Page 5 of The Sheik's Pretend Fiancee
He didn’t even check to see if her leaning toward him caused her nipples to pop out. He didn’t care.
There were other comments from the people seated around the table. Tiro must have offered the appropriate responses because they all appeared happy with the event.
The doors at the other end of the ballroom opened up to a dance floor.
“Will you honor me with the first dance, Your Highness?” Nipple Woman asked, a teasing “try me” smile on her too-glossy lips.
Tiro looked at the man beside her. He was obviously her husband, but he didn’t seem to be bothered by his wife’s flirtatious nature. Perhaps because the man might stand to gain something from his wife’s infidelities? It was definitely possible. Tiro was no longer shocked by the lack of morals in the upper echelons of international politics and finance.
The wealthy loved to talk about how amoral poor people were, but the truth was the wealthy had no boundaries. If an action created more wealth or power, it was justified, in their minds.
“Another time,” Tiro replied, pulling his arm from her clinging grasp.
He ignored her glossy pout and glanced across the room again.
“She’s gone,” Nipple Woman whispered in his ear. She leaned closer, pressing her impressive cleavage against his upper arm. “But if you’re in the mood for…companionship, I’m more than happy to oblige.”
Tiro shuddered, unable to hide his revulsion. The husband had turned away, chatting up another man. A different woman by the husband’s side glanced over her shoulder at the wife. There would be a bit of spousal sharing going on in the dimly lit hallways tonight, he knew.
“Thank you for the offer,” Tiro told the woman, taking her hands off of him and patting them gently, but firmly. “However, I have otherbusiness to deal with.”
“Pity,” she muttered, then turned, heading toward her husband and more fruitful prey for the night.
Tiro watched her go, then shook his head in disgust. He knew things like that happened all the time, but he couldn’t imagine having such a relationship. Nor did he think he wanted to be so bored with his marriage that swapping with strangers was the only answer.
With an irritated huff, he turned, frustrated that the woman that had been on his mind all evening was gone.
“Let’s head out,” he said to Aziz and his assistant. Both men fell into step behind him and Tiro gritted his teeth as the other guards surrounded him. This was his life, he thought.
Chapter 3
After tossing and turning for an hour, Angela kicked the hotel sheets and light blanket off and sat up. “I hate this!” she hissed. Insomnia was a near constant companion for her.
She climbed out of bed and moved to the window. The city of Paris looked peaceful at this time of the night. She’d stayed at the gala until the dancing started, but watching Lativa’s enemy flirt with a woman whose dress could barely contain her breasts wasn’t something she cared to observe. After only getting three hours of sleep the night before, Angela had hoped that tonight would be more restful.
Alas, insomnia was not going to release her from its vicious grip quite yet.
At least she had a long flight back to Lativa tomorrow. Usually, the sound of the plane’s engine lulled her to sleep quickly.
So she gave up on sleep and decided to get some work done. She could summarize tonight’s speeches for her Uncle Khal and send them off to him. He wouldn’t read them until tomorrow morning, but at least she would get the task out of the way.
A good glass of scotch would help though! She padded barefoot over to the dresser and pulled on a pair ofloose jeans. Her Aunt Marianna had grown up in Paris and would hate the style of jeans that Angela preferred. They were loose and rumpled, but extremely comfortable. She pulled on a big, comfy sweatshirt and stuffed her feet into well-worn sneakers. It wasn’t palace wear, but for a hotel at, she glanced at the time on her cell phone, two-fifteen in the morning, this messy ensemble should be fine.
She peeked out of her bedroom and, as usual, didn’t go down the hallway to let her bodyguards know that she was out and about. Angela had her own routines and, tucking her laptop underneath her arm and hooking her reading glasses onto the neckline of her sweatshirt, she moved silently down the hallway to the servant’s access hallway. She’d done this so many times that it was almost a habit by now.
Once on the first floor, she made her way toward the small bar on the other side of the hotel lobby. It was mostly vacant now as the staff cleaned up from the night’s festivities.
An exhausted waiter walked over. “How can I help you?” he asked, his tone warning her that he didn’t want his close-down routines interrupted.
“I don’t need anything,” she smiled warmly at him. “Just a quiet corner where I can work. Is that okay?”
The relieved waiter gestured to the tables that had already been cleaned. “Sit wherever you’d like. We won’t bother you unless you look for us.”
The man disappeared and Angela gratefully sank down into a corner booth where she’d be out of sight. She opened her laptop, then logged into the secure system that allowed her to send messages to her staff and family. After slipping her reading glasses on, Angela pursed her lips, her fingers hovering over the keys. It took her a moment to think back to the night’s speeches, but once she remembered Sheik Tiro’s words, her fingers started flying across the keyboard.
Angela was more than halfway through her summary when she felt something stir the air. Looking up, Angela’s eyes clashed with Tiro’s.
Chapter 4
