CHAPTER THREE
Ahmed walked up toward her, continuing to smile. He looked so confident, so sure of himself. And, that confidence merely served to highlight the elegance of his appearance, the sheer masculine presence. She felt nerves warm her middle.
There was that effect again, she told herself. That instant reaction she'd noticed in the garden. She shifted on her heels, curling her fingers tightly around her clutch, and glanced at the other limo.
The driver of her own limo hesitated when he noticed the sheikh walking toward Gemma. Then the driver's eyes widened. It was clear from his expression that he recognized Sheikh Ahmed, and did not know what he should do. He opted to stand and watch while Ahmed advanced toward Gemma.
"What are you doing?" she demanded.
"What does it look like? I'm waiting for you," he said.
She folded her arms and furrowed her brows. "Do you have any idea what you did in there?"
He halted a few steps in front of her and pretended to look puzzled. "You mean, when I was being polite to Rashid?"
"You call that polite?"
"He and I have an understanding," Ahmed said casually. "He knows what to expect from me. We enjoy our little battles."
Gemma shook her head. "I don't think Rashid enjoyed it very much. Especially what you did at the end."
Ahmed glanced down at her hands. "I couldn't help myself."
"Obviously," she snapped. "Anyway, if you don't mind, my driver is waiting for me."
Ahmed looked over at the driver who still hadn't moved an inch. Ahmed smiled. "Looks like your driver isn't sure if he wants to go anywhere."
Gemma looked across and saw that Ahmed was right. The driver looked like a deer caught in headlights.
Ahmed came closer to Gemma. "Let me have a word with him," he muttered.
"Why?"
Ahmed ignored her and wandered slowly over to the driver and spoke to him in the Qazhar language. The effect was instantaneous. The driver withdrew from Ahmed, not even glancing in Gemma's direction.
Ahmed came back to Gemma. "I've arranged to have you taken home in my limo."
Gemma scowled at Ahmed. "Really," she said in a flat voice. "And who gave you the right to do that?"
"Why you, of course," he replied.
For a moment she was lost for words. Then she recovered herself and glared at him. "When?"
"When I kissed your hand," he murmured.
Gemma felt the color drain from her face. "What are you talking about?"
He leaned closer and she caught the heavy aroma of his scent. It triggered a faint stirring within her that she desperately wanted to ignore. "I couldn't help noticing your reaction," he said quietly.
"I didn't react at all," she insisted. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"But I noticed. And I think Rashid did too."
Gemma sighed heavily. "Look, this is ridiculous. I'm just going to take the limo that was arranged for me, if you don't mind."
Gemma looked across and saw the limo start to move off into the empty lane. Her heart sank and she cried out, pointing toward the vehicle, as if to claw it back.
Ahmed turned and grinned. "Looks like you have no other option. Unless you want to go back inside and ask Rashid for help," he said.
She dropped her hands heavily by her side and glared at him. "I don't think so," Gemma said.
So that was it, then, she thought. There was his limo, and the door was wide open waiting for her to step inside. Why was it that Sheikh Ahmed always seemed to be at least one step ahead of her?
She was about to ask him that exact question when she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. She turned and saw a young couple standing behind her. The girl and her male partner couldn't have been older than their late teens. The girl had a broad grin on her face. She looked really excited.
"Miss Ellon, can I trouble you for a selfie?" the girl asked breathlessly.
Gemma smiled at her. "Of course. No problem," she replied. Gemma glanced at Ahmed, who smiled and moved swiftly a few steps away.
The girl and the young man moved to either side of Gemma. Then the girl stretched out her hand, holding her camera out. There was a flash and the girl let out an excited squeal.
Another moment with one of her fans, Gemma reflected. She hadn't realized quite how well known she would be here in Qazhar.
The couple thanked her and walked away, with the girl staring at the screen of her phone and talking excitedly with the young man, who Gemma presumed was her boyfriend.
Ahmed walked back to Gemma. "Your fans," he observed.
Gemma nodded. "It's nice," she admitted. "I always try to be friendly when people ask me for a photo or an autograph."
"You're quite the celebrity here, already," he observed.
"I hardly think so," she responded. "I only just got here."
"But online is everywhere," he said. "Isn't that true."
"I guess so," she replied.
The moment with the couple had shifted her mood slightly. Gone was the irritation with Ahmed, to be replaced by a simple, desperate need to get away from the hotel. Suddenly the limo's open door looked very inviting.
Ahmed seemed to notice the way she was looking at the limo. "Well?"
"Okay," she said. "Let's go."
Gemma almost raced over to the limo, but she wasn't quick enough to beat Ahmed, who reached the limo before her and stood holding the door for her.
As she bent down to enter the limo she was sure she saw a flash of light out of the corner of her vision. But, then she was inside the limo and settling back on the plush leather seat, and Ahmed was inside, closing the door behind him and taking his place next to her.
Then the limo was moving away and Gemma felt a surprisingly strong sense of relief at leaving everything behind. She hadn't realized just how intense the whole evening had been. Sure, she was used to the attention.
But, lately she had begun to find some of it a little wearying, a little repetitive. And tonight had been no exception, in spite of the glamorous location here in a part of the world about which she knew so little.
They were quiet for a while as the limo moved out onto the highway which cut through the center of the city.
"You know where I live?" she asked, surprised.
"The other driver gave us the directions," he explained. "Nice place Rashid has given you to stay," he added. "One of the most exclusive apartment blocks in town."
"Only the best, I guess," she said teasingly.
He shook his head. "For you, I think it's just about right," he said. "Rashid's special guest," he added with a wry smile.
"You and him really don't get along, do you?" she observed.
"We're really the best of friends," he joked, his voice filled with sarcasm.
She lifted a brow. "What caused the rivalry?"
He sighed. "It's a long story. We don't have the time to go into all the details. Maybe we can discuss it some other time or place?" he asked.
She realized he was edging toward asking her for some kind of date, but she knew she couldn't let that happen. Not after what she'd seen tonight. She merely smiled at him and shook her head as if she couldn't quite believe his brazenness.
It was obvious he wasn't a man to be easily thwarted when it came to getting what he wanted. He was charming, that was for sure. But, he was also determined.
She could understand that maybe what Rashid had said about Ahmed might have a grain of truth. Maybe he was expert at getting what he wanted from women. Even if that was the case, Gemma was determined she wouldn't be next on his list.
She turned away from him.It was a short drive to her apartment block, just a few minutes. But she wondered if it would seem like a very long journey indeed.
There was a long pause and neither of them spoke. She gazed out the window at the passing traffic and the sights of the city. Then she turned to him. "Why are you doing all this?"
"Doing what?"
She frowned. "You know what I mean."
"I would have thought it would have been obvious," he replied.
"You see, that's the thing. It isn't."
Ahmed shrugged. "I'm not someone who gives up easily. If I want something I usually don't stop until I get it."
"Rashid said the same thing about you," she said.
He shrugged. "Nice to know you were all talking about me when I wasn't there to defend myself," he said with a grin.
"Rashid told me you have a reputation," she said.
"In business?" he asked.
She shook her head. "No. With women," she said bluntly.
That seemed to take him aback for a moment and she saw him settle against the leather seat. His features were suddenly thoughtful. She could see his eyes narrowing slightly as he considered how to reply to that remark.
"Isn't it the same thing?" he asked.
She wasn't sure he was being serious. She turned her body to face him directly. "You don't mean that, do you?"
He grinned. "Everything in life is negotiation. In one form or another. Don't you agree?" he asked peering at her.
She frowned. "I couldn't possibly say," was the best she could come up with.
"I mean, look at you," he continued. "You obviously know how to negotiate when it comes to your own business. It's all about creating value. For the people who follow you. And, I could see the pleasure on the face of that young girl, back there. Getting her photo with you was obviously important to her. You could see the excitement."
"But, I'm just someone she sees online. She doesn't know who I really am," Gemma said defensively.
He shifted toward her. "And who are you, Miss Ellon?" he breathed slowly. "Really."
That stopped her right in her tracks. The way he'd spoken those words made something shift again inside her. The same feeling she'd felt in the garden was back again, just as surprising and just as intense as before.
She felt her mouth open slightly. His gaze drifted down toward her lips. There was a hungry look in that gaze. Her heart started racing more quickly. Her breath halted for a moment in her chest.
Then she recovered her composure, keenly aware of just how close he was to her. Just how dominating his presence was with him just inches away from her.
She couldn't believe she'd agreed to come inside this limo with him. Suddenly she was glad it was a mere few minutes to her apartment, because the way he was looking at her, right now, if the journey had been any further, she wasn't sure she would have been able to control the sudden temptation she was feeling.
What was it about this man? He seemed to possess the ability to find just the right words, just the right look that would affect her in an instant. Was he like this with all his women? Did he intend for her to be just another in his long line of victories? If that was what he was thinking, then he really didn't know who she was.
Gemma turned away from him. Anything to avoid looking into those eyes, she told herself. That gaze had made something warm, something that made her nervous, take up space in her middle.
Maybe she'd had too much champagne, although she knew she'd been careful not to drink too much, needing to make a good impression on her first big night here in Qazhar.
"I'm sorry," she heard him say softly.
She turned back to him. "Why?"
He drew in a deep breath and looked serious for a moment, all his previous levity gone. "I've embarrassed you."
She shook her head. "No, you haven't."
He nodded. "I've made you feel uncomfortable. I can see that. I have no right to pry into your life. After all, we've only just met." He gazed at her. His dark eyes were deep pools that contained absolute sincerity. "We don't really know each other," he said, his voice deep. And then he added: "Yet."
That additional word made her pulse quicken slightly.
She shrugged. "I'm sure we'll run into one another while I'm here," she said nonchalantly. "This isn't a big town. And, after what I saw tonight, everyone seems to know one another."
"You'd be surprised. Many of the prominent families are connected by business. And by marriage. In fact, in recent years we've had quite a few American women marry sheikhs." He smiled. "I know most of them. They all seem quite happy here."
"How nice for them," she replied in a flat voice. She tried to sound disinterested, but there was a part of her which was immediately curious.
Who were these women who had given up their life back home and come here to start over? Maybe she'd get a chance to meet some of them while she was here.
But then another thought drifted into her mind.
What was he suggesting? That she had come here to find a husband? Maybe to marry herself off to some wealthy, powerful sheikh. Like himself? Was that what he really thought of her?
He obviously didn't know the slightest thing about her, no matter how much of her public life was posted online. And there was a lot, she reminded herself.
Probably too much. The whole thing about social media was that you willingly agreed to put yourself in the spotlight, for all to see. Two years ago, when she'd started all this, that had seemed like an innocent idea. Something she could handle.
But, in recent months she'd been having her doubts about the whole thing. There had been some incidents she'd much rather not think about. Just because you were online, some people believed they had a right to intrude on your life in the most intimate manner.
Particularly men.
Part of the reason she'd come to Qazhar had been the promise of a fresh start, perhaps even a chance to expand her follower base into a new territory, with new people who had different kind of values and needs.
She certainly wasn't here to find a husband. How dare he even suggest such a thing!
Up ahead, she saw the apartment block where she was staying. "We're here," she announced, relieved.
The limo drew up in front of the building and the driver got out and opened the door. As she waited for the door to open, Gemma busied herself, fussing with her dress and straightening herself in the seat. All the while she did this, Ahmed watched her, apparently enjoying the sight of her impatience to get out of the limo.
Gemma turned to him. "Well, thank you for the ride. And the chat," she said and smiled.
She tried to make it sound as if this latest encounter with the sheikh had been of no consequence. Gemma knew that wasn't true, but she wasn't going to hand him another victory this evening.
"It was my pleasure," Ahmed replied.
The door opened and she stepped out. Ahmed followed and they faced each other. She glanced up at the tall apartment block. There was an awkward silence and then she held out a hand, intent on shaking his hand politely. Then, she realized she should have known better.
Ahmed took her hand, bent his head down and lifted her hand swiftly to his mouth. She didn't have a chance to stop him before his lips were on the back of her hand. This time his warm mouth lingered on her skin. She felt the same racing sensation up her arm, only this time it was more intense than earlier.
In contrast to previously, back at the hotel, Ahmed lifted his gaze and looked straight at her as he kissed the back of her hand. There was something about that look, something that hinted at possession, as if he was claiming some small part of her. And he knew he was doing so. There was a glint of appreciation in his eyes.
Ahmed released her hand and she drew it instinctively up to her chest. Gemma saw that he'd noticed her reaction, but he showed no response of his own. Perhaps he'd realized he'd overstepped the mark.
Again. For the second time that evening.
He glanced up at the building and she thought he was going to offer to accompany her into the apartment block. Even try and invite himself up to her apartment.
She knew that wasn't going to happen, and she was relieved when he finally said: "Goodnight, Gemma. It has been a most enjoyable evening."
She smiled. "Thank you, sheikh Ahmed," she replied.
"Please. Just call me Ahmed," he said.
She nodded. "Of course. Ahmed."
Then she turned away from him and started to make her way toward the entrance to the apartment block.
Although she didn't look back, she was certain that if she did, she would see him watching her closely. And perhaps there might be a hint of regret on his features that he wasn't accompanying her up to her apartment.
But a line had been drawn, she told herself as she pushed through the revolving doors and nodded to the concierge who sat behind the desk.
Then she was in the lift, leaning back against the mirrored walls and wondering just how she had managed to make it through this night in one piece.
Gemma arrived at her floor and made her way into the apartment. It was luxurious. There was no disputing that fact. Rashid had spared no expense in putting her up in this place. It had everything she needed.
But, right now, what she really needed was a shower to cool down after this evening's encounters. She'd make a post on her social media profiles, giving her followers some, not all, of the details of the evening. After that, she intended to flop down into the huge bed, pull up the covers and fall asleep as fast as she could.
And try not to think of Sheikh Ahmed and his tempting body.