Beauty and the Sheikh(13)
“What happened?”
She swallowed hard and attempted a light shrug. She didn’t want to confess the memory, but she wanted him to understand. “Before I started modeling I’d never even been on a plane. My parents couldn’t afford to take us many places and drove when they did. They so rarely flew, and they were only on the plane that night—a small island hopper—to celebrate their twenty-year anniversary in the San Juan Islands.”
“I’m so sorry.”
She gave a light shrug, acknowledging his soft words. “Anyway, the first time I got on a plane was from Portland to my agency in New York and I was a mess by the time we landed.”
Rafiq squeezed her hand lightly and she glanced up at him through her lashes. “Go on.”
She stared at him, saw no scorn or mockery, but an encouraging softness that seemed to pluck some of the fear burrowed down to the marrow of her bones. “My second flight was from New York to Paris with my manager and a group of people. One of the models on board offered me a pill, said it would help with my fear. She promised it would knock me out for the duration of the flight, and it did.” A self-deprecating smile twisted her mouth. “A little too well, because I woke up being groped by the designer whose clothes we were going to be modeling.”
Fury flashed in Rafiq’s gaze before it hardened. “Did anybody witness that assault? Did you report him?”
“No one saw since it happened so fast. He’d already been sitting beside me, pumping me up with compliments until I fell asleep.” She shook her head. “I tried to tell my manager, but she told me not to make waves, that I was brand new and couldn’t afford to lose this opportunity. She told me…I must have imagined it, if I caught her drift.”
The harsh words flowing from Rafiq’s lips were in Arabic, so Holly wasn’t quite sure what he was saying, but judging by his savage expression and tone, she guessed them to be curses.
Did it really upset him that much? The idea momentarily stunned her. Then again, it had upset her at the time until she’d realized it wasn’t all that uncommon in the industry. Many things that should’ve been appalling were actually quite commonplace.
“I’m sorry, Holly. That must have been terrifying for you.”
It had been, but even more so it was frustrating to realize her back was against the wall. Of course she could’ve reported it to the authorities, but it would have been her word against the designer, and her career would’ve been in the toilet. And she and Andrew had desperately needed the money.
Rafiq lifted her hand and pressed a soft kiss against the inside of her palm. “How old were you, habiba? When you started your modeling career?” he asked quietly.
“I’d just turned eighteen.” She’d been so young. And so pitifully naïve. “I was discovered in a mall at seventeen and they wanted me to start then, but my brother insisted I wait until I was legally an adult.”
“At least he had enough sense to make that stipulation.”
Holly bit back a sigh. Why did he have to destroy such a nice, sweet moment with a jab at her brother? “I know you don’t agree, but Andrew has always kept my interests foremost in his mind. He’s actually quite protective of me.”
“Not nearly enough.” His gaze darkened and his hand tightened around hers. “But then, perhaps our idea of being protective is different. Had you been on my plane that day, you never would’ve found yourself in such a terrible situation.”
The image floating through her mind had a bit more of the tension easing from her muscles and a smile sliding across her face. “How chivalrous. Sheikh Rafiq Hakimi, air chauffeur to the modeling world.”
Her heart tripped at his soft husky laugh and the way his eyes crinkled around the edges. He really was striking, especially when he laughed and smiled, which seemed so rare. It erased the more sinister impression his scar could leave.
“Chauffer to the beautiful models of the world, hmm?” He grimaced and traced a finger over the lines in her palm. “I don’t think I would have had the patience to deal with such high-maintenance women, Holly.”
Why was he still holding her hand? More so, why was she letting him? But there was no desire to pull away, not with the way everything had gone all warm and soft inside her. The way she felt like an invisible bond linked them together for the moment. There was no anger or accusations. It felt…it felt exactly like it had the first time they’d met, when she’d been so utterly charmed by him.
He seemed to be waiting for her reply. Knowing she couldn’t let that remark about high-maintenance models slide entirely, she gave him a reproachful look. Then she ruined it by laughing.
“They’re not all high-maintenance, Rafiq. A few of the most down-to-earth women I know work in the fashion industry.”
Some of the lightness faded from his demeanor and his expression again turned grim. “And some of the most vile men, it would seem as well.”
Yes. She couldn’t deny it. Her gaze shifted to the flight attendant, who’d returned carrying a tray of food, which she set on the table in front of them. Holly noted the other woman didn’t look at Rafiq, and her hands seemed to tremble as she set down the cups of tea.
Interesting. Her brows drew together and she watched with mild curiosity as the woman disappeared again. “I’m surprised you would hire someone who fears you.”
Rafiq gave an indifferent shrug. “Many people fear me.”
“But once they get to know you, surely they change their mind?”
His gaze turned hooded and he released her hand to dish them each up a small plate of food. “Is that what you would prefer to think?”
“I…I just assumed,” she trailed off. “I don’t think you’re as mean and scary as you’d like people to believe, Rafiq.”
He didn’t look away, just held her gaze. “Never assume, Holly. And whatever you’re thinking, you’re wrong. I’m not, and never will be, a ‘nice guy.’”
No, he probably wasn’t. Her stomach sank as she accepted the small plate of food he’d handed her. The light mood that had momentarily settled had once again disappeared, leaving a heaviness in its place.
“Your fear of flying seems to have momentarily subsided.”
Rafiq’s calm observation made her blink in dismay. He was right. Usually she was tense and nauseated the entire duration of a flight, but somehow Rafiq had managed to distract her enough to not focus on it. And even now that he’d reminded her where she was, there was no debilitating fear. Just the slight heaviness in her stomach, but that had more to do with his warning he wasn’t a nice guy.
“Eat,” he murmured and met her gaze. “You’ll need your energy for later.”
Holly lifted her fork, not fearing the flight nearly as much as what would happen once they were in Monaco.
Chapter 7
As the limo slid smoothly through the light midday traffic toward Monaco, Rafiq knew he should be focusing on the files on his lap instead of the woman who sat across from him.
Despite her phobia of flying, Holly had done quite well the remainder of the flight until the plane landed. Perhaps the trip had exhausted her mentally, because she’d fallen asleep shortly after climbing into the limo. Now she lay half curled in her seat, her head against the leather and her eyes closed.
His reaction to Holly’s near incapacitating fear on the flight left him a bit uneasy. All animosity and ulterior motives had vanished, and he’d been assaulted with the need to ease her suffering, to calm her and comfort her. If she hadn’t been so deeply terrified, he might have tried to move her onto his lap and hold her in his arms. He’d been sorely tempted to but feared moving her at all would’ve only heightened her anxiety.
When she’d recounted her story, he’d been struck with a fury so potent he’d wanted to hit something. He wanted to seek out the bastard designer who’d tried to take advantage of her and act like the savage beast half the world thought him to be.
Her story had surprised him. Didn’t fit at all with the image he’d formed of her—a manipulative woman who knew exactly how to get what she wanted, even if it meant using her body to acquire it.
He hadn’t expected her to be so honest when he’d asked how often she’d traded her body for advancement in life. Whenever I needed to. He’d been prepared for another round of defensive lies.
And then her following offhand comment: So if you thought you were special… Of course he’d lied to her, because for that week he had let himself believe he was special and she’d seen beyond the scarred, bitter sheikh.
But no, that would have been a little too akin to a fairy tale. And he was not one to believe in them.
Holly stirred, making a soft noise of distress in her sleep. Her brows drew together in a frown before relaxing again a moment later.
Rafiq stared at her, unable to look away and hating himself for it. She’d been so young when she started modeling—was still young, and achingly beautiful. Her long lashes rested against creamy white cheeks. Lips that were so lush and full were parted slightly in sleep.