Imaad paced the lobby of the hotel. He’d arrived twenty minutes early, but only because he wanted some alone time to brief her on the upcoming meeting. His father was no picnic, and the two of them could easily be at each other’s throats within minutes.

But despite sending up a message to her room, Annabelle still hadn’t shown. He sighed, heading for the small lounge, keeping an eye on the elevators while he ordered tea. Worry made sickening swirls in his body, threatening to topple him if he entertained it long enough. Annulling the marriage had never even occurred to him as a possibility until she’d mentioned it the night before. All they had to do was play along until the right time.

He tapped his finger on the black surface of the counter while he waited for his tea, gaze glued to the elevators. Come down, Annabelle. Hurry.

The doors whooshed open and a few people streamed out. No Annabelle. He received his tea and chose a seat in plain view of the elevators. He blew on the steaming liquid as he watched for another car to open.

The door slid open. He raised the mug to his lips, feeling out a sip as he surveyed the guests. There, toward the back—the shockingly blonde beauty he’d been waiting for. Dressed in high-waisted black pants that fit her so well they might as well be painted on. A cream blouse hung slightly looser, but the tempting mounds of her breasts could be seen despite the fit. He sipped too hard at his tea and burned himself, and he set the mug down, swearing.

A moment later Annabelle arrived, her lips painted ruby, her face the epitome of put-together businesswoman on her way to kick ass. She clasped her hands together, smiling down at him.

“May I join?” She grinned while she eased into the seat, something playful in her gaze that had been entirely missing the day before. “Hubby.”

He laughed, adjusting his mug on the small saucer, cock twitching in his pants. She could call him whatever she wanted if it meant he could use their fake engagement to put a hand anywhere on her body. “Please. Wifey.”

Her gaze darkened, the familiar recoil from the day before rearing up. “I need to practice this a little bit.”

“Exactly why I came to find you early.” He glanced behind them, searching out one of the few waiters. He called out to him in Farsi, indicating that Annabelle would place an order. He arrived a moment later with a menu. “We need to establish some rules.”

“Great. More men telling me how to live my life.” She thumbed through the menu, a wry look on her face.

“I have no interest in ruling your life. My only interest is making sure that my life isn’t ruled as well.”

Her mouth thinned to a line. “Fair enough. Let’s hear it.”

“My father is a traditionalist. So you may hear some…remarks from him. Remarks you may not like.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Like what?”

“Just keep in mind that he may speak to you more as a daughter-in-law and less of a business associate.” Anxiety licked through him. He counted a million ways this pending meeting could end poorly. Especially now that he had a taste of Annabelle’s hotheadedness. “Do your best to stick to the business portion. We just need the merger. Remember that.”

“Right.” She closed the menu, smiling up at a waiter who came to take her order. She asked for a coffee and toast then turned to Imaad. “So what about us? How are we supposed to act?”

Imaad took another sip at his tea, trying to steady his mind. He knew how he wanted to act with her, but that would fall more on the side of a fling than a business marriage. “Normally. He’ll not expect us to be terribly intimate. Even if we were truly in love, public displays of affection are frowned upon here.”

“Good. So I don’t have to hold your hand or call you Snookums.”

Imaad laughed. “Definitely not.”

The two shared a look, one that made a tendril of hope uncurl within him. If she was going to be spending a lot of time in Minarak at his side, it helped that her sharp wit made something buzz deep inside him. Also didn’t hurt that she was so damn easy to look at.

Once they finished breakfast, Imaad called for the car. Her heels clicking softly as they walked through the hotel lobby to the main doors. Her flowery perfume reached him, and his head spun for a moment. If you were anyone else…

In the back of his mind, he knew all the things he wanted to do to her. Every time he looked at her, he found something new fascinating him. The long curl of her eyelashes. The tiny mole on the upper left side of her lip. The downy blonde hairs on her cheeks. The precise arcs of her eyeliner. And if he could see under those tailored clothes—get down to the real meat of the matter—he was sure he’d find plenty more delights to blow his mind.

Outside the hotel, the busy Minarak morning blared and honked around them. He held open the back door of the sedan, waiting as she got in, his gaze sliding over the delicious curve of her hip. Once he was seated beside her and the car was in motion, he allowed himself another glance.

Her heart-shaped face was turned toward the window, gaze transfixed on the cars passing by.

“Is this your first time in Parsabad?”

She nodded, not looking over at him. “But I’ve been to the Middle East before.”

The ride to the office was quick, and Imaad didn’t try to say much. He liked the fragrant cloud of wonder that hung between them, as Annabelle took in a new city and they sat in relative ease…waiting for the storm to come.

Annabelle followed him into the corporate office building, where they headed for the top floor quickly. In the elevator, Annabelle cast him a worried look.

“Anything else I should know before I go in?”

Imaad shook his head, fingers twitching as he fought the urge to squeeze her shoulder. He knew her enough to know that wouldn’t go over well at all. “Just keep the merger in mind. I’ve never done this before either.”

They shared a long look, one that seared him to his spot. When the doors opened, they lingered a moment, gazing at each other. Annabelle ripped her eyes away, and Imaad came to, clearing his throat. He led the way out of the elevator and toward his father’s office. He knocked once before pushing the door open.

Inside, his father had a huge grin and two drinks poured, just like last time.

“Come in, come in!” He gestured them in, pointing to the two open seats. Imaad allowed Annabelle to sit first, then took the empty seat. His father settled into his large leather chair behind the desk, smiling so widely his teeth showed.

“Mr. Almasi. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She offered her hand, and he took it, shaking it fervently.

“Annabelle. My future daughter.” Imaad’s father let out a long sigh, gazing at Annabelle as if she were a ghost. “You’re much more beautiful than your father let on. I think my Imaad must be pleased.”

Annabelle stiffened beside him. An awkward silence filled the room.

“Drinks, Father?” Imaad pointed at the tumblers when the silence had grown deafening.

“Yes. To celebrate!” His father picked up one, offering the second to Imaad. His voice shriveled in his throat. Of course his father wouldn’t offer a woman whiskey. He could feel Annabelle’s eyes burning on his hand holding the tumbler.

His father clinked glasses with him and Imaad sent an apologetic look her way, trying to send an explanation via mind waves, if such a thing were possible. This is tradition. This is my father. Don’t be offended.

“I’m very pleased to be here to complete the merging of our two companies.” Annabelle’s voice sounded forced. She must be trying very hard to control that sharp tongue of hers.

“Yes, yes.” His father waved his hand in the air, as though dismissing it. “But the real matter is the marriage! This has been too long in the making. You two will be the perfect couple.”

Annabelle glanced over at him. Imaad sent her a patient look. Please don’t snap. Please don’t snap.

“And once this wonderful marriage is complete,” Annabelle said, “I’m very much looking forward to assuming my new executive role within the company.”

His father laughed so hard that he choked. He set the tumbler down, palm pressed to his chest as he regained his breath. “Oh, no, miss. You won’t be doing that. How could you? You won’t have time, with the children!”

Annabelle’s stricken look set warning bells ringing in his head. Panic sliced through him, and he leaned forward, hoping to defuse this situation before it became all-out war. “Father. We can’t get ahead of ourselves. I have some important things to show our guest, so we should be on our way now. Annabelle?” He stood, staring down at Annabelle, urging her to follow him.

Her gaze was so hard on his father that he thought a laser beam might materialize. “Excellent.” She stood stiffly, forcing the briefest of smiles. “Pleasure, sir.”

They hurried out of the office. Once the door swung shut behind them, Annabelle turned as if she were going to pounce.

“What the fuck was that?” Her voice was low, rimmed with sharp edges.

Imaad sighed, at a loss. It had been worse than he’d expected. By a long shot. “I told you, he’s a traditionalist. I can’t—”

“You didn’t even stand up for me. You didn’t say a damn thing.” She jabbed her finger in the air as she spoke. She probably wished it were a knife blade instead of her finger. “I am a corporate liaison here, not a goddamn baby factory.” She stomped away.

“I know this.” He raced in front of her to the elevators and faced her, searching out her gaze. “Trust me, I know. We’re not having kids. You don’t even have to look at me if you don’t want.” He held up his hands, surrendering. “This is a process, and it won’t be easy.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, cinching the creamy fabric over her breasts.

“This was the meet and greet. It’s the only thing on the agenda until the next meeting with the board in two days.” He paused, weighing the idea that had been percolating inside him since he woke up that morning. “Why don’t we get out of town for now, do some sightseeing, and work on the game plan? Now that we know what he expects, we can figure out how to work with it.”

Annabelle sighed, gaze fastened to the ground. She pouted a little before she said, “Yeah. I think that’s probably a good idea. As long as wherever you take me is better than the inside of that office.”

Imaad pushed the down button, ideas springing to life. “Oh, yeah. Definitely better than that.”