The Return of the Sheikh. KRISTI GOLD

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СКАЧАТЬ 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.

      Rafiq had suggested he return at night, yet he’d refused. He might be seriously flawed, but had never been a coward. Whatever he had to endure to fulfill his obligation, he would do so with his head held high and without help.

      He thought back to Madison Foster’s visit two days ago, as well as her intimation that he might be considered a stranger in a familiar land. He’d come close to accepting her offer, but not for those reasons. She’d simply intrigued him. She’d also forced him to realize how long it had been since he’d kept company with a woman. Yet she would have proven to be too great a temptation, and he could not afford even a hint of a scandal. If they only knew the real scandal that had existed within the palace gates, a secret that had plagued him for seven years, and the primary reason why he’d left.

      As the car came to a stop, Zain quickly exited, but he couldn’t ignore the shouts of “Kha’en!” He could not counter the claims he’d been a traitor without revealing truths he had no intention of disclosing.

      Two sentries opened the heavy doors wide, allowing him to evade the crowd’s condemnation for the time being. Yet the hallowed halls of the palace were as cold as the stone that comprised them. At one time he’d been happy to call this place home—a refuge steeped in lavish riches and ancient history. Not anymore. But he did welcome the site of the petite woman standing at the end of the lengthy corridor—Elena Battelli, the Italian au pair hired by his father for his sons, despite serious disapproval from the elders. Elena had been his nursemaid, his teacher, his confidante and eventually his surrogate mother following his own mother’s untimely death. She’d been the only person who understood his ways, including his wanderlust.

      As soon as Zain reached her, Elena opened her arms and smiled. “Welcome back, caro mio.” She spoke to him in English, as she always had with the Mehdi boys, their “code” when they’d wanted to avoid prying ears.

      He drew her into an embrace before stepping back and studying her face. “You are still as elegant as a gazelle, Elena.”

      She patted her neatly coiffed silver hair. “I am an old gazelle, and you are still the charming giovinetto I have always adored.” A melancholy look suddenly crossed her face. “Now that your father has sadly left us, and you are to be king, I СКАЧАТЬ