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CHAPTER ONE
Sheikh Ahmed Al Kharif gazed across the high-ceilinged reception room, over the heads of the many elegantly dressed guests, and up at the platform where the woman he wanted more than anyone else presently stood.
Gemma Ellon.
He wanted her, and right now, another man possessed her, had taken control of her. But that would merely be temporary, if Ahmed had his way.
And he would.
Before the night was over.
From his side, he heard a voice above the general hubbub of the party. "What's on your mind, brother?" Taliq asked.
Ahmed turned to Taliq. His younger brother had probably seen the way Ahmed had gazed up at the astonishingly beautiful woman standing up there on the platform.
"What do you think?" Ahmed replied.
Taliq followed Ahmed's gaze. "Her?"
Ahmed nodded.
"You still haven't gotten over Rashid winning the contract, have you?"
Ahmed lifted a skeptical brow. "Why would I ever get over that?" He glanced at the woman standing up there, watching her smiling at the cameras as they snapped pictures of her. She'd just been introduced to the guests by Rashid Al Riaz. Ahmed's rival in the media business they were both involved in.
No, that wasn't quite accurate. The Qazhar media business they constantly fought each other over for control. For dominance.
And, right now, the evidence of Tariq's latest victory over Ahmed was standing right up there on the stage.
Gemma Ellon was a major coup for Rashid, and Ahmed felt the sense of defeat in his bones. But, if Ahmed had anything to do with it, Tariq's victory would be temporary.
Very temporary.
"She should have been working with your company, you know that don't you," Taliq said.
Ahmed shook his head and sighed. "I know that, Taliq. No need to rub it in. I messed up."
"She is beautiful, though, isn't she?" Taliq observed.
At thirty years of age, Ahmed was three years older than Taliq, but sometimes it felt like so much more. Taliq's observation was simple, but very true. "Beyond beautiful," Ahmed muttered. "Stunning."
Ahmed saw Taliq look at him with curiosity after he'd uttered those words.
But, it was true. Gemma Ellon was simply incredible looking, Ahmed told himself as he took a sip of champagne.
Gemma was tall, blonde and full-figured in every possible, delightful way imaginable. She was dressed in stunning, figure-hugging white dress which was modern, but also cut to hint at traditional Qazhar dress. Although it was designed to look modest, on her, with the fullness of her body, it exuded sensuality.
Simply gazing upon her, Ahmed felt a primal flicker of male desire. It was unprofessional, he knew, but also unavoidable. No man would fail to beaffected by her. She was everything he'd ever imagined a woman to be.
But she was more than just that.
She was the perfect example of a stunningly attractive, famous American. Not only that. She was a social media star, with millions of followers who hung on her every word, who gazed with wonder and jealousy upon Gemma's celebrity lifestyle.
The woman had it all, Ahmed reflected. Looks, fame and talent. And she was currently unattached. Something she did not stop telling all her followers. She was the personification of the single, unattached girl, independent, someone who needed no man to give her life meaning. Someone who lived her life on her own terms.
At least that was how she portrayed herself. Ahmed wondered if, behind the very beautiful mask, that was indeed the truth .
But, her fame was what had brought her to Qazhar. And the reputation she'd built for herself during the past couple of years. The perfect role model for the young, independent woman.
