The Sheikh's Secret Son Read Online Free PDF

both to the father before him and now to the son. You could tell me how foolish I was to think I could negotiate a simple business deal without you by my side.”
    â€œOn the contrary, Your Highness. I would never presume such a thing. I only ask, as advisor and father-in-law and friend, to humbly serve Your Highness with all of my feeble, unworthy self, in any way I can.”
    Nadim bowed again, but not before Ben saw the quick gleam of satisfaction—mingled with dislike?—in Nadim’s dark eyes. He recalled his father’s words on the subject of enemies. It is best to keep them close, where you can watch them.
    Ben took another long drink of water, to cleanse his palate after Nadim’s too sweet apology—or whatever the hell the man thought he had been offering. “I postponed the meeting until tomorrow, as something came up. Something unexpected,” he told Nadim, effortlessly massaging the truth, “and unexpectedly personal.”
    â€œYour Highness?” Nadim asked, waiting to seathimself until Ben had lowered himself onto one of the two striped couches in the living room area of the immense suite. The suite had six rooms, not counting those for the servants. Texans, it seemed, took great pleasure in living up to their reputation of “everything is bigger in Texas.”
    Ben pushed a hand through his coal-dark hair. Choosing his words carefully, he said, “Do you by chance remember an American woman by the name of Fortune, Nadim? Miss Eden Fortune?”
    â€œA woman?” Clearly, Nadim was puzzled. “You postponed a meeting we have been planning for six months—for a woman? I know our beloved Leila is gone these past three years, Your Highness, but surely if you had need of a woman, there is no dearth of them at home in Kharmistan. If you had but asked, I—”
    â€œThere is a saying here in America, Nadim—‘Get your mind out of the gutter.’” There was an edge of steel in Ben’s voice as he interrupted the man. “You would do well to remember it.”
    Nadim inclined his head. “My profound apologies, Your Highness.”
    â€œNot that I am not honored by your offer to…um… pimp for your sheikh,” Ben said, unable to hide his smile. “I had no idea that procuring willing females was part of your duties as my advisor.”
    Ben now saw the anger in Nadim’s eyes, the fullness of it, the depth of it, even as the man answered with a smile of his own. “Your Highness is being droll.”
    â€œI try,” Ben said, his own humor evaporating. “Now, to get back to Miss Eden Fortune, if I might. Do you recall the name?”
    â€œI do not, Highness. I am sorry. Have I met the woman?”
    Ben stood, walked over to stand in front of his advisor, looked down at him as he sat at his ease. “No, Nadim, you have not. Perhaps you remember my father’s illness of some years ago, the time of his first cerebral accident?”
    Nadim frowned as he stood, bowed to his sheikh. “Those were such trying times, Your Highness,” he said apologetically. “Your father had been meeting with the various desert chieftains on the delicate matter of water rights when he collapsed, sending everyone into a panic. Fools, all of them, believing that Kharmistan could not survive your father’s death. Our neighbors were looking for a reason to invade our territory, and without the loyalty of the chieftains we faced a turmoil that had to be avoided at all costs. We had to find you, which, I recall, was not an easy task, Your Highness, and then prominently produce you, prove that Kharmistan would go on, no matter what happened to your father.”
    â€œThen you do recall, Nadim,” Ben said, beginning to pace once more. “And you found me. You found me in Paris. Now do you remember the name Eden Fortune?”
    Nadim’s eyes were as dark as a starless midnight in the Kharmistan