The Sheikh's Surprise Triplets (Azhar Sheikhs Book 3)

by Leslie North

  Five tall men in olive drab clothes and clunky black boots approached, rifles over their shoulders. They wore scowls, and the strange patterns on their vests looked military. Juliette kept her eyes down and a scarf over her hair, hanging back with Anna. Everyone had fallen to their knees, something of the practice when these guys came around, Juliette gathered.

  The men scanned the villagers and then barked out some commands in Georgian. Two of the village men scampered away and returned with armfuls of fabrics and goose down items they’d collected as their pay-off to the thugs when they came—also part of Basri’s plan. One of the soldiers neared Basri at the front, peering at him as if he were a circus animal.

  Once the thugs received their pay-off, some of the villagers began to relax. Basri got to his feet, as if he intended to wander off. He bumped into one of the thugs, causing him to swivel and shout at him in Georgian.

  Basri played the fool, but the thug whacked him across the face with the butt of his rifle. Juliette stifled a scream, heart breaking as she watched him crumple to the ground. Anna clutched at her hand, as though to still her. The thug loomed over Basri, who stayed on the ground, raising his hand in surrender. Then he spun on his heel and joined the others in their truck. They drove off a moment later.

  Once the coast was clear, the men helped Basri stand; he grinned like a buffoon. Juliette rushed over to him, sobs choking her throat.

  “What the hell were you thinking?” She shook him by the shoulders, angry at his silly smile. Maybe the thug had knocked half his brain out with that rifle.

  “It was the plan.” His right eye was swollen, a nasty red mark appearing above his brow. He held up a walkie-talkie, grinning as if he’d just discovered gold. “This is what I lured them here for. We can call home now.”

  Juliette’s mouth fell open, and she wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. “You are the craziest man I have ever met,” she murmured, before smothering him in kisses, knocking him back onto the ground.

  Basri worked until sunset, and then he worked by the dim light of the fire to make sure all the pieces and parts of his plan were in place. The hit to his head still ached, but it was worth it if he could save this village—and Juliette and himself. Occasionally he had to pause and rest his eyes; the combination of focus and eye strain aggravated the swelling. He finally lay down to sleep only when he couldn’t resist any longer, but he arose at the first sign of dawn.

  He’d managed to establish his tower in the tree, and with his walkie-talkie and amplification system in a pack on his back, he ascended slowly. The higher he climbed, the more stunning the sunrise—a heavenly view of rolling green mountains, a daybreak that could make angels weep. As the red and orange scorched across the clear sky, Basri put the final touches on his tower.

  Once the morning shone bright and clear, people began to gather at the base of the tree. He caught snippets of their laughter and words—no doubt they’d gathered to see the results of his experiment. And then, one voice clearer than all the rest: “Basri, you better not fucking hurt yourself up there!”

  He smiled, peering down to catch a glimpse of his Juliette. He couldn’t see her through the thick branches, but he shouted down anyway. “I won’t! I promise!”

  Basri fiddled with his system, and then turned the walkie-talkie on. Something crackled through the speaker. It sounded like static until he moved a part of the tower and something else came through. Words. But…he furrowed a brow, adjusting the metal again. More words. English words. He gasped, stilling as he listened closely. It sounded like air traffic control. His heart swelled with emotion, steadying his fingers as he prepared himself to send the message.

  Using the walkie-talkie, he tapped out a rudimentary message in Morse code—something to test if they’d even hear it but that wouldn’t be noticed on the militia’s own devices, or if it was noticed, not immediately understood. Through the speaker, the air traffic controller responded. His message had been received. Exhilaration thrilled through him, so much that he almost wavered. He drew a deep breath, focusing on all the Morse code he’d learned in school, preparing for the massive call for help.

  Sending his message took forever, but the response through the control tower was affirmative: they’d received his message, noting his call for help. After some back and forth, Basri sent their coordinates, requesting immediate pickup on Azhar Soft Works’ dime. The response crackled through: ETA one hour for rescue.

  Basri stared in disbelief at the walkie-talkie, tears pressing against his eyes. No way. No fucking way. He sniffed hard, letting the emotion subside, and then carefully shimmied down the tree, taking care not to disturb the tower, lest he need it again. On the ground, a crowd of villagers waited, with Juliette at the front, a baby on her hip.

  Her eyes were wide and fearful. He approached her slowly, opening his mouth, finding nothing at the ready.

  “Well?” Her voice came out small and tight. “What happened?”

  A smile broke across his face. “They’re coming. They’ll be here in an hour to pick us up.”

  Anna gasped, translating this for the rest of the crowd. Everyone broke out into cheers, and Basri hugged Juliette and Petre so tightly to his chest he thought they’d become one.

  15

  Juliette walked in a daze back to the hut with Basri at her side. This was a miracle. Basri was a miracle. Her face drooped and she slowed, remembering the babies. It was now or never. They had to come to a decision.

  “Basri.” She reached for his wrist and he turned to face her.

  “What’s wrong?” He creased a brow. He must have noticed her serious face.

  “I have to talk to you about something.” She swallowed hard, hoisting Petre higher on her hip. “The grandmother, she…well…” She sighed. It would be best to just come out and say it. “She wants me to take the triplets.”

  Basri nodded. “Yeah.” He kept nodding. “Yeah, that sounds like a great idea.”

  Her mouth hung open. “Do you mean…?”

  “We’ll take the triplets, if that’s her wish.” He nodded, rubbing a thumb over her cheek. “Of course.”

  Her eyes welled with tears and she smiled up at him. Of course. That’s exactly what she knew Basri would say. Because he was exactly that type of man. The type of man that she could love…and already did love.

  She squeezed his hand, not ready to confront these emotions. “We should say goodbye to her.”

  They walked toward Grandmother’s house, where Anna waited with a troubled look on her face. She’d been crying—tears stained her dusty cheeks. She urged them to go inside. “Please, say goodbye.”

  Juliette handed off Petre and went inside for the last time. Grandmother rested peacefully on the bed with a small smile on her face. Juliette kneeled at the bedside, taking grandmother’s hand in hers. It felt cold…strangely cold.

  She squeezed it, looking for a reaction. There was none. Realization streaked through her…she turned to Basri for confirmation. His worried eyes told her that he thought the same thing.

  “She’s gone,” Juliette said, meaning it more as a question than a statement. Basri nodded, his eyes welling with tears.

  Anna came in a moment later, kneeling beside Juliette, wrapping an arm around her waist. “I found her like that this morning.” She cried a little into her side.

  Juliette wrapped her arms around Anna, comforting her as best she could. The three of them mourned silently, staying for a long while at her bedside, until Petre began to whimper.

  “I should get them ready,” Juliette whispered, squeezing Grandmother’s hand one last time. “Anna, the helicopter is coming to take us. I’ll take the babies with us, like Grandmother asked…they should be here in an hour.”

  Anna nodded, her eyes rimmed red, looking like a sad fourteen-year-old instead of the mature adult she’d been forced to be while caring for these babies and guiding her and Basri. Sadness streaked through her. She couldn’t leave Anna behind, who was she kidding?

>   “You should come with us,” Juliette blurted, her eyes wide as she waited for a reaction. Anna watched her with a trembling lip, and then nodded, wrapping her arms around her waist.

  “Oh, yes, please. Please may I come with you?” Anna’s body shook as they hugged. Basri wrapped his arms around the two of them, kissing the tops of both their heads.

  “It will be perfect if you join us, Anna,” he said, his voice soft. “You are the triplets’ only living relative now. You can keep going to school. And you can help me help your village.”

  She nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Yes. Please, yes.”

  Juliette grinned, wiping away spilled tears from Anna’s face. “Then it’s settled. You’ll come with us. Let’s get everything ready.”

  There were a lot of things to prepare…and a lot of goodbyes to be said.

  The next morning, Basri and Juliette—plus four—landed at the helipad of Azhar Estates, where Safiyah and the household staff waited to greet them. On the helicopter ride from the village to the airport, and then on the plane to Lebanon, they had made a whirlwind of phone calls and updates. Between exhaustion and feedings and a quick airplane shower and more phone calls, Basri was simultaneously dead and also buzzing with anticipation. Once they dropped the triplets off, their first stop was Azhar Soft Works, where he’d formally address the staff about his absence...and the business’s new direction.

  Safiyah hugged Basri so long and hard that he almost stopped breathing on the helipad. She beamed at him, slipping the tiny package that he’d requested into his hands, just as he’d instructed in Arabic on the phone during the ride back. She then hugged Juliette the same way, whispering something into her ear. She greeted each baby and Anna as though she were already their grandmother. On their way into the house, Basri noticed Juliette take a call, lagging behind as she spoke.

  Inside the house, Basri instructed the staff to get a room ready for the babies when Juliette came in, looking dour.

  “Basri, we have an issue at the office.” Her tone told him the personal assistant in her had clicked back into place. “There’s a meeting going on right now with the company that wants to buy you out. We have to get over there immediately.”

  He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Fuck. They couldn’t even wait until I was declared dead?” He grabbed her hand, pulling her along with him. “Back to the helipad, darling.”

  He blew kisses to his mother on their way out. “I’ll be back soon! I’ve got to save the company!”

  At Azhar Soft Works, Basri zigged and zagged through the neat hallways of the third floor, voice caught in his throat as he headed for the board room. Juliette’s steps weren’t far behind. The whole place looked like an immaculate monstrosity after their stay in the village, far too organized and polished to be real. And after the week they’d had in the mountains, maybe this whole place really was a mirage.

  Basri burst into the board room, where a flawlessly dressed man sat at the head of the table, exactly in his regular place. Anger shivered through him. The board members turned at the intrusion, gasping when they saw Basri.

  “Basri, what are you doing here?”

  “We thought you’d quit.”

  Basri strode to the empty seat at the table, sitting down with a sigh. “No, I didn’t quit. But rather, we were stranded. Our helicopter crashed on our trip to Georgia. We barely managed to escape alive.”

  The words settled heavily over the table, exactly as he’d intended. He eyed the American CEO. He’d read up on the man and his company in the car on their way over from the estate, and he knew just how to get to him. Basri narrowed his eyes as he felt the next words click into place. “Yet the trip was very productive. I have decided that we will not be selling Azhar Soft Works. However, I would like to formally invite your company to partner with mine in a project that is guaranteed to make us both a great deal of money and change the world for the better.”

  The CEO, Marc Jessamine, blinked at Basri like maybe he couldn’t decide if this was a joke or not. He opened his mouth to respond, his neatly styled blond hair at odds with the flush of color in his neck. “I’m listening.”

  Basri smiled. “Excellent. As should all the board members.” He cast a serious look around the table, finding a few of the board members avoiding his gaze. They were probably the ones pushing for this meeting. The ones he’d have to deal with down the road. He stood, the jittery feeling in his belly demanding movement, and he slowly walked around the table as he spoke.

  “I have two initiatives. The first one is a software suite primarily designed to help people explore wilderness regions more safely; the crowdsourced mapping technology will take advantage of thousands of users around the globe, and will make search and rescue missions much easier.” He cast a meaningful glance to Juliette, who grinned like a proud mama.

  “The second initiative will be to invest heavily in communication technologies in the most remote regions of the world. This will be a humanitarian venture—not driven by profit. But the long-term gains from empowering economic growth in those regions will prove profitable in the long run, once they are connected to the rest of the world.”

  Some grumbling spread through the board members, but Basri focused only on Jessamine. “I want your company in on both projects. Together we can apply our resources and share in the benefits. Your company will stand alongside ours as a beacon of goodwill. How could you turn down something like this? It’s both profit and legacy.”

  The other man shifted in his seat, rolling a pen between his fingers. “Yes. I think you make a fair counter offer. I’m willing to negotiate.”

  Basri slapped his hand against the table, stifling the whoop of excitement that threatened to escape. Turning to his board members, he said, “I may not always be the leader you want. I may not always be as interested in profit as I am in good works. But you should know this: my father had a vision for this company, and I share that vision. My children will share that vision. As long as the Azhar name exists, Azhar Soft Works will always prioritize doing good over the needless expansion of wealth for wealth’s sake.”

  Basri paused, letting the mission statement hang in the air. “If anyone here is not on board for this journey, then I will be happy to buy out your shares at double their value. Just raise your hand.”

  Basri waited in tense silence as the offer sank in around the room. Board members looked curiously at each other. Juliette sat stricken, gripping the edge of the table.

  Nobody raised their hands.

  “Excellent.” Basri nodded, clapping his hands together. “I think this meeting is concluded.”

  Juliette scurried behind Basri, trying to keep up with him. He’d insisted they return immediately to his office for a private meeting, just the two of them. “You’re incredible.”

  He looked back at her, eyes wild. “I saved the company, didn’t I?”

  She laughed. “Yeah, I’d say you did. Did you really mean it? You’d buy them out at double? What if they’d accepted?”

  Basri paused in the hallway, turning to look at her. He grabbed her hands, which made her nervous. They’d never done…this…at work. They’d never even done this outside of Georgia. What were the rules now?

  “Money is worthless in the end. It’s just a tool. My father understood that—and I’ll never forget it.”

  Juliette smiled up at him, her uncertainty weighing heavily inside her. “Well I guess you better get around to having kids someday, so you can pass those values on.”

  Basri creased a brow, which made her stomach plummet to her toes. Shit. She hadn’t meant to bring this up—not now, not like this. Once the dust settled, maybe. But here, in front of cubicles and prying eyes and listening ears—this wasn’t the place to have the conversation.

  Basri cupped her face in his hands, pressing a kiss to her lips. She inhaled sharply, covering his hands with hers, making a small noise of surprise as they kissed.

  When they parted, Juliette noticed s
ome employees watching over his shoulder. But she couldn’t force herself to care.

  “I already have three children,” Basri said, his voice coming out soft. “And if you’ll have me…I just might have a wife, as well.”

  He dropped to one knee, which forced a gasp out of her. “Are you fucking serious?” She clamped a hand over her mouth. She hadn’t meant to swear so loudly. Basri looked up at her, eyes glittering with mischief while he opened a ring box.

  “Oh, Jesus!” Tears sprang to her eyes as she beheld the wantonly gorgeous ring, something old and heirloom and probably expensive as hell. “Are you seriously serious? Have you been carrying that with you since we left or something?”

  Basri laughed, popping the ring out of its resting spot. “No. I asked my mother for the ring that my father proposed to her with.” He admired it a moment then looked up at her, his dark eyes brimming with tenderness. “Juliette, you are the perfect partner for me, a partner that gives me the structure that I lack. You’re the most beautiful and kind-hearted person I’ve ever met, and I want you to be my wife. And more than that, I want you to be by my side, to help me continue delivering on my father’s vision for this company.” His voice cracked a little, which brought a few tears to Juliette’s eyes.

  She nodded, vision blurry as he slowly slid the ring onto her finger. “Yes, Basri. Forever, yes.”

  Basri sprang to his feet, wrapping his arms around her, a feeling that she doubted would ever grow old.

  He pressed his forehead to hers, his voice coming out choked. “You’ve made me the happiest man in the world.” His lips found hers and they kissed, over and over again, until Juliette couldn’t tell the taste of her tears from the taste of his lips.

  Epilogue

  Juliette leaned back onto the beach, sighing for what felt like the hundredth time that afternoon. The sun felt like a glorious gift, one that her full-time child rearing and work barely let her enjoy these days. Safiyah lounged at her side, situated beneath a fancy red umbrella, fanning herself as she smiled out at the sea. Waves crashed against the shore, melting away anything that wasn’t bliss.