The Sheikh's Bargain Bride (Desert Kings)(62)

By: Diana Fraser



She swallowed. “I can’t. It has to be today. The agency rang and arranged the appointment with your receptionist for 5.30.” Her first lie. It had been easier than she’d thought.

“You’re late then.”

He still hadn’t turned around.

“I’m not late. I’ve been waiting over an hour.”

Cassandra walked slowly towards him and stopped in the middle of the room, suddenly confronted with her own image clearly visible in the window against the darkening sky. It was an image she didn’t recognize—sleekly groomed and in control.

He grunted but still didn’t move, simply continued to stare across the darkening harbor towards the Rimutaka ranges, glowing orange in the setting sun.

She had to admit the view was incredible. No wonder the man felt invincible. He had the city at his feet. Just a pity that he chose to abuse his power. But that was where she came in, wasn’t it?

“Go home.”

“You’re too busy to see me? Fine.” She turned and walked away, her stilettos stabbing the marble floor. “But you need to know you’re passing up the best opportunity you’ll get of employing a good PA. I know, I’ve looked through the CVs of the other candidates and they won’t last.”

She stopped by the door. The thud of her heart seemed to shake her body with its intensity. All the work of these past months in preparation for this moment. Was it all for nothing? She had to see. She turned her head just enough to check his reaction.

He’d shifted slightly, briefly revealing his profile against the city lights, before turning to her. An advertising hoarding cast alternating beams of red and green light across his cheek bone and down to the hard set of his mouth. The effect was demonic and unnerving. Although his eyes remained in darkness, Cassandra’s skin prickled under their intense scrutiny.

He sighed: a deep soul-wrenching sigh. “I’m not too busy.”

For a fleeting moment Cassandra felt the shock of the unexpected. She thought she recognized the emptiness behind the sound. One look at his arrogant face and the thought vanished as quickly as it came.

“I asked my receptionist to tell you to leave. She obviously decided not to.”

She turned to face him. “So you’ll interview me now?”

“Doesn’t look as if I have much choice does it, Miss—”

She stepped towards him and offered her hand.

“Lee. Cassandra Lee.” She smiled tentatively, trying to contain her nerves.

He didn’t smile back but took her hand in his. Rather than dispelling her nerves the warmth and strength of his hand briefly engulfing hers, shook her. She felt his power, and from the way his grey eyes narrowed slowly, she also felt his interest.

“The agency rang, you say?”

She nodded.

“Really?”

A warning shiver trickled down her back at the lowered tone. Her lie hadn’t gone undetected. But she had no choice but to continue.

“You wanted someone ‘highly organized, experienced and prepared for anything—24/7.’”

“And I take it you’re all that?”

“And more. I also have superb references, a Masters degree and I’m a creative thinker.”

Particularly when it came to her CV. She dropped a copy of the document—more fiction than fact—on to his desk.

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