Hired: The Sheikh's Secretary Mistress. Lucy MonroeЧитать онлайн книгу.
were flirting with him.”
“I never flirt.” She had no idea how.
“You smiled.”
“And that is a crime now? You were smiling, too.”
“I most assuredly was not flirting.”
She took a deep breath and tried another tack. “Name the last business dinner I did not accompany you to.”
“Last month, when I had dinner with Sandor Christofides regarding using his ships for importation of certain goods to Zorha.”
This was getting beyond ridiculous. “I was in Seattle setting up for your arrival at the business conference!”
“You made no stipulation of where you were at the time…you simply told me to name the last dinner you had missed. So I did. Now, I expect you to work on my project.”
“I’ll work on it when I decide to work on it, and that is not going to be tonight when I could be having a pleasant dinner with a business associate.”
“He is my business associate.”
“What is the matter with you? You’ve never acted this way about me sharing dinner with you and an associate before.”
Wasn’t it bad enough he was planning to marry another woman, was he trying to ease Grace out of other areas of his life as well?
“I did not like the way Jerry looked at you.”
“What? Like he pitied me for having such a churlish boss?”
Amir drew himself up and positively glowered. “I am not churlish.”
“Dismissing me from your dinner plans without a by-your-leave certainly doesn’t constitute polite behavior.”
“So, we are back to that.”
“We never left it,” she said with exasperation.
“We are leaving it now.”
“And that leaves me where?”
He had enough sense to look chagrined. “Would you like me to call and cancel so you will not be forced to eat alone?”
She was not a charity case. She might have been shy and backward when she first came to work for Amir, but she’d grown a lot in five years. “Of course not, then Jerry would consider you inconsistent and that is hardly the impression you want to give a business associate.”
“So, you will stay here and work on my personal project.”
“No. I will find my own dinner out there.” She pointed out the window. “I will no doubt return far too late to work on anything. Now if you will excuse me, I need to change into something besides business attire.”
It was her turn not to give him a chance to answer as she marched into her bedroom, making mental plans for the evening as she went.
Amir stood in dumb transfixion as he listened to the silence left behind after Grace’s door slammed shut. “I would prefer a wife who does not slam doors,” he said loudly into the empty room.
The sound of another door, this one Grace’s bathroom, shutting with noisy force was his only answer.
Damn it. What had happened? One minute he had been closing a lucrative deal and the next he was verbally fencing with a termagant. Had she been serious about going out on her own? Perhaps not as active as New York, Boston nevertheless had a distinct nightlife. And Grace planned to participate in it?
Never!
It was time for a trip home where the only nightlife was listening to the nocturnal sounds in the desert. Yes, definitely…he and Grace needed to go to Zorha. He could meet with his father and brothers and discuss their new business ventures while she cajoled his mother into sending her more fragrant soaps.
What to do about tonight? Clearly he had two options. He could include her in the dinner with Jerry, who had spent the latter part of their meeting all but drooling over Amir’s dowdy assistant. Had the man no taste…or was he more discerning than most? Amir feared the latter. He feared even more that Jerry saw Grace as an easy mark and that she would prove to be one. She was ripe to be plucked from the tree of her virginity.
His other option was to allow her to go out for an evening on her own. In her current frame of mind, she was likely to do something she would regret later. As her friend, he was conscience-bound not to allow that. At least if she came with him to dinner, he could keep an eye on her.
And if Jerry thought he would be taking Grace home for a nightcap, he had a rude awakening ahead of him.
CHAPTER THREE
GRACE ADJUSTED her seat belt and looked out the window of the private jet at the wet tarmac. It was raining. Nothing new about that in New York in the spring. At least that was one good thing about heading to the desert. No dreary, gray days ahead. But other than the improvement in weather, she did not understand why
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