The Sheikh's Pretend Fiancée (The Sharif Sheikhs 1)

The rest of the car ride was silent, but it wasn’t nearly long enough to allow her to collect her thoughts. When the car parked, Ori ushered her out, and then an employee of the restaurant escorted her in. Everyone seemed to be in a hurry, as though keeping Asad waiting was a terrible idea.

The restaurant was covered in gorgeous woodwork with a beautiful seating area, but she was escorted to a dark corner of the restaurant. Asad and Amira were seated by a window, but the shades were pulled down, and the table was protected from prying eyes by a screen of large potted plants.

Asad and Amira were both wearing sunglasses and dressed casually, but they both carried the same air of authority. Anyone walking by would know that they were important.

Feeling a little bit like a toy being passed around, Liyah was feeling somewhat grumpy as the hostess pulled out her chair, and she finally sat down. “I was summoned?” she asked dryly.

To her surprise, Amira burst out laughing. “This is who you chose?” she cried out as she wiped a tear away. “Oh, this is going to go swimmingly.”

Chose? What on earth was going on?

Asad ignored his sister and pushed a menu Liyah’s way. “I apologize for the abrupt summons, but it was imperative that I speak with you today. Why don’t you order lunch, and we can get down to business.”

“I already ate lunch. What kind of business?” Hope rose within her. Did he have a job for her?

“Perhaps a drink, then?”

Amira rolled her eyes and tapped her fingers impatiently on the table. “Stop putting this off,” she mumbled. “The woman is clearly more interested in why she’s here—and not interested in the menu.” She shook her head. “I must apologize for my brother, but he is a typical man. They never have any finesse.”

“I really don’t understand why you’re here,” Asad sighed as he gave his sister a disapproving look. “I could have done this without you.”

“This was my idea,” Amira protested. “I should have a hand in it. Choosing the American? Fascinating.”

Liyah had had enough of their banter, and she waved her hand. “Hello? The American is sitting right here, and not only does she have a name, but she’d like to know what she’s doing here.”

“Beautiful, smart, and independent,” Asad murmured. “And you wonder why I chose her.”

Flattery. This wasn’t the typical job interview. He was wooing her, in his own strange way.

“Chose me for what?”

He picked up his glass of red wine and swirled it around. After taking a sip, he finally nodded his head. “I have a position available that I think you’d be perfect for. As I explained the other night, I’m working on expanding a set of condos, and I’m still negotiating the terms with investors. Unfortunately, things are not going well.”

Liyah felt her hopes deflate. “I’m not sure what impression you got that night, but I’m a literature student. I’m not a business major. Short of acting as your assistant, I don’t think I’d be much help—and besides, I’m sure you already have one of those.”

“You’re right. I do not need an assistant, nor do I need a business major. What I need, Liyah, is to show the investors that I’m not the child they remember so fondly. I need to show them that I’m serious about this project, and I need them to view me as a businessman.”

She was even more confused. “You need an image consultant?”

Amira chuckled. “There isn’t a consultant in the world who could do anything with his image.”

Asad locked eyes with Liyah. “I am prepared to pay you handsomely for your services, and I assure you that the job is short-term. Just until I can ensure the job is completed enough that the investors won’t back out.” He reached into his pocket, withdrew a small, folded piece of paper, and slipped it across the table.

She opened it up and felt her whole world come to a standstill. He was offering her an outrageous amount of money. This would pay off her student loans and buy her a lovely home—and a car, to boot. What on earth did he think she could do that would cost him that much money? “I don’t understand,” she whispered as she folded the paper up and pushed it away. “What do you want from me?”

“Not much. I just need you to pretend to be my fiancée.”

4

Not much. I just need you to pretend to be my fiancée.

Liyah had only been able to stare at the man as if he’d grown a second head.

Amira quickly stepped in to explain why the plan would work, and Asad explained why he’d chosen her. They saw Liyah as soft-spoken and unassuming. She wouldn’t create scandals, and most of the investors would quickly lose interest in her after they met her.

That wasn’t insulting at all.

The best she could manage, before she bolted for the street, was a strangled reply that she’d think about it.