by Leslie North
“You’re going to do so well,” she whispered, cupping the sides of his cheeks. “And you won’t trip once.”
Calla smiled at him as he allowed her mother to herd him backstage, where other models—including those being featured in Calla’s line up—were waiting to strut their stuff on stage. Much like last year, she’d worked tirelessly to put together this whole line of fashion. Every stitch, every bead, every hem was hers.
And it was only possible with the support of her loving husband and all the tribal wives.
Calla gathered up her sewing kit and joined the models backstage. Through the slit of the side entrance onto the catwalk, she could see the dark mass of people filling the auditorium, lit by camera flashes and cell phones. Looking out at the crowd was dizzying—she understood why Fatim’s nerves ran high each year—and for a moment, it distracted her from the latent nausea she’d been battling all day.
A type of nausea that just hadn’t left her in recent days.
The type of nausea she needed to tell Fatim about.
She crossed her arms, fighting a wave of excitement. The news had to come after the show. Otherwise, she’d tell Fatim, and he’d be too excited and trip, like he’d been fearing. She stepped closer, wondering if she could catch a glimpse of Nara and Rashid in the front row. Nobody knew the news yet, but she suspected those two would be the most excited of all.
“It’s time!” The backstage director waved out the first of Calla’s models, lithe, dark-haired beauties who were the perfect mix of Paris and Amatbah. Since last year’s Fashion Week, Calla’s designs had tuned into something of an empire; now the tribal nation relied on the sales of her clothing as a significant portion of its GDP.
She never could have imagined any of this when she’d agreed to be the royal seamstress…or when she’d agreed to marry Fatim.
“Go, go, go!” The director waved the models on in specific intervals, each one taking confident, sure steps that betrayed their years of practice. Fatim sent one last wide-eyed look her way before it was his turn. The director waved him closer to the door. “Now you, Your Highness!”
Fatim clenched his jaw and strode forward. Calla hurried as close to the doorway as she could without being spotted from the other side, to spy on Fatim’s walk. The whole auditorium erupted in cheers. Her heart swelled, tears pressing at her eyes. Not only was he the best man she’d ever known, he was beloved. Truly beloved by his people.
Calla fought tears as the models and Fatim made their serious walk down the runway and back again. When Fatim broke through to the backstage area from the other doorway, Calla rushed toward him, wrapping her arms around his neck.
“You did it!” The tears were flowing now, she couldn’t stop them. It was okay—more tears would be coming, once she shared her news. “You looked so amazing doing it, too.”
“All because of you, my love,” Fatim said, squeezing her hips before he placed a long, sloppy kiss on her lips.
“And see? You didn’t trip,” she teased.
“Not this year. Plenty of years left for that to still come true, though.”
She grinned up at him, the commotion of backstage receding to a dull murmur as she focused only on him and the words about to pass her lips. “That’s why I didn’t want to share my news with you until you were done on the catwalk,” she said. “If I had told you beforehand, you would have tripped.”
Fatim’s brows drew together. “What news, honey?”
She paused, finding a knot in her throat. She’d been waiting for this moment for a year. The moment when their family could grow to even greater heights of love and fulfillment.
“Calla,” Fatim said quietly. “Tell me.”
She rolled her lips inward, searching his face. Then the words tumbled out. “I’m pregnant.”
A stunned moment of silence shuddered between them as his mouth parted and a smile began a shocked crawl across his face. “Are you serious?” he asked in a low voice.
She nodded, and he whooped so loud that heads turned toward them. He scooped her up into his arms, squeezing her so tight that she couldn’t doubt his love if she tried.
“Oh my god,” he murmured into her ear, starting a slow sway back and forth. “This is the best news.”
“Our family of four is turning into five,” she said, smiling through tears. A couple escaped, coursing down her cheek.
“I love you, Calla,” Fatim whispered into her ear as they hugged. “Loving you was the best choice I ever made. And now our love has created something even better.”
Calla cried and laughed into his shoulder, feeling the depth of his words. The depth of his love. And then Fatim took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, sweeping her into a passionate kiss.
END OF THE SHEIKH’S WIFE ARRANGEMENT
THE SAFAR SHEIKHS SERIES BOOK ONE
The Sheikh’s Wife Arrangement, 15 August 2019
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The Sheikh’s Instant Family, 22 August 2019
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The Sheikh’s Sham Engagement, 29 August 2019
PS: Do you love passionate Sheikhs? Then keep reading for exclusive extracts from The Sheikh’s Instant Family and The Sheikh’s Surprise Heir.
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
Sheikh Amad has always gone with his gut, which is why his ventures abroad have multiplied his tribe’s wealth and business connections. But with his 30th birthday approaching—and with expectations that he be married by then—he’s got to go home soon...That means leaving his life in Las Vegas, and Vanessa, the sexy waitress he’s falling for, behind.
Vanessa Hammerman has had to work for everything she’s ever had, left by every man from her father on up. Sheikh Amad has been fun, but she’s not thinking of a long-term commitment with a Middle Eastern prince. She’d rather keep it fun…until the pregnancy test comes back positive. Now she’s out on the biggest limb of her life: Will this man run from her, too? Or will he be the one to stay?
It seems like fate when Vanessa tells Amad he’s going to be a father, and his marriage proposal is instantaneous. It’s the perfect solution for fulfilling his duty while at the same time satisfying his heart. But when he brings her home to his tribe, he realizes his independent, Western bride might not work so well in the traditional structure of the Middle East.
Vanessa has put everything on the line for this: her heart, her career, and her life. So when she refuses to fall in line with Amad’s expectations, they begin to doubt if they can make it work. But if they take the chance, love could become the biggest win of their lives.
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Grab your copy of The Sheikh’s Instant Family
Available 22 August 2019
www.LeslieNorthBooks.com
EXCERPT
Chapter One
Vanessa Hammerman squinted into the dim expanse of the club. Every so often, the carpeted path weaving between the tightly clustered tables lit up under the sweep of a strobe light. Disco balls offered scant illumination. Serving girls in tight outfits and short skirts flitted by, beautiful shadows under the pulsing thrum of the electronic music
.
And here she was, in the VIP section, a very nonalcoholic and very empty cranberry juice spritzer in front of her.
She’d come to this club a thousand times in her life. And in more recent times, this had become her meet-up place with Amad. Her sexy Middle Eastern lover. The man who had punctuated her whirlwind life in Vegas in a way that she might never forget.
Amad was out getting refills. He didn’t seem to notice that she’d specifically asked for no alcohol tonight, even though most nights she rocked cosmopolitans like it was her job. Vanessa smiled down at her glass. She and Amad weren’t serious, not by a long stretch. Life was just fun at his side.
She wanted it to stay that way.
“Excuse me?” A sharp feminine voice cut through her thoughts. Vanessa looked up, finding a busty waitress leaning down over the table. “Your boyfriend says he needs you on the dance floor.” The waitress set down two full drinks and then jutted her thumb over her shoulder. “I’ll leave your drinks here.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Vanessa said weakly, though it was more out of habit than any real need to correct the waitress. Nobody cared here. Much less this woman.
“What?” the waitress asked over the throbbing music.
“Thank you!” Vanessa said, louder this time, and scooted past her. She weaved her way down the aisle, heading for the dance floor, where countless heads could be seen shifting under the liquid flow of the lights.
Amad was out here, in this sea of human bodies, and normally, Vanessa was more than happy to meet him in the middle of it all.
But tonight, she just wanted some quiet, a warmly lit place to meet up so she could get some things off her chest.
The moment she caught sight of Amad’s ear-to-ear grin, both index fingers making that come here gesture that she couldn’t refuse, her hips were swaying in time with the music. It didn’t matter that she was anxious or tired or distraught. None of that mattered on the dance floor. Amad’s grin tugged her forward, through the last vestiges of resistance. He snagged her hands in his and soon they were bumping and swaying in time.
Amad pressed his warm cheek to hers. He didn’t speak—didn’t need to—yet she swore they were communicating. It had always been like that with him. Even though they’d only been hanging out for three months, sometimes it felt like three years. Serious or not, they had real chemistry. An intensity that could gut her if he looked at her in a certain way.
She let herself fall into the music. Their sweaty foreheads met, serious gazes broken by childish grins as they both danced and danced and danced.
This was what she loved about Amad. She could always live in the moment with him. He was the most fun of anyone. Always.
God, she hoped that didn’t change.
“Let’s take a breather,” she finally said, once countless electronic songs had come and gone under the spell of their dancing. Amad nodded and followed her off the dance floor. She led them back to their seats in the VIP section, their drinks untouched. She collapsed in front of her cranberry spritzer with a sigh. Amad tossed back his gin and tonic and immediately flagged down another waitress.
“You’re so sexy when you dance, Vanessa,” Amad said into her ear once the waitress had gone. “I don’t know why you stopped.”
“Just kinda tired,” she said, figuring he couldn’t sense the worry flicking through her.
“You and I,” he said, “we should get out of Vegas sometime. I mean really out. Have you ever thought about that?” He shouted over the din of the music, though compared to the dance floor, their seats were practically in a quiet zone. “We should go to Ibiza sometime. I went to the craziest party in Ibiza once. I even won a boxing competition there. I could probably get us a free meal just by flashing my trophy, not gonna lie.”
Vanessa snorted with laughter. Amad was no stranger to world travel and fantastical stories. “Was that with or without alcohol involved?”
“Without, without. Or maybe with. So when is good for you? Ibiiiiza.” He massaged her thigh under the table. “Come on, baby. Let’s set a date. I bet you’d be fun to travel with. Imagine all the seaside sex.”
It was hard not to get lost in the caramel swirl of his gaze. Amad had a heat that regularly intoxicated her. Saying no to him was never an option. Nor was disturbing this precarious balance of fun and lightness. They were dating, sure, but they weren’t anything serious.
Because who wanted to be the girl who brought that loaded topic up? Vanessa knew better than to expect he’d want anything long-term. Nobody did. Not a single man in her life had stayed, from her daddy on up.
Even the news she had to share with him didn’t convince her that he’d stay. More than anything, it would probably make him bolt.
“Let’s talk about dates later,” she said, nuzzling her shoulder into his.
“We’ll need to set it soon,” Amad said, pinching one eye shut to give her a half-drunken stern look. “I’m going home soon to see my brothers for some business, and I don’t want this to conflict. Ibiza can’t conflict.”
“My schedule is wide open, babe,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder. She loved coming out with him. He was so fun and spontaneous, but also so affectionate. He didn’t want to hide the fact that they were dating, or fucking, or whatever it was they were doing. That’s what she’d miss the most, if he chose to end things—the way it seemed like he actually loved being with her.
Sadness pinged through her. She loved being with him. Three short months and already he was the best man she’d ever known. The funnest. The sexiest. She had a whole scroll of words reserved just for him.
She didn’t want him to leave. To leave her behind. But she had to get the words out of her mouth. She had to tell him.
“Amad—" she began.
“I’m trying to get this meeting with a huge, like…department store,” Amad said. “It’s huge. And high-end. I’m trying to get my family’s clothing line in stores around the world, see.” He wet his bottom lip as he studied the other side of the club. “They’ll set the date. It’s all up to them. This is just my chance to bring something new to my tribe, you know?”
Vanessa smiled up at him. He tended to spill his business dealings when he’d had a few drinks, which was cute. This wasn’t the first time he’d referenced his tribe, though. Amad was trendy, but that part always stuck out to her as a bit too trendy. Why didn’t he just call them his friends and family?
“What if your tribe was about to get bigger?” she asked, heart racing suddenly. Here it was. She was going to tell him. She just had to say it.
“My tribe is always getting bigger,” he said.
“No, I mean, like, our tribe.” She gestured to the space between them. “Amad, I’m pregnant.”
Dunt Dunt Dunt Dunt. The bass throbbed around them as Amad’s eyes narrowed. He went quiet for what felt like an hour.
“What did you say?”
“I’m pregnant, and it’s yours.” She tacked on a big smile for good measure. Her heart beat so fast she thought she might pass out. Please be happy, or even mildly interested in our baby.
Amad blinked a few times, and his expression shifted into a smile. Slowly, that heartbreaker grin crept across his face. His rough boxer hands covered hers.
“Are you serious?” he asked.
She nodded, tears suddenly pricking her eyes. She hadn’t expected to get emotional about this. She hadn’t even expected him to smile. Hell, in her head she was already preparing for him to be halfway out the front door.
“I am. I wasn’t sure how you’d take it, but I thought you should know.” She could barely speak loudly enough to be heard over the music.
“This is amazing,” Amad said. The amazed grin hadn’t dulled even slightly. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to hers the way he loved to do. It always grounded her, always made her see stars for just a few seconds. Like they were together. Like they were really something.
“Let’s take it one step further, baby,” he whis
pered into her ear. “Let’s go get married.”
Grab your copy of The Sheikh’s Instant Family
Available 22 August 2019
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
(Karawi Sheikhs Book One) here.