Zadir: Bought for the Sheikh: Desert Kings, #3

Desert Kings

Three brothers return to claim their thrones in remote and beautiful Ubar after their estranged father dies and divides his kingdom between them.

In Zadir – Bought for the Sheikh, royal heir Zadir Al Kilanjar is determined to woo renowned architect Veronica Baxter to his homeland of Ubar to design his palace—and become his wife. Ronnie first met Zadir when their plane crashed in the Empty Quarter (Desert Kings – Veronica – Stranded with the Sheikh), and she hasn’t been able to get the seductive sheikh out of her mind. With her career in high gear and her heart surrounded by more stone walls than her projects, she’s resolved to resist Zadir’s advances—but he’s just as determined to win her.

Veronica – Stranded with the Sheikh

Osman – Rescued by the Sheikh

Zadir – Bought for the Sheikh

A Christmas Wedding

Gibran – Return of the Rebel Sheikh

Amahd – Captivated by the Sheikh

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CHAPTER ONE

I can’t believe you talked me into this. Veronica Baxter’s heart beat so hard she wondered if her expensive new dress might burst at the seams.

Relax, Ronnie. It’s for a good cause. Her friend Cynthia was all brisk efficiency, with her clipboard and microphone, and her red hair tucked into a high bun.

I know, but an auction? It’s just tacky. It makes me feel like a piece of meat. Standing offstage, she could hear the crowd in the big ballroom clapping and cheering over something. She was up next. Maybe I should have worn a suit, so I look more serious.

To a black-tie gala? You look gorgeous and professional. Just smile and be yourself.

But I’m shy until I get to know people. I’m not good with small talk. Whoever buys dinner with me will think they’ve wasted their money.

Nonsense. They’re donating their money to Habitat for Humanity, and the dinner with you is just a bonus. Cynthia squeezed her arm, which had broken out in goose bumps of terror. She had to give a short speech before the bidding started, and she was one of those people who feared public speaking more than death—almost.

You’re right. I’m taking myself too seriously. I’m an architect, for crying out loud. Who’d pay to have dinner with me?

You’re an award-winning, cutting-edge architect who’s currently in the running to design the next presidential library, my dear. Cynthia winked her mascara-coated lashes. I think everyone in the business would like to share an hour or two with you.

Ronnie wasn’t so sure. What if no one bids? She might die of humiliation.

Trust me, someone will. Now chin up, because you’re on! Cynthia shoved her gently toward the curtain that hid them from the stage. Ronnie drew in as deep a breath as the tailored lines of her pearl-gray silk dress would allow, and headed onto the stage, hoping she wouldn’t fall off her high heels.

The lights were blinding as she stepped out. She could hear the announcer’s voice reading her name and describing her as the hottest young architect in America today—embarrassing!—and somehow she managed to make her way to the podium and plaster a smile on her face.

Cynthia had written her short speech about the important work Habitat for Humanity was doing and how she was honored to be there in support of its new project, which promised—as always—to provide homes for needy families in the community… She tried to stay focused on the good cause and managed to get it out without stammering.

The announcer then led a round of applause and declared that they would start the bidding at one thousand dollars. There was a deafening silence, and Ronnie wished the polished wood floor would crack open and swallow her alive.

We have our first bidder! he called triumphantly, pointing to someone in the back. With the spotlight shining right in her eyes, Ronnie couldn’t see anything. Hopefully it would be some nice elderly couple who wanted to contribute to a good cause.

And another, five thousand! Do we have any more bids?

The first bidder must have raised a hand. She squinted into the light. They were holding up round white signs with numbers on them, but she couldn’t make out the faces. She kept her smile firmly in place—she’d practically painted it on with her lipstick anyway—as the bidding rose higher and higher.

Twenty thousand dollars! She swallowed. Cynthia was right about this being a good fundraising idea. She’d have to apologize for pooh-poohing it so much. She certainly hoped she could deliver twenty thousand dollars’ worth of scintillating dinner conversation.

Forty thousand dollars! She blinked, not sure she was hearing right.

Sixty thousand dollars! The announcer’s voice was beginning to sound deafening as Ronnie struggled to comprehend what was happening. And we have a winner, ladies and gentlemen. Number forty-eight, His Majesty Zadir Al Kilanjar will enjoy dinner with Veronica Baxter.

Zadir Al Kilanjar? Her heart stopped beating and the room started to spin. She’d been avoiding Zadir’s calls and emails for months, while dreaming about him every night and wondering about him during the day until she thought she might go mad.

He should be furious with her, not willing to pay sixty thousand dollars for an hour or two of her time. Her breathing quickened. He must be doing this to get revenge on her for ignoring him. This was his way of proving that you couldn’t brush off a prince, no matter how busy or important you thought you were.

She realized her smile had slipped and it took a big effort to paste it back on. Thank…thank you. Now she was stuttering. I appreciate your very generous donation. It was hard to form a sentence with her brain careening out of control. She knew she should say something else, but she couldn’t think of a single word other than, help! so she smiled at the announcer and made her way off the slippery stage as fast as she could.

Cynthia was beaming when she plunged back behind the curtain. See! I told you someone would bid.

Zadir Al Kilanjar… Her voice was a shocked whisper. He’s the man I was in the plane crash with. And who I can’t get out of my mind, no matter how hard I try. She’d been a fool to get involved with him in the first place. Her career was her number one priority right now and she didn’t have time for a long distance affair that could only end in a broken heart.

Obviously you made quite an impression.

But we…I…I had no idea he could even be here. He lives on the other side of the world. She’d thought ignoring him was the safest thing to do.

Relax. It’s dinner. You can reminisce over your miraculous survival then go your separate ways. Cynthia’s bright smile had turned to a frown of concern. Apparently Ronnie looked as panicked as she felt. Cynthia picked up Ronnie’s beaded clutch purse and shoved it at her. I’m sure he’ll be perfectly charming.

Ronnie gulped as she took her purse. That’s what I’m worried about. Ronnie’s mom had been at the peak of her career—singing on stage at Carnegie Hall— when she met Ronnie’s father, and she’d given it all up because touring kept her away from him. Ronnie had sworn she’d never make the same mistake and she did not need a man to turn her life upside down right now.

Cynthia squeezed her arm. Come to the donors’ room. You’ll meet him, then you can head out for dinner.

Where is the dinner? Why hadn’t she thought to ask for more details before?

Wherever he chooses. I know several bidders are planning to head to The Key Grill next door.

Okay. I can do this. It’s for charity. She was trying to convince herself, not Cynthia.

That’s the spirit! You’ve raised the funds to build an entire house in less than five minutes. Cynthia kissed her cheek and shoved her gently toward a door on the other side of the room. Call me tomorrow and let me know how it goes.

Ronnie didn’t manage a reply. She was too busy racking her brain for what to say to Zadir. Sorry I didn’t return your calls. I’ve been busy. I’m sorry I made love with you in the desert when we both thought we might die. No, she wouldn’t say that. Better to pretend it never happened. That’s what she’d been trying—unsuccessfully—to do ever since. Zadir Al Kilanjar had a disturbing effect on her sanity, and no good could come from pursuing their brief liaison.

She pushed open the door—why were all these rooms so bright?—and scanned the glitzy hotel conference room for the man she’d tried so hard to get out of her mind. She saw a door on the far side open and an unmistakable, tall, broad-shouldered and jaw-droppingly handsome man enter.

Heart pounding, she’d made her way across the floor. She hoped she was smiling but she couldn’t be sure.

His eyes were blue. She’d almost managed to forget that detail. Dark slate blue, mesmerizing against his tan skin, and they fixed a gaze on her that made her breath catch. Electricity crashed through her as he took her hand in both of his. Ronnie.

Zadir. She tried to sound clipped and professional, but just sounded panicked. That was a very generous donation. Her hand, still in his, heated and sent unwelcome signals to the rest of her body.

It’s for an important cause. His expression was unreadable. Let’s go.

Oh. She’d expected some pointed questioning about her rude behavior. Okay. Where are we heading? Hopefully not too far.

You’ll see. His eyes shone with a glint of humor.

Is it local? It’s just that my car is parked in the hotel garage and I—

I’ll be sure to return you to your car afterward.

Okay. She could handle this. It was just dinner, not a night in the empty desert. I am sorry I didn’t—you know—I’ve been very busy.

I do know. He held the door open and ushered her out into the hotel lobby. I read about the presidential library commission. Very impressive.

I don’t have the commission yet. I’m one of three shortlisted architects. I have to present round three for the committee next week.

I’m sure they’ll award it to you. Your designs are unique and perfectly suited to the setting.

You’ve seen them? They hadn’t been made public as far as she knew.

Yes. I’ve seen all your designs. His blue gaze suggested that he’d seen a lot more than that, too. Which was true, of course. You’ve accomplished a lot in a short time.

I did tell you I was married to my work. She’d also told him, truthfully, that he was the first man she’d slept with in years. She regretted revealing that now. Boy, this was awkward!

He let her go first through the revolving doors out into the hot Washington, D.C., night. My car is here. He pointed to a white Mercedes sedan parked right in front of the hotel door, with a chauffeur already holding the door open.

Oh. You’re prepared.

Indeed. His mysterious smile made her a little nervous as she climbed into the car. He had promised to bring her back here. She settled herself into the seat, readjusting the skirt of her pale gray dress. He sat next to her, his big body taking up a lot of space. She remembered how they’d kissed in the back of the taxi taking them back to civilization—and someone else’s wedding—after they’d been rescued. Almost as if they were a couple.

She stiffened, regretting the lapse of judgment. He hadn’t told anyone at the wedding about their crazy tryst in the Empty Quarter. What a relief! They’d talked about the crash, and he’d played along, telling everyone about how they tried to raise help with the radio, and how they’d rationed their water, but not how they’d cooled each others bodies with airplane towelettes, or how they’d— It’s very hot in here. Do you mind if I open a window? The lack of air made her feel faint.

It’s even hotter outside. A smile tugged at one corner of his unbearably kissable mouth.

True. She wanted to fan herself. At least her dark skin hid the blush that must be spreading under it. She’d forgotten how gorgeous he was. No wonder she’d fallen into his arms. She really should heed Cynthia’s advice and start dating again so she wasn’t so susceptible. I was nervous, you know, about the auction.

Why? He looked curious.

I wasn’t sure anyone would want dinner with me.

As you could see, I had considerable competition. The smile played further across his mouth. You’re obviously a very desirable companion. And you look stunningly beautiful tonight.

Thanks. She sucked in a breath, then realize it made her chest rise against the bodice of her tight dress and regretted it. You look very handsome yourself. Luckily, she wasn’t going to let herself get overwhelmed by his good looks and charm again.

Not that he would be interested in her now. He was probably furious with her for blowing him off. Rich, powerful me—like her father—expected everyone to bend to their will. She doubted he was different.

His big, broad hands sat on his knees. She remembered how they’d felt on her body, cupping her breasts and caressing her waist. Could we turn the air-conditioning up a little?

Zadir leaned forward and spoke to the driver, then a welcome blast of freezing air streamed out of the vent in front of her.

Much appreciated. She smiled. Goodness, this wouldn’t be easy! Still, she could be polite for a couple of hours. How are things going back in your country?

Very well, thank you. My brother Osman married and ascended the throne three months ago, so he’s starting to implement some much-needed reforms.

That sounds great. Did you ever figure out who sabotaged the plane? The pilot had ditched and left them to crash in the desert.

We have some political opponents, traditionalists who don’t want to leave the old ways. Unfortunately we haven’t managed to find out the identity of the pilot who abandoned us. He left no fingerprints or evidence in the cockpit. The pilot who was supposed to fly us was found tied up in his home and he didn’t remember anything about his assailants. Trust me, though. We’ll get to the bottom of it.

We’re lucky to be alive. Thanks to Zadir, who’d crash landed the plane like a pro.

It certainly put a few things into perspective for me. He looked wistful. Made me prioritize and think about the future.

Veronica peered out the window as a nasty feeling snuck over her. Is this the airport? The sign saying Ronald Reagan International Airport answered her question before Zadir could. Why are we here?

We have a trip to make.

On a plane? She’d had to beg and plead with herself to get on the flight from Bahrain back to D.C. after their crash experience. She hadn’t been on a flight since.

Did our crash make you afraid of flying?

Absolutely! Didn’t it make you nervous?

No. He smiled slightly. It was sabotage. Trust me, this place is secured like Air Force One. The pilot is a trusted member of our household staff.

But where are we going?

Ubar.

But that’s in the Arabian Gulf! It’ll take hours to get there. We’re just supposed to have dinner. He couldn’t be serious.

You did say that you’d come and visit my homeland.

I know but that was… When I was under the influence of your very considerable charms and could not be held responsible for my actions.

It’s Friday night. You’ll be home by Monday.

Panic flared in her chest. No. Absolutely not. I need to get out of the car. She reached for the handle as if she was going to open the door right there on the road to the terminal.

I did pay sixty thousand dollars for an evening in your company.

True. She hesitated. An evening. Not a weekend. And I didn’t tell you to bid so high.

I’d be glad to double my donation to Habitat for Humanity, if you’ll do me the honor of visiting my home. His expression was serious and strangely humble.

But why? You should be mad at me for not returning your calls.

I could never be angry with you. His gaze trapped her. Frustrated, absolutely! But I’ve forgotten all that. Just come, look at the site for my intended palace, and perhaps we can discuss your taking the commission.

Guilt crept over her. Was it really so hard to give him a weekend of her time after he’d saved her life? I’m very busy with this presidential library thing.

I understand and I’ll make sure your time isn’t wasted.

But I don’t have any clothes.

I’ve made preparations. He looked pleased. Clearly he knew he was winning. I even remembered that you like a spray bottle of water to keep your skin moisturized during the flight.

She stared.

And I know you like to wear black or white clothing. They’d laid their clothes out on the desert floor, hoping to attract the attention of a passing plane. Though I see you’ve ventured into silver tonight.

It’s more of a gray. She looked down at the dress, which Cynthia had talked her into. Suddenly she wondered if Cynthia was behind this whole thing. She’d badgered