Page 4 of The Sheik's Pretend Fiancee
“The hosts of tonight’s dinner areawaiting your presence in the dining room.” He cleared his throatand looked at the floor, pretending that he hadn’t just watched his employer consorting with his country’s enemy. “They don’t want to insult you by starting without you.”
Tiro rolled his eyes as he pushed away from the stone banister. “Right,” he grumbled, then turned and walked down the stairs. If his hand brushed against the railing, it wasn’t to try and touch the same places that the lovely lady had touched. He knew that it was ridiculous to think that inanimate objects could retain another person’s essence.
Still, his fingers lingered where the woman’s hand had touched. He thought about the moment he’d touched her arm, keeping her from bumping into another guest. Her skin had been warm and inviting. His hands itched at the memory of her soft, sensuous curves and the dark brown hair piled into curls on top of her head, wishing to hold her. Visions of her full lips and the dark depths of her brown eyes danced behind his eyes. The woman was beyond stunning.
Did she know that? Is that why she’d turned to look back at him after reaching the bottom of the stairs? Had she looked back because she knew that hewaswatching?Had the bewitching woman known that he was wondering what she looked like naked?Had she sensed his needto strip her of every piece of clothing so that he could imprint himself on her?
Alleanat ealayja!He snarled silently as he made his waythrough the maze of tables in the large dining room. As soon as he sat down, the waiters immediately swarmed the dining room, carrying large, round trays containing the first course.
Because of his rank, Tiro was the first person at his table to receive the first course and he looked down at the anemic bowl of soup –barely worth calling broth, really– trying to stifle his look of irritation. The liquid was golden, and basically transparent, with some fru-fru, edible flower floating on top. What the hell was he supposed to do with theflower?
With a mental eye roll, he lifted his soup spoon, a tiny piece of silver that nearly disappeared in his huge hand. His hands were made for battle.Not dainty, pointless soup spoons!After the first mini-spoonful of the insipid soup, he wanted to growl with irritation.
Wanting to dismiss the infant-sized portion, Tiro looked up, his eyes immediately finding the woman who hadn’t left his thoughts since he’d met her thirty minutes ago. She delicately sipped the pointless broth with the same delicate spoon. She sat three tables away, but her seat on the opposite side of the table meant that they faced each other. As he watched, the lovely princess sipped her soup and smiled at something someone said. But he could tell that she wasn’t impressed with the nearly flavorless soup.
Tiro grunted and gripped his soup spoon, glaring at her. But he carefully ladled another spoonful of the broth and lifted it to his mouth. He resisted the desire to simply pick up the bowl and pour the tepid broth into his mouth.
He had to remind himself that he was no longer a soldier. He was the ruler of his vast country and needed to behave accordingly.
Still, he was a bit peeved when he looked up and saw the amusement in Angela’s gaze as she watched him. She couldn’t read his mind, he assured himself, shooting an irritated glare right back. But when she lifted her spoon again, turning her head toward the guest on her right, he wanted to leap to his feet and roar with irritation. Tiro wanted her attention back on him.
Instead, he turned to the guest on his right. The woman was in her mid-thirties, perhaps, and was wearing a dress so low-cut, he couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if she moved too quickly.
The woman tittered and he suspected that she’d just tried to laugh “enticingly”. She’d failed.
“It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you, Your Highness,” the woman simpered, offering him a warm smile that suggested that she was more than willing to do a whole lot more.
He glanced over to the other table in time to see Angela’s eyes drop to the table, her soup spoon poised inches from her mouth. He gave her a look, trying to convey that he wasn’t interested in the ostentatious woman. Almost immediately, the beautiful princess’s shoulders relaxed, the spoon continuing its journey to her mouth. She smiled politely at the man next to her, but there was no warmth to her expression. Good, he thought and answered the annoying woman’s questions about his country.
After nine courses of pretentiously prepared and artistically displayed food, Tiro was ready to escape. He didn’t give a damn about the speeches that would come next, nor did he care about whatever elaborate dessert was on the way. He just wanted to get out of this tuxedo and settle in with a glass of scotch. He wanted to talk with the woman who had been glancing his way all evening. He wanted to feast his eyes on her beauty, watch as she pulled the strategically placed pins from her hair so the dark tresses tumbled over her shoulders. He wanted to listen to her tell him about the conversations at her table and hear her sigh with relief as she kicked off her heels.
Tiro knew she’d been watching him because he’d been watching her. He hadn’t even tried to hide his interest in Angela. She was a beautiful woman and he desired her. Yes, he knew with certainty that there was absolutely no way he could act upon his desires. But the pretty blushes and shy glances his way made this evening bearable.
“Your speech has been loaded onto the teleprompter, Your Highness,” Osman whispered into Tiro’s ear.
Tiro nodded with resignation, and looked toward the host. The older woman nodded encouragingly at him while whispering in her assistant’s ear. He stood up and walked up to the dais. Tonight’s speech was about…something blah, blah, blah…unity. The speech had been suggested after two other countries in his region had attacked each other. Tiro knew the real reason behind the attack. One country was working on a land grab so they could gain financial control of a newly built canal that would bring in billions in shipping fees and would allow cargo ships to travel from the Mediterranean Sea to the Indian Ocean. The new technology would allow ships to move through this canal faster and more easily than the current canal, which was a much smaller, more narrow and less efficient canal.
The whole attack was ridiculous political maneuvering and financial greed hidden behind a facade of “religious” righteousness. In his mind, it was pointless. The violence was a horrific waste of lives for financial gain by a small group of people. The governments, or more specifically, the corporations that would supply the war materials to both sides of this conflict would receive massive contracts, as well as kickbacks due to this “war” effort.
As soon as Tiro stood in front of the podium, the entire ballroom silenced. Tiro looked out at the crowd before his eyes landed on the woman sitting to his left. She looked lovely and even offered him a polite smile instead of the required disinterest that a more experienced diplomat would offer in this situation. It was smart of the host to put Princess Angela and himself on opposite sides of the room. He looked around and noticed several other global enemies in similarly strategic positions. The host was smart to have separated enemies, but also brilliant by bringing everyone into one room.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, allowing his eyes to move over the other guests before returning to the only woman in the room who actually interested him. Only then did he continue his speech. He didn’t stick to the script though. During the points when the rhetoric started to become heated, he pulled back, tempering the speech. He recognized the startled responses in the crowd, but ignored them, glancing repeatedly at Angela. He knew she was surprised by his words, and he wanted to finish the speech, walk over to her and take her hands so that he could take her to a private area where he could ask her opinion. He wanted to know what she thought about his changes, about the possibilities of peace and cooperation between the warring countries.
Instead, he looked to his right. Osman was valiantly trying to hide his shock at how Tiro had diverged from the speech. Then he caught the eye of his head of security, Aziz Ortmon. They’d served together in the military years ago. As soon as Tiro ascended to power after his uncle passed, he’d pulled Aziz out of the military, asking him to serve on his security team. The man had vowed to protect Tiro with his life.
His stoic head of security’s expression was one of abject horror. His mouth had fallen open as he stared, wide-eyed, at Tiro. However, by the time Tiro finished his speech to deafening applause, and even a standing ovation, Aziz had mastered his surprise, hiding behind ascetic unconcern.
Tiro ignored his guard’s bland countenance and glanced over at Angela. She still looked startled, but now, was also impressed. A surge of pride washed over him with her approval, but he somehow managed to turn away and greet the host who was approaching. She shook his hand, said something banal about his speech, and then Tiro turned and walked off the stage. He didn’t give a damn who was supposed to speak next. He just wanted to get out of this suit and into something more comfortable.
That was another thing he preferred about being home. He didn’t feel pressure to wear suits and the noose of a necktie.This bowtie was absolutely miserable!
He considered slipping out of the ballroom and finding a place where he could relax, sip some excellent scotch, and review the meetings he had planned for tomorrow. But if he left now, Tiro wouldn’t be able to continue to admire the lovely princess. So instead of slipping away, he returned to his seat.Did he listen to the next four speeches? Nope.Did he clap politely?Also, nope. He wasn’t sure what was said, and clapping might send the message that he approved. So instead, he did nothing.
Except watch the lovely woman sitting across the room from him. Thankfully, no press had been allowed in the room. He suspected several of the guests had snuck pictures of him, but he was relatively confident that there was no way anyone would capture him staring at Angela. They’d need to be sitting behind her or behind him in order to truly confirm where his gaze kept wandering.
Besides, he felt a jolt of triumph every time their eyes met. Occasionally, he even caught her pretty cheeks flush with color.
Of course, by the end of the night, the lovely lady was glaring at him. He chuckled a little, causing the woman beside him to inquire what he found so funny.
