Stormy Vows - Iris Johansen [117]
Ahmet Kahlid's appearance was not exactly dashing, she noticed from the corner of her eye. His large, sturdy body was dressed in a gray business suit that screamed of Savile Row. He was well over six feet, with dark hair and beard and expressive dark eyes, which twinkled like bright buttons. He reminded her vaguely of a big, cozy teddy bear.
Jane pulled a bottle out of the wine rack and examined the label with satisfaction before placing it on the bar.
“No, not that one!” Jake called sharply, rising to his feet. “Excuse me, Ahmet, but there's a rather good wine I want you to try.”
He strode across the room and behind the bar. Jane watched in surprise as he reached for a bottle of quite ordinary vintage. The one she had chosen was much better, she thought indignantly. She opened her lips to tell him this, then closed them quickly as she met Jake Dominic's dark, furious gaze.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he muttered in a harsh undertone. “I thought even Brockmeyer would have the sense to send a substitute, with Kahlid here.”
“Why should he?” Jane hissed back indignantly. “I'm perfectly capable. Mr. Brockmeyer trusts me completely.”
Jake Dominic muttered an imprecation beneath his breath and thrust the bottle at her. “I don't want to hear a word out of you, do you understand?” he asked, his eyes flashing. “And tell Brockmeyer I want a different steward by dinner.”
He turned and walked back toward Kahlid, the smooth mask once more in place on his dark face. Jane stared after him, her face flushed with confusion and hurt at the sheer injustice of the attack. As she turned away, she intercepted Kahlid's curious, speculative gaze.
Jane was conscious of several such glances from Kahlid during lunch as she carefully obeyed Jake's orders. Not one word did she utter as she served each course and kept the wine-glasses full. When not needed, she stood at rigid attention behind Jake Dominic's chair, her blazing golden eyes staring straight before her.
It was a building fury that caused her to make the blunder that was to have such far-reaching consequences. Her hand was shaking slightly as she refilled Kahlid's glass for the third time, and she splashed a little on the white damask tablecloth.
Without thinking she murmured absently in Arabic, “Forgive me, effendi,” and dabbed at the spreading stain with a linen napkin.
Kahlid broke off what he was saying to Dominic to stare in surprise at Jane. “But this is a wonderful surprise, Jake. Why did you not tell me your little servant spoke Arabic?”
Dominic shot her a furious look before smiling coolly at Kahlid. “I have to confess to ignorance, Ahmet. I wasn't aware that she did.”
Kahlid smiled gently at Jane and said in Arabic. “It warms my heart to hear my language on your lips, little one.” He sighed mournfully, reminding her once more of a cuddlesome teddy bear. “One gets homesick for the sound of one's own tongue.”
Jane's golden eyes were glowing with sympathy at his words. The sheikh was really quite nice, she thought warmly. She, too, knew the longing to hear one's own language in a foreign land.
“I spent two years in Kuwait as a young child,” she replied gently in Arabic. “I am pleased that my small accomplishment brings you pleasure.”
“You may go, Jane,” Dominic interrupted abruptly. “Please give Mr. Brockmeyer our compliments.”
“No! No!” Kahlid protested, his shining eyes running eagerly over her, from the bright red curls to the tip of her sensible brown leather shoes.