Mr Big Shot: A Sheikh Billionaire Romance Page 3
“Yes. All this…” she waved to the room and everything that was in it. “Is this yours? Or do you represent someone else? I guess what I mean to ask is, do you have the final say-so or do I have a boss above you?”
“I’m the top, Gabrielle. I’m a ruler and my word is the final decision. There is no one else you must answer to.”
“Okay, second question. Did you hire me legitimately because you needed an assistant, or is this some sort of elaborate prelude to making a pass at me?”
Arran burst out laughing at this. “That’s one of the things I love most about American women. They truly speak their minds without fear. I will answer you with the same honesty, Gabrielle. I saw you downstairs and was instantly drawn to you. I find you immensely attractive, not just in face and figure, but in the way you handle yourself. It also happens that I do need someone to assist me, and since your needs aligned with my needs, why should I question that?”
Gabrielle pursed her lips. “Well, at least that was honest,” she admitted.
Arran held out his hand. “Shall we make a pact, then? Always honesty between us?”
Gabrielle hesitated. She had no idea how deeply he might delve into her past. “Agreed.”
* * *
The Rolls was waiting beneath the portico for them when they stepped outside. Gabrielle could never get used to the blast of heat that hit her when she left the hotel’s cool interior. It was enough to drive you back inside, and that’s exactly what the hotel wanted. Vegas was a city of subliminal manipulation and the odds were always in the favor of the house.
Alahan sat in front with the driver while Gabrielle and Arran took their place in the luxurious leather back seat. They met up with the realtor but she was not invited to ride with them, much to her dismay. They followed closely behind and Alahan was forever vigilant, scanning the traffic on either side of them until they’d left the city limits and they were surrounded by desert.
The agent’s car turned down a private drive banked by palm trees and green space. When the house came into view, Gabrielle drew in her breath. The home was ultramodern with a deeply overhanging roof. The exterior seemed to be made of some sort of concrete mixture, textured for appearance but functionally very cool in the desert heat. Tinted floor to ceiling windows punctuated the walls.
The agent approached the Rolls and Alahan stepped out, looked around, and then opened the door for Arran and Gabrielle. The heat was staggering but Gabrielle noticed that Arran didn’t seem the least bit affected. He feels at home in this stuff, she observed.
Serra had not accompanied them on this trip since Alahan was there and it wasn’t expected that Arran and Gabrielle would separate during their outing. Gabrielle looked the house over critically, her silver sunglasses blending with her hair. Arran looked at her from the corner of his eye. She looks like a platinum goddess, he thought to himself.
Inside, the house was even more fabulous, if that was possible. High, coffered ceilings with fans kept the cool air moving and the windows were treated so that no heat passed inside. The more Spartan façade led to a lush, green canopy in the back yard with gardens filled with tropical flowers, a two-story waterfall that filled an Olympic-sized pool, and patio groupings that circled around an outdoor kitchen. There were ten bedrooms with en-suite baths, a study, two living areas, and a kitchen that rivaled that of any restaurant in Europe. The kitchen boasted a walk-in refrigerator and a mammoth gas stove with eight burners. A formal dining area annexed a breakfast room and there was an attached, but separated quarters for the employees. In the basement of the house was a home theatre, and a gymnasium including a basketball court and a shooting range. The color scheme was pastel and light, giving the occupant the illusion that he or she was floating on an ocean of sand.
The agent was rattling off features. The house was to be sold complete with furnishings but Arran waved his hand at that.
“We will have our own furnishings,” he said bluntly and Gabrielle looked at the oil paintings on the wall with regretful longing.
As a child who was moved around, she always longed to be surrounded by beautiful things that belonged to her and the idea that these works of art would go to waste seemed like her dream had just sailed by.
The agent, believing she had a live buyer, began to press Arran for his opinion.
“We shall reflect upon it. What else have you to show us?”
This put the agent off her mark a bit.
“Perhaps you could tell me what you don’t like as much about this house?”
“I’m looking for more house and more privacy,” he said succinctly.
She nodded and then her eyes brightened. “Let me make a quick call,” she told him and went into the next room.
“And what are your feelings on this place, Gabrielle?” he put her on the spot.
“I think it’s a lot of bedrooms if you intend to have considerable company, but I took you for more of a loner, so maybe they’re a waste of space?”
“Exactly. See, my Gabrielle? You already understand me so well.”
“Sheikh! I’ve got just the place,” came the agent’s voice as she approached. “Please, if you will follow me?”
As they exited the house, Gabrielle began to snap photos using her phone, most especially of the artwork. The sheikh’s raised eyebrows caused her to say, “Just for reference later on,” and he nodded, accepting her explanation. He couldn’t help but notice that she focused on the art, however, and this told him considerably more about the type of things she coveted.
They approached the next listing on the home tour and, unlike the first, it could be described as more of a compound. Its grounds and entrance were fenced with tall wire gates and they could not enter the grounds until the agent had checked in with a guard who was on duty. He activated the gates to open and the two vehicles proceeded inside.
At that point, the world of Las Vegas disappeared behind them as acre upon acre of green grass, trees, bushes, flowers, and water features opened before them. Peacocks strolled the grounds and swans whiled away their time in ponds that dotted the grounds. Small fountains showered the ponds and there was an impression of Eden as trees bearing fruit stood sentry in rows. The property felt more like an Italian villa and indeed, once the house came into view, that impression was underscored.
The house was more of a series of small villas, tied together by a central courtyard. In the center of the courtyard lay a magnificent pool shaped to mimic the courtyard boundaries. Ancillary fountains burst and were central to small conversational groupings of furniture and flowers. Here, there was also an outdoor kitchen and a bath house, but perhaps the nicest feature was the aquarium wall that met with the pool. Swimmers could paddle around on one side while watching sea life do the same on the opposite, saltwater side. Seats and a bar were mounted into the pool’s floor to accommodate guests who wanted to anchor themselves somewhat and relax while observing the life inside.
Each of the conversation areas contained a cabana roof with flat screen televisions and surround sound systems. Upholstered lounges and sofas were custom designed like puzzle pieces to fit together at will. It was essentially an area where one could virtually live without ever going indoors.
This was only a prelude, however, to the interior of the house. This one was far more to Gabrielle’s taste. It could have been considered rustic Italian with a French influence in the colors and patterns. It was inviting and comfortably furnished with windows placed to take advantage of the green space that had been developed on the outside. Each individual suite offered just about the same accommodations. The concept was that occupants could sleep in their bedroom, but join the household in the central rooms and outdoors for the remainder of their day. Privacy with still a sense of inclusion was how it felt to Gabrielle. This house had all the amenities of the first, but was far larger, yet cozier and welcoming—even with its increased security.
Arran was watching her face and he could tell she liked this one. “Gabrielle, if
you would wait in the car for me?” he nodded toward the door. She was surprised. She thought it was perfect for him, but did as she was asked.
Alahan stayed inside so she sat in the back seat with only the driver in the Rolls. Arran came out promptly and slid into the seat next to her.
As they pulled away, she looked over her shoulder. It had been such a pleasant break to visit a little paradise oasis in the middle of the desert.
“What did you think, Gabrielle?” he asked politely.
“Well, to tell you the truth, I’m a little surprised. I thought it was perfect for you.”
“Good. We move in tomorrow.”
“What? You mean you want it?”
“The transaction is complete. I shall have someone come up this evening with luggage and pack your wardrobe. Please give them the address of your apartment that they might pack up your things there as well. I will settle the remainder of your lease personally.”
He was looking straight ahead as he said this. Gabrielle was thrilled. In her enthusiasm, she cried out, “I can’t believe it!” and spontaneously hugged him. She pulled back quickly, realizing she stepped over the employer / employee line. “Oh, I’m sorry. I was just happy was all,” she apologized.
“You are happy, I am happy,” he summed it up and patted her hand on the seat.
“Wait a minute,” she said, realizing what he was saying. “I’m want to make sure I understand what’s going on here. You and I will be living together?”
“Yes, and Alahan and Serra, and most likely a half dozen other servants. You will have your own villa there, my little straight-laced Gabrielle. Your proprieties will be respected, rest assured.” He was grinning and his white teeth stood out starkly against his black moustache and full lips. Gabrielle had the incredible desire to kiss those lips, but knew that much affection was entirely out of the question.
Chapter Five
As promised, Gabrielle answered her door to find an attendant with a luggage cart piled high with Louis Vuitton cases. Behind him stood two women in neat maid outfits smiling. “We’re here to pack you up, Miss,” said one in a very British accent. Gabrielle nodded and stood back to let them in. She felt a bit awkward and didn’t know whether she should sit nearby on the bed and keep an eye on them, or leave the room so they could work unsupervised. She reasoned that Arran wouldn’t have sent anyone he didn’t trust so she grabbed her bag and headed downstairs to the restaurant to have some dinner.
She had no sooner ordered when a shadow appeared next to her. She looked up and saw Carl Smithers, grinning with his sallow face and rotted teeth. “Leave me alone!” she cried out, edging back against the wall in the booth. No more were the words out of her mouth than Carl’s expression changed suddenly as he found his arms twisted back in a firm hold and he was being propelled out the room by a very stern and very capable Serra.
A few moments later Serra was back. “You are unharmed?” she asked with minimal emotion.
“I’m fine, but I never saw you.”
“Yes, Miss, that’s the idea. I watch but you will appear unaccompanied. This way you maintain your privacy but I will still be sure you are safe.”
Gabrielle’s meal arrived then and Serra gave a short bow and backed away, as if from a throne. Gabrielle felt foolish for having over-reacted, but it had been instinctive. She picked up her fork and began to eat when suddenly there was a new shadow at her side and she looked up to see Arran.
“May I sit down?” he asked politely, even as he slid into the opposite side of the booth. He motioned to the waitress, pointing to Gabrielle’s dinner and was immediately served the identical meal.
“I understand you have a bothersome fly,” he said by way of opening conversation.
Well, it didn’t take Serra long to report in, she thought.
“A fly is a good description, actually. He won’t bother me, though. He’s a coward.”
“Stupidity and cowardice are often lethal combinations,” he commented, picking up the hot sauce on the table and adding it to his plate. “American food…” he muttered.
Gabrielle watched him and smiled to herself as she resumed eating. “Don’t worry, Serra swatted him away,” she reassured him.
“Perhaps it would be better if the fly suddenly found its life shortened,” he offered again and this made Gabrielle shiver.
“No. I don’t even want to hear a mention of something like that again. It’s wrong, no matter how bad a person is.” Her voice was stern and her opinion fixed.
“Very well. As you wish. In my country…” he began and she cut him off.
“This isn’t your country,” she reminded him. “Here, we have laws against that sort of thing.”
“Indeed?” Arran looked at her. “It may interest you to know that some of the most notorious assassinations in history were orchestrated by the people in your country.”
“I don’t want to argue over this. He may be an ass, but I won’t have anything like that on my conscience. Give me your word, Arran.” She looked up at him but he continued to eat as if nothing had been said. “Give me your word,” she repeated in short syllables.
He nodded and that was as good as she was going to get. He finished his dinner and was wiping at his moustache. “Please meet me in the bar when you’ve finished.” With this, he left.
Gabrielle began to wonder what she’d gotten herself into. She finished her dinner and went off to find Arran. He was sitting on his normal stool. This time, she took the one next to him.
“Your dinner was agreeable?” he asked, looking into her eyes. She realized this was the closest she’d ever sat to him. She nodded. “You have very unusual eyes, Gabrielle,” he said, his voice intimate in tone.
“Not sure how to answer that… thank you?”
“Indeed, it was a compliment. You are quite lovely.”
Gabrielle lapsed into an awkward silence, waiting for him to fill her in on what he wanted to talk about.
“The staff arrived to pack your things?” he confirmed.
“Yes, they were doing it as I left for dinner. I left them with my apartment key and address as well, as you told me to.”
“Very good. Tomorrow I would like you to drive your car to our compound early in the morning. You shall have your pick of the suites; just direct the workers to take your things where you’d like them. Take the day to get settled in and in the evening, I’d like you to join me for dinner.”
Gabrielle nodded. “That’s no problem. Then I’ll see you tomorrow. How will I get in through the gates?”
“The security code is your birthdate.”
“My birthdate? How do you know what that is?” Gabrielle felt her privacy had been invaded.
“Do you believe I would ask you to be my assistant without some kind of background information? Surely, even after our brief acquaintance, you can tell I’m a thorough man.”
“What I believe is that you should have asked my permission before doing it. You had no right to check out anything about me until I agreed to come to work for you. Then, by all means, have me fill out a form; let me fill in the details. But at least get my permission. I’m not sure that what you did is even legal.”
“Why so alarmed, Gabrielle? You have nothing to hide, remember?”
“That doesn’t justify disrespecting my right to privacy. What else did you check out? My medical history? How often I’ve been to the dentist? Parking tickets?”
“You’re completely healthy, have an allergy to penicillin and have one filling in your third molar, right side. No parking tickets.” His voice was dead calm and Gabrielle began to get a chilled feeling about what she’d gotten into. He had everything there was to know about her.
“I don’t like this. It’s not what I bargained for.” She looked around and spotted Ben. “Ben, have you filled my job yet?” she called out, motioning to him.
Ben shook his head. “Not yet.”
“Good, because I’m back. I’ve changed my mind about my career advanc
ement. Sheikh, if you don’t mind, please give me back my key to my apartment and ask them not to touch anything there. You have everything you’ve given me. I paid for my dinner out of my own money. I’m giving you notice immediately. Thank you and goodbye,” she finished and slid off the stool. Holding out her hand she said, “The key, please?”
Arran could feel a flush coming over him. He wasn’t certain whether it was anger or fear of losing her, but he knew now was not the time to define it. He reached into his pocket and handed her the key. “You have my apologies and I welcome you to change your mind.”
Gabrielle pocketed the key and nodded, but left the bar. She went up to her room and found everything neatly aligned and waiting for transport. She managed to isolate her own belongings and called downstairs for a bus boy and cart. Together they carted everything down to Gabrielle’s car and packed it tightly enough that the trunk lid would shut.
She had changed into her work uniform and went back inside to begin a shift. She didn’t get twenty feet before Carl was blocking her path. “Going to work?” he asked her and her skin crawled.
“Get out of my way,” she growled and looked toward a plain clothes security officer of the hotel. He came close and she said, “This man is accosting me,” in a cold, calculating voice. The security officer advanced on Carl, but he’d already turned and was headed out the door. “Thank you,” Gabrielle told the guard and headed back into the bar.
Arran’s stool was empty and Alahan was nowhere in sight.
Gabrielle worked her shift and there had been no further sign of Carl. Exhausted, she walked out of the hotel and found Serra standing under the portico, next to the red Ferrari. “Sheikh Muhalla asked me to meet you,” she said politely. “He has asked me to tell you that he expects you at the compound tomorrow morning, as scheduled. He said you may continue to live where you prefer, but he will not release you from his employ.”
Gabrielle opened her mouth to protest when she spotted Carl standing off to one side in the shade of some hedges. Fear shot through her. “Tell Sheikh Muhalla I will be there on time,” she said abruptly and climbed into the waiting car.