The Sheikh's Green Card Bride Page 4

  of night, and the mountains of paperwork between Bahir and the American border was enough to keep him away indefinitely. Visa issues were no small annoyance.

  Bahir’s face cleared as he glanced at her desk, then up at Nicole. “What are you doing here, anyway? I thought I told you to go get some rest.”

  Nicole shrugged, moving towards her seat and turning to face him. “I did. Then I woke up and couldn’t take the silence, so I came here.”

  Bahir’s grin was rueful. “I’ve rubbed off on you,” he said, and she grinned back at him.

  “Not true. I was a worker bee long before I spilled coffee on you that day. A good lawyer knows how to put in the time.”

  “But not the amount I make you do. Every person who came before you sat in that chair across from me and cursed my name to the high heavens, but you’re still here. Don’t you think there’s a part of you that thrives on the thrill of business, just like I do?”

  “There’s a part of me that likes the way my bank account has gone up,” she replied, but Bahir didn’t back down.

  “It’s more than that. No one is crazy enough to put up with me, but you do. And here you are working into the night, even when I’m not here to ask for anything. You’re doing it on your own.”

  Nicole didn’t have the heart to tell him that in that moment she was really just emailing her brother. After all, she had come to the office with the intention of working, hadn’t she?

  “What are you doing tomorrow?” Bahir asked, his eyes suddenly bright.

  “Whatever you tell me I’m doing, as usual,” Nicole replied, and Bahir laughed.

  “Well, what if I invited you to come with me to a little fishing village, outside of the city?”

  Nicole continued to look at him, unsure what he was asking.

  “Is there some kind of deal you want to make out there?” she asked hesitantly, certain that this excursion must have to do with business.

  Bahir laughed. “In a way, yes. You see, I have a deal with myself to give you a well-deserved break so that you can enjoy this country for a little while. What do you think?”

  “You’re asking me if I want my first break in six months? But what about your visa?”

  Bahir only shrugged. “They told me I have to wait at least two days to hear back, if not more. There is nothing to be done, and I’ve already rescheduled the contract signing.”

  “You rescheduled it?” she asked, incredulous.

  Bahir raised one haughty eyebrow. He could be so imperial when he wanted to be.

  “What, you think I’m incapable of managing my own schedule? You’re forgetting that there were several gaps between my assistants before you came along. I had to fend for myself many times.”

  “You poor thing, however did you survive?” she asked, her voice laced with sarcasm.

  Bahir smirked. “Just say you’ll come with me, please?”

  “Is that an order?” she asked, challenging him.

  He leaned in ever so slightly, and Nicole fought the urge to lean back. He was too enticing sometimes, and the last thing she needed was to ruin this opportunity for herself and, possibly, her brother.

  “Consider it a request,” he said, his gaze an open invitation.

  Not sure what he was playing at, Nicole decided to jump in. After all, when was the last time she had taken a break, besides sleeping?

  “I’d be delighted,” she said.

  Bahir grinned from ear to ear. “Great. Let’s take this terrible turn of circumstances and make it into something wonderful. I’ll come grab you in the car tomorrow morning. Be ready by eight sharp.”

  “I will,” she said, her stomach fluttering at the chance to do something fun. What an unexpected surprise!

  Rising, she leaned down and clicked out of her email, telling herself she would write to her brother another time, before turning off the computer.

  Bahir escorted her back out of the building, and, to her surprise, walked her to her apartment. They strolled in amiable silence, which was strange, because they both hated silence.

  When they reached the door, the doorman bowed to them both and held the heavy glass open, waiting for Nicole to step inside. She shivered again. Bahir reached out for a moment, then seemed to think better of it, and placed his hands back at his sides.

  “You should go inside. It’s chilly, and you’ll need rest for our adventure tomorrow,” he said.

  “You should, too. That is, if you even sleep?” she asked, her tone playful.

  Bahir’s grin was sheepish. “Sometimes, though not terribly often. As they say, I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

  Nicole thought about that for a moment. She wondered if Bahir would regret a life spent inside an office, rather than out experiencing the world and all its beauty. Maybe that was enough for him, but was it for her?

  “Goodnight, Bahir,” she said, giving him one last wave before turning towards the door and stepping inside.

  “Goodnight,” he replied, watching her as she disappeared from sight at the elevator before walking back to his own apartment, not five blocks away.

  THREE

  Bahir’s apartment was modern and sleek, with minimalist décor throughout. He had a freshly made bed, a desk with a laptop, and a sparsely stocked kitchen. Usually he ordered food in and ate on the fly while he worked—sitting down to eat was too much of a time suck.

  As he opened the door, he felt a wave of weariness hit him. It had been a long and bitter battle with the visa office before he had finally thrown his hands up in the air in frustration and stormed out. No one said no to Bahir Al-Jabbar. It simply didn’t happen. It was why he was such an exceptional businessman. He knew how to negotiate anything. He’d tried bribery, and had been threatened with arrest! Him! The son of a sheikh!

  Bahir had been beside himself by the time he’d got to the office, and never had he been more grateful to see Nicole.

  As ever, she’d looked stunning, even though she’d clearly been expecting to be alone at the office; her long blond hair had been tossed on top of her head and she’d been wearing flats. Bahir had never seen her wearing flats before.

  When he’d seen her, her face so forlorn in the reflecting computer screen light, he’d wanted to ask her what was wrong, but couldn’t. He was too enraged at what had just happened to him. Being told no. Did they have any idea who he was?

  But she’d been able to calm him down, like she always could. There was something about Nicole that was different than her predecessors. She had a combination of inner drive, intelligence and resiliency that Bahir rarely came across, and he knew a lot of very successful people. Still, Nicole didn’t wear her strength on her sleeve, ensuring everyone could see it. She bore it quietly, ensuring that all was taken care of without a complaint. When she spoke, it was true and honest, and Bahir loved that about her.

  He was trying not to think about what it might have been like to kiss her worries away, when he realized he was not alone.

  Stepping back, he glanced at the chaise longue in the corner of the apartment, by a window overlooking the sea. A scantily clad woman was stretched out on it, looking at him expectantly.

  “Bahir. You didn’t tell me you were back,” the woman purred, and Bahir groaned inwardly. For once in his life he was tired of negotiating. Couldn’t he just go to sleep?

  “Cassandra. I don’t remember giving you a key to this place,” he said, his voice tight with annoyance.

  “You have a new doorman,” she purred, rising and strolling closer, attempting to seduce him.

  At that moment Bahir had a hard time remembering what he had seen in this woman in the first place. Her long brown hair was draped over thin shoulders, her blue eyes sparkling in the reflected city light. She was beautiful, yes, but what did she have going for her beyond that? Besides the ability to break and enter, of course.

  “I’ll have a word with the management,” he replied, taking a step back.

  Cassandra frowned, trying to make even that gestur
e erotic, and it took everything in Bahir not to roll his eyes at her. He was not a man who had time for childish games.

  “What’s the matter, Bahir?” she murmured. She reached out for him, running her hands up his shoulders until her fingers laced at the back of his neck. “You don’t want to play?” she asked, her voice husky.

  Bahir grinned down at her as he placed a kiss on her lips, and felt nothing. Whatever passion he had tried to find with Casandra had burned out, and now all he wanted was for her to leave so he could get some much needed rest.

  He lifted his head from hers and pulled her away. “I’ve got work to do,” he said, his tone flat.

  Cassandra continued to pout, crossing her arms. “You’ve always got work to do. Why don’t you take a break and live a little?” she demanded.

  The longer she stayed, the more Bahir saw her as a toddler demanding a toy. If that’s how she wanted to act, he could be a parent, no problem.

  “Cassandra, I don’t have time for this. You are invading my space, and I’d like you to leave,” he said sternly.

  Cassandra stared at him in disbelief for a moment before storming over to a Louis Vuitton bag by the chaise longue and scooping it up.

  “You’re going to regret this, Bahir. You’ll die a lonely old man with no one by your side. You know you can’t take money to the grave, right?”

  “But you can take a legacy, Cassandra, and isn’t that just as good?”

  “Screw you!”

  “Goodnight to you, too,” he replied, watching as she trotted out of the apartment. How had she seemed like such a good idea a month ago, he wondered.

  Shrugging, he turned on his computer and sent out a few last-minute emails. It was midday in Seattle, and he was able to reach some folks easily before shutting back down and stripping for bed. He laid still, waiting to sleep to come, but, to his annoyance, Cassandra’s words flew across his mind.

  You are going to die a lonely old man.

  Bahir took a breath. It wasn’t a fear of his, per se. He knew deep down that everyone died alone. Still, it made him think about his parents, which was something he never liked to do.

  Bahir’s father was born into wealth, his family name holding a legacy that went back generations. It was a legacy that Bahir had admired and feared as he grew into an adult with the very strong expectation that he would be an asset to the family name. Bahir would be shunned if he was the one to smear the Al-Jabbar empire.

  Still, he had watched as his father worked his own life away as a sheikh, dealing with landowner issues and holding the welfare of thousands of people in his hands. He had been forced to make difficult decisions that had real consequences on people’s lives, and yet he maintained a stoic demeanor through it all. There was a time when he had to choose whether to build a new office building in a downtown neighborhood, which would displace hundreds of families. Bahir was twelve at the time.

  “Papa, you can’t do this! People will be homeless because of you!”

  Raji Al-Jabbar stared into the golden eyes of his naïve young son, and crossed his arms. “You are an expert then, on what is best for our stakeholders as a whole?”

  “No, Papa. I know I’m just a child, but I have played with the children of those families. They are scared for their parents, and for