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Ben looked at him. ‘Even I can see the benefit in marrying someone suitable. It will restore confidence and get the press off our backs. It’ll also restore trust. I’ve found myself in numerous social situations where clients’ wives have made their interest all too obvious, much to the anger of their spouses. It’s only a matter of time before a deal falls through because of petty jealousy—or, worse, the belief that something happened.’ Ben looked around the other men. ‘We’re being seen as threats, in more ways than one. And that’s not good.’
Dante’s irritation was obvious. ‘You s
aid someone suitable—what is suitable? Is there such a woman?’
Sheikh Zayn answered, with all the confidence of a man who came from a society where arranged marriages were commonplace. ‘Of course there is. A woman who is happy to complement your life...a woman who will be discreet and loyal above all.’
Dante raised a brow. ‘So, genius, where do we find this paragon of virtue?’
For a moment there was silence, and Ben tensed again, suspecting that Dante Mancini had gone too far. Sheikh Zayn was a head of state, and used to far more reverential exchanges.
But then the Sheikh threw his head back and laughed, long and hard. When he looked at them all again he said, ‘Do you know how refreshing it is when someone speaks to me like this?’
The tension that had been pulled taut between them ever since they’d all sat down seemed to relax perceptibly.
Dante smiled and gestured with his glass towards the Sheikh. ‘If you would finally agree to discuss alternative energies with me, I’ll disrespect you as much as you want.’
Sheikh Zayn’s eyes flashed with rare humour. ‘Now, that is an offer I could consider.’
Ben cut in. ‘As warm and fuzzy as this cessation in hostilities is, we need to focus on the fact that we’ve agreed that promoting a more settled front is the way to deal with this situation. And for that we need to find women who are happy to marry us quickly and conveniently. As Sheikh Zayn said, women we can trust, who will be discreet. Loyal.’
Dante Mancini’s smile faded and he said darkly, ‘You’d have more luck finding a leprechaun riding a unicorn down Fifth Avenue.’
They contemplated that silently for a few seconds, and then Xander Trakas said quietly, ‘I know someone.’
They all looked at the man who, Ben realised, had been suspiciously quiet up till now. ‘Who?’ he asked, intrigued.
‘A woman. She runs a very discreet dating agency aimed specifically at people like us. She knows our world inside out—’
‘Who is she to you?’ cut in Dante. ‘An ex-lover?’
Xander glared at him, not looking so aloof now. ‘That’s none of your business, Mancini. Just trust me when I say that if anyone can set us up with the right women, she can.’
The Italian mogul held up a hand. ‘Fine—keep your pants on.’
Ben, who’d been absorbing all this, looked to Sheikh Zayn. ‘Well?’
The Sheikh looked as if he’d prefer to sign up to a knitting class, but he finally said heavily, ‘I think it might be the best option... If we’re doing this, time is of the essence—for all of us.’ He punctuated that with an expressive look at each of them.
Dante eventually said, with palpable reluctance, ‘Fine. I’ll take her details but I’m not promising anything.’
Ben held out his phone to Xander Trakas and tried to ignore the sensation of his collar tightening around his neck. ‘Put her number in there. I’ll call her next week.’
As Xander added the contact details to Ben’s phone Sheikh Zayn sat forward and said, with another glimmer of wry humour, ‘Do you know, I’ve actually forgotten what it was that set us off against each other in the first place...?’
Ben quirked a rueful smile. ‘I think we have to admit that perhaps we liked being adversaries too much to give it up.’
Xander put Ben’s phone down on the table. He held up his glass. ‘Well, then, maybe it’s time to concede a mutual defeat for the benefit of a bigger victory. Restoring faith in our reputations, which in turn will restore confidence in our businesses and profit margins. Because, as we all know, that’s what’s most important.’
Dante Mancini lifted his glass and drawled, ‘Hear, hear. To the start of a beautiful friendship, gentlemen.’
Ben looked around at each of the men and thought that in spite of the slightly mocking tone of Mancini’s words something had shifted here tonight. These men were not foes any more. They were allies and, yes, possibly even friends.
Ben raised his glass to join the others. Nothing was going to get in their way now. Not even the women they would take as their convenient wives.
CHAPTER ONE
BEN CARTER STOOD near the main window in his office, with its impressive views over downtown Manhattan. The thing that usually pleased him most when he took in this view was seeing his construction cranes high in the sky, dotted around the island. Right now, though, he had his back to the view and every line of his body was in defence mode, from his crossed arms to his tense stance.
