The Sheikh's Stubborn Lover (The Adjalane Sheikhs 2)

“Fair? That depends on your point of view, doesn’t it? So are we talking some kind of contest? You win if you get the land? Your father will have what he wanted and he’ll think you’re the guy to run the company?”

Adilan pressed his lips tight and shook his head. “There is more at stake than that. I desire—as does my father—to leave Al-Hilah just as it is. My brother would rather we exploit the fresh water source and turn Al-Hilah into an upscale luxury resort for the wealthy.”

She sipped her water and turned to stare outside the car window. When she looked at him again, she asked, “What happens if neither you nor your brother gets Al-Hilah back?”

Adilan lifted a hand and let it drop. “Then my father will be unhappy. Perhaps he will look outside the family for the next CEO of Adjalane Real Estate and Land Development Group. My offer to buy you out stands.”

She shook her head. “Al-Hilah is worth a lot more than what you’re offering and you know it.”

He grinned. “Very well. How about I double the offer?”

Michelle choked on her water. He leaned closer to thump her on the back, but she held up a hand to block him. However, he left his hand resting on her back.

She shifted and eased away from him. “I can’t…I…it’s not my place to sell.”

Adilan said nothing for a moment. He thought about all she had said and at last gave a nod. “Your mother?”

Twisting the cap back on her water, she stared at it. “Family. Seems we both have issues with our parents. I…my mother’s been in a wheelchair for three years, but the one thing keeping her going with rehab and therapy is the idea that she’s going to return to Al-Sarid. To that oasis. If I sell Al-Hilah…” She glanced at him. “Well, I don’t think she’d turn up her toes and die, but she’d probably never speak to me again.”

He nodded. “Yes, I, too, will face a very unhappy parent if I do not succeed. But what Malid plans—I cannot let him get away with cheating you or ruining that oasis. We will stop by my bank in the city.”

The plastic bottle squeaked and crunched as she gripped it tight. He took it from her hands. His fingers brushed over hers—they seemed cold to him. Stiff. He wanted to take her hand in his and ease then into warmth. But she was staring at him, her eyes darkening. “Why would you do this?”

Adilan smiled. He wanted to lighten the mood between them. He wanted not to talk of their disappointed parents. It was a lovely day, and he was with a lovely woman. He touched the back of her hand with one finger. “There are conditions.”

Michelle rolled her eyes. “Of course there are.” She pulled her hand away and took back her bottle of water. “Let’s get this over with—what are they?”

She gasped when he set one hands on the tops of her thigh. She jerked in reaction, but when he tightened his fingers, she froze in place. “My conditions are that I will loan you the money you need. That will give you time to transfer the funds. In exchange, I wish you to consider a trade— Al-Hilah in exchange for another piece of land on which you may build. That would give my father what he wants, your mother a reason still to come to Al-Sarid, and it will put a smile back on your gorgeous face.”

Michelle’s face reddened and she stammered, “You think I’m gorgeous? No…forget I asked that. I don’t know about any kind of trade.”

Adilan leaned closer. “I only ask you to consider this? Come, we will stop by my bank, pay the taxes, and I will show you the property I have in mind. Then you can make up your mind.”

Frowning, she squeezed her water again, but she didn’t move away from his touch. “Why do I have the feeling you could sell ice to an Eskimo?”

He laughed. “I promise not to offer you a slightly used camel. However, I will ask you to ride one.”

Her eyes widened. “Is that possible? You’re kidding me—people still ride camels across the desert? What do you…well, I don’t know…rent camels?”

He laughed outright at the way her mind worked and sat back. “You could, but it is much easier to simply own several dozen.” Her mouth fell open. He touched a finger to her cheek. “Oh my little American. There are many places in the desert where a vehicle cannot go. Too many miles with no fuel stations and the sand is too deep. So deep in fact, that people have lost their vehicles to the shifting sands in a matter of minutes. But for now we must deal with the shifting sands of red tape.”

Leaning forward, Adilan gave directions to the driver to get to his bank. It took no time at all to put a cashier’s check in Michelle’s hands. Her eyes widened again and her fingers shook slightly. She stared up at him with such wonder in her eyes that he wanted to lean down and kiss her. Instead, he took her to the government office to get her taxes paid.

The officials seemed ready to block any effort to pay the taxes and fines. Eyes shifted away when he asked for Mr. Massad, the head of the department. As soon as Adilan gave his name, the clerk softened, Mr. Massad was called and very quickly the paperwork was done.

Now Adilan would show her the land he hoped she would take in trade, and they would have lunch. As Michelle paid the taxes and fines, he called ahead to arrange for a tent to be set up on the property. Another call and caterers would see to it that roast lamb, honey and dates, and other dishes would be ready for them.

And if he could not talk her into selling Al-Hilah or trading it, well, there were other ways to persuade a beautiful woman.

Chapter 7

The town car took them back to Adjalane Palace, with a stop first at Michelle’s hotel. But not the hotel she had planned on staying at. Adjalane Towers boasted a first class hotel, and while Michelle protested about having already booked a room at the Marriot, Adilan wouldn’t hear of her staying anywhere else.

Her protests died when she saw the view from the room—a first floor balcony overlooking the ocean. This was far better than the inland Marriot. Adilan arranged for her luggage to be brought over, had the hotel staff bring up clothing for her to change into—khaki pants, a loose white shirt, and sensible boots that tied at the ankle. She started more protests over his high-handed outfitting of her, but she was quickly learning that Adilan listened to her and then simply gave her a dozen reasons why his plans where so much better.

“Do you have clothes suitable for the desert?” he asked. She started to explain that jeans would work fine, but he held up a hand and kept talking. “You need something light, so your skin can breathe. Something that will protect you from the heat and sun. This is why most women wear the abaya—it is a practical garment. But, I will not insist you veil yourself. But a hat, yes, I think that is a good idea, too.”

She gave up on the protests. Hell, the man had just loaned her eighty thousand—she’d be more than rude to throw his generosity back at him. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling she was being set up to agree to this land swap. She tried to tell herself she wasn’t a push over, but Adilan was hard to resist.