Kate Hardy – Surrender to the Playboy Sheikh (страница 7)

‘And she’s the caterer you want to work for you?’ Luke queried.

‘She cooks for the rich and famous. Hand-picked client list.’ Karim leaned back against the leather club chair. ‘She’s the best. And I tasted her food at Felicity Browne’s do, the other night, so I know what I’m talking about.’

He’d tasted her, too…and he wanted to do it again. And again. A lot more intimately.

Luke wrinkled his nose. ‘I don’t like the sound of this. Mixing business and pleasure—it never works, Karim. It’ll end in tears. I’ve seen it happen too many times before.’

‘Maybe.’

‘Definitely.’ Luke raised an eyebrow. ‘So what’s the plan?’

‘I’m going to persuade her to change her mind.’

‘You’re going to charm her into working for you?’

Karim shrugged. ‘I offered to pay her double. She just said that you couldn’t buy people.’

‘Too right. If you can buy them, they’re not worth having around. They’ll be unreliable.’ Luke frowned. ‘And if she drops clients in favour of you, what’s to stop her dropping you if she gets a better offer?’

‘I don’t expect her to ditch long-standing arrangements in favour of me—and she told me up front she had no intention of dropping any of her clients for me. But I also happen to know there are three days a week when she doesn’t have bookings. I want her on those three days.’ Karim turned his glass of mineral water round in his hands. ‘So it’s a matter of getting to know her better. Finding out what’s important to her. And then…negotiating terms.’

‘It still sounds to me as if you’re planning to mix business and pleasure. If you’re going to be her boss, it’s practically harassment,’ Luke pointed out.

‘She’s her own boss. Technically, I’d be her client.’

‘Same difference. Let it go,’ Luke said. ‘Sure, you’re attracted to her. But there’s a lot riding on these meetings. Screw it up for the sake of—what, half a dozen dates, before you get bored or she gets too serious and you back off?—and you’ll never forgive yourself.’

‘I’m not going to screw it up.’

‘You will do, if you’re thinking with another part of your anatomy instead of with your head,’ Luke advised. He finished his drink. ‘Think about what I said. If you want me to have a word with Cathy, let me know. It’s not a problem.’

‘Thanks. I appreciate the offer.’

There was a tinge of sympathy in Luke’s eyes. ‘It’s tough, living up to a parent’s expectations.’

Not as tough as having no family at all—though Karim didn’t say so, knowing just how sensitive his best friend was about the issue. Particularly as Luke had been the one to walk away. ‘I always knew I’d have to grow up and pull my weight in the family firm some time.’ He just hadn’t expected it to be this way. He’d seen himself in a supporting role, not the limelight.

But all that had changed five years ago when his brother had died. The whole world had turned upside down. So he’d done the only thing possible: given up his PhD studies and gone home to do his duty as the new heir to the throne.

A duty he still wasn’t quite reconciled to. Not that he’d ever hurt his parents by telling them how he felt; and he would never, ever let them or his country down. But no matter how hard he worked or played, he still missed the studies he’d loved so much. Filling his time didn’t fill the empty space inside him.

Karim finished his own drink. ‘I’ve done quite enough loafing around for today. I’ll see you later.’

‘You’re going home to work?’

Karim laughed as he stood up. ‘Says the man who’s going to do exactly the same thing.’ Their backgrounds were miles apart, but Karim thought that he and Luke had a very similar outlook on life. They’d met on the first day of their MBA course, liked each other immediately, and the liking had merged into deep friendship over the years. Karim thought of Luke as the brother he no longer had, and Luke was the only person Karim would ever have talked to about Lily. And even though part of him knew that Luke was right, that mixing business and pleasure would lead to an unholy mess, he couldn’t stop himself thinking about her.

By the time he’d walked home, he’d worked out what to do. There was something more important than money: time. And maybe that was the key to Lily. For the next couple of weeks, his work was flexible. He could fit in the hours whenever it suited him.

So maybe, just maybe, he had a way to convince her.

The following morning, he leaned on Lily’s doorbell at nine o’clock sharp.

She opened the door and just stared at him for a moment.

And he was very, very aware that her gaze had gone straight to his mouth.

With difficulty, he forced his thoughts off her mouth and what he wanted to do with it. ‘Good morning, Lily.’

‘Good m—’ she began, then frowned. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘I’m your new apprentice.’

She shook her head. ‘Apart from the fact I already have all the staff I need, you can’t be my apprentice—you don’t have catering experience and you don’t have a food hygiene certificate.’

‘And how do you know that?’ he challenged.

‘I looked you up on the Internet.’ She paused before adding, ‘Your Highness.’

She’d looked him up. Just as he’d looked her up, the previous day. On her own website as well as the gossip pages. Nobody had been linked with Lily’s name for the last four years—probably, he thought, because she’d been too busy setting up and then running her business to socialise. Which suited him fine.

He met her gaze. ‘And that’s a problem?’

‘If you think I’m going to let my clients down in favour of you just because you’ve got a title, then I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed, Your Highness.’

He smiled, pleased that she had principles and stuck to them. ‘My title has nothing to do with it. To you, I’m Karim.’

‘Sheikh Karim al-Hassan of Harrat Salma,’ she pointed out. ‘You’re a prince. Your dad rules a country.’

‘The title bothers you, doesn’t it?’

‘Not particularly.’ She shrugged. ‘I’ve met people with titles before.’

And worked for them. He already knew that. And he liked the fact that she was discreet enough not to mention any names. ‘Then what bothers you, Lily?’

You do, she thought. You do. It wasn’t his title; she was used to dealing with wealthy, famous people. It was the man. The way her body reacted to him. The way he sent her into a flat spin when he so much as smiled at her. ‘Nothing,’ she fibbed.

‘So. As I said. I’m your new apprentice.’

‘You’re nothing of the sort. Without a food hygiene certificate, you can’t work with food.’

‘I can still run errands. Make you coffee. Wash up.’ He smiled, showing perfect white teeth. Sexy teeth. Sexy mouth.

Oh, Lord. She was near to hyperventilating, remembering what that mouth had done to her. Thinking about what she wanted it to do to her.

‘I could make you lunch,’ he suggested.

She aimed for cool. Since when would a sheikh do his own cooking? ‘You’re telling me you can actually cook?’ she drawled.

He laughed. ‘Making a sandwich isn’t exactly cooking. But if you want to know just how well I can cook, have dinner with me—and I’ll cook for you.’

Lord, he was confident. Most people just wouldn’t attempt to cook for a professional chef, worrying that their food wouldn’t come up to standard.

But she had a feeling that Karim al-Hassan would be good at everything he chose to do.

He was definitely good at kissing.

Flustered, she tried to push the memories out of her head, the insidious thoughts about what Karim might do next after he kissed her again—because he wasn’t going to kiss her again. She was absolutely resolved about that. ‘It’s very kind of you to offer, but I’m afraid I don’t have time.’

‘It’s Tuesday. You’re not cooking tonight,’ he pointed out.

‘I still have preparation work to do. And my column to write. And admin—catering is the same as any other business, with bills that need paying and books that need balancing and planning that needs to be done for future events.’

‘All right. Next Monday night, then. I’ll cook for you.’

This was sounding suspiciously like a date. Something she didn’t do.

‘Or we can make it lunch, if it’d make you feel safer,’ he added.

‘I’m not afraid of you.’ Which was true. She was afraid of herself. Of her reaction to him. She’d never felt like this before. This overwhelming blend of desire and need and urgency. Not even with Jeff—and she’d lost her head over him.

She’d lost a hell of a lot more, too. Her business, her home, her self-respect, and her heart. She’d worked hard to get them all back, and she knew better than to repeat her mistakes.

‘So you’ll have lunch with me on Monday.’ It was a statement, not a question.

The sensible side of her wanted to say no.