The Sheikh's Secret Heir. KRISTI GOLD
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you have no problem having your face splashed across financial publications. And yes, I’ve seen a few of those covers featuring your smiling face.”
He briefly wondered if perhaps someone in the royal family had known of his existence prior to their introduction. “Where did you come by this knowledge?”
“The internet. I did some research before you visited the palace the first time.”
“An order from the king?”
“No. I took the initiative on my own. I make a point to learn about guests of the royal family.”
He relaxed somewhat. “What else do you know about my life?”
She shrugged. “Not all that much, other than you’re in the top fifteen on the list of the wealthiest men in the world.”
“Top ten.”
“Forgive me for my ignorance. I also know that you are somewhat of a philanthropist. I read an article where you opened an orphanage in Mexico City a while back.”
A pet project he had felt compelled to complete for personal reasons. “There was a need, and I had the means to fulfill that need.”
“I’m sure the tax write-off doesn’t hurt.”
He bristled at her continual questioning of his motives. “I have global holdings in several countries with varying tax structures. I assure you that compassion, not company write-offs, drives my charitable efforts.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, sounding somewhat contrite. “I tend to be wary of men with an overabundance of money.”
“Why is that?”
“Personal reasons.”
He suspected he knew what those reasons might be. “Who was he?”
“I don’t understand what you’re asking.”
The way she shifted in her seat and looked away indicated she chose to be evasive, confirming his conjecture. “Who was the wealthy man who broke your heart?”
“What makes you think this has anything to do with a man?”
“I can sense these things.”
She sighed, then hid a yawn behind her hand. “Yes, my attitude stems from a former relationship. Actually, he was my fiancé. And if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not discuss it. I didn’t sleep well last night and I’d like to take a nap.”
He vowed to revisit the topic at a later time. “We have still have hours before we arrive in Cyprus. That should give you ample time to rest. You will find the sleeping quarters at the rear of the plane.”
“I really don’t need a bed to take a nap. I’ll be fine right here.”
He could think of more favorable ways to use the onboard bed. “If you are concerned that I might attempt to join you, put your mind at ease. I do not require any sleep.”
“I highly doubt you’d want to join me to sleep.”
He returned her unexpected smile. “You know me well.”
“Not as well as I hope to know you before the end of this trip.”
Though he found her comment somewhat curious, he decided not to assume too much. “If you’re determined to refuse the offer of my bed, push the button on the right arm to release the footrest. The one to your left will recline the back.”
After complying, Kira stretched out, turned on her side and closed her eyes. “Wake me up in thirty minutes.”
Tarek finished off the wine and poured another glass as an afterthought. Rarely did he imbibe aside from the occasional social setting due to his need to remain in absolute control. Yet as he returned to his seat, he acknowledged the woman before him was as intoxicating as a shot of straight Russian vodka. In sleep, she looked innocent, yet he had experienced anything but innocence during their interlude. She had been a willing lover, exciting and experimental. Remembering those blissful moments now prompted a building pressure in his groin, causing him to bring his attention back to Kira.
With her upturned nose and the delicate line of her jaw, he saw little that indicated she would hail from Bajul, aside from the slightly golden color of her skin. Evidently her mother’s Canadian roots had taken genetic precedence over her father’s Middle Eastern heritage. Regardless, her beauty could not be denied and he had given up on doing that very thing.
During this adventure, he did hope to find out more about her, including the details of the miscreant who had emotionally destroyed her and filled her with distrust. More important, he needed to prove he was not the kind of man to fill a woman with false promises. Eventually he might take a wife and settle down, but not until he achieved his ultimate goal of building more wealth and power. Enough wealth and power to match the Mehdis. What better way to exact revenge for his denied birthright?
* * *
Kira awoke long enough to depart the plane that had been secured in a private hangar, only to enter an extravagant black limousine and drift off once again en route to Tarek’s Cyprus home. She came back into consciousness a while later, mortified to discover her cheek resting on his shoulder. Had she snored? Drooled? Hopefully none of the above.
After straightening and scooting over, Kira adjusted the hem of her white pencil skirt, which had climbed up her thighs to a point that bordered on indecency. “I’m sorry,” she muttered as the car navigated the drive. “I guess I needed more sleep than I realized.”
“No apology necessary,” he replied as the limo came to a stop. “I enjoyed having you so close. Granted, I was somewhat concerned that I might have to carry you into the house, although that would not have been a great burden.”
Maybe not a burden for him, but a total embarrassment for her. “I’ll endeavor to stay awake for the remainder of the evening.”
When the driver opened the door, Kira realized the sun had already begun to set, yet enough light existed to witness the grandeur of the white, expansive estate with manicured tropical gardens and a four-car garage. She accepted Tarek’s offered hand as he helped her out of the car and followed him silently up the stone path. A man dressed in a white suit greeted them on the front porch, then opened the heavy wooden double doors wide. “Welcome back, Mr. Azzmar.”
“It is good to be back, Alexios,” he replied. “Please see to it that Ms. Darzin’s luggage is delivered to her quarters immediately.”
“As you wish, sir,” the man said with a nod before making his way to the car.
Tarek turned to Kira and gestured toward the open doors. “After you.”
When Kira stepped inside the foyer, she was taken aback by the ultramodern décor that directly contrasted with Tarek’s newly built traditional mansion in Bajul. White and steel-gray leather sofas and chairs, accented with black and turquoise pillows, were set about the massive living room, accompanied by several tables comprised of glass and chrome. An enormous curved television hung above a fireplace surrounded by gray glass tile. Yet the most impressive sight lay beyond the open glass wall that revealed the panoramic view of the blue backlit pool, centered between two stone walls, and the Mediterranean Sea, which stretched out as far as the eye could see.
“Amazing,” Kira said. “An absolute paradise.”
“I am pleased that you are pleased,” Tarek replied from behind her.
Pleasure wasn’t her goal, a fact she had to remember before she let the atmosphere cloud her common sense. “I’m ready to work when you are,” she said as she faced him.
“Tonight we will relax and simply enjoy each other’s company.”
That could involve going somewhere she didn’t want to go. Correction. She shouldn’t go. “I slept the entire trip, Tarek. I have no problem getting started on my duties.”