The Sheikh's Tempted Protectress (The Sheikh's Every Wish 4)

He felt Beth place a light hand on his shoulder, a more distant gesture than the hand holding from the night before. She was trying to maintain her distance. He didn’t want her to. He placed his hand over hers and held it tight, staring deep into her eyes. She tensed, but didn’t pull her hand away.

“Whoever it is that’s behind this, we’ll figure it out and be done with it. Whatever happens next, let me just say that I’m really, really glad I hired you Beth,” he said with a grin.

The car pulled to a stop and Adil opened the back door for them to exit. This time Beth didn’t hesitate when he held out his hand to her.

The restaurant was a chic, trendy place. Everyone was dressed to the nines, and the ceiling was covered in glistening crystal chandeliers. The main floor had a live band playing an unobtrusive jazz soundtrack, and everyone was quite busy talking and laughing at their tables. Osman gave the host his name and they were ushered to a table in a more private dining area, separated by a gossamer curtain.

“You always have to be set apart, don’t you?” Beth asked with a frown.

Osman laughed. “Don’t blame me. People see my name and automatically assume I want my own space.”

“And do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Want your own space,” she said, brushing away an errant strand of hair.

Osman was jealous. He’d wanted to brush it behind her ear long before she’d noticed it was dangling.

He grinned. “Depends on the company,” he said with a gleam in his eye.

For the second time that night, Beth blushed. Good. He was getting to her.

“I think I’ll just pop to the restroom before we order,” she said.

Osman translated that as Beth needing a moment to compose herself, and try to build up her walls again. He was enjoying watching them tumble down. He just wasn’t sure what would happen if he allowed himself to do the same.

“Of course. I’ll order us some wine,” he said, and she gave him a small smile as she stood and headed towards the bathroom. He gazed at her back as she walked away, her hips perfectly curved in that black dress, even though she’d opted for flats instead of heels.

Then his view was taken up by a large man in a gray suit.

“Hello, Your Highness. If you could please come with me, there’s someone here that would like to see you.”

Osman stared at the man, who continued to tower over him. He raised one eyebrow, not moving.

“Do I know you?” he asked

To his annoyance, the man had the audacity to sit down at his table. He poured himself a glass of lemon water from a carafe, his eyes fixed on Osman.

“You do not. But I know you, of course. Who doesn’t? The golden boy. Cairo Al-Haddeni’s playboy son, the great disappointment. Tell me, how are things going with the family business? Have you managed to spend all of your father’s fortune yet? I certainly hope not.”

Osman crossed his arms, unruffled. “You are cluttering my table with your presence, sir. I must humbly ask you to take whatever motivates you to bother me during a date and kindly shove it up your ass.”

The man chuckled. “A date? You mean with that ridiculous American bodyguard you’ve adorned yourself with? You should know that she’s being made quick work of in the bathroom as we speak. I’m sure it won’t take long to subdue her, but don’t worry. We’ve been ordered to cause minimal damage…for now.”

Osman shot up, but the man pinned him down, his hand like steel on his shoulder, his expression terrifyingly neutral.

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that, Your Highness. Let me tell you how this is going to play out. We’re willing to spare the girl’s life if you come with me willingly, right now. If you decide you’d rather make a scene, I will personally see to it that she is eliminated in the most painful way possible. Now, you are going to stand with me, and we are going to quietly make our way out of this restaurant. No fuss, no struggle. I’m not here to hurt you, but I will if I must.”

Osman stared the man down, trying to conceal his panic. Beth was in the bathroom, and her life depended on how he chose to act right now. His only option was to cooperate.

He glared at the man as he rose, and the gentleman grinned.

“Ah, it is so nice to do business with a man who can see reason. Right this way, Your Highness,” he said, gesturing grandly toward the front door.

Glancing around the room, Osman’s heart sank as he watched the downturned faces of the wait staff, too busy tending to their customers to notice him leaving before ordering a meal. He thought one more time about shouting out before thinking better of it.

They strode through the front doors and Osman was turned immediately into a back alley. The man’s grip became rougher as they wound through darkened streets, until they reached a black van with the engine running. The man then threw Osman against the van door, pinning his face against the vehicle.

“Sorry to get a bit rough, Your Highness, but my employer requested a touch of intimidation, you see, to make sure you know we’re serious.”

“Who are you working for? Who would do this? I don’t have any enemies!”

The man pulled out a pair of handcuffs and slipped them onto Osman’s wrists, clicking them a smidge too tight. Osman winced.

“You’re a rich brat, Your Highness. You had enemies the minute you were born.”

The man then opened the van’s back door and tossed Osman inside. “Thank you for your cooperation, Your Highness,” he said, peering into the van with a sneer.

Osman glared at him, crouched on his knees, his arms already aching behind his back. “If you hurt one hair on Beth’s head…” he began, but the man interrupted him with a laugh.

“It’s too late now. My part of the deal is done. Your driver will accompany you to the next location. Have a lovely evening!”

With that, the man slammed the door in Osman’s face. Osman could hear him whistling a jaunty tune as his footsteps grew lighter, and eventually all he could hear was the gentle rumble of the van’s engine.

Panicking, he crawled on his knees toward the front of the van, where a gated window separated him from the driver.

“How much are they paying you?” Osman asked.

“Enough to ignore you,” the man grunted. His stench nearly sent Osman reeling backward, but he stayed propped on his knees, desperate to negotiate.

“I’ll double it. I’ll triple it. Turn your alliance and I’ll see you retire in a villa with servants waiting on you for the rest of your life.”

The man turned at this, staring at Osman as though considering his offer.

“He said you’d offer such things. Then he said he’d double whatever you said, no matter how extravagant. I think I’ll take that offer—but thank you, Your Highness. That will be quite nice to relay to him when we arrive,” he said with a grin. The man was missing several teeth.

Osman thrashed against his bonds, feeling the handcuffs cut his wrists, and not caring. “Who are you working for?!” he yelled.

“No need to lower your voice for me, Your Highness. These walls are soundproof. You go ahead and shout it out, if you feel like it. I’m going to listen to some music until my partner returns. Should be any minute—I’m sure he made quick work of your girl. He’s quite the professional, if you know what I mean.”

With that, the man slammed a metal grate between them closed, cutting Osman off.

Defeated, he scooted back to the van’s doors and sat staring ahead with a blank expression. If they’d taken Beth, or worse, it would be all his fault. He hung his head, feeling utterly hopeless.

“Please be okay, Beth. Please,” he whispered. Surrounded by soundproofed walls, his voice sank into the silence; no one was there to hear.

NINE

Beth

“Stop flirting with him!” Beth implored her reflection in the mirror.

She glared at her rosy cheeks—his doing, of course. When she’d woken up that morning she’d been surprised by an entourage of

people waiting to enter the room. A masseuse, a manicurist, really a whole spa had walked in and insisted that she be pampered all day long. By the end of it Beth had felt like an entirely new person, a queen even, and she’d luxuriated in every minute of it.

When it had come time to get dressed, she had been quick to make up her mind. It would be the cocktail dress, and maybe, just possibly, she would think about it as a date. The way Osman had stared at her when she’d entered the room had made her breath catch in her throat. Fortunately, he didn’t seem to hear it. She was even luckier when her plan to bug his phone actually had an opening. She’d dropped her scarf in the hallway on purpose, silently hoping a maid wouldn’t pick it up for her. Once he’d taken his phone out, she’d seen her chance.

Guessing correctly, she was able to bank on his chivalry, and when he disappeared from sight she’d pulled out a perfectly flat black circle the size of a pea. Pulling out his phone cover, she’d placed the dot on the back of his phone and pressed it back into its case, leaving it on the side table. By the time he was back with her scarf, she was in place and ready to go. Now was not the time to deal with a Sheikh who probably wouldn’t appreciate having his phone tracked, but she would need to know where he was at all times if she was ever going to keep him safe.

Now, after several minutes of fighting with her reflection in a bathroom, Beth pulled her own phone out of her purse and contemplated calling her mom. With the time difference, it would be early morning back home, but what would she even say? Hi Mom, I think I’m falling for my employer after two days of work, how are you?

She was so lost in thought that when she was grabbed from behind, she barely had time to register that she was being attacked.

Quickly Beth twisted her body to gain the upper hand, using her assailant’s size and weight against him. She brought his head down against the porcelain toilet, knocking him out instantly.

Not a good start, she thought as she replaced her phone in her purse and sprinted from the bathroom, grateful that she’d chosen flats as her footwear for the evening.

She bolted over to the table they had been seated at, and her stomach dropped.

The table was empty.

Beth rounded on the nearest waiter. “You! Did you see where the man at this table went?”

The man addressed her in a language she didn’t understand. He pointed at the table and pointed at her, making absolutely no sense at all.

“Does anyone here speak English?!” Beth cried, and no one answered. The place was busy, and all the wait staff seemed more interested in serving the tables that actually had people sitting at them.

Annoyed, Beth pulled out her phone and turned on the tracker for Osman’s phone. A blinking red dot flashed about 400 feet from the restaurant.

She bolted out the front door, her eyes glued to her phone as she navigated the streets closer and closer to that dot. As she got within a block, she pinned herself to a brick wall and glanced down a dark alleyway.

There, parked on the side street, was an inconspicuous black van. Beth saw that the engine was running. The bastard was waiting for something, but he was ready to pull out at a moment’s notice.

Beth teased her hair and smoothed down her dress. Then she sauntered up to the driver’s window, and tapped on it. The driver, a fat, dark-skinned man, jumped and looked out at her with bugged out eyes. She smiled invitingly and signaled for him to roll the window down. He did, just a crack.

“I was hoping you could help me, sir. I’m lost you see, and I was so grateful to see your van here.”