Page 5 of Savage Romance
Shortly and succinctly, Zoe informed the group about Meryl and Grace’s terminations, how she valued work environment safety, and that she would alter the schedule. “With a little over one-hundred bedrooms and a staff of eight, I should be able to create a work schedule with ten to fifteen rooms for you to clean. I’m not sure how your schedule could have been so messed up before.”
That remark won her a few smiles, and when she announced that she’d made Conchita supervisor of housekeeping, the staff actually clapped and issued congratulations to the older woman. For the first time since she’d entered the room, Zoe’s shoulders lowered and the tension in her jaw and neck eased. “Are there any questions?”
For about ten minutes she engaged in a bit of Q&A, before she declared the meeting adjourned and thanked the attendees for coming again.
“Before we leave”—Dennehy pushed himself away from the wall and stuffed one hand in his slacks pocket—“while I’m perfectly happy with Ms. Jones dealing with the day-to-day business including this issue, I insisted on being here. Not to interfere, or because I doubt for a moment she can handle this. No.” His gaze glid over the attendees, giving them all his undivided attention. “I’m here because I want to apologize for what happened to you in this hotel. I apologize for not being aware of what was going on under my own roof. And I sincerely apologize for not acting sooner toward Ronald. If any of you want to leave this job, I assure you I will do my best to help you find another place to work, but I sincerely hope you’ll give me”—he turned toward Zoe and a smile softened his features—“us, a chance to make it right and make this the best damn hotel in the city, for guests and for employees.”
Darn, he is making it really hard not to like him.
Fuck me, but she resembled a fierce lioness in the meeting and the attendees ate up each and every word. And doesn’t her fire make me wonder if she would yield under my body and in my bed.
Following his hotel manager into the hallway after the meeting, Ben wanted to compliment her on a job well done when three figures stepped in their way. The first man was about five-ten and wore the traditional dress Ben usually associated with the Middle East—a very long white shirt, a black robe, and white fabric kept in place by a black band around the head. The two men standing behind him wore dark suits and foreboding expressions. Their keen gazes constantly scanned their surroundings before returning to the traditionally robed man.
“Zoe Jones?”
Something in the man’s tone made Dennehy halt in his tracks and scrutinize the trio. The two suits, everything from their attire to their posture screamed they were bodyguards, stared forward with blank expressions, but the dude in the traditional clothing raked his eyes over Zoe in a way that brought every dominant, possessive, and protective instinct Ben possessed to the forefront.
Zoe gave him a glance from the corner of her eyes, and he took a steadying breath and unclenched his fists.
“Yes, that’s me.”
“Sheik Khalid bin Karim al Hania Abbas.” He gave a slight bow and placed his hand on his chest. “Assalaam ‘alaikum.”
To Ben’s utter surprise, Zoe inclined her head and replied, “Wa ‘alaikum assalaam,” before giving the sheik an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know much more Arabic, do you speak English?”
The sheik’s eyes sparkled. “I do, young lady, that I do.” His tone held mirth and only a hint of an accent—predominantly British boarding school.
“How may I help you, sir? Are you a hotel guest? Is there a problem?”
“Ah, well.” The sheik glanced over at Ben. “Could we speak in private? I have a… delicate… matter to discuss.”
Rational or not, Ben didn’t like the man or the way he eyed Zoe like she was some juicy steak, and the sheik had just come off thirty days of fasting. There was something proprietary in the man’s gaze. Ben’s protective instinct screamed for him not to let the sheik get Zoe alone. Since Ben didn’t succeed in business or at the poker table by ignoring his instincts, he took one step toward Zoe, ignored her “what the fuck” glare, and curled his arm around her shoulders. “How may we help you, Sheik?”
The man’s eyebrows disappeared under the white fabric of his ghutra.
“Anything you have to say to her, can be said in front of me,” Ben clarified.
Beneath his arm, Zoe stiffened but she didn’t pull away from him. Her compliance shouldn’t have pleased him as much as it did.
“Very well.” The sheik snapped his fingers and one of the suits handed him a folded piece of paper. “I have here an acknowledged debt from a gambling bet your brother made before his… passing. Since you’re his beneficiary, I’ve come to collect it from you.”
Shock, disbelief, and anger flitted across Zoe’s expressive face as she accepted the paper. She scanned the message, and all the color drained from her face.
“I appreciate it is probably a lot of money for you.”
Zoe’s hand dropped, the paper dangling from her limp fingers as she nodded.
“If you can’t pay me back my money, I’m sure we can come up with… something”—he paused and hummed—“mukhtalifatun”—a longer pause—“different, perhaps.” Again, he raked his eyes over Zoe.
Irritated and urged by a possessiveness he didn’t understand, but absolutely certain he knew exactly what “different solutions” the sheik was alluding to, Ben plucked the IOU from her fingers. Without inspecting the paper, he stuffed it in his suit pocket and raised his chin. “I’ll pay you back.”
“I’m afraid that’s not acceptable to me.” The sheik scowled at Ben’s arm lying on Zoe’s shoulders. Picking up the challenge, Ben curled his hand around her bicep and pulled her even closer.
The sheik narrowed his eyes. “Please keep out of this matter, sir.” Trying to ignore Ben, he turned his attention back to Zoe. “How about we go to that private place and… discuss the matter, Miss Jones?”
Zoe seemed catatonic but she didn’t move from Ben’s arms. Her willingness to lean on him pleased both the dominant and the man in him.
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, Sheik Abbas. Zoe and I are engaged to be married, and I can’t… I won’t… allow you to take my fiancée anywhere.”
