Awakened by the
Powerful Sheik
By Elizabeth Lennox
Register for free stories at http://www.elizabethlennox.com/subscribe
Follow me on Facebook: www.facebook.com/Author.Elizabeth.Lennox
Or on Twitter: www.twitter.com/ElizabethLenno1
Copyright 2020
ISBN13: 9781950451159
All rights reserved
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Any duplication of this material, either electronic or any other format, either currently in use or a future invention, is strictly prohibited, unless you have the direct consent of the author.
Table of Contents
Prologue
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
Chapter 16
Epilogue
Excerpt to Guilty Pleasures
Prologue
Tamara’s breath puffed in front of her in little clouds. She didn’t mind the cold or the darkness. She minded…everything else. Life was…complicated, she thought as she pushed herself harder, running along the streets of London as fast as she could. The Thames River was on one side of her and the iconic Parliament building on the other as she raced past. Tamara ignored the burning of her lungs as she tried to outrun the demons chasing her. She felt as if slowing down would bring all of her problems crashing into her.
“Faster,” she whispered and sped up, her feet pounding the dirty concrete, her arms pumping and her lungs heaving. “Faster!”
Avoiding the already milling crowds at Trafalgar Square, she turned right, then left at the next block. She ran along Victoria Embankment, past the Waterloo Bridge and all of the wonderful sites that drew tourists into the city every year. But Tamara saw none of it. There was only one man’s face that kept flashing through her mind and it mocked her. Tormented her! With every passing day, she grew older. The day of reckoning was looming and she was out of ideas!
When her apartment building came into view, she slowed. Not because she’d worked out her problem, but because her legs were shaking from exertion. Another block, and she slowed even more, coming to a walk. She pulled out her cell phone and pressed a button, the app calculating her heartrate. When she looked at the number, which was well above where it should be for maximum exercise capacity, she cringed slightly, then stuffed her cell phone back into the side pocket of her leggings and leaned against the ornate, cement wall, stretching her muscles.
“I have to come up with a new plan,” she whispered.
Unfortunately, as she stretched overworked muscles, nothing occurred to her. With a sigh, she walked into her apartment building, trudged up the stairs, and entered her small space. “It’s time for a long shower and an even longer conversation with Mike,” she announced out loud. “He’ll know what to do.”
An hour later, showered and dressed in slim black slacks, black boots, and a black turtleneck sweater with a silver necklace, Tamara entered the small office space that housed the headquarters to the property management company she and Mike owned and operated. She’d pulled her long, dark hair high up onto her head and it graced her shoulders like a black waterfall, enhancing the exotic beauty of her almond-shaped eyes.
There were only seven desks and no private offices, but she and Mike worked at the back of the space that was more “urban chic” than “sleek sophistication”. The furniture was minimalistic with particle board tables held up with filing cabinets on each end. The exposed brick wall on three sides plus the open ceiling, exposed ductwork painted black gave the space a more upscale feel.
“What’s up, Gorgeous?” Mike asked when he walked in fifteen minutes later. They tended to arrive well before the other employees, giving themselves a bit of time to talk privately about business issues, brainstorm about marketing ideas, or just vent about whatever was on their minds.
“Ugh!” she griped as Mike tossed his messenger bag to the side of his desk, which faced hers, large computer monitors were angled off to each corner of their desks so that they could talk face to face. But that was where the similarities ended. Mike’s desk was precisely organized, files color coded and stacked neatly in wire holders. Tamara’s desk looked like an absolute mess, but she knew precisely where everything was and the status of every property she and Mike owned and maintained.
Mike was from Tular, which had intrigued Tamara from the moment he’d first mentioned the huge, powerful country. She’d told him that she was from the neighboring country of Nadir, which was technically accurate. But she hadn’t mentioned that she was actually a member of the royal family of Nadir. In fact, Tamara was the daughter of the ruler. Nor did she mention that she was sorta…kinda…technically betrothed to the head honcho of Tular.
Tamara loved her friendship with Mike, whose real name was Micah DeSrat and was one of the gayest men Tamara had ever met. Every day, his hair was perfectly coifed with more hair products than Tamara had ever owned. Mike wore bright colors, flowers, and had a variety of flashy shoes that he coordinated with his outfits. Mike was the stereotypical gay man, but his boyfriend was…not! Joe was about three inches taller than Mike and wore faded jeans and tee-shirts with big, clunky boots. That’s it. Tamara had never seen Joe wear anything else. If Mike was the archetype of a gay male character, Joe was not. He was about as un-gay-looking as a man could appear.
And Mike was madly in love with Joe. Tamara suspected that Joe was just as wild for Mike, but he was more circumspect about it.
Mike sat down in his chair, his intelligent eyes surveying Tamara’s appearance. “Goodness, you look fabulous. All that tough-girl black makes your skin appear creamy and gorgeous.” He paused, his eyes squinting slightly. “And is that a bit of blush on your cheeks?” he asked, smiling because he’d suggested adding a bit of blush to her makeup routine just a few days ago.
“You’re annoying,” Tamara grumbled, looking steadfastly at her computer without bothering to confirm or deny the presence of color on her cheeks.
“No run this morning?” he teased. Tamara had a tendency to be grouchy if she didn’t go for a hard run in the morning.
She shifted in her chair, but didn’t lift her eyes to look at him. “I ran. It was a good, long run.”
Mike shook his head. “Honey, there’s no such thing as a good run, especially if it was long. In fact, ‘good’ and ‘run’ should never be used in the same sentence.”
Tamara just laughed. This was a regular issue for Mike, who hated exercise and disdained any sort of movement that might cause even a hint of sweat to form on his brow.
“You know, it really does clear one’s head. A good run can…”
He lifted a hand to stop her, bowing his head slightly as if trying to explain what a “good run” could do for a person was a pointless endeavor. “Dear, are you seriously going to tell me that your run this morning solved all of your problems? Because the wrinkle between your eyes tells me a different story. That wrinkle says that you are still worried about something. Could it be the same issue that has been bothe
ring you for the past few years? Could it be the reason you go out partying once or twice a month with me to nightclubs that you claim are too loud and annoying all the other weekends?”
Tamara was stunned that he’d figured out something she’d taken great pains to hide from the world. “Okay, so…well, maybe. Yeah.”
Mike shifted, his eyes narrowing on her lovely features. “Care to tell me what’s going on? Or are you going to continue to create wrinkles on that beautiful forehead of yours?”
All morning, she’d been eager to talk to Mike, but now that she was confronted with explaining her…betrothal-engagement-whatever…she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t lose her friendship with Mike. He was too important to her and, if he knew…things would change. Their relationship would change. So instead, she shook her head. “Yes, something is going on, but I can’t discuss it.”
A flash of hurt crossed Mike’s face, but then he accepted her decision. “There’s a new condo over on Smith Street that looks promising. I’ve already contacted the real estate agent, asking for a peek. Will you have time to go with me this afternoon to take a look at it?”
Tamara glanced at her calendar which was already pulled up on her computer. “Sure. What’s this one like?” she asked.
And they were off discussing business issues. Some of the places the two of them had bought over the years were rented out for short term periods to tourists or business people in town for only a few days. Other neighborhoods didn’t allow short term rentals, so the properties they owned in those areas were rented out to long term tenants. Most were one or two bedroom condos scattered throughout the city, but over the years that Tamara and Mike had been in business together, they’d slowly bought up twenty different properties. Sometimes, they owned the whole building and other times, they only owned one or two spaces. No matter the property, she and Mike took a great deal of pride in their efforts and in the growth of their business.
If it were only business issues that worried Tamara, she would have told Mike and they could have brainstormed through the problem. Unfortunately, Tam had a bigger, more looming issue to deal with.
Chapter 1
“She’s the epitome of a sweet, docile woman, willing to do your tiniest bidding,” the man gushed, waving his hands to emphasize his point.
Sheik Jurid bin Casees of Tular silently cringed in horror. “I’m sure that your daughter is very beautiful,” he began, only to be interrupted again.
“Of course,” Idran el Hamid nodded. “She is stunningly beautiful! But her beauty is eclipsed by her compliant nature. She will adhere to your wishes, Your Highness.”
Jurid couldn’t contain his disgust. He’d heard this statement about Princess Tamara el Hamid several times over the years, which was one of the reasons he hadn’t set a wedding date. What man wanted a woman who was nothing more than a sniveling shadow? Not Jurid! He wanted a thinking, breathing, strong-willed woman who would offer her opinions and challenge him. He wanted an equal partner.
Unfortunately, Jurid’s father had agreed to the betrothal decades ago. In fact, Princess Tamara had barely been a month old when the ruler of Nadir had approached Jurid’s father about a future marriage between their children. At the time, there had been heavy fighting along the borders of their countries and the betrothal, the promise of a future union, had stopped it.
But Jurid certainly wasn’t in a hurry to marry the woman. Well, child, if she was as brainless as her father seemed to imply. It seemed to him that the status quo, this betrothal, served the same purpose, maintaining the peace along the border.
“Where is she now?” Jurid asked, assuming she was back at Idran’s palace, sequestered from the world. He shuddered at the idea of dining with a woman who had no opinions of her own, who looked to him for every thought and decision. He knew that some men might think that was ideal, but not Jurid.
Idran was still droning on about the merits of his daughter, her beauty and submissiveness. Jurid’s cousin, Hidar, who acted in Jurid’s place when he was out of the country, stepped into the room carrying a file. Jurid looked at the man still blathering, unaware that Jurid had mentally moved on to the next issue on his agenda.
Standing up, Jurid didn’t care that Idran was in the middle of a sentence. “Excuse me, Idran. I have another meeting.”
Idran looked at the taller man as he stood up, furious that his daughter wasn’t here to demonstrate what an excellent wife she would be. Sheik Idran pressed his lips together and stood as well, bowing his head even though, technically, the two men were the same rank. Yes, it rankled that his country was less powerful, but as soon as his bothersome Tamara married the arrogant Jurid, the other countries in the region would respect Idran more! An alliance with the powerful Sheik Jurid of Tular would give Idran respect and unimagined power! It would also allow him to crush the annoying factions within his government that wouldn’t bow to his will! He wanted obedience and they challenged his ideas at every turn!
“She’s flying to Athens!” he blurted.
Relief surged through Idran when Sheik Jurid stopped and turned back to face him.
“Who is flying to Athens?” the powerful sheik asked, but he looked bored and irritated, as if Idran were an annoying gnat!
“Princess Tamara,” Idran clarified. “My daughter’s friend is getting married. My daughter is beautiful and loyal! She is traveling across many countries to be by her friend’s side for this important event.”
Jurid didn’t look impressed and Idran understood. The marriage of an unknown female was of little consequence to a man of Sheik Jurid’s power and stature. “The friend is marrying Mr. Christoph Anastas,” he stated, knowing that the man’s name would surely impress Sheik Jurid.
The surprise was a relief and Idran’s shoulders relaxed slightly.
“Christoph is getting married?” Jurid laughed, looking at his cousin. “Did you know this, Hidar?”
The other man, shorter and not nearly as broad in the shoulders, shook his head. “I was not aware of that, Your Highness.”
Jurid laughed, shaking his head. “I went to school with Christoph! Damn! I can’t believe that he’s getting married. Who is his bride?” he asked.
Idran came up blank for a moment, then the name came back to him. “No one important, Your Highness,” he replied. “A woman by the name of Ms. Lana Kostas.”
Jurid nodded contemplatively. “That’s the daughter of Higar Kostas, who died a few months ago. I knew the man. His death was unexpected. I seem to remember something about a girl, but she was a blur when I last saw Higar.” He paused for a long moment, thinking back to that day. Higar had been a good businessman. But he also remembered the cute girl who had been by the man’s side. “If I remember correctly,” he replied, chuckling slightly, “Higar’s daughter was a high-energy blur with curly, dark hair and bright eyes. She had a lovely smile, too.” He tilted his head slightly. “And she liked to draw things.”
Hidar compressed his lips. “Sire, I believe you have several paintings of Ms. Kostas’s in the collection hanging in your private sitting room.”
Jurid’s eyes widened in surprise. “The ones with the objects in different places and all the colors? Damn, I didn’t realize that she was the artist.”
Hidar nodded. “It isn’t common knowledge, Your Highness,” he bowed his head slightly. “In fact, I believe that Ms. Kostas goes to great pains to maintain her anonymity.”
Jurid chuckled, thinking that Christoph might be in a bit more trouble than he realized. “Well, then, I think I need to travel to Athens. That contract with the shipping companies needs a bit of attention, don’t you think?” he suggested, smacking Hidar on the back and causing the man to stumble forward slightly.
A moment later, Jurid walked out of the meeting room, leaving behind two very confused men who looked at each other with equal revulsion.
“Excuse me,” Hidar bowed slightly to Sheik Idran. “I’ll send someone for fresh coffee.” And he walked away, not bothering with t
he other palace niceties that were normally given to visiting royalty. Idran didn’t care. He had other priorities and Sheik Idran was the leader of a very minor country.
Idran watched as the door closed behind them, his teeth grinding in fury. “This stubbornness from my child has to stop!” he growled, then he picked up his papers, the papers that listed so many things he’d wanted to discuss with Sheik Jurid, issues that he needed help with, and not a single one had been discussed. This whole meeting had been about his daughter!
“She needs to set a date!” he grumbled and stalked out the opposite doorway. He ignored his guards as he stormed out of the palace, determined to fly home. Perhaps there was some way to call his daughter home instead of allowing her to reside in London. Unfortunately, his orders to return home so far had either been ignored or his disobedient daughter had given him a reason why she couldn’t return just yet. The silly child seemed to think she had a business to run. Pah! Her business was to marry a man of her father’s choosing and produce babies! How dare she think otherwise!
Chapter 2
The woman stepping out through the side doors of the courthouse was…stunning! The dark cascade of hair, the beautiful, smiling eyes and the figure that…his mouth went dry as he took in the woman’s lush figure. Every part of her was soft and fragile, and yet, when her eyes lifted to his, he felt a jolt of surprise at the intelligence there, the defiant lift of her chin.
Jurid’s body came alive as a primal, urgent need rose up inside of him. The urgent need to take her away to some place private and claim her as his own was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. Women were interesting creatures, but he’d never felt this level of need, this almost feral desire for possession. Oh and he liked the way her eyes dared him! This was no submissive miss! Hell no! The lovely woman in the lavender dress was defiant and feminine, daring and soft.
Awakened by the Passionate Sheik (The Ladies of The Burling School Book 2) Page 1
