The Sheikh’s Sham Engagement (The Safar Sheikhs 3) - Page 4

“I think we’re ready for bed,” Nasser whispered, then they both smiled through a kiss.

3

Willow tapped her foot against the glossy tile of the palace hallway. It felt like eons since she’d been here, at the Safar palace, but she could probably navigate it with her eyes closed if she tried. This place had been her second home at one time. And now? It was a place of business. Something both intimate but distant. A situation made even more evident by how long she’d been sitting outside Nasser’s office, waiting to meet with him like any commoner off the street.

It stung a little. It did. Especially when all her memories associated with this place involved rapt attention and luxury. But now?

&

nbsp; Business colleagues. Just like it should be—she needed to remind herself of that.

Because apparently their sexy emergency night in the tent would remain just that. They’d woken up fine the next day, with only one small snafu. The condom had broken. Willow tried not to freak, and Nasser was adamant that things would be okay. They’d returned to Al Ghuman, parted ways, and went on with their separate lives.

Except now Willow had another snafu. Something that might be a little worse than a broken condom.

To pass the time, she opened up one of her favorite shared folders on her phone, something she’d been adding to continually since its creation right after moving back home to help take care of her sister. Her ESCAPE folder, begun as a way to help her sister envision the future. Shared between all devices, all of her wild travel dreams lived here. Swimming in the underground caves in Belize. Visiting mummies in Egypt. Researching long-term living in Italian villas.

Any life she could think of, she liked to research and plan. Just to see what it might be like.

Just as she opened a map of Eastern Europe, Nasser’s office door opened. Someone in very traditional tribal garb strode out with a frown, and Nasser poked his head out a moment later.

“Hey, were you waiting long?”

She shook her head, even though she had been. “Not really. Can we speak?”

“Sure.” Nasser went back into his office, and she followed him inside, immediately sensing the tension in the room. She didn’t know what was wrong with him and was hesitant to add more to his plate. But this issue needed to be dealt with by someone with power. With sway.

“What can I do for you?” Nasser paused at the side of his desk, staring at a paper there as he ran his fingers absent mindedly back and forth over the surface. Willow didn’t know which approach was better—pretend like the other night had never happened or act chummy like the best of fuck buddies. Everything was strange, and she didn’t like how good it felt to just be in his presence again.

Better to just cut to the chase and let the pieces settle where they may.

“I have a visa issue,” she blurted, easing into the chair facing his desk. This office was new, and it looked like a good representation of Nasser. Tribal yet cool. Mauve curtains over a tall window overlooking the hedge garden. Ancient prints paired with the sleekest of sleek desk and computer system. Nasser always wanted the best electronics, and it looked like he had exactly that, based on the three monitors lining his desk and the speakers positioned around the periphery of the room.

“Okay. You can’t get it sorted?” Nasser still hadn’t exactly looked at her, and she couldn’t tell if it was distraction or something else. Maybe their night in the tent still lurked in his mind too.

“No. That’s why I came to see you. I need you to pull some strings.” She crumpled, examining her nails as she spoke. “I knew I’d be getting the standard tourist visa for this job, which gives me three months. But I figured that I could transition to the work visa once I got here. I recently found out that my work visa application was rejected. I don’t know why. But if we can’t rectify it, then my tourist visa is going to expire in a month and a half.”

Nasser’s brows formed a straight line. Finally, those dark eyes swung her way, sending a chill through her. “But the tourist visa is for three months, which is how long this project should take. Did they give you a shorter tourist visa?”

“No. I got a three-month visa.” Now she was wringing her hands, realizing how her overpreparedness might actually become her downfall here. “I just came to Amatbah early.”

“A month and a half early?”

“Yes. I wanted to be prepared. Make sure everything was ready and planned out.”

Nasser sighed, and she could practically hear the words he always used to use with her—you’re going to plan yourself to death. She couldn’t deny it. She was an overplanner. It was just fun for her. It kept her sane. But now it might get her kicked out of the country.

“And you’ve already applied for the work visa?” He leaned against the edge of his desk and crossed his arms. He was close to her—close enough to touch if she moved just the right way. Did he sit like this with all his appointments?

Maybe this meant there was still some intimacy between them. Even though she knew there shouldn’t be. He’d made it very clear two years ago that he couldn’t be bothered to wait for her. For every plan that Willow had made during their relationship, Nasser had done his best to buck it. She should take the broken condom as a sign. Their relationship was just as broken, and no amount of nostalgia would fix the issues that had ruined them the first time around.

They were opposites. No matter how hot and doting he was, Nasser would never be able to plan for anything solid in the future. He just wasn’t built for it.

“Yes. It was the first thing I did when I got here,” Willow explained. “I had everything ready, followed the instructions to a T.” She paused, wondering if she should mention that she had actually gone straight to the government building after her plane landed. She’d been that on top of things. “There’s no explanation of why my work visa was rejected. I’m planning on going there tomorrow to ask, but I thought that I should let you know now. If they don’t end up approving it, then this could derail the progress of the school.”

“And what will happen if you have to bow out of the project?”

Willow deflated. “Progress will halt. The infrastructure can be completed without me here, but once it comes time for hiring and educational implementation, we’d have to wait until I could return.”

Tags: Leslie North The Safar Sheikhs Billionaire Romance
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