Page 3 of Hiding in the Sheik's Arms

Somehow, she contained her amusement as well as another snarky comment. But it took a great deal of self-control not to fidget when his intense gaze lingered on her for a moment longer, and she felt the weight of his scrutiny like a physical touch. Tasha could almost taste the simmering displeasure in the air, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of making her squirm. Nor would she laugh at his scowl. Grizzly bear, she thought, keeping the laughter off of her face.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally broke eye contact and sighed, his tone edged with irritation. “Fine. I’ll review this summary later.”

The dismissal hung in the air, unspoken, but tantalizingly close. Tasha didn't let his grumbling rattle her composure. She smiled calmly as if he’d made an inane comment about the weather.

Tasha wondered at the spark of…something…that suddenly flared in her chest. It had come out of nowhere, surprising her. For over a year, she’d been numb, not feeling much of anything. She’d done her job with efficiency and intelligence, giving her adopted country and Sheik Khal her entire focus, but she’d kept the personal side of herself hidden.

This new…strange and unappreciated spark of something raw and…vibrant…wasn’t welcome. She’d been hurtbadly by her enthusiasm and the energy she’d given to her previous job. Tasha had learned the hard way to hold a part of herself back, to hide from the powerful men of the world.

After leaving the hospital, Tasha had scurried like a rat trying to find a place to hide. She’d found refuge in this always beautiful, sometimes harsh, foreign country and, for the past twelve months, she’d healed.

So, what was going on in her head now? What were these weird, fluttery sensations in her stomach? Why was she suddenly ready to laugh at her boss’s grumbles? Why did she feel the desire to tease him? Why did she suddenly want to bring him a cup of soothing tea?

Where was the protective numbness that had carried her through the past year? She liked the numbness. She appreciated the inability to feel anger or pain or…anything.

As the realization dawned on her, Tasha felt an unfamiliar surge of energy coursing through her veins. It was as if a dormant part of her had suddenly come to life, jolting her into a heightened state of awareness and…holy hell, Tasha found she was staring at her boss’s butt!!

The numbness she had clung to so desperately had betrayed her in this crucial moment.

She could feel the anger simmering just beneath the surface, a newfound fire that refused to be extinguished. Tasha tightened her grip on the edge of the desk, her fingers digging into the polished wood to anchor herself against the unexpected wave of unwanted awareness.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Tasha's heart pounded in her chest, each beat a reminder of the awakening within her. She couldn't deny the surge of defiancethat welled up, pushing back against the stoic facade she had worn for so long.

She took a steadying breath, trying to regain control over the tumultuous emotions that threatened to spill over. In that moment, Tasha realized that the numbness had been a shield, a protective barrier that had safeguarded her from the complexities of human interaction. Now that numbness was shattered! Tasha stood on the precipice of a new and unfamiliar reality.

Tasha sat down in her desk chair, folding her hands in her lap. For several moments, she didn’t move. A lock of brown hair slipped from the band holding her hair back. Impatiently, Tasha tucked the hair behind her ear, unaware of the fire in her pretty, chocolate-colored eyes. Her lips pursed as she eyed the man’s backside, fury causing her pink lips to purse into a frown.

And then he was gone, hidden by the heavy, wooden door that protected the man’s office. And yet, Tasha still didn’t move. If anyone had passed by her office in that moment, they would have seen her pale cheeks warmed by the anger inside of her. They would have paused to take in the light in her eyes, maybe even hesitated because of the defiant lift of her pointed chin. But Tasha was unaware of her features tightening. All she knew was that…something was different.

As she stared at the closed door through which Sheik Khal Al-Sintra had exited, Tasha felt a flicker of determination. The grumpiness and challenges her boss presented were no longer something to be endured in stoic silence. Instead, they became a call to action, an invitation to confront the emotions she had so long suppressed.

The awakening within Tasha was both unsettling and empowering, leaving her with a scary, newfound sense ofpurpose. What was this gentle emotion she was currently feeling towards her boss? Why couldn’t she shrink back into the protective, comforting cocoon of her numbness?

The man in question suddenly burst out of his office again. Tasha blinked, but she was no longer startled by his explosive urgency. Was she getting used to the man’s ways? Perhaps, but that didn’t mean she liked his grouchy demeanor.

The man in question stopped in her doorway, looking at her. “I’m going to need the hospital report. The one Isfar discussed last week. And get me the military options General Offenzier discussed as well.”

Tasha pursed her lips, trying to suppress this sudden jolt of irritation caused by his sharp, demanding tone. She had no idea of the light shimmering in her eyes or the vibrating energy that seemed to make her glow with a newfound purpose.

Her eyes narrowed as she stared up at him, “You read the hospital report last week and gave out instructions to your Department of Humanities two days later,” she explained. “As for the military options, you have a meeting with General Offenzier tomorrow. The report is on the left hand corner of your desk underneath the new benefits options for palace staff and the,” she paused, cringing inside, “weekly menu from the chef.” She wasn’t sure why Sheik Khal needed to approve the menus for the week, but it seemed as if everything, even the smallest details of palace life, were dumped on Khal’s very broad, extremely capable shoulders.

Tasha glanced at him curiously and suddenly noticed the exhaustion that formed a tight line around his mouth. Again, that uncomfortable emotion hit her. For some silly reason, Tasha wanted to reach out and sooth the line between his eyes. Which was absolutely ridiculous! If there was any person whocould handle the load of running a country, this man could. He was impressively smart and made decisive decisions with the information presented to him.

“This is fine,” he grouched, his voice carrying a hint of…what?

His dark eyes dropped to the thin binder, and he sighed. A moment later, he tapped the report against the palm of his open hand, then nodded. “Thank you.”

Tasha couldn't hide the startled warmth that washed over her. A soft, surprised smile played on her lips, one that she couldn’t hide in time.

"Anytime, Your Highness.” She laid a hand flat on her desk, valiantly trying to stop the next words. But they came anyway. “Sifting through the tedious details is what makes my job so thrilling." Even Tasha was surprised by her smart-ass response. But instead of a growl of disapproval, she heard gruff, startled laughter and…that gushy, warm sensation increased.

Before she could revert to her usual gruff, efficient self, the man in question braced a hand on her doorframe, leaning in as he looked at her. “What time is my next meeting?”

Tasha didn’t even glance at her tablet. “You have four minutes, Your Highness. The members of the military services committee are gathering in the conference room now, waiting for your royal presence to grace them with your delightful disposition.”

At the reply of “four minutes”, Sheik Khal had started to turn away. But at her upbeat, snarky reply, the man jerked to a halt, his dark eyes narrowing on Tasha. She kept her features bland, looking back at him innocently.

His expression hardened, and Tasha could feel the tension crackling in the air. The atmosphere thickened with unspoken words, and the weight of his gaze bore down on her like an impending storm.

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