The Sheikh's Reluctant American (The Adjalane Sheikhs #3) Read Online Free PDF Page A

anything.”
    Nigella pressed her lips tight. She never acted without looking at things from all sides. Never. Going away like this was not something she’d ever done—or did. She’d dated plenty, but it was always with a plan and a schedule and a…and boy had those all worked out badly.
    She sucked in a breath and let it out. It was not how she operated and this was so far outside her comfort zone, it took everything within her to actually nod at him and give him a smile.
    ***
    Malid strode from the room and was already on the phone by the time he stepped into the elevator. Arrangements would need to be made, but this gave him an excellent reason to return to Al-Sarid. After speaking to Fadin about what was needed, he called his father’s private line.
    “Malid, I assume you are calling to say the deal is made?” Nimr sounded tired—exhausted in fact.
    Malid pushed down the urge to ask about that. His father would admit to nothing, and that was not the purpose of this call. “I need to bring Michaels into Al-Sarid.” He intentionally did not say which Michaels. “I need a few days.”
    Silence stretched out, and then Nimr said, “Very well. I will ensure you are not bothered.”
    Wetting his lips, Malid wondered what else he should say. He could think of nothing, so he asked, “How is she? How is mother?” He smoothed his tie. He felt like cursing his father, but he had to admit he had brought this on himself. He had been the one who had wanted Al-Hilah back at any cost. Bitterness rose in his throat. He pulled in a breath and said, “Give mother my best and tell her I will see her shortly.” He cut off the call before Nimr could.
    Outside, Fadin stood waiting next to the SUV. “Everything you asked for is in order. Did you speak with your father to clear the path?”
    “I did.” Malid stuffed his hands into his pockets. “That man would keep me from seeing my mother before she dies.”
    “Are you so sure she is that ill? Nimr, as you know better than most, is a master at deception—who else taught you to lie if you must, so long as you do not lose control?”
    Malid frowned. Had his father really taught him that? Or was that something he had learned on his own? As the eldest of three boys, Malid had grown up competing for attention—to be the best. It had become an obsession, Malid knew, and now he wondered if perhaps he had learned the wrong lessons from his father. He shook his head. “I cannot lose focus. Gordon Michaels decided to come look over his daughter’s shoulder—and he is an American version of my father—arrogant, stubborn, certain his way is the only way.” A grin spread across Fadin’s face, and Malid demanded, “Why do you smile?”
    “Forgive me, but it sounds as if you describe yourself. And now…what are you going to do with this American woman for three days?”
    Malid smiled. “I am going to drag out negotiations until I get what I want, of course.”
     

Chapter 5
    Nigella was having the time of her life. Malid had taken care of everything, food—they ate a lovely picnic lunch on the road—water, and traditional clothing waiting for her when they reached the border of Al-Sarid. From there, they had driven for well over an hour before coming to a small, Bedouin encampment where several tents had been set up. Malid spoke to the nomads, and then told Nigella he had asked the two women to accompany Nigella and help her figure out traditional dress.
    “It may seem strange to you, but I promise you will be more comfortable,” he’d told her.
    She’d been amused, and had jokingly whispered to him that he could have helped her. His response still echoed in her ears. “Nigella, when I help you remove your clothing, it will not be to immediately put different ones back on your person.”
    Face hot, she’d hurried into the tent, grateful the women helping her hadn’t understood any of the English—or so she hoped. The Bedouin in their black robes helped her remove her