The Sheikh’s Secret Son (Sharjah Sheikhs Book 3) Read online

  The Sheikh’s Secret Son

  The Sharjah Sheikhs Series Book Three

  Leslie North

  Contents

  Sharjah Sheikhs

  The Sheikh’s Secret Son

  Blurb

  Mailing List

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Epilogue

  End of The Sheikh’s Secret Son

  Thank You!

  Sneak Peek

  Sharjah Sheikhs

  The Sheikh’s Forced Bride

  The Sheikh’s Accidental Heir

  The Sheikh’s Secret Son

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. Published in the United Kingdom by Relay Publishing.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, published, distributed, displayed, performed, copied or stored for public or private use in any information retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any mechanical, photographic or electronic process, including electronically or digitally on the Internet or World Wide Web, or over any network, or local area network, without written permission of the author.

  Cover Design by LJ Anderson of Mayhem Cover Creations

  RELAY PUBLISHING EDITION, MARCH 2017

  Copyright © 2017 Relay Publishing Ltd.

  www.relaypub.com

  The Sharjah Sheikhs Series

  Book Three

  Leslie North

  Blurb

  Sheikh Zaid is always in control. As the son of the Sultan of Sharjah and the middle of three brothers, he’s spent his whole life being groomed for leadership. When a diplomatic tour from the U.S. comes to Sharjah, he makes it his business to ensure that he makes a good impression, but the surprising return of an old flame shocks him to the core.

  Rebecca Reid is a foreign aid representative with no time for ostentatious displays. She wants to see the gritty realities of Sharjah, not the polished façade. But when she finds the diplomatic tour she’s joined is being led by the same man she had a wild affair with five years ago, it complicates matters.

  Now, Zaid and Rebecca will have to join forces to save the poverty-stricken residents of Sharjah from a corrupt adviser who is diverting relief funds. It’s time to unearth the flaws no one wants to acknowledge for the sake of the future and their four-year-old son.

  Mailing List

  Thank you for purchasing ‘The Sheikh’s Secret Son’

  (The Sharjah Sheikhs Series Book Three)

  Get SIX full-length, highly-rated Leslie North Novellas FREE! Over 548 pages of best-selling romance with a combined 634 FIVE STAR REVIEWS!

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  1

  “Welcome to Sharjah!” Sheikh Zaid Al-Qasimi boomed as he stood, dressed in a traditional golden gown with white headpiece, his arms open as the members of the U.S. Diplomatic Tour entered the Reception Hall at the Sultan’s palace.

  He’d long ago chosen the gold to set himself apart from his older brother Khalid, who always wore plain white and Ahmed, his younger brother, who always wore tailored suits when meeting with foreign officials, as if to say he was one of them. Zaid was not one of them. He was proud of who he was and of the culture of his home.

  Zaid presented a warm smile to welcome his guests as they filed past members of the palace staff who held the ornate wooden doors open for the government officials and business investors. The Sultan had long ago divided the various aspects of representing Sharjah in the best possible light. He’d assigned Zaid to overseeing and guiding government and business investors on their ventures through the Emirate of Sharjah with the hope that they will choose to invest in Sharjah’s growth.

  As the diplomatic envoy made their way into the room to stand in front of him, Sheikh Zaid delighted in seeing their eyes fill with awe as they took in the centuries old palace with its original gilded walls and columns. Given how young their country is, most Americans have no idea what it’s like to live amongst such history, as they gazed upon the priceless ancient art and sculptures lining the walls, all pieces from the Sultan’s private collection.

  As the doors leading into the hall were closed, a lone member of the group lingered near the entrance, with her back to the room. Something about the short woman with wavy auburn hair seemed familiar, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Trying to ignore the woman who wasn’t paying attention, he continued his welcoming speech. “I am Sheikh Zaid Al-Qasimi, middle son of the Sultan bin Mohammed Al-Qasimi, and I welcome you to Sharjah. For those of you who haven’t been here before, I hope that you will have time to avail yourself of the many things we have to offer from our museums and parks to our restaurants and markets. There is something here for everyone. The gentleman next to me is Alacabak Noozu, Chief Advisor to the Sultan.” Zaid gestured to the man who stood next to him in a white gown and headpiece with a tan robe draped over his shoulders. Alacabak stood a little shorter than Zaid, but he was still a broad and imposing figure with severe eyes and dark features. He wore his experience and political status well, commanding respect from those around him. “Together, we will see to your needs during your stay here in Sharjah.”

  “The Sultan will be down to join us momentarily,” Zaid continued, still distracted by the woman now talking quietly on her cell phone. “If you have any questions during your visit or if there is anything you need, let one of us know. You are our guests, even if you are not staying at the palace.”

  He lost focus on his welcome speech, nearly forgetting what came next, and jerked his gaze away from the woman in the back, forcing himself to look at the group of government officials and investors in front of him.

  “Over the last several years, we have made tremendous progress here in Sharjah, as I’m sure you are all well aware, making great strides towards eliminating poverty and promoting growth in the private sector. We have done this by bringing major companies into the region to provide our citizens with better jobs and more opportunities for growth. We welcome you here today in an effort to continue that progress,” he continued, struggling to keep his train of thought as his eyes drifted back to the woman on the phone.

  “Maybe the Sultan’s Chief Advisor would like to add something,” he suggested to Alacabak, hoping he would take over before he completely lost his train of thought.

  Thankfully, Alacabak nodded his head in agreement, as he stepped forward. “Thank you, Sheikh Zaid. I want to thank you all for visiting Sharjah. We welcome new business opportunities and investments in our growing economy. You find us at a crossroads where the past is connecting with the future in the Emirate of Sharjah. In all of the United Arab Emirates, really. We take the task of blending our traditions with the modern world seriously; something that will be evident as you move about our fair city.”

  The woman in the back turned around, and Zaid finally caught a glimpse of her exquisite face. It was her! Despite the glorious time they’d spent together, the way they’d left things when they parted, he’d thought he would never see her again but there she w
as. Rebecca Reid. He knew he shouldn’t be surprised to see her amongst the group given her area of expertise, but suddenly seeing her took his breath away and he wondered if she would be equally affected to see him. Trying to catch a glimpse of her left hand, he couldn’t tell if she wore a ring and he itched to stride across the room for a better look.

  Catching a quick shot of those sky blue eyes took him back to the last time he’d seen her. He remembered the heat in those eyes as she’d looked into his and the way they’d made him feel, somehow ravenous, as if only she could quench his hunger, and yet protective all at once. The last time he’d seen those eyes, the two of them stood face to face on the balcony behind her hotel room. It had been a magical night, and it ended under the stars.

  But their commitments to their respective positions had pulled them apart then, and he figured it might have been for the best. He couldn’t tell if she had seen him yet, so he continued to watch her covertly. If anything, these years were good to her. She was more beautiful than he remembered. She’d always worn her hair in a tight bob, which suited her but he was pleased to see that it was longer now allowing her natural waves to frame her face.

  “…and I think that Sheikh Zaid will agree when I say that there is still much work to be accomplished to get us where we want to be,” Alacabak concluded his speech, bringing Zaid’s attention back to the front of the room.

  “Yes,” he agreed without hesitation. “There is still much work to be done.” He didn’t know where to go in his speech from there, too busy watching the auburn-haired beauty in the back of the room. It was as if she’d stepped directly out of his memory with her knee-length gray skirt hugging the subtle curves of her petite frame, her gray jacket clinging tightly to her shoulders and breasts, her silky hair, those thin hands that had held his face to hers, and those blue eyes that had pulled him out of himself before. He forgot himself every time he saw her.

  “I took the liberty of creating an itinerary that each of you should have received at the hotel when you arrived,” Zaid continued. “It illustrates for you the different parts of the region where we will be visiting. We want to show you the best that Sharjah has to offer and what your investments will be supporting. We tried to include a fair mixture of traditional sights and modern features. We can start your tour of the region today, after we take a brief break to get everyone situated and organized.”

  Zaid had worked closely with Alacabak and the tourism advisors to create an itinerary filled with trips to the museum, the desert park and reserve, the finest restaurants, the new conference center, and a few sightseeing tours designed to show off the wealth and modern development prevalent in Sharjah. He figured he would show them everything he wanted them to know about Sharjah, things he couldn’t put into words in order to persuade the investors and government officials to put more money into business development in the Emirate.

  While he spoke, he looked for Rebecca again. She was gone, swallowed by the group.

  “I’d like to close by saying again that we’re glad you could visit the region and see what opportunities we have to offer your businesses and other investments in our economy,” he concluded. “Now, if you’d like, we have refreshments on the table behind me. Don’t fill up on the finger foods, though,” he said with a laugh. “We will be attending lunch after a brief meet-and-greet session with the Sultan and other government officials who are now arriving.”

  Zaid stepped aside from the tables of food as servers appeared with trays of non-alcoholic drinks. As the guests were distracted by the refreshments, he began to make his way through the group, looking for the beautiful American woman who had threatened to steal his heart all those years ago for just a few nights of passion.

  He hadn’t given her much thought in the five years since, allowing the memory of her to fade into the busy political scenery. Ironically, it seemed she’d done that here in the palace. He couldn’t find her anywhere.

  He heard Alacabak explaining some of the places they would be visiting to the guests behind him while he searched for Rebecca.

  Sheikh Zaid’s heart pounded in his chest while he looked for Rebecca. There weren’t very many people in the room, no more than a dozen members of the diplomatic tour with a few staff members serving drinks and food. Perhaps he hadn’t actually seen her. Maybe he’d mistaken another guest for her in a fit of wishful thinking. He looked around to see if he could find the mistaken guest, but no one fit the description of the little American woman who was a foot shorter than he was without her heels on.

  In the meantime, his father the Sultan had finally joined the meeting. He sat in his large throne-like chair on the dais at the far end of the room. Khalid stood next to their father, both of them in their traditional gowns and headpieces, but the Sultan with his black robe with gold trim over his shoulders.

  Suddenly, there she was, walking toward the Sultan in her tight skirt, her thin legs tapering down to her heels. The perfect curve of her ass lured his eyes in as she moved. Her auburn hair showed off just enough of the porcelain white skin of her neck to remind him of what the rest of her looked like beneath those clothes.

  It had been a long time since he’d seen her body, but he could still see her alabaster skin clearly in his mind’s eye, the way it contrasted with dark, reddish skin of his hands as he ran his fingers down her back or across her stomach. He remembered burying his hands in her hair and holding her to him as they kissed the first time.

  So many emotions ran through him that by the time he caught up to her in front of his father’s chair, he wasn’t sure what he was going to say to her. He couldn’t reveal too much to his traditional father beyond the fact that they had worked closely together during one of his previous visits to the United States. He certainly couldn’t bring up the past.

  2

  “I love you. Goodnight and sweet dreams, kiddo.”

  “I love you, too, Mommy.”

  Rebecca had almost expected her son to hand the phone over to her sister, Amy, who was watching him while she was out of the country, but he went ahead and disconnected the call on his own. He could be so grown up sometimes! And at those times, it didn’t make being away from him any easier. She stuffed her cell phone into the inner pocket of her jacket.

  While the rest of the group listened to the two representatives of the Sultan, she noticed that the Sultan himself had entered the room and was sitting in a large throne-like chair on a dais at the other end of the room. Instead of hanging around and listening to what the Sultan’s tour guides had to say, she decided to go directly to the Sultan himself to see if the tour would include important sites instead of the tourist attractions that would surely gloss over the injustices committed daily in the Emirate. The Sultan had a reputation abroad of not making as many concessions for foreigners as some of his neighbors did. She knew it was possible he wouldn’t be forgiving of her forward behavior and attitude, but she still had a job to do while she was there.She made her way around the others in the group, and past the tables of finger foods and the wait staff serving tea and coffee. She walked up to the Sultan and introduced herself.

  “Sultan bin Mohammed Al-Qasimi?” she asked giving him her best smile before nodding to the man standing next to him who gave her a friendly smile in return.

  The Sultan looked her up and down with a less than flattering expression on his face.

  “My name is Rebecca Reid. I’m the envoy to the diplomatic party visiting your Emirate. I want to thank you for allowing us to visit,” she continued.

  “We are glad to have you,” the Sultan said with a sturdy, unaffected voice. She expected him to hold up his hand and tell her to kiss a ring. “We look forward to discussing further investments in the growth of Sharjah with you,” he continued. “And I hope you find your accommodations fitting.”

  The party had been put up in one of the nicest hotels in Sharjah, as requested by the head representative of the party, a feisty woman named Candace. So far, they’d been treated like royalty.<
br />
  “Yes, sir,” Rebecca answered the Sultan. “We’ve been treated very well. Thank you.”

  “Good,” he said, obviously very pleased with himself. “I’m glad to hear it.”

  “Yes, sir, but there is something I wanted to ask you about the tour,” Rebecca continued.

  “Yes. How may I be of service?” She was surprised by the genuine sound of concern in his voice.

  “I was reviewing the itinerary we were given, and I noticed Rajak and Timina were missing. We’re visiting just about every other part of Sharjah, but those two sections are left off. They’re also two of the poorest sections of the Emirate. I was wondering if we could visit them as well.”

  “That part of town does not offer anything for the investors, which is why it was not included.” She expected him to be angry, but his tone conveyed puzzlement as to why she would bring them up.

  “I think visiting those sections of Sharjah would give us the opportunity to address any labor concerns the investors may have,” she assured him, hoping he would agree.

  The Sultan chuckled humorlessly. “Yes, if anything, it will show them that there is still plenty of room for economic growth. But, if you’d like to talk about visiting those areas, you should probably talk to my son who is supervising the tour.”

  And there it was, she thought. There was the avoidance she had expected. He was passing it off blatantly. It was no surprise. In his grand palace, poverty wasn’t a problem.

  “Ah, here he comes now,” the Sultan announced.

  Rebecca stepped to the side as one of the gentlemen who’d been talking with the tour group walked up beside her.