Chapter 3

Henry’s large hands automatically clasped her small waist protectively so she wouldn’t glimpse his thoughts. She gripped the lapels of his suit harder as she kissed him.

“You need to leave,” he said breathlessly after she let him have some air, “I have a board meeting.”

“Careful, love. You don’t want to appear like you’re neglecting your future wife.”

Henry rubbed her back lovingly. “I would never dream of neglecting you.”

“Good, that’s what I hope to hear. Will you come by tonight?”

“You know how crowded your house is, Dorothea,” Henry said dryly.

“How about I come to meet you at your house? After all, it’s going to be my place as well. I’ll be the lady of that lovely penthouse soon,” she said, eyes shining with anticipation.

Henry hoped she didn’t see him cringe slightly. She took his silence for a yes and blew him a kiss as she sauntered out.

The air conditioning was on, but suddenly the room felt very hot. Henry shrugged himself out of his suit and rolled up his sleeves as he settled behind his desk. He told himself he was being ridiculous. What was ridiculous, though, was his inability to accept the fact that he was soon going to be married to Dorothea Smith, who was about eight years his senior. Although the night he’d first set his eyes on her, he hadn’t guessed that was her real age. He was still amazed at how young she looked though he knew, of course, that it wasn’t without effort.

They had met at a private business party at the Ritz Carlton Hotel in Dubai. Henry, as usual, was standing with his friends — a group of youngish men who, like him, also flourished immensely in the business world and had been born into massive privilege. They attended nice charity dinners and fundraisers like these ones in order to look good in the public eye when in reality, all they cared about was partying, sex, travel, and enduring the boredom of their monotonous corporate lives, so they could simply afford to keep living in the luxury they had become accustomed to.

Henry slightly resented them and was privately condescending to them because he arrogantly believed they were beneath him in terms of focus and determination. Yet, he knew he wasn’t just going to saunter out of their lives because the brutality of loneliness scared him. So he kept them around no matter how much they bored him.

Life hadn’t taken an interesting turn until Dorothea Smith strutted into his life with her voluptuous curvaceous body that nearly sent him and his friends reeling the first second they saw her.

Dorothea had chosen to wear a sexy bandage red dress that accentuated every inch of her body, and all her wavy russet hair tumbled down her back in all its glory, and though he didn’t usually go for women with loads of makeup on their faces, he had decided that night that Dorothea was going to be a one-time conquest. She would be an interesting addition to his collection. Henry had watched her as she floated through the party, greeting everyone, serving up compliments, and flattening her personality so that she didn’t seem domineering as the life of the party even though she was.

Her name was known far and wide — Dorothea Smith, heiress to Smith Enterprises, involved in the day-to-day running of the company, a 43-year-old divorcee, and a well-known socialite within San Francisco’s rich corporate circles. Henry willed her eyes to meet his as they walked through the party via separate steps, but of course, he was well aware that an Alpha female like her so used to basking in the attention of men would never make the first move.

He took two glasses of martini from the server, and when Dorothea seemed alone, studying complicated artwork with too many colors, he walked over.

“So, how long do you think they’ll let you stay with us, Dorothea Smith?” Henry interrupted from behind.

Dorothea whipped around, her gorgeous hair and curves whipping with her. She looked Henry over and smiled in appreciation.

“What are you talking about, Mr. Sullivan? I wasn’t aware you spoke in riddles.”

“Ah, she knows my name,” Henry said.

“Everyone here knows your name.”

“I could say the same for you.”

Dorothea cocked her head and prised one of the martini glasses from his hands.

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“Maybe because I don’t understand it?”

Henry deliberately came closer. “I meant, how long are the angels going to let you stay with us on Earth? Surely you were born so we humans could truly decipher the real intricacies of beauty.

Dorothea’s breath stalled, then she burst out laughing.

“What an introduction. Well, you have a way with words, Henry Sullivan. I’m impressed.”

Henry leaned and spoke in her ears. “There is so much more I could impress you with. Would you like to see?”

Dorothea’s eyes glinted in anticipation. “Oh, I would very much like to see.”

They ended up booking a hotel room that night at the Ritz Carlton Hotel. Dorothea was a tigress in bed with such great sexual appetites Henry was sure they were evenly matched. It was the beginning of a steamy affair that began in Dubai and continued in San Francisco. And that was all it was meant to be — just an affair.

It would have remained so if he had gotten the contract he badly needed from the Qatar government. Henry had applied repeatedly to have a Sullivan Corporation in Qatar. He had already succeeded in establishing the company in the Middle East, mainly in Bahrain, Israel, Abu Dhabi, Dubai, and Oman. Qatar, however, kept denying his applications on the basis that they didn’t want their country overrun with American expatriates.

All of Henry’s pleas as regards the mouth-watering economic advantages had fallen on deaf ears. His parents had not understood his enthusiasm and his frustrations with Qatar’s government. They had not even considered grand ambitions in the Middle East, and as such, they urged Henry to let it go, unaware that their son’s dream lay in some type of corporate hegemony they could barely comprehend. Henry, of course, didn’t listen to them, but even as he devised more strategies and tried to bring them to fruition, he kept meeting up with brick walls.

It was amid the whole conundrum that he’d reluctantly attended a private charity dinner, and Dorothea Smith had strutted into his life.

At first, Henry didn’t discuss business with her. He simply indulged himself with her, having sex until the moment when he knew he would be bored of her, and then he would quietly eviscerate her from his life. It was what he regularly did with women. When he got tired of one, he seemingly disposed of them but tried not to do it without spite or anger. Hell hath no fury than a scorned woman, after all, and Henry was much too smart to leave a string of scorned women in his wake.

He had not properly thought through how he would dispose of Dorothea because she was like a rare type of sexual wonder. There was always so much to learn from her. Like a fountain that never dried up. Always unfurling and unveiling.

One day, Dorothea had been on a long phone call with some officers about delayed merchandise. Henry was impressed by her negotiation and persuasion skills, even over the phone. After the call, she needlessly regaled him with tales of business woes and triumphs. By the universal law of reciprocation, he had felt a need to tell her something too about his business experiences, and what better topic to discuss than his current dilemma? Dorothea was kind and sympathetic toward him, and she resolved to help him with the entire fiasco. Three days later, she was on a plane to Qatar. When she came back, she had in her hands the form given to her by the government for Henry to fill out to become a bona fide business owner in the country.

Henry felt a soar of emotions in his chest — shock, relief, excitement, and even a bit of jealousy that in three days, a woman had executed what a man of his stature had been unable to do. He had wanted to collect the form, but Dorothea had snatched it from his hands.

“Uh…not so fast, handsome,” she said teasingly.

“Why not?” Henry asked, frowning slightly.

“Everything is in place, but you see, there’s just one small little caveat.”

The suspense-filled words hung in the air for just about a minute.

“Well, are you going to spill?” Henry asked impatiently.

“Getting this done was no small feat. You see, the current government wants to regain popularity among the people in time for the upcoming election. They don’t want the people to keep believing that American expats have been largely responsible for economic advancement in the last four years. So, their refusal wasn’t personal. It was an economic and political decision made by the highest-ranking officials in the government.”

“Interesting. So how did you get this done?”

“Oh, it’s not a hundred percent done yet. Naturally, Smith Enterprises has friends in high places, and since I’m currently the major face of the company, I’ve gotten myself some nice friends as well. One of them helped me get the form as soon as I mentioned you are my fiancé.”

Henry blinked. “What?”

“I know you heard me, darling.”

“You told them I’m your fiancé?”

“I don’t know how long you have been doing business with the Arabs, but they respect the marriage institution very much. They couldn’t refuse a longstanding business partner’s husband the right to expand his business interests.”

“And there wasn’t any other way to go about this?”

“This was the easiest way,” Dorothea said evasively.

Henry shook his head. “I don’t know if I’m ready to get married, Dorothea.”

“Henry, you’re thirty-five, for crying out loud.”

Henry shrugged. “That might be old for a woman, but it’s a young marriageable age for a man.”

“I’ll make it easy for you. Marry me and have your company in Qatar. Refuse and stay stuck with no upward trajectory for your business this year. You have just three days to think this through,” Dorothea declared before picking up her bag. At the door, she paused and turned to him. “Not many women are always willing to go the extra mile these days, Henry. Think this through carefully.”

The door slammed behind her.

Henry closed his eyes in frustration as soon as she left. Usually, when he was sexually involved with a woman, he would always make it clear from the start that marriage was off the table. It would never happen. Never ever.

But with a 43-year-old divorcee, he had seen no reason to do such. But now, here she was, sinking her hooks into him and trying to manipulate him to the altar.

It was never going to happen, not even in Dorothea’s wildest dreams.

Or so he had thought.