The Sheikh's Green Card Bride Read Online Free PDF

in Bahir not to roll his eyes at her. He was not a man who had time for childish games.
     
    “What’s the matter, Bahir?” she murmured. She reached out for him, running her hands up his shoulders until her fingers laced at the back of his neck. “You don’t want to play?” she asked, her voice husky.
     
    Bahir grinned down at her as he placed a kiss on her lips, and felt nothing. Whatever passion he had tried to find with Casandra had burned out, and now all he wanted was for her to leave so he could get some much needed rest.
     
    He lifted his head from hers and pulled her away. “I’ve got work to do,” he said, his tone flat.
     
    Cassandra continued to pout, crossing her arms. “You’ve always got work to do. Why don’t you take a break and live a little?” she demanded.
     
    The longer she stayed, the more Bahir saw her as a toddler demanding a toy. If that’s how she wanted to act, he could be a parent, no problem.
     
    “Cassandra, I don’t have time for this. You are invading my space, and I’d like you to leave,” he said sternly.
     
    Cassandra stared at him in disbelief for a moment before storming over to a Louis Vuitton bag by the chaise longue and scooping it up.
     
    “You’re going to regret this, Bahir. You’ll die a lonely old man with no one by your side. You know you can’t take money to the grave, right?”
     
    “But you can take a legacy, Cassandra, and isn’t that just as good?”
     
    “Screw you!”
     
    “Goodnight to you, too,” he replied, watching as she trotted out of the apartment. How had she seemed like such a good idea a month ago, he wondered.
     
    Shrugging, he turned on his computer and sent out a few last-minute emails. It was midday in Seattle, and he was able to reach some folks easily before shutting back down and stripping for bed. He laid still, waiting to sleep to come, but, to his annoyance, Cassandra’s words flew across his mind.
     
    You are going to die a lonely old man.
     
    Bahir took a breath. It wasn’t a fear of his, per se. He knew deep down that everyone died alone. Still, it made him think about his parents, which was something he never liked to do.
     
    Bahir’s father was born into wealth, his family name holding a legacy that went back generations. It was a legacy that Bahir had admired and feared as he grew into an adult with the very strong expectation that he would be an asset to the family name. Bahir would be shunned if he was the one to smear the Al-Jabbar empire.
     
    Still, he had watched as his father worked his own life away as a sheikh, dealing with landowner issues and holding the welfare of thousands of people in his hands. He had been forced to make difficult decisions that had real consequences on people’s lives, and yet he maintained a stoic demeanor through it all. There was a time when he had to choose whether to build a new office building in a downtown neighborhood, which would displace hundreds of families. Bahir was twelve at the time.
     
    “Papa, you can’t do this! People will be homeless because of you!”
     
    Raji Al-Jabbar stared into the golden eyes of his naïve young son, and crossed his arms. “You are an expert then, on what is best for our stakeholders as a whole?”
     
    “No, Papa. I know I’m just a child, but I have played with the children of those families. They are scared for their parents, and for themselves. You can’t take away their homes!”
     
    Raji knelt down, to look Bahir in the eye at his level. He placed a sturdy hand on the boy’s shoulder.
     
    “Bahir, sometimes people have to suffer for the greater good of the community at large. This building will provide jobs for many more people than we would displace, and besides, they can afford to find housing elsewhere. You will see that this is the best decision for everyone, in the end.”
     
    Bahir frowned, unconvinced, but knowing better than to question his father.
     
    Raji had a reputation for being a stern, sometimes