The Sheiks of the Arabian Coast Series: 5 Book Box Set

by Erin Snihur

  “Hello, angel,” Malik crooned from his spot on the balcony.

  Clenching her fists so tight she feared her red nails would break the skin, Samara glared at her husband, equally angry at Amoz for sending her out here. “What are you doing here, Malik?”

  “I thought you deserved to receive this face to face,” Malik murmured and dropped his cigar into the ash bowl before pulling out an envelope from his pocket.

  Holding the envelope out to her, Malik smiled, though she could see that the smile didn’t reach his eyes, “You look beautiful, by the way.”

  “Thank you,” Samara murmured and grasped the envelope tightly, curious about what else Malik could be up to. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

  Ripping open the envelope, Samara pulled out the first piece of paper, it was a letter of acceptance for Samara’s dream job in England, as well as a first class ticket and a cheque in the amount of her trust fund her grandfather had taken away. In shock, Samara stared up at Malik in question before he nodded back toward the envelope.

  “There’s more,” Malik murmured.

  Digging into the envelope, Samara pulled out the last few pieces of papers and briefly scanned them, freezing on the word, divorce. It was a divorce application. Already signed by Malik and just awaiting her signature.

  Gasping at the sight of it, Samara dropped the other documents and peered closer to the application, reading the terms. Malik himself took full responsibility for the divorce and was willing to transfer any fee to see it done.

  Dropping her hands, Samara stared up at Malik, her heart breaking all over again, “I don’t understand.”

  “Those are divorce papers, Samara. Once signed, you’ll be free. Free to go off to England and work if you choose, or even travel the world, like you’ve always wanted to. I know you’ve never seen real snow before, well, here’s your chance,” Malik crooned.

  “Is this because you love Chantal?” Samara whispered harshly, her mind reeling and finding herself grasping at straws.

  Shaking his head, Malik leveled her with a serious look. “No, there has never been and will never be another woman for me, after you, Samara. I never cheated on you with that woman. She flung herself at me the moment she heard you knock on the door. I was in the middle of explaining to her that I never wanted her in Batra again and especially after I’d heard she’d been spreading awful rumors about you.”

  Samara grimaced, she’d heard those rumors. Her maid, Caliyah, had told her some of them. They were childish and Samara had just ignored them. Hoping to prove the gossipers wrong.

  “You didn’t sleep with Chantal?” Samara asked, shocked.

  “A long time ago. Years ago, in fact. We went to a few parties together when she had her first big break. It was nothing more than a fling, but then I was crowned Sheik and she became insistent that we get back together. I didn’t see her after that and I especially didn’t see her before we were married or after. I could never hurt you like that, Samara. I would die first,” Malik crooned and took a step closer, hitting the papers she held between them.

  “Why do you want the divorce then?” Samara asked, her voice high and squeaky.

  “Hamda told me after our first night together that you wanted to become a princess. He said if I wanted access to his companies, I had to marry you. I didn’t find out until after you disappeared that that wasn’t true. I also figured out it had been Hamda you were protecting. You could have told me he was hurting you, angel. I would have done more than bruise his jaw,” Malik growled that last part and stretched his fist. Samara gasped at the sight of fading bruises on his fist and dropped the divorce papers to examine his big, strong hand.

  “You are an idiot, what if he had hit you back?” Samara cried out as she softly caressed the bruises.

  “He would have been thrown in prison for assaulting Batra’s Sheik. I did him a favor. Instead of being thrown in prison for abusing my wife and my trust, I exiled him from Batra and ensured he will never bother you again,” Malik hushed her and cupped her face in his hands. “You are free, angel”

  “But those companies, Malik. Doesn’t Batra need them?” Samara asked, recalling the contracts she’d seen in her grandfather’s briefcase. They were worth a lot of money and would bring Batra much fortune.

  “Batra will be fine,” Malik murmured. “I am only concerned about you, Samara. You deserve this freedom.”

  Staring down at her feet where the divorce papers lay, Samara’s mind danced about weighing her options. She could sign them and be free. Free of men who wished to control her. She would lose the man she dearly loved. Tears filling her eyes, Samara bit back a loud sob as she tried to reign in her emotions.

  “Why are you doing this, Malik?” Samara muttered through her sobs.

  “Because I love you, Samara. I only want what’s best for you,” Malik crooned and, when she met his gaze and saw the love shining there, Samara knew he was telling the truth. The love she so often saw in her parents’ eyes was there for her through Malik’s.

  Not letting him speak once more, Samara threw her arms around his neck, startling him with her lips planting firmly on his. Drawing a moan out of her mouth, Samara pulled herself closer, not caring if her dress or hair ruined when Malik’s hands wormed their way around her waist.

  Forcing their kiss to halt and staring into her eyes, Malik’s eyes twinkled back at her and his face morphed into a happy grin. “Do you have something you wish to tell me, angel?”

  Purring like a cat in heat, Samara grasped Malik by the tie and pulled him back in for a kiss as she whispered against his lips, “I love you, Malik.”

  Epilogue

  Sheik Amoz el-Safar of Elish watched from the upper balcony as his friend, Malik, embraced his wife, Samara, once more and the happy couple disappeared into the darkness to do what happy couples do. Finishing the last of his brandy, Amoz moved his gaze back over to the beauty of Aman. He missed Elish. He missed the sea breeze. Not that he didn’t enjoy watching two of his best friends fall in love before his eyes, but Amoz longed for that feeling as well. The feeling of completion and to have one who genuinely cared about you and your feelings, who was tied to you in the most primitive of ways.

  Marriage.

  A hand slapping on his back was the only warning his other friend, Tariq, gave him before Tariq’s booming, laughing voice was all Amoz heard.

  “This party is a bust. There are more match-making mamas here than I’ve ever seen. I think Khalid is trying to get the rest of us to walk down the aisle like him and Malik,” Tariq murmured before downing the rest of his drink and clinking the empty glass against Amoz’ empty glass.

  “To us. To our freedom,” Tariq cheered and leaned against the railing of the balcony.

  “What are your plans for tomorrow?” Tariq finally asked when Amoz didn’t respond to his silly cheer.

  Scanning the desert awash with the night sky, Amoz sighed and turned to look over Tariq’s shoulder toward where he knew the sea lay.

  “I’m going back to Elish. To the resort,” Amoz murmured and, at his friend’s interested look, grinned, “Would you like to join me?”

  “Will there be beautiful, single women there that are only interested in a brief liaison?” Tariq asked teasingly.

  “I have no idea. I will be relaxing by the pool, so you’ll have to find out for yourself,” Amoz grumbled under his breath and opened his phone to text his plans to his advisor, Palo.

  “One of these days, a woman’s going to come along and slap that monkish attitude right out of you Amoz, just you wait,” Tariq called out as his friend moved in the direction of the party before stopping. “Aren’t you coming?”

  Sending one last glance toward the direction of the sea, Amoz forced a smile on his face for his friend and followed along into the crush of excited and wedding obsessed debutantes. Perhaps one of these women would make a good wife, Amoz absently thought as he followed Tariq.

  If only Amoz knew that destiny had other plans
...

  The Sheik’s Pregnant Paramour

  Tormented by the nightmares of her ex-husband, Teresa Evans agrees to the trip of a lifetime with her sister, Samantha, in the beautiful Arabian country of Elish.

  Who knew spending a few weeks on a beautiful resort in the company of a mysterious and handsome stranger could form life alternating events? When the stranger reappears in Teresa’s life and demands she and her unborn child return to Elish with him, will Teresa find it in herself to love again?

  Sheik Amoz el-Safar was completely besotted by the beautiful American woman he met while relaxing at his beautiful resort along the Arabian Coast. When the real world comes crashing down around him and he discovers the beautiful woman he thought he knew was a liar, will Amoz put his pride aside and do what is right for his unborn child?

  1

  Even though the air and the sun beating down on her bikini clad skin told her it was summer in the tropical, Arabian country of Elish, Teresa Evans still couldn’t relinquish the icy feeling in her bones. As if experiencing a cool gust of wind instead of a warm breeze, Teresa felt her body shiver and her skin goosebumps in response. Running her hands over her arms to soften the bumps, Teresa scanned the bustling pool area. Elish’s premier resort, the Royal, was busy and bustling with guests, maids and waiters delivering drinks to and from the bar set aside from the pool.

  A tanned body pulled herself out of the pool right before Teresa, jarring her from her people watching and met Teresa’s matching green eyes with a twinkling laugh.

  “Come in the water, Teresa. You’ll feel better once you’ve been in. It’s so warm,” Teresa’s older sister and self-appointed chaperon, Samantha, called out from where she sat at the pool’s edge.

  Not wanting to hear her sister complain once more about how she’d been a bit of a party-pooper since they’d arrived in Elish a few days ago, Teresa stood. Shedding her wrap, Teresa checked to make sure her bikini was in place before she sat next to her sister at the side of the pool, carefully easing her feet into the bath like water.

  “There. Doesn’t the water feel amazing? I was doing laps and found the pool side bar around the corner. Let’s go swim and get some drinks,” Samantha gleefully grinned, “There are some cute guys over there too that are sure to cheer you up.

  Teresa forced a smile on her face and nodded along as her sister slipped into the water and promptly swam off in the direction of bar. Looking over her shoulder, Teresa grimaced at her unfinished sudoku book sitting atop her chair and beach towel. She hoped no one would steal it while they were gone. It was the only one Samantha had allowed her to bring on the trip.

  As Teresa scanned the area to see if anyone would notice as they left their beach towels, clothes and books at their tables, Teresa saw him.

  The one word she could describe him as was...lust. He couldn’t possibly be looking at her, could he? The man was sitting underneath an umbrella a few seats away and wore reflective sunglasses. He had a magazine in his hands and Teresa was unsure if he was actually reading it. Feeling his eyes on her, Teresa turned away and felt her face warm at the thought of him looking at her. What would he even see?

  Disgusting cow. Cruel, cold bitch. Can’t even do the one thing a woman is supposed to do. Defective.

  Her ex-husband’s words came crashing back to Teresa like a wave that left her gasping for air and shivering in the heat. Fighting back the tears, Teresa quickly darted a gaze over her shoulder once more. The man no longer seemed to be looking at her and instead was speaking to a waiter who had arrived with his drink. Sighing in relief, Teresa bit her lip as she scanned him unnoticed from his gruff looking scruff of hair around his mouth and chin to his perfectly shaped lips.

  His loose buttoned up short sleeved dress shirt was open a bit, revealing a bit of dark hair on his hard chest. He wore dark swim trunks, but other than that he appeared relatively normal. Why was it that this man gave off such a dangerous and intimidating aura around Teresa?

  “Teresa! Come on!” Samantha’s voice called out from across the pool and Teresa jumped, turning away from her creeping session.

  Blushing bright red, Teresa dove into the water and quickly followed after her sister, praying his unseen eyes weren’t truly following her as she had thought they had been.

  Sheik Amoz el-Safar watched the young woman follow after her friend in the pool. He couldn’t help but watch her. He’d found it amusing to watch her, watching him. Amoz knew she had no idea he knew, but he enjoyed her perusal nevertheless.

  Amoz had been watching her for some time since he’d arrived to the pool later in the morning. At first, he’d only briefly glanced her way when she and her friend had arrived and settled into their lounge chairs.

  Americans, Amoz guessed from their accents and belongings.

  While her friend was beautiful in her own right, Amoz felt himself watching the woman who lingered in her lounging chair with a book. Like him, the woman seemed content to people watch while her friend dove into the warm pool and swam about, catching the eye of a few of the resort guests.

  Nodding to the waiter who refilled his mimosa glass, Amoz watched the object of his hardening desire swim the length of the pool before arriving next to her friend by the poolside bar. Her friend seemed interested and excited by all the male attention they were receiving while Amoz’ interest shied away from the male attention and took to staring at her new drink in her hand.

  Amoz snorted in confusion. He’d never met a woman who didn’t enjoy the attention of a man. Especially not him. When the woman had met his gaze, she’d seemed almost afraid. As if Amoz had harmed her in some way just by paying her attention. Though he was certain his sunglasses hid the direction of his gaze, he hadn’t been able to stop watching her.

  The strange woman’s hair was a reddish-brown color. Underneath her umbrella, Amoz had been certain it was chocolate brown; but as she stepped out from underneath the cool shade, her hair had taken on a reddish hue. Amoz ached to run his fingers through the braided tendrils that were swept back from her face. Although he couldn’t see her eyes, Amoz knew they would be beautiful. Her skin appeared soft, a bit on the pale side, but a few days in his country’s sun would fix that.

  When the woman stood at the urging of her friend to join her in the pool, Amoz had almost lost it right there. She’d discarded her bathing suit wrap and revealed to the entire area the delicious body she hid from the world. Her black bikini bottoms were high waisted and showed her trim, curvy waist. Her plump breasts jutted out of her striped bikini top and threatened to spill over. Amoz could practically taste the succulent flesh in his mouth. His cock grew harder at the sight of her near nakedness and he’d had to cover his growing erection with his business magazine to keep from embarrassing himself.

  Amoz enjoyed life, there was no doubt about that; but here, at the Royal, his sacred place, he’d never gotten such a reaction from his body over one woman. Being the ruling Sheik of a prospering country had some benefits. Riches, power and women. Not always in that order. Lately, those benefits had left a sour taste in Amoz’ mouth and thus he was called “Monk Amoz” by only his closest of friends.

  A tall shadow approached from behind and Amoz had to still himself from moving with snake-like speed when his eyes took in his advisor, Palo. The older man stood over Amoz with a critical eye of disgust at the sight of the half naked men and women frolicking in the pool and surrounding area. Men and women drank their fill and some even danced to the thumping music that could be heard in the overhead speakers.

  “Yes, Palo? Coming to join me for a swim?” Amoz asked his stoic advisor with a teasing grin.

  “Hardly, your Highness. I came to inform you that the Prime Minister of England is waiting for your conference call,” Palo murmured, clasping his hands behind his back.

  Sighing, Amoz turned his gaze back on the only beautiful woman he cared about viewing this afternoon. She was slowly wading through the water back to the edge of the pool with her friend. Both women held
their drinks and were giggling together.

  “Fine, Palo. Just this once, we shall abide by your schedule,” Amoz muttered sarcastically and grabbed his stuff, standing straight as he towered over the man.

  Sending one last look over the pool area to his mystery woman, she seemed to meet his eyes in that exact moment. Grinning from ear to ear, Amoz lifted his chin slightly, earning a bright blush from the woman and a heated word from her friend who pulled the blushing woman aside.

  I shall see you again, beauty. Very soon.

  2

  “That guy was totally checking you out. I bet he saw us checking in! There were so many cute guys hanging around the lobby when we checked in. What’s his name?” Samantha asked for what seemed like the fifth time since this morning’s pool adventure.

  Like a dog with a bone, Samantha would not give up in her quest for more information about the man who’d nodded to Teresa. Sighing, Teresa stopped before a lovely flowery bush and tentatively traced the petals of the beautiful flower.

  As she stooped to take a picture with her small camera of the flowers for their mother back home, Teresa muttered in frustration, “I already told you, I have no idea who he is. For all we know, he wasn't even looking at me. He was wearing those funny sunglasses that cops wear back home. Makes it impossible to see their eyes.”

  Samantha laughed, gaining Teresa’s attention away from the flowers, “So you did notice him? I thought you said earlier you hadn’t noticed anything about him?”