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Arvio, holding his aching jaw, glared at Rashid. “Do you really think that we wouldn’t take precautions? What’s happened to you? You used to be one of us. We brought you here to have a little fun!”
“This isn’t fun for me, not anymore. I have to uphold my family’s reputation,” Rashid growled. “Now get dressed. We’re taking these women home before this gets even more out of hand.” He found Arvio’s pants and threw them at him. “Now.”
Stalking out of the bedroom, he slammed the door behind him. He couldn’t remember ever being so angry in his life. Gritting his teeth, he did his best to straighten up the hotel room so the managers wouldn’t be too upset. Luckily, his friends must have understood because a few minutes later, all of the would-be revelers paraded out with shame in their eyes. He swept them with a stern look before herding the four out of the suite.
The elevator ride was quiet all the way down, but when they stepped out of the elevator, all hell broke loose. Flashbulbs went off in their faces, and questions filled the air as a handful of reporters rushed them, their cameras pointed right at them.
“Heads down,” he hissed to the girls as he shielded them with his body. Ignoring the onslaught, he pushed through the crowd and out the door. Luckily, the hotel had sensed trouble and pulled his car right up to the front. Getting the others safely into the car was difficult with the girls swaying on their heels and his friends openly cursing at the reporters, but eventually, he managed to get them all crowded in there.
Safely getting everyone back to their respective hotels and homes seemed to take forever. He didn’t pull up to the palace again until the sun’s rays were barely peeking over the horizon.
Every light was burning in Asad’s suite, and Rashid knew that word had already reached them.
“The diplomats’ daughters?” the older brother roared as Rashid dragged his tired body in. “Have you lost your mind! There are hundreds of women you could have chosen from in Dubai, and you picked Diplomat Ricci and Kowalski’s daughters? Father is already trying to do damage control.”
Of course his brother didn’t give him the benefit of the doubt. Why should he? Up until the past two years, Rashid had been just like his friends, drinking and sleeping his way across the world. But he’d grown tired of the lifestyle and wanted to be taken seriously. When Asad had introduced his plans to Dubai, not only to invest but also build luxury condos, Rashid hadn’t been far behind with his own idea for the sports complex.
The truth was that he had a head for business, and he wanted to prove it to the world. Unfortunately, he couldn’t even seem to get his own family to take him seriously.
“I’m tired. I’m going to bed,” Rashid muttered as he brushed past Asad. His older brother’s arm shot out, and Asad gripped him tight.
“We’re not done here,” Asad hissed. “I want answers.”
Anger swelled inside him, and Rashid pulled out of Asad’s grasp. “What does it matter? You won’t believe me anyway. Go bed your wife and leave me the hell alone.”
Months ago, Asad had been struggling to get his business plan off the ground because the investors wouldn’t take him seriously, but when he’d shown up with a pretend fiancée on his arm, that all had changed. They’d begun to see him as a family man, and he got his plan pushed through.
Rashid had actually admired the underhanded tactic, at least he did until Asad fell in love and married the American beauty for real.
Liyah. The soft-spoken woman who had captured Dubai’s heart.
“I’d love to be in bed with my wife,” Asad snapped. “Instead, I’m cleaning up after you.” He stopped suddenly and stared. “That’s it.”
“What’s it?”
A slow smile spread over the older brother’s face. “I think it’s time to show Dubai that you’re hanging up your reckless lifestyle for good.”
“I have,” Rashid shot back. “Though I don’t know why I’m wasting my breath on someone as thick-headed as you.”
“You’re going to take a wife,” Asad said, ignoring them. “Another Sharif wedding should help this scandal blow over. Amira has a talent for this kind of thing. I’ll speak to her in the morning and get something set up. Someone docile and quiet. Something that’ll help your image improve greatly.”
Rashid’s mouth gaped open, and he stared at his brother. Was Asad really standing there, planning his future as though Rashid wasn’t even there? “I’m not marrying.”
“I have a feeling that Father is going to say something different.”
Rashid paled slightly. Navine Sharif had only recently returned from a diplomatic tour of Europe, and—like Asad—was not likely to listen to Rashid’s explanation about the evening.
Asad’s plan would help mollify their father. Inhaling slowly, Rashid mentally cursed his friends for landing him in this position. This was what happened when he tried to help a friend. He’d learned a good and hard lesson tonight.
It was time to stop making decisions based on his heart.
“Fine,” he hissed angrily. “I’ll marry, but I’ll never be the poor whipped sap that you’ve turned into. Tell Amira that this is a business arrangement only.”
Marching past Asad, he strode angrily down the hall until he reached his own suite, slamming the door behind himself. Leaning heavily against it, he tried to wait for his temper to settle.
Wife. Rashid ran a hand over his face. He needed to find the most submissive and quiet woman in Dubai to become his wife, or this was never going to work.
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