“You’re not welcoming timealonewith me, are you?”
How he managed to place such loaded meaning on the word “alone” defeated her. She placed her hands calmly together and eyed him in silence for a few moments. That usually did it. But not, it seemed in Xander’s case. He looked as cool and unperturbed as if, she imagined, he were sharing a morning coffee with friends at the beach. Not that she’d ever been able—or wanted, she reminded herself—to do such things.
“No,” she said. “So I suggest we begin.”
He shrugged as if he wasn’t bothered either way.
His lack of seriousness ratcheted up her annoyance levels a further notch. It drove down any hint of a blush and the ice which usually ran through her veins returned. “You don’t appear to care whether our discussions are successful, or not.”
“Of course they’ll be successful. Why wouldn’t they be? We both want the same things.”
“Which are?” It was her turn to raise a scornful eyebrow. “Perhaps you’d care to remind me.”
“We both want what each other has.”
Why did she feel he was talking about something far more personal than infrastructure projects? She stopped her mind from making an unwelcome swerve.
“I understand that you need my country’s stability and power and size to bolster your small, pocket-sized country,” she replied. “And I have agreed to help with that. But we need little from you.”
“You are being deliberately provocative.” She’d rattled him. She knew she had, as he carefully replaced his cup into its saucer. His stance hadn’t changed but he’d tensed his jaw. “You may be a large, powerful country, but Sharq Havilah has an infrastructure of which you can only dream.”
“Phh! City skyscrapers, cell phone towers, and western boutiques.” She made another derogatory sound. “These are not things my country needs.”
“Then…” He leaned in to her. “Why are you here?”
She could have kicked herself. Her enmity for this infuriating man had driven her into a corner. He was right. She, and her country, needed his country’s expertise to bring Tawazun into the modern age. She just didn’t want to admit it.
She decided to take the easy route out and take his words at face value. “I am here, because of the treaty I signed with the three countries of Havilah, and with Jazira. I am here because I said I would be.”
“You are here, Elaheh, because you need my help. And, so I suggest you quit attempting to antagonize me—which you won’t succeed at, by the way.”
They glared at each other in stalemate for a few moments. The air crackled between them but with what, Elaheh couldn’t describe. There was animosity, but mixed in with that was an array of other feelings and emotions which left her confused and bewildered. And she couldn’t afford to be either of those things now. She wanted to push him away, to slap his face, to wrestle him to the floor as she used to her cousins. That thought lingered and changed into a very uncousin-like image. It was Elaheh who turned away first, and opened the laptop.
She cleared her throat. “Item one on the agenda is telecommunications.” She looked up at him, over the laptop. “I understand you have some expertise here.”
“Indeed. And you need it, don’t you?” A smile tweaked his lips, as if he’d won the first battle. He may have, but he wasn’t going to win them all, she’d make sure of that.
She licked her lips, as she tried to form the words of capitulation—of admitting that she needed him. They refused to come.
“And then we’ll move to item two,” she said. “Your country’s access to mine, over the mountains.”
His smile fell. She had him there.
“I assume your country’s need to access my country and all its unspoiled heritage and cultural riches is still of interest to you?” She pushed the point home.
He gave one short, sharp nod of the head. Good. They were even again.
“Then let’s begin.”
She was impossible.Of all the women he’d ever met—and he’d met plenty—Queen Elaheh of Tawazun had to be the most obstinate, the coldest, the angriest and the most intractable that it had ever been his misfortune to meet. Sure, she was intelligent and beautiful. But she wielded those God-given gifts as weapons, and with painfully accurate aim.
He was weary of battling with her. At the end of another hard-driven bargain, he stood up.
“Where are you going?” she asked sharply. “We haven’t finished here yet.”
“You might not have, but I have. I need a break.”
“You can have one here.”