The Sheikh's Determined Lover Read online

  Why had she ever thought she could fix anything? Why had she thought she was smart enough to find the proof her dad needed? And why had she taken up the idea that she was a girl who would earn a happy ending? She was just a misfit who liked books and who belonged in a library where history was something that had already happened. And she knew from reading so much history that the end of most things generally came with tragedy.

  Arif watched the car taking Christine to the airport pull away from the palace and head out the gates. She was leaving, and if she could do such a thing, it meant she did not love him.

  He should have spoken his heart anyway. But he could not. He had his pride left to him—and two damn books to find.

  Turning away from the window, he headed back downstairs. He would draft Sahl's help. He would pull in everyone from the palace. He would find those books. He must before Tarek returned.

  In the main hallway, he saw Nasim headed toward him, something bulky under his arm, Aunt Bian with him. His aunt had her chin up and her mouth pulled down, and even Nasim looked unusually grim.

  Arif offered up a stiff smile. "Ah, just the man I need. The books from the treasury have gone missing."

  Nasim stopped and pulled back the brown towel that covered the items he carried, revealing glittering jewels and gold. "I heard. And they are found." Turning to Bian, Nasim gestured for her to step forward.

  She glanced at him, eyes narrowed and mouth pulling even deeper—she had never liked Nasim. She faced Arif.

  "I took them. For…safekeeping."

  Nasim shook his head. "You mean to drive away Arif's girlfriend."

  Arif looked from Nasim to Aunt Bian, his head spinning as if someone had just kicked him in the head. He knew the feeling for that was how he'd gotten the scar near his mouth, a kick during a rugby match.

  "What?" It was a stupid thing to say, but he could think of nothing else.

  Speaking slowly, Nasim repeated, "She took them to drive Christine away. Or perhaps even get her arrested for their theft. Now, if you really love that woman, you will not let her go. You will certainly not let her go thinking she lost these books somehow."

  Arif shook his head. "I cannot keep a woman who does not love me in return. However, she needs to know the books were found."

  Grinning, Nasim nodded. He pushed the towel-covered books into Arif's hands. "That's not all she needs to know. Now go. I've got your car waiting at the front."

  At the airport, Christine slumped into a seat by her gate and pulled out her cell phone. She'd booked her flight and had two hours to wait, so she called her father to let him know she was heading home.

  "About time you came back, but you didn't mention this earlier. Oh, I forgot to tell you I've started some new medication—seems to be helping. I've also been waiting for your latest notes. Weren't you going to email them?"

  Christine's throat tightened. "Yeah…about that. I lost the source material." The story came in disjointed, stumbling words with Christine sniffing back tears and tugging at the buttons on her shirt. When she ran out of breath, a long silence left her thinking the connection had flaked.

  But her dad's voice came back on the line, low and serious. "What's up, hon? You don't usually get this emotional about the research."

  "Didn't you hear? I lost the source material and my notes, and now Arif's going to take all the blame, and your theories are never going to get the credit they should, and—"

  "Whoa there. Why are you trying to walk my same path and make the same mistakes?"

  She sat upright. Wasn't that what the astrologer—and Arif—had said? A chill slid down her spine. "I'm not."

  "Hon, I get you’re upset, but you've got a memory that's better than most. Put your mind to it, and you can recreate your notes. And when you do, you publish under your name. You do the work, you get the credit. This isn't about me."

  She pressed a palm flat on her thigh. "But, Dad, I wanted to give you…you need…I mean, you should have…something to live for."

  "Why don't you make that a happy daughter, hon? And you need to figure out what is it you want out of this deal."

  She sat there, staring at the glass wall, the small planes sitting on the black tarmac, the bright lights, and the night sky over Zahkim.

  What did she want in her heart? The words burst out. "I want to be happy with Arif."

  "Well, good. Now who's this Arif guy?"

  The story tumbled out even more disjointed than the one about the lost books. Once she got it out, her dad asked, "You tell him any of this? About how you feel?"

  "No…no. And I should." Her pulse kicked up. "Knowledge doesn't do much good when it's kept back. Gotta go, Dad."

  "Go get 'em, Tiger."

  Ending the connection, she started back to the airport entrance. She'd take a taxi to the palace—could a taxi even get through the gates? Well, she'd call someone. Why had she never asked Arif for his cell phone number?

  At this late hour, the airport wasn't crowded. A janitor looked up from moping the floor as she rushed past. A security guard watched her hurry down the concourse. She started out the door only to bump into Arif as he was trying to come inside.

  He held out something wrapped in a brown cloth. "The books. Bian hid them, but Nasim discovered her trick. Take them for safekeeping for Zahkim. They are probably safer in your arms than anywhere else. I know I was…and I…" He stopped, pulled in a deep breath. "I love you, habibi. I don't want to say it. Even now, I feel as if I am tempting fate to take you from me, just as my parents were taken from me. But I've loved you from the moment I set eyes on you. You are my world—and I…ah, I've run out of words."

  She clutched the books to her chest, her eyes stinging, her heart thudding. "I…I…you can make their loan to me a wedding gift. To me. To us."

  "A what?" He stared at her.

  The janitor had moved closer, and Christine was aware of the guard watching them. She wet her lips. "Ask me to marry you. Again. For the last time."

  Arif's throat worked. She saw him gulp down a breath. Suddenly, she knew it mattered to him as it hadn't the first time he had asked. Fingers shaking, he took her right hand. The ring slipped off her finger as if it had never given her a problem. Arif slid it onto the third finger of her left hand. "Will you marry me, my maddening, sweet, troublesome, book-loving Christine? I fear it is the only way to keep these books in the kingdom, and for me to keep my head."

  Standing on tiptoe, she wrapped one arm around his neck and kept the other tight around the books. "Oh, I lost mine long ago. But it's going to have to be on that auspicious day, and after my dad helps me publish on this."

  Epilogue

  Christine swayed to the smooth jazz playing. Her father twirled her once and then caught her. She frowned at him. "Dad, remember what the doctor said."

  "Yeah, yeah, watch the exertion. But I am not missing the first dance at your wedding. Now tell me who is the old biddy glaring at us?" He swung her around so she could see Bian—now her Aunt Bian—sitting as far as she could from the reception in the garden, arms folded over her chest.

  "That is Aunt Bian, and she thinks I'm not good enough for Arif—or for a royal bride." The breath hitched in Christine's chest. "Am I crazy?"

  He kissed the tip of her nose. "Yep, that's how you know it's real love. I'm going to go over there to see if I can sweeten up the old sourpuss."

  "Da-ad?"

  "Come on, you know I was a hit with great-aunt Clemestra, and she didn't like anyone. Besides, your groom is headed this way, looking ready to behead me if I don't give you up." He twirled her again, then gave her hand to Arif.

  Christine shook her head and let Arif put his arm around her. Next to the food, Nasim was trying to pick up one of her bridesmaids. Tess and Tarek joined them on the dance floor, Tess giving her a grin and wink. Arif's beard tickled Christine's ear, and she turned back to him.

  "This dry climate is doing dad's respiratory problem a lot of good."

  "I do not wish to t
alk about your father."

  She tipped her head to one side. "Tarek and Tess look happy."

  "I do not wish to talk about them either."

  "My paper's kicked up a shitstorm back home—I've got a half-dozen defenders, and five times that many saying I'm following in my dad's footsteps with wild claims. And you know what? I don't care."

  Arif grinned. "Nadira is already trying to forecast a date for us to conceive a child."

  "Really, well, you can tell her we beat her to the punch."

  His grin dropped, and Christine suddenly wished she hadn't said anything. But then he gave a whoop, spun her off her feet and set her down again. "You're pregnant?"

  She glanced around. Only a few people watched them—most folks seemed too busy enjoying the food and the music. She leaned close and whispered, "That time in the pool."

  He swept her back into the dance but kept his touch light on her. "You realize that means we married just in time."

  Smiling up at him, she shook her head. "No, we fell in love just in time."

  "Ah, habibi—there is no falling. For me, my love for you is something that has always been and always will be. Now, shall we scandalize everyone except Nasim and run away from our own wedding?"

  She gave a laugh and nodded, and they slipped away into the desert night.

  End of The Sheikh's Determined Lover

  Zahkim Sheikhs Series Book Two

  The Sheikh's Captive American, March 29th 2018

  The Sheikh's Determined Lover, April 5th 2018

  The Sheikh's Unexpected Wife, April 12th 2018

  PS: Do you love passionate sheikhs? Then keep reading for exclusive extracts from The Sheikh's Unexpected Wife and The Sheikh's Forced Bride.

  Thank you!

  Thank you so much for purchasing my book. It’s hard for me to put into words how much I appreciate my readers. If you enjoyed this book, please remember to leave a review. Reviews are crucial for an author’s success and I would greatly appreciate it if you took the time to review the book. I love hearing from you!

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  BLURB

  Sheikh Nasim Said is going through with his arranged marriage—it will be good for business, and his country Zahkim, even if his cousin Arif says it will be a disaster. But when his veil-shrouded bride faints halfway through the ceremony, he discovers he hasn’t married the daughter of a neighboring king, but the luscious Ginni Leeland. His wife is a stranger, but he can’t wait to get to know her better –in every way—even if her stunt has threatened Zahkim’s relationship with their neighbor.

  Ginni is full of Southern charm, and she plans to put it to good use in Zahkim, proving to her daddy she’s ready to take over the family business by cementing a deal to transport Zahkim’s oil. Helping her friend elope by taking her place (temporarily!) in her wedding is the perfect ruse to get her close to Sheikh Nasim.

  But the marriage wasn’t supposed to be legally binding! Now she’s married to a sheikh, her daddy’s furious, and—worst of all—she’s falling in love with her new husband. Now Ginni has to prevent a war, seal the deal with Zahkim, and keep her heart from breaking—all in less than a week.

  Grab your copy of The Sheikh's Unexpected Wife

  Available April 12th 2018

  www.LeslieNorthBooks.com

  EXCERPT

  "This is not a good day for you to marry. It will be a disaster."

  Sheikh Nasim Said glanced at his cousin. "Arif, you may have had an astrologer pluck your wedding date from the stars, but I'd rather just get the ink on this deal. Where is the bloody girl?" He glanced around the palace gardens.

  As a member of the royal family of Zahkim, Nasim had to marry in the palace. He'd chosen the huge garden in the center since two of his cousins had already held their ceremonies here. Might as well keep up the tradition. In truth, he'd rather elope—or have a quick civil service. But Jasmine's father—Sheikh Ahmad Hadad of Dijobuli—wanted tradition upheld.

  Right ol' geezer, Nasim thought, glancing at the older man. He smiled, however, and gave Sheikh Ahmad a small bow. The sheikh stood in front of the other guests, his trimmed, white beard jutting out, a frown curving his wide mouth under his beak of a nose, and one tapping foot sticking out from his traditional white thobe. Nasim tugged on his tie.

  He'd forgone the traditional robes in place of a black suit—tailored for him by Gieves & Hawkes of Savile Row, of course—but he'd given in to Arif's insistence he must at least wear the white keffiyeh of the royal family. The bloody thing had sweat dripping down the back of his neck, but the heat also had something to do with that, and maybe he should have actually consulted a meteorologist for a wedding date. High humidity left him thinking it might rain later in the day, but at the moment it was simply hot, even in the shade of the garden.

  And where the bloody hell was Jasmine?

  Nasim tugged on this tie again.

  Almost two hundred VIPs from Zahkim and Dijobuli, shifted on their feet in the garden, seeming as impatient as Nasim, and their whispers were like the breeze that warned of an impending sandstorm. Garlands of flowers hung from the while marble pillars that bordered the garden. The fountain gurgled away like a drunk, and Nasim started wishing for a cool pint. He kept a stock of Bass ale and Mackeson cooling, a habit he'd picked up from his years at Oxford with Arif and Tarek—in his penthouse in the city. Would this bloody ceremony ever be done with?

  His mobile buzzed, and he pulled it from his trouser pocket.

  A wedding wasn't the place to answer a call, but Nasim had contractors waiting for word they could begin the pipeline through neighboring Dijobuli, taking Zahkim oil to the coast. Zahkim would save millions in transportation costs. To cement this deal, all that was missing was the bride from Dijobuli.

  Nasim frowned—not Jasmine calling, as he had hoped. It was indeed a contractor, so he took the call. He spoke a few curt words to the man to give an update on if they would indeed have access through Dijobuli starting today or not, and rang off.

  Next to him, Arif crossed his arms and shook his head. "Are you trying to curse your wedding even more than you have already?"

  "This is a bloody business deal."

  Arif scowled. When he did that, he looked far too like their cousin Tarek. All three of them shared the black hair common in Zahkim, but Arif had uncommonly pale eyes.

  Nasim slapped his cousin's arm. "Stop fretting."

  Looking down at his mobile, he started to text Jasmine's number. Arif grabbed the mobile out of Nasim's hand. "No. You are the groom. You will await your bride with dignity as befits the royal family. Tarek isn't here to be head of family, so it's up to me to see that you behave, and I will also caution you that patience is the key to every great treasure. You might want to move slowly with this girl you are marrying."

  Stiffening, Nasim swiped his mobile back out of Arif's hand and pocketed it. "Says the man who fell headlong for his new wife in one night. I can handle my own affairs."

  Arif's tone sharpened. "This is not another of your casual affairs."

  "Is it not? You're sounding an awful lot like Sheikha Amal now. Tarek's grandmother was full of advice, most of it fit for the 1900s."

  "She must have heard the same talk I have that Jasmine's not really up for this wedding."

  Nasim opened his mouth to tell Arif he could bugger himself. He bit off the words. Heads had turned to the back of the garden. The crowd hushed. His bride—heavily veiled with the niqab and wearing traditional red robes lavishly embroidered with gold thread—had arrived.

  Suddenly, he couldn't breathe, his pulse kicked up to a pounding, and more sweat trickled down his spine. He wanted to turn and run. He wanted to tell Arif and anyone within earshot that he wasn't ready to give up his life of women, business, and more women. He didn't think of himself as vain, but he knew his looks—tall at six-three and fit from mountain biking, with a trim beard and mustache,
and thick, flat, black eyebrows that gave him a brooding look—drew the women to him. He'd never given it much thought, but he'd enjoyed the attention. It had been in the back of his mind that someday he would marry. He wanted children—eventually. Just not now.

  But in those bloody endless meetings with Sheikh Ahmad, as he'd struggled to negotiate access for Zahkim to the coast, the ruler of Dijobuli had brought up his daughter. "She is too wild. I indulged her. Now she wears scandalous clothing from Paris, wants a profession as a journalist of all things, and says she will defy me when it comes to arranging her marriage."

  Wild had sounded good to Nasim, and Tarek had already briefed Nasim on how badly Zahkim needed this boost to the economy. So Nasim had jumped in before thinking too much. As usual. Ah, well, it was done—or was about to be done. He'd agreed to this, had signed the contracts, and now he took a long breath and let it out. He repeated the action twice more and settled to his fate.

  Grab your copy of The Sheikh's Unexpected Wife

  Available April 12th 2018

  www.LeslieNorthBooks.com

  BLURB

  Sheikh Khalid Al-Qasimi’s playboy ways have finally caught up with him. After creating a scandal during a diplomatic visit to America, Khalid is given a choice by his father—marry or face banishment. Rather than lose his family, Khalid bows to his father’s wishes but an outspoken American interrupts Khalid’s would-be wedding. Now Khalid has a new plan that might please his father, secure his inheritance and leave Khalid still able to go on with his life ...he’ll take the beautiful American as his bride— and then his father will hate her so much he’ll beg Khalid not to get married after all.