Her Billionaire Sheikh Read online

  “Goodbye, Quinn. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “Reese—”

  She cut him off mid-sentence with a flick of the button and a satisfying click of her mic in her purse.

  Before the party, she had felt so tired. Exhausted at the prospect of marking yet another billionaire. She’d been so ready to give it all up. Sure, there was the adventure and the habit of accomplishing hard things over the years. But she was also fed up with the deception. Leading two lives.

  In the back of her head, she knew Quinn wouldn’t let her go without a fight, and she would most likely come crawling back to him anyway, like a sorry dog. But she had to try to pave a new life. Her soul depended on it.

  If she still had one.

  Taking a deep breath, she turned slowly. She was sure Samir would have gone off to socialize with others, but he was still waiting at the spot where she’d left him, watching her.

  For one moment, she couldn’t think. The moonlight cast a glow on his face, and his eyes gleamed. Energy surged within her. This quarry was interesting.

  As she climbed halfway up the set of stairs, a flash of memory came to her, of her father standing over her when she was a little girl. She was crying over a bully at school.

  “Fight them, Nerissa,” he said, calling her by her real name. “Don’t let them win. You have to show courage.”

  And she did. He was right.

  But she wondered, what if he had taught about kindness instead?

  Reese reached Samir’s side. He had been talking to a couple, but they drifted away, as though by some unspoken cue from him. These billionaires had magical abilities, she could swear.

  “Everything all right at home?” he asked.

  “At home?” She panicked a little at his choice of words.

  He frowned. “It was your brother, right?”

  “Oh. Yes. Yes, everything is all right.”

  “Good.”

  They both faced out to sea, the breeze moist and cool on her face. “Do you have brothers?” she asked, hoping to resuscitate their awkward conversation.

  “I do. Several by two wives.”

  She nodded.

  “My mother died giving birth to me. But she gave my father an heir. For all intents and purposes, my stepmother raised me as her biological child.”

  “Ah, I see.”

  “Perhaps you thought we still have plural marriages here?”

  “I read somewhere that a man can have more than one wife if he is wealthy enough.”

  “Ah, yes. Personally, I plan to break with tradition. One wife is enough trouble.” His eyes glimmered with amusement. “You seem to have studied a lot about Morocco.”

  “I wanted to know more if I was traveling here.”

  “Smart. How long are you staying for?”

  “I haven’t decided yet.”

  “What does it depend on?”

  She shrugged. “On whether or not I’m done with my adventure here.”

  “What does your plane ticket say?”

  “I bought a one-way ticket.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Indeed. So you are one of those they call ‘footloose and fancy-free’?”

  “I suppose.” She hesitated, smiling. “Although, there are some things I need to take care of back home.”

  “Such as?”

  “My brother, for one. He’s high-maintenance.”

  They laughed.

  If only Samir knew he was the reason for Quinn’s atrociousness, he wouldn’t find this all too funny.

  Quinn’s words bounced around her head. Make the sheikh fall in love with you now. Get engaged now. Get the jewels now.

  Quinn was impossible.

  If only she didn’t owe him everything.

  Samir intruded into her thoughts. “What are you thinking of?”

  “Just…going back to Italy. Though I think Morocco is wearing nicely on me.”

  “You’ll have to tell me more,” he murmured. “Soon. Alas, I see some guests leaving, and I must play the part of dutiful host.”

  “Please,” she said, “don’t let me keep you.”

  For a heartbeat, his gaze swept over her cheek, her lips, the hollow of her neck where her pulse raced at his close scrutiny. She told herself she was just nervous that he was going to find her out. And also because he seemed to find her attractive. Her job was almost too easy…

  “Come with me,” he said.

  “Where?” she asked stupidly.

  “To say goodbye to my guests.” He tugged at her hand.

  It was a dream, him touching her, even though briefly. He was taking the initiative, which meant that perhaps by the end of the evening, they might even exchange a kiss.

  That would make her job even easier.

  As he said pleasantries in parting to his guests, she cast a furtive glance at his mouth. For a second, his glance stayed on her.

  Her cheeks warmed when she realized he had caught her staring. She wrenched her gaze away and pretended to be in the know with everyone saying goodbye. Most of them were simply respectful of Reese. Some were genuinely bewildered, trying to rack their brains to figure out who she was. Reese just smiled and waved them on.

  A few remained, and she could tell they were not going to leave the overflowing fountain of fabulous wine and food, not without someone prying them off with a crane.

  “You were simply marvelous,” he said when the last batch of guests left.

  “Smiling and saying goodbye, anyone could do that,” she said, but she blushed with pleasure.

  The live band played a slow number. Nothing she recognized. Jazzy along the lines of Harry J. Connick Jr.’s songs. Sensual. Hypnotic.

  When Samir took her in his arms to move to the music, she reveled in how broad his shoulders were and his mysterious musk scent. She could feel his eyes on her and flicked her glance up to his. She was drowning, drowning in the sensations of his nearness and the warmth of his hand clasping hers as his other hand shored her up at the waist, moving to the beat.

  The music ended to polite applause, but still Samir didn’t let her go. She had to step back, and he let her go reluctantly. His eyes devoured her.

  He would be an easy mark. It was almost a shame she’d have to let him down someday.

  By the time she left the party, it was almost three. Everyone else had gone home. Forced home, more like it. Samir simply gave the word, and his staff scuttled any hangers-on.

  The not-quite-dawn had taken on a timeless quality, as though the pendulum had slowed and there was no urgency in anyone’s movements. In Samir’s nor Reese’s. They strolled along the beach and palm trees, shadowed by Samir’s bodyguards. The surf was high and unruly, loud and ferocious. It echoed the pounding of Reese’s heart when Samir stopped and turned to her.

  “I have enjoyed being with you so much,” he murmured.

  She waited to see what else he would declare. She felt the same way, but the jewels tainted whatever feeling she had. Made her less anxious to explore her emotions.

  Finally, she smiled and said, “Me too.”

  She took off her strappy sandal heels and slung them over her shoulder. She knew he was watching her as she made her way to the shallows and sank her feet into the soft sand.

  He joined her, taking off his shoes and rolling up his pant legs. It was funny to see this grown billionaire playing in the surf like a little boy.

  Their eyes met. He looked almost shy, hesitant. He hadn’t been that way at the party while in the public eye, and she wondered if his gregariousness was simply his outward persona. She could picture him wanting a quiet night at home, were they to be married, sharing a chaise lounge together, snuggled under a lap quilt with their own separate books.

  Dream on, Reese, she told herself. Other people might have a happily ever after, but not her. Not with her occupation.

  Side by side, they returned to the grand balcony where staff was cleaning all traces of a bacchanal feast.

  “Would you like a ride to you
r lodging?” he asked.

  “That would be nice,” she said, though she grappled with how to end their night on a promising note.

  She had seduction down to a science. Just a little push and pull, a dance to intrigue a man, but no more. She wanted to reel him in for more.

  It almost made her sad that she was party to such deviousness. But her life was made up of such moments, some bigger than others. This was her last heist, and she would leave the profession with a bang.

  In the limo, they were quiet. He sat relaxed, having taken off his bow tie and loosened the top buttons at his collar. He looked very male, virile. If she were a green girl, he might have overwhelmed her more. As it was, she could simply appreciate him for the specimen of male beauty that he was.

  “Did you enjoy yourself?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said, sounding breathless to her ears. They sat so far apart, but it wouldn’t do to slide down close to him. It was awkward at that point.

  The limo entered an empty plaza with shuttered shops and a handful of people whiling into the night. The driver parked next to a building that glowed an unearthly orange in the moonlight.

  “I will walk you to your riad,” Samir offered.

  Behind them, Jason the bodyguard followed at a discreet distance. Old-fashioned electric lights lit the alley with three-story buildings made of traditional materials. At the end of the alley was Reese’s riad, a traditional home turned into a bed and breakfast.

  Reese didn’t know what to expect from Samir next. On the one hand, she wanted to hurry their relationship along. A goodnight kiss would cement the next date, and the next. If she had any hope of going down the engagement rabbit hole with him, she needed to encourage him.

  On the other hand, her heart rebelled. She was tired of this life, tired of the deception. She could tell Quinn that Samir slipped out of her hand like a fish, and he would be none the wiser.

  And yet…part of her wanted to see more of Samir.

  He had kind eyes, and he’d done that gallant gesture of saving her neck when he could have thrown her into the dungeons. It spoke volumes about him as a person. If she were just a regular girl looking for a regular man—notwithstanding his billionaire status—she would pick him.

  Besides, no one had ever truly performed an act of kindness for her without extolling some sort of exchange.

  Not her first real boyfriend, Tony. Not the three or so other men she’d dated over the years. Never more than kisses. She wasn’t reckless like the other girls in her circle, getting pregnant out of wedlock.

  They stopped at the riad door, the silence of the night almost loud in its stillness. She reached for the knob and turned to him.

  He gazed at her, his face in the shadows. The moon outlined his head in silhouette.

  “May I see you again?” he asked.

  May he?

  Quinn would say, Yes. Tell me where to show up for the wedding.

  Old Reese would have said, Of course.

  This Reese wanted to say, No. Run away while you still can. Not just Samir, but her too.

  She said, “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know?” He sounded amused.

  “I wanted to travel around,” she said. “I wouldn’t know where to tell you I’ll be.”

  “I can easily travel around the country too. I’m not available for the next two days, but I could be for the weekend.”

  He had left his invitation open-ended. Not groveling. Good. She wouldn’t have any respect for him had he groveled.

  “I’m thinking of traveling down to Port Eggai. Spend a couple of days there and follow the coast.”

  “By car?”

  “By train from here, and then I do have a rental car.”

  “Cancel the car, and I can drive you along the coast.”

  Quinn 1. Samir 0.

  “Surely, I shouldn’t impose on you,” she said. “You have a kingdom to run, don’t you?”

  “Yes, but like I said, I have the weekend to do whatever I want with whomever I want.”

  Spoken like an entitled prince…who also happened to be a surprisingly down-to-earth man.

  “I don’t know what to say.” She really didn’t.

  “Say yes.”

  Yes to what? Trapping him? Possibly loving him? Danger and deception?

  “Okay.” She turned the knob. “Yes.”

  If he hoped for a kiss, she was already halfway through the door. “Wait,” he said.

  She paused and looked over her shoulder.

  “Can I have your number?” he asked.

  “What’s yours? I can call you.”

  She opened her purse to get a notepad and pen, when her direct recorder to Quinn spilled out. Her breath caught in her throat. He bent down and picked it up, looking at it curiously.

  “Are you a journalist?” he asked.

  “No,” she said. “I communicate with my brother that way. I record a message and then feed it to my laptop.” She hoped her voice sounded calm. Her insides sure felt anything but calm.

  “Mmm. Interesting.” He handed her the device. “I’ve never seen one like that.”

  Good thinking, Reese. Almost made up for such a stupid blunder.

  Her fingers trembled as she scoured her purse. It had been a close call, and still could be. She fished out a piece of note paper and pen and wrote down his number.

  Samir leaned forward, his low baritone thrilling in her ear as he recited the numbers.

  “Thank you,” she said, closing her purse and making her escape once again. He didn’t try to stop her this time. “Good night.”

  “Good night,” he said, those dark eyes following her into the riad before she closed the door.

  4

  Samir didn’t realize how much he needed the vacation until he was flying in his little Cessna on Friday afternoon. He loved his little plane, loved the sensation of freedom, aloft in the skies over Morocco. Jason had accompanied him, as usual. His bodyguard sat in the back with his shades, stoic and ready for any emergency.

  Samir had made sure to put Axel in his place. His head bodyguard had apologized plenty before once again assuming the professional demeanor Samir had come to expect from his multi-million dollar contract with Parker Protection Services. The crown prince of Morocco had full confidence in the American company. They had proven their mettle time and time again, including foiling an assassination attempt a year before, and they were the model of discretion. Axel just needed a little reminder.

  As his body calmed as it always did when he flew, he thought of Reese. She had left him a cryptic text message, “Come see me?” and he’d tried to call her for her address on that number between meetings, but she didn’t answer. Instead, she texted the information.

  So mysterious. So enticing.

  He noted the little puffs of clouds with pleasure as he dipped the plane nose slightly down to start his descent. Below, Eggai’s desert landscape merged into the blinding-blue turquoise of the Mediterranean Sea. He began the descent in earnest, Eggai’s legendary white houses with blue doors and accents coming into view. The plane touched down with the little bump he’d perfected over the years, and Samir guided it into a private hangar in the coastal town’s little airport. Within minutes, a valet wheeled around his gold BMW to where Samir waited with Jason. Jason got into his own sleek black sedan.

  Samir pulled out of the airport and down the highway that hugged the coast of Port Eggai. It was a vacationer’s paradise with its white-sand beaches and rural setting, but the houses that had been built onto a cliff were the draw.

  He saw them now, blindingly white in the distance, with the occasional royal blue asserting itself from angles. Pleasure unfurled in his chest over his countrymen’s talent for beauty.

  Reese was staying in a bed and breakfast along the cliff’s foothills. He could invite her to stay in his beachside home, but he wanted to pursue her the old-fashioned way. Some girls would have thrown themselves at him upon their first meeting. He and
Reese hadn’t even kissed.

  This was a date after all. At the thought, Samir’s hands turned clammy. He hadn’t been on a date since his last girlfriend left him for Oxford. He didn’t want to use a billionaire matchmaking service—been there, done that—or wait for his mother to set him up with her royal friends. This would be interesting.

  He pulled up at the address and parked. Samir heard Reese before he saw her. She was talking to someone and laughing. As he turned a corner, she was a vision in a long dress with embroidery on the front, her blonde hair framing her face as she stood on the stairs of her Airbnb. The turquoise color of her robe mirrored the sky.

  Her companion looked to be a local, with cropped hair, a white shirt, and shorts. Together, they were a head-turning couple.

  Irritation rose within him. He hadn’t traveled all this way just to figure into some love triangle.

  “See you later,” she told the man, who glanced at Samir curiously, a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes for getting a rise out of him, was Samir’s guess.

  “Hello,” she told Samir before smiling and stopping on a step.

  She was gorgeous. Any irritation he’d felt just moments before fled. The sight of her parted pink lips and happy eyes drew him in and crowded out any ill will.

  “Hello,” he said, his voice husky.

  She walked slowly toward him, as though she were a goddess who was now coming down from heaven to be with a mere mortal. Stopping just an arm’s length away, she overwhelmed his senses. He caught the sweet scent of roses, and her eyes were a dazzling blue, enhanced by her robe.

  He caught a fold of her dress between his fingers. “This is a beautiful dress.”

  “I got it today,” she said, her gaze not leaving his.

  Attraction sizzled between them. At least, he was aware of it for himself. He had forgotten how beautiful she was, but he was careful not to stress her good looks. She seemed to take exception to being judged based on her looks.

  Though he wanted very much to pull her close, he let his hand fall.

  “Have you been enjoying yourself?” he asked.

  “Very much so. I haven’t done a thing.”

  “Probably the best kind of vacation,” he said.