Page 4 of Hiding in the Sheik's Arms

“Well, it seems I have a reputation to uphold,” he muttered, his tone laced with sarcasm. He took a step closer, towering over her desk. Tasha forced herself to hold his gaze, refusing to be intimidated. Not anymore!

“I'm sure the committee is eagerly anticipating my delightful disposition,” he continued, his voice low and tinged with a dangerous edge. Tasha's fingers tightened around the edge of her desk, but she maintained her composure.

A flicker of awareness passed between them, a silent acknowledgment of the power play. Tasha was determined not to be the first to break eye contact. The seconds ticked by, the air heavy with unspoken challenges.

Finally, he broke the stare, a sardonic smile playing on his lips. “Well, let's not keep them waiting then, shall we?” Without waiting for a response, he turned and strode purposefully towards the conference room, leaving Tasha with a lingering sense of…triumph? Happiness?

As the door closed behind him, Tasha released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. The encounter had left an electric charge in the air, and she couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of a series of interesting confrontations with the enigmatic Sheik Khal Al-Sintra.

Belatedly, Tasha grabbed her notebook and hurried after him.

Chapter 2

Khal eyed the gorgeous woman, noting the pink tinge to her cheeks. For the first time, there was a glimmer of…something…in her brown eyes.

She’d woken up.

Khal had no idea what had happened to her before she’d come here, but it had obviously been horrible. Tasha O’Connor had gone through some flavor of hell, then retreated into a protective shell of nothingness.

But now, she was coming alive and…damn, she was glorious!

He hesitated, wanting to hurry right back into her office and demand answers. He wanted to know what had happened to her and, even more importantly, what had changed over the past few weeks. When she’d first started working for him, Tasha had been efficient and polite. Every report, every analysis, every damn thing she’d done had been absolutely perfect.

But her eyes had been blank. There had been no smiles, no frowns. She’d nodded whenever he’d asked her for something and delivered on every task. Everything was done with zero emotion. She’d walked around the administrative offices as if she were a robot.

For a long time, Khal had wondered if Tasha was even capable of emotions. She’d looked…asleep. As if she’d been working in a trance.

However, about two weeks ago, maybe three, there had been a few small sparks of impatience. And humor. And…something unexpected in her eyes. Something that had called tohim, made him want to turn back and talk to her, maybe even linger in her presence.

Tasha was undeniably beautiful. Her dark hair was always pulled back into a tight knot on the back of her head. He suspected that she thought that the style was professional, but in reality, the tight knot only enhanced the delicate planes of her face. She had high cheekbones and huge, chocolate eyes that, until a couple of weeks ago, had been completely emotionless.

But today…today those chocolate eyes had glimmered with something new and he’d almost chuckled at her sarcasm. Thankfully, he’d been able to restrain himself, but damn, she was…glorious!

She’d lost too much weight over the past year though. He thought about the grey dress she wore for work today. The dress literally hung on her thin frame. Tasha needed to eat. She was rail thin and pale, but with the changes, that new glimmer in her eyes, maybe something inside of her was changing.

What were her favorite foods? What could tease her into eating a bit more each day so that she could gain back a bit of her weight?

Khal realized that he had no idea what sorts of foods the woman preferred. He’d never seen her actually eat anything. Did she like chocolate? Or donuts? What were those things that Americans ate in the morning for breakfast? Yes, pancakes. Didn’t they doused them with syrup and butter? He’d tried them once but…they weren’t his style. Khal usually gulped down a protein shake after his workout in the morning. His shakes were made with tofu, soy milk, two handfuls of spinach, and avocado chunks. It wasn’t very tasty, but the mixture gave him enough energy to slug through the first few hours of the tedious morning meetings and boring updates from his agency directors.

He glanced at the report that he’d set aside. He hadn’t looked through the details yet, but he guessed that the summary would be precise and accurate. And that’s when he realized that she’d done this for several other reports over the past few months. Thinking back, he recalled seven different reports that he’d anticipated would be enormous beasts. But when they’d landed on his desk, they’d all been accompanied by short, precise summaries of the data and findings.

How long had he been relying on those summaries? And how the hell did Tasha read through them and get the summaries to him so quickly?

Damn, she was good!

Chapter 3

She heard a thud, then a grumbled, “What the hell is that?” Tasha looked up to find that Khal had dumped a stack of files onto her desk, and was glaring at her new office décor.

Tasha smiled at his familiar, grumpy tone. “It’s a plant,” she said, her voice unusually cheery as she hefted the stack of files and carried them over to her bureau. “You have five minutes until your next meeting, Your Highness.”

Khal shot a disdainful glance at the plant. “Since when did we start decorating with shrubbery?”

“Since I decided this place needed a touch of life,” Tasha replied, her smile widening. “Now, you’ve got four minutes. Better make them count.” She handed him a file containing the agenda for his next meeting, as well as notes on the subjects to be discussed. “Oh, and your brother asked to speak with you as well.”

“Which brother?” Khal asked, still eyeing the plant with distrust.

“Prince Joran, Your Highness,” Tasha clarified. Khal had two brothers, Prince Joran, who was two years younger than Khal, and Prince Raj, who was four years younger than Joran. The brothers weren’t exactly close, but nor were they enemies. Joran and Raj were both brilliant, handsome men, but neither seemed to have the same sense of civic responsibility that their oldest brother had in spades.

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