The Sheikh’s American Fiancée: Desert Sheikhs Book Three

by North, Leslie

  Christina blinked a few times. It was hard to see past the fog of heartbreak and sadness.

  “Hope might still have a donor,” Alexis went on. “We’re looking into it now.”

  Christina stared at Alexis and Zatar for a few moments as the news sank in. And then she crumbled into Alexis’s arms, letting forth all the tears that had been building up inside her for the past year.

  16

  Christina took a deep breath as she pulled up Kasha’s contact information on her phone. This was it—the big reveal. The singular moment that would totally and irrevocably change Kasha’s life.

  She hated having to deliver this news from so far away, but there was no other option now.

  Christina had news. Big news.

  Zatar’s sister, Princess Salari, was a blood-type match for Hope. Her niece might have a donor after all. And surely this good news would overshadow any of the hurt or confusion Kasha felt about being lied to while her sister secretly skulked off to the Middle East.

  Christina shook her head, the comparison coming to her for the hundredth time. Was she any better than Dakaric? He’d opted not to tell her about Sabrina until he knew more. Hadn’t she done the same to her sister?

  It didn’t matter. Dakaric was hopelessly enmeshed in his own web of self-serving advisors, and he had a country to run. There was no room for Christina. Tirsa made that plain, and Dakaric seemed to agree.

  The man hadn’t called her once in the two days since she’d returned to Kattahar. And if any of the grand romances had anything to say about it, he needed to be calling her nonstop from the second she left Al Qalb.

  But nothing. Radio silence. It grated on her, more than she wanted to admit. But it just served as a sign that she wasn’t fit for life-changing romance.

  Apparently her life was just fine the way it was back home. And she’d be returning there soon. That evening, she had a flight to America.

  Christina pressed her sister’s number before she could delay any longer. The phone rang, the connection crackly and distant. Kasha picked up on the third ring.

  “Sis?” Her sister’s voice was always calming.

  “Hey, Kasha. Do you have time to talk? I have some news. Like, big news.”

  “What, you’ve retrieved all the formerly banned books and have made a reading list out of them?”

  Christina snorted. “No. But that’s an admirable goal.”

  “Then what?”

  “Okay, so I have like three really major things to tell you, and they’re pretty big, so are you sitting down?”

  Kasha paused. “Okay. I’m sitting down. Sis, I don’t like where this is going.”

  Christina pinched her eyes shut, giving herself a mental push to just say it already. “Well first of all, I never went to a library convention.”

  There was an eerie silence on the other end of the line. “So where are you?”

  Christina swallowed. “The Middle East. Uh, Kattahar, to be exact.”

  Kasha was quiet.

  “The reason I’m here is another big thing. I found some letters in the attic when we were cleaning up there a couple weeks ago. One of the letters made reference to the fact that you might, uh…” She squeezed her hands into fists, grimacing. “You might be adopted.”

  “What?”

  Christina rubbed her forehead. “There were letters from a woman named Sabrina. All sent from Kattahar. I saw them and I…I thought maybe I could find a living relative of yours. For Hope. To save her.”

  Kasha let out a small noise. Probably the disbelief seeping out of her.

  “It was just on a whim. I don’t know. I’ve felt so desperate, you know? Anyway, I got here, and I…” Fell in love, whispered the voice in her head. “I was able to track some things down. Do you need me to pause? Do you need processing time?”

  “I need more time than what you can give me,” Kasha said.

  Christina nibbled on her bottom lip. “Okay. So, last big thing. I tracked some things down. Your birth mother is dead. But guess what? Hope has a potential donor.”

  The stunned silence seemed to stretch for miles.

  And then Kasha was crying.

  The rest of the call went so fast. Kasha made Christina confirm thirteen times that Hope really had a donor. And then that a king and a princess really were her half-siblings. And then a promise that Christina was immediately flying back home.

  By the time she hung up, Alexis and Zatar were beaming from the doorway.

  “Salari plans to fly to the USA as soon as possible to meet Kasha and Hope and start the complete evaluation process,” Zatar said. His chocolate eyes were so warm. They reminded her of another pair of dark eyes that she liked even more. Christina sighed, tossing her phone on the bed.

  “Thank you so much for all your help,” Christina said, looking up at the couple. They were so good together and somehow made the cross-cultural relationship work. It almost gave her hope for her and Dakaric—except he didn’t really care about her, and they had no relationship to begin with. Sadness tugged at her. “I’m almost sad to be going home. I’ve really had a good time here.”

  “Maybe I can give you one last gift,” Zatar said. “Let me fly you home in my jet. You’ll have only the highest level of comfort, and you’ll be home quicker than expected.”

  She arched a brow. “Are you serious?”

  “It would be my pleasure.”

  Christina nodded, shrugging. “That sounds amazing. I really appreciate all your generosity.”

  The couple left her to get her things packed up, and she took her time, taking stock of her final moments in Kattahar. She’d had a great time in both Kattahar and Al Qalb, if she overlooked the enormous social flub at the gala and the breakup in the middle of the desert.

  Returning to the States would be best. She frowned as she folded a few pairs of underwear. Her home was waiting for her, but did her home even need her?

  Hope had a donor; her sister’s pregnancy was healthy; Kasha’s husband was wonderful and supportive. What did they really need from her anymore? Once their parents’ house was sold, that would be it.

  Christina’s mind drifted back to the village in Al Qalb. That had been the first time she’d ever felt truly useful. Working with Dakaric from sunup to sundown; participating in a rustic, more basic version of life. Effecting real change. That was a feeling she wanted to prolong.

  And beyond that, she’d been happy at Dakaric’s side. Her frown turned into a scowl. Part of her had been eager to start a life with him. A hope that she now recognized as terribly foolish.

  Real life didn’t work like that. You couldn’t just meet a man and become his queen two weeks later.

  By the time Christina was packed up and ready to go, emotions clawed at her. She didn’t want to leave, not really. She hugged Alexis and Zatar extra tightly at the airport and boarded his private jet with melancholy.

  The sun was just beginning its evening descent when the plane took off. The world stretched golden and hazy beneath the plane.

  Goodbye, Kattahar. Hello, USA.

  Her sadness was put on hold as the plane began to descend. Less than an hour later, and it was already getting ready for landing? This wasn’t right. It wasn’t a supersonic jet. They hadn’t entered a wormhole.

  Christina recognized the land as the plane neared a runway. She’d been here earlier in the week. Realization began prickling through her. She gripped the armrests as the plane touched down with a slight thump.

  When the door opened and the staircase was rolled out, a man waited for her on the tarmac, holding a bouquet of flowers.

  Deep umber eyes, caramel skin that she’d run her fingers over just a few nights before.

  Dakaric.

  17

  Dakaric wet his bottom lip as he watched Christina approach carefully. In the waning rays of light, she looked like a goddess descending from the heavens. The air from the jet engine whipped her hair around. She squinted up at him.

  “Christina.�
��

  Her name was the code to unlock him, to unlock everything. He rushed toward her, scooping her up into his arms. The tissue paper around the bouquet crinkled as he hugged her tight.

  She wrapped her arms around him tentatively. “You hijacked my plane?”

  He smiled into her hair. “Sort of. I know a guy.”

  She laughed a little, pulling back to look at him. “Listen, I’m still mad at you.”

  “Are you?” He couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his face. “Because it doesn’t look like it.”

  She tried to keep her mouth a straight line but failed. “You have shitty employees. And on top of that, you tell them important things about me before telling me.”

  “I never told Tirsa anything—she just eavesdropped.” He tightened his grip around her waist. “And I fired her.”

  Christina’s face softened, but then her lips grew thin again. “And you didn’t call me once while I was in Kattahar.”

  “I didn’t call you because I was busy,” he said, leading her toward the waiting car. The sun sank bloated and red toward the horizon.

  She scoffed. “Oh yeah? With what?”

  “With restoring my country. And preparing a little surprise for you.”

  Interest sparked in her gaze. He brought the back of her hand to his lips. “I don’t want to say anything more. I just want you to see.”

  From the moment she’d left Al Qalb, his plan had become clear. Not only for firing Tirsa and the rest of the cabinet, which he should have done eons ago, but for the direction his life was taking.

  Christina had illuminated more in his life than he had bargained for. She’d come in as a pretend fiancée, and she’d left with the key to his heart.

  He’d worked tirelessly since her departure to prepare this surprise. If Al Qalb was truly his home, he needed to make it so. And if Al Qalb was going to be a place that she’d be spending her time as well, he needed her to feel truly at home.

  Dakaric pressed kisses to the back of her hand for the duration of the short car ride to the palace. Her eyes rounded as they pulled up. He’d lit up the palace and all its walkways with sconce lights and candles. The whole place glittered with renewed vitality. He’d hired crews to come clean up the gardens and shake out all the rugs. He led her into the palace slowly, letting her take in the new sights.

  “This place was a little dingy,” he said in a soft voice, their steps echoing through the wide hall. “Bringing you here made me realize. It isn’t mine. Not yet, anyway.”

  She craned her neck to look around, seemingly taking in everything for the first time. “It was so different from your beautiful inn in Kattahar. But this is really different from before.”

  “Did you know,” Dakaric went on, “that when I moved from Kattahar to Al Qalb, I thought that I had left my heart behind?” He guided her toward the back of the palace, where his big surprise awaited. “The ironic part is that Al Qalb means heart in Arabic. But I never thought this place could be home. Until I met you.”

  Christina’s steps slowed as they reached an arched doorway lined with inlaid stones. Through the doorway, Dakaric’s surprise was visible. A fully restored library, bursting with books and reading nooks and chaises longues. He led her inside, gesturing around them.

  “I realized that you are my heart,” he said softly as he came up behind her, sliding his hands over her hips. She gasped softly, her gaze careening around the room. “I want this to be my home. I want you to be my home. Home is where you make it, and without you, Al Qalb will be without its heart.”

  She shook slightly, her hands covering her mouth. He pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, then spun her around to face him.

  “Christina,” he began.

  “Yes?” She laughed a little, wiping away a spilt tear.

  “I know this is a big idea,” he said, running his thumb over the skin where her tear had fallen. “But you have changed my life in a big way. Stay here with me. We can work together and run this country. And when you’re ready, I want to make you my queen.” He searched out her gaze, finding those slate-violet eyes hazy with tears. “For real this time. Not just for the pictures.”

  She shuddered with a sob and threw her arms around him. She wept into his chest for a moment then tilted her head back to look at him.

  “This is crazy,” she whispered.

  “I know.”

  “Then yes,” she said, a smile overtaking her face. “I’ve felt at home here since the moment I came. But more than that, I just want to be with you.” She laughed through the tears, that joyful smile lighting him up in a way he hadn’t known was possible. “I’ll be your queen if you’ll be my husband.”

  “And I’ll be your husband if you’ll be my heart.”

  Christina shuddered with another laugh, more tears spilling from her eyes, and she pressed her lips to his in a kiss that sealed their future.

  End of The Sheikh’s American Fiancée

  Desert Sheikhs Book Three

  PS: Do you love playboy billionaires? Then keep reading for an exclusive extract from The Sheikh's Tempting Assistant.

  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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  About Leslie

  Leslie North is the USA Today Bestselling pen name for a critically-acclaimed author of women's contemporary romance and fiction. The anonymity gives her the perfect opportunity to paint with her full artistic palette, especially in the romance and erotic fantasy genres.

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  BLURB

  Laura Bliss is an assistant location scout with no sense of direction—which is how she got stuck with a faulty GPS and the job of scouting sand dunes rather than the oasis her boss is currently viewing. With the sun going down and Laura seriously worrying for her life, she stumbles across a tent that looks more like a palace than a campsite. Dehydrated and burnt, it seems like salvation—until men wearing desert garb and toting AK47’s ride out in jeeps to gather her.

  Sheikh Raheem can barely believe his luck when an American woman is brought into his tent. He is passionate about his country’s natural splendor, but its PR is in desperate need of a makeover—perhaps as much as the dirty beauty in front of him. He makes an offer: Laura, with her eye for finding the beauty in a location, will help him craft a campaign promoting his country, and when she completes the project he’ll send her back to America with a paycheck she can live on for years. Seeing a chance for financial freedom, Laura jumps at the opportunity.

  As Raheem shows off the magnificence of his land, Laura finds herself getting swept into a fairy tale full of palaces, five-star luxury, and the most sensuous sex she’s ever experienced. Though she values her independence, the temptation to stay—not just for Raheem, but for the beautiful country that isn’t getting the attention it deserves—holds her in place. But when the country’s natural treasures are threatened, Raheem and Laura must decide what means more to them: their love for one another or their original plans.

  Grab your copy of The Sheikh’s Tempting Assistant

  (Sheikh’s Meddling Sisters Book One) from

  www.LeslieNorthBooks.com

  * * *

  SNEAK PEEK

  CHAPTER 1

  “What I need is a ringer,” Sheikh Raheem bin Haik al Nazari said, reclining back on his chaise lounge in the middle of the desert of his small country, Djeva. Twilight had settled over the landscape, bathing everything in soft shades of deepening purples and blues. Quite lovely. He took a deep breath of fresh air a
nd closed his eyes, seeking a bit of the relaxation that had been so elusive on this trip.

  “A ring? Did I hear that right?” his eldest sister Jessenia said, undisguised interest edging her tone. After the death of their father earlier in the year, Jess had taken it upon herself to assume the role that up until then had been the sole province of their beloved mother—boss of everyone and everything. “Don’t tell me you’ve finally decided to settle down and start a family after all my months of prodding.”

  Raheem sighed and shook his head. “No. That’s not what I said. And you know as well as I do that marriage is not even on my radar right now. I’ve got too many other projects to work on at the moment. I said I need a ‘ringer’, not a ring. Someone with no skin in the game to help me strategize.”

  ‘The game’ was his grand scheme to use his country’s ever-growing wealth from tourism to fund a much-needed wildlife preserve. There were several species of cats, camels, and birds that could only be found here in Djeva. He felt it was his duty and calling to ensure their survival for generations to come.

  “Bah.” Jess gave a dismissive wave of her hand, her white silk robes blowing softly in the breeze. Honestly, she even looked like their mother Zuhra—dark hair and eyes, smooth golden skin, short and slightly more rounded than his other sisters. And dedicated to trying to run the lives of her six siblings. “You spend too much time working and too little time playing, brother. What you need is to find the right woman to show you how wonderful love can be. You’ve always been far too competitive for your own good, Raheem.”

  That last sentence was probably true, he admitted to himself. Even if the rest was hogwash. Of course, being the youngest of three sons did that to a man. From the day he’d become aware of his family’s rank and importance, Raheem had felt like he was playing catch-up. Catching up to his father, who had been a good father, but not such a great leader, made the task of Raheem and the rest of his family that much harder. Their goal now was to run the country with fairness, honesty, and a relentless drive to make Djeva the international finance and commerce center of their small area of the Arab region. Too bad their father hadn’t given the running of his country the same level of time and consideration. He’d passed away the previous year and left the country in the hands of Raheem and his two older brothers.