Seduced by the Sheik Page 3

  Damn it!

  “Thank you,” she replied, then shifted, crossing her legs and pulling a notebook out of her bag.

  When she bent like that, his eyes automatically watched and he caught a glimpse of…shadows! Damn it, he hated that conservative shirt. It wasn’t as if it hid anything. The material cupped her full breasts, showing him exactly what he was missing.

  “As I was saying, these questions are important and I promise not to reveal any of this information outside of the palace. Your privacy is very important to me.”

  She clicked her pen and looked down, the overhead light setting off sparks of light in her soft, blond hair. “So, do these girls have any other siblings?”

  “No.”

  She wrote something on her notebook, then looked up at him. “And their age?”

  “Five.”

  She blinked and wrote his answer down.

  “Any other family members here?”

  “My two younger brothers and my sister all live here at the palace as well.”

  He watched as she gave him another of those pretty blinks, then her lips curled up into a smile. Instantly, his body tightened all over again.

  Tilting her head, he watched as a wisp of blond hair shifted with her movement. “Did one of your brothers meet me at the airport yesterday?” she asked.

  He shrugged, not sure where this was heading. “Yes. Gaelen did. He’s eighteen months younger than I am and Minister of Defense here in Izara. Why?”

  She laughed softly and the sound soothed over his temper, easing it ever so slightly.

  When she looked up at him, those startling blue eyes had hidden depths of amusement. “I got off the plane yesterday and…by the way, thank you for the flight. I might have been exhausted and out of sorts yesterday, but the flight on that lovely plane was truly wonderful.”

  “My pleasure. We wanted you here quickly and flying you on a private plane was the fastest way.”

  She nodded, then looked down at that notebook again while his eyes moved over her sparkling hair, wondering how long it was. He remembered it spread out over the pillow last night when he’d gone to her suite to talk to her, but because it had been behind her, he wasn’t sure if it went just to her shoulders or if the beautiful tresses fell down her back.

  “How did the girls’ parents pass away?”

  That question pulled his mind back to the present and he gritted his teeth against the fury that still boiled right under the surface.

  “My sister married an…” he stopped before he added “asshole” to that explanation. “A man that enjoyed adventure. They were speeding through the Italian Alps and my brother-in-law lost control of his car. Their car ran into a cliff. My sister and her husband died on impact.”

  The compassion in those blue eyes did something to him. Her heart-shaped face was lovely, but those eyes…! There was just something about them that eased the anger slightly and he absorbed it. The tension in his shoulders relaxed, although the anger still simmered.

  “That’s horrible,” she replied. “Not just for your nieces, but for you and your whole family.”

  Her words startled him. The press had been so absorbed in talking about how his nieces were handling the death of their parents, no one had ever stopped to wonder how he was dealing with the loss of his sister. Or how his siblings were handling their grief. No one had asked, so it was actually easier for them to maintain their stoic expressions.

  “Thank you,” he replied, then cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. He was both soothed and discomfited by her perceptive gaze. “What else?”

  She looked down at her paper. “Well, I have many other questions, but perhaps it would be best if I met your nieces now. I’m sure that I’ll have many more questions later.”

  He nodded, but didn’t rise from his desk. He needed a moment.

  That had been a mistake.

  Those blue eyes seemed to notice everything. Her head tilted slightly, her lips pressed together and she paused for a long moment. “If you don’t mind me asking, how are you doing?”

  Those full lips weren’t tight with disapproval. And her eyes didn’t contain the pity that he hated so much. Instead, he saw only curiosity.

  “I’m fine,” he replied automatically.

  Her eyes dropped to his hands and Amit realized that he’d curled his fingers into such a tight fist that he’d broken the pencil in half.

  “I see,” she replied, but didn’t say anymore.

  Tossing the pencil onto his desk, Amit stood up abruptly. “I’ll take you to the nursery now,” and he walked towards the door to his office, assuming she’d follow. He heard her scrambling behind him and, normally he’d keep going and let the other person catch up. His daily schedule was painfully tight with someone always needing “just a moment” of his time. Amit disdained any waste of his precious day, but for some strange reason, he turned and waited, his hand resting on the doorknob.

  Ten minutes later, Harper watched in stupefaction as two little girls, almost identical with their dark hair and creamy skin and huge dark eyes, politely stood up from their desks and formally bowed to the enormous man standing next to her.

  In response, “His Highness” bowed right back and with equal formality. “Ellora, Elsa, I’d like to introduce you to Doctor Ross. She is here to observe for a few days. I hope that both of you will be on your best behavior.”

  Harper almost choked. These were five year old girls, weren’t they? And yet, they looked almost frail, their hazel eyes huge in their small, gaunt faces. Were they eating? Were they sleeping well? She wasn’t sure, but their dual stoic expressions told her that they weren’t thriving.

  “Thank you,” she replied. She wanted to punch him, but that wouldn’t establish herself a good role model. Still, she was furious that the man hadn’t bent down on one knee and given each of them a gentle hug and perhaps a few words of encouragement. Hell, he should be doing that five or six times a day! He should be carrying them around in those huge arms of his, showing them that he understood their pain and shared it!

  Ugh! Men!

  In acknowledgement, he tilted his head slightly. “Feel free to stay as long as you need with the girls. I expect a report from you on your plan of action over dinner tonight.”

  With that, he left, leaving Harper to gape at his retreating back.

  But he didn’t feel her anger or shock. Instead, the formidably tall man simply left the nursery without showing any affection towards his nieces, both of whom stared after him with achingly blank expressions on their small faces.

  “Let us get back to our lessons, Your Highnesses,” a new voice called out.

  Harper turned to discover another woman, about thirty years Harper’s senior, herding the two girls away from the door and back to their desks. “Okay, what were we discussing before that delightful interruption?” the older woman asked.

  Both girls stared silently at the woman.

  Their tutor seemed oblivious to their silence and simply continued with her cheery instruction. “We were talking about the various animals in the world. So how about if we…” and she started in on a lecture about the sizes and speeds of the big cats in Africa.

  Harper didn’t want to interrupt, despite her surprise at the subject matter. These two small girls should be working on their large motor skills. They were five years old and should be on the floor playing with blocks or some other sort of toy. Not sitting through tedious lecture-style lessons. Even adults struggled with this style of learning.

  And yet, Harper didn’t interrupt. Instead, she sat in the back of the room and took notes. The room was dull and colorless, obviously professionally decorated, but not with colors that might inspire learning. It had words on the walls, but there were very few toys. The girls’ lessons segued from animals to foreign languages. Harper had no issues with this sort of lesson. She knew that small children soaked up different languages like sponges. These two already spoke English perfectly, apparent
ly, in addition to their native Arabic, plus they were also learning Spanish and French. Fascinating!

  Next, the girls worked on arithmetic and had a spelling lesson in which they were required to write down the words the tutor recited to them. Harper would have thought that children this young couldn’t even write! A glance at their letters proved that she was correct. The letters were barely recognizable.

  After several hours of this, the girls were led off by their nanny for riding lessons. Harper thought that was sweet, even though she hated the idea of being near a horse. She’d seen the huge animals off in the distance, of course, but had no desire to get close. Harper watched as the girls were instructed by a patient trainer on sedately riding their horses around the corral. The girls didn’t show any more emotion on the horses than they had during their lessons.

  After their riding lesson, the girls showered and ate dinner alone with only their nanny for company. They were in bed by eight o’clock.

  Harper’s heart ached for the little girls that she suspected were lonely and desperate for attention from their relatives. But there was no interaction between these small princesses and their uncle or those mysterious siblings he’d mentioned.

  Chapter 3

  “You’re late,” a harsh male voice announced.

  Harper stiffened, then turned around slowly. She watched with astonishment as the man she’d grown to hate over the past several hours approached her, looking suave and sophisticated in a dark suit. It wasn’t a tuxedo, but was close enough, even though he’d left the neck open on his pristine white dress shirt.

  “Remember, he’s the boss,” she muttered softly to herself, clenching her fingers together in front of herself in an effort to restrain herself from punching him. It was hard because her heart ached for the two little girls that were currently sleeping all alone in a pale, bland room that had been beautifully decorated in pastel pink with white comforters over their identical, small beds.

  Sheik Amit al Raminar moved closer, those sharp, hazel eyes of his narrowing slightly at her muttered words. “What was that?”

  Harper’s fingernails dug into the skin on her hands. She knew that she should be respectful, but…!

  Blast respect, she thought, bristling with anger for her two small, desperately lonely charges. With a lift of her chin, she glared up at the man. “I was reminding myself that you are the boss here,” she told him, not bothering to hide her fury.

  He lifted a dark eyebrow as he poured himself something dark and tempting into a crystal glass. “Is that hard to remember?”

  She shrugged and took a deep, slow breath. “Your nieces are lovely.”

  “I know,” he replied, unbuttoning his jacket before sitting down in a large, leather chair. “I need to know why they aren’t talking. Why they are so silent and sad all the time.”

  Harper noticed he hadn’t invited her to sit down, which was a petty power play on his part. He also hadn’t offered her anything to drink. She wasn’t a big drinker, but there was just something irritating about the man and she wanted to push his buttons just as much as he was pushing hers. So she strolled over to the liquor table and poured herself a finger of the scotch, then sat down in the chair opposite him.

  Ignoring his raised eyebrow, she swirled the rich liquor in the glass. “I don’t have all of the information quite yet, but I suspect that your nieces are emulating you, Your Highness,” she explained.

  He chuckled as he looked at her over the rim of his glass as he took a long swallow of his drink. “Is that so?” He sipped, then lowered the glass. “I’m assuming by the glare that their efforts are a bad thing?”

  Harper sighed, rubbing her forehead. She realized suddenly that he wasn’t mocking her. He genuinely had no idea that his lack of affection was a bad thing. Many parents thought that offering affection and tenderness would make their children soft.

  Actually, the opposite was true. Studies consistently proved that children who are shown love and approval had an inner strength that was solid and powerful. They could go out into the world with confidence that, if something bad happened, they had a soft place to land.

  “It’s very bad, Your Highness. The girls are five years old. They just lost their parents a few months ago and they don’t understand the feelings that they are experiencing. They don’t have anyone with whom they can talk about their sadness. Their only present role models are their nanny or their tutor, both of whom are extremely efficient, but haven’t addressed their grief and confusion. You are their other role model, but you appear,” she stressed that word, “to be going on as if your sister’s death hadn’t happened.” She lifted a hand to stop his retort when his eyes turned hard and angry. “I say that you appear to be doing that, Your Highness. But I know that you’re grieving very deeply for your sister, just as they are. And I suspect that you don’t know how to deal with your grief either, so you pretend that it isn’t there even though it’s eating at you.”

  She watched with fascination as his lips thinned at her assertion. Sure enough, he completely denied that he was still grieving.

  “I’m fine, Doctor Harper.” He swirled his scotch, but didn’t take another sip. “You’re not here to assess my mental issues. You’re here to assess and assist my nieces.” Another angry swirl of his scotch. “And besides, my brothers and sister are here in the palace all day long. My nieces know that they can talk to any of us whenever they need to.”

  She smiled gently, her anger dissipating as she finally understood what was happening in this household. “Your Highness, your nieces have no idea how to talk to you. And as far as I can tell, your brothers and sister aren’t around. I haven’t seen them at…” she paused. “Wait. No, that’s not true. Your brothers are the two behemoths that confronted me upon my arrival.”

  “Yes. That was Gaelen.”

  Harper tilted her head slightly. “Why did he say something about how my presence was going to be good or something along those lines?”

  She sat through a long perusal, feeling as if his eyes touched on each of her facial features. “What did he say?”

  There was a slight smile that hovered on his face. Hmmm…not really a smile. It was more like a slight upturn at the corners of his mouth that caused her to assume that he was possibly laughing at her.

  Harper shifted in the leather chair, and ignored his amusement. “Whatever. I don’t really care,” she lied. “Your nieces need their uncles and aunt with them as often as possible right now. What’s more, those girls need to understand that it’s okay to grieve. To feel their very natural sadness. They are hiding their confusing emotions away because you aren’t showing any emotions. They look to you and your brothers and sister for cues as to how they should behave. Children learn faster when their role models teach them.”

  His amusement fled and those hazel eyes closed off. Harper sensed an exhausted resignation in the angle of his head as well as the tension in his shoulders. “I’m not their role model. I’m only their uncle.”

  Harper wanted to laugh, but she understood that this man was…tired? Yes. Grieving? Most definitely. And very stoic, hiding all of those “rubbish” emotions away so that the world perceived him as strong and confident.

  “You’re not only their role model anymore, Your Highness,” she asserted firmly. “You are now their only father figure. From what I’ve grasped around the palace in a short period of time, you’re the head of everything here. You’re the leader, not just of the country, but of your family.” She leaned forward, looking pensively into the amber liquid swirling in her glass so she missed the man’s glance at the dark shadow of her chest. When she looked back up at him, she realized that he was sitting very still.

  “I’m guessing this isn’t the assessment you were hoping for?” she offered gently.

  He shook his head and took a long sip of his scotch. He was silent for a long moment and Harper knew that he was weighing her assessment, trying to evaluate the legitimacy of her words. He took another sip of hi
s scotch, looking down at the remaining liquid before finally looking up at her.

  “I trust that you will tell me the truth, without regard for my preferences.” There was another long pause, and then he said, “So, you’re saying the girls need better role models.”

  Harper pulled back, shaking her head, maintaining her patience in the face of his efforts to simplify her words. “No. The girls have perfectly adequate role models. You, Your Highness. The girls need hugs and kisses. They need affection. They need to talk to you.”

  Those hazel eyes flared with fury and impatience. “That’s the whole problem!” he snapped. “They aren’t speaking.”

  She leaned forward again, feeling a breakthrough coming. Instead of imitating his tone, she softened her voice. “Although I don’t know the whole story, I think they aren’t talking because you aren’t talking.” She paused for a moment to let that sink in before she continued. “Remember, they are emulating you.”

  His head jerked back, as if she’d slapped him. “I speak to them,” he argued forcefully.

  She smiled gently again. “Yes. I know that you visit them each day and discuss their school progress with their tutor. But are you talking to them about your feelings or theirs? They are little girls, Your Highness. They don’t understand what happened to their lives all those months ago. One moment, they were excitedly waiting for their parents to return home, probably saving up all of the wonderful things they wanted to tell them, eager for their smiles, attention, and approval. The next moment, their safe little world was devastated by the news that their parents had died.” She sighed. “It doesn’t matter how bad a parent might be, kids look to their parents for approval and understanding of how to make their way in the world. When parents die, children don’t know what to do, how to move forward. They are scared and confused, not sure where their lives will go, where they will sleep, who will take care of them. They need a strong role model to help them understand.”