Rachelle glanced down at her rumpled, wet clothing before holding her hands out to either side.

“I don’t think we’re exactly dressed for the occasion,” she commented.

“Since when has that ever been a problem? Come, this way.”

He reached his hand out for her to take again, a habit that she was growing to like quite a lot. It felt so natural, strolling hand in hand down city streets, like they had been doing it for ages. He walked at a brisk pace, Rachelle keeping up with him as she did her best not to gaze up at his perfect profile. He stopped abruptly, and Rachelle nearly bumped into him as he turned and rang a bell on a building that she hadn’t bothered to notice.

“Yes?” a voice said through an intercom.

“It’s Darian,” he said.

“Your Highness! Please, come in.”

The door buzzed, and Darian opened it, leading the way up a set of stairs to another closed door. It flew open, and a beautiful woman with smooth, straight black hair held her arms out to them both with a wide smile.

“Darian! I wasn’t expecting you today!”

“Are you expecting me any time I pop in?”

“Of course not. With you, I know to always expect the unexpected.”

She glanced over at Rachelle with a friendly expression.

“You’ve brought a friend for us today,” she observed.

Darian nodded.

“Yes. This is Rachelle Smith. We met at the conference going on uptown, and we seem to have gotten ourselves into a bit of a mess.”

The woman’s eyes studied them both as she took them in.

“So you have. What can I help you with this time?”

“We need eveningwear. Fancy, but not ballroom fancy.”

The woman nodded.

“Got it. Why don’t I check out back and see what we have, and we’ll have the models come out momentarily.”

“Not a long show, please. We need to get going.”

Nodding with understanding, the woman led them to a pair of cushioned sofas and promised refreshments before she made an exit through another door. Moments later, another impeccably dressed young woman came out with a tray of sweet mint tea and some cookies.

“I am going to gain so much weight in your country.” Rachelle laughed, sinking her teeth into the moist confection.

Darian took his own bite, swallowing before he answered.

“Doubtful. You can walk anywhere. Besides, we had plenty of exercise this morning. Your figure remains exceptional.”

Rachelle blushed again. He tossed tiny compliments at her so easily. Was it possible that he felt the sensations she was experiencing being in his presence? Could this be mutual, or anything at all? Was it worth even thinking about?

Before she could think of something witty to say in return, a pair of doors opened up to the room at large, and a male and female model strutted out side by side. The woman was wearing a chic little black dress, and the man was wearing a suit that perfectly complemented it. Rachelle cast a sideways glance at Darian.

“So, you also just happen to have a private boutique for whenever you need to change clothes in the city?”

Darian glanced back at her.

“Of course. Doesn’t everyone?”

She watched him, trying to see if he was being serious. When the corner of his mouth twitched, she landed a playful swat on his rock-hard bicep.

She swallowed, imagining running her fingers along his bare skin right there. Turning back toward the little show, she watched as another pair walked out in a different ensemble, no less extravagant. Finally, the original pair walked out in a third set of outfits, and Rachelle gripped Darian’s arm.

“Oh, that’s the one, right there. That is the most beautiful dress I have ever seen!”

Darin smiled, waving his hand to the model, who took the signal and nodded before heading out back. He looked back at Rachelle.

“Then consider it my gift, for a lovely afternoon and dinner. I hope you’ll get the chance to wear it many more times.”

The owner returned with the dress hanging gently over her forearm. It was burgundy lace that draped slightly at the top and fluttered over the hips. The woman smiled at Rachelle as she held out a hand to help her up.

“Let’s make sure this fits you, then. Darian, you’ll have your suit in your dressing room. You know where to go.”

“Oh, now only the lady gets preferential treatment?” he scoffed.

The woman rolled her eyes at him as she laced her arm with Rachelle’s.

“Darling, when are you going to learn that the woman always gets preferential treatment?”

Rachelle met Darian’s gaze then, and his eyes were warm as they rested on her.

“I suppose you are right, as usual. See you in a few minutes?” he asked.

“Sure,” she said, not really certain what was happening. The whole afternoon had been a complete whirlwind, and now she was being personally fitted for a dress she could have only seen in her dreams. The woman pulled her into a private dressing room, and turned to busy herself as Rachelle undressed.

“Does Darian come here often?” Rachelle asked.

The woman nodded, seeing Rachelle’s state of undress and handing her the new outfit, which she draped delicately over her head. It fit her perfectly.

“He does. That fellow has to attend so many different types of events that he set us up here permanently so that he can change in a hurry.”

“Does he own these things?”

“Some of the suits. Otherwise, no. Most of these are the latest fashions from various runways. Darian always manages to stay in style, though I must take some credit for that!”

Rachelle turned as the woman zipped up the back of her dress, pulling here and there at the fabric.

“We seem to be in luck! You’ve managed to pick a dress that fits you beautifully. Well done!”

Rachelle laughed.

“I don’t think I can take much credit for that.”

“Nonsense. Now, let’s fix up the rest of you, shall we?”

Sitting her down in a chair, Rachelle watched the mirror before her as the woman untangled and restyled her hair into a series of delicate curls, pinned up with a tiny diamond-encrusted headband.

“Darian will return this, right?”

The woman shrugged.

“Maybe. He usually just pays the bill we send after his visits.”

Rachelle swallowed, trying not to think about how much the little hair piece must cost. Did Darian always treat people he just met with such generosity? Was it something she could accept?

Next, the woman opened up a medium sized box, where a diamond necklace sat, waiting to be placed about her neck.

Yeah, Rachelle could accept it.

She held her breath as the cool diamonds touched her skin. Finally, the woman expertly applied evening makeup, finishing Rachelle’s look, and transforming her entirely.

“We can have your clothing sent to your hotel, if you would like?”

“That would be great,” Rachelle replied, giving her the information before she was released from her chair.

The silken lace gown was so light and airy it felt like she was draped with a soft cloud. The designer opened the door once again, but before she let Rachelle out, she closed it ever so slightly.

“Wait. One last thing,” she said, opening a drawer and picking out a small vial.

She opened it, revealing a scent that resembled lilacs, but was even sweeter, and dabbed a small amount of it on Rachelle’s wrists.

“There. Now you are ready for a night on the town. I hope you have a wonderful time!”

“Thank you so much,” Rachelle breathed, hardly able to believe that an hour before, she had been soaked and disheveled.

The woman waved off her thanks.

“It’s nothing. This is what we do!”

Rachelle was going to reply when Darian stepped out from behind another door. Her mouth hung open slightly at the sight of him, before she caught herself and closed it.

Tall, dark, and stunningly handsome, Darian was dressed in an impeccably fitted navy suit. After a moment of staring, she looked back at his face, and realized that he had also been taking her new appearance in.

“Chantilly, you never cease to amaze me. Thank you.”

He embraced the designer, who beamed at the praise.

“It’s what I do. Enjoy your night out,” she said.

“Just send the bill to my apartment.”

“Always do!” she called out as she made her exit back through the room they had come from.

Darian held out his arm to Rachelle, the sight of him burning into her memories as she did her best to capture every element of that moment. Placing her hand gently on his arm, he leaned down, his cheek nearly brushing her own.

“You smell delectable.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Rachelle said.

He led them back out onto the street, totally transformed. Rachelle couldn’t help but grin as a passersby watched them with admiration.

“I think we might be a little more popular now that we’re all dressed up,” Rachelle mused.

“I think you’re underestimating just whom everyone is admiring,” he countered.

Rachelle’s face felt hot, and she held onto his arm a little tighter. When was the last time a man had complimented her in such a way? It was certainly something a woman could get used to.

* * *

Rachelle had opted to keep the black heels she had been wearing earlier, which fortunately matched the dress. They clicked on the stone pavement as the couple made their way to an upscale restaurant. When they stepped inside, the whole waiting area was packed full of well-dressed people.

“I suppose it pays to have a reservation, huh?” Rachelle said, wondering just how Sheikh Darian would get them out of this one.

“It certainly does,” he agreed, heading straight to the host.

A young man in a black suit looked up and grinned.

“Your Highness. It’s a pleasure to see you here again. The usual table?”

“Yes, please. Thank you,” Darian said as the man placed a call on a black phone.

Moments later, a waitress arrived, also dressed entirely in black, and gestured for them to follow her. Darian led the way as they headed toward a back room that had been sectioned off.

“What is this, the VIP lounge?” Rachelle joked, admiring the stunning artwork showcased around the whole establishment.

Darian chuckled.

“Something like that,” he said.

They reached a staircase, and Rachelle was surprised when they were led up the stairs to a closed door. When it opened, they were led onto a private terrace, enveloped with vines.

“I thought you didn’t have much greenery here,” Rachelle said, gazing about them in wonder.

“I said we didn’t have many green parks around here. We still have our own share of oases.”

“So it would seem,” she breathed.

A small, private table was already laid out, and Darian held out Rachelle’s chair for her before taking his own seat across the table. Rachelle felt a gentle buzz from the inside of her purse, and she pulled out her phone ever so briefly.

She had a missed call from Phoebe.

Rachelle hesitated for a fraction of a second before replacing her phone back inside her purse. It was the first time, possibly ever, that she had ignored one of her assistant’s calls. Phoebe never called unless it was important, but in that moment, Rachelle didn’t want to think about work. It was an interesting change, and one she didn’t want to consider as she looked back up at the man sitting across from her.

“Well, you certainly know how to be an exceptional tour guide,” Rachelle said. “You should write the guide book to Zaradi.”

Darian laughed as he took a sip of chilled cucumber water.

“Perhaps I should, though I can’t imagine many people can really afford to see the country as I do, and I’d prefer not to have tourists buzzing about all of my favorite, secret places.”

“That Ferris wheel isn’t going to be easy to hide,” she teased, and he grinned at her.

Good lord, the man was sexy.

“They can have the Ferris wheel, and the delicious treats one can find along the way. These are the places I like to keep very much to myself,” he said, glancing around them.

A waiter arrived, and Darian ordered them a bottle of champagne.

“Are you trying to woo me, showing me how to enjoy the high life?” Rachelle teased with a twinkle in her eye.

Darian feigned confusion.

“The high life? I thought this was simply how people lived?”

“Yeah, right.” She laughed.

The champagne arrived quickly, and two flutes were filled as Rachelle relaxed into the ambiance of the scene, candlelight glowing around them as the sun set, cooling off the scorching heat of a desert day. Darian held up his glass.

“To new connections,” he said. “May our companies find success through unity.”

Rachelle clinked her glass with his, taking a sip.

“Funny, for a moment I forgot all about our work.”

“Me, too. Would you like to talk about it again?”

“Would you?”

“No.”

“What would you like to talk about?” she asked.

He leaned in, his eyes combing her face as he considered his answer. Rachelle felt vulnerable and exposed, even though she was fully clothed. What was he seeing in her, that he was looking so close?

“Tell me about your love life,” he said, finally.

Rachelle laughed, taking a sip from her flute as she tried not to feel uncomfortable. It was certainly not her favorite topic.

“What about it? I’m afraid there’s not much to tell.”

“How can that be so? Are you really so devoted to your work?”

“Yes,” Rachelle said, honestly. “My work has gotten me to where I am today. It matters to me more than anything else in the world.”

“Anything else?”

She hesitated, watching him as she considered her answer. The truth was that the answer she had provided had been true on many levels. Sitting at the private table with Darian, she had to admit to herself in that moment that it was no longer true.

“Perhaps not. I’ll have to let you know on that one.”

Her words were loaded with meaning, and Darian’s lip twitched as he sipped his own champagne.

“Please do,” he said.

As his eyes continued to caress her face, Rachelle felt the alcohol melt any resolve she would have had against being romantic with Darian. If only the night could never end!