The Sheikh's Stubborn Assistant (The Sharif Sheikhs 3)

Liyah leaned a little closer to answer in an undertone. “Traditionally, yes. But he likes to sit next to me, and as much as they hate to admit it, Amira has all of her brothers wrapped around her little finger. It’s almost comical to watch them.”

The appetizers were served, an array of meat and veggie kabobs with different sauces. Katie’s eyes widened when she saw how much there was to eat. Amira, no doubt, had thought that her idea of pizza and beer was laughable.

“Katie? My name is Haidar. I’m a collector.” The handsome man across from her smiled charmingly at her as he leaned forward over the table.

Asad snorted. “Collector? More like obsessed. You just have to have the most expensive things.”

“Ignore him,” Haidar said easily. “What’s your interest in Dubai’s art scene?”

“I’m looking for a job, actually. I’ve studied art history for the past six years. I’m most interested in Egyptian and Asian culture, but I can curate contemporary collections, as well.” Although she desperately wanted to glance at Khalid, she kept her focus trained on the older man in front of her. He wasn’t being shy about hiding the lust in his face, but she didn’t want to cause any problems at Amira’s dinner.

“If you like Egyptian culture, I have several intact fertility statues from the Fourth Dynasty. I’d be more than happy to give you a personal tour.” The man’s gaze moved to her chest, and Katie narrowed her eyes.

“I’d like a tour as well,” Asad said suddenly, and his tone carried a clear warning.

Surprised, Katie turned her head. Liyah reached over, squeezed her hand, and winked.

The conversation died down instantly until someone else laughed and said, “Don’t mind him, Katie, darling. Haidar thinks his art collection is an aphrodisiac. In truth, most of the women that he lures to his palace can’t tell the difference between an ancient fertility statue and those quaint little Hummel figurines. You would be a true prize for him.”

Cracking a smile, Katie leaned back in her chair and picked up her glass of wine. “The size difference alone would be telling.”

The new speaker roared with laughter. At last, he added, “I’m Qasim. Much like Haidar, I’m far too rich to actually work for an art gallery, but my uncle owns a relatively well-known gallery in Qatar. I’d be happy to make a call. Any friend of Amira’s is a friend of mine.” He raised his eyebrows knowingly as he picked up Amira’s hand and kissed it.

She rolled her eyes dramatically, and the whole table laughed. Apparently, Katie was missing out on the joke.

“Why art history? Do you find yourself at home with beautiful things?” Haidar asked.

Katie cleared her throat. “Art is human emotion materialized. It’s a portal into history as well as preservation in contemporary issues. Art galleries are notorious for turning these beautiful pieces of history into dollar signs.”

“Of course,” Qasim interrupted. “Art is a luxury business.”

Katie snorted. “It’s a luxury business because of the gallery owners. You control what are considered masterpieces. You put bogus price tags on these pieces and then plant people to drive up prices in auctions, and you only sell to the most exclusive collectors to give the illusion that art is out of reach of the average art lover. It’s an old tradition, and it’s one that I can certainly never change. That’s why I got into curation. I like to bring history back to art. Bring humanity back to the art. Make it tangible again.”

“Interesting,” Amira said, leaning forward. “Khalid was having the same conversation with our father, not too long ago. What was it that you said you wanted, Khalid? More diversity in your gallery?”

Unable to help herself, Katie turned her head and stared at Khalid. His face was unreadable, but his gaze was trained on her. “I think there is something to be said about using some of our expansive space to showcase up-and-coming artists. Art is for the people, and I believe in supporting the city.”

The surprise must have shown on her face, for his expression hardened.

She cleared her throat. “I think that’s admirable.”

“Admirable, sure, but he’s doing more damage to the art world by making it so inclusive. Make it more attainable, and everyone will lose interest. We all want what we can’t have,” Haidar said in a husky voice.

“Then you must want everything,” Amira joked. She immediately changed the subject as dinner was served, and Katie fell silent while she continued to observe.

Despite Liyah’s engaging personality, it was obvious that the young woman still felt a little out of her element. It was sweet when Asad casually touched her—a comforting squeeze of her leg, or draping his arm over her shoulder. It was possessive and loving at the same time. Though Liyah was a natural beauty, no one at the table looked twice at her. It was obvious that no one dared challenge Asad.

They were not shy about their attentions to Amira, but it was obvious that the woman could take care of herself. Meanwhile, more than a couple of the men openly stared at Katie, and some flirted lightly with her. No one pushed her, though, and most of them looked nervously at Khalid as if to ascertain his reaction.

Katie wasn’t used to drinking, and after a couple glasses of wine, her head started to spin. She excused herself after dinner to go get some fresh air.

Stepping out onto the balcony, she marveled at the beauty of the city below.

“Amira’s friends can only be taken in small doses.”

Katie whirled around, and her breath caught in her throat when she saw who had followed her out.

Khalid kept his eyes on the cityscape as he pulled out a cigar and lit it.