Free Promised to a Sheik by Carla Cassidy

to him. As the limo pulled up before her little cottage, she decided that just for tonight she would wrap her happiness around her and worry about tomorrow…tomorrow.
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    â€œThere’s a butt pincher at table seven,” Haley fumed to Ginger as the two met in the kitchen to pick up orders. They were both working in the Men’s Grill that evening, and the night had not started well for Haley.
    As always, she was wired by the FBI, who hoped she would overhear something, anything that would benefit them in their investigation into the mob’s smuggling operation.
    She was always nervous when working in the Men’s Grill, knowing that she was wired and playing a dangerous game.
    Tonight her nerves seemed more jangled than usual. She’d spilled a drink on the first person she’d served, and mixed up another order. Now, having hadher butt pinched three times so far by the creep at table seven, she was ready to walk out.
    â€œThere’s nothing worse than a butt pincher,” Ginger said sympathetically, then grinned. “Unless it’s a breast brusher.”
    Despite her irritation, Haley laughed as she loaded up her order on a tray. “Ah, the perils of waitressing.”
    â€œDaisy.”
    Haley turned to see Harvey Small hurrying toward her, a worried frown between his beady little eyes. “What?” she asked.
    â€œPut your tray down. Meagan is going to cover your tables. I need you to bartend for a party in the blue dining room.”
    â€œNow?” she asked. Usually the private dining rooms were booked far in advance, and she hadn’t heard of any private party being booked.
    â€œYeah, now. Somebody called a few minutes ago and said they’d be here in fifteen minutes. I don’t even know if the bar is stocked, so you’d better hustle in there and get things ready.”
    â€œAll right.” She put her tray down and, with a wave to Ginger, hurried from the kitchen and headed toward what the help called the Blue Room.
    The private dining room was small and decorated in navy blue. Its single table seated eight people, but could accommodate twelve. There was a built-in bar against one wall, and Haley went directly there to make certain everything she would need for serving drinks was stocked.
    She didn’t mind working the private rooms. Not only was there an automatic gratuity built into the patrons’ checks for the bartender, but usually the private parties tipped well.
    And she needed the tips.
    It was ironic that she’d been raised in wealth, had never wanted for anything, and for all she knew there was still a bank account somewhere with her name on it, but a dead woman couldn’t access funds. And as far as everyone was concerned, Haley Mercado drowned in a lake many years ago.
    Long live Daisy Parker, she thought bitterly.
    While she waited for the party to arrive, she opened a jar of olives and another of cherries, and sliced several limes and lemons, ready for whatever drinks they might order.
    She heard them before they entered, the sounds of gruff male voices and the higher-pitched voice of Harvey as he greeted them outside the door.
    Then the first of the party walked in, and her breath caught painfully in her chest. Her father and her brother. For a moment, fear of being recognized was overwhelmed by the need to run to them, throw herself in their arms and weep.
    This was what she’d both yearned for and feared. She’d hungered to see her family again, but knew that if they recognized her, if they discovered she was alive and well, then all she had worked for would be destroyed and her very life would be in danger.
    She drew several deep breaths to steady herself, and watched as her father and brother sat at the table.She could only hope that with her now-blond hair and the plastic surgery she’d had many years ago nobody would recognize her.
    Still, she drank in the sight of her father. She hadn’t seen him