“But I like to point out politically, that Americans only care about things on a whim. If we suddenly become the go-to playground for the rich, then any other problems we might have as things destabilize around here will actually get listened to. Don’t mistake the kitschy name and the glitz for something else. I think of my duty, my family, and what the resort can do for everyone constantly, Miss Sinclair,” he finished, feeling his breath coming rapidly as he spoke and his nostrils flaring with his anger.
She considered him and leaned against the railing. “This place really does matter that much to you? You really believe your own hype?”
“I know exactly what I care about and what I love, Miss Sinclair. Do you?”
“What?” she asked, furrowing her brow and wrinkling her nose.
“Do you have things you love besides using journalism to tear good people down?”
She stepped back a bit, as if she’d been slapped. “I do care about others.”
“But not everyone is out there to step on the little guys, Amanda,” he said, lowering the timber of his voice, even as he let his face get closer to hers. Again, his lips were just inches from her ear as he continued, his voice a low, guttural whisper. “I’m not some monster or heartless aristocrat who doesn’t care about his people. They keep me up at night, my responsibility to them. So, when I see someone with such a chip on her shoulder that is determined to do against others, I do have to ask: do you love anything at all?”
She reached back to slap him, but he caught her right hand and restrained her wrist, just as he did the same thing with her left for good measure. Amanda pulled against his grip and cursed at him in a variety of colorful phrases, but he still held her firmly.
“Let me go. I’m not some harem girl that you can just have your way with,” she threatened.
He leaned into her, aware of his hardened manhood. Amir knew the moment she realized that he desired her, because she stilled under his grip and her eyes went wide.
“No, Amanda. You don’t get to insult me and the work I do without getting a fully balanced look at all of it. Tomorrow is the gala opening for the art museum section of the casino. I’d like you to come with me as my honored guest so that you can see everything that we’re offering the people of Abu Dhabi.”
“I…” she started, licking her lips.
It seemed to him that her eyes had dilated as well, that her pupils were just a bit bigger than before.
“Yes, what was that?” he asked.
“You don’t have any right to restrain me like this.”
“You’re the one who tried to strike a CEO and a head of state. I see you here, and I know something far more is going on with you. You’re lucky I’m not my father, or the penalty would have involved severe jail time in Abu Dhabi for such an offense. I’m merely asking you to give me a chance before you pass judgement on everything I’m doing. If you’re going to write a piece that you could have written from Washington, DC, without any view of Abu Dhabi, why not let me show you what I have to offer here? Why not actually do your job?”
“Sure, let’s see if you can convince me that another casino matters to anyone,” she said.
Suddenly, she was lifted up to sit on the balcony and his lips were on hers. He’d been right about her. She tasted vaguely of scotch still, and he relished that taste, just as he relished the softness of her lips and the perfume she wore. It was so fragrant that it reminded him of a forest full of gardenias.
His hands roamed lower, even as she pushed her body closer to him. Reaching farther south, he ran his hands over hips he could hold firmly on to and that separated her from his usual fare, from women like Svetlana who were bony in comparison. Part of him wondered why he’d shied away from a woman with curves as glorious as hers, away from the softness of h
er for so long.
Amanda moaned beside him, and he could feel her legs wrap around him as she leaned into him. Her own hands were sliding up toward his shoulders, reaching as best as they could for his neck. Her tongue slid into his mouth, plundering his own, and he matched the force of her tongue’s strokes with his own, both of those muscles slipping over each other and fighting for dominance.
Finally, as if a spell were broken, or, perhaps, as sobriety burst through her actions, Amanda pulled back and looked up at him, the shock clear from her stiff expression to her wide eyes that were as blue as the ocean.
“I…I never should have done that. I’ve been drinking and…”
“Oh, I can tell that much, my reporter.”
“I’m not your anything,” she said, pushing him away, even as her cheeks flushed red. “I’m not property or something for you to play with. I’m just a journalist about this close to being fired and crossing the last lines I have left.”
There’s a story here. I wonder what else she’s done in her pursuit of the truth, how a ball buster like her ended up in my neck of the woods at all.
Amir chuckled and brought his hand to the underside of her chin. “You might feel that way now, but still come out with me. Let me show you the true depths of what I do. Hell, I dare you to try fighting the attraction that’s surged between us since the first time you walked into my office.”
“I’ll come to the gala, but just because I want a well-rounded piece,” she said. “The least I can do on this pathetic beat is get an exclusive.”
“How generous of you.”
She licked her lips and looked anywhere but at him. “But if you think that anything like this will happen again, then you’re wrong.”