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Amira was right. Asad would be less likely to throw a tantrum if Mila was there. He eyed his sister thoughtfully. “She’s about your size. Do you have a dress that she could wear? Something to match her eyes?”
“Of course. Are you planning on kidnapping her and forcing the dress over her head?” Amira asked in a bored tone. “I don’t imagine that will go over well with her.”
“Is Liyah going to be there tonight?” She and Asad had been flying back and forth for the better part of a month while she stocked one of the new libraries she’d opened. “Mila will definitely go if she thinks she can see her friend.”
Amira frowned. “No, which means that I’m going to be bored to tears.”
“You’re never bored, Amira. You’re too busy flirting and sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. I’ll deal with Mila. You just make sure she has something to wear tonight.”
“Asad was much better at this than you are,” Amira smirked as she stood. “Tonight should be exciting. I’m already looking forward to it.”
Rashid grunted. “Out.”
When she didn’t move right away, he grabbed a pillow and hurled it her way. She spun on her heel and marched out, muttering something under her breath.
Rashid glanced at the clock. He still had some time. He could call Mila, but that would only give her a chance to object.
Instead, he called Ori. The man primarily drove Asad around, but his brother was out of town—and Rashid knew that Ori knew how to keep quiet. After giving him Mila’s address, he headed for the shower.
She might be a little upset at first, but women were easily dazzled. As soon as she saw the dress, she’d be on board. By the end of the night, she’d be putty in his hands.
Mila crossed her arms over her chest and glowered at the gorgeous Sharif. “I’m not wearing that,” she said as she eyed the beautiful amber dress. “I’m not going to a gala. I wouldn’t even be here, except that Sahaar thought it would be insulting if I ignored such a lovely invitation—which I actually consider to be kidnapping.”
Rather than begging, Amira tossed the dress down on the bed and sat on the edge. “My brothers are spoiled,” she said with a shrug. “It’s never occurred to them that they might not get what they want.” She cocked an eye at the other girl and smiled. “I like you. You’re making Rashid’s life difficult, and that’s fun for me.”
“I don’t want to make his life difficult. I don’t want to make his life anything. I just wanted to work for him—I mean, for his company.” Mila sighed and sank into the loveseat that faced the bedroom window. It was bad enough that the driver had firmly requested her presence, but now she was expected to attend some stuffy gala?
“So don’t go for him,” Amira said with a shrug. “Go for me. Liyah is usually the person who makes these events bearable for me, but she’s not attending tonight.” She smiled warmly, the kind of smile that reflected in her eyes. “I’d love for us to be friends.”
Mila softened at that. She hadn’t made many friends in Dubai, and she had liked Amira the few times that they had hung out. From what Liyah had told her, Amira did nothing that wasn’t deliberate. She had a reason for wanting Mila at the gala, and it had nothing to do with being friends, but Liyah had also mentioned that Amira had a big heart. She wouldn’t hurt someone deliberately.
Even as Mila was reminding herself that she could be a little too trusting, she stood and reached for the dress. “You just happened to find this hanging in the back of your closet?” she asked as she let the shimmery fabric flow through her fingers.
“I may have gone shopping. Don’t worry. Rashid paid.” A mischievous look twinkled in Amira’s eye.
Mila shook her head. She had a feeling that she didn’t want to know more.
Amira had an excellent eye. Not only did the off-the-shoulder dress fit every curve as it dipped low over her cleavage and hugged her hips, but the long slit offered a teasing preview of her long legs. Paired with matching amber shoes, the dress was striking against her sun-kissed skin.
Mila felt like a princess.
“There are some perks for having caught the attention of a sheikh,” Amira murmured as she appraised Mila. “You look beautiful.”
“Rashid just wants to be my friend,” Mila protested weakly.
Amira gestured to the vanity in the closet, and Mila sat down. Rashid’s sister began to sweep up her hair.
“If you believe that, you’re more naive than Liyah,” Amira snorted.
For someone who’d had servants catering to her for her whole life, Amira was talented at updos. The woman’s hands expertly brushed through her hair, and Mila closed her eyes and sighed. She’d never really had the money to get her hair done before. Most of her haircuts were at the hands of friends after they’d shared a shot or two, but feeling Amira’s hands massage her scalp and gently stroke through her hair was luxurious. She relaxed and submitted herself.
Before Mila knew it, she looked every bit as elegant as the Sharif princess herself. Her hair fell in curling tendrils from a sophisticated twist, framing her face.
“Perfect,” Amira said with a satisfied smile. “Now, how about some sexy smoky eye shadow and dark cat-eye eyeliner?”
Mila frowned. “How about just something natural? I’m not really into the whole show-stopper make-up.”
“Fine,” Amira said as she rolled her eyes and sighed. “But I’m picking the lipstick and eye-shadow color.”
