Never Seduce a Sheikh(4)
Maybe Lily Harkness had more potential than he’d first thought, despite her inexperience. It was certainly going to be interesting getting it out of her.
“By all means.” Isma’il pulled the limo door open for her. “Your chariot. You’ll find it far more comfortable than the air strip, I am sure.”
Her brown eyes narrowed as if she found the gesture in some way suspicious.
“I am being gallant now, Ms. Harkness,” Isma’il said pointedly. “You will indulge me.”
She held his gaze for one long second and he did not miss the flare of unmistakable challenge lighting the darkness of her eyes.
And the hunter inside him woke up completely. Riveted.
“Well, in that case, of course I shall indulge you,” said Lily Harkness. “This once.”
* * *
Lily slid into the blissful cool of the limousine trying to understand just why the sheikh of Dahar was putting her off her game so badly.
He’d proved to be difficult in a variety of unexpected ways. The parasol. The bag carrying. Opening the car door. All very old fashioned and courteous, and probably just the kind of thing some women loved. But she didn’t. Such displays undermined her position, a position that had been weak to start out with. Would the sheikh have carried the bags, shaded with parasols and opened the doors for the male CEOs of the other oil companies? She was thinking no, he probably hadn’t.
Annoyed by her own reactions, Lily began straightening her jacket and smoothing the fabric of her trousers, neatening herself up again. Making sure her armor was securely in place. Then, she realized she’d undone the top button of her shirt. A surge of irritation went through her as she remembered that little power play with the parasol. Because it had been a power play—of that she’d had no doubt. She hadn’t spent ten years in the oil business without recognizing when someone was testing her. A test she couldn’t help thinking she’d failed in some way.
Frowning, she made sure the button was firmly closed as Isma’il slid into the seat beside her, closing the door on the furnace of the airstrip outside.
Feeling more in control now she was neater—though nothing but a shower was going to get rid of the horrible sweaty feeling—she let her gaze run over him, trying to pinpoint the source of her discomfort.
Tall. Much taller than she was and she almost never encountered men who were taller than she was. So tall in fact, that his closely cropped black hair brushed the roof of the limo. And big. Powerful. One might expect a man of such height and power to be awkward or stiff and yet he sat beside her with all the loose-limbed grace of a hunting cat. In his dark suit, perfectly cut as befitting his station, there was something almost dangerous about him.
A strange thought. Men weren’t dangerous. Because for them to be dangerous, she would have to be vulnerable. And she wasn’t vulnerable. Not ever.
Lily glanced up at his face. Handsome seemed too bland a word. Strongly defined with high, sharp cheekbones, his features were fierce, arrogant. A harsh beauty to him that she found compelling.
She frowned. Since when had she noticed a man’s looks? Normally masculine beauty had no impact on her at all, so why was she now noticing this sheikh’s? There was just something about him. Something she couldn’t quite determine . . .
One corner of his mouth turned up in that smile she refused to call charming. Then he took off the sunglasses he’d been wearing and Lily’s train of thought came to a crashing halt.
His eyes were the color of a tropical sea. A perfect, clear, turquoise. With his bronze skin and thick, black lashes, they elevated him from compelling to unforgettable.
One perfect black brow lifted. “Something the matter?” His voice was deep, lazy and edged with an accent that made her feel . . . odd.
“No.” Why did her voice sound hoarse? And why did she want to look away from him? Something wasn’t right here and she didn’t like it one bit. With an effort she tried not to show how discomforted she felt. “I didn’t think blue eyes were usual in this part of the world.”
“They’re not.” He leaned forward and rapped the glass partition between themselves and the driver, then sat back. “My mother had Bedouin ancestry. It is uncommon in their tribes, but the genes show up every now and then.”
Ah yes, despite that erroneous accusation that she hadn’t done her research, Lily knew quite a bit about his Highness Sheikh Isma’il ibn Khalid al Zahar, and his late mother’s Bedouin ancestry was the least of it.
He’d invited Harkness to Dahar before her father had retired, but she’d read all the info. She knew about the turmoil following the old sheikh’s death. Knew the rumors about Sheikh Khalid’s tyranny. Knew his son had spent the last twenty years away from his country before returning to take up the mantle of power. Knew that the sale of the oil rights was a contentious issue and an important one for a new ruler to make. Especially a ruler who perhaps wanted to distance himself from his father’s violent reign.