Sheikh Boss, Hot Desert Nights. Susan Stephens
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‘Thank you for the smoothie,’ she said, shifting awkwardly in front of him. ‘And for…’
‘For what?’ he prompted when she hesitated.
‘For giving me this chance.’
‘You earned this chance,’ he told her steadily.
‘I know you have some weeding out to do—’
‘Stop fishing,’ he warned. ‘You’ll get my verdict like everyone else—before you leave.’
Distress flared in her eyes and was just as quickly gone. He’d make no allowances for Casey forming some emotional attachment to A’Qaban. What he’d told her was how it had to be. He wanted the best candidate for the job, and she’d be treated exactly the same as all the other candidates.
‘Is a suit all right for tomorrow morning?’ she asked in a much more businesslike fashion when he dropped her at the hotel.
Nude would have been his choice, if the circumstances had been different. ‘A suit is good,’ he agreed, passing her bags to the doorman. ‘Or smart casual would be fine too.’
They shook hands formally. He resisted the temptation to convey anything at all in his eyes, but when he stared back at her through the rearview mirror of the Lamborghini his foot stamped down on the throttle as if he couldn’t quite believe the effect she’d had on him.
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