He pulled his hand down. “I told you you would enjoy this.”
“Okay, you were right,” she said, her voice drifting a little. “Thank you for bringing me here. I didn’t realize I was so stressed.”
“It has been a difficult time for everyone, and will probably be even more so over the next week or more,” Khalid replied.
Leaning her head back, she stared up at the skylight and said, “I suppose, once you really get married, you will take over your father’s business—is that the plan?”
“I’ve been groomed for his position, yes. I will eventually assume his business interests as my own, but my father is in no rush to give up control to me. It is one of the great frustrations.”
She gave a small hum. “He wants you to be responsible, but won’t give you responsibilities. No wonder you lash out. You must have a lot of expectations to live up to that you never asked for.”
He glanced at her. “I did not know you were a psychiatrist as well as a reporter.”
She winced. “Ouch. Okay, maybe I asked for that.” Turning to him, she pulled her arms out of the water and propped her chin on her fists. Her arms proved a distraction—all that smooth, white skin on display. When he realized she had asked him a question, he had to ask her to repeat her words. “I said, what if you ever wanted to do something else? You know—be a pilot. Or…or just open a restaurant or something like that.”
“You Americans.” Khalid shook his head. He turned and faced her, copying her moves so he had his arms out of the water and his chin propped on his hands. “Everyone wants to be a famous actor or a rock musician or something other than what they are meant to be. It’s not like that here. Every son grows up in his father’s shadow. The eldest is expected to learn the family trade. It is just that my family’s business happens to be running a country and looking after affairs of state and an entire country’s economy. Eventually, if all goes well, I may have sons—and I can let one of them become the sultan. Then perhaps I might go into business for myself. That would be a true challenge.”
“And that sounds like something you really want to do. Well, business is one thing I could help you with.”
He lifted an eyebrow and straightened. “What do you know about business? You’re a journalist.”
“And just a woman, too?” Casey said, but she sounded for once as if she was teasing.
He splashed water at her and said, “That’s not what I meant. It’s because of your field. What, did you cover business once upon a time?”
“That’s how I got my start. And my family didn’t just run a shop. My dad owned the best general store in Wisconsin and grew it into a giant mail order business. He also did well enough in stocks to send me to college. My sister, too, if she’d wanted it. He sold out to a larger company and my folks retired to Florida. Over the years, I’ve learned a little.” She winked at him. “Trust me.”
Khalid laughed. “He turned, leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “So, wise sage, what would you advise me?”
“What kind of business were you thinking of going into? Camel exports? Sand castle constructions?”
Opening his eyes, he turned his head and stared at her. “Now you are mocking me. I haven’t thought about something exact, I just have a sense that I could do something different. Everything around me is big—the family palace, the family business. It is all huge oil, banking and the life of my country depends upon large profits. But I…” He trailed off, his face warm.”
“Go on,” she said.
He waved a hand. “I want something that could be mine—something where what I do with my hands matters.” Looking at her, he asked, “Do you think me crazy? The playboy who plays because he cannot do what he wants.”
She sat up and said, “Open a restaurant.”
Khalid laughed. He turned to face her again. “There are so many of those around I wouldn’t stand a chance. And what do I know of food.”
“You know a good time. That’s what people want when they go out. You know how to be gracious. You could…you could make it a place for young people to learn how to be great chefs. Make it a place to showcase your country’s food—but, you might want to leave out the sheep’s head.” She pulled a face.
He shook his head. “Well, it is not as if I must decide today. There is time yet for me. After all, I do not plan to ma— ” He cut off the words as one of the female attendants slipped into the room. Khalid cursed himself. He had almost said he did not plan to marry, and if that got back to his father, he was certain the sultan would insist on this marriage going through no matter what.
The attendant slipped up to Khalid’s tub, bowed and handed Khalid a message. It seemed the sultan had called the limo’s driver and had ordered Khalid’s immediate return.”
“Is everything all right?” Casey asked.
Muttering under his breath, Khalid tossed the note aside. He had no idea what was wrong, but something was. Standing, he hoisted himself out of the bath. The attendant held his robe for him. He wrapped it around him and then glanced at Casey.
She was staring at him, eyes wide, lips parted and it took every ounce of will not to strip off his robe and climb into her tub. She closed her mouth and Khalid told her, “Dress. We must return to the palace. I think my father noticed we were missing.”.
6
Casey was having a hard time keeping focused. The image of Khalid naked, his skin glistening and all those muscles on display kept circling in her mind, teasing her, leaving her mouth dry and her pulse a little too fast. She’d figured him to be fit—she’d had no idea he’d be utterly stunning, with long legs and a lean body, and abs that would make any man jea
lous and any woman want to put her hands on him.