The Sheikh’s Tamed Bride Read online

  Unfortunately, a stranger exited the house with a box in his hand. No doubt Sahaar was sending Liyah a treat. Liyah loved Sahaar’s food.

  The back door of the sedan opened, and a familiar figure stepped out. Rashid, the middle Sharif brother. Mila had only met him once, at Liyah’s wedding, but she’d been so put off by his arrogant personality that she’d barely spoken to him. In fact, she hadn’t really spoken much to anyone at the wedding because she’d been coming down with a terrible cold.

  Her lips thinned at seeing the man. He’d recently been in the news for partying with the daughters of two visiting diplomats.

  Instead of ignoring her, he walked right up to her. “Mila, right?” he asked in a silky voice, and then he grabbed her hand and kissed it.

  Despite knowing his playboy ways, Mila couldn’t help but catch her breath. He was a gorgeous man with dark and sexy Sharif features and those dazzling green eyes.

  “That’s right. Can I help you?”

  “I’m just running an errand for my lovely sister-in-law,” he said as he caressed his thumb over her knuckles.

  She was surprised by the intimate gesture and tugged her hand back. She didn’t expect that someone like Rashid would go out of his way to do anyone a favor, but for Liyah’s sake, she didn’t voice that opinion. “I see. Well, have a good evening.”

  Adjusting the strap of her bag, she headed up the dimly lit walk to the house, only to find Rashid falling into step next to her. Confused, she glanced at him. “I think your driver already picked up the package.”

  “I know,” he said easily. “I just wanted to say hello to your exchange-mother. It would be impolite for me not to.”

  Mila was about to point out that he hadn’t deemed it necessary to say hello to Sahaar as he’d sent his driver in when the door opened and Sahaar stepped out with a small container in her hand. “Oh! Sheikh Rashid. I didn’t realize that you were also here.” She nodded her head in respect. “I was just about to catch your driver. I forgot to put extra hummus in the box.”

  “Kind of you,” Rashid said as he gently took the box from the older woman and nodded his head in respect. “I was just coming in to say hello to you.”

  Surprised, Sahaar stepped back and beckoned them in. “Mila, you’re home early. I thought you were going to a friend’s house tonight.”

  “I was, until I found out that Fatima was also going. I’ve dealt enough with her already,” Mila grumbled.

  “Sweetheart, if you’re so unhappy with your job, why don’t you quit?” Sahaar asked as she reached out and hugged the younger woman.

  Glancing at the curious look on Rashid’s face, Mila frowned. “Later. We have company.” She didn’t want to talk about private business in front of a virtual stranger.

  Sahaar immediately led them into the sitting area. She’d splurged a little bit in the new house and replaced the old tea-stained couch with a new one with a green print. She’d kept her husband’s old comfortable chair, and while Mila and Liyah had both gently tried to get her have it professionally cleaned, Sahaar always said she preferred the old musk that emanated from it. The same small scratched and chipped coffee table was there, although Mila had helped her repaint it a few weeks ago, and the checkered rug underneath it was faded from the Dubai sun.

  Mila expected Rashid to turn up his nose, but to her surprise, he didn’t even bat an eye as he walked in and sat down. Sahaar must have been active that day for she was moving around with a little more ease than usual. Her arthritis had a tendency to slow her down, and it got worse when she was still for too long.

  “How is your business going?” Rashid asked Sahaar as he waved her to sit down. “I’m ashamed to say that I stole some of Liyah’s feteer last week. I actually thought she was going to strangle me, but it would have been worth it. You are a very talented woman.”

  Sahaar blushed with pleasure. “I have some, if you’d like to take some back for yourself. Liyah is a sweet woman, but she can be possessive over her food.”

  “I won’t turn that down, especially if I can give her a bite and get on her good side.” Rashid winked, and Mila raised an eyebrow. At the wedding, Rashid had been curt and snooty. Now he was almost warm as he spoke to Sahaar.

  “I’ll go ahead and get that prepared,” Sahaar said, slow and struggling as she got up from her chair. Rashid immediately rushed to help her, and she gave him a grateful smile. “I’m sure that Mila can keep you company.”

  Left alone with Rashid, Mila stared at him. There was something strange in his eye—as if he were appraising her.

  He leaned back in his seat, elaborately casual. “You moved back to Dubai before Liyah, correct? How are you enjoying it?”

  “I love it,” she said softly, smiling. “It’s warm and colorful and a little chaotic. When Liyah and I were first here, we were too young to really immerse ourselves in the culture, but now things are different. Having a job here lets me feel like part of the city.”

  Rashid’s eyebrows went up in apparent surprise. “Dubai is lucky to have you,” he murmured, and then he leaned forward. “What is this about your job irritating you?”

  “Not the job,” she corrected. “Just a co-worker—and it’s nothing. Just a little jealousy.” It was definitely not something that she wanted to discuss with a stranger.

  “I can see why any woman would be jealous of you.” His voice fell an octave, and she felt a shiver run slowly down her spine. Was he flirting with her?

  “Here we are!” Thankfully, Sahaar chose that moment to return, and Rashid stood and nodded his head.

  “You are a beautiful woman,” he said, placing a hand on his chest. Sahaar laughed, and Rashid took the older woman’s hand and kissed it. Mila couldn’t help but feel charmed by the gesture. It was nice to see someone else seeing Sahaar for the amazing woman that she was.

  Her host-mother shot her a look, and Mila stood to tell the sheikh goodbye. This time, when he turned to her, she clasped her hands behind her back. If he touched her the way he had in the beginning, she might combust.

  He winked at her as if he knew her thoughts, and then he bowed his head. “Mila. I have a feeling that we’ll be seeing each other again.”

  Not likely. Liyah was practically her sister, and Rashid wouldn’t dare attempt to seduce her, would he?

  Sahaar followed him out and locked the door behind him. “Mila? What was that? Normally you’re so full of life!”

  “I’m just tired,” Mila said as she flashed Sahaar a regretful smile. She didn’t want to tell her host-mother how she really felt about the man.

  Sahaar clicked her tongue against her teeth and shook her head. “You must give them notice. You should not do anything that makes you so unhappy, my darling.”

  “When I have something else lined up, I will.”

  “Mila.” Sahaar reached out and took her hand. “Asad ensures that we have everything that we need. You don’t need to work, darling. This is your home, and you can stay here as long as you want. Take some time and figure out what you truly want to do! We both know that you didn’t move back to Dubai to serve at a lounge.”

  Kissing her host-mother on the cheek, Mila embraced the older woman. Her own mother had passed away when she was very young, and she’d forgotten what it was like to experience that maternal love. “I love you, Sahaar.”

  She didn’t tell her host-mother that she needed the money. She’d promised her father before he died that she’d see the world, something they’d always talked about doing. They’d even planned a trip when he got sick, but the cancer overtook him so quickly that in a matter of months, he had become bedridden. He hadn’t lasted long after that.

  Sahaar wasn’t quite ready to let the topic go. “Liyah and I were talking earlier today, and she suggested that you apply at the resort. I’m sure Asad would hire you.”

  That gave Mila pause. It wasn’t a terrible idea, and since the resort was fairly new, it was far busier than the lounge, and she might make more money. “I’ll put i
n my notice tomorrow.”

  “Good. You deserve to be happy, Mila. I know you haven’t found what you were looking for when you moved back, but maybe it’s because you haven’t been trying hard enough. You think I don’t see it, but you have adventure in your heart,” Sahaar said softly to her retreating back. “It’s time to fly.”

  3

  Mila applied to the resort that morning. She told herself that she wasn’t going to put in her two weeks’ notice until she knew that she’d gotten the job, but when she went into work that evening, Fatima was more furious than ever.

  “Of course you would use your connections to get a job at the resort,” Fatima spat. “You wouldn’t even stop to think that the rest of us who deserve to work there would get looked over because you happen to know the sheikh. You’re despicable.”

  Snorting, Mila tied her apron around her waist. Apparently, a supervisor at the resort had called to check her references.

  That was fast.

  “Let me guess. You put in an application and got denied? For your information, I haven’t told Liyah that I put in an application, and I didn’t list her as a reference. You should mind your own business, Fatima. Jealousy really doesn’t suit you.”

  Things went downhill from there. Fatima made sure that the hostess only sat singles in her section, she deliberately messed up Mila’s orders, and she doubled the side work that Mila had to do at the end of the night.

  There was no hesitation when Mila put in her two weeks. If not for her strong work ethic, she would have quit on the spot.

  When she checked her phone after her shift, she was surprised to hear a voicemail from the hiring manager at the resort asking for an interview the next morning, but rather than at the resort, they wanted to meet her at the conference center in Rashid’s sports arena. She bit her lip as she listened to the message again. It sounded like a group interview . . . lots of potential competition. Still, she was determined to do this on her own, without Liyah’s help.

  Even though it was late, she called back and confirmed that she’d be there at noon. Hope filled her, and even the memory of Fatima’s venomous comments throughout the evening could not dampen her spirits. It was time for her to move on and try something new. She couldn’t stand the rut that her life had become.

  The next day, she wore the only business suit she owned. She’d ironed the modest black skirt that skimmed just above her knees, along with the matching blazer. Because it was far too hot to keep the blazer on for long, she wore a short-sleeve gray blouse underneath, one that would let her skin breathe.

  Sahaar was out shopping for ingredients, and Mila hadn’t told her host-mother about the interview. She couldn’t bear to disappoint the woman if things didn’t go well. A taxi picked her up at eleven thirty, and fifteen minutes later, she was striding through the halls of the sports complex with her head held high.

  The arena complex was impressive. Mila knew from Liyah that Asad and his brother Rashid were in fierce competition to see which business would succeed first, but from what Mila could tell, the competition had served both men well. Both were enjoying ridiculous success.

  The massive complex hosted football, cricket, tennis, rugby, and swimming, as well as billiards and pool tournaments. The main central building hosted several different restaurants and bars as well as dozens of conference rooms on the second floor. Mila checked her piece of paper again, and double-checked to make sure that she was at the right place. The large room could easily have held fifty people, but the chairs lining the long conference tables were empty.

  “Crap,” she muttered to herself as she reached for her phone. It was going to be so embarrassing if she had to call and let them know that she was lost.

  Before she could dial the number on the paper, the doors opened behind her. Mila’s eyes widened as Amira, Liyah’s sister-in-law, and Rashid walked in. Two security men eyed her from outside the glass door.

  “I’m so sorry,” Mila said and bit her lower lip. “I think I’m in the wrong place.”

  Amira smiled warmly as she pulled out a chair and sat down. “Not at all. I’d apologize for being late, but since it was my brother who made us late, I’ll let him apologize.”

  “I was in the car and waiting on you,” Rashid growled. He openly appraised Mila, but there was no trace of the charm that she’d seen the other night in Sahaar’s house. “Sit down.”

  “Rashid,” Amira said sharply. “Now I must apologize for my brother. He can be a little too curt, sometimes. Please join us, Mila.”

  Nervous, she grappled for the back of the chair and pulled it out. Just as she sat down, she realized that her resume was still in her bag.

  Muttering under her breath, she leaned down to pull her folder out and removed the cream-colored sheet of paper. “I’m surprised that you two would take the time out of your day to interview somebody for a waitress position,” she said as she slid the paper across the table. “I hope you’re not just doing this because Liyah asked you to. I told her I didn’t want any special treatment. I trust that my experience at the lounge and my experience waiting tables in the United States will speak for itself.”

  Amira raised her eyebrows as she reached across and grabbed the piece of paper.

  Rashid continued to stare at her quietly, and Mila plunged ahead. “I love meeting with new people, and I’m a quick study when it comes to menu items and operating systems. I’m a great multitasker, and I work well with other people and am also adept enough to solve problems on my own.”

  Rashid put his hand up, arresting palm toward her. “Let me stop you right there. We’ve spoken to your previous boss. Although there’s a manager there by the name of Fatima who seems to hate you, everyone else has excellent things to say about you. You take orders well, you’re quiet, and you’ve charmed quite a few of their regular customers.”

  Someone had told him that she was quiet? Mila had a hard time believing that, but if he got her a new job, she thought she could manage to keep her mouth shut—for a little while, at least.

  Rashid snagged the resume from Amira and turned it over on the table. “I do still have a few questions. We don’t know much about your life before you moved back to Dubai. Is there anything scandalous in your past that might affect you here?”

  Scandalous? Mila frowned. “I don’t think so?” she said slowly. “There might be some embarrassing pictures from my college days, but I doubt anyone here would be interested in those,” she said at last, and laughed. Social media made it difficult to live anything down.

  “What kind of pictures?” he asked sharply.

  She shook her head as she tried to think. “I don’t know, stupid things. My friends and I dressed up one year for Halloween, and I drew the short straw and had to go as Uncle Fester from the Addams Family. There were a few disastrous makeovers, and then there was that one time that I decided perming my hair was a good idea. Is this really relevant?”

  Rashid ignored her question. “You no longer have any immediate family in the US, correct? Your father passed away?”

  “Yes.” Mila swallowed hard. It was still difficult to talk about losing her father.

  “Do you consider yourself a party girl?”

  What? “I usually get off work well after the other bars have closed, and I’m tired, so I go to bed. I haven’t done any partying here,” she said dryly.

  “Do you drink?”

  “I have a license, and I do make use of it.” Her eyes narrowed. “I would never drink at work, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  Rashid opened his mouth to shoot another question, but Amira cut him off. “This is not a good idea,” she warned.

  “I think it’s an excellent idea,” Rashid said, and it seemed to Mila as if he suddenly relaxed. “Mila, I’m about to offer you the job of a lifetime.”

  “Does it include travel?” she joked.

  “You want to travel?” he asked, a note of curiosity in his voice. “That could probably be arranged. I’m offering you a m
arriage of convenience. We’ll marry by the end of the week, and as sheikha, you’d certainly be able to accompany me on business trips. You’ll be compensated well—as long as you do exactly as I say.”

  Stunned, Mila stared at him. He was offering her the same thing that Asad had offered Liyah. Obviously, the competitive streak ran deeply in him. She let his offer sink in as she chewed on the inside of her cheek. She needed to handle this as carefully as possible.

  Finally, she stood and tugged on her blazer. “I appreciate your willingness to speak to me, but I applied to be a waitress, not to sell my body and my future to a wealthy asshole who thinks that such a thing is an acceptable offer to make.”

  Amira stood, guilt written all over her face. “Mila, please hear us out.”

  “Does Liyah even know that you’re doing this?” Mila demanded.

  Rashid’s features shuttered closed.

  She had her answer. “We’re done here.”

  With as much dignity as she could, she marched out and tried not to think about the consequences her actions might have.

  Rashid gritted his teeth as he watched the beautiful woman walk out the door. He couldn’t even remember the last time someone had spoken to him with such disrespect—someone outside his family, that is.

  “I told you this was a horrible idea,” Amira grumbled as she perched on the table. “She’s going to tell Liyah, and Liyah is going to kill me. Why couldn’t you pick some other woman, someone we don’t know, to marry you?”

  “I want her,” Rashid said simply. He couldn’t explain it. At first, he’d thought that she might make the perfect docile wife, but now he had seen the fire inside the woman. She was wild, and he wanted to tether her to his side and keep that fire all to himself. It was a feral reaction that he’d never felt before, but he knew that what he’d offered Mila wasn’t even close to what he wanted now.