Accidentally the Sheikh's Wife / Marrying the Scarred Sheikh. Barbara McMahon
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to finish the deal, as Rashid had suspected. Once the papers were signed, Bethanne would be leaving. Life would return to normal and no one except he and she would know the full circumstances of the charade. The thought was disquieting. Maybe he wouldn’t be in so much of a hurry to finalize everything.
Bethanne took care when freshening up. She brushed her hair until it shone. Tying it back so it wouldn’t get in her face, she refreshed her makeup. She felt like she was on holiday—lazing around, visiting old town, now seeing more of the country. Spending time with a gorgeous man. What was not to like about Quishari?
She was practical enough to know she wasn’t some femme fatale; she’d never wow the sheikh like some Arabian beauty would. Haile had had that sultry look with the fine features, wide choco-late-brown eyes and beautiful dark hair so many Arab women had. Next to them, she felt like a washed-out watercolor.
Leaving her room, she started down the stairs.
“Prompt as ever,” he said from the bottom.
She glanced down at him, gripping the banister tightly in startled surprise. She could take in how fabulous he looked in a dark suit, white shirt and blue-and-silver tie. His black hair gleamed beneath the chandelier. His deep brown eyes were fixed on her. Taking a breath, she smiled and tried to glide down the stairs. Was this how Cinderella felt going to the ball? She didn’t want midnight to come.
“You look lovely,” he said.
Bethanne smiled at him. “Thank you, kind sir.”
Once seated in the limo, Rashid gave directions to the driver. Bethanne settled back to enjoy being with him.
“So if I’m to watch a polo match on Saturday, maybe I should learn a bit of the finer points of the game,” she said as they pulled away from the villa. “What should I watch for?”
Rashid gave her an overview of the game. Bethanne couldn’t wait to see Rashid on one of the horses he spoke about. She knew he’d looked fabulous. She had to remind herself more than once on the ride—sheikhs didn’t get involved with women from Galveston, Texas.
When they arrived at the restaurant, Bethanne was impressed. It was on the shore of the Gulf, with tall windows which gave an excellent view to the beautiful water. Their table was next to one of the windows, tinted to keep the glare out, making Bethanne feel as if she were sitting on the sand.
“This is fabulous,” she murmured, captivated by the view.
“The food is good, as well,” he said, sitting in the chair opposite.
The maître d’ placed the menus before them with a flourish.
After one glance, Bethanne closed hers and looked back out the window. “Please order for me. I’m afraid I can’t read Arabic.”
“Do you like fish?”
“Love it.”
“Then I’ll order the same filet for us both and you’ll see what delicious fish we get from the Gulf.”
After their order had been taken, Bethanne looked at him. “Do you ever go snorkeling or scuba diving?”
“From time to time,” he said. “Do you?”
She nodded. “It’s almost mandatory if one grows up in Galveston. I’ve had some great vacations in the Florida Keys, snorkeling and exploring the colorful sea floor.”
“We will have to try that before you go,” he said politely.
She studied him for a moment. “I can go by myself, you know. You don’t have to take time away from your busy work schedule. It’s not as if—”
His raised eyebrow had her stopping abruptly.
“What?”
“We do not know who can hear our conversation,” he cautioned.
She glanced around. No one appeared to be paying the slightest bit of attention to them, but she knew it would only take a few words to cause the charade to collapse and that would undoubtedly cause Rashid a lot of trouble.
“So how goes the deal?” she asked, leaning a bit closer and lowering her voice.
“We should sign soon, if certain parties don’t cause a glitch.”
“The father?” she asked, feeling as if she were speaking in code.
“No, he’ll come round. It’s some of our own internal people who are against the proposed agreement who could still throw a wrench into the works.”
“And your mother?”
Rashid leaned closer, covering one of her hands with his, lowering his voice. “My mother has no interest in politics or business. She only wants her sons married. Our personal lives have no interest to anyone, unless it causes a breach between me and al Benqura. That’s what we are guarding against.”
Bethanne knew to others in the restaurant, it must look as if he were whispering sweet nothings. Her hand tingled with his touch. For a moment she wished she dared turn it over and clasp his. The Quishari culture was more conservative than Americans and overt displays of affection were uncommon in public. Still, he had made the overture.
“Do not be concerned with my mother. She will not cause a problem.”
“I wished she liked me,” she murmured.
“Why? You’ll hardly see her before you leave. She will be at the polo match and perhaps one or two events we attend, but her manners are excellent, as I expect yours to be.”
Bethanne bristled. “I do know how to make nice in public,” she said.
Amusement danced in his eyes. “I’m sure you do.”
Their first course arrived and Bethanne was pleased to end the conversation and concentrate on eating and enjoying the view.
“This is delicious,” she said after her first bite. The fish was tender and flavorful. The vegetables were perfect.
He nodded. “I hoped you would like it.”
Conversation was sporadic while they ate. Bethanne didn’t want to disturb the mellow mood she was in as she enjoyed the food. She glanced at Rashid once in a while, but for the most part kept looking at the sea.
When the sugared walnuts appeared for dessert, she smiled in delight. “I didn’t know restaurants served these,” she said, taking one and popping it into her mouth.
“I ordered them specially for you,” he said.
“You did?” Amazing. She’d never had anyone pay such attention to details and then act on their knowledge. “Thank you very much. I love these.”
She savored another then asked, “So what happened to your brother? Did he get the fire out?”
“He did. He heads a company that specializes in putting out oil fires as well as acting as consultants for wells around the world.”
“Sounds dangerous.”
“Putting out the fires can be, but the rest is consulting work.”
“Isn’t he part of the family business?”
“He is, but more a silent partner in the day-to-day operations. He prefers not to be stuck in an office, as he puts it.”
She studied him, taking another walnut and savoring it as she put it in her mouth. “I don’t see you as stuck in an office. I expect you love pitting your mind against others.”
He smiled slightly. “One way to put it, I suppose. I find it satisfying to make deals to benefit the company. Pitting my wits against others in the field and continuing to expand the company beyond what my father did.”
“How did your father die?” It was a bold question, given what she’d learned this morning, but she would never have a better opportunity.