The Sheikh's Pretend Bride (Qazhar Sheikhs series Book 2) (2 page)

"What can I help you with, Miss Brant? Can I offer you a refreshment?"

Her eyes flashed with a firm determination. "The first thing you can do is explain to me and the world's media just what you intend to do to fix the pollution you are personally responsible for on the border of your kingdom," she said.

Her American accent cut into Raz, but he realized he found the sound of her voice strangely appealing.
 

Raz opened his mouth, preparing his reply. Before he had a chance to say anything, Ella thrust her body forward in her chair. "And please don't try denying your own personal part in all of this, Mr Al Kharif," she said emphatically.

Raz was sure his face must have colored slightly and once again he was briefly at a loss for words. He wasn't used to women being so forthright with him. Not Raz Al Kharif, the Sheikh With The Reputation, as he had come to be known as. Usually every woman he came into contact with knew exactly who he was; the wealth of his family; the power that came with that. And, those women normally did everything possible to ingratiate themselves with the powerful oil sheikh. That was what Raz was used to.

But this woman? She wasn't anything like those.

"Well, Mr Al Kharif?" Ella Brant asked curtly. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

Raz suppressed the laugh that rose within him. It wouldn't do to mock this woman; meet her challenge with derision. She was obviously earnest about her cause and unafraid to fight for what she believed in.

No.

This woman would require an entirely different approach, Raz told himself.

Ella Brant was one determined woman. It would be interesting to see how far he could take her, Raz realized.

CHAPTER TWO

How dare he look at her like that, Ella said to herself. Who did he think he was? Ella wanted to reach over and wipe that smug look off his face, even if it was an unreasonably handsome face. In fact, Ella had to admit that the reason she had tripped on the carpet had been because she had been taken aback by just how handsome the Sheikh was. That wasn't exactly the first impression she'd wanted to make.

On the flight to Qazhar, she had thought about her impending visit to the kingdom on behalf of the charity for which she worked. Ella had assumed that the Sheikh, who ran the oil operation of Qazhar, would be an unattractive, elderly man with antiquated ways. Nothing had prepared her for the sight of the gloriously elegant and sexy man who had risen from his chair as she had entered the room. He was quite simply breathtaking.
 

Ella leaned back in her chair, awaiting his response to her challenge. She looked across and saw his dark brows furrow. His chocolate brown eyes moved slightly as if he were deliberating. His lips became a thin line, and his nostrils seemed to flare slightly. She heard him draw in a deep, slow breath. The man oozed sex appeal.

"Where can we start?" he asked finally. His gaze settled on Ella's face. There was a challenge there, she thought.
 

"We could start with an explanation," she declared.

His brows rose. "Explanation?" He seemed mildly amused which only succeeded in provoking Ella.

"About how you intend to fix the situation," she stated.

The Sheikh smiled at Ella. She felt something tumble inside herself at the sight of that smile. It was warm and slightly menacing all at the same time. It had a confident, even arrogant quality.

"It would be helpful, surely, if we addressed ourselves in a more courteous manner. Wouldn't you agree, Ella?" he said.

"I think courtesy is the least of the problems here, Mr. Al Kharif," Ella said.

He smiled. "Please. Call me Raz," he said slowly. His voice had a thick velvet quality that resonated in the space between them. She could imagine that voice in other settings, and how it might affect more susceptible women than herself.

"If you insist, Raz," she said after a pause. He seemed genuinely pleased by her agreement.
 

"In my kingdom, we place great store on manners and the virtues of behaving with decorum," Raz said.

"Is that so?" Ella replied. "I guess that kind of thing must be lost on the tribe whose existence is being threatened by the pollution created by your aggressive oil exploration activities," she stated.

Raz shook his head emphatically. "On the contrary. Those tribes-folk are every bit as noble and valued as any other citizen of our kingdom," he replied.

"Citizens?" Ella retorted. "Is that why they are being treated like that?"

Raz glanced away, and she could see that he was trying to maintain composure. He looked back at Ella. There was a firmness in his gaze which had been absent a moment before. "Let me tell you something about my kingdom, Miss Brant." Ella noted the change in how he addressed her, sensing the seriousness in his voice. "We pride ourselves on being a progressive, forward-looking kingdom. We ensure that all our people benefit from the wealth of our kingdom."

Ella exhaled a disbelieving grunt. She saw Raz's eyes narrow, but he continued. "We have made significant changes to the provision of health and education for all of our people. No-one is excluded who wishes to be part of the great changes which have taken place in this country in my lifetime."

"Changes which have benefitted your family," Ella said.

"Of course. There is nothing wrong with that," he said. His brows furrowed. "Or do you disapprove of that also, Ella?"

Ella turned away, desperate not to look into his penetrating eyes. "That's not for me to judge."

"Oh, but I think you do, Ella. I think you do judge myself and my family's interests, very much. It seems to be something that outsiders feel comfortable doing. Deciding how we should live our lives."

"That's not it at all," Ella stated firmly. "It's just that you have obligations."

"And it is your job to hold me to account for those obligations?" he asked, raising a disbelieving brow.

Ella watched him lean back in his chair. His shoulders were wide, his chest firm looking beneath the clean-cut dark suit. He clasped his large hands across the front of his narrow waist. He was waiting for an answer from her; waiting for her to justify her interference in his affairs.

Before she had entered the room Ella had decided it would be best to take the lead in this discussion. After all, it was a negotiation. She was sure the Sheikh hadn't appreciated the publicity the media coverage of the border problem. It was her job to expose the kind of thing which was happening miles away on the coast of his kingdom. People were suffering, and Ella had devoted so much of her life to fighting for justice, that she knew she couldn't simply turn her back on the plight of those people.

"The world is a smaller place than it was, Mr. Al Kharif," Ella said.
 

"And the world believes it has an interest in my kingdom. Is that right?"

Ella drew in a deep breath. This wasn't going the way she had planned. She had expected that the threat of continued media exposure would force the sheikh to comply with her demands. Instead, she had been taken aback by his sheer presence; the forcefulness of his determination to defend his position. Perhaps she had underestimated him.

As if sensing her unease, Raz leaned forward and placed his elbows on the desk. "Tell me about yourself, Ella," he said quietly. His eyes fixed upon her and she felt something flutter softly, and unexpectedly in her middle.
 

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

Raz waved a hand casually. "You've come a long way to see me. Where do you hail from?"

"I haven't come to see you, as you put it," she declared, a note of defiance in her voice. "I have many other people to see while I am here."

Not responding to what she had said, Raz glanced across at his laptop. "I understand you are from Philadelphia," he said off-handedly. The sound of Ella's home city was odd on his tongue. His eyes flickered back to her, a question in them.

Ella shifted in her seat and tucked one heeled foot behind the other. She didn't want this conversation to turn personal. Her own history was irrelevant in all of this. He had no right to ask her anything about her background.

"I prefer not to talk about myself," she said firmly. She stiffened in the chair.
 

Raz leaned his head to one side. "And I prefer to know who has come all this way to pry into my affairs."

Ella felt her face color. "I have not come to meddle in your business," she blurted out. "If that's how you feel, why don't you have me thrown out?"

Raz smiled, which only served to infuriate Ella even more. "Now, that would give the TV people real fodder to attack me with, wouldn't it? The sight of a distressed charity representative being thrown out of my kingdom. Why do I feel that would suit you to a tee, Ella?" he said, his lip curling into a sardonic smile.

He was playing with her, Ella realized with a sudden start. The man thought he had her in the palm of his hand, and he was toying with her.
 

Ella sucked in a calming breath and peered at Raz. "I am here as a representative of my employer," she said raising a brow. "The charity, as you so cynically call it."

"I understand charity," he declared.

"You do?" she demanded.

"It is all about aiding the vulnerable. Offering a helping hand to those less capable of looking after themselves and their loved ones. However, unlike in the West, we in Qazhar have our own version of charity," Raz said, giving Ella a firm look. "It is called tradition. We never turn our backs on those of our people who are in need."

Ella was surprised by the vehemence of his last statement. He actually sounded as if he meant what he had said. Her first impressions of Raz had been that he was a man in his late twenties who was used to all the good things in life. Everything had been laid on a plate for him. She could see that in his demeanor. She could imagine the life of privilege he had lived; the education; the palaces; the connections and, last but not least, the women. She thrust her attention away from that intrusive thought.

"Then why have you turned your back on the border tribe?" Ella asked.

Raz's brows furrowed. "As you are already aware, our investigations into your allegations have proven nothing substantial..."
 

"But, the videos," Ella interrupted. "You can't possibly deny the evidence."

Raz waved a hand to the side as if pretending he hadn't heard her. "Videos can be faked."

"Faked!" Ella exclaimed. "Are you accusing me of lying?"

"I am not accusing you of any such thing. Merely that you may have been misled."

"By whom?"

Raz frowned and stood up from his chair. Ella watched him turn and look out the windows at the cityscape below. Until this moment, she hadn't realized just how tall he was. But now that had his back to her she could see how long his legs were, how narrow his hips, how wide his chest. Raz had the absolutely perfect proportions of a man who lived an active life. She could imagine him swimming, playing polo, riding through the desert. His body was one that had been sculpted by an outdoor life, not by days spent behind a desk.

"I have enemies, Miss. Brant," Raz said as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Enemies?" she exclaimed. The word sounded somehow out of place within the tidy, clean confines of the luxuriously appointed office.

Ella heard Raz sigh, and when he turned to look at her, she could see the sudden gravity in his gaze. "There are people who would like to see me fail. They would like to see my family fail, and lose control of our resources; lose the influence we have with our neighbors. And they will do almost anything to achieve those ends."

Raz moved slowly around the side of the table. Ella watched him move, momentarily transfixed by the smooth certainty of his presence. Raz came to the front of the desk and leaned back against it. His long legs stretched out by the side of Ella's chair. She caught a hint of his scent, a mixture of lemons and something sweet.
 

Ella looked up at Raz. Once again she was struck by the new solemnity in his gaze. "This is not a place for the unwary," he said.

"I know my way around. I've been here before, or have you forgotten that?"

"You may think you understand my kingdom, Miss Brant, but there are many things which could pose a danger to you."

Ella felt her jaw tighten, and she flashed a hard look at him. "Are you threatening me, Mr. Al Kharif?"

Raz paused, and Ella watched his hands grip the side of the table. His knuckles whitened, and he dipped his head down slightly. "I would never threaten a woman," he declared. "That is beyond the pale."

Ella knew in an instant that she had touched a raw nerve with him. "Then what exactly are you saying?"

Ella saw Raz's nostrils flare like those of a wild desert horse. He looked so feral at that moment, so primal that it almost took her breath away.

"I think you may be best advised to take the first plane out and return to America," he said. Immediately upon saying that he leaned back and sighed. Ella felt he had struggled to get the words out, almost as if he hadn't really wanted to say them.

"I won't be going anywhere," Ella stated. "I just got here. And I have some more meetings lined up."

Raz's brows rose, and he grunted in apparent frustration. "With whom?"

Ella frowned. "Why would you want to know that?"

"I know who it is advisable to be seen with, and who is not."

"I'm used to taking care of myself," Ella declared raising her chin and fixing Raz with a look.

Raz's eyes narrowed. "I have my own security detail. They are most efficient. If you insist on staying, perhaps they could accompany you to whatever meetings you have lined up."

"And let you find out who I'm meeting with? I don't think so," Ella said firmly.

"It is not my intention to pry. Merely to ensure your safety while you are a guest in my kingdom."

There was that tone again, Ella thought. The magisterial expression which seemed to come so naturally to him.
 

Ella pushed back the chair and stood. Even on her heels, she still had to look up into his face. His gaze met hers and there was a fresh defiance in his eyes, as if he was enjoying the combat between them.