Page 2 of The Sheikh's Temporary Girlfriend

His gaze darkened. “I’m beginning to think that I do.” He smiled gently. “If anything, the bill should be coming out of the intoxicated young man who almost knocked you off your feet.”

“You saw that?” she asked weakly.

He nodded. “I tried to warn you. Unfortunately, it was too little, too late.”

Her supervisor rounded on her. “I hope you’re grateful that you came out of this unscathed.”

“I am—“

“Either way, I’m afraid your services are no longer needed here tonight,” the toad-of-a-man interjected.

Her chest expanded as outrage filled her. “You can’t be serious?”

“I don’t make empty threats.” Her supervisor sniffed heavily. “Of course, accidents do happen,” he allowed.

You were just unlucky that it was a sheikh you spilled a tray of drinks on.

He didn’t need to state the obvious. The sheikh had come over to Australia for a mini-break to meet some esteemed guests. The Queensland island he’d chosen to stay for his last night wasn’t meant to be memorable for all the wrong reasons.

The sheikh crossed his arms. “Before you chase this young lady off for good, I’d like to have a chat with her first.”

Her supervisor blinked in surprise, then acquiesced with a nod. “Of course, Sheikh Basam.”

Amber gaped. “A ch-chat?”

Why would the sheikh need to speak to her? Surely a few spilled drinks didn’t warrant a lecture?Shit.Was he going to dock her pay, after all?

The sheikh smiled and held out the crook of his arm for her to clasp. She obeyed without even thinking, and glass crunched under her heeled shoes as she left the room, which was now buzzing openly with speculation.

A team of cleaners swooped in to get rid of the mess even as he guided her outside through automated glass sliding doors. Her heelsclick-clackedas they descended a dozen, wide concrete steps, which led into a garden rich with the sweet scent of frangipani and overlaid with briny salt air.

She’d yet to take the time to notice how spectacular the garden was at nighttime, where solar lights highlighted big leafy palms and flowering trees.

He slowed before he turned to face her, and she blinked up at him, his shadowed face somehow making him even more imposing. She managed a smile. “Wouldn’t this be considered a little inappropriate in your country?”

“Perhaps,” he conceded, his accented voice as smooth and silken as honey. “Except we’re not in my country. We’re in your western world where women have far more freedom.” He cocked his head to the side. “Though whether that gives you more happiness or not is questionable.”

She dropped her hand from his arm. “We all have our problems, Sheikh Basam. I’m sure even with all your money you have troubles of your own.”

“Please, call me Basam. And yes, you’re right. I do have my own…complications, just as it seems you have yours.”

The garden no longer felt enchanted. All her problems seemed a hundredfold now, brought to the forefront of her mind by his candid honesty. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t.”

“Then perhaps we can help each other.”

Amber felt dizzy suddenly and more than a little faint. “How on Earth do you think I can helpyou?”

“I need someone suitable to be my girlfriend—mypretendgirlfriend.”

A giggle escaped her as hysteria threatened. “You’re kidding me, right?” At his somber, all too serious face, she added, “I mean, you’d have women falling over themselves just to be seen with you let alone being your girlfriend—pretend or otherwise!”

“And therein lays the problem. I don’t want a woman who imagines herself in some fairytale love story. What I need is a woman desperate enough to play the game and keep up the pretense, then walk away at the finish of the week with her end of the bargain intact.”

That she’d also need to keep her heart intact seemed to have slipped his mind, no doubt because she’d had desperation written all over her face. Her broken finances made her the perfect candidate as his malleable girlfriend.

“One week?”

He nodded. “Seven days is all that I ask.”

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