When would you be mine? - Completed

Chapter Three

"Me!" She squeaked. "You've got to be kidding. I can't be your wife!"

Not quite the reaction he expected, then again, maybe so. "You once said you would...."

"I know what I said Malik. However, that didn't include marrying my boss."

"I need you to do this; it's not forever, Helena. Look upon it as another job; you'll get well paid for your time."

"That's right, we women would do anything for money," she snapped. "Thomas put you up to this, didn't he? Yeah, right, let the frumpy girl play the part, she's so desperate, she'll do it, it's not like anyone would want to marry her!"

"Now just hold it," Malik snapped. "I never called you frumpy or desperate. You know this isn't what I wanted either." She sucked in a breath, stepping back. He shook his dark head. "I don't want to marry anyone at this time, but my father is forcing my hand. If you don't agree to this I would be forced to marry another one and I would be tied to her for the rest of my life and won't be coming back. You would no longer be working for me." She paled to turn around, hugging her arms.

"How long before I have to give you an answer," she offered.

"An hour, then I would contact my father." It sounded so final, breaking her heart to let him walk out of her apartment, leaving her to pace. Fighting what she already knew what she was going to do. Of course she would do this because he asked her to. However, she feared this would change everything for her. Would he still want her around when it was over?

The bonus flashed through her mind. Dare she ask to dismiss, although she would need to find out if she would still be paid as before. She could still work in the background as before, as his wife, though really his assistant. She could do that, for him. Hadn't he already done so much for her, took her in, under his wing? Paid over what she expected to receive, so she could send money home to her father and siblings. When it was all done she could go home.

Probably best. In such close quarters with Malik was a dangerous game to play with her heart. Taking a deep breath she left her apartment and headed up to the top floor and walked towards his closed door to his office. Again she paused to take another deep breath before she entered.

She knocked before entering only to gasp and reach out with her hand to stop him from making that call. "Yes Malik, I would marry you," she said softly. He waved her in though still removed the receiver and made that call. She sank into a chair in front of his desk. Yes I would marry you because I love you and for a little while I can pretend I'm really married to you, popped into her head. Foolish dreams. He placed a hand over the mouthpiece.

"I might have a better plan. We would announce our engagement after a few days. Maybe we won't have to go through with it." Well, let's just shoot that fantasy in the foot. She should be relieved but wasn't. It still meant she would have to leave after it was finished, no matter, if they married or not. "Hello father," he opted to speak in English. "I have wonderful news, I'm engaged. I had been waiting for the right moment, slowly introduce her to the family but you have forced my hand. However, I want a month. A month to introduce her to my world, starting here in London, so wouldn't be such a big shock. Yes, I have kept her under wraps.

No, of course, I won't announce our engagement until we arrive home. I would be slowly introducing her at functions as my date at this stage. Oh, yes, she is everything you would want in a daughter-in-law. Demure."

Helena eased back into the chair seeing where he is going with this. "Attentive." Better than being obedient. "Beyond class." A play on words. "Her face would launch a thousand ships." Now he was just being silly to chuckle. He raised a brow to press her lips together. Shaking his head he converted to Arabic to finally replace the receiver. "That seems to have done the trick for now. How long it would last is yet to be seen, so you agreed to marry me." A silence fell between them. "Why?'