One Night with a Seductive Sheikh: The Sheikh's Redemption / Falling for the Sheikh She Shouldn't / The Sheikh and the Surrogate Mum. Fiona McArthur
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eyes were all gotcha when she had no ready answer.
Before she could regain ground, he changed direction. “So I understand why my uncle’s slew of successors was bypassed for the king’s position. Any reason they are now for all other positions?”
That she had an answer for. “For the same reasons you say you understand. Just as the clans’ council that formed after the king’s abdication refused to let his sons and brothers succeed him, they wouldn’t let them assume any significant roles. It was agreed the sons are too inexperienced and the brothers too same-school, and all are guided by the same entourage that damaged Azmahar.”
“And you think the bozos present here today are any better?”
“They’re here today so we can weed out the bozos.”
His lips spread. “It would be far easier to leave those in, and pick out the non-bozo types. Want my advice on how to do it?”
“No. But you’re going to blight me with it, anyway.”
His grin grew wider. “Play back the evening’s taped hoopla. Eliminate anyone who spoke out of turn or lost his temper. You’ll be left with five out of five hundred. I counted. Those are the only people I’d have in my cabinet.”
That was exactly what she’d thought, too. Damn him.
She wasn’t about to tell him that. “You’re founding a new kingdom and recruiting ministers for it?”
“Cute. But if you don’t heed my advice, just have a raffle. Anyone but those five would be equally disastrous, after all.”
“Thanks for the gems of wisdom. But we won’t do anything until we’re in possession of enough data.”
“And what else are ‘we’ going to do?”
“We won’t do anything. While I have to go.”
“Good. I’ll tag along.”
Yeah. Right. She’d sooner have a lion in tow. One just released after a month of captive starvation.
“Why don’t you stay and complete the chaos?”
His eyebrows shot up in what must be simulated surprise. “Chaos?”
Her genial expression didn’t waver even as her hiss attempted to disembowel him. “I planned this to be a relaxed event, even a bit festive—”
“That explains it. I thought you were trying to start a new tradition—Azmaharian Halloween.”
She sharpened her tone. “I wanted to put the attendees in the most cooperative frame of mind, to alleviate the mood of doom and gloom that permeates the kingdom. So thanks so much for spoiling everything.”
“Me? What did I do?” Those mile-long lashes swept up and down.
She almost felt their swoosh, certainly felt it fan her fire. “You have the superpower of discord sowing. And you have it on constantly, exercise it at will, actively or passively.”
She waited for him to volley back something inflammatory and incontrovertible. Lightness only drained, leaving his face bleak.
Then it got worse. Agony flitted through his eyes as they tore away. She followed their trajectory to the most disturbing presence around. Rashid.
As if feeling his gaze, Rashid half turned. And if looks could dismember, Haidar would have been in pieces.
She shuddered at the force that blasted between the two men. Surprisingly, the viciousness felt one-way. What emanated from Haidar was as intense, but different in texture. Something she’d never thought to feel from him. Despondency.
Haidar returned his gaze to her. “Rejoice, Roxanne. I’m taking my disruptive presence away from inhabited areas.”
Then he turned and strode out of the ballroom.
Roxanne stared at Haidar’s receding back for the second time in as many days. Then she found herself rushing after him.
She had to pour on speed to catch up with him. In a deserted corridor that seemed to materialize out of nowhere.
It was only when she caught him back that her actions sank in.
What the hell was she doing?
He turned to her, something like … hurt filling his eyes, and she blurted out, “What’s wrong?”
She almost kicked herself. What did she care if anything—if everything—was wrong with Haidar Aal Shalaan?
It seemed he wouldn’t answer. Then he exhaled. “A lot, evidently. Probably everything.”
She should say something borderline civil, get the hell away.
Instead she asked, “So what did I say that triggered your sudden retreat?” At his surprise, she rushed to add, “I’m asking only so I can replicate my success in the future.”
She expected him to slam her with something bedeviling. He didn’t.
“You … confirmed something Rashid said to me earlier. It wasn’t the only time I’ve noted your corresponding opinions of me.”
“We have more in common where you’re concerned. I heard you were friends once. Now you’re relentless enemies.”
She expected him to say they weren’t enemies, just no longer lovers. A state of affairs he had no problem reinstating.
Again, he thwarted her expectations, nodded, his eyes returning to the deadness, the defeat, that so disturbed her. “I somehow thought our enmity wasn’t such common knowledge.”
“Are you kidding? Even if my job didn’t revolve around keeping track of the honchos of economy, it would have been kinda hard to miss the two most meteorically rising players in the tech world butting heads. You’ve been giving Clash of the Titans a run for its money for the past two years.”
“It might be hard for you to believe, but I didn’t start it.”
“I believe you.”
He frowned. “You do?”
“You never ‘start’ anything. You drive people to the point where they want to take you apart. When they try, you retaliate, viciously, and to the world it seems it’s only legitimate for you to do so.”
His laugh was bitter. “Of course, that’s what you believe. And you might even be right. But not in Rashid’s case.”
“He is too powerful for even you to decimate and assimilate.”
“I meant I didn’t drive him to it. And since you asked, that’s what’s wrong—being unsure what did. And the … conversation we had.”
“It shed light on his motivations?”
“More like caused an avalanche that buried them totally.”
She hated feeling dismayed on his behalf, glared at him. “It’s not possible you don’t know.”
“I thought I knew. That it was another escalating, self-perpetuating train accident of a mess, which the sweeping majority of my relationships have turned into.”
Good thing to be reminded of that salient point.
He might be unable to connect his actions to the mess he made of people’s lives. Didn’t make him innocent of the crime.
Hackles rising, she smirked. “Why wonder if it’s your M.O.?”
“Because once I saw him again, it ripped me out of the depersonalized war we’ve been waging on each other and back to the realm of the personal. And none of it made sense anymore.”
A knot formed in her throat at his disconsolate tone. “Did you retrace incidents