Servant To The Sheikh by Holly Rayner

Author:Holly Rayner [Rayner, Holly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-04-02T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Jibril knocked on her door at seven on the dot, sending countless jitters through her body. Audrey was positioned on the edge of her bed, having been dressed and prepared to leave for nearly an hour, her makeup shimmering on her face and her eyelashes curled and black, making her look doe-like. After grabbing her purse, she opened the door with a flourish. Her breath caught in her throat.

“Hi,” she whispered.

“Hey there,” Jibril said. He wore a black suit with a black shirt beneath, and he had his hands in his pockets, making him appear cool and unfazed.

His soft lips parted, making Audrey yearn to lean forward and kiss them. They stood in a haze of lust for several seconds before Jibril gestured toward the elevator, telling her, “We should go. I have reservations.”

“Of course,” Audrey said, the spell now broken.

They sped down to the ground floor and entered the foyer in full view of the staff, who eyed Audrey’s low-cut gown and Jibril’s outfit with curiosity, perhaps unaccustomed to Jibril bringing women to the hotel.

“Do you often bring your personal assistants on your trips home?” she asked him, her voice slight.

Jibril considered this for a moment, opening the passenger side’s door of the black rental sports car with a flourish. “You know, I never have,” he said, not making anything of it. “Usually I’m in between personal assistants, I suppose.” He winked at her, tucking her into the seat and then walking to the driver’s side, giving the valet a stern wave.

He drove them deep into the old town, just a few blocks away from the old palace, and parked in a dirt lot. The sun ducked lower in the sky, giving everything around them an ethereal bluish hue.

Slipping in through a narrow arch, Jibril led them through a small alleyway and then deep into a garden, which was decorated with hanging lights, gorgeous, Mediterranean-looking trees, and several intimate tables, each with a bouquet of flowers on top. Only two other couples dined alongside them, each speaking quietly, enhancing the secretive nature of the restaurant.

Jibril ordered three different meals from the waiter, telling him, “I know the chef. Tell him Jibril wants the three specials from two months ago—extra spice. He’ll know what you mean.”

The waiter bowed his head and said “yes, sir” before shuffling back toward the kitchen with the news.

Audrey gazed at him, impressed. They sipped their wine in a comfortable silence, Audrey realizing she’d spent more time with Jibril in the past two weeks than she had with almost anyone else since she’d begun her career. Her heart ached with a feeling of closeness.

“Jibril?” she murmured, breaking the silence.

“What is it?”

“I didn’t want to go back to San Francisco anyway,” she told him, feeling like a child. “Thank you for telling me to stay.”

As expected, their dinner was superb. The meal included spiced lamb, countless vegetables, a beef dish, and even a falafel dish, as Audrey had mentioned that falafel was her new favorite food. They ate languidly as their conversation flowed from one thing to the next.

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