The Return of the Sheikh

“Yes, I do. I mean, I did.” Clearly he was trying to divert her attention from more pressing concerns by using her former pooch. “Could we please get back on point?”

“Yes,” he said. “The point is I am quite capable of overcoming my exaggerated reputation by demonstrating there is more to my character.”

He was so sure of himself. So sexy in his confidence, and she hated herself for noticing. Again. “Can you really do that? Can you persuade the world you’re a serious leader when you can’t even convince your own brother you’re committed to your duty?”

His dark eyes relayed an intense anger. “What did Rafiq tell you when I left the table?”

Not as much as she would’ve liked. “He only said that he’s worried you’ll take off again if the pressure becomes too great.”

“Despite what my brother believes, I am not a coward.”

“I don’t think anyone is calling you a coward.” She sighed. “Look, I realize you have a lot of pride, but you might want to give up a little and realize you need someone in your corner. Someone who can serve as a sounding board during this transition.”

“And you are that someone?”

“I can be. And if you’ll allow me to use my connections, I can help establish some allies, and every country needs those. Even small, autonomous countries. I also still contend that you could use some help with your public addresses.” When he started to speak, she held up her hand to silence him. “I know, you have a degree and you’re intelligent and articulate, but I don’t see the harm in brainstorming content.”

“I still see no reason why I would need to consult anyone on what I wish to say or how I wish to say it.”

She was making no headway whatsoever. “What about the press? Wouldn’t you like to have someone serve as a buffer to make certain they convey the proper message?”

“I have Deeb for that.”

Deeb had about as much personality as a paperweight. “But if you show the world that you have a woman at your side, and one you’re not engaging in a torrid affair, that would send a clear message you’re not the player everyone believes you to be.”

He studied the ceiling and remained silent for a few seconds before he brought his attention back to her. “Should we proceed, I have to be assured that whatever you might hear or might learn within these sacred walls will not be repeated.”

Madison sensed impending victory, and possibly some serious secrets. “You can trust me to maintain confidentiality at all costs. But I have to know if there’s a scandal that could surface in the foreseeable future.”

“Not if I can prevent it. And at the moment, that is all you need to know.”

Madison could only hope that he might eventually trust her enough to confide in her. Otherwise, she couldn’t prepare for the worst-case scenario. “Fine. Then you agree to accept my help?”

He streaked a palm over his shaded jaw. “For the time being, and as I stated earlier, you must agree to my terms.”

Clearly he needed to maintain control. She’d give him a little leeway for now. “Fine. Perhaps now would be a good time to spell out your terms.”

“If I disagree with your advice, you’ll refrain from arguing,” he said.

That could prove to be a challenge. “Okay.”

“You will consult me before you plan your soirées, and you will let me approve the guest lists.”

Considering his lack of popularity, it could prove to be a short list. “Fair enough.”

“And you will adhere to my schedule, which means I will decide the time and the place for our meetings.”

“I assumed your study would be the most appropriate meeting place.”

“It might be necessary to find a more private venue.”

Now she had her own terms to present. “As long as it’s not your bedroom.”

He smiled. “You’re not the least bit curious about my royal quarters?”

Oh, yes, she was. “No. Anything else?”

He feigned disappointment. “I’ll let you know as soon as I’ve determined what I expect beyond what we’ve already discussed.”

Talk about being vague. But she’d accept vague as long as she could continue as planned. “We’ll go over your upcoming schedule in the morning, Your Highness, and plan accordingly.”

“Call me Zain.”

Her mouth momentarily dropped open over the request. “That’s a bit too informal, don’t you think?”

“When we’re alone, I want you to call me by my given name. Otherwise, our agreement terminates immediately.”

What kind of game was he playing? Only time would tell, and Madison hoped she didn’t find herself on the losing end.

She came to her feet and tugged at the hem of her blouse. “Whatever floats your boat, Zain. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to my room to relax.”

“You are excused. For now.”

Madison had only made it a few steps toward the door before Zain uttered the single word. “Black.”

She turned and frowned. “Excuse me?”

“You’re wearing black lingerie.”

Did the man have X-ray vision? “Why are you so fascinated with my underwear?”

His grin arrived slowly. “Am I correct?”

She folded her arms beneath her breasts. “That’s for me to know—”

“And for me to find out?”

She should’ve known he’d been in America long enough to learn all the little sayings. “That’s for me to know, period. Anything else? Or would you like to discuss your royal underwear?”

His grin deepened. “I have nothing to hide.”

That remained to be seen. She intended to leave well enough alone before she was tempted to abandon the good-sense ship. Before she gave in to the tiny little spark of awareness or the slight full-body shiver brought about by his deadly smile. “I’m going now.”

He finally rose from the chair. “I suggest you watch the sunset from the terrace outside your room. I’ll have Elena send up some of her special tea to help you relax.”

She’d be more relaxed as soon as she got away from all his charisma. “What kind of tea?”

“I’m not certain,” he said as he strolled toward her and stopped only a foot or so away. “I’ve never tried it. I do know it is formulated to help a person sleep.”