The Contract Read Online Free PDF Page A

his eyes
    were focused on Shahira’s perfect little derrière as she went out. He heard a chuckle, and turned his
    face to see that his mother looked extremely pleased. Having a fair suspicion about the direction of
    her thoughts, he frowned in consternation.
    “Go now. Go have breakfast with your wife,” she veritably crowed.
    He left the room to find Shahira, a rather poor actress. Her efforts at appearing shy were
    laughable, and what she’d assumed to be a loving wifely glance had been more a grimace than
    anything else. He found her sitting at the breakfast table, perfectly calm and poised, bearing no
    resemblance to the simpering woman in his mother’s room.
    “We’ll have to sit here and eat and talk. She’s going to ask Khalida later, and she loves to gossip,
    especially now that you’ve come after…you know, a long time,” she whispered conspiratorially.
    “Who’s Khalida?” he asked, seating himself. He wasn’t really interested in the answer until he
    caught the look of shock and disgust on her face, though she masked it quickly.
    “The woman who has worked for you for the last twelve years.”
    And just like that, he knew that he’d been judged and hanged. She emanated a whole new level of
    indifference, and the politeness had been replaced by barely veiled disdain.
    “Right…well.” Then deliberately, “Shabana…”
    He waited for her inflamed correction. To her credit, she didn’t seem to mind the mangling of her
    name as much as she’d minded his overlooking Khalida.
    “It’s Shahira,” she said, without rancor. “You’ll need to remember it for the next few hours at least.
    It will seem very odd if you keep calling me by other women’s names.”
    She gazed at him with a tolerant half-smile and asked politely, “What would you like for
    breakfast?”
    “What do you have?”
    “Not French cuisine, that’s for sure,” her voice too sweet to be genuine.
    Why he’d spared her a single thought was beyond Hussain. Fine, she was pretty. So her voice was
    sexy and the combination of schoolmarm properness and that huskiness was intriguing—but that was
    it. The rest of her—well she had a great body too, but apart from that, the rest of her was pure evil. If
    she weren’t human, she’d be a black widow spider.
    Incensed, he said, “I’m surprised you can even pronounce the word cuisine. Urdu teacher, weren’t
    you?”
    She shot him a wrathful look.
    “Ah, an Urdu complex too.”
    Further incensed, he twisted the knife some more.
    “The idea was to rest Ami’s suspicions and yet I’ve hardly seen you. I think I’m paying you too
    much.”
    “I don’t think…”
    “Yes, that’s becoming evident.” His voice laced with unmistakable irony, he added, “You weren’t
    even awake when I came in last night. You should’ve put on an act in front of Ami rather than catching
    up on your beauty sleep.”
    Immensely satisfied at her speechless indignation, he continued, “Make sure that by the end of this
    trip my mother’s satisfied regarding our marital bliss so I don’t have to waste any more of my
    precious time on these idiotic trips. That’s why I hired you, remember?”
    Just to push her further, he added in a low tone, loaded with meaning.
    “In fact, make sure I’m satisfied with you.”
    She choked. She was going to make this so easy. He suppressed his wicked glee and kept a straight
    face.
    “I…I’m not sure what you mean.”
    Good, she was on the back foot now and that’s where he intended she should stay. This goody-two-
    shoes teacher was entirely too sure of herself. He hadn’t really thought about it before, but he
    wondered then, why she’d been so insistent that there should be nothing intimate about their
    relationship.
    Aloud he said, “Don’t try to put me in your judgmental little boxes of virtue and non-virtue. You’re
    an inverted snob and seem to have decided who I am, without ever having met me, and you’re
    determined to stick to that