Free Accidentally the Sheikh's Wife by Barbara McMahon

relaxed. He was quick to anger, but also quick to regain his equilibrium. She saw when his curiosity was piqued by her arrival.
    “What are you doing here?” His gaze dropped to her bare feet. His lips curved in a slight smile.
    “I came for a book to read. I can’t seem to sleep. You said you had some English books—I thought I’d get one of those.”
    He nodded and gestured to the shelving on the left. “English books on that wall. My grandmother used to entertain several friends from Great Britain. She has an assortment. The mysteries are on the lower shelves.”
    She crossed, conscious of his regard, and began to scan the titles. Finding a couple that sounded promising, she drew them from the shelf. Had Rashid read them? Could they discuss them after she finished?
    Deciding to take both, she hugged them to her chest as she turned to face him.
    “Now what?” she asked.
    “You read them and fall asleep?” he asked.
    “I mean with our charade. Did the phone call help or change things?”
    “We continue. Whichever way the winds blow, we will adapt.”

CHAPTER THREE
    “I DON’T mean to intrude. But if you need someone to talk to, I could listen.” She wished she’d had someone to listen to her when her father’s disappearance became known. Her mother had long ago divorced herself from Hank Pendarvis—both legally and emotionally. She and Bethanne’s stepfather had a loving and happy marriage from which Bethanne had often felt excluded. Plus, they never had a kind word to say about her father. Bethanne wished she could have him give her one of his bear hugs again. Did Haile’s father feel that way?
    “Did he hear from Haile?” she asked.
    “He did. And is furious with her and with me.”
    “You’re the injured party—why is he angry with you?”
    “He believes I should have told him immediately. He could have taken steps. He overrates his power. By the time I found out, Haile had had hours to flee Morocco. She and her lover were married in Marseilles that very day. My telling him would not have prevented that.”
    “Will he tell others? Your minister?”
    “Not if he wants this deal to go through.”
    He pushed away from the desk. “I have my folder. I won’t keep you up any longer.”
    He looked at her slacks and T-shirt.
    “Was sleeping attire not included in the clothes I ordered?”
    “Yes, but no robe. I didn’t know whom I might see if I came down for books.”
    “I shall remedy that in the morning.”
    “Please, I’m fine. Next time I’ll take a book up with me. You’ve been more than generous. I don’t need anything else.”
    “I thought all women loved beautiful things.”
    “I expect we do. But we don’t have to own everything we see. Good night, Rashid.”
     
    Reaching her room a minute later, she softly closed the door and flung herself on the bed, the books falling on the mattress beside her. She had not expected to see him again tonight. He’d looked tired and somewhat discouraged. Not the best way to end a day. She hoped the deal would be signed soon. There was nothing else she could do but go along and hope in some small part she’d contribute to a satisfactory conclusion to their negotiations.
    Trying to settle into a fictitious mystery when she had a real-life scenario in her own life was difficult. Murder was not involved in her case, but finding clues was. She tried to glean ideas from the book, but her mind turned time and time again to Rashid.
    She knew he believed Hank to be a thief, but wouldn’t he still want answers? Letting the book fall onto her chest, she gazed at the dark night beyond the billowing curtains. The man at the airport had said the son had no idea why her father took the plane. Didn’t he want to know? She couldn’t picture Rashid ignoring the situation. He’d push until he got answers.
    Just before she fell asleep, she pictured herself with Rashid finding her father and finding the reason for the apparent theft. It could be explained