The Sheikh's Purchased Bride by Holly Rayner Read Free Book Online Page B

back into the couch and Amie instinctively leaned back against him. He resumed playing the movie and the two sat up for an hour or more watching the rest of the film.
     
    By the end of it, Malik made sure to mock her for getting emotional, insisting that deep down she was an old film lover, just like him.
     
    Amie laughed, just as she noticed she was leaning into the crook of his neck, and the two of them sat up suddenly.
     
    Sensing that she was about to leave, Malik grabbed Amie’s hand and rubbed his thumb across her palm. “I really do think you’re a brilliant actress,” he said lowly. “Anyone who can pretend to adore me for an entire evening deserves an award, for sure.”
     
    She offered a wry smile. “Isn’t women adoring you what got you into this mess in the first place?”
     
    He let out a bested humph noise and the two locked eyes once more. Suddenly Amie felt overwhelmed with unprofessional feelings towards her new boss. Either she was ridiculously exhausted, or he looked absolutely handsome—even more so than she’d realized before.
     
    She blinked and reached up to brush her hand through his hair. As soon as she made the move, she knew she shouldn’t have, and a moment later she could see his lips moving closer to hers.
     
    Great job, Amie. You finally meet an attractive billionaire who makes you laugh. One problem: he just so happens to be your boss. Don’t. Be. So. Stupid!
     
    Amie backed away from the oncoming kiss with extreme effort not to make the movement too awkward or hurried. She breathed out and mentally patted herself on the back for practicing some willpower. She smiled at Malik then got to her feet.
     
    “I should probably get some sleep,” she said awkwardly.
     
    “Of course, yeah,” he said as he stood from the couch, sounding equally as awkward. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
     
    She nodded. “Goodnight, Malik.”
     
    “Goodnight.”

 
    SEVEN

The next morning began with familiar steps as Amie made her way from her bedroom back downstairs to the kitchen. After her late-night rendezvous with Malik, she’d slept in well after 11am, and jumped up, dressing quickly as soon as she realized what time it was.
     
    The smell of cooking hit her as soon as her feet touched the tiled floor. The house was even more majestic in the light of day than she remembered; the kitchen was beyond large, with marble countertops, elaborate ceiling carvings, and a kitchen island with two stainless steel sinks embedded in it. Pendant lights hung from the ceiling, illuminating the way to the feast that awaited her.
     
    Staring at the counter, Amie nearly salivated, and was only interrupted when Malik came up behind her, wearing navy blue dress pants and a button-up shirt. Despite having been up just as long, if not longer, than her, he looked perfectly rested.
     
    He reached his hand up and scratched his shoulders, smiling bashfully. “No hello this morning?” he asked.
     
    She eyed her fake fiancé playfully, raising her brow uncertainly.
     
    “You walked right by me at the staircase,” he explained.
     
    Amie blushed as she walked to the kitchen island and began thumbing through the delectable dishes before her. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t see you!”
     
    “Momentary lapse in judgment on my part,” he smiled. “Should have guessed you’d go straight for the kitchen.”
     
    Her heart fluttered suddenly. Damn him for being so cute and sarcastic.
     
    He approached, handing her a plate and a fork before moving to where the food was laid out. “I made breakfast,” he said and began pointing to the various items. “It’s a traditional Middle-Eastern breakfast. We have freshly-made pita bread, hummus, hard boiled eggs, olives, pickles, tomato and cucumber salad, fresh jams and cheeses. Take your pick.”
     
    “You’re not saying you made all this?” Amie laughed in disbelief. “You must have a personal chef, or something, right?”
     
    “What can I say? I like to