Page 71 of Bred By the Sheikh

“She has poor judgment.”

“She chose me.”

“So did I.”

Chrissy went still.

Then she dropped her gaze to her notebook again, smiling.

***

By late afternoon, the worst of the direct sun had eased from the pool terrace.

Chrissy closed her laptop and stretched both arms above her head.

“You’ve been working for two hours,” I said.

“So have you.”

“I’m at my own estate.”

“That doesn’t make spreadsheets recreational.”

“I wasn’t using a spreadsheet.”

“You were answering emails with a face that suggested someone was about to lose a building.”

“No one lost a building.”

“Good. Productive day.”

I laughed.

She stood.

“What happens now?”

“Nothing for an hour.”

Chrissy stared at me.

“You mean nothing?”

“That’s right.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“There’s a pool.”

Her attention moved toward the private terrace.

“I saw it.”

“Did you bring swimwear?”

Her mouth tilted.

“I was told Dubai had pools.”