The Sheikh’s Pretend Fiancée Page 10

  Apparently, her husband wanted to say goodbye to her after all.

  Slipping her sunglasses on, she ducked into the car and glared at the man sitting next to her. “I’m not taking the clothes, so you’re wasting their time by having them load them in the car.”

  “They are yours,” he said simply. “Who else would wear them?”

  “Your next fake wife?” she snapped.

  “Not fake,” he reminded. “Just temporary. Why are you so cold, Liyah?” He briefly touched her thigh, and she shivered but stared out the window.

  He was either charming her or hurting her. “Why does it matter? You got what you wanted. Sex and condos. I got what I wanted. Sex and money.”

  “That’s not you talking, and we both know it. I felt your heart open to me. Now there is only a rock in your chest.”

  "Business isn't personal, Asad," she reminded him.

  "This is not you."

  She was getting tired of hearing him say that. “This is assuredly me."

  "What changed?"

  Liyah scoffed. “Like you don’t know. You made this version of me," she answered, but as soon as the words were out of her mouth, she regretted them. Now he’d never leave her alone.

  His brow quirked. "How did I make you this way, Liyah? All I did was try to open up to you, even when I knew that you were going to leave me.” He reached for her hand, and she pulled away.

  “I’m surprised your driver didn’t tell you. I went looking for you the other day, to take you to lunch, right after you said all of those sweet words to me. Your eyes said everything when you were having lunch, and they weren’t looking at me. You haven't found your sheikha. And I do not have to play the part of a fool for your entertainment purposes."

  Stunned at her words, Asad blurted, "The travel planner?"

  "Whoever she is. Yes."

  Grinning from ear to ear, Asad sat back. “All of this is over her. You were jealous."

  "I'm sure there's a more accurate word for what I was. I see no reason for you to laugh,” she snapped. Could this car really go no faster? She glanced out the window and frowned. Was Ori taking them in circles? They hadn’t even reached the heart of the city.

  To her horror, he started to laugh in earnest. She tried to ignore it, but he reached over and cupped her chin and turned her face toward him. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a brochure and two tickets. “You mean . . . this woman?"

  Folding her arms over her chest, Liyah's eyes reluctantly left his and flicked to the backside of the brochure. She wasn’t entirely sure what she was looking at.

  "She's a family friend, just starting her business, and . . . very much pregnant. Surely you don't think I'd woo a married woman—or any other woman, at this point."

  Dragging her eyes up from the tickets, she stared at him. There was warmth and relief in his green eyes—and something else. Love.

  "There is only you, Liyah. I wrote those vows especially to communicate that. I wish you would have believed them as we stood before the world, bonding our hearts."

  Liyah averted her eyes, and his hand covered hers. She didn’t yank it away, but she couldn’t form any words.

  “I’d like to think that your vows were honest, as well. Would you really give up all this, with such a dashing young sheikh at its center? Would you have all of this come to an end . . . for business? Our business became personal the moment I realized I would never find another woman more special, and humble, despite how extraordinary she is. I am in love with you, Liyah. Amira didn't need to resort to her cupid-matchmaking. I was enspelled long before that. Fighting it, at first, but spellbound."

  Tears were sliding down her cheeks, and he gently wiped them away. She realized that she had been a fool all along, but not because of Asad. No, she was a fool because she hadn’t the courage to follow her own heart when it was telling her to run into his arms and never let go.

  Answering him with a kiss, she sealed their fate. “We’re not going to the airport, are we?”

  “We are,” he said with a wicked grin. “But you are not going to the States. I’ve booked us a two-week trip on a cruise, and my dear, I am going to love you around the world.”

  Laughing at him, she straddled him and kissed him again in earnest. Now, she’d finally found her home, and it was in the arms of her sheikh.

  Epilogue

  “That rat-bastard was cheating on me for months! How could I have been so stupid!”

  Liyah sat in her chair with her hands comfortably splayed around her swelling belly. She’d been on her feet for hours at the ribbon-cutting ceremony for her new library, a sweet taste of vengeance toward the library that had never even had the decency to call her back when she was so desperate for a job.

  Now she’d erected three of her own.

  The reception hall was beautifully decorated in a book theme, and Asad had convinced all of his rich and powerful friends to donate their own private collections of books to be displayed on the library’s first opening days. There was little that her husband wouldn’t do for her, these days, even when she woke him up in the middle of the night with another strange craving.

  It was the least he could do for getting her into this condition in the first place.

  The press had interviewed her, and while their questions were more about her new life as a sheikha and the babe growing in her belly, she always gently steered it back to her beloved books. Asad might be in the limelight, but that didn’t mean she had to be the same.

  Asad had come clean about their fairytale engagement, and it seemed that Bashar had already figured it out. He’d known that they were a love match even before they did and had orchestrated everything to force them to realize it. The investors had signed the contract for the condos, and the press alone was already making them a smashing success.

  Rashid was going to have a lot of work ahead of him if he wanted to top all of that.

  “Mother,” Liyah reminded her mom for the third time. “You are on vacation. You are not supposed to obsess about your slimeball of an ex-husband.”

  “I know, darling.” Her mother reached over and hugged her. The baby kicked, and her mother gasped. “I didn’t do right by you, but I can hardly be sorry for it. You have found a man who truly loves you, and your family is now expanding across the globe. Your life is just beginning.”

  “Don’t give up hope, Mom. You’re not exactly a doddering old woman. You still have a chance to find someone to love you.”

  “Maybe.” —but her mother didn’t look so sure. Kissing her daughter on the cheek, she left Liyah’s side to chat with Sahaar and Liyah’s exchange-sister. Her mother and her exchange-mother had grown close over the last week, swapping embarrassing stories about Liyah and mothering. Although Liyah had ripped up Asad’s check, he’d still taken care of Sahaar’s medical bills and had helped the older woman get back on her feet again.

  “Your family is my family now,” he’d reminded her when she’d thanked him over and over again.

  Looking back, that was probably the night this little fella had been conceived.

  Amira bragged to everyone that she was responsible for bringing Asad and Liyah together, and Liyah didn’t have the heart to tell her that she’d nearly driven them apart.

  Still.

  She was happy and delirious, and she wanted her other friends to be happy, as well. Her eyes settled on Mila as her friend danced and laughed.

  Arms slipped around her, and Asad kissed her from behind. “What are you thinking about?” he whispered in her ear.

  “Happily ever-afters. What are you thinking about?”

  “That piece of lingerie that I bought you, the first night I made love to you,” he admitted.

  She choked with laughter. “I won’t be able to fit into that for quite awhile!”

  “Naked is good, too,” he said.

  She lifted her head, and he leaned down and kissed her. The whole room went up in cheers (everyone in general) and groans (from his brothers
).

  Yes, she thought happily. Everybody should have their own happy endings.

  End of The Sheikh’s Pretend Fiancée

  The Sharif Sheikhs Series Book 1

  The Sheikh’s Pretend Fiancée, January 4th

  The Sheikh’s Tamed Bride, January 11th

  The Sheikh’s Stubborn Assistant, January 18th

  PS: Do you love sexy Sheikhs and the holiday season? Then keep reading for an exclusive extract from A Sheikh for Christmas.

  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

  Rashid Sharif has never apologized for his wild lifestyle, but after one scandal too many his family is fed up with his playboy ways. He’ll agree to his brother’s outrageous demand that he marry, but it won’t be to some wallflower as his conservative family would prefer. If he’s going through with this farce, there’s only one woman he’ll take as his wife—his sister-in-law’s American friend Mila. She’s a rebellious little thing, with fiery passion simmering beneath her icy exterior. Although Mila’s never been more than coldly polite to him, Rashid will do what it takes to win her over.

  Mila’s always been a wild child, but when she chose to follow her dreams to Dubai it wasn’t to work as a glorified waitress. She needs a chance to get ahead, but when that opportunity comes, it’s not a job she’s offered—it’s a marriage. Rashid Sharif is ridiculously handsome, richer than sin…and a complete player. Mila wants nothing to do with the womanizer, even when he offers her more money than she could make in a lifetime. But when the notorious bad boy begins to play nice, Mila finds it hard to resist temptation.

  As Rashid works to woo Mila, a simple seduction suddenly seems like something more. But can she ever trust the sinful sheikh, or will Mila always worry that Rashid is only playing games with her heart?

  Grab your copy of The Sheikh’s Tamed Bride

  Available January 11th 2018

  www.LeslieNorthBooks.com

  EXCERPT

  The call came just a few hours before dawn. Rashid, the middle brother in the powerful Sharif Sheikh family, had only crawled into bed an hour before the phone started to ring.

  And ring . . . and ring . . . and ring.

  Finally, with a loud growl, he rolled over and picked it up. “You’d better be dying,” he hissed to his friend, Arvio. When the man started to slur, Rashid grunted. “Put Karam on the phone. I can’t understand a word you’re saying.”

  A moment later, Karam came on the line. There had been a time when the three of them had been as thick as thieves, but when his family had begun struggling, Rashid had pulled away in order to focus on business pursuits. Karam and Arvio both took offense.

  “Rashid,” Karam crowed. “We’re in need of some assistance.”

  Sitting up, Rashid pushed the silk sheets off the bed. “What kind of assistance?” he asked warily.

  “We seem to be stranded at the Al Qasr. Would you be able to come and get us?”

  “It’s a hotel. Spend the night,” Rashid snapped. “Unless you’re getting kicked out again.” Karam and Arvio both came from prominent families, but they had a reputation for their partying ways, and often management wasn’t able to overlook their destructive behavior. Both Karam and Arvio’s families were on the verge of cutting them off, and the men—no doubt—didn’t want to call their own drivers to come get them.

  For a moment, he considered telling them that they were on their own. Rashid had too many responsibilities to deal with their immature crap, but they had been friends for a long time, and he knew that he hadn’t been very supportive of them lately. What had started as friendship had begun to feel more like a babysitting job. He had responsibilities, even as the middle son, and they didn’t seem to understand that.

  “I’ll come get you—but, Karam? This is the last time,” he muttered. He knew that he’d said that the last twenty times, but he was at the end of his rope. It was four in the morning, and he had a meeting to attend in the morning.

  Rather than waking one of the drivers, he grabbed his keys and went to the garage himself. Picking a dark sedan—something that would be a bit more inconspicuous than the other cars—he hit the empty streets, reaching the luxury hotel in record time.

  Nodding to the doorman, he took the steps two at a time and entered the lobby. The eyes of the night receptionist widened as the man recognized him. “Sheikh Sharif,” he gasped. “I must apologize. I did not realize that you were staying with us.”

  “I’m not. I’m here for Karam and Arvio. I assume they’re in the penthouse suite?”

  The receptionist looked as if he’d like to say more, and Rashid gritted his teeth. “I’m here to take them home. Don’t worry.”

  Relief swept over the man’s face as he nodded.

  Entering the elevator, Rashid looked forward to the tongue-lashing that he was going to give his friends.

  On the top floor, the elevator opened to the hallway leading to the prestigious luxury suites. A peppy beat was causing the walls to vibrate, and Rashid sighed. It appeared that his two friends weren’t just drunk. They were having a party.

  Fabulous.

  He pounded on the door with bruising force and then crossed his arms, waiting.

  Arvio swung the door open and grinned at him. “Hey! Rashid is here! Now the party really can begin.”

  Glancing into the room, Rashid frowned. Arvio was stark naked, and there wasn’t anyone else in the room. “Get Karam and put some clothes on. You’re leaving.”

  “Oh, we can’t leave yet,” Arvio whined. “Things are just starting to get good. Wait until you see the surprise we have for you.”

  He skipped drunkenly through the common area and into one of the bedrooms.

  Ready to throttle his friends, Rashid followed, only to stop dead at the sight before him. Karam, taking a break from his bedroom activities, languished by the window. It wasn’t the naughty scene before him that made Rashid panic but the two women in the bed.

  He recognized them instantly because he’d met them only days ago when he’d attended with his father and brothers the international conference that was hosted in Dubai every year.

  The bedmates weren’t hookers. They were the daughters of prestigious Italian and Polish diplomats.

  Enraged, Rashid brought his fist around and hit Arvio squarely in the jaw. “What were you thinking?” he bellowed. “If their fathers find out, there will be hell to pay!”

  The girls shrieked and covered themselves. “How are they going to find out unless you tell?” the gorgeous Italian asked, her voice slurring more with every word.

  Rashid searched his memory for their names. The dark-haired Italian beauty was Valentina Ricci, and the Polish blonde bombshell was Ania Kowalski.

  “The press have been following you ladies around all week. Do you really think they wouldn’t spot you with Dubai’s most notorious playboys?”

  Arvio, holding his aching jaw, glared at Rashid. “Do you really think that we wouldn’t take precautions? What’s happened to you? You used to be one of us. We brought you here to have a little fun!”

  “This isn’t fun for me, not anymore. I have to uphold my family’s reputation,” Rashid growled. “Now get dressed. We’re taking these women home before this gets even more out of hand.” He found Arvio’s pants and threw them at him. “Now.”

  Stalking out of the bedroom, he slammed the door behind him. He couldn’t remember ever being so angry in his life. Gritting his teeth, he did his best to straighten up the hotel room so the managers wouldn’t be too upset. Luckily, his friends must have understood because a few minutes l
ater, all of the would-be revelers paraded out with shame in their eyes. He swept them with a stern look before herding the four out of the suite.

  The elevator ride was quiet all the way down, but when they stepped out of the elevator, all hell broke loose. Flashbulbs went off in their faces, and questions filled the air as a handful or reporters rushed them, their cameras pointed right at them.

  “Heads down,” he hissed to the girls as he shielded them with his body. Ignoring the onslaught, he pushed through the crowd and out the door. Luckily, the hotel had sensed trouble and pulled his car right up to the front. Getting the others safely into the car was difficult with the girls swaying on their heels and his friends openly cursing at the reporters, but eventually, he managed to get them all crowded in there.

  Safely getting everyone back to their respective hotels and homes seemed to take forever. He didn’t pull up to the palace again until the sun’s rays were barely peeking over the horizon.

  Every light was burning in Asad’s suite, and Rashid knew that word had already reached them.

  “The diplomats’ daughters?” the older brother roared as Rashid dragged his tired body in. “Have you lost your mind! There are hundreds of women you could have chosen from in Dubai, and you picked Diplomat Ricci and Kowalski’s daughters? Father is already trying to do damage control.”

  Of course his brother didn’t give him the benefit of the doubt. Why should he? Up until the past two years, Rashid had been just like his friends, drinking and sleeping his way across the world. But he’d grown tired of the lifestyle and wanted to be taken seriously. When Asad had introduced his plans to Dubai, not only to invest but also build luxury condos, Rashid hadn’t been far behind with his own idea for the sports complex.