The Greek Billionaire's Counterfeit Bride (14 page)

Chapter Four

The door closed behind her and Penny took a moment to look around the office, as Al-Zeban stepped across the floor and took a seat behind an enormous, ornately carved desk.

The office was utterly silent except for the ticking of an ancient-looking clock on one wall, and it was even more sumptuous than the gallery had been. The carpet under her feet was so dense that Penny almost stumbled as she stepped across it in her heels. One part of the office was obviously an informal meeting area, with low couches surrounding a dark, gleaming coffee table, along with a small service station to one side.
For all that he probably has an executive bathroom, with a shower and a steam closet, behind one of those doors over there,
Penny thought irrelevantly as she turned to face the Sheikh.

“Please have a seat,” Al-Zeban said, gesturing to the chair on the other side of his massive desk.

Reluctantly, Penny took the final few steps and sat down, wondering if he’d intentionally chosen the chair on her side of the desk to be lower than the one he occupied.

“I can’t express how sorry I am that I intruded on your space,” Penny said, folding her hands on her lap and meeting the Sheikh’s gaze. “I honestly didn’t intend to try and find this floor; I was so distracted after the interview that I must have pressed the wrong button.”

The Sheikh raised one eyebrow slightly, holding his silence and looking at her intently. Penny felt uncomfortably aware of every faux pas she’d committed since stepping into the building, as well as every inch of skin that wasn’t covered up by her skirt, blazer, blouse and heels.

“I wish that there was some way that I could make up for the vase—I mean, it’s clearly priceless…” Penny licked her lips, trying to even imagine how much the vase could have possibly cost. “I’d be happy to do research to find a replacement for you.” The Sheikh remained silent, and Penny found herself continuing. “Or—I could see if I could find someone—maybe at UIC or DePaul—who could put it back together.” Penny swallowed against the dryness in her throat. “I mean after all, archaeologists find smashed vases all the time and manage to put them back together so well that you’d never know…”

Penny lapsed into silence after a few more moments, watching as the CEO of Zeban Industries watched her. Her initial impression of him—the fact that his striking looks would set him apart even if he weren’t wealthy—came back to haunt her, making it more difficult for her to focus on the gravity of her misdeed. As the silence between them deepened, Penny thought she saw the Sheikh’s lips twitch in something like a wry smile—just for a moment, and then the expression was gone.
He might not be that angry about it, after all,
she thought with a slight trickle of relief down her spine.
I mean, how hard would it be for him to replace it, or find something similar? He’s a billionaire; it’s not like it would cost him that much, comparatively speaking.

She pressed her lips together as a quick flush of heat worked through her body. “I’ll do
anything
to make this right,” Penny said, her cheeks warming with a blush as she thought of how cheesy that might sound—and how inappropriate. If she’d read the Sheikh wrong, she was in for much more trouble instead of less.

“Anything?” Al-Zeban said, raising an eyebrow slowly. “You’re willing to do anything to make this terrible destruction to my priceless personal property right?”

Penny hesitated for just a moment, her blush deepening, before she nodded. “Anything at all,” she replied.

Al-Zeban pressed his fingertips to his lips for a moment, glancing down at his desk. He nodded slowly and then met her gaze once more. “Stand up, Ms. Pritchard,” he said sharply.

Almost before she could consciously decide to obey the command, Penny stood, smoothing her skirt against her thighs.

“That won’t be necessary,” Al-Zeban told her.

Penny glanced at him in confusion and he half-smiled slowly.

“Take off your blazer.”

Penny’s heart beat faster in her chest, but she set her purse down on the chair behind her. Her hands trembled as she reached up to the top button on her blazer. Somehow—without being told—she knew he wanted her to take it off slowly; that he wanted her to take her time.

She held the Sheikh’s gaze as she moved from one button to the next. She lifted the material at her shoulders and tugged it down one arm and then the other, letting the blazer fall to the floor at her feet. “Like that?”

The Sheikh nodded, his gaze trailing over her body slowly. “Your blouse next,” he told her.

Penny paused—just for an instant—uncertain of if she really wanted to go forward with what Al-Zeban seemed to have in mind.
He might make you strip and then call the cops. Or have security come and escort you out of the building naked. You don’t even know him!
But curiosity welled up in her, and the amusement in the Sheikh’s eyes made her more interested to see what he had in mind.

Penny untucked her blouse from her skirt and began unbuttoning it slowly, revealing the skin and bra underneath inch by inch. Al-Zeban’s gaze remained intently focused on her, his expression almost stoic.

She slipped the fabric of her blouse off of her body, casting the shirt onto the floor with her blazer. Only then did the Sheikh let his gaze wander, taking in the subtle curve from her bust to her waist to her hips and then back up to her face.

“You did say anything,” he pointed out.

Penny nodded, pressing her lips together as she resisted the urge to fidget. Whether because of the cool air in the office or her own excitement, she could feel her nipples beginning to harden and strain at the lace of her bra.
He can probably see them,
she thought, her sense of vulnerability deepening.
Oh God, what if he wants me to keep going?

The Sheikh shifted slightly in his chair, steepling his fingers in front of his face. “The skirt,” he told her.

Penny swallowed against the tightness in her throat and reached around to her back, where the zipper was. Without looking, her fingertips found the hook-and-eye, and she managed to free it, before tugging the zipper down. She bit her lip, hesitating for just a moment before she came to a decision.

She turned around, her back to the Sheikh, and hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her skirt, pushing the material slowly down over her hips. She bent forward as she guided the fabric along her legs, past her knees, letting it pool at her feet.
Clearly he wants to enjoy the view—I might as well let him,
she thought wryly.

Penny straightened, stepping out of her skirt and turning around to face the CEO once more. She pushed down the urge to grin; he was definitely showing more interest than he had a moment before, his eyes darkening, his lips opening ever so slightly.

Under his intent gaze, Penny could feel the slight ache in her nipples, the cool air of the office brushing against her inner thighs. She was shocked to realize that her pussy was already wet; she could feel her fluids beginning to soak through the lacy fabric of her panties.

“Take off your bra,” Al-Zeban told her, his voice ever so slightly hoarse.

Penny licked her bottom lip, wondering when her mouth had become so dry. She slid first one and then the other bra strap down over her shoulders, then reached around to her back. Her heart pounding, Penny unhooked the clasp of her bra, and carefully held the material against her chest. She took a quick, deep breath and then slowly lifted the thin fabric away from her skin, letting it drop to the floor in front of her. Her breasts shook slightly, freed from the confines of the bra, and Penny saw Al-Zeban’s gaze focus on them, one eyebrow twitching in an upward movement that Penny interpreted as approval.

“Take your panties off—but leave the shoes on,” Al-Zeban said after an agonizing moment.

Penny nodded, taking a quick, deep breath to steady her nerves. Acting on impulse, she turned her back to the Sheikh. She hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her panties and hesitated for just a moment, glancing over her shoulder. The Sheikh watched her with intense interest, his gaze trailing over her body from head to toe, waiting patiently for her compliance. Penny tugged her panties down over her hips and slowly along the length of her legs, bending forward to give him the best possible view as she did so. She felt the blood rush into her face as the garment fell to her feet, then kicked her feet free of the panties, steeling herself.

She turned slowly to face the Sheikh and forced herself to stand still as she faced him, naked to his gaze, feeling more vulnerable than she could remember ever having felt before. Penny suppressed the whimper she could feel building in her throat as Al-Zeban took in every inch of her naked body, slowly letting his gaze caress her, lingering at her breasts, at her hips, at her exposed vulva.

“Very good,” he said, after what felt like an eternity.

“Thank you—I think,” Penny said, resisting the urge to cover herself with her hands.

Al-Zeban’s lips twitched in a brief smile. “Now,” the Sheikh said, sitting back in his seat, “there are a few things I’d like you to do for me.”

Penny swallowed again before nodding. “Okay,” she said quietly.

“My desk is a mess,” Al-Zeban said, gesturing to the scattered paperwork and other items littering the surface. “Straighten it for me.”

Penny’s eyebrow twitched, but she immediately moved to comply, stepping closer to the desk and looking over the clutter for a moment. She determined what everything was—piles of stationery, printed out documents, tchotchkes, and all—and went to work, focusing on the task the Sheikh had assigned her.

She was acutely aware of her nudity as she moved around, stacking the stationery and positioning it in a neat pile, flipping through the printouts and documents to sort them. She could feel Al-Zeban’s gaze on her, lingering on her anatomy as she went about straightening his clutter.
What is this? Why would he have me strip down if all he wanted was to have me clean up his desk?

She stepped back as she completed her task, only then daring to meet the CEO’s gaze. Penny raised an eyebrow in silent question: was that enough?

Al-Zeban looked away from her to glance at the surface of his desk, nodding his approval. “Do you see the service set over there?” He pointed to where Penny had seen the couches and the station, on the other side of the office, and she nodded. “Go over there, pour me two fingers of cognac, and bring it to me.”

Penny felt her body tingling all over, hot and cold flashes of sensation coursing through her; she turned and walked towards the service station, able to feel Al-Zeban watching her every step of the way.

For a moment, as she stared at the bottles arranged on the sideboard, Penny wondered at the strange feelings that filled her mind and body; in spite of how humiliating the commands were—maybe even because of it—she could feel herself becoming more and more aroused by the moment. She pressed her legs together; she was soaking wet, so turned she could feel the slickness extending down past her labia and onto her inner thighs.

Penny spotted the cognac bottle and quickly found an appropriate glass. Her hands trembled as she opened the bottle, and she cringed as the glass neck clattered slightly against the top of the snifter. She poured out two fingers’ worth of the amber-colored liquor and set the bottle down, putting the stopper back. She felt nervous; she was exquisitely aware of every jiggle, every movement of her body, as she turned with the glass in her hand and walked back towards the desk, taking her time as much because she wasn’t sure her knees would function as because she knew instinctively that it was what the Sheikh wanted.

Penny set the glass down on the desktop, but Al-Zeban shook his head. “Come around to this side and put it in my hand,” he told her. Her heart beating faster in her chest, Penny nodded.

“Don’t do that,” Al-Zeban told her sharply. “As charming as your nods are, I want to hear you verbally accept my commands.”

Penny frowned in confusion, tilting her head to silently ask what exactly he meant.

“Say, ‘Yes, Sir.’”

“Yes, Sir,” Penny said, the words leaving her almost before she could consider their significance. Her cheeks burned with a blush; it had come so naturally—and some part of her had thrilled at the way the words sounded.