CHAPTER ONE
Sheikh Ahmed Al Kharif gazed across the high-ceilinged reception room, over the heads of the many elegantly dressed guests, and up at the platform where the woman he wanted more than anyone else presently stood.
Gemma Ellon.
He wanted her, and right now, another man possessed her, had taken control of her. But that would merely be temporary, if Ahmed had his way.
And he would.
Before the night was over.
From his side, he heard a voice above the general hubbub of the party. "What's on your mind, brother?" Taliq asked.
Ahmed turned to Taliq. His younger brother had probably seen the way Ahmed had gazed up at the astonishingly beautiful woman standing up there on the platform.
"What do you think?" Ahmed replied.
Taliq followed Ahmed's gaze. "Her?"
Ahmed nodded.
"You still haven't gotten over Rashid winning the contract, have you?"
Ahmed lifted a skeptical brow. "Why would I ever get over that?" He glanced at the woman standing up there, watching her smiling at the cameras as they snapped pictures of her. She'd just been introduced to the guests by Rashid Al Riaz. Ahmed's rival in the media business they were both involved in.
No, that wasn't quite accurate. The Qazhar media business they constantly fought each other over for control. For dominance.
And, right now, the evidence of Tariq's latest victory over Ahmed was standing right up there on the stage.
Gemma Ellon was a major coup for Rashid, and Ahmed felt the sense of defeat in his bones. But, if Ahmed had anything to do with it, Tariq's victory would be temporary.
Very temporary.
"She should have been working with your company, you know that don't you," Taliq said.
Ahmed shook his head and sighed. "I know that, Taliq. No need to rub it in. I messed up."
"She is beautiful, though, isn't she?" Taliq observed.
At thirty years of age, Ahmed was three years older than Taliq, but sometimes it felt like so much more. Taliq's observation was simple, but very true. "Beyond beautiful," Ahmed muttered. "Stunning."
Ahmed saw Taliq look at him with curiosity after he'd uttered those words.
But, it was true. Gemma Ellon was simply incredible looking, Ahmed told himself as he took a sip of champagne.
Gemma was tall, blonde and full-figured in every possible, delightful way imaginable. She was dressed in stunning, figure-hugging white dress which was modern, but also cut to hint at traditional Qazhar dress. Although it was designed to look modest, on her, with the fullness of her body, it exuded sensuality.
Simply gazing upon her, Ahmed felt a primal flicker of male desire. It was unprofessional, he knew, but also unavoidable. No man would fail to be affected by her. She was everything he'd ever imagined a woman to be.
But she was more than just that.
She was the perfect example of a stunningly attractive, famous American. Not only that. She was a social media star, with millions of followers who hung on her every word, who gazed with wonder and jealousy upon Gemma's celebrity lifestyle.
The woman had it all, Ahmed reflected. Looks, fame and talent. And she was currently unattached. Something she did not stop telling all her followers. She was the personification of the single, unattached girl, independent, someone who needed no man to give her life meaning. Someone who lived her life on her own terms.
At least that was how she portrayed herself. Ahmed wondered if, behind the very beautiful mask, that was indeed the truth .
But, her fame was what had brought her to Qazhar. And the reputation she'd built for herself during the past couple of years. The perfect role model for the young, independent woman.
And that was why Rashid had brought her to Qazhar. To take for himself a piece of Gemma's fame, her celebrity and use it for his own ends, for his company's benefit.
That simple thought made Ahmed's jaw tighten in barely suppressed frustration. The thought that his bitter rival would benefit from using Gemma Ellon as a celebrity endorsement for his own media company galled Ahmed to the core.
Up there, on the platform, there was a flurry of activity, and the photographers were ushered away and Gemma was led down off the platform by Rashid, who looked far too pleased with himself for Ahmed's liking.
Ahmed knew that Rashid had invited him to this reception so that he could rub Ahmed's nose in a triumphant display of his prized possession. One of the largest social media stars was his.
Ahmed had thought about refusing the invitation, but Taliq had forced him to see sense, and accept. Taliq had pointed out that if Ahmed hadn't come to this extravagant reception in one of the most exclusive hotels in Qazhar, then Rashid would have wasted no time in letting everyone he knew that Ahmed had admitted defeat.
And that had been what had made Ahmed's mind up for him. He would never grant Rashid any kind of victory over himself. It was painful enough that the American woman was about to begin working for Rashid.
But, maybe it wasn't too late to do something to change that, Ahmed told himself.
For a while, he and Taliq mingled with the guests, shaking hands, renewing acquaintances, and chatting idly. Every mention of Rashid's good fortune cut Ahmed to the core, but he made sure no-one could guess the extent of his frustration.
As he made his way through the guests, Ahmed kept his attention fixed on Gemma Ellon. The more he saw of her, the more he had to admit that she was a class act. She had an easy way with people, obviously capable of turning on the charm at an moment's notice.
At no point did he get even close to her, such was the demand for her attention by the guests who surrounded her. All through the evening, Rashid kept close to his most valuable asset.
Once or twice, Rashid smiled across at Ahmed, nodding slowly, but he didn't make the effort to come and talk with Ahmed. Perhaps Rashid didn't want to risk an unpleasant scene. One that would spoil the evening.
After a while, Ahmed had almost given up hope that he could get close to Miss Ellon, even just for the chance of a brief introduction. He and Taliq were discussing the prospect of leaving the party early, when Ahmed finally got his chance.
As he glanced across at Miss Ellon from his vantage point near the platform, Ahmed saw that she began to look distracted. Her smile became less warm and her pretty features assumed an almost impatient expression, as if she had something else on her mind. Or as if the entire evening had suddenly gotten the better of her.
Ahmed saw her smile broadly and politely make her excuses. She drifted away from the group of people she was talking with, closely followed by Rashid. Ahmed saw her turn to Rashid and say something, which drew a response from Rashid. She shook her head and seemed to say something which made Rashid freeze in his tracks and nod reluctantly.
Then she walked away from Rashid, heading toward the exit, probably in the direction of the powder rooms.
Ahmed moved through the crowd, keeping an eye on her. From his angle he saw her striding down the corridor outside the reception hall of the hotel, heading, as he suspected in the direction of the facilities.
But, instead of continuing, he saw her turn suddenly, her face pale, her eyes wide. She seemed satisfied that no-one was following behind her, and then she completely changed direction, this time heading toward where Ahmed knew was an access to the rear of the hotel where there was a large garden area.
Ahmed frowned. Why had she decided to escape the reception, especially since it was entirely for her benefit? And why had she pretended to be merely taking a brief break, when he had seen her real intention?
Ahmed moved quickly, glancing across at Rashid, reassuring himself that he wasn't aware of what Gemma had just done. Rashid was busy talking with guests.
Ahmed headed out through the open doors and strode along the hotel corridor. Eventually he reached the rear of the hotel. There was a deserted restaurant area at the far end of which he saw wide open double doors. He guessed that was where she had gone and headed there at a pace.
Emerging through the open doors, he stepped out onto a terrace. The evening was cool, the sky filled with stars. The expansive garden stretched out before him. The air smelled sweet with the aroma of flowers. Or was that the trace of her perfume?
He heard the soft sounds of insects and reflected on the contrast between the peace out here and the busyness back in the reception room.
He couldn't see any sign of Gemma. He gazed out across the garden with its soft, well-hidden lights that illuminated the rows of trees and flower beds. There was a wide stretch of lawn and he guessed if she was going to be anywhere, she would be somewhere in that direction, perhaps taking some fresh evening air.
Ahmed followed his instinct and walked down the steps from the terrace and out onto the lawn, feeling the grass soft beneath his shoes.
He walked for a minute or two, searching for her.
Then he saw her.
She was sitting on a low bench over by a small fountain.
Completely alone.
This was his chance.
He would never get a better opportunity to try and persuade her that she had made a mistake in agreeing to work with Rashid. He knew it was a risk, but he was willing to do anything if it would deny Rashid.
Ahmed padded over toward Gemma. At first, she didn't seem to hear him or sense his presence. It wasn't until he was a mere couple of feet away from her that she turned suddenly and peered at him. He heard her gasp and she stood up quickly.
Before he even had a chance to say a word, Ahmed felt something take hold of him, a sudden, sharp desire. It had been prompted by the simple act of her standing up and turning to face him, showing him up close what had only been able to glimpse back in the reception hall.
This close, the reality of her beauty was even more stunning. He felt lost for words as he gazed upon her.
Her eyes were an icy blue that seemed to shimmer in the soft light. Her features were even and pretty; her lips full and moist and already tempting him with inexplicable suddenness. She had tied back her blonde hair in an elegant bun. He let his gaze drift down the line of her jaw, down to her neck which was exquisitely long and delicately shaped. Her skin was clear with minimal makeup. He noticed that she was taller than he'd at first guessed. Even in her elegant, flat shoes he was only a head taller than her.
Hers was a body which held undeniable promise.
Ahmed felt a sensation sweep through him that he hadn't felt in a long time. Normally women did not affect him, certainly not as suddenly or as urgently as being in such close proximity to her had just done. His breath halted in his chest for a moment, and he struggled to compose himself, or maintain the usual indifferent calm he assumed when faced with a beautiful woman.
But, Gemma was no mere beauty, on display like a potential trophy.
No. Up this close, Ahmed could see that there was something truly special about her. Something for which he couldn't immediately find words. He realized he probably looked like someone who'd been temporarily stunned.
Her gaze was direct and instantly challenging. "Who are you?" she demanded sharply.
She wrapped her arms around herself, instinctively seeking protection. Was she threatened by him?
He saw her glance back toward the hotel building, and he wondered if she was about to race back there.
"We haven't met," he said quickly. "My name is Ahmed Al Kharif.
The sound of his name seemed to trigger an instant of recognition. Although they hadn't had any direct contact, Ahmed was sure she had heard of him. His extended family was prominent in Qazhar. And he was sure that Rashid wouldn't have wasted an opportunity to mention him to her.
"You own a media company here, right?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.
He nodded. "The other one," he explained, lifting a brow and smiling at her. "The rival one."
She smiled slightly and he felt relieved he'd broken the tension, even if only a little.
Once again her eyes narrowed, and she seemed to consider what had happened, what could explain his presence here.
"Did you just follow me out here?" she asked.
"I've been wanting to talk to you all evening," he replied.
"You and a hundred other people," she said. She cocked her head to one side and examined him. "But, really. Did you see me come out here, and decide to come after me?"
"It's not what it looks like," he suggested.
"And how exactly does it look?" she asked shifting her hips to one side, changing her stance into one with more than a hint of challenge.
Ahmed sighed a little and tried to drag his gaze away from her hips, but it wasn't easy. Not with the way that dress was hugging her body, showing off her curves.
"I thought I could get a few moments of your time. Now that you're away from that," he said gesturing back in the direction of the hotel.
"I don't think that's a good idea," she said.
"Why not?"
"Maybe you should talk to Rashid," she replied. "I assume you two know each other."
He smiled and lowered his head, anxious that she shouldn't be able to read his expression too easily. When he looked back up at her, he saw she was watching him carefully, awaiting his reply.
"We know each other pretty well," Ahmed said. "In fact, I suppose you could say we're rivals."
She nodded. "I gathered that already."
He contained his surprise and gazed inquiringly at her. "You did?"
Gemma nodded. "There isn't much in the media world that slips by me. In case you hadn't noticed, It's my business, too."
He peered at her. "I know that," he announced in flat voice.
"Gemma," she said stretching out a hand.
At first he was surprised at the sudden change. He took her hand, feeling the warmth of her skin, the softness of her hand in his. He shook her hand briefly and gazed into her eyes as he did so. He saw something that surprised him. There, just behind her eyes, he was sure he saw a flicker of surprise, a hint of emotion as she held his hand. But, a moment later, it was gone and she had regained her composure.
"Nice to meet you, Gemma," Ahmed said. And he truly meant it, he realized.
He released her hand and wondered what his next move should be. But, before he could say anything more, she sat back down on the stone bench.
"May I join you?" he asked.
She gazed up at him, and he was sure he saw her eyes narrow, deliberating whether she should allow him that privilege. He was sure he saw her gaze drift briefly down the length of his body, taking in the sight of his dark suit and back up to the open-necked collar of his white shirt. She seemed to approve.
"Sure," she said patting the seat next to her. He started to move, but then she spoke again, taking him by surprise. "I think I can take that chance," she added. That comment made him pause for a moment. Her blue eyes shimmered with mischievous humor.
He smiled at her. "I'm glad you're willing to take the risk of talking with me."
As he sat down, she shook her head. "No business talk."
He felt a sudden disappointment take hold of him. "What do you think I'm after?" he asked.
Her gaze flickered slightly. "I think I know what you're after, sheikh." Her voice had a sudden edge to it, one that had been missing moments before. The extra meaning in what she'd said took him aback. He decided to ignore the suggestion that had been contained in her words.
He lifted his brows in surprise. "You know about my background."
"Sure. Doesn't everyone know about you? You're one of the most prominent sheikhs in Qazhar. You're a member of one of the most important families in the kingdom. And you have your own, modest media company. You're interested in expanding." He laughed quietly and she gazed at him. "Is that about right?"
"I'm impressed." He tilted his head to one side. "I don't whether to be flattered or insulted," he said and grinned.
She rolled her eyes. "I don't think you're someone who is easily insulted. Or flattered," she said.
"Have you been following me?" he teased. "Online, I mean."
She smiled, realizing that he was trying to match her move for move. "I exist online. Don't you know that?"
"Of course I do," he replied. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about."
She lifted a brow. "So you did follow me with selfish intentions in mind," she stated. She gave him another knowing look, and once again he sensed he was being tested.
"Are you like this with all your partners," he said. Her features darkened slightly. "Your business partners, I mean," he added quickly.
She sighed and her lips tightened, the previous good humor vanishing in an instant. She turned away from him.
He paused, assessing whether he'd made the right move, knowing deep inside himself that he'd probably crossed one of her unspoken boundaries.
He thought about the way she had just spoken to him. Her voice sounded different in reality, he reflected. Of course he'd seen some of her videos online, so he was familiar with the way she spoke.
But, somehow, being so close to her like this, she sounded different. Somehow less cheerful. And then he realized what it was which was different. There was a weariness in her voice, almost a tiredness that he could tell she was working hard to disguise with all that fake humor.
He glanced at her, and she looked right back at him, saying nothing. He was right. There was a tiredness in her eyes.
She quickly looked away, as if sensing that he was examining her more closely than she would have liked.
"What do you think of Qazhar?" he asked, hoping he could repair the damage with an ordinary question.
"It's beautiful," she replied. "What I've seen of it, so far, anyway. I've mainly been in the city since I got here."
"You would love the desert," he said.
She turned and looked at him. "You think so?"
Ahmed nodded. "It's glorious. Peaceful and beautiful," he said, his voice filling with a wistful tone.
She frowned. "But you're a city guy, aren't you?" One of those sheikhs in name only who never leaves his palace or the city."
"What gives you that impression?"
"I can't imagine you running a media company from a tent in the desert," she said. Once again that humor was back in her voice and there was a glint in her eye.
"I go to the desert regularly," he explained. "I have to. It makes me feel in touch with where I came from. My tradition. I have a private encampment, well away from prying eyes. Near a little village called Qabiyah. My family originally came from there a long time ago." He sighed. "No-one can interrupt me when I'm there. It's my refuge from this busy life, here in the city. I could not exist without it."
She nodded. "It sounds wonderful. An escape from the world." She sighed. "Away from all the noise and demands."
Again there was that vague melancholy tone in her voice, he reflected. This was a woman who wanted more. She seemed weary of her life in some way.
"The people there know me. Respect me. They are good people with a simple way of life."
"They're lucky," she said.
He looked at her. "Why?"
She shook her head. "Life has become just too complicated for everyone now. Seems like there is nowhere left in the world that hasn't been touched by all this progress. All this change."
"Qabiyah hasn't changed one bit during my lifetime," he explained.
She looked at him. "Really?"
He nodded. "It's totally cut off from the outside world. No cell phones. Only a dirt track road for access."
She smiled and shook her head. "I didn't know places like that still existed."
They were silent for a while. For a few exquisite moments, all he could sense was the sweet scent of her perfume which drifted on the cool, night air. The aroma was intoxicating and made him unnaturally aware of her presence so close to him.
As if by instinct, Ahmed moved closer to her. He was still inches away from her. She took note of that movement and narrowed her eyes. Once again, there was a questioning look in her eyes.
"Did you have some kind of proposal for me?"
Her was momentarily taken aback by her directness. "Business? I thought that was off the table?" he asked.
"I think I know what's going on here," she said.
"Really," he replied in a flat voice.
She turned and faced him. He loved the slow way her body shifted, how her full breasts could be sensed beneath the fabric of her dress.
"Yeah," she said with a slight grin. "I think you want to steal me."
He straightened. "Steal you?"
"Away from Rashid," she said with a nod.
Ahmed shrugged. "Would that be such a terrible thing?"
"It depends."
"On what?"
"On what you intend to do with me once you take me away from Rashid."
For a moment he was surprised at the boldness of her move. Then he remembered what he'd heard about her, and what had drawn him to the idea of having her as a spokesperson for one part of his media company. It was her appeal to the many young women who followed her online. He could see the attraction of her personality now that he was so close to her, sharing these private moments.
"What would it take?" he asked.
"To do what?"
"Get you to leave Rashid and come over to me."
She narrowed her eyes. "Wouldn't that be bad business?"
"Not for me," he stated.
"But, it would be for me, wouldn't it? I mean, I have an agreement with Rashid."
He shook his head. "Agreements are made to be broken."
"Is that how things work in Qazhar?"
He moved closer, about as close as he dared. Now he was almost touching her. He settled his hand at the back of the bench. He saw her watch the movement of his arm, and then look back at him, gazing steadily at him.
"I can show you how good things could be for you here," he said slowly, dropping his voice to a murmur. "If you give me a chance." He saw her cheeks flush slightly. She swallowed and he heard her draw in a soft, long breath. Her gaze was steady, those blue eyes of hers utterly captivating and unflinching.
Ahmed's attention dropped down to her lips. They were temptingly moist, and he saw them open slightly, the bottom lip tantalizingly full. Neither of them said anything for what seemed like an eternity.
The quiet moments seemed to last a very long time. Ahmed could feel his heart pounding, sensed his pulse racing and he wondered just how this had happened. He was used to using his looks and charm to persuade women, but this situation was entirely new to him. She had drawn him in, and this time it wasn't just about business. He knew that even as he contained the urge to ease closer to her, to bridge the gap between them.
Then, she suddenly shifted away from him, as if she had realized just what was happening, as if she'd made a decision. And he knew that decision had nothing to do with business prospects.
He wondered what had driven her to submit to temptation like this. And so rapidly. Had he unknowingly tapped into some unknown well of dissatisfaction within her. On the surface, she looked so in control, so like the way she portrayed herself online. But, out here, she had opened up to him, revealing something about herself she might have preferred to keep secret.
It hadn't been only him who had been taken by surprise.
Gemma stood up quickly and walked away from the bench. "I have to go back inside," she announced abruptly.
Ahmed stood. "Of course," he replied. "Let me see you back."
She turned quickly and shook her head. "No. It's best we aren't seen together."
He paused and then nodded. "Sure."
She started to move away from him, but he halted her with his next words. "If you change your mind..." he started to say, but she cut him off.
"I won't," she said sharply. "You know I can't." She peered at him, awaiting his reply, but he gave her none.
"It's been nice meeting you," she said and then moved rapidly away, striding across the lawn, looking as beautiful as she had during every single moment he'd just spent with her.