The Sheikh's Hesitant Bride (Qazhar Sheikhs series Book 7) Read Online Free
Author: Cara Albany
gave you to read?" she asked, suddenly desperate for a change of subject.
His dark eyes flickered slightly, his gaze hovering around her, and she felt as if he were examining her for the first time.
"What?" he asked idly.
"The papers," she said holding up the folder.
"Oh, those? I can see you're thorough."
She smiled politely. "I pride myself on my attention to detail. I like my work."
He nodded. "I can see that. I'm not surprised Abby hired you."
Rachel felt her cheeks flush.
Zarif frowned. "I've embarrassed you. I apologize."
"No, you haven't embarrassed me, at all," she insisted.
"I was too presumptuous. I can see you have worked very hard on this. And, since your efforts are for my benefit, it was impolite of me to be so familiar."
Rachel felt taken aback by this sudden show of propriety. "Not at all, Sheikh."
He smiled at her. "Please, Rachel. I insist you call me Zarif. It will be so much easier if you do. Sheikh makes me sound so...impersonal. Don't you think?" he added with a grin.
There was that easy charm again, Rachel observed. He had the ability to turn on a beguiling manner so very quickly. She was sure it was an ability that had been honed as a result of many encounters, many amorous episodes. She forced her attention up to the illuminated numbers that showed they had almost reached the top floor. Level twenty.
The lift slowed and, with a melodic sound, the doors opened onto a carpeted hallway. There was one passageway that served the two apartments on the top floor. One apartment faced the rear of the building, the other apartment faced out onto views that took in some of the most famous sights in this part of the city.
Rachel opened the door to that apartment and gestured for Zarif to enter. She closed the door behind her and followed him into the main sitting room of the ultra-modern apartment. She was familiar with the design, had viewed the place previously, but her breath was still taken away by the sheer opulence of the apartment. It was high-end, designed to impress, all hard edges, clean cut lines, luxurious in every detail. She thought it was amazing, and it should be, considering the asking price which was in the millions.
Rachel could only imagine what it would be like to live in such luxury. In fact, if she was really honest, she couldn't really begin to fathom what it would be like to live in such style.
She followed Zarif around the various rooms, answering his many questions, scrutinizing him for clues as to whether he approved of the place or not. He was such a difficult person to read in many respects, she told herself as she trailed around by his side. Every time she thought she saw a hint of approval, a suggestion that he liked the apartment, his features darkened and she was hit by another probing question.
Zarif was a man who knew exactly what he wanted. That much was crystal clear. She speculated what he would be like back in his native land. Would he behave differently from how he acted here, in London?
Of course he would, she chided herself. Being a creature of that harsh land must have bred in him a natural caution about all his affairs. She imagined, even with the protection of vast wealth, Qazhar must be a place that made men different from the ones she had been used to since leaving college.
Zarif was so much older than her, almost thirty, and she felt the difference in their ages in the way he was conducting himself here in this place. But then her experience couldn't match his. She laughed inwardly, feeling the absurdity of her observation. It wouldn't be hard, considering how limited was her experience with men.
Zarif turned to Rachel and peered at her, drawing her back to the present. "So?"
"What?" she replied, suddenly aware that she must have missed a question he'd asked.
He grinned. "Should I?" he asked.
Rachel frowned. "Should you what?"
Zarif quirked a brow. "Buy."
She was momentarily taken aback. Was he asking her is she thought he
His dark eyes flickered slightly, his gaze hovering around her, and she felt as if he were examining her for the first time.
"What?" he asked idly.
"The papers," she said holding up the folder.
"Oh, those? I can see you're thorough."
She smiled politely. "I pride myself on my attention to detail. I like my work."
He nodded. "I can see that. I'm not surprised Abby hired you."
Rachel felt her cheeks flush.
Zarif frowned. "I've embarrassed you. I apologize."
"No, you haven't embarrassed me, at all," she insisted.
"I was too presumptuous. I can see you have worked very hard on this. And, since your efforts are for my benefit, it was impolite of me to be so familiar."
Rachel felt taken aback by this sudden show of propriety. "Not at all, Sheikh."
He smiled at her. "Please, Rachel. I insist you call me Zarif. It will be so much easier if you do. Sheikh makes me sound so...impersonal. Don't you think?" he added with a grin.
There was that easy charm again, Rachel observed. He had the ability to turn on a beguiling manner so very quickly. She was sure it was an ability that had been honed as a result of many encounters, many amorous episodes. She forced her attention up to the illuminated numbers that showed they had almost reached the top floor. Level twenty.
The lift slowed and, with a melodic sound, the doors opened onto a carpeted hallway. There was one passageway that served the two apartments on the top floor. One apartment faced the rear of the building, the other apartment faced out onto views that took in some of the most famous sights in this part of the city.
Rachel opened the door to that apartment and gestured for Zarif to enter. She closed the door behind her and followed him into the main sitting room of the ultra-modern apartment. She was familiar with the design, had viewed the place previously, but her breath was still taken away by the sheer opulence of the apartment. It was high-end, designed to impress, all hard edges, clean cut lines, luxurious in every detail. She thought it was amazing, and it should be, considering the asking price which was in the millions.
Rachel could only imagine what it would be like to live in such luxury. In fact, if she was really honest, she couldn't really begin to fathom what it would be like to live in such style.
She followed Zarif around the various rooms, answering his many questions, scrutinizing him for clues as to whether he approved of the place or not. He was such a difficult person to read in many respects, she told herself as she trailed around by his side. Every time she thought she saw a hint of approval, a suggestion that he liked the apartment, his features darkened and she was hit by another probing question.
Zarif was a man who knew exactly what he wanted. That much was crystal clear. She speculated what he would be like back in his native land. Would he behave differently from how he acted here, in London?
Of course he would, she chided herself. Being a creature of that harsh land must have bred in him a natural caution about all his affairs. She imagined, even with the protection of vast wealth, Qazhar must be a place that made men different from the ones she had been used to since leaving college.
Zarif was so much older than her, almost thirty, and she felt the difference in their ages in the way he was conducting himself here in this place. But then her experience couldn't match his. She laughed inwardly, feeling the absurdity of her observation. It wouldn't be hard, considering how limited was her experience with men.
Zarif turned to Rachel and peered at her, drawing her back to the present. "So?"
"What?" she replied, suddenly aware that she must have missed a question he'd asked.
He grinned. "Should I?" he asked.
Rachel frowned. "Should you what?"
Zarif quirked a brow. "Buy."
She was momentarily taken aback. Was he asking her is she thought he
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