The Sheikh’s Fake Marriage: Sheikhs of Hamari Book Two

by North, Leslie

  This new life was something else.

  Kishon tapped something out on his phone, then slipped it into his pocket. It took him a moment to answer, blinking at her as if he hadn’t quite heard what she said.

  “Wandering…no. I thought we could go to the fountain at the center, which is the main attraction.” A slow smile spread across his face. “Have I mentioned that you look gorgeous this morning?”

  “You have.” Ever since he’d left her to get settled the previous night, Chloe had wanted more of him. But she’d fallen asleep waiting for him, and when she woke up this morning, he was already gone, the only sign he’d been back to his apartment a note on the smallest table in his dining room. “Twice in the car, actually.”

  Kishon took her hand, and the breath in her lungs heated. This was more like it. They walked briskly through the gardens, stopping to ooh and ahh at the more stunning flowering plants. Movement felt good. Having somewhere to go felt even better. Work at the bar had been tiring, but lingering over breakfast by herself this morning hadn’t been as relaxing as she’d anticipated.

  “Whoa,” said Kishon, pulling her back next to him and wrapping an arm around her waist, slowing her pace. “You can’t be the one pulling me along.”

  “I can if you’re the one who’s walking too slowly.” A beat of unease thumped across the back of her neck.

  Chloe felt his laugh through the touch on her waist. “It’s not the best look for the press.”

  “The press?” She hadn’t seen any reporters when they got out of the SUV, but—oh. There they were, huge lenses unmistakable through the foliage. She could see the glints and gleams of those lenses on the side paths. They were keeping their distance—they had to, with Kishon’s security forming a loose perimeter around them as they went—but the hairs on the back of Chloe’s neck stood up. One of her feet tripped against the other. “Right. All right.”

  Kishon rubbed the small of her back. “Don’t pay any more attention to them.” He turned her to face him, and her pulse rocked through her veins. How could she not pay attention to them when even her walk had to be carefully monitored for the pictures? She could hear the camera shutters now.

  It made abundant sense. After all, the engagement was for show. Back in the US, she’d had no doubt that Kishon had been attracted to her. Nobody came to a bar like that and lingered so long by himself unless he had a reason. But now, strangely, as the cameras clicked and Kishon rubbed the pad of this thumb under her chin, she couldn’t tell if any of it was real.

  But real wasn’t part of the arrangement.

  Her brain knew it, but her body sure as hell didn’t. The gentle tease of his thumb and his breath playing over her lips felt plenty real. It was a second-by-second thing. One second, she was painfully aware of how Kishon had angled them so the cameras could have a perfect profile shot, and the next she was swept under by the cedar and smoke smell of him. That sparkle in his eye couldn’t be fake…could it?

  Her breath snagged, seeming too big for the space there, and finally she wrapped a hand around his wrist and tugged it down to her waist. Chloe could see the photo now. She would be smiling up into Kishon’s sexy grin, pressing his hand to her skin—

  “I came here to see a fountain,” she said when she could finally catch her breath. “Not to have you seduce me in front of the press.”

  “Oh, I could never do that,” Kishon said, wrapping his arm around her waist and tugging her toward the center of the garden. “I’ve already seduced you. They’re taking photos of the aftermath.”

  No matter how lightly he said it, and no matter how she laughed, it was the truth, wasn’t it?

  “Do you really think you’ve seduced me already?” she teased. “It takes more than a trip to Dubai to lock me down.”

  “Dubai?” Kishon’s voice rang with a warm disbelief. “I believe we spent a night together in Washington, DC, that more than counted as seduction.” He pulled her closer, and the low curl of his voice went straight to her belly, becoming a steady pulse of desire. “I seem to recall you stretched out naked on my sheets, trying to wriggle down onto—”

  “Kishon!” Chloe wasn’t in the habit of squealing, but if her cheeks got any hotter she would burst into a pillar of flame right here in the garden.

  “All right, all right.” He brushed a kiss to her temple. “We can go over that later.”

  “Maybe we could reenact it later,” said Chloe. “I don’t know if I quite remember all the details you were mentioning.”

  “No? I’m happy to remind you. Ah.” Kishon made a sweeping gesture with his free hand toward a huge stonework fountain with a tree at its center, the water pouring down over its branches like rainfall. “Here’s the fountain. Should we stop for a sketch? You’re a little red in the face, my soon-to-be queen. I’m worried you’re becoming overheated.”

  She shook her head with a snort. Overheated wasn’t the half of it. But she sat down on a bench nearby, took out her sketchbook and pencils, and tried to cool down.

  When she’d filled several pages with sketches in her loose, free style, Kishon took her through the city. They stopped at a small café he’d liked to visit as a boy, an art museum the royal family had funded, and an ancient archway that marked the city’s old walls.

  “There’s one more thing I’d like you to see,” Kishon said as she added some shading to the keystone in her sketch of the archway.

  “If it’s your royal bedsheets…” Chloe warned.

  The laugh he gave her in return was better than chocolate. Better than everything, really, except actually being in bed with him.

  They pulled up in front of a building fifteen minutes later, and Chloe saw why he’d wanted to show it off. It gleamed. The pristine white walls boasted huge windows that overlooked a manicured park with a playground as its centerpiece. The playground swarmed with kids, at least half of them moving full-tilt over the new-looking equipment. Even more of them bent over the sidewalk, chalk in hand. Every available inch was covered in clouds and rainbows, stick figures and smiley faces. They stepped out of the car. “What is this place?”

  “It’s our youth center. The royal family funded its construction and upkeep. Come inside.”

  They opened the doors into a burst of cool air and…silence. Chloe had to admit that the quiet felt good, but something about it was off. Kishon showed her state-of-the-art classrooms for teaching everything from art to dance to coding. At the back of the building was a huge library with a bank of shiny new computers humming along in a glass-walled classroom. One boy sat at the computers, and one girl curled in a chair by a window with a book. She looked up from her page and gave Chloe a tentative wave, then went back to reading.

  “And that’s it,” said Kishon.

  “Very impressive.” She felt odd about lingering in the hush of the library, so they went back out into the general cacophony of kids on the playground.

  “Sheikh Kishon!” One of the little boys had recognized Kishon and came wheeling toward them, his hands stuffed with chalk. “Want to draw with us?”

  “I do,” said Chloe.

  The boy narrowed his eyes. “What about Sheikh Kishon?”

  Kishon was already rolling up his sleeves. “The green chalk, please.”

  Chloe found herself crouched on the sidewalk with the king of Hamari, amid the ebb and flow of children, a moment as surreal as all the others since she’d gone with him to his hotel. There he was, concentrating hard, eyes fixed on the chalk drawing. More kids joined in, and Chloe grabbed some pink and yellow and drew in a sunset near a cloud that was already there.

  “That’s an excellent tree,” she said to Kishon. His gaze went to her drawing.

  “Not nearly as good as your sunset,” said Kishon.

  “You’ve got some skill,” she said.

  “I’ll show you more of my skill later.” His words made her blush. His grin made her heart pound.

  Fake, she reminded herself. This is all fake.

  * * *
>
  Chloe lifted her glass of sparkling water and sipped, the bubbles refreshing her as much as the cold. The two of them sat at a private table at one of Hamari’s best restaurants—a top-floor, high-end space with windows overlooking the city. It was a stunning view, with the warm sandstone buildings seeming to trap the essence of the sun, but her mind was on the youth center.

  “Does it bother you?” She put her glass on the table.

  “The sparkling water?” Kishon pursed his lips, a smile in his eyes. “I’ve never minded it.”

  “The youth center,” she said. “I can’t stop thinking about it. All those children wanted to do was play outside. I didn’t see anyone in the classrooms. Doesn’t it bother you that the royal family has spent all that money on something that’s hardly being used?”

  Kishon put down his fork, pausing. “I suppose I haven’t thought about it. We wanted the space to be available, and now it is.”

  “It’s wonderful,” Chloe said. “Modern, well-built…”

  “But?” His eyebrow curved up like the archway guarding the city.

  “What’s the use of funding it if nobody’s using it?”

  “That’s the problem of the people who run it.”

  “You built it,” Chloe insisted. She wasn’t sure why it had caught her attention, this one building in all of Hamari. But it had.

  “It’s tradition for the family to turn over administration to the people with these kinds of projects.” Kishon shrugged. “It’s not for me to get involved.”

  Chloe laughed. “Your man bun isn’t traditional. Your choice of a bride isn’t traditional.” She felt her face flush. “Is the whole tradition thing a choose-your-own-adventure situation?”

  It made him laugh, and she felt a flash of pride. It might never get old, making him laugh. “I can cut my hair.”

  “Don’t do that. I like your hair.” She leaned in, wanting the space between them to be as small as possible. If only it weren’t for the table…

  “And you like my bed,” he said matter-of-factly.

  “It’s not the bed. Definitely the man between the sheets.” If Kishon could play that game, so could she.

  His eyes burned into hers. “So naughty, tempting me in public.”

  “Turnabout’s fair play.” The heat between her legs sizzled and expanded, and…

  “More wine?” The waiter stepped up to the table, breaking into the superheated bubble of their flirtation. It was almost a relief, like breaking above the surface of the water and taking a deep breath.

  When the waiter stepped away, Kishon was still looking at her. “I wonder about something,” he said.

  Chloe braced herself for another round of his playful seduction. If he kept this up, they might have to…she didn’t know. Send everyone out of the restaurant? Find a coat closet? Neither thing seemed like something the king of Hamari would traditionally do, but she wanted it. “Tell me.”

  “I wonder if you’d like to look into the youth center a bit more.”

  Excitement lit up her nerves. “Look into it?”

  “Yes. Our engagement…is what it is,” he said carefully, though there was no one else in the dining room. “But I’ll support you if you’d like to work in the community. I can tell you’re thinking a lot about this. You have the people’s best interests in mind.”

  “I love the sound of that.” Anticipation, like sweet, cold air, blew against the back of her neck. “Don’t get me wrong—I want to sketch the entire city. And many other cities besides. But being involved…it feels good to me.”

  They went back to the meal, Chloe buzzing with pride. Kishon respected her enough to give her some leeway on a project in his country that would have a positive effect on the people.

  Nothing could be more real than that.

  8

  Chloe walked briskly through the halls of the palace, her pink wrap dress gliding delicately over her skin. She could get used to this—the beautiful, colorful clothes that made her feel like a million bucks; Sahr, the woman who came to do her hair and makeup in the morning if she requested it; and the new sense of purpose she had about the youth center.

  There had to be a way to get the whole building into good use. The sidewalk chalk was clear proof that the kids liked to make art, so why hadn’t the center harnessed that? It could mean more jobs for art teachers, and a better use of the facility…

  But it would have to wait.

  She made a sharp right, then another left into a small dining room. The pale blue color scheme was sun-soaked and airy.

  “Chloe. Good morning.” Kishon’s brother Chakir stood to greet her. His fiancée Hannah grinned at her, nose wrinkling. Whew, she was a stunner, and the perfect match for Chakir. They had similar chestnut hair, and Hannah’s was styled into a sleek knot at the base of her neck. Jealousy at their very real engagement roiled in her gut like a brewing storm, but she forced that feeling away.

  “Good morning. It’s good to meet you. Again,” Chloe said. They’d met briefly on the way back into the palace from dinner last night, but it had been such a whirlwind that she and Hannah had only been able to exchange a few words. Now they air-kissed both cheeks, and Chloe’s stomach knotted. Ugh. She had to stop focusing on how temporary this was and live in the moment.

  And this moment was a meeting with a real prince and his real fiancée.

  The three of them sat around the table and chatted while a waiter brought out frosted bowls of fruit and a tray of steaming muffins. Chloe tore one open and popped a piece into her mouth. Perfection.

  “We don’t want to take up too much of your vacation,” Hannah said. “So we thought we’d get to the point.”

  “It’s become more than a vacation,” Chloe said. “Kishon is letting me work with the people at the youth center. I have some ideas that will—” She laughed, waving a hand in the air. “I can’t wait to get back over there.”

  Hannah and Chakir exchanged a look.

  “Uh oh,” said Chloe.

  “About that,” began Chakir.

  “Have you guys already…uh, claimed it? For your own project?” She fought off a wave of disappointment. “Because if so, obviously I can—”

  “No, no.” Hannah held up both hands. “We wanted to talk to you about the wedding.”

  “My wedding? Or yours?”

  “Both,” said Hannah. She shot another glance at Kishon. “The thing is, we have a date in mind.” She named a date almost exactly a month away. “It’s the anniversary of when we first met, and when Chakir came into Ryan’s life…” Hannah put a hand on top of Chakir’s. “It would mean a lot to us to get married on that day.”

  “And that means Kishon and I have to be married first.” The reality sank in with a booming thump of her heart.

  Chakir studied her. “Since your engagement is…” He pinned his lip between his teeth.

  “Fake.” Chloe sat up straight, giving them her very best confident bartender smile. “We can say it out loud. It’s okay.”

  “Since it’s fake,” Hannah barreled on. “We thought we would quickly pull together the wedding details for you, to save time. Then we can have ours.” She wrinkled her nose. “I know it’s a lot to ask, rushing you like this—”

  “And obviously, it’s completely up to you and Kishon,” Chakir said firmly. “If you’d rather take your time—”

  “No,” said Chloe, louder than she’d intended. She folded her hands neatly on the table, steadying herself. “In fact, it’s—it’s probably better to do it faster.”

  “Like you and Kishon are so in love that you couldn’t wait.” Hannah’s voice was gentle, like raindrops, and a vision of Kishon flashed into her mind.

  He’d spent so many hours sitting across the bar, laughing at the things she’d said and looking at her as if he could see straight into her soul. Chloe had left the bar feeling buzzed, like she’d had a good glass of wine, every time he came in. She felt a pang—a sweet, sad note in her center. Chloe couldn’t tell whether it was
because she really was in love with Kishon or because she wanted it to be true so badly.

  Or maybe both.

  “Yes,” she said, a beat too late. “Just like that.” She wiggled her fingers in the air. “Give it to me, then.”

  “Are you sure?” Chakir said, the hope in his eyes unmistakable. “Because if—”

  Chloe grinned cheekily despite the ache at the center of her ribs. “I know you’ve got a binder with all the wedding plans. Let me see it so we can get this show on the road.”

  “If you insist.” Hannah reached down with a flourish, pulling a thick binder from somewhere underneath the table.

  Chloe burst out laughing. “Very slick.”

  “Just wait until you see the plans.” Hannah flipped the binder around and pushed it across the table. It was no slapdash effort—each page was thick and glossy. “All the major details are there, so you don’t have to spend too much time on it.”

  Chloe flipped one page then another. There were the royal gardens in an artist’s rendering showing the gauzy, sophisticated decorations that would enhance the space. There was the royal ballroom, filled with tables. A close-up of the centerpieces—large and rich, with the flowers in shades of purple that made her think of romance at dusk.

  She looked up at Hannah and narrowed her eyes. “This is your second-choice stuff, isn’t it?”

  Chakir straightened up in his seat. “What does that mean?”

  Hannah patted his hand. “It totally is,” she admitted with a chuckle. “But royal second choice still pretty much blows every other possible wedding out of the water.”

  “Wow.” Chloe whistled. “I can’t wait to see what the top tier is. I assume I’ll be getting some prime seating, right?”

  All of them laughed, and Chloe went back to the binder. It was a relief that they’d done all this. If she’d put her own heart and soul into it…

  Well, she couldn’t think about that now.