Never Seduce a Sheikh(7)
“All contracts are important to me.”
He looked across the room to where she stood by the printer. “But I think this one is more important than others, yes?”
Her gaze met his. “If you must know, yes, it is.”
“You need to prove yourself. Prove that you are a worthy successor to your father.”
There was a silence. Then, she said, “I’m not the only one.”
Isma’il was not expecting the cool observation. Neither did he like the way it slid under his skin like a barb. He was not his father’s worthy successor. It would not take much to do better than Khalid and Isma’il wanted more than to merely succeed him. He wanted to obliterate all memory of his father’s reign entirely. “How is that relevant?”
“I’m just pointing out the fact that we have similar goals. Success with this contract is what we both want.”
He didn’t bother to deny it. “You are correct. The future of my reign and the wellbeing of my country rests on this decision. Which is why, it has to be the right one. With the right company.”
“The right company is Harkness Oil.”
So much cool authority in her voice. So much surety in those dark eyes of hers. A steely kind of surety. As if she would let nothing stand in her way.
Something dark and hungry turned over inside him. It had been a long time since anyone had challenged him in quite this way. He tended to nip such things in the bud as early and with as much subtlety as possible. The precise scalpel to his father’s blunt hammer. But he’d forgotten how much pleasure there was to be gained in matching wills with someone. With a woman in particular.
Isma’il pushed away from the desk, prowling over towards her. He wanted to get closer to her, see what she would do. How she would handle him. She was so confident, so poised. Invulnerable. But everyone had their weak points and he wanted to know hers.
She watched him come, unmoving. Unflinching. Even when he stopped bare inches away from her.
“You are very sure of yourself, Lily Harkness.”
Her gaze didn’t change as she looked up at him. “I’m very sure of my company, your Highness.”
He’d become conscious of the faint hint of her perfume, the one he’d noticed in the limo. A clean, fresh scent with a hint of sharpness. Like rainstorms and freshly cut grass.
A faint wash of color stained her cheekbones. But she didn’t look away or move.
The air between them crackled, electricity charging the atmosphere.
He liked it. Liked the confrontation between them. It was . . . exciting.
“Indeed, your company has an excellent reputation,” he said. “But it will take more than an excellent reputation to win this contract.”
Her chin lifted. “Tell me what more you need and I’ll get it to you.”
He didn’t have to tilt his head much to meet her gaze because she was very tall.
Neither would you have to bend to reach her mouth . . .
The thought came out of nowhere. Irritated with himself, Isma’il ignored it. This was business and thoughts of kissing Lily Harkness, CEO, was not part of that business. No matter how exciting he found matching wills with her.
Turning away, he took a stroll around the room instead, idly picking up bits and pieces from the desks, examining them in a cursory fashion.
“That sounds like the offer of a bribe.”
“Call it what you want. If it’ll get me the contract, I’ll pay it.”
He paused by a bookshelf, studied the titles on the spines. “You are very competitive. Winning is important to you, is it not?”
“I’m in a competitive business. I’ll use anything that gives me an edge.”
He turned from the bookshelf, glancing across the room to where she stood. Watching him. Strong and elegant and decisive. Not to mention focussed.
Apparently, before she’d joined her father’s company, she had been an Olympic swimmer. Gold medallist too. Not that that was any surprise. He had a feeling Lily Harkness would never settle for anything as paltry as silver.
Isma’il lifted an eyebrow. “Anything?”
“Within reason, of course.”
He prowled over to the desk again, once more picking up the pen he’d dropped earlier. Her gaze followed his movements. Curious. Did she find him as challenging as he found her?
Isma’il slowly turned the pen over in his hands, enjoying that particular thought far more than he should have. “Before I take you into the desert to meet with the tribes, I will need to know that you can do business with them in the way they are accustomed. That you will not alienate them.” He met her gaze. “I realize this is your company’s speciality, but it is you who represent your company. I would like proof you have the personal touch with my people. And I would like that proof tonight.”