Bought For One Night: The Sheikh's Offer (6 page)

“Why can’t you talk to anyone?” I asked, curious. “What about your parents?” I thought about my mom back home in Montana, and how even though we didn’t talk as much as we used to, I could always call her for any reason and know she was there for me—even if I was the one who screwed up.

Zane’s eyes dropped, and he cleared his throat uncomfortably. “My, uh, my parents were killed in a car accident ten years ago. Their driver lost control after the car swerved around a broken-down truck on the highway.”

“Oh, Zane, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up such a painful memory.”

He shook his head. “It’s easy to find on an internet search, it’s not a secret, and it’s been a long time. But that’s why I’ve gotten used to keeping things to myself. The two people I would talk to haven’t been around to listen. I was only able to learn so much from my father before he was gone; most of this I’m figuring out for myself as I go along.”

“That must be so hard,” I said quietly. “To carry all this by yourself.”

“Some days, yes,” he agreed. “Some days the weight is so heavy that it’s difficult to get out of bed and face it.”

Before I could stop myself, I replied, “I know that feeling all too well.”

Zane met my eyes with sadness in his own. “I don’t want you to feel that way.”

I smiled. “Well, I don’t want
you
to feel that way.”

He didn’t reply. He only smiled softly and ran his gaze over my face.

The movie ending interrupted us and broke the moment. Zane cleared his throat and got up to arrange the next screening, insisting we return to a film from my back catalogue, and I didn’t argue with him.

This visit was nothing like I’d expected. I was still shocked by the fact that Zane didn’t seem to have any interest in trying to seduce me, even though he was clearly attracted to me. The attraction was mutual, and I’m sure he could tell. It was hard to keep my eyes off him, especially whenever he gave me that charming smile that made his whole face light up.

I’d met a few members of royalty over the years, but none of them had been anything like Zane. Most of them were so out-of-touch that being able to connect on a human level seemed impossible. There was none of that in Zane, and no difference between the way he interacted with me, his staff, or the gaggle of children that had been in the kitchen. He gave everyone his full attention when they spoke to him, and he treated them with cordial respect in return. It was easy to see why he was popular not only with his staff, but with the people in his country. He was charming, gracious, generous and sweet.

He had never intended to fly me out to Al-Dali with hopes of having me in his bed. He really was just looking for connection, for someone to share an appreciation for the things he did, and understand what it was like to be lonely and successful. I hadn’t expected to have anything in common with the monarch of a country half a world from home, but I was dead wrong. The more time I spent with Zane, the more I wanted to spend with him. I was more comfortable with him than I had been with anyone in a very long time.

Zane returned to sit next to me after arranging the next few movies with the projectionist, this time carrying a bottle of wine and two glasses with him. He introduced the vintage as being from Al-Dali, something from his own vineyards. The wine was sweet and succulent, an unexpected treat, and a far cry from the dry Italian wines everyone in LA seemed to enjoy so much.

Hours flew by, liberated by wine, conversation, and the constant rolling of movies for us to enjoy together. Zane told me stories about growing up in the palace as the rambunctious only child of the royal family, and I shared my experiences of moving from middle-of-nowhere Montana to the big city in order to become a movie star before I was even old enough to drive.

Pretty soon, we got too tired and tipsy to keep talking, and instead sat back in our comfortable chairs to enjoy the movies playing in front of us. The last thing I remembered was my head resting on Zane’s shoulder as we fell asleep in front of the screen.

TEN

“Your Highness. Miss Wood…”

The soft call pulled me out of sleep. Immediately, my muscles began to complain from the strange positions they had been in all night, especially my neck. It took me a minute to get my bearings, but slowly I remembered where I was, and memories from the night before were quick to flood back; images of laughing, talking, and learning about Zane flickered behind my eyelids.

Next to me, he moaned a little, having a bit of a harder time waking up. He yawned and stretched his strong arms out in front of him as his eyes blinked open. We both looked up at the voice to see Shara, one of his trusted entourage, smiling gently as she stood over us in our reclining theater seats. Her suit today was a cobalt blue, as impeccably tailored and put together as the one she had been wearing the day before.

“Good morning,” she said to us once our eyes were opened enough to look at her properly.

“Good morning, Shara,” replied Zane in a tired voice. “What time is it? Did we sleep here?” He turned to me and his face softened.

“I guess so,” I said with a little laugh, running a hand through my disastrous, sleep-ruined hair. A bit of a flush spread on my cheeks. “We must have stayed up later than we thought; it’s hard to tell the time in here.”

Shara leaned down. “Your Highness, I’m sorry to bother you, but the day is already in full swing. As you previously requested, Miss Wood’s return flight home is scheduled to depart in an hour.”

The news was unpleasant, and Zane and I looked at each other with surprised, sad faces.

“Wow, already?” I asked. “This is the end of my visit? I can’t believe how quickly it flew by.”

“Me either,” Zane agreed sadly. “I didn’t mean for us to stay up the entire night watching movies; I had some other plans for us while you were here.” He glanced at the gold watch on his wrist. “I can’t remember the last time I slept in so late.”

“It has been years, Your Highness,” Shara informed him with a laugh. To me, she said, “His Highness typically has a strict schedule that begins before sunrise.”

Zane turned back to me with expectation on his face. I felt the same anticipation in my chest, but didn’t know what to do about it. We had made a signed contractual agreement about this visit. I would spend twenty-four hours with him, and he was to send me a million dollars; the timer on my twenty-four hours was almost up.

So why didn’t I want to leave and head back home? The job was finished, my pay was secured, and without even having to deal with an awkward refusal of sexual favors. This was exactly the best-case scenario I had been too afraid to hope for. And yet, it wasn't enough. Something about it was terribly unsatisfying, like seeing a fresh-baked chocolate cake and being offered only a spoonful of frosting.

“I guess we had better gather your things and get you ready to go,” said Zane as he moved to get up from his chair. Both of us had stiff, angry muscles from the night in the recliner, and we laughed as we groaned like grumpy old men, trying to stretch them out.

“Shara, tell the driver to be ready and the pilot that we’ll be on time. I’m going to walk Julianne to her room and help her with her luggage. We’ll meet you out front,” said Zane to his assistant.

Shara nodded and turned to leave the room, clutching her ever-present planner in her arms.

Zane offered me his arm as he walked me through the palace hallways back to the luxurious bedroom I had never even gotten the chance to use. My luggage had been placed neatly at the foot of the bed, untouched since it left the trunk of the taxi. I checked all the zippers were still closed, deciding I didn’t have time to change or try to clean myself up before the flight. It didn’t matter, anyway. I had a full bedroom on the jet, and no one to impress on the flight home.

Besides, I didn't feel much like making myself glamorous this morning. There was a heavy gloom over my heart that was all the more upsetting because it was so unexpected. I'd had a genuinely fun night with Zane—a rare event in my life, especially lately. Men were a puzzle I could never solve, and I didn't have time to if I wanted my already-struggling career to stay afloat. They angered me, confounded me, hurt me, always carrying more baggage in than they were willing to shoulder themselves. I was tired of feeling like I had to be a background character in someone else's life movie. It made me like a pawn, a plot device to get from one place to the other.

Zane was the first man in a long time to have shown me actual kindness while expecting nothing in return. He was willing to reward me, and make my life better, just for the chance to spend time with me. He wasn't threatened by my success, and how could he be? He had more power than anyone I would ever know, which left him free to show me support and interest that no other man had.

He actually cared about me, and as I gathered up my luggage to leave, I realized I cared about him, too. Royalty or not, Zane was a good man. He didn't deserve to be lonely. I imagined him wandering the palace halls, sad but having no one to talk to about it, and it broke my heart.

I came out of the bedroom with my luggage and a flat smile. I found it hard to look in Zane’s eyes at that moment; it felt too uncomfortable—painful, almost.

“Well,” he said, shoving his hands awkwardly in his pockets. “Thank you again for coming, Julianne. I can’t tell you what your visit meant to me. I’m very happy you accepted. Did you have a pleasant time?”

I nodded. “I did, thank you. It was the best time I’ve had in a long while.” I sighed. “Life’s kind of been on a downslope since my ex cheated on me. This trip reminded me that not everyone in the world is out to steal everything for himself. I really needed to remember that… thank you, Zane.”

The Sheikh flushed a little in the cheeks, and gave me a shy, unexpected smile. “I’m glad I could make you happy, even if it was just for a day. I’ll make sure Shara sends your payment safely to you as soon as you’re in the air.”

Heavy silence filled the air between us. I could hear in the distance the sound of the security guards chattering to each other, making the last preparations for my journey to the airport. Some deep instinct welled up in my heart. It wanted me to take another risk.

“You know,” I said before I lost my nerve. “I was thinking… Are you incredibly busy today? I mean, you’re probably busy every day, but—”

“No, not particularly,” interrupted Zane, with hope in his voice.

I shrugged. “It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if I grabbed a later flight back to LA. I don’t have anyone waiting for me when I get home, and no jobs are going to pop up anytime soon. What’s the harm in leaving a little bit later?”

A dazzling grin spread over Zane’s face. “Really? Are you sure? I would love to have you here for the afternoon, so long as you’re sure it won’t upset your plans. I really wanted to show you around the city.”

“I’m sure,” I nodded, smiling. “And that sounds great, I would hate to leave this place before I even got a chance to see it a little.”

“Excellent. I’ll tell the staff.” He pointed back to the bedroom. “I suppose, in that case, we should both get freshened up. I’ll tell Shara to have everything prepared for us.”

“That sounds wonderful!”

“Good. I’ll send for you in two hours. Let my staff know if you need anything at all.” He bent and grasped my hand, kissing it gently. I flushed slightly as he winked at me and strode down the hallway to find Shara, a spring in his step.

ELEVEN

Given the chance to explore the lavish bedroom I was staying in was an extra treat. The bathroom alone was nicer than any I had ever been in, full of gorgeous gilded details and accents in vivid coral. A huge window opened up to a courtyard full of lush plants and the calls of peacocks that strutted fearlessly around the palace grounds. I stood under the hot water in the shower and felt the tension I had been carrying wash off my body, down the drain.

Taking another risk felt wonderful. Not only the risk to come here and meet Zane in the first place, but to delay my departure and spend more time with him. Some instinct was stirring in my heart, and the urge to follow it was almost overwhelming. It was the same urge I had felt to move to LA and try to make it as an actress. Whatever one wanted to call it, following this feeling had always gifted me with positive results, even if they came with a lot of hard work first.

What Jack did to me had made me afraid to trust my gut for a time. How could I, when I failed to see the horrible man he was all these years? Rattling my confidence was the least of what he did. It was a frightening prospect to suddenly not trust your own mind or decisions, to know you had let danger so close to you.

I was trying to listen to my gut again, and find trust in my instincts. My first big test had been accepting the proposal Katherine brought from Zane. And the second test had been moments earlier, in the hallway, when I refused to leave before I was ready.

I wanted to spend more time with Zane. Things felt better here; they felt right. Maybe it was strange that I was finding comfort halfway around the world, but I didn't care. Comfort had been in short supply lately, and I was going to get as much of it as I could.

Lightness replaced the dread that had weighed my heart earlier. I hummed to myself as I scrunched up my wavy hair in a towel, letting it air-dry so that the heat of the desert wouldn't hold so hard against my scalp. I was all smiles leaning into the gold-edged mirrors as I did my makeup to bring out the green of my eyes and brightness of my hair and skin. I pulled out a cute yellow sundress from my luggage and matched it with nude-colored gladiator sandals. Coupled with a small clutch purse and my sunhat, I was ready for a tour of Al-Dali.

Zane met me at the front entrance of the palace. He had showered, too, and had shaved, his dark beard meticulously edged and groomed. Whatever product he put in his hair was perfect for it, sculpting a beautiful wave that looked soft and kept its shape. Over his strong frame, he wore a crisp white button-up shirt and loose pants of dark tan. The outfit was dashing, and would help keep him cool in during the hot day. He smiled at me from behind dark sunglasses; I could feel his gaze ghosting over me anyway.

“You look stunning,” said Zane as he kissed my hand. “That color is very becoming on you.”

“You don't look too bad yourself,” I replied with a small curtsey. “You could be in the movies, you know.”

“There's no need to flatter me,” he said, waving a hand dismissively.

“I'm serious. You have the looks for it,” I promised. “The ladies would eat you alive.”

Zane laughed self-consciously and ran a hand through his hair. “Well, I won't pretend I haven't had fantasies of being a great actor. But I think, if anything, I'm better suited to being a director.”

“Oh?” I asked, locking my arm in his elbow as he led us down to the waiting car. “Why is that?”

Zane shrugged. “Maybe it's all the education on ruling I received my whole life. I'm very good at understanding people and getting them to contribute their best talents to a project. Really, that's what ruling is about. The rest is details.”

“That's not a bad point,” I agreed.

“Maybe someday I’ll be able to find some time for that dream.”

I smiled at him. “I really hope you do.”

Zane helped me into the back of the limo before he climbed in behind me. In the comfort of the air-conditioned car, he sent the driver on a winding tour of the city, to introduce me to at least the surface of his culture.

The driver dropped us off at the grand bazaar, a place where shopkeepers and consumers descended every morning to buy and sell goods in one of the oldest and largest marketplaces in the world. Even though the digital age was alive and well, and vendors were using the latest payment technologies on smartphones and credit cards, the marketplace still took place within the same sprawling stone structure it had occupied for the last thousand years.

People recognized Zane and descended on us with smiles and hand-shakes, and though I didn't speak the language, it was clear they were paying him honors and compliments when they spoke to him. Vendors tried over and over to give him free merchandise, free food, free favors, but he refused every time and instead passed the gift onto someone else in the crowd who probably needed it more. When he caught me lingering at one of the scarf merchants, Zane insisted on buying me whatever I wanted, and I left with a bagful of fantastic new fashion accessories that no one else in Hollywood would have.

It was clear that Zane was beloved by the people of Al-Dali. Even though he said his grandfather was a bit of a violent man, his own father was not, and I was sure he would have been very proud of his son. Zane truly loved his people, and didn't show an ounce of elitism or distance in spending time with them.

The crowd was pretty excited to see me, too, and it was a lovely surprise. I still couldn't believe I had so much popularity in a country I knew almost nothing about, but every few feet there came a request for an autograph or photo, or a sweet old merchant offering me something and calling me beautiful. It had been a long time since I’d experienced moments like this in Los Angeles; my last big film premiere was almost a year ago. There was nothing like the rush of an adoring crowd, and it recharged me.

After the bazaar, the limo led us out of the city limits to an archaeological site, an ancient temple, one of the oldest ruins in the country. Under the blazing sun, we listened to one of the professors who worked on the site as he explained the importance of its survival. We wandered under great stone columns, sculptures of fantastic beasts, and murals of kings and cities that had been buried in the desert sand long ago. It was difficult not to be overcome by awe standing in such a place. As Zane had pointed out, my predecessors were the originators of cinema, but I didn’t have centuries of ancestors to worry about disappointing, the way he did. He knew almost as much about the ruins as the professor; Zane clearly respected his roots. It made me feel a bit silly for not even remembering the names of all the US Presidents.

Once we had explored the temple, Zane wanted me to see the modern Al-Dali, too, and decided the best place to do that was its science center and conservatory. Tucked in the middle of the bustling downtown metropolis, it was a sleek modern building that housed a natural history museum, aquarium, astrological observatory, and botanical garden. It ran entirely on green energy, with solar panels and a rooftop garden that visitors could access. Even though it was a weekday, the place was bustling with activity, including several groups of schoolkids on field trips.

The sprawling complex was more high-tech than anything I had seen in LA or New York. As well as being one of the main funders of the non-profit organization behind the center, Zane explained that he had assisted in selecting its board of directors, making sure to hire the best and brightest minds in their fields and paying them what they were worth. He wanted to make a serious investment in Al-Dali's future, and educating its children, he maintained, was the best way of doing that.

Every new thing I learned about Zane only made him more attractive. I knew guys who had charm and talent and who gave to charity, but Zane was literally building the future of his country one step at a time. Hollywood men weren’t even close to that level of selflessness.

As the day went on and hunger finally overcame the excitement of tourism, Zane was all too happy to take me to one of his favorite restaurants in the city. It was a small place that I would have called a mom-and-pop-shop had we been in the US.

The owner, a short, elderly man with a wrinkled face, was delighted to see Zane and spoke to him with some familiarity. Zane didn't hesitate in embracing him like an old friend, and we were directed to a dark booth in the back of the small restaurant, the most private place he could provide. Zane's security took up nearby locales, but the place was mostly empty. The handful of diners that did share the space with us were trying not to stare at the famous dining party in the back. I saw a fair share of smartphones being raised as people tried to get pictures of us, but decided I didn’t really care. I was happy being out with Zane, and there was no reason to hide it.

“I love coming here,” Zane said with a smile as he placed his napkin in his lap. “It's been too long since I've gotten away from the palace for a meal in the city.”

“I'm sure it's difficult considering your chef can make you basically anything you want, and you don't even have to get out of your pajamas,” I joked.

Zane chuckled. “That's true. But as talented as my chefs are, there is no way to duplicate another person's special recipes, and this place has some of the most special flavors in Al-Dali. I keep trying to convince the owner to come work for me so I can have his food all to myself, but he will never accept my offer.”

“Why’s that?”

“He says he likes his life the way it is. He just keeps his little restaurant and spends the evenings with his wife and grandchildren.”

It was a sweet answer. “I can’t say I blame him. That sounds really lovely.”

“Exactly, how can I try to talk a man out of that?” agreed Zane. “So instead I just visit here as often as possible and recommend it to everyone I can. That way, he can keep saving for retirement so he can hire someone else to run this place and be with his family all the time.”

I looked at him and felt my heart warm. “You’re really an amazing guy, you know that?”

Zane shook his head bashfully, his cheeks turning a flushed red. “I’m not. Just a hungry one.”

I let him rest in his humility and gave him a flirty nudge with my shoulder instead. Zane returned it playfully, making us both smile.

I unfolded the menu before me, and realized quickly that I was in a bit of a pickle. With an embarrassed smile, I leaned over to Zane and said, “I think I'm going to need your help.”

He looked over, ready to ask me why, but one glance at the menu did the trick. The entire thing was written in his native tongue, a language I didn't speak or read.

“Yes, I guess that would be a problem,” he laughed.

“I only ever learned high school French,” I told him with a giggle.

Zane put his menu down and leaned closer to me, putting one arm around the back of the booth. “I can help you. Let's start with what you're in the mood to eat. Something heavy, or light? Maybe some soup?”

“Are you kidding? This was a long day out in the sun. I'm starving. Give me something full of meat and spices.”

He laughed and nodded approvingly. With his other hand, he pointed at one of the menu items. “This is what you want. It's called
mansaf
; basically it is a dish of rice and lamb with flatbread. The spices are quite delicious, and the meat will melt on your tongue.”

Though the meal sounded plenty delicious, I was distracted by how close Zane's body was to mine, and the smell of his cologne. We had spent such a wonderful day together, and as we sat together, something felt shifted and different between us.

I let Zane order the meal he had suggested for me, and the old man brought out a beautiful antique tea service with steaming water and a selection of choices for us to enjoy while we waited for our food. The tea was incredibly soothing after the long, exciting day.

“I'm so glad we were able to extend my stay,” I told Zane with a soft grin. “It feels like a thousand years since I went out and had a good day for no reason, especially with company like yours. I needed this, thank you.”

Zane seem surprised. His full lips curled at one end. “That doesn't sound good. Why haven't you had good days lately?”

I didn't want to burden Zane with my problems, but as I stared into his dark eyes, I couldn't deny the empathy and sincere feeling of concern I found in them. His gaze was like a tractor beam, and he had me in his pull.