Halabi Sheikh Series
The Sheikh King’s Ward
The Sheikh’s Fake Courtship
The Sheikh’s Mail-Order Bride
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.
RELAY PUBLISHING EDITION, FEBRUARY 2021
Copyright © 2021 Relay Publishing Ltd.
All rights reserved. Published in the United Kingdom by Relay Publishing. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Leslie North is a pen name created by Relay Publishing for co-authored Romance projects. Relay Publishing works with incredible teams of writers and editors to collaboratively create the very best stories for our readers.
Cover design by Mayhem Cover Creations.
www.relaypub.com
Blurb
Prince Danyal Halabi has always been the black sheep of the royal family, with no responsibilities and no plans for the future. And now thanks to his drinking buddies’ prank, he’s about to prove everyone has been right about him all along. Getting a mail-order bride was just a lark, something his friends laughingly convinced him to do after he’d had one too many. But what started out as a joke is now standing at the palace’s front door with a toddler in tow. Yes, Jayne Barnes is just as beautiful in person as she is in her profile picture, but does she really expect him to marry her? And could their contract be binding? Danyal enjoys his life as a playboy, and the thought of being a father to Jayne’s son and opening himself up to any woman is terrifying. There’s no way he’s getting married. But his older brothers have different ideas…
Desperate times call for desperate measures, which was how Jayne got herself and her son, Noah, into this mess. With no home and a near-empty bank account, this mail-order bride business was a Hail Mary that actually worked. Well, would have worked if the prince had been serious about marrying her. Now, she’s stuck here in Al-Mifadhir, at least until the lawyers figure out if the contract they signed is valid. In the meantime, to avoid yet another scandal for the royals, she’s agreed to have a fake courtship to silence the gossips and appease Danyal’s brothers. Spending time with a hot prince isn’t too much of a sacrifice. Besides, her son has bonded to Danyal in a way that is as heartwarming as it is worrisome. There’s no denying Danyal is charming and spectacularly sexy. But he’s hiding something vital from her, and now Jayne has to decide if this man is worth staying for...
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(Halabi Sheikhs Series Book Three)
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Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Epilogue
End of The Sheikh’s Mail-Order Bride
Thank you!
About Leslie
Also by Leslie
1
Jayne clung to her seat, palms sweating. There had to be some mistake. Either that or the world’s cruelest catfish, sending her halfway round the world to an address that was...some kind of palace? A museum?
“Mamama?” Noah stirred beside her, rubbing his eyes. She pulled him close and stroked his hair.
“Uh, driver?”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Where’s the...I said number one, Plaza of the Sun?”
“Yes, ma’am. The Royal Palace. This is it.” He rolled down the window and pointed at the great golden dome blazing like the sunrise. “See that dome? That’s where the plaza got its name. Will you be getting out here?”
Jayne swallowed. Every fiber of her being told her to run, to fly straight home and hope her job was still waiting. This was a joke. It had to be. People who lived in palaces didn’t shop for wives online. She’d step out of the cab and the cameras would rush in, microphones in her face, some Ashton Kutcher type yelling gotcha. Like her life wasn’t already a joke.
Noah squirmed again, face squinching into a frown. He wasn’t one for tantrums, but the twelve-hour flight had stretched his toddler patience to its limit. If he didn’t stretch his legs soon, she’d be in for a full-blown meltdown.
“Yeah,” she said. “This is us.”
“Very good, ma’am. I’ll get your bags.”
“Thank you.” Jayne took a deep breath, braced herself, and opened the door. No cameras appeared, so she took Noah’s hand and got out. She took one step, then another. The driver jumped out and pulled their two suitcases from the trunk, setting them on the sidewalk next to the car. Someone laughed, and she spun to look—only a tourist, posing with one of the palace guards.
“Excuse me—Miss Barnes? Jayne Barnes?”
Her breath caught in her throat. This was it, the moment she’d been dreading. She turned to find an armed guard bearing down on her.
“Yes?”
“Come this way. You’re expected.”
The gates swung open, and her eyes widened. She squeezed Noah’s hand a little tighter. She could still run, she supposed, scoop Noah up and make a break for it, but someone had already snatched her bags and was whisking them up the drive.
“I, ah—I wasn’t expecting—”
The guard frowned. “Ma’am. His Majesty is waiting.”
His Majesty? Her heart skipped a beat. Just who was this Danny Halabi, and what could he possibly want with her? She picked Noah up and clutched him to her chest. She hadn’t signed up for this, palaces and princes and carbine-toting guards, but what choice did she have? She’d ditched her job, sublet her place, and all her worldly possessions had just vanished inside the palace.
She followed the guard in a daze, barely aware of Noah tying knots in her hair. The spires of the palace rose, dizzying, to the sky, giving her vertigo in reverse. Outside, the heat was oppressive; inside, the cool turned her sweat to gooseflesh. Her head spun as the guard marched her across a cavernous great hall, down a shady line of cloisters, to a room so grand it had a fountain in it. The south wall was all glass and towering French doors, opening onto a magnificent terrace.
“Through there,” said the guard. “The royal family is waiting on the terrace.”
Noah kicked at her side, wanting to be put down, but Jayne clutched him closer as she made her way outside. Her steps slowed as she caught sight of the royal family, two men and two women, all dressed to the nines, all staring at her. One of the women was smiling. One of the men appeared to be texting. The other, in traditional Middle Eastern robes, rose and gestured for her to join them.
“Please. Make yourself comfortable. I trust you had a safe trip?”
“I...did?” She made her way to the table and sat down. Noah wriggled out of her arms, and she grabbed for him, but he was already halfway to the garden.
“It’s okay,” said one of the women. “There’s nothing breakable out here. Let him have some fun.”
“Thanks, ah—I didn’t catch your name?”
“Fiona Halabi.” She smiled, wide and warm. “And this is my husband Bashar, king of Al-Mifadhir, and his brother Chadil.”
“And my wife, Raina,” said Chadil. He slipped his phone into his pocket and took Raina’s hand instead. “And you’re Jayne Barnes. Danyal’s fiancée.” A strange expression crossed his face, somewhere between annoyance and amusement. “Care to explain how that happened?”
A hot flush rose in Jayne’s cheeks. “This is embarrassing,” she said.
“Life is embarrassing,” said Fiona. “Don’t worry. I’m sure we’ve heard worse.”
“Thanks. That’s kind of you to say.” Jayne smiled, a little nervously. The king was terrifying, staring her down like a rabbit he planned to roast for his dinner, but Fiona she liked. She had a down-to-earth quality about her—Jayne would’ve bet she was a mom. She swallowed hard and launched in. “Okay, there’s this website, loveatfirstsite.com, and you can go on there...it’s like mail-order brides. You do a personality quiz, upload your picture, and it matches you with, uh....” She trailed off, feeling silly. “It matched me with Danny Halabi.”
“Our little brother,” said Chadil. He rubbed his hands together. “Was there some sort of contract? Any paperwork you could show us?”
“Yeah.” She reached into her purse and pulled out the envelope, pink and covered in hearts. Chadil took it and skimmed its contents, tutting to himself as he did.
“All right. We’ll get legal on this. In the meantime, do you know anyone in Al-Mifadhir? Any family you’d like to see?”
“No. I sort of—” Gave up everything and flew halfway around the world to marry some strange prince. She bit her lip, mortified. It had seemed like a reasonable plan at the time, curled up on her broken-backed old couch with a stack of overdue bills at her elbow, but here in the cold light of day, with the royal family eyeing her up, she felt ridiculous.
“You know us,” said Fiona, riding to the rescue once again. “And of course, you’ll be our guest till we’ve got this situation straightened out.”
“Thank you,” said Jayne. “I’m Jayne Barnes—well, I guess you know that. And my son here is—” Jayne’s heart leapt into her throat. Noah was nowhere to be seen, not on the terrace, not in the garden, not trying to climb in the fountain. “Noah!”
“Don’t panic,” said Raina. “This whole place is childproofed. Wherever he’s gone—”
“Anyone here lose a munchkin?”
Jayne spun on her heel, the breath going out of her in a rush as she spied Noah in a stranger’s arms, happily munching on a cookie. She crossed the terrace in two bounds, relief warring with horror in her heart. If she’d told Noah once, she’d told him a thousand times, no taking treats from strangers, much less clambering into their arms. Not that the man holding Noah screamed stranger danger. He was tall and good looking with a mop of black hair and a sweet, boyish grin. He had a cast on one arm and was cradling Noah in the other, balancing him on his hip as if he’d been doing it all his life. But the serial killers always appeared harmless.
“I found him fishing in the fountain,” he said. “Said he was hungry, so I got him a snack. I hope that’s not a problem.”
“Not at all,” said Jayne, settling Noah on her own hip. “But he told you he was hungry? And you understood him?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Just the way he talks...” She chuckled. “His brain runs ahead of his mouth, and his tongue’s always tripping, trying to catch up.”
“Well, I caught his meaning just fine.” The guy stuck out his hand. “I’m Danyal Halabi. And you are?”
“Jayne. Nice to—” The words died on her lips as her own brain caught up with her mouth. Danyal. Danny. This was her fiancé, the catfishing prince, though she supposed he hadn’t lied, exactly. He did look athletic, just like it said on his profile, and his smile told her the “friendly” part was true. And he was hot, magazine-cover hot, even dressed down with his hair flying everywhere.
“Something wrong?” He tipped his head to one side.
“No. It just took me a moment. You’re Danny. My fiancé.”
“Fiancé?” His brows shot up, and he glanced at Chadil. “Don’t tell me. Let me guess. Aunt Zenab’s at it again?”
“Oh, no. This one’s all on you.” Chadil rose from his seat. “Loveatfirstsite.com. Sound familiar?"
"Love at First...what?” Danny looked bewildered, gaze darting from Jayne to Chadil and back again. He took a step back, hands raised. “Okay, whatever’s going on, I swear it wasn’t me.”
Jayne shrank in on herself, wishing she could disappear. Bad enough she’d turned her life upside down for a man she’d never met. Now he’d never heard of her? She’d gone over the contract a hundred times, even had a law-student friend look at it, and she’d been sure, so sure...
“Someone’s playing a joke,” said Danny, echoing Jayne’s thoughts. “I’d never—”
“A twenty-thousand-dollar joke?” Chadil thrust the contract into his hands. “Because that’s what they charge. What you paid them, plus this lady’s airfare.”
Danny glanced at the contract, shrugged, and handed it back. “Your guess is as good as mine,” he said. He caught Jayne’s eye and smiled, charming and a little conspiratorial. She couldn’t help but smile back, weird as the situation was. Danny turned back to Chadil.
“Listen, we obviously have a lot to talk about. Why doesn’t someone get these two settled while we get to the bottom of it? Jayne must be exhausted, and I’m sure the kid could use some lunch.”
“Lan,” yelped Noah, and Jayne’s heart did a flutter. For a man who’d just been presented with a surprise fiancée and her hungry toddler, he was remarkably considerate.
“Your quarters are already prepared,” said Fiona, smoothing her skirts as she stood. She crossed the room, graceful as a swan, and leaned down to talk to Noah. “What would you say to a nice, bouncy bed?”
Noah babbled something, and Fiona giggled.
“Enthusiastic, isn’t he?”
“He loves life,” agreed Jayne. “How old’s yours? I’m guessing you have—”
“Graham. He’s creeping up on two.” Fiona’s face lit up, pure happiness shining in her eyes. “About the same age as yours, I’d say. We’ll have to set them up on a playdate.”
“Noah would love that.” Jayne glanced over her shoulder as Fiona led her from the room. Danny caught her eye and winked, offering Noah a little wave. Noah waved back with both hands, trilling a cheerful bububye. That set Jayne’s heart racing again, the warmth of Danny’s smile, his easy rapport with her son, not to mention his rakish good looks. Even passing him on the street, she’d have stopped for a second look, but here in the palace, out of her element, he felt like an ally. A champion. Someone who might just stand up for her if everything went belly-up.
Fiona kept up a steady chatter as they wended their way through the palace, mostly pointing out the sights to Noah, but Jayne found herself distracted. Her thoughts kept skipping back to Danny, how he’d held Noah so naturally, thought of her comfort before his own. He was everything his profile had promised, and a prince to boot.
Was it so crazy to imagine she’d felt a spark?
2
It hit him about two seconds after Jayne left the terrace, that night on the yacht, him and Azar and Zayn. That ridiculous website. But they’d actually hit Send? Posted his profile? Charged his credit card? How had he missed that? He sat down abruptly, hangover roaring back full force. Last night hadn’t been as wild as that night, but he’d knocked back a few, and he was feeling it now, a sourness in his stomach, a red throbbing behind his eyes. His arm throbbed too, where he’d broken it doing parkour, and he cradled it to his chest.
“Mail-order brides, now?” Bas leaned forward, shaking his head. “When I look into this, what
am I going to find?”
Danny’s head spun. He wasn’t sure. “It was weeks ago,” he said. “I thought...”
“You thought what?” Chadil’s voice was sharp, and too close for comfort. Danny stifled a groan.
“I didn’t think they were serious.”
“Who?”
“Azar and Zayn.” He rubbed his temples, rallying his wits. “I thought they were kidding. They were reading these questions—Do you believe in astrology? Are you a morning person or a night person?—I thought they were signing me up for Scientology at first.”
“And you’d have let them do that?” Bas had his dad face on, two parts disapproval, one part stern warning. Danny looked away.
“Of course not. Of course I wouldn’t. But the test was fun. The questions were hilarious, and we were—” He shut his mouth with a snap. What Bas didn’t know couldn’t hurt him.
“Drunk,” said Chadil. “That’s what you were about to say, isn’t it? You were three sheets to the wind, and you let your idiot friends sign you up for this—this meat market. What were you thinking?”
Danny closed his eyes. The night came back to him in wisps and snatches, little moments that danced before his eyes. He saw Azar uncorking that Macallan ’46, Zayn dancing with some French girl, her blonde hair catching the light. He’d been on his phone, texting—
“Danyal.” Bas snapped his fingers, about two inches from Danny’s nose. “I need to know exactly what happened before I take this to our lawyers.”
The Sheikh’s Mail-Order Bride: Halabi Sheikhs Book Three Page 1