The Oil Tycoon and Her Sexy Sheikh (8 page)

“I can do that, if it is necessary,” Jemimah assured her. “But I was thinking of taking you to meet my cousin, Sadiah, and her English is very good.”

“That will make it easier, thank you. What does Sadiah do?”

Jemimah beamed proudly. “She is a radio producer and she also presents her own show. Everyone listens to Sadiah’s show.”

“What does she talk about in the show?”

“Everything!” Jemimah said with a grin. “Everything that women would be interested in.”

“Clothes? Makeup? Men?”

Jemimah laughed. “No. Well, sometimes, I suppose, but more important things than that. She talks to them about contraception and infertility, and other health problems that women have. She tells them where they can get education. She explains how to set up a business. She discusses books and suggests what people should be reading.”

“That sounds amazing. You say all the women listen to this?”

“Yes. Many men also. The radio is the best way for them to hear news and information.”

“Aren’t there newspapers? TV channels?”

“Both, but the newspapers are expensive and not everyone can read,” Jemimah said. “The television channels are good, but only available in the cities. Radio is the most effective communication at the moment. The emir plans to expand the network so that everyone is able to receive both television and Internet, but it will take a while before it will happen.”

Olivia nodded. That was something that the wealth of oil could change. Communication ought to be the right of every citizen, but of course it would be difficult to achieve in a nation like Saqat with vast swaths of uninhabitable land interrupted by tiny pockets of civilization.

“I would like to meet her very much. When can you arrange it?”

“This afternoon, if you want. Sadiah finishes work at four o’clock. If you don’t mind her sons being there, we can go to her house then.”

…

Olivia was still smiling when she returned to the palace with Jemimah. She didn’t have any nieces or nephews, and she’d never spent time with young children. Sadiah’s boys were delightful. Aged five and seven, they had been intrigued by Olivia and continually peppered their conversation with questions, demanding to know what sort of animals lived in Scotland, and how many times she had flown in a helicopter. Sadiah explained that her husband was in the marine rescue service as a helicopter pilot, hence the boys’ obsession, and also their disappointment that Olivia had been on more helicopter rides than they had.

Olivia and Jemimah stayed for the boys’ tea, a messy affair consisting of a rice dish followed by some fresh fruit and chocolate buttons.

The visit had been exhausting, but a lot more fun than she had expected. While the children ate, she chatted with Sadiah. She had warmed instantly to the other woman, and when Sadiah invited her to be interviewed on the radio show, she had wanted to say yes, but knew she would have to confer with Khaled. She’d emailed him as soon as she got back to the palace asking to see him.

Now, she poured herself a cool drink and collapsed onto the sofa with her laptop, still smiling as she recalled her visit.

“You wanted to see me?”

Olivia had been expecting an email confirming an appointment. She wasn’t prepared for Khaled to simply knock on her door and walk into her suite. She got hurriedly to her feet, embarrassingly conscious of her own cheap T-shirt and crumpled linen skirt, now liberally stained with chocolate after an encounter with one of Sadiah’s enthusiastic boys.

“Yes. Thank you for coming.”

“I’ve only got half an hour,” he said hastily. “I’m supposed to go to a dinner this evening.” He was already dressed in formal white robes that made him appear magnificently mysterious and unapproachable.

“With your fiancée?” Olivia asked, before she could stop herself.

Khaled’s expression iced over. “With her family. And I am not yet formally betrothed to her.”

“Of course. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. That wasn’t what I wanted to talk to you about, anyway.”

Olivia sat down where she had been working, and Khaled took a seat as far away from her as possible.

“So what did you want to talk to me about?” His voice was cold and his body language sent out warning signals, but his eyes were soft and warm when they rested on her.

Olivia took this as a hopeful sign and plunged in. “Jemimah took me to meet her cousin Sadiah today.”

“I imagine you would get on well with her.”

She hadn’t expected that. “You know her?”

“No, I’ve never met her, but I listen to her show occasionally. She’s an impressive woman.”

“Yes. I liked her. She asked if I would be a guest on her show.” She didn’t tell Khaled that Sadiah had said it was a series on inspirational women. It was nonsense to imagine that she was an inspiration to anyone. But she was a businesswoman and an engineer, and Sadiah had told her there weren’t many women in those kinds of jobs in Saqat.

Khaled’s eyebrows rose. “What did you say?”

“I said I would need to check.” It wasn’t her place to talk about oil in Saqat until a public announcement had been made.

Khaled frowned. “I don’t know, Olivia. Simply knowing your name might be enough to connect you to MCI Oil.”

“And the last thing you want is for everyone to know about the oil until a decision has been formally made. I understand. How about if Sadiah gives me an Arabic name? Sort of a translation? She’ll be conducting the interview in Arabic anyway, and Jemimah will translate my answers.”

“You really want to do this.” Khaled looked at her in amazement.

“Yes, I do.”

“Why?”

Olivia shrugged. “I liked Sadiah and what she is trying to do with her radio show. Women deserve to have high hopes and ambitions. If my interview inspires some of the little girls in Saqat to become engineers and businesswomen, then it will have been worth coming here, no matter what happens to the contract.”

Khaled nodded slowly. “Yes, of course. Well, then you should do the interview.”

“Sadiah emailed a list of questions. Do you want to check them in case there are any you would rather she didn’t ask?”

“No, I trust your judgment.”

Their eyes met, just for a moment, and Olivia’s heart began to pound.

“Thank you,” she managed to say.

“So, are you enjoying your time here?” It might sound like polite conversation, but Olivia wasn’t fooled. His mouth was asking if she was enjoying her time in Saqat, but his eyes demanded to know whether she was missing him.

“It’s wonderful,” she said, hoping he would hear what she wasn’t saying. It was harder than she had anticipated knowing that Khaled was nearby and being unable to see him.

“Good. That’s good.” He lifted a hand halfway to her, then dropped it before they touched.
“
I don’t know if I will be able to accompany you to the research center. Jamil will find someone else to take you if you still want to go.”

“I want to go, but I would rather you took me.” She missed their long conversations late into the evening. She had grown accustomed to sharing the small triumphs and failures of each day with him.

His face was bleak. “I can’t promise anything, but I will try.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.”

She wanted to cup her hand to his face. He needed comfort, and she hated that she wasn’t allowed to offer it. She clenched her hands by her side.

“Jamil has scheduled a meeting for us on Thursday morning,” he said after a pause.

“Yes. I’ve made some amendments that I think will make the contract more acceptable to you. We’ll need to talk about those.”

“Fine. Do you have everything you need to work?”

She hoped he had somebody here in Saqat to whom he could turn for support. A friend. A cousin. His secretary, perhaps. Someone who had known him for years and could push past the icily polite barriers of protocol.

But there was nothing she could do. “Yes, thank you. Jemimah has been most helpful.”

“I must go.” He stood up, ending their unspoken conversation as he turned toward the door. Olivia followed him.

“Khaled…” She reached out a hand.

“Livvy…” He turned back in the same moment.

Khaled shook his head and Olivia let her hand drop.

“I hope your interview goes well,” he said. “I’ll make sure to tune in.”

“Thank you. I’ll see you on Thursday.”

He stopped in the doorway and turned back to look at her. “She’s not my fiancée.”

Olivia nodded. “But she will be.”

The barriers dropped for an instant, and she caught a glimpse of the fear and fatigue beneath. “I don’t know, Livvy. I don’t know if I can do it.”

She knew it wasn’t allowed, but she did it anyway. She reached out to touch his arm and stepped close to look directly into his weary face. “You’ll do the right thing, Khaled. I know you will.”

He opened his mouth to speak but must have thought better of it. He nodded briefly and walked away. Holding her arms tight around her body, she watched him go, as if she could hold on to his warmth.

Chapter Seven

Khaled switched on the radio to listen to Olivia’s interview as he worked. He told himself he needed to make sure she didn’t let anything slip about the deal with MCI. The calming tones of her soft, Scottish accent were merely a bonus. Sadiah was introducing her now as a British engineer and businesswoman. No mention of the company, nothing about the oil, just as they had agreed. The presenter greeted Olivia in Arabic, but instead of the translated response Khaled was expecting to hear, Olivia carefully sounded out her own reply:

“
Shukran. Ana Aasifah ma bihki Saqati.
” Thanks and an apology for her inability to speak the language. Her pronunciation was far from perfect, but he was touched that she had made the effort. He couldn’t help but be impressed at the interest Olivia had shown in his country. He’d expected her to spend her days at the palace, closeted in meetings with his councillors, or perhaps developing useful contacts with local businessmen. Instead, she had visited the souk, the mosque, and now the radio station. She couldn’t have chosen better places to understand the Saqati culture.

Sadiah replied to Olivia’s apology in rapid Arabic and this time her question was relayed in English. “At what age did you decide what career you wanted?”

“I’ve always wanted to work with my father,” Olivia said. “He has no sons, and so from a very young age I knew that I would inherit his business. When I began to understand what that meant, I decided I wanted to be more than a silent shareholder, so I worked hard to prove that I could do the job as well as any son could have done. I chose to study subjects that would be relevant to the business, and then I worked my way up through the company.”

Khaled grimaced. Oliver McInnes would have been a difficult role model for any child, but as a widowed parent to an only daughter he’d set a virtually impossible standard for Olivia to reach. She didn’t see it like that, of course. She’d simply turned her mind to the task and worked at it until she succeeded. There was no question that she was as good as any son could have been. She was better.

He listened to her explaining her education choices. Engineering hadn’t been an easy path for a woman to take, but Olivia had excelled. She’d worked in all sorts of challenging environments and learned how to earn the respect of her male colleagues. Sadiah asked whether Olivia felt she had to be better than the men she worked with. Olivia laughed.

“Oh, yes. I’ve been the token woman at more interviews than I can remember. They start the day with every intention of hiring one of the men, so it’s my job to give them no choice but to hire me. It’s the same once you’ve got the job. The guys are always watching me, waiting for me to make a mistake. Often they’re too busy watching me to keep an eye on their own job and that’s when they slip up. I find that once that’s happened, it’s easier to establish a more equal working relationship.”

He remembered seeing her in action on the rig. The men there all respected her and he’d bet that she’d had to work hard to earn that when she first started.

Finally, Sadiah concluded her interview. “What advice would you give to the women listening today?”

There was a pause before Olivia answered. “Don’t let anyone take your dreams away from you. Know what you want in life and do everything in your power to make it happen.”

Khaled’s mouth twisted. He switched off the radio and stared at the pile of papers that Jamil had left on his desk. He still had so much to learn about Saqat. There were so many things his father had done that Khaled had taken for granted. These weren’t his dreams. He longed for his tiny office back at the museum where he could set the agenda for his own research. He’d hoped to lead a field team out to Australia next year. No hope for that now. No one had deliberately taken Khaled’s dreams away from him, but circumstances had worked out that way, and there was nothing to be done about it.

He pushed the papers aside and pulled out the MCI contract. This was one thing he could do. If he couldn’t have his own dreams, he could at least make sure Olivia achieved hers. Tomorrow he had a meeting with her, and he was determined to find a way to make it work. She’d already told him about her plans for increased safety measures and crisis management. Khaled had some more suggestions for minimizing the environmental impact of the rigs. He was sure she would agree to whatever he wanted. There would still be compromises, but together they would find a way through them. MCI Oil would always need to maximize its profits for the sake of its shareholders, and Khaled would always prefer not to take any risks in the Saqat waters, but they weren’t living in a utopian idyll where they could both get exactly what they wanted. They had to deal with the tough choices forced on them by reality.

…

Jamil knocked lightly on the door to Khaled’s private office.

“Come in.”

“Ms. McInnes to see you, sir.”

He was sitting behind a vast desk, piled high with files and papers, much like his office in the Natural History Museum had been. He smiled ruefully at Olivia. “It doesn’t seem to matter how much space I have to work in, I always fill it.”

“Do you know where everything is?”

“More or less. Have a seat.”

She moved a pile of papers off the nearest available chair and sat down. Khaled offered her some coffee. He poured them both a cup, then walked round to lean against his desk.

“I enjoyed your visit to the radio show.”

Olivia smiled. “So did I.”

“I hope lots of Saqati women were inspired by it. There are no laws in Saqat that could prevent a woman from doing the sort of job you do, but still we have very few women working in such roles.”

“Why not?”

He thought about it for a moment. “I suppose because social pressures are much harder to change than the laws. I can’t make women apply for jobs or go to university, and there are a lot of people who still believe that women don’t need as much education as men because they will spend their lives at home, bringing up the children.”

“There are people everywhere who think that. Most of them are men.”

He nodded, acknowledging the point. “We’ll need teachers who will show our children that it’s not true. We’ve a long way still to go.”

“Your wife could also set an example.”

“Aliya is an educated woman. She hopes to establish her own business. A fashion boutique.”

“I see.” That didn’t sound likely to inspire Saqati women to great endeavors. “Sadiah is wonderful.”

“She is. She’s a real inspiration. Not just to the women, either. A lot of men listen to her show.”

“You know, the one thing that would help to change things most for the women in your country would be economic growth.”

“I know.”

“More money means more jobs, more jobs require more education. For everyone.”

He sighed. “Come on, let’s see what we can do about it.”

He cleared a space on his desk and brought out the contract. She moved her chair nearer and they both pored over it. “Here,” he said pointing at a line. “We need to specify exactly what provisions should be made in case of an endangered species discovered near the rig.”

Olivia nodded and listened to his suggestions, then made a few of her own. Together they worked section by section through the entire document. Eventually, Khaled leaned back in his chair and looked at her.

“That’s it,” he said. “We’ll get it written up with all the amendments. And then I’ll sign it.”

She drew in a long breath. She’d done it. He was going to sign. “You’re sure?”

He shrugged. “I’ve been impressed with everything I’ve seen of your company. And you were right, my people do deserve this.”

“Yes.”

“And…” His lips twisted ruefully. “I want to do it for you. To give you your dream.”

Her mouth went dry. He was doing this for her?

“You deserve it, Livvy. You’re brilliant and your father is a fool for not realizing it years ago.
You
won this contract, and I’ll make sure he knows it.”

She took a deep breath. She ought to say yes. She wanted this contract, she wanted the job. She wanted Khaled, but she couldn’t have him.

It felt as if the contract was a consolation prize. He was offering her this like some men gave their girlfriends jewelry to say good-bye. Olivia wouldn’t have a necklace or a pair of earrings to remember Khaled by—she’d have an oil rig in the Persian Gulf.

“You have to do it for the right reasons, Khaled.”

His mouth twisted. “I know why I’m doing it.”

“What does your father say?”

“He says it is my decision. He is not well enough to think about it any further.”

“I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head. “It is not your fault.

Olivia swallowed hard, unsure why she was suddenly overcome with emotion. Khaled’s voice was weary and his eyes were hooded. She stood and held out her hand to him, to shake on their agreement, but he ignored her hand and put his arms around her waist.

“Khaled?”

“I know it’s not allowed. I just… I need you, Livvy.” He rested his head on her shoulder and pulled her closer.

“I’m here,” she murmured. “I’m here. It’s going to be okay.”

“It’s my father. He’s getting worse.”

She held him tighter. “How bad is it?”

“I don’t know. The doctors won’t say how long, but he’s getting weaker every day. They say there’s no pain.”

“That’s good.”

“Yes.” He sighed. “Yes, it is.”

“What’s the matter, Khaled?”

He closed his eyes. “I’m so scared. He’s going to die and I… I don’t know what I’m doing. I should have been here. All those years in London, I should have been here, with him, helping him, learning from him.”

“You can’t blame yourself,” she told him earnestly. “Your father agreed. He knew your work was important.”

“Djalil would have been here.”

“You’re not your brother.”

“I know. That’s the problem.”

Her heart broke for him. “You’re tired, Khaled, and worried for your father. There’s been a lot to take on board in the last couple of weeks. You need a break.”

“I can’t.”

“Not even a visit to the research center? Couldn’t we take a day, just the two of us, and drive out there? You could show me a dugong.”

He managed a smile at that. “I could, but you’ll be disappointed.”

“Never.”

“I can only take a day. We’ll have to leave early. It’s too far to travel there and back in one day, really, but I’d rather not stay overnight.”

“I understand. It’ll be cooler if we’re not driving during the middle of the day.”

“Yes. Very well, I’ll tell Jamil to make the arrangements.”

“Good.” Still encircled in his arms, she looked up at him. “Better now?”

He dropped a light kiss on her cheek. “Yes. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Khaled let her go. “I’ll see you early on Saturday, then.”

“Great.”

“And Olivia?”

She turned back to see him grinning at her. “Yes?”

“Don’t forget your bikini.”

…

Khaled was wearing jeans. Old faded jeans that were perfectly molded around his muscular, lean legs. Jeans that dared Olivia to reach out and touch them and feel their buttery softness for herself.

Not fair
, her brain screamed.

It was one thing to have to resist Khaled while he wore his Western-style business suits or his crisp white robes of state. It was quite another to resist him in jeans.

“Ready to go?” He pushed his shades back onto his head and smiled warmly at Olivia.

She nodded. He led her out to the Jeep, but it was no better sitting in the passenger seat where she was acutely aware of every shift of his muscles beneath the denim when he shifted gears or slammed on the brakes. In fact, it was much worse. Sitting this close to Khaled, she couldn’t help but breathe in the deep seductive scent of him. In desperation, Olivia turned away and determinedly stared out at the landscape they were speeding through.

The drive out to the research center was stunning, so Olivia had plenty else to look at. The road followed the old coastal path, with gently sloping platinum white sand dunes and beaches to the right, and richly luxuriant olive groves and palm trees to the left. Occasionally, they passed a small settlement with half a dozen or so houses, a few goats and chickens, and always a motley collection of small children with wide, staring eyes. Khaled took the time to stop at each hamlet to wave and speak to the children. He had brought several bags of small honeyed cakes to hand out to them. Olivia had no idea what he was saying as he passed the treats round to the children, but it was easy to see that he was putting them at ease, making them smile and laugh, just as he had with the children in Saqat City. He would make a good father one day.

After they had been on the road for nearly three hours, Khaled pulled the Jeep to a halt under the dappled shade of a large palm tree.

“What’s the matter?” She looked across at him in surprise.

“Breakfast,” he said. “I’m hungry.”

As soon as he said it, Olivia realized that she was too. “You brought food?”

“Of course. Wait there.”

He produced plastic tubs of delicately spiced rice and vegetable biryani, and a pile of flatbreads wrapped in a cloth. Olivia tore off a piece of bread and used it to scoop up the biryani.

“Delicious.”

“This is what I miss,” Khaled said, helping himself liberally to the food. There was something curiously intimate about the way they were both eating from the same dish, without cutlery.

“You can get decent curries in London, surely.”

He shook his head. “Indian curries, yes. Pakistani, Bangladeshi, yes. But Arab food is different. I’d know a Saqati biryani anywhere.”

Olivia took another mouthful, letting the tastes separate and mingle on her tongue. “Cinnamon?” she queried.

“Of course. With rose water, oranges, and dates for sweetness.” Khaled ripped off another piece of bread, loaded it with the biryani, and passed it to Olivia.

The more she ate, the more she appreciated the depths of the flavors. “It’s spicy without being hot.”

“No chilies. No cayenne. We like to savor our food here.”