“Hey!”
Aurora snatched her hand out of her pocket as if the watch had burned her and turned around to see the same woman she’d run into earlier—the dishwater blonde who’d called her Steph. Her heart pounded in her chest as she struggled to try and come up with some kind of excuse for being on the ship.
“Are you that new maid, Aurora?” the woman asked.
Aurora blinked, startled at hearing her correct name on the woman’s lips. How had that gotten around the yacht so quickly?
“Yes,” she said, instinctively standing straighter. Her mouth and throat felt dry.
“The Sheikh asked for you,” the woman said. “He’s still in his quarters; wants to talk to you.” The woman seemed utterly unconcerned by the situation, and Aurora wondered if that was because she didn’t know that Aurora was a fake—or if she did know, and simply didn’t care about the outcome of the discovery.
“Oh, sure—I’ll head right over,” Aurora said, resisting the urge to curtsy or bow her head. “Thanks for letting me know.”
She moved quickly for the entrance into the body of the ship, swallowing against the tight feeling in her throat. The watch weighed down her pocket, and she wondered if maybe the Sheikh had left it in his suit jacket on purpose, as some kind of test. Had he expected her to immediately come back to his room and tell him he’d left it there? Aurora shivered at the change of temperature and the dread that worked its way through her spine. If he had been testing her, she’d already failed. This is going to be bad.
It didn’t take her as long to find the Sheikh’s room as it had the first time. Aurora steeled herself as she reached the double doors, straightening her shoulders and closing her eyes for a moment to summon what little courage she could find inside of herself. She would have to brazen it out, whatever it was the Sheikh wanted from her. I don’t even know his name. I should know his name, if I’m one of his employees. But that shouldn’t come up, should it? Aurora pressed her lips together, took a quick, deep breath, and knocked on the door in a brief, staccato burst before opening the door.
“Sir?” She stepped into the stateroom to find the man she’d brought breakfast to seated on the couch. To her disappointment, he wasn’t still wearing just a towel, but was dressed in a lightweight, designer suit that seemed tailored perfectly to fit his body. His hair was dry and brushed back from his face in wavy curls, and he looked at her with a pleasant, neutral expression on his face.
“I like to take a few moments to introduce myself to all of my new employees,” the Sheikh said, gesturing for Aurora to come closer.
She stepped away from the doorway and approached reluctantly, wondering—irrelevantly—if she had some kind of splotch or blob on her face or clothes, something she might not have noticed but which could stand out under the man’s intent gaze.
“First of all, let me formally introduce myself; my name is Khaleel Al-Mohammedi.” Aurora nodded slightly. “I own this yacht, as you might have guessed, ” Khaleel smiled. “My father passed away six months ago, leaving me in charge of the family business. I spend a lot of time on this yacht; I find being on the sea is a good escape.” Khaleel paused. “Now, tell me a little about yourself.”
“A-about me?” Aurora raised an eyebrow.
“Yes,” Khaleel said, smiling slightly. “I like to know a little bit about the people working for me. How did you find out about the job opening? How are you finding the work and your coworkers?”
Aurora smiled tightly, her mind spinning as she tried to come up with something she could tell the man who was watching her so intently.
“Well,” she said, “My name is Aurora Evans, I’m twenty-five,” You’re not introducing yourself to a therapy group, here, she thought. “I found the job listed online,” she added quickly. “I don’t remember exactly where.” Aurora tried for a charming laugh. “I’m sort of in-between careers at the moment, so I’ve been looking for anything I’m capable of doing, and when this posting came up it seemed like a really good opportunity.”
“That’s a refreshing attitude, wherever you find it,” Khaleel said. “So you haven’t been a maid for very long?”
Aurora shook her head. “No, but I’ve been cleaning for most of my life,” she said brightly. “My parents insisted on it.”
Khaleel laughed. “I’m glad that you were able to get through the interview process, then,” he told her. His dark brows knit together slightly and he leaned forward. “That’s a very lovely flower,” he said, gesturing to the pocket on her blouse where it was pinned.
Aurora smiled, thinking of the woman who’d remarked on it as a potential demerit if the Sheikh saw it. “Thank you, sir,” she said, inclining her head towards him slightly.
He shrugged, dismissing the need for gratitude with a brief wave. “Now—I’m not sure if anyone informed you that I also ask all of my new housekeeping employees to undergo a preliminary evaluation?” Aurora’s eyes widened slightly and she shook her head. “Most people think that cleaning is a pretty straightforward task—you use some cleaners, a rag, maybe a mop or a scrubbing brush, right?”
“I understand that there's a little bit more to it than that,” Aurora