The Sheikh's Green Card Bride Page 6

  Nicole shrugged her shoulders. “Something’s gotta give, right? If you want someone willing to give you their time, to love you as you deserve to be loved, then you should be willing to provide the same. If your business is your biggest love, then you shouldn’t bother wasting these girls’ time. It’s an empty promise.”

  Bahir stared at her then, until she had to look away. When she glanced back at him, he said, “You’re very annoying. Do you know that?”

  “I’ve been told so by my brother from time to time,” she said, excited that she’d just created a reason to talk about her brother.

  “No, but really, when did you get so honest? And how do you know so much about relationships? I’ve never once seen you with a man, or known you taking time off to go on a date.”

  This time it was Nicole’s turn to squirm.

  She held her phone back up and clicked Reply. “I guess I’ll just tell Cassandra that you’ll be unable to meet with her for an indefinite amount of time then, shall I?”

  “You’re deflecting.”

  “Yep,” she said, her fingers tapping out the message that would continue to break Cassandra’s heart, wherever she was. Nicole hated being the bearer of bad news, at least in this realm. At least in law there were reasons to back up one’s case. Just because my boss doesn’t feel like it anymore didn’t ring as true as something she could look up in a book to use for leverage.

  She finished typing out her email and tapped Send, looking out the window to avoid talking about relationships anymore.

  Nicole had dated in the past, of course. She’d had a wonderful college boyfriend who had landed a job in New York just as she was offered hers in Seattle. The break up was amicable, if sad. It was one of the reasons she deeply abhorred silence. There were too many things to think about, and taking a break allowed for that to happen. Even now, as they drove through the beautiful countryside, she was already allowing those thoughts to invade.

  She glanced over to Bahir, who had taken her cue and hopped back onto his phone to follow up on more emails. What did he think about in his own free time? Probably just work, she thought wryly, gazing back out the window as a small fishing village appeared ahead. The waters were crystal clear, little boats dancing along the waves as fishermen made their daily catches. It was so peaceful compared to the hustle and bustle of the city.

  The limo squeezed between cars on winding country roads until it pulled over by the docks and Bahir looked up from his phone.

  “Ah, we’re here!” he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up.

  It was a whole other side to Bahir that Nicole had only ever caught glimpses of. This was going to be one interesting day.

  The driver opened the door, and Nicole slid out, breathing in the scent of sea air and fresh fish. It was a salty combination, but one she found she enjoyed. It reminded her of the pier back home.

  Bahir slid out after her and stretched his arms high into the air, some of his tanned, flat stomach peeking out from his raised shirt.

  Nicole looked away, not wanting to gawk.

  “Let’s go check out the sights!” Bahir said, striding off down the dock without waiting for Nicole to catch up. She was used to this, of course. He did it every time he left a meeting or decided he had something more important to do than whatever he was working on at the moment. She caught up to him easily, falling in stride by his side.

  The bay was bustling with fishermen and townsfolk buying their wares. Most of the people seemed not to notice them, but they had only been walking for a few minutes when an older woman bustled up to Bahir and grasped his hand, speaking to him in rapid Arabic.

  Nicole watched as he smiled warmly at the woman, placing his other hand around hers, and speaking to her in his native language. It was fascinating to watch. Nicole had heard Bahir speak Arabic a few times before, but generally he tended to conduct business only in English.

  He turned to Nicole and in English, he said, “This is my associate, Nicole Calvert. Nicole, this fine woman is Akilah. She owns a little restaurant not far from here that my family and I used to frequent when I was a child.”

  Nicole waved, and the woman smiled.

  “Hello,” Nicole said.

  “It is a pleasure to meet anyone who is a friend of the Sheikh. Please, you would honor me by coming to the restaurant and having a bite. The food is just as delicious as you will remember, I am certain! My husband is still the chef,” she said with a wide grin. She was missing a few teeth, and her skin was deeply wrinkled with old age, but her youthful exuberance shone through.

  As if on cue, Nicole’s stomach rumbled at the thought of food. Her face turned bright red, and there was a pause as she glanced from Bahir to Akilah, then the two of them burst out laughing.

  The woman gestured for them to follow her. “You have already answered my question. Come, follow me. Don’t get lost in the crowd!”

  Bahir turned back to look at Nicole with a glint of humor shining in his eyes. He was way more handsome like this, she thought, when he was relaxed and having fun.

  Nicole found herself seeing Bahir in a totally different light, and tried to remember that he was her boss, and that this was only a snapshot in time. The next day he would likely be right back to business as usual.

  He held out his hand for her to take. “No getting lost,” he said, his gaze full of challenge.

  Was it appropriate to hold the hand of her employer? Glancing down at his outstretched hand, Nicole found that in that moment she really didn’t care. Let tomorrow come when it came, and today would be a fond memory she could hold onto when the work got overwhelming once again.

  She placed her hand in his, and felt a small shock of electricity shoot straight to her heart.

  Bahir didn’t seem to notice. He grasped her hand and led her through the busy streets, trying to keep an eye on Akilah as she pressed on toward a small white building off the main road.

  The restaurant was filled with locals, though it didn’t feel crowded; just comfortable. Akilah led them to a table near a corner and gestured for them to sit down.

  “Sit, sit! I will bring you some bread and oil while Abdul cooks you up some of our best delicacies!”

  A young woman in a purple hijab approached the table with some glasses of water.

  “Bahir, this is my daughter, Farah. She is very pretty, yes?” Akilah said.

  The girl blushed as she peered at Bahir from beneath lowered lashes, and he gave her his most debonair smile.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Farah,” he said, accepting a glass from her.

  The girl set down Nicole’s glass with a curious stare before returning all her attention back to Bahir.

  This was another thing Nicole had gotten used to. One didn’t spend time in the company of an eligible bachelor and not get accustomed to being completely ignored at every turn. That was just part of the job description.

  Akilah spent another minute praising her daughter before they both left the table. Farah returned shortly after with a basket of bread and a shy smile for Bahir.

  “Do you ever get used to it?” Nicole asked, tearing off a piece of warm flatbread and dipping it in oil before taking a bite.

  Akilah was right. The food was delicious. Of course, the fact that Nicole was starving and rarely ate an actual meal could have also contributed to that fact.

  Bahir looked at her, taking his own piece of bread. “Used to what?” he asked, tucking in.

  Nicole blinked, trying not to get lost as she gazed at him. “The adoring public. Being treated like a god everywhere you go.”

  Bahir scoffed, taking another bite and swallowing. “I am not treated like a god. People are simply nice to me. They always have been.”

  “Are you really so naïve as to think that it’s because people are inherently kind?”

  “What, you think people are inherently evil?” he countered.

  Nicole frowned. “I think people are born with the capacity to be good or evil, and each person makes that cho
ice over and over again as they age. Saying that, I don’t think you see how much better you are treated than the general public.”

  Bahir shrugged. “Well, I’m not the general public, am I? I was born into privilege and with that comes a certain level of treatment. That is not my fault, and I think that in turn I am kind to those around me, wouldn’t you agree?”

  Nicole thought about that for a moment. It was true that while Bahir was generally treated better because of his good looks and status, he had never really taken advantage of the fact. He hadn’t let it get to his head so much that he treated others poorly, knowing that they had to be nice to him either way. In spite of being born into wealth and building an empire, Bahir wasn’t a snob.

  “How did you manage it?” she asked, unable to resist prying a little.

  “What, being kind? Not everyone who comes from money is a jerk, Nicole. Now who’s the snob?”

  “Just speaking from my own experience,” she said, tearing off another mouthful of bread.

  It was nice getting to know Bahir—the real Bahir, behind the businessman—and she found herself greedy to know more. Before she could ask another question, however, Farah and Akilah were back with plates full of hot, fragrant food.

  “You will love this, I assure you,” Akilah said with a big smile. She patted her daughter on the shoulder before they left Bahir and Nicole to eat again, and Nicole tried her best to be as delicate as possible as she scarfed down the best meal she’d had in months.

  “You think I should ask Farah out?” Bahir asked, wiggling his eyebrows, and Nicole laughed.

  “I think that would be cruel of you. Leave the poor girl alone—you have no intention of giving her the love she deserves.”

  “You don’t know that,” Bahir said with a furrowed brow.

  “Don’t I? You said earlier that no one can take the place of work in your heart.”

  “You’re putting words in my mouth, Nicole. I said that I wish I could meet a woman who could accept my lifestyle.”

  “Yes, but your lifestyle includes all of your free time. At first a woman might be able to accept that—seeing you sparingly, living her own life of luxury while you spend your days and nights at the office. But that would fade in time. A woman wants to be loved. She wants the one thing a man can give that doesn’t cost a thing: his time. She wants to know that she is worth more than the fame, the glory and the empire.”

  “Really? Because in my experience a woman wants money, and that’s the end of it.”

  “You can’t mean that. What about your mother?” Nicole asked.

  Bahir’s laugh was brittle. “My mother cared more about our estate than she did about my father. As she stood over his cold body, all she could think about was maintaining her lifestyle.”

  “Not all women are like that, Bahir,” Nicole said flatly.

  “How do you know?” he shot back.

  “Because I’m not from your world. I know what it’s like to value things beyond the material, and to take advantage of them when they are there. I’ve seen what toll it takes on someone to have their world stripped away.”

  Bahir stared at her for a moment. “What happened?”

  Nicole stared at the table, not wanting to answer. Still, her little outburst deserved an explanation, and Bahir’s eyes were open and free of judgement.

  “When I was seven, my parents’ house burned down. It was a kitchen fire that I started. We lost everything because of me. My brother was blind. We had to drag him out of the house because he couldn’t find his own way. In one day everything was taken from me—my possessions, my parents’ trust, a life free of guilt. One stupid mistake and it was all gone.”