Sheikh's Scandalous Mistress Read Online Free PDF Page A

loathed being made into a fool. Miss Sinclair had worked her hardest to essentially call him on the carpet and to catch the attention of the other reporters, to make them also gear their questions towards his plans as sheikh for the rest of his country. He had those plans, but he and his family could only do so much at a time, damn it.
    He found her out on the balcony alone, nursing a glass of sparkling water or club soda. Perhaps she really was hungover or drunk already. As he slid next to her, he noticed her eyes seemed less red, but the determination was brimming in them just as steadily as it was at the press conference.
    “I’ve been looking for you,” he said, his tone as commanding as it ever was for his staff.
    She glared up at him. He was so shocked at the way she held herself with such confidence and poise. The woman was barely five feet tall, and he should have no trouble making her kowtow to him, and yet she was eyeing him as if he were nothing more than just smoke and mirrors. Damn it, he had far more authority than that, and it was time that Miss Sinclair respected him.
    “Were you now? Do you have any more specifics on how your wonder resort is going to save your country?”
    “I maintain what I say. There’s more than just money involved.”
    “Isn’t there always?” she asked, her tone resigned.
    “But I like to point out politically, that Americans only care about things on a whim. If we suddenly become the go-to playground for the rich, then any other problems we might have as things destabilize around here will actually get listened to. Don’t mistake the kitschy name and the glitz for something else. I think of my duty, my family, and what the resort can do for everyone constantly, Miss Sinclair,” he finished, feeling his breath coming rapidly as he spoke and his nostrils flaring with his anger.
    She considered him and leaned against the railing. “This place really does matter that much to you? You really believe your own hype?”
    “I know exactly what I care about and what I love, Miss Sinclair. Do you?”
    “What?” she asked, furrowing her brow and wrinkling her nose.
    “Do you have things you love besides using journalism to tear good people down?”
    She stepped back a bit, as if she’d been slapped. “I do care about others.”
    “But not everyone is out there to step on the little guys, Amanda,” he said, lowering the timber of his voice, even as he let his face get closer to hers. Again, his lips were just inches from her ear as he continued, his voice a low, guttural whisper. “I’m not some monster or heartless aristocrat who doesn’t care about his people. They keep me up at night, my responsibility to them. So, when I see someone with such a chip on her shoulder that is determined to do against others, I do have to ask: do you love anything at all?”
    She reached back to slap him, but he caught her right hand and restrained her wrist, just as he did the same thing with her left for good measure. Amanda pulled against his grip and cursed at him in a variety of colorful phrases, but he still held her firmly.
    “Let me go. I’m not some harem girl that you can just have your way with,” she threatened.
    He leaned into her, aware of his hardened manhood. Amir knew the moment she realized that he desired her, because she stilled under his grip and her eyes went wide.
    “No, Amanda. You don’t get to insult me and the work I do without getting a fully balanced look at all of it. Tomorrow is the gala opening for the art museum section of the casino. I’d like you to come with me as my honored guest so that you can see everything that we’re offering the people of Abu Dhabi.”
    “I…” she started, licking her lips.
    It seemed to him that her eyes had dilated as well, that her pupils were just a bit bigger than before.
    “Yes, what was that?” he asked.
    “You don’t have any right to restrain me like this.”
    “You’re the one who tried to strike a CEO and