“You have the women you sleep with investigated?”
“Not if there is nothing to hide. My reputation, this charade we’re beginning, is not a joke. I will not let you risk it.”
“Is there anything left to besmirch?”
“What about Massimiliano Ricci?”
Amalia gritted her teeth to swallow her ire. “What about Massi?”
“You call him Massi?”
“I call him whatever the hell I want, Sheikh. My work, my life, they are not yours to dissect or to dictate.”
“From now on, they are.” Arrogance dripped from every pore. “That he placed such a call for you using his connections even after two months of not working says something about your relationship.”
Jumping to conclusions about her seemed to be a habit of his. Or maybe that was what he did to women who didn’t jump to do his bidding immediately.
The passing thought made Amalia’s spine stiffer. She wished she could tell a convincing lie, wished she could feed the hateful man what he was asking for. But she had always been honest to a fault. The little white lie she had told him two days ago had to be the biggest lie she had ever told in her entire life.
“You will not understand our relationship with each other. And I will not deign to put a label on it for you.” Maybe she wasn’t good at telling lies, but she was getting good at hiding the truth. Some instinct inside her refused to answer what the infuriating man was asking, refused to admit that she’d never felt anything for Massi even when she’d wanted to.
His fingers loosened around her arm, thick lashes falling to hide his expression. “All I need to know is if he will create any sort of problem over the next few months, especially when he hears of our engagement.”
Months in close quarters with the sheikh—battling wits with him and with her own willpower... Her heart sank to the soles of her feet. Massi’s reaction to all this was the least of her worries. “Few months?”
“As long as it takes for Mirah’s wedding to happen.”
She frowned. “You’re doing all this for your sister?”
“Yes.”
“Why? What does your fiancée have to do with her wedding?”
“Her fiancé’s family is very conservative. They did not like the lurid details that Celebrity Spy! made up about my love life. My mother heard talk of them canceling the wedding because they do not want to be connected to a family like mine.”
Amalia would’ve enjoyed the pressure he was feeling if it didn’t directly relate to her own fate. “So they dared to cut off an alliance with the ruling sheikh?”
“Her fiancé’s family is old money. They care more about perception than they do about the truth.”
“Then maybe Mirah is better off not marrying into such a family.”
His smile dug grooves in his cheeks. “I would think the same if I didn’t know that Farid’s heart is true. He loves Mirah unconditionally.”
“Your father has to have some power over all this, right? Why couldn’t he persuade them that Mirah is not at fault for your escapades? It’s not some kind of genetic defect that she might have.”
“If it were up to my father, he would cut off the alliance completely. He thinks this...matter of Mirah’s love is causing far too much inconvenience to me.”
“Because a son ranks higher than a daughter?” she said bitterly.
“No, a sheikh’s duty ranks much higher than love.” The setting sun played shadows on his face, making him look harsher. “Love has no place in any of our lives.”
“But you’re going to all these lengths for her?”
“Yes, because I want Mirah to have this happiness. My life should not adversely affect hers.”
“I don’t understand this.” He called her a contradiction and here he was. His eyes softened every time he talked about his sister. “You were looking over women that this mysterious Ms. Young sent you as if you were picking up vegetables at a bazaar. And yet, you want your sister to marry for love? Something does not add up.”
“My sister’s life and mine are different, Amalia. They always have been.”
“So all this was damage control.”
“I intended to marry, yes. The exposé brought the time forward, is all. All jokes aside, you will dress the part of my fiancée. I have a two-week trip to Europe, which should work very well for our first public appearance together. You will look besotted and beautiful and convince the world that you’re absolutely in love with me.”
“That might be a tall order now that I know what a hard-ass you are.”
“Then remember the fervor with which you were moaning when we kissed. If you want a repeat, I’m happy to oblige.”
“Why can’t we just announce to her family that we’re engaged? Why does all this have to take months?”
“We will let ourselves be seen together. The ring on your finger and your adoring looks should prove to the world that I’ve fallen for your charms.”
Suddenly, he produced a sheaf of documents from somewhere. “What is it?”
“It’s an NDA agreement. Better late than never.”
Stunned, Amalia took the documents from him. “What will you do if I break it? Sue me? I have nothing but pencil skirts and a savings account that’s dwindling by the hour.”
“I will tie you to a court case in Khaleej for the rest of your lifetime.”
“Then I’ll tell the—”
“You seem to think we’re on an even keel with each other. This meeting was about setting the rules. Just because I answered your questions and laugh at your quips does not mean I will lose sight of our objective. Do not threaten me again, Amalia.
“I have more power. I will always have more power in this relationship. Please me with your performance these next few months and I will see your brother released if he’s innocent.”
“You’re a bully, Sheikh.”
“If that’s what you need to call me to understand the situation, so be it.” If looks could kill, Zayn had a feeling he would be ashes now. “Did you contact your father?”
A different kind of tension filled her body, her mouth flattening into a thin line. “No.”
“You do not think you should let him know some version of the truth before he sees it plastered across some social media site? You are, after all, his daughter.”
“He won’t care.”
“I am sure he will—”
“I won’t be told what to do in this, Sheikh. I don’t care if you throw me in jail for the rest of my life. I’m not answerable to him. And I’m answerable to you only as long as Aslam is in jail.
“And speaking of whom, I have to see him before I leave.”
“Not possible. I will not risk you leaking everything I’m trying to hold intact in an emotional moment with your brother. Believe me, Amalia, Aslam is barely suffering where he is. In fact, this might be a good lesson in growing up for your brother.”
“That’s not for you to decide.”
“It will be precisely I who decides if your performance is not up to the mark.” He tugged until she fell against him with a throaty gasp. “You should start practicing calling me Zayn. I do demand respect from my future wife. But I do not want the world to think she’s terrified of me.”
Outrage flashed in her eyes and her mouth curved into a snarl. “I hate you, Zayn. How does that sound?”
Letting her go, Zayn laughed. Now, all he had to remember was that Amalia was still a wild card, the wildest bet he had ever made in his life.
He didn’t doubt for a minute that she would leak the entire story to a rapt news reporter in the future if she thought it to her advantage, if this whole issue of her brother’s case was not resolved to her satisfaction.
The threat she represented was enough to douse Zayn’s interest like a dip in that cold pool. He would have to ensure that she didn’t remain a threat to his reputation, or Mirah’s happiness, even Khaleej’s stability.
“I think I should tell Massi the truth.”
“What have you told him so far?”
“I emailed him that certain things were going out of my control. That I would not be able to return in a month.”
Every time she mentioned her boss’s name, he felt a tight knot in his gut. “And?”
She sighed. “And if I know Massi and I do, he’s not going to like it. Neither is he going to believe that I fell in love with you so suddenly. It is better I tell him the truth—that this is nothing but a show.”
“Absolutely not.” Zayn moved closer to her, the tanned sheen of her smooth skin an invitation. But he resisted the urge to find out if it was as smooth as it looked. “This is between only you and me, Amalia. Not even my closest adviser is going to know that beneath your prim manner is a cunning blackmailer.
“Whatever relationship you had with Massi was finished the moment you considered blackmailing me.”
Taking her to bed, much as his body was already weaving fantasies about it, was not an option.
And with the media frenzy surrounding him being what it was, he could not go near a woman until all this was wrapped up to his satisfaction.
Whether he liked it or not, celibacy, for at least a few months, seemed to be the order of the day. Never succumb to weakness or another’s will, had been beat into him from a young age. He played hard because he needed to let loose, to cope with the pressures of his life, not because he was of weak will.