The Sheikh's Irresistible Proposal (7 page)

After dinner, Sadiq walked Hannah back to her room. They arrived at her door and Fatima greeted them. Sadiq leaned in and kissed Hannah on her cheek, letting his lips linger a moment longer this time. He felt the warmth of her skin against his lips and once again felt the stirring inside his stomach. He pulled back and smiled as she padded inside her room in her slippers.

 

Once inside, Hannah walked as if on air to the sofa and flopped down in it, looking over at the maid. “Fatima, is it customary for Sheikh’s to kiss their employees on the cheek?”

 

Fatima smiled coyly. “Well, I’ve worked for His Highness for a very long time, Miss Green, and to date, he has never kissed me like that.”

 

She winked at Hannah and then disappeared into the bedroom to turn down her sheets.

 

After Hannah showered, she slipped under the thick covers and closed her eyes, playing back the events of the day. He never kissed Fatima like that.
So
, she thought.
Maybe he does think of me as more than just an employee.

NINE

The next morning, bright and early, Naasir ushered Sadiq and Hannah out of the palace doors and into the waiting limo. He drove down the long estate driveway and out into the city, passing glittering high-rises and low-lying strip plazas.

 

“Where are we going?” asked Hannah, curious to see what Sadiq had planned for her.

 

“We are going to start with the Shimab. It’s a 16
th
century city famous for its walled exterior. It’s been referred to as the Big Apple of El-Shakanish because it has so many tall buildings and structures. After that, we will visit Katnuk; it’s in the valley and holds the best preserved ruins in all of El-Shakanish. It’s called the Brilliant City because of the way the sun reflects off the ruins. There’s a large, ancient market there where you can find all of our country’s best delicacies. I thought that would be a good place to stop for lunch.”

 

“Sounds wonderful,” said Hannah.

 

They arrived at Shimab an hour later and parked just on the outskirts of the main artery. Sadiq escorted Hannah down some of the busier streets, pointing out famous banks, clothiers and restaurants.

 

“And here is one of the clubs you’ll be performing at,” Sadiq said, taking her by the hand down a long alley.

 

“Sadiq,” cried Hannah as she entered the cobblestone road. “This all seems a little sketchy! Are you sure we’re in the right place?”

 

They ran down the street and ducked under a green awning where Sadiq stopped outside of the unmarked door. “Yes, this is the right place. I told you, jazz isn’t popular in my country. It’s kind of like, how do you say it, a…subculture?”

 

“Oh,” Hannah said, not sure how to feel. She liked the excitement of sneaking around with Sadiq, there was no denying that, but she hadn’t expected the venues to be quite so underground.

 

“So, the clubs are disguised. Only people that know about them can get into them. The culture is growing though, so there will plenty of people coming to watch you perform.”

 

Sadiq turned and buzzed the box outside the metal door. He spoke something into it and Hannah heard a loud click as the door unlocked.

 

“Come,” he said as he took her hand and led her inside.

 

Hannah walked through the door and down the stairs into a dark, smoky club. It was like something out of a movie. The floors were dark wood, polished to a fine shine, the tables covered in crisp white linen tablecloths. Small lamps were centered on each table and a velvet rope stood along the back wall, separating the standing room from the table guests.

 

“Wow,” Hannah said, admiring the formality of the place.

 

“I told you, the subculture is growing. And mostly among the wealthy.”

 

Hannah liked the sound of that. That usually meant better contacts and connections. Maybe, if she played her cards right, she would meet someone with ties to the recording industry when this was all over with.

 

Hannah watched as a dark-haired young man appeared from behind the stage.

 

“Raffi,” Sadiq said with a grin as he walked over to the man and slapped him on the back.

 

“Sadiq, good to see you, my friend.”

 

Sadiq introduced Hannah to Raffi and they spent a few minutes in the club talking about Hannah’s upcoming performance. After they left, Sadiq took Hannah to visit several other trendy spots in the city before they returned to the limo.

 

“Off to Katnuk, Naasir,” Sadiq said when they slid back into the limo.

 

Hannah watched as Shimab disappeared from view and they once again headed out onto the long roads along the desert.

 

They arrived in Katnuk thirty minutes later. Hannah stepped out of the limousine and was confronted with the fragrance of a thousand delicious foods.

 

“Oh my goodness! That smells so good!” she said, looking down at the market in the center of the valley.

 

“You just wait!”

 

Sadiq led her between the bustling stalls as they tried small bites of the myriad foods on offer. Hannah tasted flavors she had never experienced before, while Sadiq laughed at her reaction to the spicy foods of his homeland.

 

They walked side by side, talking and laughing, as Sadiq taught Hannah more about the history and culture of his country. As the day wore on, they found themselves outside the bazaar, walking among the ruins. They wound in and out of remnants of buildings built centuries before, coming to rest on large slabs of concrete that had once been steps down into a colosseum.

 

The sun began its descent behind them and as they talked, it flooded the market in the valley, lighting up the entire basin in a bath of bright gold.

 

“That’s spectacular!” Hannah said.

 

Sadiq watched the reflection of the light in her eyes and felt himself drawn even more to her. “That’s why they call it the Brilliant City,” he said, wanting to move closer to her.

 

“It’s a fitting name. It’s remarkable,” she said softly as she stared down at the valley.

 

They sat in silence awhile longer as the sun slowly disappeared behind them and the cool desert air rose up. Hannah felt the crispness of the night come over her and shivered. Sadiq saw her chill and took his jacket off and draped it over her shoulders, pulling her close to him. She was surprised at the gesture, but grateful for the warmth of his body. She knew it went against everything she had told herself—to keep her distance, to remain professional—but feeling his warm body against hers just felt so good. She closed her eyes and let herself melt into him as he tightened his grip around her.

 

Neither one of them said a word, but they both felt there was something happening between them; they just weren’t sure what it was and where it would lead. A while later, they got up and walked back to the car arm in arm. Naasir opened the door and nodded to Hannah as she slid inside. Then he winked at Sadiq, who scowled playfully back at him, before closing the door behind them.

 

Sadiq and Hannah rode home with the sunroof open, watching the night sky fill with a million stars as they sat in each other’s arms without saying a word.

 

TEN

The rest of the week passed by in a flurry of sight-seeing and mixed signals. Hannah and Sadiq would start each day acting casual and professional with each other and by sunset they would be holding each other close in a way that neither of them could argue was strictly employer–employee.

 

Hannah tried to follow Sadiq’s lead, but he didn’t seem to know what he wanted at all. One day he would be holding her tight, or brushing her hair off her face, almost as if he wanted to kiss her. The next he would keep his distance and try to joke and play all buddy-buddy. By the end of the week, Hannah had had enough.

 

Her first performance came just in time. She had had her fill of seeing the sights and had certainly had enough of trying to figure Sadiq out. She was ready to get back to work. The show was being held in the same club that Sadiq had taken her to in Shimab. Naasir drove Sadiq and Hannah to the city and parked in the alley just outside the covered door of the club.

 

“Isn’t this a bit conspicuous?” asked Hannah, knowing what Sadiq had said about jazz still being an underground subculture.

 

“No, it’s fine. You see, I don’t get out here.”

 

Hannah looked at him, puzzled.

 

“I get out at the front; the main entrance is around the corner. But you get out here.” He could tell by the look of shock on her face that she had no idea what was happening. “I know I told you that jazz is still not a popular thing in my country. I just didn’t tell you why. You see, women, well, they do not have the same rights here that they have over in the States. It is seen as, well, how can I put it, inappropriate for a woman to be performing on stage at a club.”

 

He watched as Hannah took in what he was saying. “So,” she began, “you’re telling me that I’m good enough to sing for you and your royal friends, just not good enough to use the front door?”

 

Sadiq looked down, ashamed. He knew he’d offended her. Maybe he should have told her this before he had brought her here.
But then, she might not have come.

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you this before,” he said. “It’s just that, I figured if you knew you would have to do some sneaking around, that you wouldn’t want to come here and sing. I was afraid the people of my country would never get the opportunity to hear your voice.”

 

Darn him
, she thought.
He’s trying to flatter me, and it’s working
.

 

Hannah sighed and looked at the scratched metal door they had entered before. She finally understood why she was being paid so well; she was black market goods. But, hell, it wasn’t so bad. Some part of her quite liked the whole sneaking around thing. It made her feel like a spy. A good spy, who happened to work for a very rich, very good-looking sheikh. She could live with that.

 

“Okay,” she said, “I get it, and I don’t blame you. I understand our cultures are worlds apart, and I guess I should be flattered that you want me here to sing. So, I can live with the whole back door thing.”

 

Sadiq’s face light up. “Thank you,” he said, reaching out to hug her. “Thank you!” He squeezed her hard and then planted kisses on each of her cheeks. “Okay, so you go in here and I go in the front, but I’ll be watching you the whole time. When the show is over, Raffi will escort you out to the limo. Got it?”

 

Hannah nodded. “Got it.”

 

He hugged her again and then nodded for Naasir to go around and open the door.

 

A moment later, Hannah, dressed in a cobalt blue evening gown, stepped out of the limo and into the Shimab backstreet. Minutes later, she was inside the club and waiting behind the curtain for her cue.

 

The band started up and Hannah stepped out onto the stage and grabbed the 1940s-style microphone. The houselights were dimmed and with the spotlight on her, she could only make out shadowy figures in the crowd. Just the way she liked it. She never liked being able to see who was watching her. It made her nervous. Besides, there was only one person she wanted to see tonight. And she could tell, even in the shadows, that the tall, dark figure with the wavy hair in the back was Sadiq. Just knowing he was there put her at ease.

 

After a few measures of music, she opened her mouth and began to sing. She closed her eyes and fell into her groove, feeling the band, tasting the words as they flowed out of her, breathing in the soul of the jazz. She was quietly amazed that here, in this distant land, where she spoke not one word of the language, the music was the same.

 

Jazz was like that. It was a universal language. She could go anywhere and people would understand her, even if they didn’t understand the words. They could feel the message in the way she sang the lyrics, in the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed in and pushed words out. That was what music was all about. That was what she loved. And she got lost in it.

 

So lost, in fact, that she never saw Sadiq leave. When her performance was through, the house lights went up and Hannah got her first real look at the guests. She scanned the audience, smiling and bowing slightly to the cheering fans. The stage lights made her eyes sparkle as she looked across the faces and toward to the back to where Sadiq had been. She didn’t see him. Her eyes moved across the room more quickly; she didn’t see him anywhere.

 

Where was he? She glanced over to the stage door; nothing. A wave of panic rose up in her. All the fearful thoughts she had had the night she first met him came back to her. What if really he was a crazed stalker?

 

Hannah felt the fear creeping up inside her. She knew she was thinking crazy, but couldn’t help herself. Here she was, in a city she had never been in, at a club she didn’t even know the name of, in front of a room full of men all speaking a language she didn’t understand. This was not good. She was on the verge of having a full-blown panic attack when she heard her name being called.

 

“Miss Green! Miss Green!”

 

Hannah turned her head to the stage door and saw Naasir’s smiling face standing at the open door.

 

She let out a huge breath and gave a final wave to the crowd before practically running off the stage and into the waiting limousine. She hopped in and Naasir closed the door behind her. It wasn’t until he started the car that Hannah realized she was alone in the back seat.

 

“That was wonderful, Miss Green! A wonderful performance!” Naasir smiled at her through the rear view mirror as he pulled out into the busy city traffic.

 

Hannah looked puzzled and was still breathing hard from her panic on stage. “Thank you, Naasir. But where is Sadiq? I thought he would be at the show? I mean, he was at the show, and then he wasn’t.”

 

Naasir nodded to her. “Yes, ma’am. He was. But he got called away on urgent business. He asked me to extend his apologies to you.”

 

“Oh,” Hannah said, cursing herself for overreacting. “Oh, okay, thank you.”

 

She sat back against the leather seat as Naasir drove back to the palace, chuckling at how worked up she’d just gotten. A stalker, a murderer, a human trafficker. She really needed to stop watching so much television.

 

Hannah closed her eyes and took a long, deep breath. She felt good now that she was singing again. It had only been a week, but a week was a long time to go for her. Singing was her therapy. It was her medicine. It was the cure to everything that ailed her. She was glad she’d gotten to sing tonight and was looking forward to the next few weeks of performing. Even if she had to use the back door.

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