Accused of being made of ice more than once, his disturbing reaction to this woman who had no place in his life bothered Sayed more than he wanted to admit. The elevator incident was still firmly in the realm of the inexplicable, no matter how much he’d tried to understand his own actions in the matter.
Sheikhs did not pant after chambermaids, not even those with additional responsibility. Aaliyah was of the servant class. He was an emir. He could not even consider an affair with her if he were so inclined.
Regardless, while Sayed had not been celibate for his entire adult life, he had been for the past three years.
Once Tahira had reached the age of majority and their betrothal had been announced officially, his honor demanded he cease sexual intimacy with other women. No one else seemed to expect it of him, but Sayed didn’t live according to any viewpoint but his own.
However, his celibacy might well explain the intense and highly sexual dreams. Three years was a long time to go without for a thirty-six-year-old man who had been sexually active since his teens.
The knowledge that his sexual desert would end in a matter of weeks after he married Tahira gave him little comfort.
He could no more imagine taking the woman he still considered a girl, despite her twenty-four years, to bed than he could countenance giving in to his growing hunger for Aaliyah Amari.
CHAPTER THREE
LIYAH WATCHED HER father from the distance of the cavernous lobby.
If she wasn’t sneaking in unnecessary glimpses of the emir, Liyah was straining for yet another impression of Gene Chatsfield. It was ridiculous.
Unable to deal with her attraction to Sayed in any other way than to avoid direct contact, she was no closer to coming to terms with the reality of her father, either.
And she felt like a coward.
Hena Amari had always been vocal in her praise of what she considered her daughter’s intrepid and determined nature. Neither of which were at the forefront of Liyah’s actions right now.
She needed to get her first meeting with Gene Chatsfield over with. If for no other reason than to tell him of her mother’s death.
She sincerely doubted anyone else had done so. It wasn’t something that human resources would have mentioned to the owner of the entire hotel chain.
The Chatsfield San Francisco had sent a beautiful bouquet of purple irises to the funeral; however, these were probably organized by Stephanie Carter and that was no indication their proprietor knew of his chambermaid’s death.
Liyah watched as Gene stepped onto the elevator, no doubt headed to the penthouse-level suite he always occupied when he was in London.
The empty suite. Because his fiancée was out shopping and not expected back until after teatime.
Now would be the perfect time for Liyah to make herself known to him. Things with the hotel were running smoothly; there had been no further complications with the sheikh’s visit.
And what was Liyah doing here if it wasn’t to fulfill her mother’s final request?
Unlike her half sister Lucilla Chatsfield, Liyah didn’t want to make her career at the family hotel and certainly not simply to please her father. He hadn’t exactly been supportive of Lucilla’s career, his one child who had made it clear she was not only interested in the welfare of the hotels, but worked hard for the Chatsfield. Instead, her father had hired a man with a ruthless reputation and, if the rumors were true, Giatrakos was extending his own personal brand of punishment not only to Lucilla, but to the remaining Chatsfield siblings. The man was a dinosaur when it came to workplace ideals.