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“It’s not fraternizing. Think of it as still being on the clock,” he told her. “If it makes you feel any better, we could just discuss the case.”
Jameela found he would not take no for an answer, so she eventually agreed. He would pick her up at her apartment at seven. She nodded and walked off to greet an overly excited Mansi.
“So? What was that about?” she asked.
“He asked me out to dinner,” Jameela reluctantly volunteered.
“See, I knew it,” Mansi replied and glued her eyes on Jameela for more to the story.
“You knew what exactly?” Jameela asked and pulled the seatbelt across her chest.
“That you were into him more than you were letting on,” she replied with a satisfactory grin.
“You make that sound as if I was the one who invited him out,” Jameela replied with incredulity.
“You weren’t the one to do it, but you could have said no,” Mansi replied and winked at her.
Jameela opened her mouth to reply, but no words came out. Mansi was right and she knew it. For all her talk that she couldn’t stand to be around Al-Hafeez, she had said yes to dinner, with almost zero hesitation. She closed her mouth and turned her attention to the window as she watched the buildings disappearing behind the fast moving car. She didn’t even care to comment on Mansi’s speeding this time, because her own mind was racing much faster, and she felt incapable of controlling what would happen next.
CHAPTER 6
When Jameela opened her door later that night, she felt as if she was seeing Sheikh Al-Hafeez for the first time. He seemed like a strangely different man, and she felt herself thinking more comfortably about his charms and her sexuality, and the two combined. He was as handsome as before, except that now he looked debonair too, in his black suit and white shirt which had the top two buttons open, the collar limping slightly like a dog’s ear to reveal his smooth skin that was in stark contrast to his outfit.
She took in a deep breath, clutched her purse before her and stepped outside with him. He held his arm for her, and she, being the lady she was, could hardly refuse his chivalry. She sensed he was acting as was his custom, but she couldn’t help feeling like a damsel from a fairytale who had just been rescued. She saw him glance over, his eyes sweeping her body as it took in the emerald green skin hugging dress she wore that was lined along the bust with faux diamonds. The cut revealed her cleavage and ripe breasts forcing their way outside their temporary prison. The dress ended just below her knees, far enough to reveal the silvery strapped sandals she wore. She blushed when she saw his obvious approval, followed by a slight jerk of his lips.
Over dinner, she became as self-conscious as she could possibly feel, for he never once restrained himself from feasting his eyes on her bosom.
“I never imagined you would look like that under those suits,” he finally mentioned to her. “I am intrigued.” He leaned forward and locked his fingers on the table.
“I thought this was going to be a business meeting,” she replied and instantly placed the glass of champagne to her lips, an attempt to distract her from his field of gravity that was pulling her in. Half the times she was around Al-Hafeez she felt as if she was being sucked into a black hole, and that he took immense pleasure watching her spiral into oblivion, knowing full well he was the only man with the means to her escape.
“It is. I just mentioned your suit; that’s work,” he said and smiled.
“You’re hilarious,” she replied as a smile worked its way onto her face too. She wrapped her hands around her and looked around the room at anything she could find that wasn’t his face.
“Am I that repulsive?” he asked her.
“What do you mean?” she asked as she whipped her head around.
“You refuse to look at me, when other women can’t seem to take their eyes off,” he told her, his ego once more running rampant.
“I’m not other women,” she told him, and made a deliberate attempt at staring into his eyes to prove her strength, and him wrong. That act was to her detriment. He held her eyes there for longer than she wanted him to, and without saying a word, he communicated a strange desire for her, and the realization caused her heart to race. Her chest heaved as she got lost in him, and she was grateful when the waiter intervened with an offer for additional drinks. “So, what’s your story?” she asked him, a measly attempt at a distraction.
It seemed to work—if even for the moment. He fell back against his chair and wiped his hand over his face. “There is no story—not really. I was young, I got bored, fell in with the wrong crowd and started gambling. I didn’t know then what a cold and dark world it could be. Heck, I didn’t know until this offense.”
“I don’t get it,” Jameela replied. “You have money coming out of your ears; your family owns much of the real estate on the coast; you were bred as royalty, with power and influence you can now wield like a sword. Why didn’t you make better use of your time, and money, rather than losing it in such a juvenile manner?”
“Now you sound like my father,” he replied and looked away. “It became an obsession before I realized how problematic it could be. I’ve costed my family more money than I am proud to admit. This time was a wakeup call for me. If you can get me off, that’s my promise to myself, to you and to my father, that I am done. He had been waiting for me to fill his shoes ever since I was fifteen. They are not shoes I feel I am worthy of,” he said and sighed.
“In your current state, probably not,” she said softly, already empathizing with him. “But it is a start to acknowledge your mistake, and to get help.”
“I suppose,” he replied. Then he was silent for a while as he stared at her. “I’ve never met you before hiring you, but I got the impression, even on our first encounter, that you didn’t like me much.”
Jameela blushed and looked down at the table. “Let’s just say that your issues came too close to home; my grandfather lost his estate because of his own gambling problems.”
“Aah,” he replied as he suddenly understood her attitudes against him. “I can’t say I would feel any differently. And how is it now that you have come to ‘forgive’ me?”
“There was nothing to forgive; it wasn’t your fault,” she told him and smiled.
