Page List


Font:  

He shifted his gaze back to the map and tapped his index finger on one particular place. She couldn’t help notice that his fingernails were clean and buffed. The man was immaculate. She gritted her teeth. She liked immaculate. It was free of complications and chaos. Usually.

“The new route between our countries will of course, follow the old Bedouin trail across the mountains.”

She didn’t shift her gaze. “It will be expensive and take years to complete.”

“Maybe, but our countries can both afford it and will be the richer for the connection.”

She looked up and held his gaze. “Your tourism trade will obviously benefit by the drawcard of our traditional culture and ancient buildings. Things your modern country with all its glass towers and technology cannot supply.” She sat back and folded her arms, content her barbed comment would find its target, that it would be felt somewhere behind Xander’s cool, polished exterior.

“And yours,” he said firmly, leaning forward and resting his forearms on his thighs as he lifted his frowning face closer to hers, “will gain access to the sea, and our port, things you’ve never had before.”

“The lack of which has kept us safe for centuries,” she snapped, refusing to be bested.

“Safe, because no one was interested in a country without access to the sea.” He sat back again, eyeing her intently. “Look, if you despise my country’s modernity, you have the choice to remain in the dark ages.” He shrugged. “I really don’t care. Your country will benefit far more than mine.”

A flare of anger shot through her at the injustice of this statement. “You lie, Xander, and there is no point us working together if you continue to do that.” She waggled her finger at him. “You know exactly what you’ll be getting—a percentage of all our goods and oil which will flow through your port, as well as the tourism which my country will attract.”

Suddenly he reached forward and grabbed her waggling finger and gripped it tightly. “Don’t. Ever. Do. That. Again!”

She pulled away in surprise. “I shall do exactly as I like.”

“If you treat me like a child, I’ll walk away.”

“Exactly as a child would!”

They glared at each other in a fiery impasse, broken only by the insistent ringing from Xander’s phone. With an irritated grunt, Xander slid the phone off the table into his hand, rose and walked away. “Yes!”

Elaheh inhaled a shaky breath of relief as Xander walked away. She could withstand pressure from opposing forces whether they be her ministers, visiting diplomats, or family, all intent on imposing their will on someone they believed to be a weak woman. But what she couldn’t stand was Xander being close to her. It was personal, it was intense, and it got through to her like nothing else could.

She needed air. She went to the window and pushed it open, relieved as the dry heat flooded the chill, air-conditioned room and filled her lungs. She didn’t know how Xander and the other kings could stand such artificial conditions. She needed to feel the desert air on her face, and in her body, in order to survive; she needed to feel the essence of the country in her veins in order to live.

She half-listened to Xander’s conversation which mainly consisted of grunts on his part. It took her a little while to work out that it was his brother, Roshan, on the other end of the line. It was only after Xander’s grunts appeared to be in the affirmative—he’d agreed to something, but she had no idea what—that he finished his call, tossed the phone back on the table and sat down again.

He appeared conflicted as he thrust his fingers through his hair. His lips formed a straight line, as did his gaze as it shot directly at her. Bullseye. “Sit down, Elaheh. We have to stop sniping and get on with business.”

“Is that what your brother told you?” She didn’t wait for an answer because she knew both Xander and Roshan were correct. Whatever she’d said, whatever Xander had said, they both needed this project to be a success as it would ultimately benefit both their countries.

Xander didn’t bother to respond but flipped open the laptop, opened a document and turned it around to her.

“What’s this?” she asked suspiciously.

“An initial roading report. I suggest we accept its recommendations and immediately requisition a full and complete report including resources and timelines to let us know what we’re in for, so we can get started. Agreed?”

She restrained herself to a simple black look. “Not yet. I haven’t read it.”

She took the laptop and began to read, aware of his impatience. Despite that, she took her time and read every word. She nodded as she closed the laptop and pushed it over the table, back to him. “Agreed,” she said simply. She was surprised to see a change in his attitude. Gone was the coldness, he even looked amused. It made her less amused.

“What do you find so funny?” she said in her haughtiest voice.

He shrugged lightly and his lips quirked briefly. “You.”

“I amnotamusing.”

“True. You’re far from amusing, much too stern for that. But youarefunny. Unintentionally so. And that’s what makes it even funnier.”

“You talk nonsense, Xander. Is that what your Ivy League education got you? Is that what networking with all your slick friends makes you?” She stood up. “For want of anything solid to say, you turn the tables and try to make fun of me? Is that all you can do? You should be ashamed!”

With that, she stalked out of the conference room and swept through ancient corridors to the suite of rooms which would be hers for the next few days, until their discussions were complete. Once in the room, she dismissed her maids, flung open all the window onto the central courtyard and paced her room, trying to calm herself while all the time winding herself up more by the thought of his face, his eyes, laughing at her.


Tags: Diana Fraser Billionaire Romance