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

by Erin Snihur

  Mouth opening at his words, Teresa struggled to sit up in the bed and, when Amoz strode forward to help her and plump the pillows at her back, Teresa’s anger waned. He’d always seemed to come rushing to her aid. Even in Elish.

  Blushing as she recalled their last few, pleasurable moments along the Arabian Coast, Teresa shook herself inwardly and forced herself to focus on the task at hand.

  “I was going to tell you, but I didn’t know if it would matter. You were so sure that our little fling would be well and truly over before I left for the States,” Teresa explained simply, hands wringing. “Then Gerry showed up to bring us home.”

  Amoz snorted and rolled his eyes at the mention of her ex-husband. “Yes, I know. I met him in the lobby of the resort. He was adamant to speak with you and claimed you were still married. He still wore his ring, Teresa!”

  Shaking her head with tears welling up in her eyes, Teresa blubbered out. “We hadn’t been together in over a year. I never lied to you about what he did to me, Amoz, I swear it!

  Silence ensued through the room and, when Amoz collapsed into the chair the doctor had abandoned in front of the ultrasound screen, she spoke again, “I needed to get home to be with my mother. She had a car accident and was in a coma. When she woke up, well, things got worse. Her memory isn’t the greatest and she needs care 24/7. Gerry was trying to insert himself back into my life and then I found out about the baby.”

  “He will not raise my child, Teresa,” Amoz growled out.

  Glaring back at him when he met her gaze, Teresa stuck up her chin. “Neither will you, if you don’t listen to me.”

  At his silence, Teresa continued, “I told him our marriage was over. I filed the divorce paperwork immediately and we’ve been officially divorced for some time now. I think he might have moved back to the East Coast. I’ve been looking after my mother since then. I did want to call you, Amoz. I was too embarrassed and didn’t want you to hate me.”

  Sighing, Amoz leaned forward in the chair and clasped her hands, halting their nervous twitching. Staring into her eyes with his pale brown ones, Amoz smiled softly. “I could never hate you, ya helo. I…well, I was going to tell you the night you left Elish, but obviously I couldn’t, because you left, but I love you.”

  Teresa felt as though her breath had been caught in her throat and she released a harsh exhale in shock.

  “What?”

  Nodding, Amoz pulled her hands up to his mouth and kissed them softly. “Ask Tariq. I’ve been a depressed lump to be around since you left me. If it wasn’t for Malik and Samara inviting me on this trip, I’d probably still be back in Elish brooding over pictures I’d taken of us.”

  Blushing as she recalled the happy memories she’d had of the trip, Teresa stuttered out the words she thought she’d never say, “I love you too, Amoz. I didn’t think I was capable of feeling this way again and I was so scared to even think these thoughts, but I do. I’m sorry for not telling you about the baby sooner.”

  Caressing her bump with his free hand, Amoz grinned up at her. “My turn to reveal a secret.”

  Recalling the strange behavior of the nurse and doctor, Teresa cocked her head, “Are you royalty?”

  Nodding slightly, Amoz sighed and groaned softly. “I’m kind of, sort of, the Sheik of Elish.”

  Epilogue

  Three months later...

  “Are you sure my mother is settling in okay? Don’t you think we should go help her unpack?” Teresa called out from her seat as she soothed her fluttering stomach.

  Amoz had just entered the extravagant room and was now filling two glasses. One with punch for Teresa and one with something stronger for him. The evening sun had just begun to set over Elish’s capital city and, through the arched windows, Teresa was sure there could not be a more beautiful sight.

  Amoz chuckled softly. “You need to relax, Teresa. She is quite happy with all the attention Palo is laying at her feet. It seems they’ve gotten along quite well. For a man who appeared so strict to me as a child and even now, he becomes putty in your mother's presence.”

  Teresa smiled and graciously accepted the glass of punch as she leaned back in the plush throne chair Amoz had ordered made especially for her. Her swollen feet were raised on the equally plush foot stool and she’d never felt more comfortable. Even the slight twinges of pain that seemed to appear every few minutes had dwindled.

  Scanning the now empty throne room, Teresa, out of habit and not used to the feeling of the petit crown and covering on her head, sheepishly sent Amoz a sideways look.

  “Today was so strange,” Teresa commented as she took a sip from her punch and tried to control the wince of another kick from their son’s feet against her small stomach.

  “You attended our two-week wedding celebration from sun up to sun down at seven months pregnant and you thought the first day attending to court was strange?” Amoz amusedly crooned at her from his own, much larger throne.

  Giggling, Teresa blushed and took her new husband's hand. “My handsome Sheik, I think you’ve shocked your entire court by having your very pregnant Sheikha attend today and participate. I prayed that none of the men who attended today had a heart attack at the sight of my arrival.”

  Amoz grinned and winked down at her. “You had some marvelous ideas regarding tourism and the education plans in place. Those old bastards of my court could learn a thing or two.”

  Before she could respond, Teresa let out a harsh gasp and doubled over her stomach in pain. Instantly, Amoz was up on his feet and forcing Teresa to look into his eyes. Biting her lip to keep from moaning out, Teresa breathed deeply through her nose before the pain subsided.

  “Teresa?” Amoz asked her name, his voice deeper than before.

  “It was nothing, just a small contraction,” Teresa’s words garbled as she struggled to stand up and out of the throne. “I think a walk will help.”

  As she struggled to stand and, with Amoz’ assistance, cried out when she felt an inner pop and warm fluid fell down her legs, some even splattering on the mosaic tiled floors.

  Blushing in embarrassment, Teresa turned her gaze up to a now pale Amoz and grinning sheepishly asked, “Are you ready for your paramour to give you a son, my Sheik?”

  The Sheik’s Forgotten Princess

  After the loss of his entire family, newly crowned Sheik Kasin Almasi of Masarat, did the one thing that his advisors claimed would bring peace to a battle torn Arabian country. He married a princess.

  Princess Amira Antar of the rich and mysterious Arabian country of Quatar never dreamed of being married to her childhood crush. But as she walks the wedding aisle, Amira soon realizes the boy she knew as a child, has been replaced with a shell of a man, so consumed with the shadows of his past that he abandons Amira in a mountain palace for FIVE YEARS.

  Fast forward five years later and Sheik Kasin has begun to realize that now that his country is secure he should think about his future. His future, with Amira.

  Can the forgotten Princess and overprotective Sheik, who guards his heart like a prized jewel, make their marriage work? Or will the shadows of the past that claw around the couple, finally win.

  Prologue

  Sheik Kasin Almasi of the Arabian country of Masarat, scanned his kingdom from the highest tower of his newly restored palace. Outside of the palace walls, the capital city of Masarat was rebuilding. Remnants of the great attack on the capital still remained.

  Clenching his fists, Kasin tried to reign in the vivid images of arriving to the capital and finding homes being burned and his family's palace a pile of rubble. Men, women and children had been killed during the attack. Most significantly, his father, mother and younger brothers. Kasin hadn’t been ready to become Sheik of Masarat at twenty-five.

  He realized now, at twenty-nine, that he had made mistakes. Mistakes that would haunt him for the rest of his days. Scanning the letter he’d received from his friend and fellow Sheik, Amoz, announcing the arrival of his son, Xavier, Kasin sigh
ed. His friends were moving on with their lives. Getting married, having children. It was all so simple. So within Kasin’s grasp.

  All he had to do was make one phone call.

  Scanning the city skyline, Kasin sighed at the peace he saw there. Almost five years later, he’d succeeded where most had doubted him. He’d avenged his family and his people. He’d rebuilt his country from the rubble up to the glory they rightfully deserved.

  Turning his eyes on the mountain range he could see in the distance, to the north of the Arabian coastline he shared with the other Sheiks of the Arabian Coast, Kasin felt his face sober.

  It was time.

  Pulling his phone out of his pocket, Kasin hit the speed dial button he’d ached to hit, on so many occasions over the last five years.

  As the phone rang and a harsh voice answered, Kasin opened his mouth, unsure if he would be scolded for finally calling after five years.

  “Tell my wife it is time for her to return to her husband’s side. She will be forgotten no longer,” Kasin murmured into the phone and, at the affirmation on the other end, he hung up.

  Breathing in the fresh air, Kasin sighed loudly as he spoke to the mountains that had protected his wife for so long.

  Come to me, Princess Amira, Kasin thought wistfully. It is time for you to become my wife in all things.

  1

  Five years ago...

  Crown Prince Kasin Almasi had never seen such carnage. Especially in Masarat’s capital city. He was so unprepared for the smell of smoke and charred remains as he and his security detail drove further and further into the city until they stopped before the destroyed walls of Kasin’s family’s palace.

  Not thinking to allow his security detail to clear the area first, Kasin dove out of the high car, landing in the dirt and raced toward the crumbling palace. Kasin ignored the sounds of his head of security, Abel Sar, calling for him to stop. Jumping over piles of rubble, Kasin froze in his tracks at the sight before him. A few guards stood in a circle, their guns drawn, and at their feet lay the five white, cloth covered bodies that would forever haunt his dreams.

  Kasin didn’t care that others could see him. He didn’t care that there was a chance he could still be in danger. The insurgents still hadn’t been found. Collapsing before the smallest of cloth covered bodies, Kasin roared a sound so close to the pain he felt in his heart. As he ignored the protests of the others, Kasin clutched the white sheet and pulled it over the bodies head to reveal his only sister, Carmen. Her pale and dust covered face looked so peaceful. It only fuelled Kasin’s anger at the sight of her blood crusting her small chest. She’d only been five years old, a wonderful surprise to his parents who too were covered by white sheets.

  Had it only been a few days ago that he’d been celebrating his twenty-fifth birthday with his family before jetting off on some exercursion. Carmen had begged him not to go. That she wanted Kasin to stay and teach her to ride her new pony. He had brushed her off and told her he would teach her when he returned.

  “I’m so sorry, Carmen,” Kasin whispered through choked breath as he clutched the small child to his chest.

  “Kasin,” Abel’s voice broke through his sobs and the feeling of a large hand being placed on his shoulder drew Kasin away from sobbing into the child's singed hair.

  “We need to leave Kasin and go to the safe house, it might still not be safe. There could be others,” Abel crooned softly.

  “Let them take me,” Kasin growled through his sobs and clutched Carmen’s body tighter to his chest, “I cannot survive with such pain.”

  “You have to, Kasin, for your people. They too feel your pain. Without you, Masarat will truly fall to the insurgents. You can’t let them win,” Abel says, as he leans down and gently pulls Kasin to straighten.

  As gently as Kasin will allow the dark skinned man, Abel frees Carmen’s body from Kasin’s hands and lays the peaceful looking girl on the ground, once more covering her body with the white cloth.

  “They will be taken for burial, Kasin, it needs to be done and we need to get you to the safe house,” Abel murmurs as he stares into Kasin’s dull, hazy eyes.

  “Why?” Kasin’s voice cracks as he asks the simple word before continuing. “Why did they have to hurt them? They were innocent.”

  Not answering, Abel turns his back to Kasin and levels a hard look on the remaining security detail encircling them.

  “Get ready to move out. Be prepared to lay your life down for Masarat’s new Sheik,” Abel says, his tone brokering on no protests.

  At the other men’s nods and salutes, Kasin watches as Abel kneels down once more and offers Kasin his hand, “My Sheik, we must leave.”

  Staring from Abel’s hand to the bodies of his family under the sheets, Kasin closes his eyes and breathes in the scent of dust, fire and death. Opening his eyes once more, Kasin inwardly feels his insides hardening as he grasps Abel’s hand and allows the older man to help him to stand on shaky feet.

  “Bring the ones who did this to my family with their heads on a stake,” Kasin growls to Abel, knowing the older man is the only one who hears.

  Eyes wide for a moment, Abel finally nods and Kasin brushes him away as he marches back to the convoy, head held high and insides crumbling along with his once beautiful home.

  I will avenge you, my family. No matter the cost.

  2

  Five years later...

  Amira fidgeted before the mirror as her maid, Leeta, put the final arrangements on her simple french braid and ponytail combination. Biting her lip, Amir stared into her own violet eyes and winced slightly when Leeta pulled back her bright, white blonde hair in a braid more tightly than the others.

  “I’m sorry, Amira, there was a tangle,” Leeta crooned, seeing Amira’s face morph into pain.

  “It’s alright, Leeta, I’d forgotten how tightly the Masarat people wear their braids,” Amira forced a smile on her face to appease her young maid.

  “Are you excited for His Highness’ visit?” Leeta asked, her brown eyes meeting Amira’s through the mirror.

  Inwardly, Amira sighed at the question. It had been one she had dreaded being asked since the household had received news of his impending arrival. Amira hadn’t seen the man she called her husband in five years. Sure, she knew what he looked like. From magazines to newspaper articles written about the way the young Sheik rose from the ashes of his fallen family to bring his country, Masarat, into prosperity and peace.

  Now, he was coming here. Why? What could he want from her after leaving her in this hidden mountain palace that he couldn’t have taken five years ago at their wedding? Inwardly, Amira grimaced.

  What about your virginity? a voice hissed at her.

  “Amira?” Leeta’s voice calling her name dragged Amira out of her train of thought and she blushed when she realized she hadn’t even noticed Leeta was speaking to her.

  “Sorry, what were you saying, Leeta?” Amira asked, mind stewing.

  “Are you excited for Sheik Kasin’s visit?” Leeta asked again, warily eyeing her mistress, who pales at the question.

  “Yes, of course,” Amira lied. “Keeping up a long-distance relationship is difficult.”

  What should have been a happy occasion when she’d been told by her father that Kasin asked for her hand, only landed Amira in a dark pit of loneliness and pity. Thus, she lied to anyone around her and made everyone believe, due to the dangerous times Masarat was in, that she and Kasin were involved in a long-distance marriage. In five years, Kasin hadn’t visited once. Every so often he would send the odd gift.

  To everyone around her, they thought his gifts of jewelry or beautiful clothes were wonderfully romantic. He’d even sent a horse once. A beautiful Arabian stallion named Ester. Inwardly, with every gift that arrived for Amira, a little piece of her heart broke away. Amira wasn’t stupid, she knew that after Kasin was photographed by the media going to a club with his arms wrapped around some beautiful woman or out to dinner with another equally be
autiful woman, he would have a gift sent to her.

  Funnily enough, the servants that kept Amira occupied never commented on Kasin’s cheating ways or called her out on her lies. If they knew, they chose not to mention it, out of respect and love for their mistress.

  Amira stared at her simple, flowing pale dress. The sleeves were tight and constricting to her slim arms and the dress was cinched at her waist under her small chest. Her feet were covered by satin slippers. Sighing to herself as Leeta finished, Amira scanned her simple features. The only thing she’d ever thought was beautiful about herself was her violet eyes. As children, Kasin had even called her eyes startling gems.

  Did he even remember her eyes? Amira thought.

  Amira remembered his. She could recall them like it was the day of their wedding, five years ago. His dark, penetrating eyes had struck her as odd. Hadn’t they been brighter as a child? Now, they were shrouded in shadows.

  Shivering, Amira stood and walked a few steps toward the window of her bedroom that overlooked the palace courtyard. There, in only a few hours, Kasin would arrive in his vehicle and, for the first time in five years, see his wife for the first time. Biting her lip, Amira thought back on the annulment papers she’d printed off of the government's website. Perhaps as soon as he saw her, he would sign the papers? Or maybe he would make her wait and suffer through a long divorce, where she would be left with nothing.

  Her father certainly wouldn’t help her. Amira was the product of an affair he had on his wife and, as soon as Kasin asked for her hand, her father hadn’t spoken to her since. He hadn’t even attended their wedding. Amira’s mother left her with her father when she was still quite young and the only real connections she’d made had been with her half-brothers. Both of whom would be furious if they knew she planned on begging Kasin for an annulment. They both believed Amira was in her rights to take every penny Kasin had for keeping her locked away for five years.