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“I find it makes for fewer mistakes and not so many regrets. Due diligence is not a bad thing.” Daddy might love to act from his gut. She didn’t. Given that Malid had done something to get himself booted from the family, she was betting he had his own hot temper.
She held Malid’s gaze, daring him to challenge her decision-making process. He just smiled back, those lush lips curved with a secret. “You’ve never known the adrenaline rush of making a split second decision and living with the consequences, be they good or bad?”
“I don’t like surprises.” She let the words out in a flat tone. It was about time he learned she wasn’t going to be swayed.
Just as fast, the smile went to a blaze that took her breath. He swept out a hand. “Let us forget about business and enjoy our meal.” He dug into the food, started asking if she had any hobbies, spoke of places he had seen in his travels and asked if she traveled much.
She had, but she was still suspicious of this sudden shift. “Daddy was in the air more than he was on the ground, and with my mother’s passing, he started taking me with him. That and the nanny of the week got me to college. Daddy’s a demanding individual, and not many of the hired help ever could put up with him for more than a few months.”
“Did you not grow tired of the constant change?” Malid asked. He leaned forward. “I ask, having had the same caretakers my entire life.”
She had to smile at that. “Makes you adept at getting people to do what you want them to, doesn’t it?”
He offered her more flatbread. She was tempted, but had to decline—she’d been pigging out on the hummus. Malid helped himself and said, “My guess is you are very good at what you do.”
“Fishing there?” He gave her a blank look, and she said, “It’s called catching more flies with honey than you do with vinegar, and you’re spreading the sweet on a tad too thick there.”
“I will keep that in mind as we go forward in business then.”
***
After lunch, Malid suggested a walk through the gardens. Nigella agreed. They kept to safe topics—Nigella was interested in what would grow in the heat, and Malid talked of irrigation and shading.
It seemed to him that a chemistry simmered between them, but he did not know yet what to make of that. Would it be useful—or a distraction? Nigella was certainly a pleasant visual that kept snagging his stare as she bent to sniff at the jasmine or turned to admire one of the many fountains that helped to cool the courtyard and the house. He liked her long legs, the way she moved—he even liked the touch of a drawl that slipped into her words when she spoke of home.
She seemed, too, to approve of his palace.
The doors stood open on the ground floor and sheer, white drapery billowed out from the rooms. The splash of the fountains also made for a pleasant background sound. He plucked a hibiscus—a vivid red bloom and presented it to her. Her cheeks pinked, but she seemed not to care for a great deal of flattery.
A blunt woman, he thought. Refreshingly so. But quite as determined to get her way as he was. He would take his time with this deal, he decided. There was chemistry between them—they were alike in some things, he thought, and that intrigued him. But business was business, and he could not let an attraction make him stupid. One thing he had learned over the past few months was the value of patience—and he was determined to see Nigella be the one to give on the matter of this lease.
Chapter 3
Malid sent Nigella home in his car—Fadin would drive her back to her hotel. He thought about going along—it was a two-hour drive and he wanted to spend more time with her, to figure her out. But Nigella was starting to look decided jet lagged. And she had said she needed time to think.
He agreed to meet her at the temporary headquarters for Opell Oil in two days. Malid planned to use the t
ime to find out more about her and any possible weaknesses in Opell Oil. It was possible he could structure a price that would make a lease far more appealing to her and her father.
Watching the car pull away, Malid wondered if such a woman as her had a husband. He did not think so. She wore no ring, and she had the air of someone whose life had been consumed by business. He knew about that, too. Until he had earned his father’s disapproval, Malid’s life and ambition had been to be the CEO of the family’s company. Now…now he had more time on his hands than he knew what to do with.
He had started a few small companies—technology ventures, which would encourage young people to stay in Al-Sarid, and a few charities that could help some of the nomadic tribes deal with the ever-changing world. He had grown tired of any kind of night clubbing years ago—and in some ways he thought it a pity he had never married. A family would have been a good distraction for him. But he had never had time before now.
Perhaps he was more like Nigella in that way—both of them consumed by business, by making the deal, by being the best.
He headed back inside the palace, thinking of her and her expressive, amethyst eyes.
***
Malid stepped out of the vehicle, grateful that Fadin had insisted on driving him to this meeting with Nigella. It gave him extra time to think of possible tactics he might have to use and to catch up with his other ventures, which he had neglected over the past two days.
He had kept himself busy digging into Opell Oil. Given how oil prices had not been good of late—rising and falling and being utterly undependable—the company was looking to diversify. They had been quietly investing into other technologies—wind and solar power among them. That could be useful for Al-Sarid and another way to encourage Opell to seek a lease—with options for solar and wind installations.
He’d also received word from one of his sources that Opell Oil had been speaking with officials in the neighboring country of Tawzar, which was eager to get the Opell pipeline.
Tawzar had struggled to keep up with both newer technology and oil production. He knew they could greatly use the revenues from such a deal, and that might lead them to attempt giving Opell far more than the Adjalane family intended to offer. However, Tawzar had an unstable government—that was the greatest drawback. Malid would use that if he needed to, but he hoped he could secure a deal with Nigella today without mention of Tawzar.
Opell Oil had set up temporary offices in a high rise that blended technology with old world charm of the coastal city in Dubai. It was interesting they had not chosen to lease space in Al-Sarid. He did not believe in signs and omens—but he did believe in the unspoken message. This message clearly said that Opell Oil had not yet fixed on Al-Sarid as their best option for a pipeline.
