how to finish her sentence.

“Well?”

She turned around inside the circle of his arms and tilted her head back to look at him. His eyes, dark and fiercely tender, confirmed his words, spoken and unspoken.

He wanted her. And she wanted him. Desperately.

Chapter Three

“I didn’t think you were allowed out without your bodyguards.”

He’d persuaded her to take another day out of the office. He said he wanted to see Straer Island for himself and suggested that she might learn something from it as well. Khaled had arranged to hire a small motorboat, and Olivia was surprised to find it was only the two of them on board.

He grimaced and jerked his head over his shoulder. “Following at a distance.” She looked back where he indicated and saw another boat being made ready to take the guards on board.

“Are you ever allowed out without them?” She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be constantly under supervision, even if it was for her own protection. She would hate to have someone else following her, invading her privacy.

“Not really. When I’m doing fieldwork, it’s more relaxed. There aren’t too many potential assassins in the Antarctic.” He winked at her. “And if I’m on a yacht, then everyone has to crew, including the guards.”

“Including you?”

“Even including you, Ms. McInnes.” He nodded at the mooring rope behind her. “You can cast off now.”

He steered the motorboat as confidently as he drove a car. It was a pleasure watching him take the helm, all the tension seeping from his muscular frame as he relaxed into his natural element. He’d dressed casually for the day, in canvas trousers rolled up at the ankle, and old, battered boat shoes. His faded green sweatshirt was pushed up to his elbows, giving her a glimpse of those delectable forearms. It was clear that Khaled was completely at ease as he negotiated their way out of the busy harbor.

Once they were out on the open water, he turned and shot Olivia a grin. Boyish and carefree. Dangerously charming.

“Want to try?”

She shook her head, but got to her feet and went to stand by him at the helm.

“You love it out here on the water, don’t you?”

He smiled again. “I always have. I used to sneak out when I was a kid and go swimming and snorkeling. I had my first dinghy when I was six years old.”

“Good job you didn’t grow up on the North Sea coast.”

“There are plenty of boats here. It’s not so much fun for swimming, though.”

“Wetsuits. No bikinis.”

“You brought a wetsuit?” His eyes widened comically.

She laughed. “No. I’m not planning to swim. Are you?”

“Not today. We can see everything we need to without getting wet.”

“What exactly are you expecting to see?”

Khaled grinned again. “I was hoping to see you in a wetsuit. Or a bikini. Preferably a bikini.”