Chapter 1

No one knew her name. She went by Nicole White. She was a tall, slim, redhead with nice breasts and stood over six foot tall without heels. Her green eyes were lustrous but at the same time could look dead like a shark’s eyes. Her beautiful face and creamy complexion reminded people of a very young Maureen O’Hara.

Dressed in a green silk dress with matching three inch heels, All in all she was a sylph. Tall, slim and beautiful. Nicole nursed a glass of white wine while chatting with the short, petite female bartender. At that moment there were just the two of them. They talked about women’s things as Nicole watched through the mirror on the wall behind the bar as a man of Arab descent walked in. He was short, fat, with a dark moustache, hair and eyes. She watched him eyeing her up and down as if he were looking over a fine Arabian Stallion with a glow. He didn’t realize her studying him. Finally he walked over and asked, “May I buy you a drink?”

“I still have some left in this glass,” she looked at him for the first time. His gaze fell to her breasts as he continued to talk. She had yet to meet a man who looked her in the eyes instead of her chest. Yes, she had no bra on but she frequently leered at a man’s crotch as blatantly as he was at her breasts. She was aware that her nipples tented the top of her silky dress and even some women had given her an eye. More of an appraisal than lust. Unless that woman was a dyke.

“Then how about dinner?”

“Dinner and?” she smirked at him. He was dressed in an expensive suit but all the money he had couldn’t hide his portly frame. He looked about five foot-six, estimated weight of over two hundred pounds, dark hair and eyes. Typical man from the Middle East.

“We can discuss that over dinner,” he grinned. Except for being so heavy, his facial features looked like Saddam Hussein. His suit was expensive as well as his silk shirt and tie. ‘The guy at least has some good taste in clothing, ‘ Nicole quickly thought. She was hungry so she allowed her stomach make the decision for her.

“Perhaps we can do that but with no strings attached. Besides I don’t even know your name.”

“Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Emir Omar Assan, one of the rulers from Qatar,” he kissed her hand.

“Nicole White. Now as for having dinner, again, no strings attached.”

The man readily agreed. She stepped off the bar stool to join him. “See ya,” she told the bartender as she smiled back at her.

They walked side by side across the large lobby of the luxury hotel to Sam’s a famous restaurant in Orlando, Florida. The hotel was a Marriott which many tourists booked their stays while attending central Florida’s Disney World and other attractions. They were seated in a darkened booth with only the light of a candle burning in a fancy jar. They were handed menus and chose their drinks.

He had a martini while Nicole ordered white wine.

“I thought that Muslims didn’t drink,” she stated.

“In this country we do. When in Rome do what the Romans do,” he grinned.

Nicole just shrugged it off as if it didn’t bother her.

“The prices are through the roof,” she complained, looking down the line.

“Order anything you wish, price is not an issue,” Assan stated.

“Then I’ll have the lobster.”

“A filet medium for me with all the trimmings,” Assan followed.

“Right away, sir,” the waiter proclaimed.

“So tell me about yourself,” Nicole put her elbows on the table and folded her hands, resting her chin on them. “What do you do for a living?”

“I’m into oil,” Assan stated. “I am Qatar’s number one refiner.”

“So you’re the one who makes me pay more at the pump,” she looked amused.

“That is not so, it is the speculators that up the price. We sell for thirty-seven dollars a barrel, the rest of them are the Wall Street brokers upping the price so they can get rich.”