The Sheikh’s Secret Son(3)

Suddenly, there she was, walking toward the Sultan in her tight skirt, her thin legs tapering down to her heels. The perfect curve of her ass lured his eyes in as she moved. Her auburn hair showed off just enough of the porcelain white skin of her neck to remind him of what the rest of her looked like beneath those clothes.

It had been a long time since he’d seen her body, but he could still see her alabaster skin clearly in his mind’s eye, the way it contrasted with dark, reddish skin of his hands as he ran his fingers down her back or across her stomach. He remembered burying his hands in her hair and holding her to him as they kissed the first time.

So many emotions ran through him that by the time he caught up to her in front of his father’s chair, he wasn’t sure what he was going to say to her. He couldn’t reveal too much to his traditional father beyond the fact that they had worked closely together during one of his previous visits to the United States. He certainly couldn’t bring up the past.





2





“I love you. Goodnight and sweet dreams, kiddo.”

“I love you, too, Mommy.”

Rebecca had almost expected her son to hand the phone over to her sister, Amy, who was watching him while she was out of the country, but he went ahead and disconnected the call on his own. He could be so grown up sometimes! And at those times, it didn’t make being away from him any easier. She stuffed her cell phone into the inner pocket of her jacket.

While the rest of the group listened to the two representatives of the Sultan, she noticed that the Sultan himself had entered the room and was sitting in a large throne-like chair on a dais at the other end of the room. Instead of hanging around and listening to what the Sultan’s tour guides had to say, she decided to go directly to the Sultan himself to see if the tour would include important sites instead of the tourist attractions that would surely gloss over the injustices committed daily in the Emirate. The Sultan had a reputation abroad of not making as many concessions for foreigners as some of his neighbors did. She knew it was possible he wouldn’t be forgiving of her forward behavior and attitude, but she still had a job to do while she was there.She made her way around the others in the group, and past the tables of finger foods and the wait staff serving tea and coffee. She walked up to the Sultan and introduced herself.

“Sultan bin Mohammed Al-Qasimi?” she asked giving him her best smile before nodding to the man standing next to him who gave her a friendly smile in return.

The Sultan looked her up and down with a less than flattering expression on his face.

“My name is Rebecca Reid. I’m the envoy to the diplomatic party visiting your Emirate. I want to thank you for allowing us to visit,” she continued.

“We are glad to have you,” the Sultan said with a sturdy, unaffected voice. She expected him to hold up his hand and tell her to kiss a ring. “We look forward to discussing further investments in the growth of Sharjah with you,” he continued. “And I hope you find your accommodations fitting.”

The party had been put up in one of the nicest hotels in Sharjah, as requested by the head representative of the party, a feisty woman named Candace. So far, they’d been treated like royalty.

“Yes, sir,” Rebecca answered the Sultan. “We’ve been treated very well. Thank you.”

“Good,” he said, obviously very pleased with himself. “I’m glad to hear it.”

“Yes, sir, but there is something I wanted to ask you about the tour,” Rebecca continued.

“Yes. How may I be of service?” She was surprised by the genuine sound of concern in his voice.

“I was reviewing the itinerary we were given, and I noticed Rajak and Timina were missing. We’re visiting just about every other part of Sharjah, but those two sections are left off. They’re also two of the poorest sections of the Emirate. I was wondering if we could visit them as well.”

“That part of town does not offer anything for the investors, which is why it was not included.” She expected him to be angry, but his tone conveyed puzzlement as to why she would bring them up.

“I think visiting those sections of Sharjah would give us the opportunity to address any labor concerns the investors may have,” she assured him, hoping he would agree.

The Sultan chuckled humorlessly. “Yes, if anything, it will show them that there is still plenty of room for economic growth. But, if you’d like to talk about visiting those areas, you should probably talk to my son who is supervising the tour.”

And there it was, she thought. There was the avoidance she had expected. He was passing it off blatantly. It was no surprise. In his grand palace, poverty wasn’t a problem.