Olivia Gates - Claimed by the Desert Sheikh

Maggie grinned. “You have to respect a woman who enjoys real estate.”

As soon as the words were out, she wanted to stuff them back in her mouth. There were probably a thousand different ways for someone to interpret that comment and most of them were bad.

But before she could think about throwing herself off the nearby balcony, Mukhtar laughed. “An excellent observation, my dear. Very funny.”

She exhaled in relief. Time for a safer topic. “I’m looking forward to the performance tonight. I’ve heard most of the music from the show, but I’ve never seen it in person.” She thought about mentioning she’d seen the performance on PBS, but maybe he wouldn’t know what that was and she wasn’t sure he would find the explanation interesting.

“You are in for an experience,” the king said. “The music is compelling and touches one’s soul.”

Maggie didn’t know what to say to that. Fortunately the lights flickered. Qadir returned to her side and guided her to their seats.

“I did okay,” she whispered. “I didn’t say anything stupid to the king.”

Instead of answering, Qadir motioned to her right. She turned and saw Mukhtar sitting next to her.

She smiled tightly, then leaned to her left.

“You are so going to be punished for this later.”

Qadir, of course, only laughed.

The orchestra began playing. At first Maggie was so aware of the king seated close, she couldn’t relax. But eventually the story pulled her in. She found herself caught up in the events playing out on the spartan stage. When Javert killed himself, she felt tears in her eyes.

She did her best to blink them back, only to feel something soft pressing against her hand.

She looked down and saw a white handkerchief, then sniffed and looked at the man handing it to her.

“He was a good man facing an impossible choice,” Qadir murmured. “His soul could only handle so much before it ripped in two.”

She nodded without speaking, then wiped away her tears. He put his arm around her and pulled her close. She relaxed with his embrace, and felt safe for the first time in what seemed like forever.

Qadir stood by the office in the garage. It was his nature to take charge, to direct. Rather than give in to that need, he’d physically stepped back to let Maggie have control of the moment.

Gone was the sophisticated beauty from the previous night. Today she was all business, in coveralls and a T-shirt, her hair pulled back, her face scrubbed clean. She focused on nothing but the equipment and the men she directed as the engine was slowly lifted from the body of the Rolls.

Qadir knew he should be paying attention to the action. The engine was the heart of the car and if something happened to it then true restoration wasn’t possible. Yet he couldn’t seem to stop watching Maggie as she moved around the car, double-checking that everything was secure and then nodding for the men to resume.

There was something in the way she moved, he decided. Or maybe it was knowing that she could be both this competent leader and yet feminine enough to cry because a character in a play died.

Her tears had startled him. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d seen a woman cry for reasons other than manipulation. Later, as the musical had continued, Maggie had struggled for control, telling him or perhaps herself that she was fine.

“Swing it around,” Maggie called out. “Slowly. We don’t have any other plans for the day. That’s it. Great job. Just like that.”

He watched as the engine was lowered to the supports that would allow Maggie to work her magic on the aging beauty. When the engine was in place, Maggie breathed a sigh of relief and applauded her team.

“Excellent work,” she told the men. “Thank you so much for your patience and attention to detail.”

Qadir waited until everyone had gone to walk over to the engine.

“It could be worse,” she told him without bothering to look at him. “I’ll admit to a few moments of terror when it was pulled out. I thought there was more damage. But there doesn’t seem to be any horrible surprises. It’ll take me a few days to take everything apart and access the damage. That will really tell us where we stand.”

She glanced up at him. “What? You’re looking at me funny.”

“You are an interesting combination of traits. You were very good with the men.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ve been working with men my whole life.”

“These are men of my country, not yours. They do not usually take direction from a woman. Yet you established authority with them easily and offered them much praise. They will speak well of you.”

“Don’t be so surprised. I told you when you hired me, I know what I’m doing.”

Surprise didn’t describe his feelings. He was intrigued by her. Impressed. Aroused. But not surprised.

“The king likes you, as well,” he said.

She pulled a rag from her back pocket and wiped her hands. “Okay, that one I don’t know how to deal with.”

“You should be pleased.”

“Why? Wouldn’t it be better if he didn’t like me? We’re going to break up. I don’t want him mad at me when that happens.”

Qadir smiled. “Fear not. I will keep him from locking you away when you break my heart.”

“How comforting.”

“You did very well at the theater. Our next event will be to have dinner with As’ad and Kayleen. That will be easier.”

“Maybe for you,” Maggie said with a sigh. “I’m not so sure. I only had to talk to the king for a couple of minutes. Dinner is a lot longer. They’re going to ask questions like where we met.”

“We met here,” he reminded her.

“Oh. Right. Well, they’ll want to know other stuff. Like what we see in each other.”

A question he could easily answer, he thought as he watched her walk around the engine. Maggie was bright and funny and she spoke her mind. She was also a fascinating combination of competent and sexy. Like now. The coveralls hid everything, which only made him want to see and touch all that they concealed.

“My brother and his fiancée are within weeks of their wedding,” he told her. “They have adopted three young girls. If the conversation turns too personal, ask about some detail in the planning or how the children are doing. I am confident that you’ll be just fine.”

“Wish I were.” She walked over to the car and ran her hands along the side. “This I understand. This makes sense to me. Where art meets function. Couldn’t I just stay here and work on the car?”

He crossed to her and touched her face. Her skin was soft, her eyes wide, her mouth … tempting.

“Do you wish to be released from our arrangement?” he asked, wanting her with a power that left him hungry and restless.

Her pupils dilated. “No. I just want to whine about it.”

As always, she made him smile. “Then I will ignore your complaints.”

“Fair enough.”

“I must return to my office.”

The need to kiss her was strong, but he resisted. He’d hired Maggie to convince his father he was involved. He would not take advantage of the situation, no matter how much she tempted him.

He left the garage and walked toward the palace. Halfway through the garden he realized he had not told Maggie what time they were to meet for dinner.

He retraced his steps. She wasn’t in the garage, so he crossed to her office. The door was closed. He opened it without knocking and walked inside only to find Maggie changing her clothes.

She stood in the center of the room, her back to him. As he watched, the coveralls fell to the floor and she stepped out of them.

She’d already removed her boots, so she wore nothing but socks, tiny panties and a T-shirt.