The Return of the Sheikh

He leaned back and streaked a palm over his shadowed jaw. “You are here at my brother’s request, not mine. According to Rafiq, you are one of the best political consultants in this country. If your reputation holds true.”

If his reputation held true, she had her work cut out for her. “I’ve worked alongside political strategists in successfully assisting high-profile figures with public perception.”

“And why do you believe I would need your assistance with that?”

Okay, she’d draw him a picture, but it wouldn’t be pretty. “For starters, you haven’t been back to Bajul in years. Second, I know there’s concern that you won’t be welcomed with open arms when you do return to assume your position as king. And last, there is the issue with the women.”

He had the gall to give her a devil-may-care grin. “You cannot believe everything you hear, Ms. Foster.”

“True, but many people believe what they read. Therefore, it’s imperative we convey that you’re focused on being an effective leader like your father.”

His smile disappeared out of sight. “Then I am to assume you wish to mold me into the image of my father.”

She found the comment to be extremely telling. “No. I want to help you build a more favorable image of yourself.”

“And how do you propose to do that?”

Very carefully. “By reintroducing you to your people through a series of public appearances and social events.”

He inclined his head and studied her straight-on. “You intend to invite the entire country to a cocktail party?”

She could now add sarcastic along with sexy to his list of attributes. “The social events would be private. I’ll include only those in your close circle of friends and your family, as well as members of the governing council. Possibly a few foreign dignitaries and politicians and perhaps some investors.”

He grabbed a pen from the desktop and began to turn it over and over. “Go on.”

At least he seemed mildly interested. “As far as the public appearances are concerned, I have a lot of experience with speech writing,” she said. “I’d be happy to assist you with that.”

He frowned. “I have a graduate degree in economics from Oxford and I am fluent in five languages, Ms. Foster. What makes you think I cannot compose my own speeches in an articulate manner?”

Nothing like stepping on his royal pride. “I’m sure you’re quite capable, Your Highness, which is why I said I’d assist you. What you say and how you say it will be extremely important in winning over the masses.”

He tossed the pen aside and released a gruff sigh. “I have no reason to engage in political maneuvering. In the event you haven’t heard, my position is already secure. I was chosen to be king, and my word is the law. I am the law.”

“True, but when people are happy with their leader, that makes for a more peaceful country. And we have less than a month before your official coronation to change your country’s opinion of you. During that time, we’ll cover all the details, from the way you speak and act to the way you dress.”

He sent her a sly, overtly sensual smile. “Will you be dressing me?”

The sudden images flitting around Madison’s mind would be deemed less than appropriate. They even leaned a little toward being downright dirty. “I’m sure your staff can assist you with that.”

“It’s unfortunate that’s not among your duties,” he said. “I would be more inclined to agree to your plan.”

As far as she was concerned, he could put that charisma card right back into the deck. “Look, I realize you’re used to charming women into doing your bidding, but that tact doesn’t work with me.”

He gave her a skeptical look. “If I decide to accept your offer, would you be willing to stay on after the coronation?”

She hadn’t expected that question. “Possibly, if you could afford to keep me on staff. My services aren’t cheap.”

He released a sharp, cynical laugh. “Look around, Ms. Foster. Does it appear I’m destitute?”

Not even close. “We can discuss the possibility later. Right now, we need to concentrate on the current issue at hand, if you’re willing to work with me.”

He studied the ceiling for a moment before bringing his gaze back to hers. “The answer is no, I am not willing to work with you. I am quite capable of handling my own affairs.”

She wasn’t ready to give up without pointing out the most major concern. “Speaking of affairs, I’m also skilled when it comes to dealing with scandals, in case you have any of those little sex skeletons hiding in a closet.”

His expression turned steely as he stood. “My apologies for wasting your time, but I believe we are finished now.”

Apparently she’d hit a serious nerve, and yes, they were definitely finished.

Madison came to her feet, withdrew a business card from her bag and placed it on the desk. “Should you change your mind, here’s my number. I’ll let you break the news to your brother.”

“Believe me, I have much to stay to my brother,” he said. “That is first on my agenda when I return to Bajul.”

She’d like to have front row seats to that. She’d also like to think he might reconsider. Unfortunately, neither fell into the realm of possibility at the moment. “I wish you all the best for a smooth transition, Your Highness. Again, let me know if you decide you need my services.”

After slipping the bag’s strap back on her shoulder, Madison covered her disappointment with a determined walk to the door. But before she made a hasty exit, the sheikh called her back. “Yes?” she said as she faced him, trying hard not to seem too hopeful.

He’d rounded the desk and now stood only a few feet away. “You’ve changed quite a bit since we first met all those years ago.”

The fact he did recall the dinner party, and he hadn’t bothered to mention it before now, thoroughly shocked her. “I’m surprised you remember me at all.”

“Very difficult to forget such an innocent face, ocean-blue eyes and those remarkable blond curls.”

Here came the annoying blush, right on cue. “I wore glasses and braces and my hair was completely out of control.” Which had all been remedied with laser eye surgery, orthodontists and flat irons.

He took a few steps toward her. “You wore a pink dress, and you were very shy. You barely glanced my way.”

Oh, but she had. Several times. When he hadn’t been looking. “I’ve since gotten over the shyness.”

“I noticed that immediately. I’ve also noticed you’ve grown into a very beautiful woman.”

Madison barely noticed anything but his dark, pensive eyes when he walked right up to her, leaving little space between them. “Now that we’ve established my transformation,” she said, “I need to get to the airport so I don’t miss my flight to D.C.” She needed to get away from him before his extreme magnetism commandeered her common sense.

“I do have a private jet,” he said, his gaze unwavering. “You are welcome to use it whenever it is available. If you plan to travel to the region in the future, feel free to contact me and I’ll arrange to have you transported to Bajul. I would enjoy having you as my guest. I could show you things you’ve never seen before. Give you an experience you will not easily forget.”

She’d enjoy being his guest, perhaps too much. “You mean an evening trek by camel, or perhaps on the back of an elephant, across the desert? You’ll feed me pomegranates while we’re entertained by dancing girls?”

He looked more amused than offended by her cynicism. “I prefer all-terrain vehicles to camels and pachyderms, I detest pomegranates, but dancing would be an option. Between us, of course.”

She didn’t dare dance with him, much less take a midnight ride with him in any form or fashion. “As fascinating as that sounds, and as much as I appreciate the offer, I won’t be traveling outside the U.S. now that I won’t be working with you. But thank you for the invitation, and have a safe trip home.”

This time when Madison hurried away, the future king closed the doors behind her, a strong reminder that another important career door had closed.

However, she refused to give in to defeat. Not quite yet. As soon as the sheikh returned home, he might decide he needed her after all.

He greatly needed an escape.

The absolute loss of freedom weighed heavily on Zain as the armored car navigated the steep drive leading to the palace. So did the less-than-friendly reception. A multitude of citizens lined the drive, held back by the guards charged with his protection. Some had their fists raised in anger, others simply scowled. Because of the bulletproof glass, he couldn’t quite make out what they were shouting, yet he doubted they were singing his praises.