Rashid’s week was already not going according to plan. Mila had not responded to any of the gifts that he’d sent, and the press had already run an article about whether he’d grown tired of his mystery woman. He started to worry that he really wouldn’t be able to woo Mila.

So when the police showed up at his office at the arena, he was already in a bad mood.

“Sheikh Sharif.” The officer bowed his head in respect. “I am Hamad Al Zayed of the Criminal Investigations Department. I’m afraid that I have some questions for you.”

Rashid flicked his eyes at the security guard who had escorted the officer in and nodded his head. “Please. Come in.”

Hamad looked visibly relieved as he entered. “I apologize for the inconvenience, but I’m afraid that there has been an incident with Azizah Hatami.”

Rashid immediately stiffened. Azizah was one of the key football players for the UAE Arabian Gulf League. He’d played last week at the sports complex, and everyone had been disappointed when the team had lost. “What happened?”

“He was attacked outside a sports club two days after the game. He’ll survive, but he’ll miss a few games. We’ve caught the culprits, but I’m afraid they’ve indicated that there is an illegal betting ring attached to your arena.”

Rashid groaned. While it was legal in Dubai to bet on games, the bets had to be placed in proper venues, and since the sports complex was so new, Rashid was still in the process of cutting through the red tape to set up legal outlets. “I have no knowledge of any betting at the complex, but I’ll be happy to give you complete access to the venue as you investigate.”

With everything that was happening in his personal life, he couldn’t afford to take any hits on his professional life as well. He needed to keep this as quiet as possible and shut it down.

Hamad nodded. “I appreciate that, Sheikh. The attackers indicated that the bets were placed at an online site, but the site had been shut down when we went to investigate it. We currently have no leads, but we will pursue this aggressively until we figure it out. I’d like to leave my card. If you hear or see anything, please let me know.”

“Of course. And if you would please let me know if anyone in my employment is being uncooperative . . .”

Hamad nodded his head and let himself out of the office. Rashid tossed the officer’s card on the desk before balling his fists in anger. It pissed him off to think that someone might be using his venue illegally to make money, but unfortunately, illegal betting sites were common. Still, it was dangerous to have one attached to his complex. The emirates could shut him down.

Back in his office, he made a call to Taysir, the head of his security team. He didn’t trust that the police would keep him apprised of the investigation, and he wanted his own team to look into the matter.

That evening, when he went home, he was bone-tired and a little on edge. So when his driver pulled into the palace, he was surprised to see a taxi outside the gates.

He was even more surprised when he saw Mila get out of the car.

“Stop,” he ordered Ori as he rolled the window down. “Mila.”

“Rashid.” She looked disappointed to see him. “I need to speak to Liyah. I thought she was coming back today.”

So she wasn’t here to see him. He felt his mood sour even more. “There was a delay in their travel plans. They won’t be getting back until the morning.”

To his surprise, he saw tears fill Mila’s eyes.

Trying to blink them away, she said, “Okay, thank you.” Her voice trembled. “I’ll be back in the morning.”

Cursing, Rashid opened the door. “Get in,” he demanded harshly. For a moment, he thought that she might refuse him, but it was clear that something was upsetting her.

“Okay. I need to pay the driver,” she whispered.

Rashid grabbed his card from his wallet and handed it up front. “Ori, take care of the driver for me.”

Mila’s eyes widened, and she shook her head. “Oh, no. Please don’t do that.”

“Mila, get in the car. I’ve had a bad day, and it’s not going to help if you make me get out.”

She bit her bottom lip, but Ori was already out of the car and paying the taxi driver. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she slid into the back seat.

Rashid put his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. Whatever was going on with her, he would make sure to make it right again.

He couldn’t have anything distracting her from his courtship.

Once his driver had taken care of the taxi, Rashid’s car pulled through the gate and around to the private entrance to his wing.

“Have you had dinner yet?” he asked her in a low voice as they got out.

She shook her head.

Rashid pulled out his phone and made arrangements for dinner for two on his patio.

By the time he had Mila in his suite, she had composed herself. “I’m sorry,” she said, giving him a weak smile. “I didn’t mean to turn into a blubbering mess right outside the gates.”

“You really would do my reputation harm if the press had caught a picture of you crying outside the palace,” he teased with a smile. She paled, and he cursed himself. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I was trying to lighten the mood. I didn’t mean it like that. Tell me what happened.”

Mila wandered aimlessly around the main part of the suite, examining the lavishly decorated room. Rashid wished that he could hear what she was thinking. While Khalid, ever the artistic painter, used items that inspired him to decorate his space, Rashid bathed his suite in luxury. Priceless paintings and risqué statues decorated the walls of his living area, and he had signed sports paraphernalia in his bedroom. Every single photo in the suite was of him and some athlete, celebrity, or dignitary.

“Mila,” he prompted.

“Is this Australia?” she asked suddenly as she stroked the frame of one of his photographs. “I’ve always wanted to go scuba diving in Australia. And this is Paris, isn’t it? Amazing.”

“You want to travel?”

“Yeah. I do.” She dropped her hand and turned to him. “If I asked you a question, would you answer it honestly?”

“Even if I think it’s not the answer that you want to hear?” he asked, his head cocked as he walked toward her.

“Especially then.” Her voice was no more than a whisper, but she didn’t back away when he approached her. He nodded his head, and her chest heaved as she took a deep breath. “Why did you choose me?”

He knew what she was expecting to hear. He’d chosen her to compete with his brother. He’d chosen her because he’d thought she’d fall right in line with Liyah.

The truth was none of those things, but he couldn’t offer her that answer, either. “You’re beautiful. You’re passionate. You’re intriguing. You’re different from the other women that I choose to spend my time with. Why would I not choose you?”

She bit her lower lip and stared at him. They were only inches apart, and he desperately wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her until she was breathless.

At last, she answered him. “Because of Liyah. Because I’m a little stubborn and a little wild. I’m not even sure that I’d make a good wife, let alone a good sheikha.”

Giving in to his desire, he reached out and stroked her cheek with the side of a gentle finger. Her skin was so silky and smooth, and he couldn’t help but brush his finger lower until he skimmed the column of her neck. Her pulse beat rapidly beneath his touch. “That works out perfectly because I am not a very good sheikh. I’m not like Asad. I like a little rebellion in my life.”

She sighed breathily, and he pushed her roughly against the wall and kissed her.

Opening her mouth to accept him, she wound her arms around his neck and clung to him as he bore down on her.

He swept his tongue through the parting of her lips as he settled between her open legs. He was rock-hard and aching for more of her.

“Mila,” he whispered and kissed her again. She was everything that he’d imagined she would be. Wet, hot, and eager for him. Just the taste of her brought him to the brink of madness. Before he knew it, his hands were under her shirt, and he stroked her delicate skin.

For one single and dizzying second, he thought about tossing the ideas of romance right out the window and fucking her right against the wall. He had never wanted to be inside someone so badly in his entire life. He wanted to hear her scream his name as he made her come again and again.

“Rashid,” she gasped and put one weak hand between them.

Feeling her resistance, he immediately released her and stepped back.

“Forgive me,” he said hoarsely. He cleared his throat. “Things got away from me. I believe you were here to talk about your problems, not to be ravished by me.”

Her lips were swollen from the force of his kiss, and her clothes were in disarray. She looked down and blushed as her fingers fumbled, trying to straighten them. “You don’t have to apologize. I should probably go.”

“You could stay. Liyah and Asad should be back fairly early.”

She raised her eyebrows, and he backtracked, uncharacteristically stumbling a little over his words. “I don’t mean in my bed. I have a guest room. I already have dinner on the way.”

She chuckled. “Let me get this straight. You’re going to feed me and let me stay here—but not ask for any sex in return?”

He ran a hand over the back of his head and rubbed his neck. “Believe me, it sounds even stranger to me,” he admitted. “What do you say?”

When she nodded her head shyly, he was filled with triumph.

One step closer to getting what he desperately wanted.

* * *

After a wonderful dinner, Mila lounged in one of Rashid’s t-shirts and drawstring sweatpants. Both were far too big, and she had to pull the drawstring tight to fit her slim waist and roll the pants several times so that she wouldn’t trip over them as she walked. She felt ridiculous as she walked out of the room, but she saw nothing but desire in his eyes as his gaze roamed her body.

The shirt smelled like him and kicked her own libido into overdrive. It had taken so much effort to push him away earlier, and she couldn’t help but wonder if she was tempting fate by spending the night.

“I have to admit, I do like the way you look in my clothes,” Rashid murmured.

A thrill of excitement raced through her, but she made an effort not to show it. “I’m surprised that you own something made of cotton. I was starting to think that you didn’t own anything except the most expensive fabrics,” she teased with a wink, ignoring the tension that stretched between them like a string. Or maybe an elastic band. Pulling. Tightening.

Sitting at the edge of the couch, she stretched her legs out to take up all three cushions. She looked deliberately at the chair, but he just grinned and picked up her legs until he could scoot under her.

“Hey!” she protested as he draped her legs over his lap.

“My couch,” he replied simply before he started rubbing her feet.

Heat pulsed between her legs, but she tried to ignore it. She also wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of pulling her legs away in a cry for uncle.

“Fine. I could use a foot massage. A little harder, please,” she said primly.

He snorted but didn’t rise to the bait. “Do you want to talk about Liyah now?”

Mila didn’t want to talk about Liyah.

She didn’t want to discuss anything that was going to ruin the pleasure of having a ridiculously wealthy sheikh massage her aching feet. “We just had a fight. I think she had a hard time explaining how she felt, and I said a bunch of things that I didn’t mean. I can’t just call her up on the phone and apologize. She deserves to see me grovel in person.”

Rashid actually seemed interested. “Do you two fight often?”

“Not at all, but we have a special relationship. We met the first time we both came to Dubai, and then we were pen pals after that. This last visit, she was only here for a short while before she met Asad, so we haven’t even really had time to fight.”

Rashid stroked his thumb across the arch of her foot, sending waves of pleasure up her leg. “I’m sure she’ll understand. Why did you return to Dubai?”

She swallowed hard and leaned back into the pillow behind her. “My father died a year ago,” she said softly. “We were very close, and his death was hard on me. He made me promise before he passed away that I would do everything that I could to fulfill my dreams. I wanted to travel. I wanted to see the world, but that takes money. So I figured that Dubai was a good starting point.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the sensations his fingers were evoking, then resumed her tale. “Liyah and I had both decided that we would return, and Sahaar had stopped taking students in after her husband died, and she told us that we would both have a room there, anytime. I figured it would make a good starting point. The city is incredible. The culture, the atmosphere. It’s like living in a fairy tale. It’s a good place to go if you want to try and believe in yourself again.”

He took his hands away from her foot, and she struggled not to show her disappointment. The man’s hands were magic. She opened her mouth to object, but he was only moving his hands from her left foot to her right. He resumed the heavenly massage and then brought her back to the conversation. “What do you want to see?”

Her eyes widened in pleasure. “Are you kidding me?” She laughed and tossed her arms above her head. “Anything. Everything. America is great, but it doesn’t even come close to the natural beauty and history of the rest of the world. I want to roam the halls of ancient castles and gaze upon the art in Paris. I want to shop in Italy and visit the amazing caves in Vietnam. I want to scuba dive with whales and paraglide over the forests.”

“Live a nomadic life?”

“Sort of. I still want roots. I want to be surrounded by people I love, people who love me, and I need a place to call home, but I want the freedom to roam every now and again. What about you? If you weren’t tied down with business and family responsibilities, what would you do?”

Rashid smiled at her as the massage turned into a light touch, gently stroking. It wasn’t seductive but rather comforting. “I’ve never thought about it. As boys, our responsibility to our family is drilled into our heads. My parents are lucky to have three boys.”

“And Amira,” Mila reminded him.

He snorted. “We all love Amira, but she’s more of a curse than a blessing.” He grunted as Mira playfully kicked him and then smiled as she allowed him to capture her feet once again. “But I like to think that I’ve been able to enjoy my life. Society may disapprove of some of the things that I’ve done, but you have to cut loose and live a little. The sports complex is successful and takes up most of my time, but I still know when to blow off some steam. I make time for the things I want to do in life.”

“And the money to do what you want,” she added wryly.

“That does help.”

Mila stared at him, quiet for a moment. It was refreshing to have an open and honest conversation with the man. Here, on this couch, she felt like she was getting to know the real Rashid. “When you’re married, will you still enjoy your life, as you put it?”

“If you’re asking me if I’ll stray, the answer is no. I would respect my wife, and we would find things that we enjoy doing together. Like traveling.”

Mila’s heart slammed inside her chest. “And scuba diving with whales and paragliding over forests?” she whispered.

His hands stilled as he stared at her. “I’m in for the paragliding, but I might have to wait for you on the boat when it comes to whales. I prefer to be on the water rather than in it. I would definitely take you shopping in Italy and to the Louvre in France. I’ll explore caves for you and rent entire castles for you to get lost in.”

“Rashid,” she whispered.

“Mila, wait. Just hear me out,” he said in a low voice. He pushed her legs aside and stood. She straightened as she watched him walk into his bedroom. When he returned, he had a small velvet box in his hand. He settled on the couch next to her and took her hand.

“I did this all wrong in the beginning. Then it was about finding a wife, but after I spent some time with you, it became more about you. I thought you would be perfect for the situation that I was in, but now I think you might just be perfect for me. I bought this ring for you after the gala. I could have gone bigger, but I thought you might prefer something understated and elegant. Like yourself.”

Her breath caught in her throat as he opened the box. It was a small, brilliant, emerald-cut diamond, but it sparkled with perfect clarity. Every side caught the light and lit up like fire.

He was right. It was perfect for her.

“I had planned to take you out later this week and romance you on the boat with that candlelight dinner you were talking about, but somehow, I think this is more fitting. Mila, I don’t want a marriage of convenience with you. I want a real marriage, and I know that my social status is forcing me to rush things, so I’d like to propose something a little different. Wear my ring, Mila. Give me a chance to prove that we can have the real thing. No contracts. No money. Instead, I’m offering you the world.”

There were no words of love, but she didn’t expect there to be. Mila knew that she was already falling for him, and she had every confidence that in time, he would fall for her, too.

All she had to do was say yes.

She opened her mouth, but the word stuck in her throat. She was overwhelmed by everything, terrified and excited at the same time, and all she could do was nod.

Rashid slipped the ring on her finger and leaned over to kiss her. As she curled her fingers in his hair and opened up to him, she knew that her life was never going to be the same.