Bought And Paid For: The Tycoon's Sheikha Bride Read online

  As Jasmina followed, she tried to think about anything other than how close she had come to kissing that scoundrel as he dipped her.

  She had to get a grip!

  Chapter Nine

  “Your Highness? The reporter has arrived.”

  Jasmina looked up from her laptop. It seemed she had been staring at it almost nonstop since her reign began. At least, when she wasn’t dodging the not-so-subtle advances of her fake fiancé.

  Thinking of Jenson brought out a turbulent clash of emotions within her. Sometimes when she was with him the tiniest of flashes of kindness would filter through. He would hold open a door for her, or pour her a cup of tea, or say something she couldn’t understand. She barely knew the man, but it was clear that there was another, more complicated person beneath the surface. She often wondered if she would ever crack through his shell to see the man beneath.

  Did she even want to?

  Jasmina nodded to Asha, saving her place on the document she was reading before she followed her loyal lady-in-waiting back to her quarters, where she was dressed in an elaborate gown suitable for a public interview. There had been questions swirling around her and Jenson over the past month or so since their engagement announcement, and she had successfully averted them as best she could. Still, her people deserved information, even if it was all a lie.

  Dressed in a golden gown, her dark tresses twisted up into a small crown around her head, Jasmina took one last look at herself in the mirror. Before she could turn away, she paused, looking deeply into her own eyes.

  She had never remembered looking so sad.

  Jasmina gave herself a gentle reminder that she would have to work better at masking that emotion, especially as she was about to step in front of cameras. There was a gentle knock at the door.

  “Come in,” Jasmina said, dabbing at the corner of her eye to remove any excess moisture that might have popped up in her reverie.

  “Wow.”

  She turned to see Jenson, dressed in a well-cut suit and tie, frozen in the doorway as he stared at her. A little tingle in her belly told her that she enjoyed the admiring stare, and it annoyed her no end.

  “Mr. Black. I wasn’t expecting to meet you in here.”

  Jenson glanced around. It was the first time he had entered her bedroom, and she tried not to think of the massive canopy bed just steps away. It seemed wildly inappropriate, even if she had spent her college years in liberal New York. He took a few steps forward until he was facing her, his usual cocky grin in place.

  “It took me a while to find it, but as our nuptials get closer it just seems right that I should have access to this room, doesn’t it?”

  His tone was deeply suggestive, his eyes darting toward the bed. Jasmina stepped around him, not looking back.

  “We are not married yet, Mr. Black. I expect you to have better decorum in the future.”

  She stood facing away from him, trying to get her bearings. His presence filled the entire room, and she was losing her breath with every second he stood near her. She gasped when she felt him step up behind her, pressing his chest against her back and whispering in her ear.

  “Aren’t you even a little bit curious?” he breathed, planting a whisper-soft kiss just behind her earlobe.

  Jasmina began to shake, her body reacting to his lips against her skin. She turned to face him, not sure which position was more dangerous.

  “No,” she said, though the shake in her voice gave her away.

  Jenson’s grin broadened as he took another step toward her, his face only inches from hers.

  “For a monarch, you are a terrible liar.”

  “And yet somehow I’ve managed to lie to my entire country about having any sort of affection for you.”

  She glared up into his green eyes, willing herself not to betray her desires by kissing him. Jenson Black was a manipulative cad, not worth of the dirt on her shoe. Giving in to her desires for him would only make him think he had more power over her, and perhaps even over her nation. It was not something she could risk.

  Fortunately, Asha chose that moment to walk into the room, ready to escort them to the library, where they would be interviewed by one of El Jayiah’s premier cable networks. When Asha saw Jenson, she beamed.

  “Mr. Black, it’s good to see you! Are you ready for your close-up?”

  Her eyes were bright with admiration, and Jasmina found herself perplexed that her most trusted confidant would be so amiable to the man she so despised. It was maddening! Jenson’s smile was bright as he took Asha’s hand and pressed a delicate kiss to the back of it.

  Ah, but he was the charmer, wasn’t he?

  “My dear Asha, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Jenson?”

  “At least a few more, sir. It’s not our way to call people by their first names without knowing them well enough.”

  “Someday you will know me quite well, I imagine.”

  “Yes, sir. If you’ll both follow me, it’s time to head to the library.”

  Asha opened the bedroom door, and Jasmina glanced from her servant to her fiancé. Jenson stepped to her side and held out his elbow for her to take.

  “My lady?” he said.

  It was more of a challenge than a question, and Jasmina narrowed her eyes at him before placing her palm in the crook of his elbow, trying hard not to breathe in the delectable scent of his cologne.

  “I sincerely hope that you went over our origin story once more before today,” Jasmina whispered.

  “You mean that trite document you sent over that’s filled with plot holes? Yes, I did, though I imagine our story might come out a bit differently on camera.”

  A wave of panic washed over her.

  “You can’t stray from the story, Jenson. We have to be credible if any of this is going to work.”

  “I’ll make it work, don’t you worry.”

  Jasmina was prepared to berate him for the millionth time when Asha reached the library door and pressed it open. The room was filled with cameras and production staff dashing around, making sure everything was functioning correctly. Jasmina instantly plastered a smile on her face, hoping it was believable.

  “The show must go on,” she muttered to herself.

  Jenson reached his hand over and squeezed hers.

  “It’s going to be fine Jasmina. Trust me.”

  She would have scoffed if there weren’t so many people watching them. Jasmina had grown used to every eye in every room landing on her whenever she walked anywhere. It was part of her life that she had only escaped when she was in New York. In that moment, she missed being anonymous, even for just a moment.

  “Your Highness,” Jericho al-Hawni, El Jayiah’s top news anchor stepped forward with a respectful bow. “It’s an honor to see you again.”

  Jasmina smiled benevolently, holding out a hand for Jericho to take, which he did for a moment before letting it drop, as was proper.

  “Jericho. It’s always a pleasure to see you.”

  He beamed at her words, turning to face Jenson.

  “And Jenson Black, the luckiest man in the world. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I hope you’re both in good spirits for our interview today? I can’t thank you enough for taking the time.”

  Jenson held out his hand for Jericho to shake, his gaze steady.

  “Always ready for any challenge that comes our way, aren’t we, Jasmina?”

  “That’s what El Jayiah is all about,” she said with a small smile, and Jericho nodded approvingly.

  “If you would please take a seat, we’ll be ready to start broadcasting in just a few minutes. Just get comfortable.”

  Jasmina nodded, and Jericho was off, his forehead getting a little more powder on it before they began. She sat down, Jenson sitting very close beside her, still holding her hand. She wondered if it was as clammy as it felt. She would be committing a terrible act by lying on camera again, and of course Jenson couldn’t possibly understand. He seemed to have no moral code whats
oever.

  Jericho returned, sitting in a chair across from them.

  “You know the drill, Your Highness. Once the green light appears, I’ll start the interview. Ready?”

  As I’ll ever be, she thought.

  “Of course,” she said, the picture of dignity.

  The green light flashed on, and Jericho began his interview.

  “It is my great honor today to be speaking with Sheikha Jasmina Bel Hasnawi and her betrothed, Mr. Jenson Black. Your Highness, Mr. Black, thank you both for sitting down with us today.”

  “It’s our pleasure, Jericho,” Jenson said. He looked dashing and comfortable, confident and handsome all at once, and Jasmina found herself wishing that he was a little more like the man he portrayed himself to be.

  “Let’s start with the question on everyone’s lips. How did you two meet? Was it love at first sight?”

  Jasmina blushed, just she had intended to. She glanced coyly up at Jenson, who met her gaze with adoration in his eyes. For a moment, even she felt fooled by the act.

  “It wasn’t, actually,” she said. “I found him entirely repulsive at first.”

  Jenson’s eyes widened. That wasn’t part of the script, and he knew it. Jasmina gave a tiny shrug, silently communicating with him—if you’re not sticking to the script, neither will I.

  Jericho laughed at her blunt honesty, waiting for her to go on.

  “The truth is, Jericho, that Jenson was crude and bossy, and absolutely the last person on Earth I wanted anything to do with.”

  Jericho chuckled again, gesturing to their entwined arms.

  “Clearly that didn’t last, though.”

  “No, it didn’t,” she said, gazing up at Jenson with affection. “Over time he showed me that he was so much more than the hard-shelled CEO he pretends to be.”

  “Hey now, I’ve got a reputation to protect here!” Jenson said, and they all laughed together.

  They answered a few more of Jericho’s questions, winging it as they went. Jasmina could only hope that they would remember the things they’d said so they wouldn’t contradict themselves later. She made a mental note to get a recording of this interview so she could go over their answers and memorize them.

  “Well it sounds like even in the face of a rocky beginning, you two have found your way toward true love. My last question, which I think everyone is asking, is how soon can we expect a new heir after the nuptials have taken place?”

  Jenson laughed, and Jasmina blushed, unable to stop herself thinking of his body pressed against hers. Would she be able to resist him once they were married? Did she want to?

  “We’ll keep you posted, Jericho. For now, we’re really just focused on the getting married part,” Jenson answered.

  Jericho accepted that response, addressing the camera as he closed out the interview.

  “There you have it, folks. A royal romance for the ages. If there’s one thing I can say for certain, it’s that these two are very deeply in love with one another.” He turned to face them both. “Thank you again for taking the time to sit down with me.”

  “It was our pleasure, Jericho,” Jasmina said, glad it was over.

  The light on the camera flicked off, and just like that, the interview was over.

  Chapter Ten

  “Thank you again, Your Highness, and may you both experience bliss as you move toward your wedding day.”

  “Thank you, Jericho. I’m sure we’ll be doing more of these as time goes on.”

  “I certainly hope so. Thank you again.”

  Jasmina stepped ahead of Jenson, making an exit from the library on her own. As he fell in step beside her, his phone rang in his back pocket, and he pulled it out to see who was calling.

  “I should take this. Is there a room I can use?”

  Jasmina waved to a side room, and Jenson nodded his thanks before answering the call and stepping inside, leaving the door open.

  “Johnny Boy. How’s it hanging, bro?”

  Jasmina continued walking, but something in her stopped her feet. Jenson’s voice was leaking out into the hallway, and she found herself curious as to what he was like when talking with his friends. Taking a few small steps back, she hovered outside the door.

  Jenson laughed heartily.

  “You watched the interview, huh? How’d I look?”

  When his friend clearly said something unflattering, Jenson scoffed at him.

  “Lies. You know I looked great. What’s that? Oh, yeah, absolutely. Quite the hot piece of royal ass, isn’t she? Talk about having my cake and eating it too. I’m going to be a sheikh with a stunner for a wife. No one is going to top me after this. I might be rich now but things are about to get stratospheric.”

  Jasmina’s blood turned cold as she listened to his crass conversation. Fortunately, it didn’t last much longer.

  “Hey, I gotta go, but let’s grab lunch next time I’m in New York, okay?”

  He ended the conversation, and Jasmina gave herself to the count of five to calm down before she pressed the door all the way open. Jenson turned, his eyebrow lifting at her expression.

  “If you’re going to have conversations like that with the door open, this engagement is going to end far sooner than you think. If we’re discovered, you don’t have a foot to stand on.”

  Jenson glanced at the door and shrugged.

  “Oops,” he said, completely unapologetic.

  “Beyond that, and the fact that you don’t seem to care that you’ve just degraded your future wife to some frat buddy of yours, I would highly recommend that you search for any kind of morals you may have and apply them, fast.”

  Jenson shrugged again, his expression growing hard.

  “This is what you signed up for, honey. I am who I am, and I’m not about to change for you or anyone else. Better get used to it now; the sooner you accept me, the sooner we can be real about what this marriage really is.”

  Jasmina imagined smoke coming out of her ears, but she kept her cool. That was her job, after all. Flying off the handle wasn’t a luxury she was afforded.

  “I see. With that it would seem our time today has come to an end, then. Do try and keep the door closed when you feel the need to debase me to your friends moving forward. And I will do my best to treat you like the object you are, in the spirit of equality. Goodbye, Mr. Black.”

  She turned from the room, making long strides to get away from him as quickly as possible. She thought she heard him call out her name, but it was likely just her imagination. Jenson Black had never cared about anyone above himself, and even as she had grown to see some semblance of a softer side to him every so often, it was clear that it wasn’t enough to overtake the beast he really was.

  Closing her bedroom door behind her, Jasmina struggled to breathe, her dress suddenly like a strait jacket, choking the life out of her. She was trapped, unable to break out of the wedding deal for the same reasons she had agreed to go along with it. Without Asha to help her, Jasmina struggled out of the garment, freeing herself after several minutes of cursing and crying. As she tumbled out of the gown, she sat on the floor, gazing up at the ceiling as though she might find answers there.

  She tried to focus on the greater good of it all. She wasn’t doing all of this without reason. She was doing it because she loved her country and her people, and she needed to make sacrifices because it was what she was born to do. Her mind drifted to the past, when her father had been there to act as her mentor.

  He had guided her for so many years. When Jasmina hit her early teen years, the Sheikh began allowing her to sit in on council meetings. She remembered one day when things had been particularly tense, due to a threat from the east.

  “The armies of Al Jona are mobilizing, Your Highness. We must act quickly!”

  The Sheikh sat in silent contemplation as he read through the paperwork his top general had brought. He had told Jasmina before the meeting began that the general was thirsty for war, but it was important to be mindful tha
t his information could have merit. After some time, the Sheikh lifted his head.

  “And what is your recommendation, General?”

  “My recommendation is that we supply our troops and send them to the border to prepare for war. We must protect El Jayiah at all costs!”

  “At all costs? Even at the cost of the lives of our people?”

  “If we want to save countless others, then yes!”

  “And yet the threat has not yet arrived. Tell me why I should commit an act of aggression without just cause.”

  The general glared at the Sheikh, formulating his argument.

  “Because if we do not, Your Highness, and the enemy was to invade, then we would be personally responsible for the deaths of thousands.”

  The Sheikh continued to stare at the papers, contemplating. Jasmina watched him intently, wondering what he would do next. He sighed, his shoulders heavy.

  “Very well. Mobilize the troops, station them at the border, but do nothing else. If you make an act of aggression, rather than an act of defense, I will personally see to it that you never work in our armed forces again. Am I understood, General?”

  The general continued to frown, but he nodded, satisfied that he had gotten what he came there for. After he left, the council dispersed, but the Sheikh held the royal treasurer, Bayim, back. Once the door was closed, they were safe to talk.

  “Your Highness?”

  “I need to you remove funds from the royal line to fund those troops.”

  Bayim’s eyes widened.

  “Sir? Are you certain? That money hasn’t been touched in decades.”

  “And yet it is the only fund we can take from that won’t affect our people.”

  “It will affect you, and your legacy. What if the monarchy runs out of funds? How will we sustain you and your family?”

  “You let us worry about that. Besides, I don’t truly believe we will be invaded, which means the spending should be miniscule…at least by national spending standards.”

  There was a slight tilt to his lip, not quite a smile. Jasmina knew that look well. Her father wasn’t really smiling, at least not on the inside.