Sheikh's Command Read Free Page B

wins. Compromises were made, agreements were reached, and some things were simply left.
    This was an uncomplicated, unarguable win, and he and several of the other personnel were determined to celebrate.
    The club flashed red and gold lights, and the women surrounding him were eager to get his attention, even if they didn't know who he was. He grinned at a tall blonde who was running her fingers through his hair, and smiled at a sultry brunette who eyed him as if he was something good to eat. It had been a while since he had taken a lover. He wondered if his next woman was here tonight.
    Unbidden, his mind conjured up a small woman, almost a girl, with dark hair and eyes that seemed to see right into his soul. He had called her a bird, and indeed, she had taken wing. Why did he still think of her? He tried to shake the thought of her off, but it was too late. A pall came over the proceedings, and he shook off the women to stalk to the bar.
    He was halfway there when his phone rang. After the initial moment of confusion, he veered towards the outside porch area, which was blessedly empty. The caller was only a number, no one who had called him before, and when he answered the phone, he was cautious.
    “Who are you?”
    The words were strange, but the voice was automatically familiar. “Olivia,” he said, his voice brightening without his will. Just a few moments ago, he thought that he would never hear from her again. To hear her voice after that was like balm on burned skin.
    “Yes …” She suddenly sounded unsure. “I mean … you remember me? The girl from today, with the violin?”
    Makeen chuckled softly. “I am not in the habit of forgetting beautiful women who play the violin as if they sold their souls to the devil,” he said. “You used my number.”
    “I did … Makeen … I need you to tell me who you are.”
    That caused him to raise an eyebrow. “That's a strange question. I am the man you met today. I bought you lunch.”
    “You are dodging the question,” she said, her voice impressively stern. “That cop backed off of you. You weren't scared of him at all. I have lived all over Europe and the Middle East, and I know that means something. Now tell me, who are you? ”
    When she spoke like that, there was nothing in his mind that could deny her. “I am Sheikh Makeen al-Hamidiya of Zahar,” he said, standing a little straighter. That was more than a title. It was his true self. He had only shown a portion of himself to her earlier that day, and perhaps that had been deceptive. He would make up for it now.
    Makeen heard her pull her breath in and then release it slowly.
    “Oh my God,” she said quietly. He wondered for a moment if he could hear tears in her voice.
    “Olivia? Olivia, what is it?”
    “Can you … will you meet me? Please?”
    “Of course,” he said instantly. Later that night, he would wonder at his eagerness, at the complete lack of doubt he had when she asked him that question.
    “Tonight,” she said, and she named a café that was halfway across the city.
    “I can be there in an hour,” he said, already moving towards his car. “Only, Olivia, are you safe?”
    Her response was a laugh that was a little wild. It sent shivers up his spine. His mother would have said that it was a premonition of change. Things were shifting around him, and there was no way to tell where they would end up.
    “I want to be,” she said, and she hung up.
    ***
    Olivia had never been a woman who wanted frilly, lacy things. She had always thought that they were foolish, a waste of time and energy. Now, though, as she was getting ready to go to meet the man she had met that afternoon—the sheikh!—she felt a deep despair coming over her.
    She rummaged through her scanty closet, dismissing outfit after outfit. Finally, she came up with a simple black dress, one that she had purchased from a used clothes vendor in the bazaar. It was long, falling almost to the tops of her feet, but the neckline