The Sheikh’s Island Fling_Sheikh's Meddling Sisters_Book Two Page 10

  Rehaj was so busy, she didn’t expect to see him beforehand, but she hoped he’d like her new look. Cala’s hair dresser at the salon had given Ani a trim and styled her hair back into a sleek chignon at the nape of her neck and it highlighted her slender throat. In her earlobes gleamed a set of diamond studs Gwen had given her last year for her birthday.

  Ani sat in a chair in her room and picked up her laptop. She’d not checked her messages yet and was expecting an email from Gwen about picking her up at the airport early the next morning when Ani’s flight arrived back in Dallas.

  She glanced at the opulent palace surrounding her and swallowed around the lump forming in her throat. Hard to believe just a month ago she’d been heartbroken, stuck in the past with a bad breakup she’d wanted to forget. She’d balked at Gwen buying her that trip to Recover Love Rehab, but damn if it hadn’t worked out after all. She’d met someone new, fallen in love. And even if Rehaj would never love her back, it had still all been worth it. She would never forget him. She would never stop loving him. Every breath she took in the palace seemed to carry his scent, and she imagined she saw his gorgeous, smiling face around every corner.

  Browser open, Ani brought up her inbox and sorted through assorted junk mail until she found Gwen’s response. Instead of the quick note that she’d be there to pick Ani up on time, there was a longer message, questioning whether leaving Djeva and Rehaj behind was really the right thing.

  Flummoxed, Ani shut down her laptop and picked up her phone instead, hitting the button for her sister’s number on the speed dial.

  Gwen picked up on the second ring. “I wondered how long it would take you to call.”

  “Seriously? After that message?” Ani snorted. “You think I should stay? You haven’t even met this guy.”

  “No. But I’ve seen the footage. It’s all over the Internet.” Gwen sighed. “Ani, I know how hard that whole mess with Marcus was on you and I just want you to be happy again. I want you to find someone again. Someone to love. That’s why I sent you on that trip to begin with. I don’t know this Rehaj Nazrani, that’s true. But it’s plain as day how happy you are with him, in that footage. You’re glowing, Sis. I haven’t seen you like that since before…” she sighed. “Well, for a long time. All I can say is, if this guy makes you feel that way, then that’s something worth exploring.”

  Ani closed her eyes and let her head fall back. “He’s really wonderful. I think you’d like him a lot. Mom and Dad too, if they ever get a chance to meet him.”

  “Do you love him?” Gwen asked, never one to beat around the bush.

  “No.” Yes. “Maybe.”

  “Then stay there, with him, until you both figure this out.”

  “But he hasn’t asked me.” Ani shook her head. “I’ve barely even seen him this week. He’s got this big press conference coming up right before I head to the airport and I don’t want to end up in another situation where I’m with a guy who’s not as into the relationship as I am. Been there, done that. Not going back.”

  “Marcus was an ass,” Gwen said. “And selfish, and manipulative. He never deserved you. You told me once you felt less than when you were with him. Is that how you feel when you’re around Rehaj?”

  Just the opposite, in fact. Ani felt more like herself when she was with him than she ever had alone. And if that wasn’t an answer to all her questions, she didn’t know what was. “No. You’re right. I need to at least confront him about how I feel. Tell him the truth, then let him decide.” She straightened. “I’m going to do it. After the press conference. I’ll call you later and let you know if you need to pick me up tomorrow or not. Okay, sis?”

  “Okay,” Gwen said, her smile evident in her tone. “And good luck.”

  * * *

  Rehaj was a man torn. He wanted to see Ani every second of every day, so badly it hurt. He wanted to get down on one knee and profess his undying love to her and ask her to stay with him, if only for a little while longer. He wanted to explore this amazing connection between them, to see if there was a solid future there, to see if she might come to care for him as much as he cared for her.

  It was crazy. It was insane. It was all he could think about.

  But he also did not want to stand in her way. She had a whole life in America he knew precious little about and he wouldn’t, couldn’t ask her to leave all that behind because of some reckless passion between them. He’d acted recklessly once before, and it had cost him everything. Dare he risk it all now for the sake of love?

  He was so restless with indecision that he’d finally corralled himself in the family’s private conference room at the palace to gather his thoughts and get his head back on straight before the press conference. There was less than an hour now until he was due before the cameras and already his heart was racing. Feraz had commanded him to give a final answer about his relationship with Ani, amongst the other topics to be discussed, and Rehaj did not want to let his brother down. He needed to make a choice.

  Sounds of preparations for the press conference filtered in from down the hall. They were setting it up in the palace’s grand foyer, amidst all his family’s treasures and triumphs. Press and local dignitaries were already filing in to see the speech, but Rehaj’s couldn’t seem to regain his composure. This was supposed to be his redemption, his moment to tell the world that there was nothing between him and Ani and that all the rumors were false. His moment to show everyone that he would be fine without the cabinet position he’d worked so hard and so long for. His moment to finally lay down his burden of guilt over Ayesha’s death. If losing the head advisor job and setting the woman he loved free wasn’t penance enough, he didn’t know what was. Back when he’d been seventeen, he’d been selfish, thinking only of himself. That reckless abandon was what had gotten Ayesha killed. Now, he would put Ani first.

  His sisters had informed him that she would be at his press conference and he looked forward to seeing her there. They’d not really seen each other at all that week, and he’d heard through the family grapevine that Ani had undergone a bit of a makeover. She’d always been beautiful to him and always would be, but if changing her appearance made her happy, he would support it.

  Rehaj gave a rueful chuckle. When his younger brother Raheem had fallen in love the year before, Rehaj had poked fun at him, thinking him weak for giving in to his lover. But now, Rehaj saw the strength in love, had experienced Ani’s support firsthand, and would take that feeling with him into the press conference now. It was time to stop running, stop hiding, and start facing life head on.

  It was time to tell Ani how he really felt.

  All their moments together on the island played through his head—the first time he’d met her on the docks, the time they’d spent talking on their balconies, the dinner they’d shared on the beach. Making love to her had been a true religious experience—those little moans of hers, the way she tasted, her tropical floral perfume tickling his nose.

  How could he ever let her go?

  But he would, if that’s what she wanted.

  He pushed to his feet, a sense of purpose weighing heavy in his gut. He would give his speech, appease Feraz, show the cabinet what they’d be missing with him as leader by insisting on their ludicrous “transparency” stipulation. All the while, he’d only have eyes for his Ani.

  She was the reason he was at this point now. Her help, her encouragement, her support.

  He’d never forget her. He could never repay her. He’d love her forever.

  After straightening his suit jacket and checking his appearance in the full-length mirror, Rehaj walked out of the conference room and through the halls until he reached the press conference. The foyer was packed with people and the lights were hot on his skin. As he took his place behind the podium, he searched the crowds and found Ani, stunning in a brilliant purple dress, near the back of the room. She looked regal as a queen.

  My queen.

  Thankfully, he’d memorized his speech and his movements�
��all with Ani’s help—so he got through most of it on auto-pilot. Good thing too, because all of his senses were attuned to the woman at the back of the room, her gaze tingling on his skin along with the bright lights.

  As the press conference neared the end, he cleared his throat and inhaled deep. “One last thing, if you all will permit me. I must tell you that I was not entirely honest before. About my relationship with Miss Anastasia Brightbridge.” He glanced over to the side to see his family gathered, Feraz looking wary at best. “You see, while it’s true that there is nothing going on between us at present, that is not the way I wish for things to be. I must confess that during our time on the island, I fell deeply in love with Miss Brightbridge. She, of course, is under no obligation to return those feelings at all, and thus I have not pressed the issue with her. But since she is scheduled to leave Djeva tonight, I felt it only right that she should know what’s in my heart before she heads home to Texas. Thank you.”

  A flurry of flashbulbs and reporters shouting questions at him had Rehaj temporarily lost in the chaos. Next thing he knew, Feraz was beside him at the podium, pulling him aside.

  “What the hell are you doing?” he hissed in Rehaj’s ear. “You were supposed to make things better by giving this speech. Not start a new round of rumors flying.”

  “What if she returns your feeling, Sheikh?” a voice said from somewhere in the melee.

  Rehaj and Feraz both stopped and peered out into the crowd. It couldn’t be. Breath lodged in his throat, Rehaj leaned forward to squint through the bright lights and speak into the mic. “I’m sorry?”

  Ani stepped forward to the edge of the dais where the podium rested, her beautiful smile only for Rehaj. “I said, what if I return your feelings.”

  Stunned, Rehaj went down on one knee, for once not caring who saw or what the media did about it. All he cared about was Ani, here, with him and professing her love. “Then you would make me the happiest man on earth.”

  “Well, then.” Ani knelt before him, cupping his cheeks in her hands. “Consider yourself happy, baby. Because I love you, Sheikh Rehaj Nazrani, with all my heart.”

  He kissed her deeply then, conveying with his actions what he felt in his heart. “And I love you, mahbubi. With all my soul. Will you stay with me until we figure this whole mess out?”

  “I’ll stay as long as you want me,” Ani said, laughing through her tears of joy, kissing him again.

  “Then you’ll be here forever, my love.” Rehaj rested his forehead against hers as the media went nuts around them. “For I will love you an eternity, mahbubi.”

  End of The Sheikh's Island Fling

  Sheikh's Meddling Sisters: Book 2

  The Sheikh’s Tempting Assistant, June 21, 2018

  The Sheikh’s Island Fling, June 28, 2018

  The Sheikh’s Pregnant Fake Wife, July 5, 2018

  PS: Do you love handsome Sheikhs? Then keep reading for exclusive extracts from The Sheikh’s Pregnant Fake Wife and The Sheikh’s Pretend Fiancée.

  Thank You

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  About Leslie

  Leslie North is the USA Today Bestselling pen name for a critically-acclaimed author of women's contemporary romance and fiction. The anonymity gives her the perfect opportunity to paint with her full artistic palette, especially in the romance and erotic fantasy genres.

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  BLURB

  Isabella Germain is stuck between a rock and a hard place. She’d agreed to act as her identical twin sister’s surrogate for an IVF procedure because she needed the money to save their mother. No one was ever supposed to know, least of all her sister’s husband—Sheikh Feraz bin Haik al Nazrani. But when her sister Roxanne is killed in a car accident while jet-setting with some playboy in Europe, Isabella must choose whether to stay silent about her true identity, making her pretend marriage to Feraz real in every sense of the word, or risk losing her baby through a swift rejection and the vicious custody battle that’s sure to follow.

  When Feraz sees his unborn child on ultrasound for the first time, he’s smitten, even if his relationship with his estranged wife is less than ideal. Still, she’s grieving the loss of her beloved twin Isabella, so he gives her the benefit of the doubt. But Roxanne must return home with him to his country of Djeva and raise their children together as a true family. As Feraz and his wife spend more time together he realizes that she’s a different woman from the person he married—warm, kind, generous to a fault. He’s falling in love all over again, until an earth-shattering realization threatens to destroy it all.

  Grab your copy of The Sheikh’s Pregnant Fake Wife

  Available July 5, 2018

  www.LeslieNorthBooks.com

  * * *

  EXCERPT

  The things I do for love.

  Sheikh Feraz bin Haik al Nazrani sat in the backseat of the limo as it weaved through the rain-soaked Manhattan streets on a blustery early October day. Okay. So, perhaps the reason he was here today was not exactly love. More like family obligation, but still.

  He’d received word from his estranged wife the day before that she was pregnant at last. Feraz should have been overjoyed at the news. They’d been trying since the day they’d gotten married two years prior with no success. But all he felt today was sadness.

  The first time he’d met Roxanne Germain had been on the beach of a luxury resort in his home country, the small island nation of Djeva. It was an up-and-coming sheikdom in the Middle East, thanks in large part to the efforts of Feraz and his two brothers after their father’s death. Feraz had been thirty at the time and new to his position as leader of his nation. He’d been eager to make a good impression on his people and raise his country’s standing in the world. But the second he’d seen Roxanne in that tiny bikini of hers—all long, tanned legs and wicked smile—he’d forgotten about everything but getting her into his bed.

  She’d come more than willingly, dazzling him with her wit and charm and gorgeous green eyes. He’d been infatuated with her American chutzpah, as she’d called it, and her independent spirt. It wasn’t until it was too late, and they’d said their wedding vows, that Feraz has learned just how much his lustful folly would cost him.

  The limo pulled up to the curb outside of a glass and steel skyscraper and the driver came around to open Feraz’s door for him. He thanked the man and headed under the black awning and up to the door of the medical offices where a doorman bowed and let him inside.

  Nothing but the best for Roxanne—from clothes to hospitals to husbands.

  He rode the elevator up to the fifth floor, oddly stoic considering he was about to see an ultrasound of his child for the first time, but he couldn’t seem to muster the necessary enthusiasm. After all, it wasn’t like he and Roxanne had created the child together in the traditional sense. There’d been no making love, no love of any kind involved between them really at this point. With Roxanne choosing to live here in the United States, half a world away from her husband, any kind of relationship was difficult.

  At first, Feraz had been hopeful that in time wild and reckless Roxanne would adjust to life in his country. That she would come to love its deserts and mountainous regions and beaches as much as he did. But it soon became apparent that it wasn’t to be. She grew more and more withdrawn, complaining about everything to the point that they argued constantly, and everyone was miserable—including Feraz’s family. Roxanne wanted to leave. He wanted peace and quiet.

  Still, he had ob
ligations as the ruler of his country and needed a wife.

  They’d come to a compromise.

  Roxanne would live alone, abroad, only returning to Djeva for the occasional state function or other required duties. Feraz would stay in his beloved Djeva and work alongside his brothers to raise their country to its rightful spot at the top of the economic charts in the region by capitalizing on the country’s beauty and natural resources.

  They’d live apart, each free to do as they liked, within reason, and be happy ever after.

  Or not.

  The elevator dinged and Feraz stepped out into a plush lobby decorated in soothing gray tones. He smoothed a hand down the front of his crisp, handmade Italian suit and stepped up to the reception desk, flashing his most charming smile. “Feraz Nazrani. I’m here to see my wife, please.”

  “Oh.” The older woman behind the desk blushed furiously and scrambled from her chair, giving him something halfway between a bow and a curtsy. “Of course, Sheikh Nazrani.” She came around the desk to lead him to another door across the lobby. “Right this way, sir.”

  Feraz bit back a chuckle. It still cracked him up how many Americans became flustered in his presence. In truth, he was very much like them, with a few more billions in the bank, perhaps. He’d gone to school here in the States, graduating Summa Cum Laude from Harvard Business School. He loved the vibrant culture, the diversity, the thriving arts scene and shopping. If he could no longer live in Djeva, he would choose to live here in the United States.