Sheikhs: Rich, powerful desert kings and the women who bring them to their knees...

by Clare Connelly

  He lifted the fingers of his able hand and traced the outline of her lips. “I was too angry to pay any proper attention to you. I was so angry.” He shook his head. “A wasted emotion given how perfectly it has all turned out.”

  She kissed his fingertip then angled her face, so that his palm cupped her cheek. “It scared me to realise how your words could wound me, because it forced me to accept, so early on, that I cared for you deeply.”

  “Please, I beg you, Eleanor, don’t think of that conversation again. I should never have thought that way about you, let alone said those things.”

  “I know. I understand you so much better now. But Aki, there is one thing that I can’t forget. And even though I love you as I do, I know that my happiness will always be a little bit lessened if we don’t… talk about it.”

  “What is it?” His face was serious, his eyes searching her expression for understanding.

  “My papa.” She lowered her gaze, focussing on the print of his shirt. “I don’t want the two men I love to continue as enemies. The enmity you feel for my father is difficult for me to accept, especially because I think you misunderstand him completely.”

  He shook his head slowly. “I don’t want to do anything that upsets you,” he promised firmly. “But hating your family has been the habit of a lifetime.”

  And the beautiful joy she’d felt just a moment before seemed to burst, like a water balloon that had been made too full. Pop, and out went that sense of euphoric contentment. “He’s… not what you think.”

  “I know.”

  Her eyes flew to his. “You know?”

  “Yes.” He lifted her hand and kissed it. “I wanted to hate him, and I wanted to hate you. But when the chopper was going down, all I could think was that I couldn’t hate you. That I couldn’t hurt you. And that I had to start working out how to make our marriage work. Your father is important to you, and so I will get to know him better.”

  “He really never wanted to be in this palace, you know.”

  “I understand. It is simply that he is a focal point for a dedicated band of disruptive fools. Once we have a little Katabi-Rami heir, the issue will be sealed.”

  She grinned at him, feeling her joy top the balloon right back up again.

  He pushed up so that he could kiss her lips, and as always, felt that magical, time-defying string wrap around them. “You know, I have been thinking about your family and you.” He pulled away from her so that he could show her how serious his words were. “How incredibly brave you were, to come to this country and do what you did, all for your father’s sake.”

  “Uh uh,” she interrupted. “Remember? It was for my sake too.”

  He nodded. “Nonetheless, it was a courageous leap of faith. I wondered if we should formally invite your parents and Michelle to journey to Talina and remain for a period of time. To ease your transition, and also to help Michelle move past her marriage.”

  Eleanor smiled down at him, her throat clogged with tears. “I like that idea very much. On one condition.”

  “Yes, Emira?”

  “I don’t want anyone to take me away from you –for long. The thing is, I’m rather obsessed with my husband, and I like the idea of being locked in this room with you forever and ever and ever. Just us.”

  His laugh was a low rumble. As he looked up at her radiant face, he felt a weight shift inside of him, and sobered. “No matter what happens in my life, Emira, I will live with the greatest gratitude for whatever conspired to bring us together. You were always my destiny, but now you are my match, in every possible way. I love you like no man has loved before, and for the rest of this life on earth, I will show you that you are beyond value.”

  Epilogue

  THREE YEARS LATER

  “She definitely has your eyes.” The sight of the powerful Sultan Aki Katabi, ruler of Talina, cradling a tiny baby in his arms was enough to bring an already emotional Eleanor to tears.

  “They are my father’s eyes, too,” she said with a watery smile.

  “So they are,” Aki nodded, coming to sit gingerly on the bed beside his wife. Their little daughter was staring up at him, the recognition amazing to see in a new born. “She is curious about life, like you too.”

  Eleanor looked down at the bundle she held and grinned. “And he seems to like only to eat and sleep. I don’t know where that comes from!”

  He laughed. “He’ll change. For now, at least one of them seems likely to give you a break.”

  “They’re perfect, anyway.” Her voice cracked. “A little prince and princess for Talina.” She looked up at her husband. “When will you announce their arrival?”

  In accordance with the centuries’ old Talinese tradition, not a word had been spoken about Eleanor’s pregnancy. Many generations ago, the risk of assassination to prevent unwanted heirs had been too great, and so concealment had offered necessary protection. Though such risk had passed into legend, the tradition remained.

  “Soon,” he said without taking his eyes off their daughter. “I want them to belong only to us for a little while longer.”

  “They’ll always belong to us,” she pointed out with a wistful glance at both of her children. “As much as two people can belong to their parents, anyway”.

  “I know. But the moment they are announced, they will become the future of this country. I know what this life will be like for them. To grow up with the knowledge that you are to rule is both a gift and a burden. Let’s give them at least the first day of their lives as innocent little babies.”

  Eleanor scanned her husband’s face. “You’ve never spoken like that before.”

  “I suppose I don’t think of it often.”

  “Your childhood was happy, though. You were close to your parents and cousins.”

  “I was fortunate that my father was not ruler. The fact that it passed down through my mother meant that my parents were more relaxed with all of the protocols.” He cleared his throat and looked into his wife’s eyes. “These children are the future of Talina, but I do not want them to feel that is all they are. Their value is far greater than the sum total of their expectations.”

  Her eyes glittered in her face. “They are so much more than that already.”

  He reached across and brushed a hand over his wife’s hair. Not a day had passed, since his accident, when he hadn’t looked at her and thanked the heavens for having her in his life. Now, with her face showing signs of her exhaustion, and her eyes wet with unshed tears, he felt that his heart was almost bursting out of his body, for all the love it held.

  “Can we come in yet?” A knock at the door sounded, followed by Michelle’s head craning through the opening.

  Eleanor nodded welcomingly. “Yes, come in. Come and meet your little niece and nephew.”

  And though pride in her children occupied her emotions, there was joy for her sister too. Three years after the end of her disastrous marriage and she was completely unrecognisable. Her smile seemed to travel from ear to ear, and her eyes always shone with contentment.

  “Come on, Rye! Hurry up!” They walked in hand in hand, two people who’s union had also been written in the stars. Had it not been for the fateful marriage of Aki to Eleanor, Ryan and Michelle would never have met. Not that their path to marriage had been a smooth one, but they’d got there in the end, and their happiness was contagious.

  “Are Mum and Papa here yet?” Eleanor asked her sister, handing her son over to Michelle’s waiting arms.

  “Their flight should have landed about five minutes ago. I’m sure they’ll make it to the hospital in record time.”

  Eleanor grinned. “Our daughter has dad’s eyes.”

  “So she does.” Michelle craned her neck to look at the baby Aki was holding. Ryan was standing back a little way, hovering uncertainly on the edge of the group.

  “Jeez, Rye, you look like you’ve never held a baby before.”

  “I know – it’s just Juliette is so big now. Compared to these tiny
little things.” He looked at his wife. “Was she really ever this tiny?”

  “Yes.” Michelle laughed. “But you’re right. She’s grown so much in two years.”

  “Where is my favourite niece?” Eleanor asked quietly, for her son was starting to stir in Michelle’s arms.

  “She’s at the palace. She fell asleep while we were waiting to hear.”

  Michelle and Ryan stayed just long enough to demonstrate that they were going to be a spectacularly affectionate aunt and uncle to the royal twins. They left when Katherine and Nasir arrived, as even the royal suite at the hospital felt crowded with two babies, and six adults.

  “They’re perfect,” Katherine enthused softly, easily managing both twins on her lap. “Just like you.” She smiled at her youngest daughter, and felt a stirring of deep maternal pride. Eleanor had always burned with a bright flame, her certainty as to her decisions something they had often joked about.

  But she had been right, again.

  In marrying a man she hardly knew, she had brought good to so many people’s lives. Nasir was finally free to come and go in his own country. Despite the resentment each had brought to the relationship, Nasir and Aki were now close. Where Ryan was a completely irreverent, relaxed son-in-law the bond between Aki and Nasir was filled with formal respect and an understanding of the burden each had shouldered. Descending from royal bloodlines was not easy, but all that could be different for this generation of Katabi children.

  But both of the men their daughters were married to were kind, generous, and interesting souls.

  Katherine’s face darkened momentarily, as she thought of Michelle’s first husband. Jak. How dark had been those days for a mother to bear. To see her first daughter so over-ruled by someone; to see her miserable and unable to comprehend that she could remove herself from the situation.

  And now? Michelle was almost happier than any human had a right to be.

  Yes, life had a way of working out, sometimes. And the proof of how splendidly it had all come together was the three beautiful grandchildren she had welcomed to her heart.

  “They seem very happy with their newest additions to the family,” Aki remarked, as Eleanor’s parents left.

  “How could they not be? The twins are, after all, quite divine.”

  He grinned. “They are not yet teenagers.”

  “Oh, we have forever to worry about that.”

  “No.” He shook his head, and came to sit beside her on the bed. He lowered his head and kissed her gently. “No worry for you. Never again. If I can promise you one thing, my beautiful Emira, it is that you need never worry about anything in your life.”

  She smiled against his cheek. “That’s preposterous.”

  “Perhaps. But I am King, don’t you know? I order you to be the happiest woman on the earth, forever and ever.”

  “Well, when you put it like that…”

  Bought by the Sheikh

  Prologue

  Zayn clicked on Julia’s name impatiently, his raven black hair glistening in the early evening sunlight. The flight from America to his home country of Naman was long, and kept him out of the loop for far longer than he liked. Besides that, the latest company he was in the process of acquiring had turned out to have a surprisingly diverse asset list, and it had taken his full concentration to decipher the complex information.

  But now, in the comfort of his limousine, being luxuriously conveyed to his city palace, he waited for the communication from Julia to open. He had admitted to no one, least of all himself, how he lived and breathed for her emails.

  It was ridiculous. In the six months since meeting her, he’d reached a state of almost perpetual distraction. He thought of little but her, and every nerve ending was taught, waiting for her scheduled trip to his country.

  It was unheard of for Zayn to be in a monogamous relationship; even less so for him to wait to bed a woman he found desirable. But there was an indefinable quality about Julia Cosgrove-Howard that he found thoroughly intoxicating. And like a fine wine, he was happy to leave her to develop and mature before enjoying her fully.

  With the same seductive smile that always crossed his face when he heard from her, he looked down at his phone.

  And froze.

  Unmistakably, it was Julia, languidly sprawled across the bed in the kind of lingerie he had fantasised about her wearing. Sheer and lacy, it was the stuff of dreams. But she wasn’t alone. Curled around her possessively was a man. Zayn’s face was ashen as he forced himself to scroll the whole way down the email. There was no text, just picture after picture. Ten in total, of the woman he had actually thought about marrying, being made love to by another man.

  Zayn wasn’t sure why she’d sent it, and he wasn’t going to demean himself by asking.

  He’d been an idiot to think he actually cared for her. Zayn was a lone-wolf. Always had been, always would be. No. He’d been wrong about his feelings. How could he have ever believed he cared? But one day, he’d make her pay for cheating on him. The plan came to him fully formed, and ready to execute. It would take time, but he knew Julia’s greatest weakness, and eventually, he would be able to use it, or rather him, against her.

  He turned his focus back to the report he’d been studying on the flight over. Yes, every company had assets. It was just a matter of working out how to acquire them. The expression of furious intent that crossed his face would have chilled an onlooker to the bone.

  No one made a fool of Zayn Al-melara and got away with it. No one.

  Chapter One

  Four years later

  Julia wound her window down and breathed in the fresh, floral scented air of the countryside. On one side of her silver Porsche, there were fields and fields of rolling green, delineated with low, stone fences. In the far distance, she could make out a small herd of sheep, grazing contentedly in the pale morning sun.

  To her left, a bramble hedge ran for miles and miles. She knew they were blackberries, and that at this time of year, they would taste particularly sweet and warm, because her childhood summers had been spent clambering through the thicket and eating so many of the juicy little fruits that she frequently made herself ill. With a small, nostalgic smile, she gave into temptation and swerved her car onto the stone verge.

  "Good morning," she grinned over at a little wren balancing precariously on the edge of the thicket. "I won't be long."

  With fingers that had performed this task countless times in the past, she plucked berry after berry from the hedge, and stored them in a takeaway coffee cup she'd had since leaving London earlier that morning.

  "See, I told you I'd be quick," she called to the bird before sliding back into her seat and pulling the car back out onto the deserted country lane.

  She couldn't resist the berries, not even for a minute. As she pointed the car left, towards the imposingly grand entrance of Howard Manor, she reached across and dug a clutch of the night-sky colored orbs from the cup and popped them in her mouth.

  They were so good, just as she'd remembered, that she made a moaning sound into the silent car. It was one of those rare, perfect summer days. The kind Keats wrote about, and Thomas Moore dreamed of. All blue sky and shining sun; and here in the country, everywhere she looked, things were green and glistening. And to punctuate it all, the sound of chirping birds seemed to serenade her car as she moved along the sweeping drive and approached the enormous building she'd once called 'home'.

  Despite having spent the better part of nineteen years living in this grand old dame of a building, she still paused for a moment to stare up at it from beneath her dust-covered windshield. The façade had been built sometime in the early eighteenth century; erected as the country seat for her ancestors, who had been important at the royal courts since Elizabethan times. Though somewhere in the last century, the Cosgrove-Howards had moved out of politics and high-profile living, something Julia was excessively grateful for. Her father had sought a life of business, and he'd excelled at it. Julia had every
intention of following in his footsteps. The thought of living in any kind of spotlight scared the jeepers out of her. She much preferred the privacy and anonymity of a quiet life.

  She scooped her cup of berries from the front passenger seat and, pausing only to pop an extra few into her mouth, crossed the gravel forecourt. The day was young, and after a visit with her father, she was heading to Glastonbury. It would be her last festival for a while, she thought wistfully. University was finished now, and she had a career to consider. A career she was excited to begin. She'd worked her butt off at university for the simple reason that she wanted to make her own mark on the world. Having been born to a family of wealth and privilege was not going to preclude her from following her own dreams.

  Her denim cut-offs were her festival favorites. They were soft with wear, and came to just below her buttocks, while her Hunter wellies came almost to her knees. On someone with a little more height, they might have fit better, but Julia was not particularly leggy. She slid a manicured, berry stained finger beneath the strap of her singlet top and moved it back into position, from where it had slid down her shoulder..

  "Dad?" She called from the front door. "Hey, Daddy? Where are you?"

  She kicked the boots off and stood them up behind the door, before padding bare foot down the hallway in search of her father. This early on a sunny day, he should have been in the conservatory, reading every word of The Guardian, and guffawing with gusto at the liberal pieces he didn’t approve of. Only he wasn't. His coffee cup wasn't even in its usual spot, on the glass topped table.

  "Dad?" Fear gripped at her heart sooner than it ought; but then, it had only been two years since his heart attack. She'd never forgotten that feeling of despair and worry, when the doctor had told her that he was in an induced coma. After all, he was her only family, and she was his. Since her mother had died bringing her into the world, it had been Julia and Colin, an unstoppable, co-dependent team.