by Leslie North
The Sheikh’s Surprise Triplets
Azhar Sheikhs Book Three
Leslie North
Contents
Azhar Sheikhs
The Sheikh’s Surprise Triplets
Blurb
Mailing List
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
Epilogue
End of The Sheikh’s Surprise Triplets
Thank You!
Sneak Peek
Azhar Sheikhs
The Sheikh’s Fake Fiancée
The Sheikh’s Pregnant Fling
The Sheikh’s Surprise Triplets
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, JULY 2017
Copyright © 2017 Relay Publishing Ltd.
All rights reserved. Published in the United Kingdom by Relay Publishing.
No part of this book may be reproduced, published, distributed, displayed, performed, copied or stored for public or private use in any information retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any mechanical, photographic or electronic process, including electronically or digitally on the Internet or World Wide Web, or over any network, or local area network, without written permission of the author
Cover Design by LJ Anderson of Mayhem Cover Creations
www.relaypub.com
Blurb
Juliette’s life is work—she’s ruthless, determined, and has built a reputation for helping companies achieve their maximum potential. When she’s scouted by the royal Azhar family to assist the head of their tech division, Sheikh Basri Azhar, she’s eager for the challenge. The company is at a critical juncture, and it will be up to Juliette to keep the brash, young CEO on track. Shouldn’t be a problem—until Juliette meets Basri. He’s handsome, charismatic, and much harder to manage than she could have imagined. But Juliette won’t back down. She’s never met a boss she couldn’t tame.
Compared to his two older brothers, Basri has always been his father’s son. He values hard work and ingenuity, but he prefers an unstructured approach. Which is why Basri stays out of the office as much as possible. After all, he does his best thinking alone, outdoors in the Arabian wild. His new assistant Juliette, however, is like a force of nature. She’s beautiful, intelligent, and disciplined…and Basri has to constantly remind himself to keep it professional. But after weeks of Juliette trying to bend him to her will, Basri decides he has other plans.
When Basri invites her along on his next adventure, Juliette has no idea what she’s gotten herself into. But away from the board room and under the stars, Juliette begins to see the real Basri, and she can’t help wanting to see more…
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1
“Send her in.”
The curt command sent chills down Juliette’s spine. Since stepping off the plane in Beirut yesterday, a lot of things were giving her chills. The entire foreign landscape was awe-inspiring enough; add on the jaw-dropping matriarch who’d hired her on the spot during their Skype interview, and Juliette was pinching herself more than she cared to admit.
Safiyah—a name she’d pronounced in the mirror for far too long prior to that initial interview—sat behind a stark, wooden desk, her gaze sharp and her lip liner sharper. Juliette strode toward her over the white Berber carpet, holding out her hand, hoping her hair and makeup were still as on point as when she’d left her hotel room earlier.
“Mrs. Azhar. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person.” It was more than a pleasure, really. It was an all-expenses-paid trip to Lebanon to see if this new position really would work out.
Safiyah smiled coyly, her hand limp in Juliette’s grip. When Juliette dropped her hand, Safiyah stood, leaning over the desk, prompting a kiss on the cheek. “This is how we do it here, my dear.”
Juliette leaned forward awkwardly, pressing an air kiss to Safiyah’s cheek. She sat in the empty chair in front of the desk, absent-mindedly checking one of the bobby pins holding up her dark auburn bun.
“I suppose I’ll have to get used to some things, if I’ll be moving here.” Juliette smoothed the front of her skirt, the weight of this first meet-and-greet bearing down on her. Everything had seemed so solid and sure from her apartment—soon-to-be former apartment—back in New York City, when she’d still had her cushy job with the software firm. That was back when her career still had more rungs to ascend.
And now, here she was: at the top of the ladder. Looking down. Wondering how the hell she’d gotten up here, and if she’d packed a parachute.
“I took the liberty of calling your previous employers,” Safiyah began, opening a drawer to extract some papers. She placed them in front of her, her catlike-grin never wavering. “They all agree that your influence at Dawson Technologies had a large role in turning that firm around. You’ve truly made a name for yourself.”
Juliette blinked. “Well, I’ve spent five good years with Mr. Dawson, but his company is in great shape now. I felt it was time to move on.”
“I’m pleased you chose Azhar Soft Works as your next step.” Safiyah’s smile widened. “Or rather, your next step chose you.”
It was true—Juliette had barely put her availability out on the job network before Safiyah contacted her, requesting an interview. It was like the woman was a shark, hunting her before Juliette even knew she was bleeding out.
Safiyah slid some papers across the desk toward her. “My youngest son Basri is in charge at Soft Works, and he’s been met with many struggles. The largest of which is a board that doesn’t believe in him.”
Juliette nodded, concentrating on the papers while she spoke. “I can see how this puts him at a disadvantage.”
“Extremely. This is a critical time in the family’s direction, you see. A company recently announced their intent to purchase Basri’s division. If he cannot win over the board, the division will be sold. I would much rather see our business continue in its legacy than watch it be inadvertently destroyed by my son’s lack of focus.”
Juliette sat straighter, as though showing Safiyah she could rise to the occasion. “This will be an extremely rewarding challenge, then. I assure you, I’ve never met an executive I couldn’t whip into shape.”
Safiyah nodded, as though this confirmed something for her. “I should warn you, the members of the board don’t understand him. Without proper guidance, Basri may find them turning on him. Which, of course, could result in him losing not only the company, but his job.”
“That will be the last thing you have to worry about,” Juliette said, snagging Safiyah’s gaze. Given how much money Safiyah had offered her for this new position, only complete success would do.
Safiyah watched h
er for a moment, nervousness glancing across her face for the briefest of moments. “Our family is counting on it.” Juliette’s belly knotted, but she didn’t let it show. “We already discussed salary, but I should add there will be a considerable bonus if you can turn this around and get Basri on track.” Safiyah shuffled through her papers again, eyebrow creased as she hunted for something. “One that will make your time more than worth it. Perhaps even doubly so.”
Juliette’s breath caught in her throat. The promise of a windfall headed her way was always a nice touch. “Thank you for your generosity. I just hope that my work will please everyone involved. At the end of the day, I look forward to the adventure and the challenge of it all. The bonus is, well, just a bonus.”
“It sounds like we have a deal.” Safiyah’s grin returned, and she slid a few papers across the desk. “If you’d be so kind, my dear…sign here.”
Juliette picked up the pen without hesitation and scrawled a loopy version of her name at the bottom of the contract.
The hollow bounce of the table tennis ball was a steady rhythm, like a metronome to their conversation. Basri and Ramon had been bouncing this ball back and forth for over half an hour while they brainstormed the newest project to add to Azhar Soft Works’ summer lineup.
“I think you should expedite this one.” Ramon leapt to hit the ball back to him. “This is a good idea.”
“We say that every time we come out here to brainstorm.” Basri grinned, softly returning the ball. The easy repetition of the game was the perfect conduit for a meditative creative trance. The two of them could brainstorm their way out of a hold-up when the flow was high.
“Wow.” Ramon straightened, distractedly paddling the ball back to him. “Does she work here?”
Basri glanced across the large, open room, half-focused on returning the ball. To the right were cubicles and work pods dotting the expansive third floor of Azhar Soft Works. Coming down the hallway toward them was a brown-haired goddess, striding confidently in heels and a well-fitted blouse, hugging curves that made Basri almost drop his paddle.
“Not to my knowledge,” he said, turning back just in time to return the ball. “You’d think I’d remember someone like that.”
Ramon swore and leapt to bat it back to him, eyes darting between the game and the approaching woman. Basri hit the ball back and glanced over his shoulder, his gaze meeting the scorching green eyes of the mystery woman.
“Ha. My point!” Ramon’s triumphant voice cut through Basri’s reverie as he realized he’d totally missed the return swing while watching the approaching angel.
Basri sighed, tossing his paddle on the table. “Not fair.”
Ramon straightened, a smile covering his face as he looked at something over Basri’s shoulder. He turned to see the woman approaching them, one eyebrow lifted.
“Excuse me, gentlemen.” Her confident voice felt like a whip on his knuckles, one that he was dying to feel more of. “I’m looking for Basri Azhar. Have either of you seen or heard from him?”
Ramon chuckled. “Not in ages.”
Basri opened his mouth to respond, but the newcomer interrupted him. “Might be good for you two, then. The boss probably wouldn’t like to see you playing ping pong.”
The delightfully western term reverberated through him. Basri grinned, unable to hide it.
“Nah, the boss is pretty oblivious,” Ramon went on, twirling his paddle between his hands. “He wouldn’t care even if he knew.”
Basri sent him a look, wondering when he should end this silly charade. He opened his mouth again but the woman went on.
“Well listen, I really need to find him.” Her use of the term “ping pong” had outed her as a foreigner, but her high-productivity impatience pegged her as an American in his book. “I’m Mr. Azhar’s new personal assistant, but I can’t even find him. I’ve sent him e-mails, texts, and I’ve called him about twenty times.”
Basri cleared his throat. Yes, he vaguely remembered new alerts on his phone, but he just hadn’t gotten to them yet. There were so many things he was meaning to get to…
“I can help you,” Basri blurted, offering a smile. “I’ll take you to his office straight away. I’m sure he’ll be back any minute.”
Ramon’s grin was ear to ear as Basri stepped away from the table tennis match.
“Ma’am, your name?” Ramon offered his hand.
“Juliette.” She offered a creamy hand, nails tipped with black nail polish. Everything about this woman made him want to lick her from head to toe. “I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself. It’s been a trying morning.”
“Understood. I’m Ramon. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Ramon all but brought the back of her hand up to his lips, and Basri cleared his throat, ushering them along.
“Wouldn’t want you to wait any more than is necessary,” he said, heading for the hallway. “Come now. I’ll give you a quick tour on the way.”
Juliette followed him, and he strode purposefully, gesturing toward the work pods to their right. “This is the ideation pod. Strong link between creative output and frequent breaks, hence the proximity to table tennis.” He glanced back at her. “Or as you called it, ping pong.”
“I assume this is your division, then?”
Basri fought a grin. “Not exactly.” He rounded a corner, gesturing to a set of high-walled cubicles. “This is where some of our designers work. But you can find most of them grouped in the standing offices at the far edge of the building. They tend to not like to be cooped up.”
Juliette nodded, her heels clicking in rhythm behind him. “Makes sense. Is the CEO’s office on a different floor? I was told to come here.”
“You’re on the right floor.” Basri rounded another corner, bringing her down a short hallway ending with a door marked CEO. “This is his office.”
Juliette’s brow crinkled. “Shouldn’t it be on the executive floor?”
“He believes that designers and engineers are the true heart of this company. He doesn’t like to be far away from the heart.” He smiled, his hand on the knob. “He’s like an artery.”
Juliette blinked at him, almost eye-level with him. “Oh, great.”
“What?”
She sighed. “It’s a noble sentiment, but it seems I have my work cut out for me.”
Basri swallowed the knee-jerk defense and pushed open the door, guiding her inside. “Take a seat. He’ll be back shortly, I assure you.”
Juliette stepped inside, Basri unable to look away from the tight melons of her ass cheeks while she headed for the chair. He shut the door quietly, mind ablaze with questions.
What was mother thinking?
Basri paced the outer hallway, a breath away from calling his mother and demanding an explanation. Of course, she’d told him she was searching for an adequate assistant, but she’d never told him that assistant would be so gorgeous.
His last PA, Lana, had been quite beautiful, and Basri found himself tangled up with her after enough time. So tangled, in fact, that he’d practically had to cut himself out of that knot. Business and pleasure never mixed—he’d do well to remember that with Juliette.
But was it possible to separate the two, really?
Basri stilled, looking down the short hallway at his office door. The time had come. He had to out himself and take the reins on this new chapter of his office life.
He took a deep breath and strode toward the door, pushing inside, steeling himself for the backlash.
Juliette turned, a bright smile melting into a confused glare. “Where is Mr. Azhar? Is he avoiding me?”
“Well, he’s—”
“He can’t dodge me forever. I’m here to help run his company. Does he not understand what a PA is for?” Juliette huffed, fidgeting with her bun while she ranted. “Christ. I’ve never seen such an unprofessional first day.”
Basri grimaced, walking behind the desk, taking a seat in his plush leather chair. Maybe he deserved this. It would get them started o
n equal footing, at least.
Juliette eyed him suspiciously, but her expression turned into horror when he leaned over the desk and offered his hand.
“Let’s start from the beginning. I’m Basri Azhar. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Juliette gaped, eyes riveted on his hand. She was beautiful even when she was flustered.
Yes, this would be a very interesting chapter indeed.
2
By the end of Juliette’s first week on the job, the verdict was clear.
Working with Basri was like herding a cat on drugs.
And by Monday morning’s alarm, she wasn’t sure if she had the energy to continue to wrangle this beast.
She rolled out of bed with a groan, the dark outlines of her new apartment still foreign. The studio apartment was cute and bright in the daytime, with a balcony looking out to the sea. It was exactly what she’d dreamt of, minus the smoking hot boss with a penchant for ignoring everything wise and sane she had to recommend.
Bleary-eyed, she groped her way to the bathroom and flicked the light on, squinting against the sudden flood of light. She and her sister had planned to make Monday mornings their weekly chat time. Seven a.m. in Beirut was just before her sister typically went to bed on the east coast back home after her bartending gig. Juliette brushed her teeth quickly, staring at the Arabic-labeled toothpaste with a grin.
It was such a pleasure to be bathed in a new culture, learning a new language, seeing new sights on her daily commute. Five years in Manhattan had been fun, but she’d been more than ready for the change. And more than change, the upward mobility.