"Has he done anything to actually make you concerned?" Dean's eyes narrowed as he contemplated my options.
"No. Just implied. I have no real reason to be afraid of him. He just makes me nervous is all. If I can avoid him, I want to."
Dean nodded, then gave me a warm smile. "Well, don't you worry about him. He's probably just a weird kid who never learned to be polite because he has so much money he never had to. Let Owen know, though. Owen won't stop scheduling things that involve Rashid if you don't tell him. He'll understand."
I fiddled with the groove in the tile of the entryway, pushing the hem of my yoga pants into it with my toes. "I'll tell him. I just don't want him to be upset or do something that will endanger his contract. It's pretty obvious the sheik thinks his little boy is the best thing since sliced bread and will take any affront to Rashid as an affront to him. I don't want to ruin the contract because some punk makes me nervous."
Dean put his hands on my shoulders, and said in a low voice, "Owen knows how to handle situations like the one with Rashid and his father. You have to trust Owen to do the right thing."
I nodded. "I'll tell him when he gets home. I just feel like I'm overreacting, and I don't want to mess things up."
Dean gave me a squeeze before letting go of my shoulders. His quiet confidence and the way he approached a problem reminded me a lot of my dad. I could see why Emma trusted him as much as she did.
"So, what are you going to do today?" Dean asked, taking a step back into the main room. I glanced about, and my eyes settled on the kitchen. I loved cooking, and I hadn't had time to cook anything more than a frozen pizza for weeks. I had been itching to try out some new recipes after all the good food I had been eating.
"You like pancakes?"
Dean nodded and rubbed his stomach. "Can't you tell?"
"Then get ready for the best pancakes you've ever had. I'm cooking today."
***
"You have the list?"
Dean gave me a look that very clearly said Of course I have the list. Stop asking.
I went through the recipes one more time, making sure I had everything. I only wanted Dean to go out shopping for me once. He said he was happy to go do it, that he even knew of a market close by, but I still felt bad. I didn't want to leave the hotel, so I was just going to stay in the room. Dean was all right with that, because I couldn't possibly get into trouble. Besides, if anything did happen, hotel security was on speed dial.
"Remember, fresh cilantro if they have it," I reminded him one last time as he slid on a baseball cap.
"I'll remember. I be back in thirty minutes," Dean said, closing the door behind him. The lock clicked loudly in the quiet room.
I stood staring at the door for a moment, wondering what I should do until he got back. While playing checkers with Dean all day, we had started talking about food. When our favorite homemade meals had come up, I had told him about my mom's secret recipe for "Cheeseburger Pie. Dean suggested I cook it for Owen, along with some chocolate chip cookies. It wasn't exactly scallops with black truffles, but I thought Owen would enjoy it and it gave me something to do. The hotel-stocked kitchen had most of the main ingredients, but I needed some fresh things that I couldn't substitute. For a small slice of my infamous Cheeseburger Pie, Dean had agreed to get them.
I went to the kitchen, pulling out the various pots and pans I would need for cooking and prepping what I could without my fresh ingredients. I found myself humming as I put wat
er on to boil for the potatoes and set out the cutting boards to prep the salad. I was looking for a second mixing bowl when I heard a noise in the other room. Dean was faster than I thought.
I peeked around the corner to the living room, and my blood ran cold. Rashid was on the couch, sitting there like he owned the place. I nearly threw the wooden spoon in my hand at his head, but decided that probably wouldn't be the best reaction. A fair reaction, but not the best.
"How did you get in here, Rashid?" I hoped my annoyance was apparent. I didn't want him here, and I wasn't going to be polite after he broke into my room. I could be diplomatic, but that didn't mean I had to be nice.
He gave me a chastising look. "It's Roger." Then shrugged his shoulders as if getting into a locked hotel room were nothing. "I believe the expression is 'I know a guy.' I get whatever I want, and I wanted to come see you."
I swallowed hard, glancing at the clock. Dean wouldn't be back for another fifteen minutes at the earliest. I hoped there wasn't traffic or that he didn't take his time looking for fresh cilantro. Roger stretched out on the couch, then patted the seat next to him. I stayed standing.
"What do you want to do today, Kaylee?" He looked me up and down, undressing me with his eyes. I fought the urge to cover myself with my hands. He couldn't see through my shirt and yoga pants, no matter how much he wanted to.
"I want you to leave."
"Aw, Kaylee. I can't do that. I came all this way just to see you. Don't be a bad hostess," he said as he stood. I was suddenly very aware of just how much taller he was than I.
"Please leave." I tried to say it forcefully, but it just came out as a whisper. I didn't want to mess anything up for Owen's contract with Roger's father, but I desperately wanted him to go away. He just smirked at me, knowing exactly the position I was in. He knew I wouldn't do anything to jeopardize the contract and he was counting on it. He took a step closer to me.
"You don't want that, baby. You know you want me." His voice was smooth like oil, sliding over my skin and making me feel dirty. I bumped into the wall behind me, not even aware that I had been stepping back. He gave me a smug smile, knowing I had backed myself into a corner.
I spied the phone on a small table. With my left hand, I reached for the phone's receiver, but my right hand never got to the numbered buttons. As fast as a snake, he grabbed my hand. The receiver fell out of my hand, and I looked up at him with fear in my eyes. I struggled, but his hands were bigger and stronger than mine, and held me easily. I tried to bring my knee up into his groin or at least to drag my foot down his shin- anything to cause him pain- but he was pressed so close to me I couldn't move. I was powerless to stop him, no matter how much I fought and squirmed.