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

“Tell her that you love her!” Amira snapped.

“I tried,” Khalid snarled at her. “I tried to tell her that there was something there, but she won’t listen to me. I waited too long, and now it’s too late.”

“Excellent. You’re an idiot. She’s an idiot. I don’t know why I even bother,” Amira complained as she threw her hands up in the air.

Their father cleared his throat. “Amira, Shekinah, can you please give us a minute?”

“Navine,” Shekinah warned with a sharp look.

The older man kissed his wife gently on the cheek. “Don’t worry, darling. I just need a word with Khalid.”

Khalid’s heart seemed to sink to his toes in anticipation. It was bad enough to have them all there, picking apart his life—but to be alone with whatever reproaches his father had in store for him? Infinitely worse.

His mother seemed to share his hesitation. He saw Shekinah search her husband’s face carefully, but then she took Amira’s hand and led her out of the suite.

The best defense was a good offense. Khalid gave his father a withering look. “I’m really not in the mood to talk about the gallery.”

“Too bad.” Navine crossed the suite toward the bar and opened the cabinet.

Khalid raised an eyebrow. His father had never been a heavy drinker, and it was awfully early in the day for him to start.

Navine poured himself a shot of whiskey and tossed it back. “There is something that I should have said to you a long time ago, Khalid.” He paused, head bowed, and Khalid wondered what he was thinking. No doubt he’d soon find out. And then Navine lifted his head, squared his shoulders, and said, “I was wrong.”

“What?” Khalid was sure that he’d heard wrong. His father didn’t believe in apologies.

“I should never have forced you to take over the gallery.” Navine turned around, and there was sorrow in his eyes. “You were so different from your brothers, so open and carefree. It wasn’t that I didn’t like that about you. I loved it, but I was afraid that you were going to be hurt. I didn’t want you to fail at your artwork, son—but I knew that you’d succeed in business. It’s in your blood.”

Setting the topic of his artwork aside, Khalid took a deep breath. “I don’t hate the gallery,” he admitted. “I just feel strangled under the constant eye of people like Ziva. I want the public to be involved in the gallery. I want a full range of art to showcase, and I want to support the local artist community.”

Navine nodded. “I’m afraid that you’ll lose the support of your donors, and the public won’t be enough to keep the gallery afloat.”

Khalid tilted his head, narrowed his eyes in consideration, and said, “I have no doubt that I’ll lose Ziva’s support, and maybe a few others, but I think the public will more than make up for it.” Nodding, he added, “Katie is actually phenomenal at marketing and curating. She’s got some great ideas.” Just thinking of all the times that he’d stifled her when she’d only been trying to help turned his stomach.

Amira was right. He really was an idiot.

“I feel like I let all three of you down,” Navine said slowly. “I love my wife with every fiber of my being, and I just assumed that love would come as easily to you. I focused too much on raising successful businessmen and the importance of this family’s reputation. As a result, when my sons were faced with love, they couldn’t handle it. I didn’t realize the damage I was doing.” He inhaled sharply. “I should have taken more time to show you that love is not a shackle, that passion is strength.”

Khalid closed his eyes and shook his head. “She thinks I’m too cold—incapable of love.”

“So prove to her that you’re not.”

“She won’t listen.”

“So quit talking, Son! You have a week. Use your heart, and show her how you feel.” His father’s next words were astonishing to him. “You’re an artist, Khalid. You used to turn your emotions into beautiful pieces of art. Use that, and don’t let the love of your life slip through your fingers.”

Navine put the empty glass on the counter and walked away.

Khalid stared at the abandoned glass. It was hard for him to admit, but his father was right.

He’d done this all wrong.

Katie didn’t want to hear that he loved her. She needed to see it to believe it.

He had his work cut out for him.

15

Katie was unpacking a few clothes to get her through the week when Sahaar knocked gently on the door.