by Leslie North
Makayla shut the desk drawer as delicately as she could, then stood up and left the office. She pulled the door closed behind her, facing out.
The hallway was still empty.
Get moving.
She put one foot in front of the other, rushing for the main hall. Two of the security staff went by at a jog, saying something into their walkie talkies, and it was all she could do not to flatten herself against the wall. Because that was going to help her.
As soon as they were out of sight, she dashed into the hall and made for the staff staircase. More security guards were coming down, probably from their quarters on the third floor, and every time another black suit came into view her heart slammed into the floor and bounced back up. It was the world’s worst game of paddleball.
When she got to the hallway with the staff rooms, she ran.
Her room was the third one on the right. Hannah hurled herself inside gracelessly. They were on to her. She had to get out. That was all that mattered.
She’d come here with almost nothing. There hadn’t been much she wanted to bring to Qadir and even less she wanted to have with her when she was undercover as a maid. Makayla threw her battered backpack over one shoulder. She could change her clothes now, but that would delay her getting out. And if she was wearing street clothes in the house, she’d stick out like a sore thumb. She wanted to get out of the maid’s uniform, but it would do for now. Once she was free, she’d mail it back to the house. Yes. Good plan. Now, go.
She took her phone and the charger from the rickety bedside table in one sweep. It wouldn’t help her immediately—she hadn’t had any bars of service since she’d landed in Qadir—but it was the last of her easily accessible belongings.
Damn. It had all ended too soon. She’d been so close to finding out some of their secrets, and now…
Now she had to get outside before they caught her and hauled her off to jail. That was the thought Makayla had worked to keep at bay all these weeks. If she was caught, she could meet the same fate as as her father.
And there would be nobody to miss her, let alone come for her. Grandma Riggs was dead. Her mother was dead. Her father was dead.
Life in a Qadiri prison. It was a terrifying risk, but what choice did she have? She wanted answers.
Makayla jogged down the hallway to the stairs, scrambling down them as fast as she could in the sensible shoes she wore for her maid duties. The staircase let out into the narrow T of a hallway. She took the right, toward the staff entrance, positioned at the side of the house so staff could come in and out without cluttering up the main entryway.
She reached the door and went out into the October air.
Voices rang from the front of the house. She’d creep for the side entrance.
Three, two, one, go.
She stepped away from the door, hoping she’d escape notice long enough to reach the trees.
Then the floodlights came on.
She bolted forward, hunching down to conceal her shape beneath her backpack, which was probably pointless. If she could get to the trees—
“Stop, stop!” The chorus of voices got louder behind her. Prison bars. She could only think of prison bars. Makayla picked up speed. If she could get to the road…
How much farther? The size of the property was an illusion, she remembered. It looked bigger because of the trees.
Makayla stumbled through the staff gate and onto the road, running blind, panic in her ears and her heart in her throat.
The screech of the brakes on the SUV ripped the breath from her lungs. How could they have caught up to her so fast?
The back door opened.
“It’s all right!” a voice shouted. “Get in!”
Grab your copy of The Sheikh’s American Assistant
Available March 5, 2020
www.LeslieNorthBooks.com
BLURB
Every time Natalie looks at her beautiful daughter, Iris, she can’t help but think about the passionate night she spent with a prince—and for good reason: Prince Iman Karawi is Iris’s father. Though Natalie longed to tell Iman about their daughter, unknown to her, Iman’s manipulative uncle hid the truth. Even as she goes on with her life, caring for her daughter and her dying mother, she cannot get thoughts of Iman out of her mind. Now, six years later, a chance meeting brings back all the feelings Natalie’s tried to forget. How could one-night haunt her after all this time? It’s clear Iman wants to continue where they left off, and it’s just as clear to Natalie that he might break her heart again. Especially if he ever finds out that little Iris is his.
For Iman, Natalie was always more than a one-night stand. He never understood why she left so abruptly, and even years later during a chance meeting, he’s still drawn to the blonde beauty in a way he can’t explain. Despite being promised to another by his parents, Iman can’t suppress his excitement—or desire—at seeing her again. But this time, Iman is not ready to say good-bye. He makes her a job offer she cannot refuse, and as he and Natalie spend more time together, it’s clear to Iman he cannot marry his fiancé, not when the love he feels for Natalie burns so deep.
As the past threatens to destroy their blossoming romance, it might be too late for either of them to find the happily ever after that has always been just out of reach.
Grab your copy of The Sheikh’s Surprise Heir
(The Karawi Sheikhs Book One, Book 1) from
www.LeslieNorthBooks.com
EXCERPT
Chapter One
Six Years Earlier
I need the money. I need the money. I need the money. Natalie chanted the phrase over and over in her head as she readied a pot of water to brew more coffee. It was supposed to be her week off, but her friend Erin had begged Natalie to take the unplanned flight so she could go to some pop icon concert. As much as Natalie had wanted to spend the week with her mom at the hospital, she needed the money to help cover the medical bills.
Although, to be honest, working Prince Iman Karawi’s private flight barely made a dent in the medical bills, and the man was as unpleasant as they come. Natalie had only been working with Kaylana Private Flights for a few months now, and the money was better, but the rich clientele left a lot to be desired.
The plane hit a small patch of turbulence, and Natalie widened her stance and reached for the counter. She’d been a flight attendant for five years now, and a little bouncing didn’t bother her. When the coffee finally started to brew, she sighed in relief and grabbed the coffee cups. His-Highness had complained about the first two cups of coffee she’d served him. He didn’t like the flavor. He thought it was too weak.
If he didn’t like this one, she was going to accidentally slip and pour it in his lap.
The phone on the wall rang. “Yes?” she asked as she picked it up.
“We’re approaching Egypt,” Zane Maroun, the senior pilot, informed her. “We should be reaching the Haamas kingdom in a little over two hours. The spots of turbulence will probably continue. Everything okay back there?”
“I think so. Just trying to make His Highness’s cup of coffee to his liking,” Natalie said through gritted teeth.
The pilot chuckled. “Keep things civil.”
“I’ll try.” Hanging up, she poured out the requisite number of cups and placed them on the beverage cart. The prince was traveling with his ambassador and three security agents.
“It’s about time,” one of the bodyguards snapped as she entered the cabin. “The Prince is waiting.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said sweetly. “I didn’t realize the Prince was in such a hurry for his coffee since he rejected the first two cups I offered him. I have some instant in the back that I can use next time.”
That earned her a hard look, but the man didn’t say anything else as he took his cup.
It was obvious that her statement hadn’t gone unnoticed. The prince fixed his gorgeous dark eyes on her, and despite her misgivings about him, she couldn’t help but melt a little. She hated to th
ink that his sinfully good looks were getting to her, but her heart skipped a beat every time he looked at her.
If he’d only keep his mouth shut, he’d be a little more perfect.
He never said anything directly to her, preferring to deliver his scathing criticism through one of his bodyguards. She didn’t know what was more infuriating: the fact that he was such an ass or the fact that he didn’t think she was worthy of hearing his ridiculous demands first-hand.
He didn’t even accept the cup of coffee from her hand. She had to put it down on the small table by the large leather seat. As he slid his eyes over her body, letting them linger in certain inappropriate places, she narrowed her own eyes and glared.
A ghost of a smile played on his lips, making her flush as she turned away. Damn it. She was acting like a fifteen-year-old teenager who still fell for sexy bad boys. After finishing the coffee service, she headed back to her station.
“Much better,” she heard the prince say suddenly. His voice dripped with disdain.
Her back stiffened; she froze and closed her eyes in annoyance as she told herself between clenched teeth to keep going.
She lost the internal battle and turned around. Dropping into a small curtsy, she gave him her biggest, fakest smile. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
The ambassador’s eyes rounded and nearly bugged out of the older man’s head, but Natalie didn’t care. She wasn’t about to become a doormat. She turned away again and headed to the tiny galley.
As she pulled the curtain shut behind her, she sighed and emptied the coffee filter. This flight from Chicago to some kingdom in the Middle East that she’d never even heard of was turning out to be the longest in her life.
She’d been on some doozy flights before. Grabby passengers. Incessantly crying babies. Horribly sick service dogs. Co-workers who thought they were above cleaning the bathrooms in-flight. Honestly, the job really sucked sometimes.
She’d thought the private flights would be better, and in some respects, they were. At least there were fewer people to care for.
On the plus side, she got to travel. She’d have two whole days in Haamas to explore and see the sights before the plane was fueled and readied for the flight back. So far in her career, she’d drooled over the amazing architecture in Russia. Visited beautiful castles in Germany, Ireland, and Scotland. Tasted delicious Asian cuisine and traversed ancient temples and serene gardens. Viewed stunning artwork at the Louvre and swam in the Aegean off the coast of Greece. Collecting memories was her escape from reality and one that she’d never be able to afford without this job.
It was well worth the indignities that she suffered. Most of the time.
Two hours until touchdown. No more meals to serve. Coffee, maybe. Her feet ached, and she was exhausted. She hadn’t been able to close her eyes for more than an hour during the thirteen-hour flight. The last-minute change had afforded her only a few hours of shut-eye before the trip, and she was reaching the end of her rope. If she didn’t get off this plane soon, her snarkiness was going to turn into something that got her fired.
Sitting heavily on the stool in the small break space, she rubbed her feet. Her relief was short-lived as one of the guards yanked the curtain open. “The Prince requires you to change the air coming out of the vents. He’s cold.”
“The controls are right above him,” she said as she stood. “He can adjust them as much as he likes.”
The guard simply stared at her, and she sighed, pulled her high-heeled shoe back into place, and stood up from the stool. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
After giving her hands a quick wash, she took a deep breath to settle her nerves as she headed back out. “Prince Iman,” she said cordially when she reached him. “Would you like me to turn the air off, or simply turn it down?”
Again, he stared at her with that strange smile on his sensual lips.
“Right. Well, I’ll turn it down for you.” Leaning over his chair, she turned the knob all the way to the right. “If you want to turn it back on again, turn this knob to the left.” Looking down to make sure that he understood, she realized that she was right between his legs.
There was something hungry in his gaze.
Sudden unreasoning panic hit her. Eyes wide, she pushed away and took a step back. The men around her chuckled, and she shook her head.
That was it. She’d had enough. She wasn’t their entertainment. As she opened her mouth to tell them off, a loud explosion interrupted her, and the whole plane veered to the left.
With a gasp, she lost her balance and fell right into the royal lap.
“What is that?” one of the guards demanded as he slid in his seat toward the window to look out. “What is that?” he repeated, his body tense as he stared outside.
“Please remain calm,” she said in her best professional voice as she hastily scrambled off the prince’s lap. Avoiding eye contact with any of them, she looked out the window and saw in horror that flames were dancing on the wing of the plane.
At least the plane didn’t drop like a rock, but its flight remained unsteady, jouncing and dipping as she struggled to get to the cockpit door. Picking up the phone, she punched the button to reach the flight crew. “What’s going on?”
“We’ve lost control of the stabilizer,” Zane’s voice crackled grimly in her ear. “Get everyone ready for a crash landing.”
Trembling, she switched the phone to “cabin” and said in the flat “recorded” voice she’d learned to put on, “Please remain calm. We are experiencing a mechanical failure, and we’re going in for an emergency landing.” She replaced the phone in the cradle and headed back to her seat. A sudden drop had her gripping the back of the seats as her jaw slammed painfully shut. Taking a deep breath, she blew it out and raised her voice to be heard above the tumult. “Please make sure your seat backs and tray tables are in their full upright position, and make sure your seat belt is buckled. Please remain calm until the pilot provides further instructions.” She winced mentally. The speech had been automatic, drilled into her for potential emergencies in the commercial flights she’d commonly served. This plane didn’t have tray tables.
Panic erupted in the passenger cabin as the two standing bodyguards dove into their seats and everyone scrambled for their seat belts. Only the prince seemed to remain calm.
Natalie took her seat in the back and buckled up. Gripping the crossover straps in the jump seat with white-knuckled hands, she closed her eyes.
She was only twenty-three. She was too young to die, and what would become of her mother?
If she died today, her mother would quit fighting the cancer. She’d have nothing left to live for.
Grab your copy of The Sheikh’s Surprise Heir
(The Karawi Sheikhs Book One, Book 1) from
www.LeslieNorthBooks.com