Omar couldn’t believe his eyes.

In front of him, the most beautiful woman he’d laid eyes on since his wife’s passing two years ago floundered in the face of a type of passive rudeness Omar had never witnessed in his life.

“Here. You take my seat.” He gestured for the brunette beauty to take his seat, staring pointedly at the newcomer. Omar had been pegged to meet the CTO of Thomas Petrochemicals, the American division of Almasi-Thomas, so why were two people here? He had barely had time to register the name of the visiting American, much less any supporting details. Like the fact that this woman looks like someone I need to take home immediately.

The woman slipped into his seat gratefully, and Omar strode to the hostess stand, explaining the situation in efficient Farsi. He waited by the table as a server brought a chair and arranged the additional place setting.

Once he was settled and glancing between the two recent arrivals, he said, “Okay. Now explain: which of you is Kelly?”

“I am.” The balding man with skin the color of pale oatmeal held out his hand. “My name is Kelly Gunther. CTO for Thomas Petrochemicals. I assume you’re from the Almasi tribe.”

Omar lifted a brow. The woman next to him sighed.

“Correct. And you are…?” He turned to the brunette, loving the way her deep brown eyes went wide.

“I’m Marian Frank.” She smoothed the edges of her napkin. “Here to assist Kelly with this deal.”

“Great.” Omar flashed a wide grin, determined to bring this meeting back to lighthearted territory. His primary function was to help navigate this deal to a successful conclusion. Launched by the American side of their newly merged companies initially, the Minarak office would play a pivotal role in securing the deal; Almasi was a crucial Middle Eastern liaison with the notoriously reluctant-to-negotiate oil technology company, National Oil.

Kelly turned to Marian, his eyebrows forming a hard line. “Go grab me a whiskey, would you?”

Her eyes narrowed to slits. “Do you really think—”

“Allow me.” Alarm bells went off in Omar’s head—who did this guy think he was?—but he played it cool, signaling for a waitress. “I’ll ask the server, not my guest,” he added with a pointed look to Kelly.

The flush in Marian’s cheek was unbearably cute, though he wished it came from better circumstances. Tension filled the air, and Omar cleared his throat when their waitress finally arrived.

“Please bring us a round of waters, a whiskey for him.” He pointed at Kelly. “And anything else they might want.”

“I’ll take any martini you have,” Marian said, sending the waitress a flat look. “Just make it strong.”

Omar squashed a grin. How he wished this meet-up could be only the two of them. “Now, let’s get back to business.”

The three of them—really mostly he and Kelly—chatted about the details of their upcoming itinerary. Tomorrow morning, they’d meet the CEO of the reclusive oil tech company. The three of them would sit in a meeting with the National Oil executives to review their respective proposals. Hopefully all would go well, and a deal could be brokered. They might be looking at a signing by the end of the third day.

“I don’t know how they could turn us down,” Kelly muttered over his whiskey. “Only a goddamn idiot would reject this deal.”

Marian’s brows lifted—the silent response system he’d been cataloguing all evening. She seemed familiar to him in a way he could scarcely articulate. She looked nothing like his late wife, Anahita, yet Marian possessed a warmth that reminded him only of Anahita.

Omar tried not to think too much of his late wife. Her passing, after only six short months of an arranged marriage, had been too big of a blow. The cancer had moved swiftly, too swiftly for even the best doctors to intervene. And their marriage was now a cracked shell of a memory. Too quick to even document much beyond the wedding. Snippets of their life together haunted him. But the worst part was not knowing—what would have become of him and Anahita? What children had they missed out on? The love they found together in so short a time was mostly born of grief and rapid bonding…turning a stranger into an intimate lover in mere months.

His heart squeezed in his chest, and he took a sip of his water. Why did Marian bring up these thoughts? He realized Kelly had been speaking, and he had no idea what he’d said.

“I’m sorry?” Omar adjusted his watch, feigning interest.

“I said I can’t expect too much from a company whose primary language is Arabic,” Kelly said more slowly, enunciating his words as if Omar might have suddenly gone deaf.

“You can’t say that,” Marian hissed.

“Why the hell not?” Kelly swung to look at her.

“First of all, they speak Farsi. Second, it’s completely wrong. And finally, we are guests here,” she said, her voice low and threatening, like a mother scolding a child in public. “You need to act like it.”

“The last person I need to take direction from is you,” he spat, downing his whiskey. He raised his hand, waving it in the air. “Waitress!”

Omar pinched the bridge of his nose. Tomorrow would be very interesting. Perhaps a smidge entertaining, if this buffoonery was any indicator. Remember, treat him with respect. Even if he’s deplorable.

“We expect good things of this meeting,” Omar said, measuring his words. “This company has shown interest in the idea of partnering with Almasi-Thomas, but the numbers conversation remains, of course.” He paused, tapping his fingers against the tabletop. “National Oil is very hesitant to meet with almost anyone. The fact that they have invited us to their headquarters is very promising.”

“Damn well better be,” Kelly muttered, craning his neck to find the waitress. “Brought me all the way out to this godforsaken place.”

Marian inhaled sharply. “Wow.”

Omar felt the urge to interject, but Marian could handle it—he already sensed it. Yet another way she and Anahita were nothing alike. Anahita had been timid and quiet, almost to the point of irritating him. Marian’s boldness was a breath of fresh air.

You need to stop comparing her to your dead wife.

He blinked, realizing he’d drifted off again, missing their spat entirely. Marian glared at Kelly, who was ordering another whiskey.

“I am so sorry for his…belligerence,” Marian said, snagging Omar’s gaze with wide, imploring eyes, exactly the color of honeyed chocolate.

“I am not being belligerent,” Kelly huffed. “You’re too goddamn sensitive. Exactly why I told Bob I didn’t need him sending a woman with me on this trip.”

Omar watched Kelly a moment, unsure if he’d heard him correctly. Marian’s jaw dropped, and she shook her head.

“There’s no need for that—” Omar began.

“You need a woman more than you can even possibly understand,” Marian spat. “You are a selfish brute and completely unaware of how big of an asshole you are.” She stood up from her seat, the chair nearly toppling behind her. She looked at Omar with fiery eyes, and he shrank back a bit.

“I think I’ll have dinner in my room,” she said, offering a hand to Omar. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

Omar took her hand and glanced between Marian and Kelly. It felt as if an explosive might detonate if they remained in the same room. Kelly snorted in derision, and Marian stomped off without another word, leaving her half-drunk martini behind.

Omar shot to his feet and took off after her. The professional side of him advised him to let her go, but something else wanted her to stay.

“Marian, wait.” He jogged across the brilliant tiles of the foyer as she stormed to the elevators. She didn’t seem to hear him, so he moved faster, reaching for her shoulder.

She gasped and turned to him. “What?”

“You shouldn’t have to leave.”

Her plump lips turned into a frightening thin line. “I know. But my job here is to help broker this deal. I’ll be there tomorrow, but I won’t spend another second of my time around that pompous pig.”

Marian brushed her curly hair behind her ear, revealing a pair of dangling earrings. Omar’s gaze fastened onto them, admiring the sheen of blue and silver. Butterflies. His belly twisted violently. Anahita had a flight of blue and silver butterflies tattooed across her left shoulder.

His mouth parted, but he didn’t have words.

“Just go back there and wine and dine the asshole,” she said finally. “It’s fine.”

She turned to leave but he reached for her arm, stilling her again.

“What?” she asked again. She looked at the end of her rope, and he couldn’t blame her.

“I, uh…” He cleared his throat, forcing his gaze off her earrings. “I just wanted to say that I’d much rather be dining with you.”

Marian grinned, that same rosy flush appearing in her cheek. “Yeah, well…It would be nice, wouldn’t it?” A moment of awkward silence passed, and then she started again. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

Omar let her go this time, let himself be captivated by her petite, curvy figure as he watched her walk toward the elevators.

She was the only one he wanted to have dinner with tonight. And for reasons that had nothing to do with business.