miliar face in a sea of new ones.
"How did you get here? Aren't you supposed to be watching Emma?" I asked him.
Dean shrugged. "She asked if I could switch with Mr. Parker's usual bodyguard for the trip. Mr. Saunders was all too happy to agree. Besides,“ he said with a quick grin. “I thought you could use the friendly face."
"You know me too well," I said softly as I stepped through the door. I sent Emma a silent thank you. Knowing I had Dean looking out for me, someone I already trusted, made the idea of being somewhere so foreign easier.
Owen sat down on a white, beautifully upholstered sofa, kicking his shoes off and relaxing for a moment. He watched me as I explored the room like a little kid, grinning at my shock at the size and lavishness of it all. There was a study with a giant TV, a huge and inviting bedroom with a massive bathroom, and a living room bigger than my apartment. The bar and pantry were better stocked than my own, but I forgot it all when I saw the view. From the windows, I could see the city, the desert, and even a sliver of the Gulf glimmering in the distance. It was absolutely breathtaking.
"What do you think?" Owen asked with a grin as I found my way back to the living room. He lounged comfortably on the couch as though he had always lived there. Unable to find the words I needed, my mouth opened and closed like a fish.
"This room is nicer than my parents' house. I can't wrap my head around how big this place is. I didn't know this level of niceness even existed. I don't think this even qualifies as a hotel anymore. I'm in awe."
Owen laughed and stood. He walked over to me and kissed me affectionately on the nose.
"I'm glad you like it. Make yourself comfortable.“ He began to throw on his suit jacket again. “I need to get some work done in the office, but come in if you need anything. I'd suggest something simple for dinner tonight, but we already have plans. I know you must be jet-lagged, but I need you to be ready to go to the sheik's palace tonight for dinner. I'm sorry."
I nodded, accepting the apology, and Owen smiled at me. He turned and entered the study, closing the door gently behind him. In my mind's eye, I could see him opening his laptop and setting up his phone, placing everything he needed just so on the desk before getting to work. It made me smile as I headed toward the bedroom to unpack and settle in.
***
Rachel and Emma had done well at their job of picking out my clothes. Owen's eyes practically popped out of his head when he saw me in the formal dinner dress they had chosen. It was a deep hue of blue that reminded me of twilight, right as stars start to appear but before the moon rises. The sweetheart cut would have been out of place for a conservative dinner, but with a skin-tight long-sleeve lace overlay the length of the dress, only discrete windows of my skin were exposed. I felt like something out of a fashion magazine. As we walked into the sheik's mansion, I knew that that was the point. I was here as Owen's arm candy tonight.
Sheik Mohammad al-Saffar greeted us warmly as we entered a large open room in the center of what I could only call a palace. Marble archways and lavish gardens made his home exactly what I had imagined the castle from Aladdin to look like in real life.
The older gentleman wore the traditional white dishdasha that I was already associating with the Middle East. He looked exactly like what I thought a sheik would look like. "Mr. Parker, what a pleasure," the sheik greeted Owen with perfect, though slightly accented, English. I wasn't quite sure what I had been expecting, but it wasn't that.
Owen had warned me that as a woman, and not party to the negotiations going on through DS Oil and Gas, I would largely be ignored. I chose not to be slighted as the sheik only nodded, but never spoke to me. As the two men conversed, I followed them into a large dining area. A table big enough to feed a small city dominated the center of the room, and delicious smells were wafting off of covered plates waiting to be devoured.
As the three of us entered the airy room, a young man stood and gracefully padded over to greet us. He wore a western outfit of gray slacks and a white short-sleeved shirt with a collar. He couldn't have been more than a year or two older than I was, with perfect olive skin, dark eyes, and eyelashes that seemed to go on into infinity. He broke into a bright smile as he held out his hand to greet us.
"This is my son, Rashid." The sheik introduced the young man, a proud smile lighting his creased face. It was easy to see that Rashid was his father's pride and joy. Owen shook the younger man's hand, and then followed the father toward the dinner table.
"Please, call me Roger. It's so much easier that way," the young man said without a trace of his father's accent. He reached out his hand to shake mine. I took his hand, surprised at the strength and heat in his fingers. He stared into my eyes, making my cheeks flush when he didn't release my hand. The blush only seemed to amuse him, and he gave me a crooked smirk, knowing that he had flustered me.
I withdrew my hand and hurried to the table. I sat down next to Owen, and Roger took his place across the table from me with his father. The two business men jumped into a conversation regarding their oil dealings almost immediately, using the dinner as a sort of informal business meeting. Roger and I sat quietly as they spoke, his eyes catching mine as often as he could. I shifted in my seat. I was unable to put my finger on it, but something about him made me anxious.
Roger grinned at me, making sure he had my attention as he licked his lips suggestively. I felt the blush start again, but I tried to ignore the flustered feeling rising in my stomach.
I was with Owen. I thought it was fairly clear that I was taken, but Roger didn't seem to care, flirting openly with me across the table, even with Owen right there. I didn't want to do anything that could jeopardize Owen's business dealings, and making the sheik's son unhappy would not indenture any good will, so I sat quietly and focused on the food in front of me, avoiding his smiles.
It wasn't hard to concentrate on the food, though as I had never experienced anything quite like this. There were roasted scallops with black truffles, pan-fried sea bass in a zesty lemon caper sauce, freshly sauteed dandelion root with onion salad, and for dessert something called la sfera. It was a beautiful creation of vanilla cream, violet crème brulee, and cassis sorbet that resembled an edible Faberge egg.
We ate until I was sure I couldn't eat another bite. As a waiter quietly picked up the empty dessert trays, Sheik al-Saffar leaned back in his chair, musing over something Owen had said. He and Owen had spent the entire meal debating various points of the contract that Owen was attempting to secure for Jack's company. This dinner was never meant for me, so I didn't mind the two of them talking shop the entire time. From what little I could understand of their oil jargon, it seemed to be going well.
I was slightly unnerved, however, by Roger's constant attention. He hadn't said a word over dinner, but his eyes had never left me. I felt like he wanted to have me for dinner instead of the sea bass, and he was just waiting to find the opportune moment to catch me. I shivered slightly, but not from cold.
The sheik and Owen stood as soon as the last plates were cleared away, and they walked somewhat sedately toward an attached room with a large TV screen. They wanted to look at one of the advertising campaigns Owen had created for selling al-Saffar's oil to new markets. I smiled for a moment as I knew that meant Owen's task was going well, but then frowned as I realized it meant that Roger and I were left alone at the table.
"Have you ever been to Paris?" Roger asked, playing with a water glass. There was something to the motion that made me uncomfortable. I pushed aside my feelings of discomfort, determined to do my best to help Owen out. If I was going to be traveling with him, I would have to get good at being a well-behaved guest.
"No. This is actually the first time I've been out of the country. Well, other than to the Caribbean, but that almost doesn't count." I gave him my most diplomatic smile and hoped he wouldn't see right through it. I didn't really want to talk to him.
"Would you like to?" He dipped his finger into the glass.
"Um, mayb
e someday. I've never really had the opportunity to travel, so I've never really thought about it." I gave myself a mental pat on the back for the smooth answer.