Instead, he got startled glances from the businessmen—some excused themselves with the protest this was an evening off, others just glanced at Khalid and walked away, and some frowned and told Casey a blunt, “No comment.”
Grabbing Casey’s hand, he pulled her over to one of the refreshment tables—one laden with sparkling water and a punch bowl. “This would be wonderful if you were doing all of this within my father’s hearing.” He handed her a glass of punch.
She took it and put it down again. “I’m not a pretend reporter. That’s my profession. This is what I do.”
“You are doing an excellent job at making our American business partners uncomfortable.”
“It’s our now—not your father’s. I was honest with you when I said I was here to get a story.”
Khalid let out a long breath. “And I was honest with you when I said I would arrange interviews—but now and here is not the place.” Her mouth pulled down, and he noticed then the stubborn tilt to her jaw. He took her hand and stepped closer. “Please, can you not just be a woman tonight?”
The corners of her mouth twitched. “That line work for you before?”
He let go of her hand. “That was not a line.”
“It sounded like one to me. But I’ll make you a deal—no more questions tonight, but you guarantee me either an interview with your father or with Fadiyah tomorrow.”
He shook his head. “Tomorrow I can guarantee you a date for such a thing. Will that please you.”
She stuck out her hand. “Deal.”
He took her hand as if to shake it, but then turned her hand over and kissed the inside of her wrist. “Deal. Now let us see if you can enjoy this evening and stop threatening disaster. I am hoping our American partners will be more forgiving if you now become charming.”
“Can I still ask the hard question if your father is around?”
Khalid had to grin. “You never give up, do you?”
She glanced up at him. “It’s one of the things you admire about me.”
They spent the next two hours mingling. While a few men found reasons to be other places when they approached, Casey turned on the smiles and changed her questions to casual ones. “Do you find it challenging to work with international companies? Is language a barrier to making deals? What do you think of the lobster and the smoked salmon?” It worked.
She charmed the men, swapped recipes with the few women attending the event, smoothing over most of the feathers she had ruffled. It was sad that he could not turn her loose as a reporter—that would have ended his father’s marriage plans, but it also would have ended too many business relationships. He could not endanger his country’s economy in such a fashion. Besides, if he was to get Casey her interview, he needed his father pleased, and it seemed he had at least accomplished that much.
When he noticed Casey’s smile beginning to sag and her shoulders starting to droop, he asked, “Are you ready to leave?”
“More than” she told him. She lifted her skirt and headed for the stairs that led to her apartment, but Khalid caught her elbow and moved with her toward the front doors. “Not that way—this way, for I have a better idea of how we may spend the rest of the night.”
5
Casey braced herself. She’d been doing research most of the day, digging into Khalid’s past—or at least everything the tabloids had written on him. He was by all accounts the playboy Sheikh, the man no woman could resist and a man who loved life. She’d known most of it, but she hadn’t really dug into the details. No wonder his father wanted him married—Khalid looked to be on a path to becoming a permanent bachelor. Not that he didn’t have his good side.
Khalid donated and supported several charities—he never turned down an invitation to one of their events, which was great for fundraising, and probably for partying. But all those headlines had left Casey wary. What had she gotten herself into here?
And just what was he proposing now? Nightclubs? Running off to some hotel for a night of…of what? Her heart thudded into her ribs, her breath shortened and she didn’t know if she wanted to find an excuse or an excuse to go with him. Her Midwestern side was coming out full force—she was in over her head with this guy. Stammering out the words and pulling back, she told him, “Khalid, I’m a little tired. Whatever bright idea you have, can it wait until tomorrow?”
“Just trust me,” Khalid insisted, pulling her with him. He flashed a smile and she tried to relax, but that smile would lure any woman to her doom. “Hurry before we’re spotted and delayed.”
He got her outside the front doors, paused there and waved at one of the staff nearby—wasn’t there always someone standing around here at the palace, just waiting for orders. She had no idea what time it was, but the moon was still up and the night had just started to cool. Stars glittered overhead in a way she hadn’t seen in years due to city lights. A limo’s engine rumbled to life and headlights flipped on. Rubbing her arms, she asked, “Where are you taking me?”
“You’ll see.” His grin lit the night—all white teeth and charm.
She shook her head. “If this is some—”
His laugh interrupted. The sound shot a warmth through her she wasn’t sure she should be feeling. “Trust me. You will enjoy this.”
She huffed out a breath and muttered, “Question is will I regret it.”
The limo pulled up, a shiny black Mercedes. Someone else came forward to open the car door. Khalid took her hand and led her down the steps.