The Sheikh's Offer (11 page)

“May I have some of the raki, please?”

Daisy was a little dismayed when the smiling server poured her what looked like an enormous glass of the milky liquid. She took it, feeling less certain by the moment. When she saw the man smiling at her out of the corner of her eye, however, she felt even more determined.

Bracing herself, she took a careful sip. She just barely managed to keep herself from coughing at the rough burn. The licorice flavor was unmistakable, and it scourged her throat.

“How is it?” asked her companion with interest.

“Fine, it's good,” she said. She was proud that she managed to keep her voice relatively level.

“Good. Perhaps when your sister is helping you with your clothes tonight, you will remember to put in a good word for me.”

Daisy frowned. For a moment, she had no idea what he was talking about, but then she flushed.

“You were standing behind Khilafa earlier,” she sputtered. “You saw...”

“Less than I would like,” he told her with a sly note to his voice.

If Daisy hadn't been convinced that the alcohol being served was of the best quality, she would have liked to dash it in his face. Lia was practically the queen of the country, she could probably smooth over any trouble that might have caused.

Instead, she took a deep breath, gathering what was left of her dignity.

“Thank you for your help,” she said. “I'm afraid I must be off now.”

The man looked like he wanted to protest, but then a woman materialized out of the crowd. Like him, she wore Western garb, a sleek gown in vibrant blue with golden stitching along the seams. There were diamonds at her throat and her ears and venom in her eyes. For just a moment, those eyes set on Daisy, causing the young woman to shiver instinctively.

The man looked faintly irritated, and that look became even darker when she set a hand on the crook of his elbow.

It was all the chance that Daisy needed. She had had plenty of experience fading into the background when she could. She melted away into the crowd like a shadow, still clutching her drink. When she glanced back, she could see the man and woman standing closely together.

Are they married
, she wondered indignantly. If she was married, she wouldn't want her husband giving beverage advice to confused women.

Something about the whole scene gave her a pang, however. He had teased her, mocked her, and perhaps propositioned her, but she couldn't deny that there was something powerfully magnetic about him. As she walked through the crowd, his dark eyes haunted her.

She realized she was still holding her glass of raki. The second sip still burned, but she thought that it was a little less painful. The third sip was even smoother.

It's not so bad,
she said to herself.
I'm here for a party, and after tonight, I'll hang out with Lia for a bit, and then it'll be back to Albany for me...

 
***

The gardens outside the ballroom were dark and lush. She could hear some faint footsteps, some soft words. They told her that she did not walk alone. She had almost finished the glass of raki. Daisy felt obscurely proud of herself. She knew that the alcohol was powerful, but still, she had managed it.

She could feel it making her soft and warm inside. Unless she was very careful where she put her feet, she would have stumbled. The crush of the ballroom had seemed too much, so she had found refuge in the dark gardens. All around her were the scents of jasmine and gardenias and other exotic flowers for which she had no names.

Samara was so beautiful that it made her hurt. She loved the palace, the way it seemed to cradle all of the people within. It was the perfect setting for Khilafa and Lia, who glowed like gods come to earth. Watching them dance together had been enthralling.

“You look pensive, little one.”

The voice came from the darkness beside her, and for some reason, that didn't even seem strange to her.

“Maybe a little,” she said with a smile. “I... It's so beautiful here. It's amazing, all of the history that Samara holds.”

“Oh? Are you an art buyer like your sister to speak so of beauty?”

Daisy laughed. “Oh no, not me. Well, I guess I know a little because Lia's my sister, but no, I'm an interior decorator.”

“Ah, so you are in the business of beauty yourself.”

“Maybe... I tend to think of it as making homes?”

“Oh?”

Most people weren't actually that interested in why she did her work as long as they liked the look of their new homes. Perhaps the speaker from the darkness wasn't interested either, but the raki made her brave.

“Yes. We all need places to live, and so many people just...choose to accept whatever they get. I think that every home should reflect and enhance the people living there. Your home should be a part of you, and you should be a part of your home. That is what I do.”

“Your home must be a beautiful place, then.”

Daisy's laugh was self-deprecating. “I don't know about that. Sometimes, it feels as if I'm so busy building a home that I never think of what I want in one. Something I do for all my clients is that I get to know them. I want their home to be real to them, you know? Maybe I just don't know myself well enough to create a place that suits me.”

“That sounds sad.”

“Maybe it is. All I know is how to make homes for other people. I guess that is a little sad. But they are very beautiful homes.”

There was a soft chuckle, rich and smooth as chocolate. It warmed her up from the toes.

“I'm sure you do.”

“I really do. I always want my clients to have the best.”

The weariness from her long trip and the exhaustion from the party were beginning to wear on her. She felt herself waver on her feet a little. Suddenly, there was a strong arm around her.

“Hey, I don't-”

“Shh, little one. I'm safe, and so are you. You simply look a little...worn out.”

“I am,” she said, the alcohol loosening her tongue more than she would have guessed. “I could sleep for days.”

“Well, we'll see about getting you to bed, then, shall we?”

Daisy muttered a token protest, but bed sounded lovely. She wanted to get out of her gorgeous dress, shut the door on all of the beautiful people, and dream away the rest.

“This isn't an invitation,” she said. If she were sober, she would have been horrified at her bluntness. Instead, she only saw it as appropriate. “I mean it. I don't... I don't go to bed with...with just anyone.”

Or anyone at all, but the nice voice in the darkness didn't need to know that.

“I can see that you are not like that at all,” he assured her. “Your honor is safe with me, but perhaps we should get you into bed before you fall over?”

She muttered something in affirmative. The alcohol was hitting her hard now. She drew herself up as straight as she could, which honestly wasn't very straight at all.

“Take me to my room, please,” she said, doing a credible impression of Lia.

“As my lady wishes,” was the response, and if there was a slight grin in that voice, she decided magnanimously that she would forgive it.

CHAPTER TWO

The bedroom that she had been assigned was luxurious beyond anything she could have dreamed of. The bed was an enormous four-poster with silk brocade covers, and the makeup table in the corner would have satisfied any 1930s movie star. Above, the ceiling had been painted with silvery stars that glittered in the low light.

Daisy couldn't see any of that, though. Instead, she could only see the gown that hung up on the standing mirror nearby. It was a traditional Samaran gown, with a tight bodice embroidered with sequins and swirling silk thread patterns. Even in the dim light of the room, the olive gown glimmered with a beauty that could not be hidden.

Daisy was terrified.

Somewhere in the palace, the clock struck nine. She flinched. She should have been downstairs half an hour ago, but she had seen the dress the palace girls had left for her, and she had frozen.

I can't wear that, that's not me!
her mind insisted.
That's like something for...

As if the thought had summoned her, the door creaked open and Lia appeared.

“Oh no, Daisy, are you all right?”

Lia Gardner was a tall and willowy redhead with a face that was saved from severity only by the splatter of freckles on her nose. She wore Brooklyn street fashion and haute couture dresses with ease, but tonight, she wore the signature white and gold gown of Samaran royalty. By contrast, Daisy was shorter, rounder, and still dressed in the black sweater and long black skirt she had been wearing all day.

Lia strode into the room, turning on the lights with a brisk efficiency that Daisy could only envy. As she watched Lia examine the dress hanging off of the mirror, she felt that familiar stab of jealousy that was so common whenever she was around her older sister.

Where Lia was a sharp
yes
, Daisy had always been a hesitant
maybe.
Instead of Lia's fiery red mane, Daisy's hair was a dark chestnut, and where Lia's eyes were a flashing green, hers were a softer hazel. When Lia had flown away to exotic Samara, however, Daisy had missed her sister immensely. It seemed like a fairytale when, only a few months later, she received news that her sister had married Sheikh Khilafa Baykara, the protector of the country.

Daisy had missed the wedding, but Lia had insisted that she appear for the one month anniversary. In Samaran culture, the one month celebration was even more important than the wedding, and Lia had brooked no disagreements.

That was why Daisy had swallowed her fear of planes and come all the way to Samara. Through the long trip, she had held on to the fact that she was going to see her beloved sister again. Lia had been wrapped in a long series of preparations, rituals, and a dozen tasks, but still she had found the time to see her wayward little sister.

Leave it to Lia to appear just when I have to do something I don't want to,
thought Daisy wryly.

“Is there something wrong with the dress? I know that Samaran gowns can be a bit tricky, but this was cut to your measurements...”

“It's not that, it's just so much. There's so much going on and so many people...”

A sudden horrid thought struck Daisy.

“And, they're all here for you! Oh, Lia, I shouldn't be keeping you from everyone...”

Lia waved a careless hand. “If they think they can start without me, they're welcome to try.”

Some might have thought that it was marrying Samara's most powerful man had given Lia airs, but Daisy knew that she had always been like this. Lia knew who was important to her, and she didn't hesitate to let that be known to the rest of the world.

Lia pulled the gown off the hanger, handling it with care for the beautiful embroidery work on it. “Now tell me what's the problem, sweetheart.”

“It's just too much,” Daisy tried to articulate. “There are all those people, and they're going to be looking at me, and...and...”

“Wrong,” said Lia briskly. “They're going to be looking at me. I promise, if anyone looks at you sideways, I'll come down on them like the fist of an angry god. Now, can I help you get into this?”

Daisy's smile was small, but it was genuine. Somehow, Lia always knew what to say to make her feel better.

“Okay.”

“Good. And, the main hall is enormous, but there are lots of places for you to tuck yourself away, if you need to hide for a while.”

In a matter of seconds, Lia had Daisy stripped down to her plain white underthings and stepping into the olive gown. In the brighter light, Daisy could tell it was not one shade of green, but several. The dress was cunningly sewn so that the different shades of fabric combined into a beautiful textured whole. The part of Daisy that adored colors and textures loved the effect. The rest of her was terrified of wearing something so beautiful and obviously expensive.

“Breathe in...”

Without thinking about it, Daisy did as her sister said. When she felt Lia start to do up the bodice's buttons, she gasped.

“That's too tight!” she said.

“It's not, trust me,” Lia said patiently. “It's supposed to fit like that.”

Now that Daisy was looking, he could see that Lia's gown nipped her in at the waist and pushed her breasts up.

“All right...”

Lia was just reaching for the buttons again when the door opened.

“A one-month anniversary doesn't mean much if a man must celebrate it alone,” said Sheikh Khilafa Baykara.

“Khilafa! I will be right down, and next time, for the love of all that's good, knock! This is my sister's room!”

“Beautiful sister,” came an amused voice from behind Khilafa. There was another man there, one that Daisy couldn't see, but she still yelped, gathering up the edges of her dress and turning away. Her face was on fire.

Khilafa laughed.

“At your convenience then, beautiful women,” he said, shutting the door behind him.

“I swear, that man only plays the savage sheikh when he thinks it's funny,” Lia muttered. “Now come here, and let me take care of you. We really are a bit late.”

Daisy submitted to her sister's ministrations, her face still flaming red. She could imagine how she looked, half in and half out of a gown that was far too beautiful for her, her skin pale and doughy in the bright light.

Lia was right. The dress was comfortable once it was secured. Daisy could feel the way it made her stand up straighter. She was a little self-conscious about the way her breasts were pushed up and her hips were pushed down, but she figured there would be enough people there that she wouldn't stand out too horribly.

Lia ran a quick brush through Daisy's hair. Like Lia's, it was wavy and naturally sleek and shiny. All it took was a brush to make it glow.

“There, now you're beautiful,” Lia said approvingly. “Do you want to see what you look like in the mirror?”

“Not at all,” said Daisy. “Let's go before we're that much later.”

Lia rolled her eyes at her sister's reticence, and arm in arm, they left the room.