The Sheikh's Furious Prisoner

  The Sheikh’s Furious Prisoner

  The Quabeca Sheikhs Series

  Book 1

  By Leslie North

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  Dedications

  I dedicate this book to you, my loyal readers. Thank you for all the lovely e-mails, reviews, and support. Without you, this wouldn't be possible.

  Contents

  The Sheik’s Furious Prisoner

  Dedications

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 1

  Hot air filled Saja’s nostrils as she stepped off the plane. She didn’t want to be here. Her father had summoned her to Basrat, a country she had never been to or had any intention of visiting. She didn't belong here nor did she want to see her so-called father. Yet, here she was.

  A man of average height dressed in traditional Arabic clothing welcomed Saja at the airport with a forced smile. He introduced himself as Syed; her father's assistant. Before she could reply Syed had gathered up her luggage and escorted her to the car. Saja climbed into the back seat and sat there quietly. Dozens of questions scrolled through her head but she didn't bother to ask them. She figured she'd save them for her father. After all, they were for him.

  As they drove Saja found herself admiring the surrounding buildings and infrastructure. She had expected dusty roads and small houses, but it seems wealth and luxury were common in Basrat. The car pulled into the driveway of a large, white walled house. It was by far the most impressive one she had seen since her plane landed.

  Saja got out of the car and followed Syed into the house. It was a huge property and there were many guards spread around. They walked into the house and made their way to the Sheik's office. He was obviously expecting her.

  “Saja, habibty,” Sheik El-Tamar said, as he got up from his desk to greet Saja. She didn't speak much Arabic but she understood what habibty meant. She almost laughed when she heard it. This man was calling her “my love.”

  “Hello,” Saja replied coldly. The Sheik kissed her on each cheek.

  “Come, sit with me,” he said, as he led her to the sofa. “How was your flight?”

  “Why am I here?” Saja did not want to beat around the bush. She knew he had a motive for demanding that she come.

  “Aren't you pleased to see your father?”

  “No,” Saja replied. “Why should I be happy to see a man who shipped my mother off to London and did not want anything to do with her pregnancy,” she added. The Sheik sighed before he replied.

  “It was not like that.”

  “Why am I here?”

  “I think you are old enough now.”

  “For what?”

  “Marriage.”

  “What?” Saja raised her voice, as she stood up from the sofa. This man must clearly be deluded if he thought that he could simply whisk her away from her life and marry her off. He had no right.

  “Calm down, Saja.”

  “No! You have no right to interfere with my life,” she said and stormed out of the room. The guard’s panicked looks told her shouting at the Sheik was not a usual occurrence. But she was not going to sit there with him to discuss marriage. It was never going to happen.

  Outside the Sheik’s office Syed was waiting. “Where am I staying?” she asked him.

  “This young lady will show you,” Syed said and presented her with a maid who bowed her head to Saja and led her to her quarters.

  As soon as Saja got to her room, she called her mother. “Mum,” Saja voiced out as soon as her mother answered the phone.

  “What's wrong?” her mother asked. She could tell something wasn't right.

  “He wants to marry me off! That's why he called me here. Can you believe that?”

  “That bastard!” She knew what the Sheik was like but she didn’t imagine that he'd go this far. He always had ulterior motives for everything he did. She suspected that this marriage would also benefit him somehow. “I will call you back, honey,” she added and cut the phone. She immediately called the Sheik's office.

  ***

  The Sheikh sighed when he saw the caller ID. “What do you want Pamela?” Sheikh El-Tamar asked Saja's mother.

  “How dare you try to marry my daughter off? What's your motive?” Pamela demanded.

  “How dare I? She is my daughter. I have every right to see that she is married.”

  “You have never cared for her nor have you ever provided her with any support. You might be biologically related, but she is not your daughter. You wouldn't accept her, that's why you sent me away.”

  “She is my daughter and she WILL get married.” The Sheik hung up the phone, fuming. Saja had been the result of an affair with a black woman. His wife wouldn't accept an illegitimate child, let alone one of mixed-race, and ordered that she be sent away before anyone found out about his transgression.

  Now that the Sheik was on the verge of losing everything, Saja was his last hope. He wanted to arrange a political marriage between her and Prince Basil Al-Qadir. Basil was the youngest son and third in line to the throne. He had moved out of the palace at the age of eighteen and started a different life for himself. One of the first things he had done was create a peace treaty with Sheik El-Tamar and several other sheiks in the region. He controlled the south of Basrat and it was in Sheik El-Tamar's best interest to be on good terms with him.

  Sheik El-Tamar had spoken with Prince Al-Qadir about the marriage. He was expecting Saja to arrive at his palace in a few days. This was the only use El-Tamar had for Saja and he hoped that it would work. Otherwise, he would lose everything. She was the only daughter he had. From his marriage, he had fathered three boys, none of which could be married off for an alliance.

  Saja did not join her father for dinner. Despite the Sheik sending a maid to ask Saja to join him and the rest of the family for dinner she had refused. She was still very angry with him. And, since she had never formally met his family, Saja wasn’t prepared to sit through an awkward meal with people she had never met before.

  “Who is this Saja?” Akeem, her half-brother asked their father. All her brothers were married but they had come home for that weekend.

  “She is your father's bastard,” Sheik El-Tamar's wife replied. Her response was followed by an awkward silence.

  “What do you plan to do with her?” Aman, the eldest son finally asked.

  “Marry her off to Prince Al-Qadir,” Sheik El-Tamar replied.

  “Will he even accept her?” his wife asked.

  “We can only try.”

  ***

  The next morning, the Sheik went to Saja's room, gently knocking on the door. After hearing a grunt from inside, he walked in, she did not get up to greet him and only met him with a cold stare. Despite being his daughter he didn’t know the slightest thing about her. Her favourite color, what music she liked, they were all a mystery to him. There were times he regretted his decision to send them away, but too much time had passed now. He sat down opposite her. For a moment he did not speak, he simply looked at her. She looked so much like her mother.

  “Did you sleep well?” he asked her.

  “Do you care?” Saja replied without even looking at him.

&
nbsp; “I understand that you dislike me but the least you can do is show me some respect,” he demanded. She turned her head and faced him. She could not believe what she was hearing.

  “And why should I show you respect? Who are you to me?”

  “You have your mother's temper.”

  “You did not raise me nor were you a father to me. You didn't want me, so why would you concern yourself with my life now? What do you hope to gain out of this marriage?”

  “At least I can see you marry into a good family.”

  “I do not need your help in that area.” She didn't know him but she was not buying his answer.

  “Think what you may, but this is good for you.” With that, the Sheik stood up and headed for the door.

  “I don't need you to decide what is good for me. I'd appreciate it if you stayed out of my life,” she shouted after him. He did not respond to her. Saja wanted to return to her life. Coming here was a mistake. After much discussion, her mother had talked her into coming to visit to hear him out, as she had always wanted her daughter to have a relationship with her father. Saja couldn’t understand why speaking with her father required that she get on a plane. He could have simply spoken to her on the phone.

  An unfamiliar dark haired man walked into her room. He wore traditional Eastern clothes. For a moment he didn't speak. He studied Saja.

  “May I help you?” Saja asked him. She didn't appreciate the way he was looking at her.

  “So, you are Saja” the man said.

  “Who wants to know?”

  “Aman,” the man replied. Saja still looked puzzled. “The Sheik's eldest son,” he added.

  “Ahh. So that would make you my half-brother,” Saja replied.

  There was an awkward moment of silence. Neither one of them knew what to say to the other. Saja was still wondering why he had come to see her in the first place. She wanted to ask but that would be too rude.

  “Will you accept the marriage?” Aman asked. Saja's eyes widened. That was his reason for coming to her.

  “Am I meant to?”

  “This marriage will be good for you and the family.”

  “A marriage of convenience. I thought as much.” Saja placed her hands on her hips.

  “After bringing shame on this family, this is the least you could to restore our honour.”

  Saja crossed her arms across her chest. How had she brought shame on the family? His words angered her. He was his father's son.

  “Did I ask to be born?”

  “Nevertheless you still were.”

  “You have no right to speak to me in such a manner. I did nothing wrong to you. Take it up with your father. He was the unfaithful one,” Saja was trying to stay calm but she was failing. The Sheik had already angered her and now Aman was adding fuel to the fire.

  “Anyway, if you wish to leave, the car is outside waiting for you.”

  “I will do that indeed.”

  Saja stormed off to collect her belongings. She dragged her suitcase out of her quarters and left the house. She did not want to be there and she quickly learned that they did not want her to be there either. The driver was outside waiting for her. He took the suitcase from her and put it in the trunk. She got into the car and folded her arms over her chest.

  Chapter 2

  Saja arrived at the airport and was escorted to a private jet. She was confused as to why she was returning in a private jet. They probably want me gone as soon as possible, she thought to herself. She boarded the plane, sat down and took in her surroundings. She had never been in a private jet before. It was posh, mainly warm woods combined with a metallic trim. Once the plane took off, the flight attendant offered her some refreshments.

  Surprisingly, the plane landed about thirty minutes later. Saja assumed it was for a petrol refill, but the flight attendant informed her that they had reached their destination. Another flight perhaps? She got up and walked out. There was a driver waiting for her with a black Bentley. He bowed and opened the door for her.

  “Where are we?” Saja asked.

  “We are in Quabeca, Miss,” the driver replied as he started the car.

  Saja was confused. She didn't know much about the country, and for a good reason. She never wanted to learn about it because it was her father's origin. It made her hate the country even more. She didn't even know where Quabeca was.

  “Okay, why Quabeca? What's in Quabeca?” she asked.

  “I am taking you to Prince Al-Qadir's palace.”

  “Who?” Saja mumbled. She had no idea who that was and why she was going there. Did he have a private airfield there?

  “We will arrive in a moments, Miss,” the driver replied. He hadn't heard her mumble.

  Saja sat quietly in the back. She kept thinking about where she was going. Suddenly it came to her as they drove through large gates. This must be the man she was to marry. She couldn't even think much about it, as she was distracted by the compound they entered. They had reached the property much sooner than she expected. It hadn't even been five minutes. They parked outside the main entrance. The driver got out of the car and opened the door for Saja. She got out of the car slowly and turned around in a circle as she took it all in. The house was massive. She had never seen one like it. The stone driveway was more than two hundred metres long. There was a fountain in the middle. The landscaping was luxurious. What was it the driver said? She was going to a palace?

  “Shall we go in?” a maid asked Saja.

  “Yeah, sure,” Saja said jumping out of her thoughts.

  The entryway was in the shape of a turret with a vaulted ceiling and windows that cast sparkling light down upon the floor. As she followed the maid down the long hallway, she marvelled at the intricately designed scrollwork along the crown mouldings. The corridors were wide. There were dozens of many maids and butlers and they all were so elegant. It was as if she stepped into a fairy tale. Saja was still confused as to why she was there or who this Al-Qadir guy was to her. She couldn't wait to meet him and tell him this was all a big mix up. Then she could get out of here.

  They finally reached their destination. Saja felt like she had been walking for miles. As far as she could tell, they were outside an office. She turned to the maid and asked her where they were.

  The maid just smiled and answered, “The Prince will see you now,”

  “Okay,” Saja replied and walked into the office. There was a man leaning on the desk, wearing a white shirt and black trousers, with his arms folded over his chest. He was very tall and muscular. He had jet-black hair cut short in back and along the sides. His eyebrows were dark; he had a straight nose and full lips. He wore a stern expression that seemed to go straight through Saja.

  “You must be Saja,” he said. His voice was low and dangerous.

  “I am, and you are?” Saja replied as she walked towards him. She extended her hand for a handshake.

  “You shouldn't easily give men your hand,” the man said. Saja narrowed her eyes. She had heard about how strict the Arabic culture was in regards to female behaviour. She quickly pulled back her hand.

  “You do not even know who I am,” he added.

  “My apologies, I have no idea who you are or why I am here,” Saja shrugged her shoulders.

  His brow furrowed, “your father did not tell you?”

  “Listen, that man isn't my father. He told me about a marriage but he never said with whom. Either way, it bears no significance because I am not interested in marriage.”

  “Is that so?” The man chuckled. If he wanted the marriage, there was not a thing she could do about it. What amused him the most was the she seemed to have no respect towards her father.

  “Are you the man I am being pawned off to?”

  “If you mean your betrothed, then yes.” The man called one of the maids into the room. “Please take Miss Saja to her quarters,” he instructed her.

  “No, it's fine, I won’t be staying. You can take me back to the airport,” Saja said. Even though
he was very attractive, it did not mean that she was going to agree to a marriage.

  “We will sort all of that later. For now rest,” came his smooth reply.

  Saja followed the maid out. This trip was turning into an absolute nightmare. She wished that she had followed her instincts. She had not wanted to go in the first place, but her mother convinced her to go, if only she hadn't. What was worse was that her father had said he would send someone to get her if she did not come on her own within a month and her mother was worried about any potential trouble.

  Her jaw dropped open as she walked into her quarters. They were much larger than her place back in London. Over there, she had a one-bedroom flat that was ridiculously expensive. If she sold only one piece of furniture from this place, it would cover months of her rent in London.