"Too bubbly," Katie overheard the sheikh telling his assistant, a nervous girl who clearly feared him. "Not enough qualifications."

Katie caught her breath as another piece of paper fluttered. “Oh, absolutely not,” she heard him growl. It was enough to make her wish the door to the inner sanctum was securely closed instead of open a crack.

Fingers drumming the tops of her knees, Katie stole a glance toward the door leading to the stairwell close to where she sat on the gilded bench in the waiting area. She could leave. She wasn’t obligated to stay here and endure an obviously impossible personality. Sheikh or no sheikh. Connection or no connection. If the other night had been any indication, the sheikh already didn’t like her.

Suddenly, her name filtered through the crack in the door, and Katie cursed. She’d waited too long, and now it was too late to flee.

Not that Katie was the fleeing type.

"Send her in!" Khalid snapped loudly.

Imagining bass notes of doom following that statement, Kadija rose as the assistant exited the office.

"He'll see you now,” the woman said in a wavering voice.

Katie infused warm enthusiasm into her voice. “Wonderful.” She thanked the poor woman, then took a deep breath and turned to the doorway into the lion’s den. Entering the inner office, she found it unusually spartan for one belonging to a sheikh.

He eyed her, and she felt a pulse of energy flash between them, a thudding of her heart. There was a flicker of recognition in his eyes, and she wondered if he was going to throw her out.

“Kadija,” he muttered in a low voice. “You failed to mention your work interest when we met.”

“You didn’t exactly stick around long enough to ask.” Her voice remained pleasant as she took a seat, but she kept her chin up. She wasn’t going to let him bully or intimidate her.

His jaw clenched, but he nodded. “I suppose that’s true. You have work experience in the West."

They were dispensing with the uncomfortable pleasantries. She was relieved that he was acting professionally. “Yes, I've curated several exhibits as a part of my work study in college."

He looked her over without a word and then turned his eyes to the resume in front of him. "And you take direction well?"

"I . . . do."

"Good. There's an assistant position in the gallery."

An assistant position? She frowned. “Does it include curation?"

He sighed and placed her resume on a pile of others. "Thank you for coming. Nadira will show you the way out."

He was so abrupt, she hadn’t even had the chance to show him her portfolio. “Wait, what?”

Khalid glanced over her coldly. “I believe that you just said that you followed instructions. Nadira will show you the way out.”

Unbelievable. Another botched interview, and all because she’d had the audacity to ask him a question? Clenching her fists, she stood. “I apologize for wasting your time, Sheikh. I was under the impression that this was a professionally managed gallery. I guess we’re both disappointed.”

He looked up sharply, and she whirled around and kept her head high as she strode out. Anger simmered inside her. He knew that she was qualified. She knew that he knew, but he wasn’t willing to give her a chance because—what? Because she was a woman?

Katie was getting really tired of getting passed over by men who didn’t believe that she could do more than type at a fucking computer.

“Why the long face, darling?”

Katie looked up guiltily, to meet Sahaar’s kind, concerned look.

She was in the kitchen, digging around for something sweet to make her feel a little better about her failure of a morning. “My interview with the sheikh did not go well. In fact, it barely went at all.”

Her hostess opened a cupboard and pulled out a box of cookies. Apparently she knew Katie all too well. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, he took one look at my impressive resume and offered me a job as an assistant. Apparently, he thinks I’m better suited for getting coffee and running errands than curating, and when I dared to politely question his decision, he kicked me out.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Sahaar said with a sympathetic look, extending the box to Katie. “I have to admit that I don’t know Khalid all that well. I’ve seen him at the weddings, but he rarely smiled or spoke. He seems to be the stoic and quiet type,” the older woman quirked a quizzical eyebrow, “which is a surprise, considering his brothers. Usually the youngest is more playful.”

“With that attitude, I’m not sure anyone would want to play with him,” Katie grumbled as she popped a cookie in her mouth. She rarely had a sweet tooth, but when she got upset, she needed something to make her feel a little better.

Sahaar tried to keep a stern face, but she cracked the smallest of smiles. “Now that I think about it, I don’t recall ever hearing about Khalid and a special lady. Rashid, of course, tended to dominate the headlines.”

“Really?” Eagerly, Katie leaned on the counter and rested on her elbows. “And Mila put up with that?”

“Well now, you’d have to ask Mila for the whole story. I have a feeling she left out some of the more sordid and fun parts, but from the way that man looks at her, I would wager Rashid hasn’t even thought of another woman since he and Mila were thrown together. But before that, Rashid was quite the womanizer. Asad was the quiet and stern type—and Khalid hides from the media. I remember that there was some grumbling a few years ago when he showed more interest in painting than in business, but I think Rashid did something scandalous, and that was the last that I heard of Khalid.”

Katie arched her eyebrows. “Khalid paints? I just assumed he ran the gallery.” She couldn’t imagine the man having enough imagination to be creative.

“He used to. I don’t know if he still does.”

Just then, Katie’s cellphone rang. She took another bite of her cookie and crossed the colorful tiled floor of the kitchen. Digging around in her purse, she pulled the phone out and frowned. She didn’t recognize the number.

“Hello?”

“Katie? This is Fatima, from the lounge.”

“Oh!” Katie leaned against the dining table. “Hi!”

“I was calling to see if you wanted to go to lunch in about an hour? I’m sorry that it’s such short notice, but I unexpectedly have the afternoon off.”

Since Katie didn’t have anything else lined up for the day, she agreed. After hanging up, she popped the rest of her cookie in her mouth. “If you’ll excuse me, Sahaar, I’m off to meet a friend for lunch and forget all about Sheikh Khalid and his ridiculously dry personality for a few hours.” As an afterthought, she snagged another cookie and ignored the way her host mother shook her head and sighed.

She met Fatima at a small sandwich shop in the marketplace. The sun was high in the sky and beat down wrathfully on her skin, but Fatima insisted on eating outside. “You need to thicken up that American skin of yours,” she said with a side glance. “You may have our complexion, but you’re far too delicate.”

Katie fanned herself with the menu and forced a smile. “I appreciate you reaching out to me. I haven’t really met anyone, other than Liyah and Mila. They’re great, though, don’t get me wrong. They’re just a little too love-drunk sometimes.”

“Yes. They are living the fairy tale, aren’t they?” Fatima pressed her lips together in a tight line. “They were my friends as well, but if you ask me, they were never able to fulfill their dreams. Falling for rich men can do that to a woman.”

Narrowing her eyes, Katie cocked her head. Fatima certainly didn’t sound like a friend. “I don’t know about that. Liyah is living her dream, surrounded by books and ancient manuscripts, and Mila has been instrumental in helping Rashid with his business. They really do have it all. Men who love, respect, and support them.”

“Yeah, sure.” Fatima fiddled with the clasp of her purse and then looked up and flashed a bright smile. “You know, those brothers were bachelors for years, and then they got snapped up by two Americans. Lucky them, huh? Two brothers down, and one to go.”

The waitress stopped by, and Fatima and Katie ordered. Sipping at her glass of white wine, Katie saw her opportunity to get a little more information. “What do you know about Khalid?”

Fatima’s lip curled. “Got your eye on him?”

“Hardly.” Katie snorted. “Amira recommended that I might work for him in the gallery. I had a job interview with him this morning.”

Fatima leaned across the table, her eyes alight with curiosity. “Really?”

“Don’t get all excited for me. It did not go well. He managed to offer me a job and take it away in the span of five seconds. He’s cold and rigid. The complete opposite of his brothers. What is with that?”

“Actually, it used to be different. Asad used to be the cold and rigid one. I guess Liyah has made him soft. Khalid has always been a recluse. I always saw him as a spoiled child. Too much into his own pursuits to ever care about anyone but himself. He certainly didn’t seem to care for women.” She rolled her eyes and turned her nose up. “And it’s not just me saying that, either. Everyone thought he was a bit strange. Unlike his brothers, he didn’t want to stand on his own two feet, financially. I guess he hoped that he would live off the family fortune forever.”

Katie wasn’t quite sure she understood what her new friend was trying to say. “Did you try to date him or something?”

“That is not what I said!” Fatima snapped angrily before she took a deep breath and swirled her glass, a strange gleam in her eye. “Khalid is a deadbeat. His father put a stop to that, but I don’t think it changed Khalid’s disposition on life. I’m just warning you so that you can save yourself a lot of trouble by steering clear.”

Katie blew out her breath. “So you think that he resents the gallery?”

“No doubt. That one is a sour apple.” Fatima smiled wickedly. “I feel sorry for any woman who falls for him. He’d take an independent woman like you or me and strip us to nothing.” Her gaze growing uncomfortably intense, she repeated, “If I were you, I’d steer clear of him.”

“You’re probably right.” Katie immediately changed the subject, but something didn’t sit right with her about the things that Fatima was saying. Khalid didn’t seem like a man who gave a damn about family money, and he didn’t seem resentful about the gallery—but Fatima did know the family better than Katie did. Maybe Katie was just bad at judging people.

Not that it mattered. It wasn’t like Khalid was going to hire her, anyway.