usually much better at anticipating his actions.
She knew he didn’t want his father controlling his life, even if the older man was King of Zorha. If not now, then sometime in the future, his father would come back with another parentally approved bride. Amir’s only choice was to get there first. And he would have sworn Grace would realize that.
He had half expected her to have a list of suitable candidates already compiled. This intransigent refusal to help was completely out of character for her. Not to mention unacceptable.
It didn’t help that Grace was kind of cute when she was startled like that. It wasn’t a look he saw often and, frankly, that was probably for the best. He couldn’t afford to ruin the most important relationship with a female that he had in his life for sex.
His mother might be hurt to know he placed Grace above her—and everyone else—in importance, but there was no contest. His PA impacted his reality in both big and small ways on a daily basis. No one had more influence on his day-by-day existence than she did.
Unfortunately, she was not the type of woman he could have a fling with and then go back to his normal life. Or he would have scratched this particular itch a long time ago. And he wouldn’t have ended up with Tisa, either, thus preventing the subsequent edict by his father. Regardless, he recognized that working together afterward would be impossible.
He refused to risk something as important as his relationship with his perfect-for-him personal assistant for something as ephemeral as sex.
The fact that his desire to experience that side of his dowdy assistant was getting stronger all the time only enhanced his certainty that finding a convenient wife was the best course of action for him. Which meant he had to convince Grace to help him.
They both needed the protection. Because he knew that Grace would be far too easy to persuade into his bed. She watched him with an innocent hunger that had caused him to hide more than one hard-on behind his desk. He’d long since stopped questioning why a woman so unaware of—and poor at—showcasing her feminine attributes would affect him this way. He simply accepted that he craved pulling her long, curly mop from its tight bun and running his fingers through the red silk.
He also wanted to expose and taste the expanse of her alluring skin…the light dusting of freckles looked like sweet spice on the untouched creaminess. Did those delectable little dots cover her whole body? Were her delicious-looking apple-shaped breasts adorned with the cinnamon-looking specks?
Damn it. He had to stop thinking like this or he was going to have to start taking midafternoon showers…of the cold variety.
He must convince Grace to help him find a convenient wife…the only kind he wanted.
Memories of the one emotional entanglement of his life and its aftermath sent chills through his heart. No love. No intense emotional connections. He was never going there again. Not in his mind, not in his heart and definitely not in his life.
Grace settled into her seat beside Amir at Fenway Park. They’d flown to Boston on business and he had surprised her with front-row tickets to see her favorite baseball team. She loved the Boston Red Sox and any other time would be absolutely ecstatic over his generosity. Only she had a bad feeling they were by way of a bribe.
He hadn’t said another word about her finding him a wife in almost a week, but she was too smart to think he’d forgotten about it. That wasn’t Amir’s way. She’d worked with him for five years and couldn’t think of a single instance when he had ever given up something he wanted after only one argument. He was much too confident and strong-willed to be easily dissuaded from a path he’d chosen.
And he’d made it clear he wanted her on that path, choosing with him.
This wasn’t right. Or even remotely fair. She should be enjoying the game. Instead, her mind was whirling with ways to convince Amir she meant business and fears that she wouldn’t be able to hold the line against him.
It was hard saying no to the man you loved, even if he saw you as a piece of handy office furniture.
Amir looked sideways at her. “Everything all right?”
“Yes. I’m really happy to be here. Thank you.”
The smile he flashed her was both sincere and incredibly sexy. “I am glad. And you are welcome. You deserve much more.”
Okay, so not a piece of office furniture. Guilt suffused her. She sighed. She’d be willing to bet that if asked, Amir would not only describe her as a top-notch personal assistant, but he would also claim they were friends, too. And they were. The truth was, Sheikh Amir bin Faruq al Zorha was her best friend. She was pretty sure he considered her the same or close to it.
The problem for her was that she longed to be more than his friend and knew that could never happen. He was so far out of her league, she might as well be considered a player in peewees, while he was definitely a top player in the major leagues.
None of which was anything new to her, so why was she allowing the situation to ruin her current experience? The answer was, she wasn’t going to. This was a wonderful treat for an obsessive baseball fan like her and she wasn’t going to diminish it with depressing, but old and familiar thoughts.
Grace forced her attention back to the men on the field. And if her senses were more in tune with the man beside her, no one had to know.
Amir had been biding his time before approaching Grace again about the issue of finding him a wife. Whatever had caused her to be less than receptive the first time around would no doubt get better with time.
This strategy had worked before. He would put an idea to Grace and give her time to think about it. If her first reaction was negative, more often than not she would talk herself into it more effectively than he could. Usually. He was hoping this was one of those times. But if it wasn’t, he’d taken care to soften her up with a trip to Fenway Park and was in the process of buying her a team jersey after a rousing win by her favorite team.
She’d chosen one that was made for men and obviously at least a couple of sizes too big. When he’d pointed out one that would have been more formfitting, she’d shaken her head.
He couldn’t complain about her propensity to wear either shapeless or oversized clothing—or both—because it was one of her habits that helped him control the frustrating desire that plagued him around her. Though even that habit was rather endearing.
He had never known a woman so clueless regarding her feminine appeal, or how to showcase it.
For this small mercy, he could only be grateful.
He waited until they were in the limo before broaching the subject on his mind and in the end, she made it easy for him.
She settled back against the leather seat facing him. “Okay, what gives? As if I didn’t know.”
He poured her a glass of lime Perrier and himself a finger of vodka. Too bad she did not drink. Enhancing her malleability right now could only improve his cause. “If you already know, there’s no point in me saying it.”
She took the sparkling water. “Thank you.”
He inclined his head.
She took a sip, regarding him over the rim of her crystal tumbler.
“Thank
