The Sheikh’s Accidental Heir(4)

Khalid shook his head. “It is time to start taking some of this seriously. Someday soon, Father will lose patience with you. You’re no longer the baby of the family, Ahmed. Father expects you to become a man.”

Raising his hand, Ahmed held it in front of him. “Now you sound too much like him.”

Khalid’s mouth pulled down. He was starting to look too much like their father, too. His figure had thickened slightly—married life was turning Khalid into a dull husband. They all shared the same heritage of their father’s dark hair and eyes—but Khalid seemed… happy.

Ahmed frowned at that thought. Happy was not a concept he courted—he wanted excitement, he wanted to live before their father tied all of them to the lives he had planned for them. Ahmed squirmed in his seat. He was growing impatient with being the youngest—the last one Father ever thought about, the one who had nothing to do other than let his older brothers learn the business like Zaid or start having grandchildren as Khalid seemed intent on doing.

He was here in America, far from his father’s disapproval, and he had a lovely woman willing to dine with him. And perhaps more—American woman were wonderful in how they went after their own pleasure like a man. He glanced around and saw Melanie, back at work again, supervising a new tray of some tiny treats that were to be passed around. He watched as she worked her way around the room. She did not look his way, and he knew she was trying hard not to.

Ahmed sipped his water and waited for Khalid to take up his lecture again. But his brother surprised him by slapping a hand on Ahmed’s shoulder and standing. “You should find yourself a wife.”

Ahmed gave a snort. “So says the married man, who only wishes to see others chained. I am satisfied with my life as it is.”

Khalid shook his head. “Choose on your own, brother, before Father chooses for you.”

“Oh, he will have to marry Zaid off first, and then he will pay attention to me—perhaps. Until then…well, until then I will live life to the fullest.”

“Meaning you will find trouble for yourself and the family.” Khalid shook his head. “Father’s patience is not endless. And neither is your life. Find something you want, Ahmed. And go after it. Father will never respect you until you learn first to respect yourself.”

Khalid strode off to Zaid’s side. Ahmed turned away from him—his older brother was wrong. Someday Ahmed would earn their father’s respect. Just not today, given what he was planning.

The party seemed to be winding down—guests were taking their leave. Khalid and Zaid still worked the room, and Ahmed sat where he was, frowning at his water and wondering why Khalid’s words stuck under his skin like a sliver of glass.

Find something he wanted?

Was he not always doing that? And always having his father or his brothers tell him that was not a fit thing for the son of the Sultan of Sharjah? Of course, that only made him go out to find yet another thing to irritate his father. He knew he enjoyed that a little too much—it had been his only hobby growing up and the only way to ever get his father’s attention. Well, too late to break such a habit now.

He grinned suddenly. Besides, it gave his father more to do—Father adored nothing more than a good lecture.

“Standing, he set his water down, smoothed his suit and headed over to shake the hands of their last guests.

Turning to Zaid, he said, “I think the caterer is ready to shut it down, so we should probably call it a night.” And please get yourselves back to your own rooms.

Zaid frowned, but it was obvious Khalid wanted to leave—no doubt to have a long talk with his wife who waited for him. Ahmed put on the innocent smile he had perfected over the years—as if he had no plans at all. But he was very much planning on an evening he would not soon forget—one with the lovely Melanie.





2





“You waited!” Melanie couldn’t hide the surprise or excitement in her voice when she found her gorgeous sheik waiting just outside the hotel. One look at him and she’d figured him as a flirt—he had that look in his eyes, part mischief and part trouble and way too attractive. She also knew her own weakness—she loved bad boys.

He gave her an easy grin, one that had her heart speeding up and left her palms damp. “Did you think I wouldn’t show?”

“Admittedly, yes. You seem the type who’d have a steady supply of women eager to spend time with you.” His dark eyebrows pulled tight and a touch of hurt lightened his eyes. She stared back at him, daring him to try a line on her.

Slowly, the spark came back into his eyes. He’d changed from his suit into jeans and a black polo that he wore open at the neck. She could see a touch of curling, dark chest hair peeking out and golden-brown skin. His dark hair had a touch of wave in it and reached almost to his shoulders, framing his strong face. A neatly trimmed beard followed a firm jaw line, emphasizing solid features. Earlier, he’d looked bored—and she’d pegged him as the son who hated business. The playboy son. Now she wasn’t so sure. There seemed to be hidden depths to Ahmed.