The Sheikh's Convenient Bride

“My car will come for you at seven,” he said, refusing to be side-tracked.

Her smile was deadly sweet. “You car will stand at the curb and turn to rust before I set foot inside it.”

“We have an agreement,” he said grimly.

“You already said that. To hell with your agreement! Why any woman would be fool enough to do anything you say—”

“Is that who you are now? A woman?”

Megan cocked her head and looked at him through narrowed eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I just like to know who I’m dealing with, that’s all. You’ve just said a woman would be a fool to do anything I say.”

“She would be.”

“A while ago, you made the point that you weren’t a woman at all.”

“Don’t be ridiculous! I never said—’’

“You claim to be a professional. A person whose only identity lies in those initials after her name. B.A. M.B.A. C.P.A.”

“You left out C.F.P.,” Megan said coldly. “Certified Financial Planner. And if you’re trying to make a point, I can’t figure out what it is.”

“My point is that you take refuge in the identity that suits you at a given moment.”

“You make me sound schizophrenic!”

“Do I?” Caz folded his arms. “When I met you this morning, you made a case for being judged by your ability, not your gender.”

“Something you’re incapable of, apparently.”

“Are you suggesting what happened just now wasn’t mutual?”

She felt herself turn color, but she kept her eyes on his. “I’m not going with you, Sheikh Qasim. That’s final.”

“You’re making something out of nothing. Wh

at happened was a mistake.”

“It certainly was. And it could never, ever, not in a million years, happen again.”

“Another point of agreement. Which is why you’re going with me tomorrow.”

“I’d sooner—’’

“Swing through the trees with Tarzan. Yes, I know, but then, you don’t have a contract with Tarzan.”

“I don’t have one with you, either,” Megan said, but even in her anger, she knew what he was getting at.

“You do. A verbal contract, enforceable in any court of law.” He fleshed that I-Am-Brilliant smile that made her fingers itch to slap it from his face. “I’m sure you’re aware of that, Miss O’Connell, considering your familiarity with what constitutes grounds for a lawsuit.”

“You wouldn’t sue.” Megan flashed a smile that she hoped was the equal of his. “You wouldn’t want the publicity.”

“There’s a difference between negative publicity and positive publicity. I’d get lots of excellent mileage out of my heartfelt attempts to hire a woman, only to find that woman unwilling to take on the responsibility of a difficult assignment.”

“Your people wouldn’t like to hear that you’d tried to hire a woman.”

“My people will believe what I tell them, and I’ll tell them that the press lies.”