The Sheikh’s Sham Engagement: The Safar Sheikhs Series Book Three

by North, Leslie

  Willow couldn’t squash the incredulous laugh that burst out of her. “Wow.”

  “Sorry. Maybe I’m being weird, but living in Amatbah has changed me. I believe in the magic of this ancient law. It brought me to Fatim, Vanessa to Amad…and now I believe that it will bring you back to Nasser.”

  “Ancient law?” Willow asked. “I’m missing something. My visa is about to expire—I didn’t think they had visa laws in ancient times.”

  Calla had a curious smile on her lips as she poured two mugs of black tea. “Nasser didn’t tell you. The reason that Fatim and I married in the first place was because an ancient law requires the brothers to be married on their thirtieth birthday. For Fatim, not complying meant he would lose his right to rule. Nasser still has time before his thirtieth, but I can see the ways this law is working its magic already.”

  Willow sagged a little, staring at the steaming mug of tea. “I know this sounds like a romantic story and everything, but Nasser and I can’t be together. He made it very clear to me when I had to move home that he had no room for someone who wouldn’t bend to his will. He wanted to maintain our flighty, spur-of-the-moment lifestyle. The way we lived in college. Well, I couldn’t. I had to go home for my sister. And that scared him. I don’t know if he didn’t trust me or just saw the end in sight anyway, but…it was nasty. He was so nasty to me.”

  Calla frowned. “He was a different person when I met him. So sad and lost. I know the breakup wrecked him.”

  “It wrecked me, too. I had wanted to marry him. But he couldn’t handle me living away from him.”

  “He’s struggled with long-term projects with the tribe,” Calla said, extending her legs in front of her. She slurped at her tea and then leaned back on her palms. “His relationship with you is probably the only long-term thing I’ve heard of him attempting.”

  “We were together for two years. That’s like twenty-five in Nasser years.”

  Calla laughed. “He’s getting better though. Bit by bit.”

  “That’s good.” Willow fingered the tassel of a nearby pillow. “I just don’t think it means I have to marry him. I hate that I don’t have a choice in this.”

  “You do have a choice,” Calla insisted. “I’ll admit, I’d love to see you two marry and live happily ever after. But if it’s too painful…then the right path will unfold on its own.”

  “Right. The complete delay of the school and possibly losing my job.” Willow frowned. “I thought I had planned everything out so well, and look at it now.”

  “Well, sometimes we can’t plan everything out down to the last detail,” Calla said, patting Willow’s wrist. She already felt like an old friend, despite the fact that they’d met a half hour ago. “And you will make the best decision for the situation.”

  “This isn’t a decision. This is an ultimatum.”

  “But you have the power to define it. To decide whether you’re the victim or the problem solver.” Calla grinned, sipping at her tea again. “Which one are you?”

  Willow sighed, knowing exactly what Calla was getting at. She liked her new friend. Even if she led her by the hand to the last thing she wanted to go through with. “Problem solver.”

  Calla nodded sagely. “Exactly. And I think you know how to solve this problem.”

  The word “sex” flashed through Willow’s mind, and she swore to herself. That was not the answer to this problem, but it wasn’t exactly unhelpful either. Calla didn’t need to know that, though. “Marriage” was the correct answer to this stupid predicament, and Willow was beginning to see how easily it would solve everything.

  “And just let me know if you need any fashion inspiration for things like a wedding dress,” Calla said, that knowing smile back on her face. “I can help you with anything you’d like.”

  Willow ran a finger along the rim of her mug, toying with the idea for a little bit before speaking. “So, I guess this means you might be my sister-in-law soon, huh?”

  Calla winked. “I can’t wait to have you join the family.”

  7

  Nasser surveyed the school construction site with new eyes. Everything seemed to gleam, as if the work in progress had been coated with optimism. As though such a thing were possible.

  “Why are you humming so much today?” Willow sent him a suspicious smile. He hadn’t even realized he’d been humming at all. He stopped it immediately, shrugging.

  “No reason.” There was a reason, though. One he didn’t want to dwell on.

  “You’re excited to get married, aren’t you?”

  The way his belly tightened at her words signaled the truth of her jab. And it was true. Ever since she’d come to him earlier that week and said she would marry him to get the visa, something had clicked into place between them. There had been a certain tension underlying everything before. But now? Everything felt slippery smooth and natural.

  And now that they were back at the construction site, Nasser felt ready for a little extra.

  “I wouldn’t say excited,” he said. “Just glad we found a workaround for the visa.”

  Willow had a look on her face that said she didn’t entirely believe him. “Mm hmm. I’m sure the engagement party this weekend doesn’t excite you either, right?”

  Ah, there it was again. The tug on his chest. It was true that he’d often fantasized about going through the traditional proceedings with Willow at his side. Beginning the journey of husband and wife with his Willow.

  “I’m showing up for the food,” Nasser said, but he couldn’t help but send a wink her way. “That’s it.”

  “Right.” Willow tapped at her clipboard, a pretty smile lingering on her face as she assessed the foyer of the school. “Well, I think I’ve got things under control here. You don’t have to stay.”

  They had done another walk-through of the site. The workers were done for the day. But Nasser wasn’t ready to leave. “Are you sure? It seems weird that you’re going to stay out here, all alone.”

  “Well, I know where to find the campsite of forty able-bodied workmen if I need anything,” she teased. “I brought things to stay here in the school.” She paused, as if she wanted to add more, but instead said nothing and blushed.

  “And how long will you stay out here?” Nasser asked, trying to keep his interest casual. He had nothing on the docket for the next few days. He wanted to lend a hand.

  “Until the weekend. Then I’ll have a car pick me up, go back to my hotel, and get ready for our engagement party.”

  Nasser grunted. “So you’re going to live out here, in an unfinished room, for three nights while you paint the walls?”

  She nodded.

  “You’re going to freeze,” Nasser said, suddenly desperate to logically prove to her why he needed to accompany her. Even though the truly logical solution would be they stay elsewhere—probably together in a tent with the workers.

  “There’s heat,” she said.

  “You don’t even know if it works yet.”

  “Well if it doesn’t, I brought a space heater,” she said.

  “And if there’s a sandstorm?” he asked.

  “I’ll be fine in the school. There’s walls and everything now.”

  Nasser shook his head. “No, Willow. This isn’t safe. I’ll stay with you.”

  She looked taken aback, but not like she disagreed with him. “I really don’t expect you to do that, Nasser. I—”

  “It’s fine. I mean, this is my project too, right?” He tried to shrug it off, make it seem like this wasn’t exactly how he’d decided he wanted to spend his week. “I can’t have the project manager disappearing mysteriously because some sandstorm swept her away unexpectedly.”

  She snorted, swatting at his shoulder as he passed. “I’m not that useless, you know.”

  “Sure, but sandstorms respect me more than they do you,” he said. “I’m a sheikh. I have sway.”

  She barked out a laugh. “Oh, so your royal status can influence meteorological events?”
<
br />   He leaned in the doorframe, grinning over at her. The sun lit up her hair as she paused in a doorway. Looking back at him over her shoulder, she was equal parts angel and the stuff of his most erotic fantasies. He could already see her tugging that simple dress over her head and spreading her legs for him right here in the foyer.

  “If you insist on staying, that’s fine. But you’ll be helping with the handiwork,” she said, crossing her arms.

  “Fine by me. I’m handy.”

  “Good.” She lifted a brow, urging him to follow. “Then let’s get started.”

  Willow had come prepared for some serious interior designing. The storage closet off the front hallway was already stocked with paint cans and accessories, as well as brooms, mops, tape, and more.

  “This was part of the plan,” she said, “that I would cover things like painting and decorating while the workers handled the bulk of the construction. I have a very specific vision for this school.” She tugged out two cans of paint—butterscotch yellow and alabaster white, judging by the color splotches on the lids.

  The two of them got to work, wearing aprons that Willow had of course thought to pack ahead of time. Their first project was the foyer, a warm and welcoming yellow that Willow claimed would match nicely with the tiles to be installed the next day. They worked though the evening until their bellies rumbled. Nasser offered to prepare dinner from the supplies that Willow had brought so she could continue working as she wanted.

  Her determination didn’t surprise him one bit. This was the Willow he’d always known—fiery and focused. Any project she handled would be completed to perfection. And really, he admired that about her. He’d forgotten how capable and thorough she was. It made him even more excited to see this project through, so that it could become the shining star of education that it surely would under her direction.

  They ate their dinner piecemeal while painting and taping off parts of the wall. They talked and laughed on occasion, but for the most part just shared an intense focus. By the time Willow was ready to call it quits, Nasser could see she’d worked herself to exhaustion.

  “You look like you’re going to fall asleep standing up,” he said, only half joking. “Which room will we sleep in?”

  “The closest classroom,” she said with a yawn. The bedding had been dropped off in there already, and Nasser unrolled the mattress—this time at least the size of a double—and prepared the linens while Willow washed her face. She came into the classroom in her pajamas—an oversized T-shirt from their university and soft, swishy pants.

  “I didn’t pack anything,” Nasser mumbled, unable to look away from the sight of her breasts draped by the soft fabric of the shirt. Clearly she’d removed her bra—her nipples stood in two tight points beneath her shirt. “You don’t mind if I sleep in my underwear, do you?”

  “At this point, I don’t mind anything.” She yawned again, collapsing onto the bed. Nasser went to the restroom, and by the time he returned, she’d already fallen asleep.

  * * *

  The next morning, he awoke with the sunlight, around seven a.m. It wasn’t his style to start the day so early, but clarity and motivation zipped through him. He was ready to work. And he already knew where to start.

  While Willow snoozed, looking every inch the peaceful angel she was, Nasser prepared coffee, eggs, and toast in the kitchen. The smell of it must have roused Willow because she staggered into the kitchen just as he was plating the food. She rubbed at her eyes.

  “What’s this?” she asked groggily.

  “Our breakfast.” He gestured toward the plates. “Hope you’re hungry.”

  She blinked a few times, taking in the scene. “Hell, yes.”

  She slid onto one of two stools at the kitchen island. Their breakfast was quiet—forks scraping, coffee slurping—but perfect. Nasser found himself watching her as she savored the eggs.

  “You always made the best eggs,” she finally said. “Ironic because eggs aren’t a huge thing here.”

  “Well, I learned for you,” Nasser said, his heart squeezing. “Because they’re your favorite.”

  Willow sent him a private smile, one that had him tumbling headfirst back into the past. He leaned forward without thinking, brushing his lips against hers. She received the kiss as though it were the most natural thing, but once they parted the surprise showed on her face.

  “Whoa,” she said.

  “Yeah.” He swallowed hard, unable to rip his gaze off her lips. Then he dove in for another kiss, which melted into more. Willow dropped the toast she’d been holding and wrapped her arms around his neck. He pulled her into him, his body sighing with relief with the contact. He’d embraced countless women during their time apart, but nobody ever felt like this in his arms. Like he could breathe easy and the fast pace of his mind could slow down. Like he could just be here with her, somehow outside of time and space.

  The sounds of boots scuffing against the floor made them both straighten. A worker poked his head in a moment later, then quickly apologized.

  “It’s okay,” he called out in their native language. “We’re just having breakfast, we’ll be out soon.”

  “I guess it’s time to get to work,” Willow said, scooping the rest of her eggs into her mouth.

  Their unfinished kisses weighed on him. He wanted those kisses and so much more.

  “Wait.” He grabbed her wrist when she tried to take their plates to the sink. He jerked her toward him, and she giggled as he brought her into his arms again for more kisses.

  “Just to last us until lunchtime,” he whispered against her lips.

  “The kisses help productivity, do they?” she asked, nuzzling her nose against his.

  “I think I saw them in the construction plan.” Nasser pressed his tongue into her mouth, eliciting one last passionate kiss. “And I know you follow the plans.”

  Willow threw her head back and laughed, and Nasser could bury his face in her neck, relishing this small moment of perfection.

  It was times like these that he remembered just how good they’d really been together. How fun and sexy life had been at her side. How inspiring she was. How her focus and drive also affected him.

  The longer he stayed at her side, the harder it was to remember that this engagement served a strict purpose. That she wasn’t really his.

  But maybe it was okay to indulge in the fantasy for a little bit.

  Maybe for now, he’d just get lost in pretend.

  8

  Chatter filled the open gardens hugging the palace. Dusk had settled, which meant all the torches were ablaze, lining the patio and paths throughout the gardens. White tulle and white orchids and white tapestries decorated the gathering—everything white, to celebrate the newest bride, who was also dressed in white. An elegant, hip-hugging white gown made by Calla, scoop-neck and all.

  Willow felt like a true princess in the making. She still couldn’t believe this party was for her. For them. Nasser had barely left her side all night, and she was thankful for it. Calla and Vanessa had pulled out all the stops arranging this engagement party, claiming they would make it a perfect blend of traditional and Western. And they’d really pulled it off. A three-piece band played music near the steps leading up to the palace, alternating between jazz classics and traditional Amatbahn-infused numbers. The appetizers consisted of classic hummus and tabbouleh, as well as deviled eggs, Willow’s favorite.

  It was the party of the year. And if this was the engagement party, she could only imagine the wedding.

  “Do you need more wine?” Nasser murmured into her ear. The rough sound of his voice sent lust and love spiraling through her in equal measure. If she’d had a hard time keeping her head above ground before agreeing to this marriage of convenience, now it was basically impossible.

  Because for all intents and purposes, she and Nasser had returned to their coupledom. Acting like the past two years weren’t even a thing, and the breakup to end all breakups had been a bad dream.
<
br />   “Mmm, yes.” She drained her glass and passed it off so he could snag a refill. She’d been sipping at the world’s tastiest and most perfectly chilled Sauvignon Blanc, another white detail overseen by Calla and Vanessa. Whenever she locked eyes with her sisters-in-law-to-be, she got a huge grin and a cute wave.

  No, this arrangement wasn’t all bad. And besides, it just felt natural. She hugged herself, waiting for Nasser to return. They’d been chatting and laughing and fielding questions all evening, and now she was ready to relax with him somewhere private. Because naturally, that’s where the night would take them. Back to his bedroom.

  Not because they needed to keep up appearances. Because they wanted it to go there.

  At this point, she could admit it to herself. She was along for the ride because she wanted to be here. Because she loved Nasser—she’d never stopped loving him. That didn’t mean she knew what the future held for them, but for now? She wanted to taste the kisses and caresses she’d been missing for the past two-plus years.

  Even if it came on the heels of a slightly forced engagement.

  “So…I want to hear some stories!” The new voice surprised Willow, and she whipped around to find one of the tribal wives smiling at her. “Tell me about when you two first met.”

  “Ah, Ursi.” Nasser rejoined her, handing Willow a fresh glass of wine. “You really want to hear this story?”

  “Of course. I can see how in love you two are.” Her grin widened. “So I know this story must be good.”

  “It’s not as fantastical as you might think,” Willow said, glancing over at Nasser. “It’s actually kind of…boring.”

  “Boring?” Nasser feigned insult. “Nonprofit Management 101 was not boring.”

  Willow giggled and swatted his shoulder.

  “Ah, so it was at school, then? A university romance.” Ursi winked.

  “We studied hard but studied each other harder,” Nasser said, slinging his arms around Willow’s shoulders. “Surprisingly, we graduated.”