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

His pieces were arriving tomorrow, and his usual appraiser was out of town. He didn’t want to wait for the man to return to get the pieces appraised for the collection, but he was having trouble finding someone he trusted. “Okay, then.”

“Okay, then.”

As she walked away, he lifted his gaze and stared after her. The strange rift between them needed to come to an end soon. He was tired of satisfying himself with just the memories of her. He needed her again—and soon.

Tonight.

Amira, who had returned only last night from a trip of her own—she’d been away in London with their parents for the opening of some show, or was it a charity gala with the young royals?—was waiting for him in his suite when he returned home to change. “How was your weekend with Katie?” she asked immediately as he stripped off his tie.

“Go away,” he growled. “I’m tired, and I want a drink before dinner.”

“I heard the Batuk collection is rather eye-opening. When do I get a chance to look?”

“If Father has his way, never.” Amira might enjoy the attention of men, but Khalid knew that his sister was still innocent. It had nothing to do with his father’s strict demands or even her religion. He knew that Amira had high standards when it came to men, and she hadn’t found anyone that she thought might satisfy her.

She perched on the table and examined her gold manicured fingernails. “I was thinking of getting some girls together and hosting a private party once it’s on display. I bet we’ll find it educational. Katie, especially. She really knows how to appreciate fine art.”

Khalid rolled his eyes. She was trying to bait him. He stripped off his shirt and reached for a clean green button-up. “You are not having a chick party in my gallery.”

Amira didn’t miss a beat. “I had lunch with Katie today,” she said, elaborately casual. “I tried talking to her about the weekend, but she just said that she enjoyed meeting Batuk and observing his collection. I can’t imagine that anyone actually enjoys meeting that man. Is she okay?”

“She’s fine.” He buttoned up his shirt and turned to face her. “Amira, I am her boss. I’m not privy to her personal thoughts and life. That’s what her friends are for, and I do not appreciate you using me to get more information about her.”

Her eyes grew cold. “Maybe I’m just worried that you did something to hurt her.”

His body stilled. It hadn’t even occurred to him that Katie might be hurting. “I don’t know how. All I did was give her an opportunity to learn more about acquisitions,” he lied.

“Good.” Amira hopped down from the table. “You’re not like Asad and Rashid. They may have been against love in the beginning, but they were made to love. You’re not quite there, yet.”

What the hell did that mean? He stared after his sister as she left his suite. This whole time, he’d been assuming that Amira had been trying to set him up with Katie, but maybe he was wrong.

Maybe his sister didn’t think that he was good enough for Katie.

Suddenly, she stuck her head back in at the door. “I forgot to ask—has she mentioned any of the guys from our dinner party that she met? I think she might be lonely, and I’m trying to set her up.”

“No,” he snapped.

Amira blinked. “No, she hasn’t mentioned anyone?”

“No, she’s not lonely. Why don’t you quit meddling in other people’s business and just let things be?”

Her face fell. “Why are you so angry?”

“I’m not!” He yanked at the buttons on his sleeves.

He felt like an ass. First he was upsetting Katie, and now he was attacking his sister. “I’m just hungry. I’m sorry, Amira. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Straightening, she walked back in and gently buttoned the sleeves on his shirt. “Are you okay, Khalid?” Her eyes darkening with concern, she added, “You seem colder than usual. I say that with love. I just worry about you. I thought . . . never mind.”

“You thought what?” He kept his voice gentle so he wouldn’t upset her again.

“This past month, you’ve seemed happier. I thought that maybe you’d met someone, but I didn’t want to pry.”

She finished, and he dropped his arms to his sides. “It’s like you said, Amira. I’m not built for that.”

“I didn’t say that. I said that you weren’t there, yet.”

“Right.” He smiled tightly. “Come on. Let’s go downstairs so you can fuss over the dinner.”