Never Seduce a Sheikh(6)
Right now, she stood by the large, ornately carved desk, her back to the view of the palace’s renowned gardens, her arms crossed over her chest, a concentrated look on her lovely face as she scanned the room.
“So,” he drawled, “does everything meet with your expectations?”
She didn’t so much as glance in his direction. Even though her dark blue suit was, by now, starting to look a little crumpled, she still managed to look poised and coolly in charge.
“Yes, it’s fine.”
“It is not quite what you are used to in Sydney, I’m sure.”
Lily glanced around the vaulted room with its tiled floor and arched doorways before finally looking at him. “No, but it’s adequate. Thank you.”
“You are very free with your praise. The palace staff will be most appreciative.”
Dark eyes studied him for a moment. “I’m sorry, your Highness, but were you expecting something more from me?”
“A thank you never goes amiss.”
“I did say thank you.”
“An indication that you meant it is usually welcome. A smile to accompany it, for example, can work wonders.”
She stared at him. Then, that tight, professional smile of hers appeared which was rather disappointing. For some reason, he wanted more than that, though how much more he didn’t know.
“Thank you. This office is most adequate to my needs.” The smile disappeared as her gaze shifted to the sleek computer sitting on the desk. She bent and pushed a button, switching it on. “I assume, since we’re standing in what is essentially an office, I can now talk about the reason for my visit?”
Isma’il shifted against the doorframe. “Certainly? You have questions?”
“Yes.” Lily straightened. “I’m curious about what exactly I have to prove to you and why.”
A fair point. The rest of the way back to the palace in the limo she’d been very careful to steer away from any business questions, clearly having taken his warning to heart. He’d been impressed. Then, further impressed by the insightful questions she’d asked about Dahar and its people.
“Is that your only question?”
“No. There are some things about the desert visit that—”
“Forgive me, Ms. Harkness, but if you do not perform to my liking, then there will be no desert visit.”
The sounds of the fountains in the gardens outside were peaceful, calming. But the expression on Lily’s face was not. Tension settled into her features, her tall figure becoming stiff. And he had the sense that she was trying to hold something back. Very possibly anger.
“I’m sorry? I was given to understand that a meeting with the desert tribes to discuss drilling on their land was necessary.”
“It is necessary. But it is not a discussion in the way you are thinking. We need their permission before drilling commences and that involves delicate negotiations. And I am not going to bring some untried western woman out to meet them without making certain she can do the job without causing offence.”
The tension didn’t leave her posture. “The other companies got a meeting?”
“They did.”
“Without having to prove themselves beforehand I assume?”
“The desert tribes are very traditional. They respect age. Experience.”
“And I suppose being a man doesn’t hurt.”
He didn’t sugar-coat the truth. “No.”
For a long moment, she just looked at him. Then, she turned sharply away, pacing over to the large screen placed on the wall opposite, giving it a cursory check before going over to another desk where a printer and fax were set up.
He watched her move around the room, curious to see how she would take this. It would not be an easy truth for her to hear, not for a western woman who was used to being dealt with as an equal in her industry. It would be interesting to see how she would respond.
He found himself studying the way she moved as she checked over the printer. Strong. Decisive. As if this place was hers, as if she owned it. There was an arrogance to the way she held herself that if she’d been a man, he would have found offensive. But she wasn’t a man and he didn’t find it offensive. He found it compelling.
She pushed a couple of buttons on the printer, checked the little screen then glanced at him.
“So what do I have to do?”
“To what?”
“To get Harkness into pole position. Obviously, I can’t change my sex, but I have other things I can offer that might sweeten the deal.”
Isma’il pushed himself away from the doorframe and strolled into the room, going over to the carved wooden desk. He picked up a pen, toying loosely with it. “This contract is very important to you is it not?”