Sheikh's Scandalous Mistress Read Free Page B

these this month, and we both know I’m not going to tell you anything you can’t get from the press release or that hasn’t already been said by my press agent.”
    “Exactly, so if you would just give me whatever spiel you need out there, then I’ll be happily back to my room.”
    “Oh, so you’re staying here?”
    “I’m sure I’m not the only reporter here who’s being spoiled,” she said, tilting that chin of hers back up at him. “You’re sparing no expense to wine and dine potential critics and naysayers. Are you nervous about the speculation? The thoughts that tourism to Abu Dhabi doesn’t merit a spectacle like you’ve created?”
    He stopped sauntering and leaned back against his desk. “That’s not the usual question someone from this beat would ask.”
    “Maybe they want to, but all of them are too scared and keep kissing your ring,” she said, her chin jutting up sharply.
    Her blue eyes sparkled with intensity, and he wanted nothing more than to sweep everything off of his desk and have his way with her. At least she’d be more rewarding for him, help him ease off more tension that Svetlana had. He was on edge; that was all. If Svetlana had been up to her reputation, then he wouldn’t be taking a second look at this plump reporter.
    “Then tell me more. What do you actually think about the casino and resort?”
    “I just flew in yesterday. So far, I do find the pool the best spot. It’s hot as hell out here, and I don’t have any patience for it. I think there’s sand in every crevice of my body and definitely in my mouth. I don’t think I was ready for Abu Dhabi at all. I used to think that one family vacation I had once in Texas was too much. This is like trying to murder me in a sand sauna.”
    “Alright, so the pool’s a hit. You don’t care for the rest?”
    “I haven’t had time to window shop with designer labels or see shoes I can’t possibly afford. I also am not a huge sushi fan.”
    “We have traditional Middle Eastern and French dishes as well. These are all Michelin chefs who are beyond amazing,” he countered.
    “Yes, and yet you named it Ali Babba’s. That’s beyond cheesy,” she objected, wrinkling her nose up in a way that was equally annoying and adorable.
    “To be fair,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest, “my PR department decided that naming it something that could be a nod to tales that Americans and other Westerners would know would help with tourism. You’d be surprised how hard it is to get Westerners out here, even though we’re a completely safe area.”
    “Well, most Westerners can’t tell Dubai from Abu Dhabi if you held a gun to their heads,” she admitted. “But this is completely off the record. You have to admit that it’s a terrible name.”
    He nodded, rejoicing in her candor. It was so rare for even the press to be forthright with him. “I wasn’t in love with it. I wanted to name it after my little sister, but the focus groups were against it.”
    “I didn’t know you had a sister. The briefing materials didn’t list anything on that, and neither did my online research.”
    “Well,” he said. “I suppose you don’t know everything then, Miss Sinclair. I was a twin, but she died of a fever when we were seven. As for the name, I went with what I thought would sell because the old axiom isn’t wrong. Everyone has a price.”
    She frowned, and for the first time, something besides hardened skepticism glinted in those blue eyes of hers. Maybe it was understanding; he just hoped it wasn’t pity. He never should have said as much, but he’d always loathed himself for letting go on that one point. He shouldn’t have budged on the name.
    “You shouldn’t have sold out on that one thing. It’s a sweet gesture, and frankly, it would have made a great story.”
    “I wanted to honor Farana, but maybe it’s for the best. I don’t know if I have the strength to explain about her to everyone. Perhaps I should,