Calla wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “It’ll get easier. I promise.”
“We never even talked about what we would do,” Willow went on. “I mean, we’re engaged right now. But do we get married? Do we carry this out? I can hardly imagine there are emergency Knocked-Up-By-The-Sheikh visas, so what can I use to stay here if I don’t marry him?”
“We’ll figure that out,” Calla reassured her, guiding her toward the front door. “Let’s just check out this apartment and see if it’s all it’s cracked up to be.” She jerked her chin toward the thicket of roses by the front door. “Though it’s off to a good start.”
Calla knocked, and the landlady opened the door a moment later. She guided them in, speaking in excited Amatbahn about meeting the queen, and the first few minutes of the visit was spent in the doorway, politely smiling as the landlady rambled on about some encounter her daughter-in-law had had with King Fatim seven years prior.
Willow was ready to wilt. It was part pregnancy, part sadness. The landlady must have noticed, because she shut up and led them into the living room. Willow looked around, noticing that the place looked technically perfect—already furnished, a basic TV, comfy-looking couches, minimal art on the walls.
But as Willow-ready as it was, the very idea of an apartment still meant leaving behind the hope that she and Nasser could make it work.
“If you prefer to bring your own furniture,” the landlady said, still casting overly friendly smiles toward Calla, “we can move this out of here. No problem at all. Just let us know what you prefer. We aim to please.”
Willow snickered under her breath. Footsteps sounded in the entryway a moment later, and the landlord gasped.
“Sheikh Nasser!”
Willow whipped around. Nasser stood in the doorway, looking a little out of breath. His dark eyes were focused on Willow, and the attention made her wilt. She gripped Calla’s arm for support.
“Nasser?” Calla asked. “What are you doing here?”
“Sorry I’m late,” he said, stepping slowly into the house. To the landlady, he said, “Is it okay if I come in? My fiancée wanted to view this apartment on her own, but I’d really love to accompany her.”
Willow’s throat tightened not just at his words, but at the sight of him. Sturdy and lean, his tightly cropped black hair, that day-old scruff that could turn her legs into Jell-O. Calla squeezed her hand, sending her a secret message of support.
“How did you know about this?” Willow demanded.
Nasser sent her one of his heart-stopping grins. “The calendar, duh.”
She sighed, turning away from him. “I don’t need you to make fun of it. Calla, did you tell him about this?”
“No,” she blurted. “I swear to you.”
“She didn’t,” Nasser affirmed. “And I’m not teasing you. I actually opened the calendar and looked at every single thing you wrote down.”
“Well, good. I guess. What do you want?” Willow asked, unable to look at him; instead she stared at the corner of the brown leather couch. She’d hang onto that corner for dear life. It might be the only thing anchoring her against the tears.
“We can move into the kitchen…” the landlady started.
“Great idea,” Calla chirped, moving ahead. Over her shoulder, she hissed, “You two stay here and talk.”
Willow crossed her arms, as if it might help against his charms. Oh lord, did she need help. Nasser came closer, the unmistakable scent of him reaching her, nearly driving her to her knees. He touched her elbow, so she jerked away. She wouldn’t make this easy for him, no matter how much she wanted to dissolve into his arms.
“I deserve this,” he said softly.
“Yes, you do,” she said, and then she broke down into tears.
Nasser’s arms were around her without hesitation. He squeezed her into a solid, loving hug, one that prompted even more tears, because she could feel again just how perfect he was with her. The feel of him, the scent of him, the unequivocal knowing that emanated from him. He was hers and she was his. It was supposed to be. So when would it finally be?
“I’m sorry,” he murmured into the top of her head, starting a slow sway back and forth. “I’ve been a real asshole.”
The confession made her cry even harder. She wrapped her arms around his waist and sobbed. “Yes, you have been.”
“I want to make it up to you,” he said. “Any way I can. I started with using the calendar, which honestly, I kind of love. I’ll keep making it up to you by building you the nursery of our dreams. And I’ll finish making it up to you by being here, for the rest of our lives, in every way I can.”
She sniffed, tilting her chin to look at him. “Really?”
He nodded, brushing his thumb over her cheek to wipe away a tear. “Yes, babe. You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved. You’re the only woman I ever will love. I just want to be with you. Even if it’s hard for me sometimes. Even if I make the wrong choices or try to push you away. I’m working on it, I swear. I know what’s important to me. And it’s you. And our baby.”
His words pushed her into a sobbing mess, and she could only cling to him as she cried. He stroked the top of her head, shushing her gently. In the distance, she was aware that Calla and the landlady had returned.
“She’s fine,” Calla was saying. “Just pregnant.”
“And, babe?” Nasser urged her to look at him again, then kissed away the tears that had tracked down her cheeks. “I have one more question.”
“What is it?” she mumbled through tears.
He wet his bottom lip, suddenly looking nervous. He fished something out of his pocket and then released her from his embrace. He sank to one knee. Looking up at her, his face shone with an emotion that she’d never even seen before. Something like elation and pride and certainty all wrapped up into one.
“Willow,” he began, his voice trembling. “Will you marry me? For real and forever?”
Willow slapped a hand to her mouth. She could only gape and cry. Behind her, the landlady squealed.
“Of course,” Willow said, blinking out tears as fast as they came. “Of course I will. I love you, Nasser.”
Nasser surged to his feet and wrapped her in a hug. Then he jerked backward. “Oh, shit. The ring. Put it on, babe. I want to see how it looks on you.”
Willow laughed as he fumbled with nervous hands to pluck the ring out of the box and slide it onto her finger. The round diamond glinted gorgeous and luxurious, far larger than she could have even fathomed. She hiccuped with a sob, clamping her hand over her mouth again.
“Oh my god,” she wailed.
“Do you like it?” Nasser asked.
“I love it!” she moaned, collapsing into his arms again.
“And to think this proposal happened in my own home!” the landlord cried. “I can rent this out for more now, don’t you think?”
“Ho-ly shit!” Calla bounded up to them a moment later, looking between the two of them. “Are you serious right now?”
Nasser laughed, slinging his arm around Willow. “Completely serious, Calla.”
“How come you didn’t tell me?” she asked, shoving his shoulder. “Here I was, counseling her to move the hell on.”
Nasser’s glee didn’t even dim at that comment. “You should have. A smart woman would counsel the same.”
Willow buried her head in the crook of his shoulder. “I love you, Nasser. I only wanted to be with you. I didn’t want this apartment.” Through blurry eyes, she caught the look on the landlady’s face. “It’s very lovely from what I’ve seen so far. I just mean, my real home is at the palace.”
“Or anywhere else you like,” Nasser said softly. “I found your escape folder on your laptop. If you’d rather live abroad…we can work something out, babe. I swear. Just let me know, okay?”
She looked up at him, knitting her brows together. “My escape folder is for vacations.”
“But…” Nasser narrowed his eyes. “I found the links about
long-term European visas.”
She swatted that away. “Oh, Nasser, that was a moment in time. Probably a year ago, I was looking into moving abroad. But I didn’t know what I was doing. I was just curious.”
His mouth rounded, and then he nodded. “Okay. Yeah. Let’s do everything in that folder, then.”
Finally, a giggle erupted from her, some of the heavy emotions beginning to clear. “We’ll have plenty of time.”
“A whole lifetime,” Nasser confirmed and then surged forward to capture her lips in a kiss.
Epilogue
ONE YEAR LATER
Willow closed her eyes and smiled into the sun. The Caribbean breeze was like a balm for everything and anything. Feeling down? Get outside. Feeling bloated? Also get outside.
Feeling like getting married?
Take it to the Caribbean.
Nasser squeezed her hand, bringing her back to reality. She inhaled deeply, looking up at him, finding pure joy written on his features.
This getaway cruise/wedding had been partially her idea, partially his. The Caribbean cruise theme had been lifted from her escape folder. Waiting until their baby girl Daliah joined the world before tying the knot—that was Nasser’s idea.
Because this daddy couldn’t do a damn thing without his baby girl at his side. A fact he caught onto pretty quickly once Willow’s belly started popping and the whole thing became real. And now that she was here, the wriggling, happy-go-lucky six-month-old, Nasser was attached at the hip to his little girl.
Just as Willow had planned.
“Everyone is waiting for us,” Nasser said, the wind whipping through his longish hair as he hoisted Daliah in his arms. She cooed, reaching for his chin. “We should get down there.”
“Okay.” She squeezed her arms around him, pressing a kiss to Daliah’s cheek. “Let’s go celebrate our marriage.”
The three of them wandered down from the top deck, where they’d been contemplating the impending sunset. The sun still blazed red and bloated on the horizon, but it wouldn’t be long before it sank out of view. They’d wanted their wedding to happen just like this. Wild and free and sexy. A moment of contemplation after the hullabaloo of exchanging vows and making it official. The diamond ring sparkled on her left hand, and she couldn’t believe she was finally Mrs. Nasser Safar.
Three and a half years ago, she couldn’t have imagined their love story actually working out.
But here it was. The most inspiring love story she’d ever heard.
“You look incredible,” Nasser said for probably the fifth time that evening. She’d made sure of it too, with the help of Calla and Vanessa handling the dress and make-up respectively. No longer did she look like the frumpy school administrator she sometimes felt like. Because filling one of her own school vacancies, taking on a long-term role with the school, sometimes left her feeling as harried as any of the teachers. But out here, on the open sea, having just married the love of her life? She felt every inch a sheikha.
The trio went to the lower deck, where the festivities had already begun. The chairs and altar had been cleared away and replaced with small tables for dining. A trio of violins played music—currently, it was a rendition of Ariana Grande, which made Willow smile.
Fatim and Calla were there with their three children, dancing to the music. Amad and Vanessa hung off to the side with their little girl; Vanessa’s growing belly threatened to pop any day now. The due date was so near they’d brought the royal midwife along. Just in case.
Willow’s own family had made the trip—her parents and her younger sister, who had been cancer-free for a full two years now. They looked happier than she’d ever seen them. Caribbean winds could make anyone feel better. A small handful of family friends littered the occasion as well. A champagne bottle popped, and cheers erupted as Willow and Nasser joined the fray.
“To the newlyweds!” someone cried out, and everyone lifted their champagne glasses. Willow giggled, picking up a champagne glass as well. She was still breastfeeding, but a little sip wouldn’t hurt. Not on this special day, surrounded by her family and friends.
“To the forever-weds,” Nasser added, grinning at her as he lifted his glass.
“To my only love,” Willow whispered, and she folded forward to find the sweetest, most delicate kiss waiting for her on Nasser’s lips.
This was what was it was about.
True love.
Real compromise.
And being supported every inch of the way by family and friends.
Could a girl be any luckier? She grinned as Nasser raised his glass and demanded everyone tap on their glasses again with the forks, so he could lean back in and kiss her some more.
No. She couldn’t be any luckier. She could only fall deeper in love from here.
End of The Sheikh’s Sham Engagement
The Safar Sheikhs Series Book Three
The Sheikh’s Wife Arrangement, 15 August 2019
The Sheikh’s Instant Family, 22 August 2019
The Sheikh’s Sham Engagement, 29 August 2019
PS: Do you love playboy billionaires? Then keep reading for an exclusive extract from The Sheikh’s Tempting Assistant.
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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
Leslie Bliss is an assistant location scout with no sense of direction—which is how she got stuck with a faulty GPS and the job of scouting sand dunes rather than the oasis her boss is currently viewing. With the sun going down and Leslie seriously worrying for her life, she stumbles across a tent that looks more like a palace than a campsite. Dehydrated and burnt, it seems like salvation—until men wearing desert garb and toting AK47’s ride out in jeeps to gather her.
Sheikh Raheem can barely believe his luck when an American woman is brought into his tent. He is passionate about his country’s natural splendor, but its PR is in desperate need of a makeover—perhaps as much as the dirty beauty in front of him. He makes an offer: Leslie, with her eye for finding the beauty in a location, will help him craft a campaign promoting his country, and when she completes the project he’ll send her back to America with a paycheck she can live on for years. Seeing a chance for financial freedom, Leslie jumps at the opportunity.
As Raheem shows off the magnificence of his land, Leslie finds herself getting swept into a fairy tale full of palaces, five-star luxury, and the most sensuous sex she’s ever experienced. Though she values her independence, the temptation to stay—not just for Raheem, but for the beautiful country that isn’t getting the attention it deserves—holds her in place. But when the country’s natural treasures are threatened, Raheem and Leslie must decide what means more to them: their love for one another or their original plans.
Grab your copy of The Sheikh’s Tempting Assistant
(Sheikh’s Meddling Sisters Book One) here.
* * *
EXCERPT
Chapter One
“What I need is a ringer,” Sheikh Raheem bin Haik al Nazari said, reclining back on his chaise lounge in the middle of the desert of his small country, Djeva. Twilight had settled over the landscape, bathing everything in soft shades of deepening purples and blues. Quite lovel
y. He took a deep breath of fresh air and closed his eyes, seeking a bit of the relaxation that had been so elusive on this trip.
“A ring? Did I hear that right?” his eldest sister Jessenia said, undisguised interest edging her tone. After the death of their father earlier in the year, Jess had taken it upon herself to assume the role that up until then had been the sole province of their beloved mother—boss of everyone and everything. “Don’t tell me you’ve finally decided to settle down and start a family after all my months of prodding.”
Raheem sighed and shook his head. “No. That’s not what I said. And you know as well as I do that marriage is not even on my radar right now. I’ve got too many other projects to work on at the moment. I said I need a ‘ringer’, not a ring. Someone with no skin in the game to help me strategize.”
‘The game’ was his grand scheme to use his country’s ever-growing wealth from tourism to fund a much-needed wildlife preserve. There were several species of cats, camels, and birds that could only be found here in Djeva. He felt it was his duty and calling to ensure their survival for generations to come.
“Bah.” Jess gave a dismissive wave of her hand, her white silk robes blowing softly in the breeze. Honestly, she even looked like their mother Zuhra—dark hair and eyes, smooth golden skin, short and slightly more rounded than his other sisters. And dedicated to trying to run the lives of her six siblings. “You spend too much time working and too little time playing, brother. What you need is to find the right woman to show you how wonderful love can be. You’ve always been far too competitive for your own good, Raheem.”
That last sentence was probably true, he admitted to himself. Even if the rest was hogwash. Of course, being the youngest of three sons did that to a man. From the day he’d become aware of his family’s rank and importance, Raheem had felt like he was playing catch-up. Catching up to his father, who had been a good father, but not such a great leader, made the task of Raheem and the rest of his family that much harder. Their goal now was to run the country with fairness, honesty, and a relentless drive to make Djeva the international finance and commerce center of their small area of the Arab region. Too bad their father hadn’t given the running of his country the same level of time and consideration. He’d passed away the previous year and left the country in the hands of Raheem and his two older brothers.
The Sheikh’s Sham Engagement: The Safar Sheikhs Series Book Three Page 10