by Leslie North
The Sheikh’s Tamed Bride
The Sharif Sheikhs Series Book 2
Leslie North
Contents
The Sharif Sheikhs Series
Copyright
The Sheikh’s Tamed Bride
Blurb
Mailing List
About Leslie
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
End of The Sheikh’s Tamed Bride
Thank you!
The Sharif Sheikhs Series Book Three Sneak Peek
Sneak Peek
The Sharif Sheikhs Series
The Sheikh’s Pretend Fiancée
The Sheikh’s Tamed Bride
The Sheikh’s Stubborn Assistant
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, JANUARY 2018
Copyright © 2018 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.
Cover Design by LJ Anderson of Mayhem Cover Creations.
www.relaypub.com
Blurb
Rashid Sharif has never apologized for his wild lifestyle, but after one scandal too many his family is fed up with his playboy ways. He’ll agree to his brother’s outrageous demand that he marry, but it won’t be to some wallflower as his conservative family would prefer. If he’s going through with this farce, there’s only one woman he’ll take as his wife—his sister-in-law’s American friend Mila. She’s a rebellious little thing, with fiery passion simmering beneath her icy exterior. Although Mila’s never been more than coldly polite to him, Rashid will do what it takes to win her over.
Mila’s always been a wild child, but when she chose to follow her dreams to Dubai it wasn’t to work as a glorified waitress. She needs a chance to get ahead, but when that opportunity comes, it’s not a job she’s offered—it’s a marriage. Rashid Sharif is ridiculously handsome, richer than sin…and a complete player. Mila wants nothing to do with the womanizer, even when he offers her more money than she could make in a lifetime. But when the notorious bad boy begins to play nice, Mila finds it hard to resist temptation.
As Rashid works to woo Mila, a simple seduction suddenly seems like something more. But can she ever trust the sinful sheikh, or will Mila always worry that Rashid is only playing games with her heart?
Mailing List
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(The Sharif Sheikhs Series Book Two)
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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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1
The call came just a few hours before dawn. Rashid, the middle brother in the powerful Sharif Sheikh family, had only crawled into bed an hour before the phone started to ring.
And ring . . . and ring . . . and ring.
Finally, with a loud growl, he rolled over and picked it up. “You’d better be dying,” he hissed to his friend, Arvio. When the man started to slur, Rashid grunted. “Put Karam on the phone. I can’t understand a word you’re saying.”
A moment later, Karam came on the line. There had been a time when the three of them had been as thick as thieves, but when his family had begun struggling, Rashid had pulled away in order to focus on business pursuits. Karam and Arvio both took offense.
“Rashid,” Karam crowed. “We’re in need of some assistance.”
Sitting up, Rashid pushed the silk sheets off the bed. “What kind of assistance?” he asked warily.
“We seem to be stranded at the Al Qasr. Would you be able to come and get us?”
“It’s a hotel. Spend the night,” Rashid snapped. “Unless you’re getting kicked out again.” Karam and Arvio both came from prominent families, but they had a reputation for their partying ways, and often management wasn’t able to overlook their destructive behavior. Both Karam and Arvio’s families were on the verge of cutting them off, and the men—no doubt—didn’t want to call their own drivers to come get them.
For a moment, he considered telling them that they were on their own. Rashid had too many responsibilities to deal with their immature crap, but they had been friends for a long time, and he knew that he hadn’t been very supportive of them lately. What had started as friendship had begun to feel more like a babysitting job. He had responsibilities, even as the middle son, and they didn’t seem to understand that.
“I’ll come get you—but, Karam? This is the last time,” he muttered. He knew that he’d said that the last twenty times, but he was at the end of his rope. It was four in the morning, and he had a meeting to attend in the morning.
Rather than waking one of the drivers, he grabbed his keys and went to the garage himself. Picking a dark sedan—something that would be a bit more inconspicuous than the other cars—he hit the empty streets, reaching the luxury hotel in record time.
Nodding to the doorman, he took the steps two at a time and entered the lobby. The eyes of the night receptionist widened as the man recognized him. “Sheikh Sharif,” he gasped. “I must apologize. I did not realize that you were staying with us.”
“I’m not. I’m here for Karam and Arvio. I assume they’re in the penthouse suite?”
The receptionist looked as if he’d like to say more, and Rashid gritted his teeth. “I’m here to take them home. Don’t worry.”
Relief swept over the man’s face as he nodded.
Entering the elevator, Rashid looked forward to the tongue-lashing that he was going to give his friends.
On the top floor, the elevator opened to the hallway leading to the prestigious luxury suites. A peppy beat was causing the walls to vibrate, and Rashid sighed. It appeared that his two friends weren’t just drunk. They were having a party.
Fabulous.
He pounded on the door with bruising force and then crossed his arms, waiting.
Arvio swung the door open and grinned at him. “Hey! Rashid is here! Now the party really can begin.”
Glancing into the room, Rashid frowned. Arvio was stark naked, and there wasn’t anyone else in the room. “Get Karam and put some clothes on. You’re leaving.”
“Oh, we can’t leave yet,” Arvio whined. “Things are just starting to get good. Wait until you see the surprise we have for you.”
He skipped drunkenly through the common area and into one of the bedrooms.
Ready to throttl
e his friends, Rashid followed, only to stop dead at the sight before him. Karam, taking a break from his bedroom activities, languished by the window. It wasn’t the naughty scene before him that made Rashid panic but the two women in the bed.
He recognized them instantly because he’d met them only days ago when he’d attended with his father and brothers the international conference that was hosted in Dubai every year.
The bedmates weren’t hookers. They were the daughters of prestigious Italian and Polish diplomats.
Enraged, Rashid brought his fist around and hit Arvio squarely in the jaw. “What were you thinking?” he bellowed. “If their fathers find out, there will be hell to pay!”
The girls shrieked and covered themselves. “How are they going to find out unless you tell?” the gorgeous Italian asked, her voice slurring more with every word.
Rashid searched his memory for their names. The dark-haired Italian beauty was Valentina Ricci, and the Polish blonde bombshell was Ania Kowalski.
“The press have been following you ladies around all week. Do you really think they wouldn’t spot you with Dubai’s most notorious playboys?”
Arvio, holding his aching jaw, glared at Rashid. “Do you really think that we wouldn’t take precautions? What’s happened to you? You used to be one of us. We brought you here to have a little fun!”
“This isn’t fun for me, not anymore. I have to uphold my family’s reputation,” Rashid growled. “Now get dressed. We’re taking these women home before this gets even more out of hand.” He found Arvio’s pants and threw them at him. “Now.”
Stalking out of the bedroom, he slammed the door behind him. He couldn’t remember ever being so angry in his life. Gritting his teeth, he did his best to straighten up the hotel room so the managers wouldn’t be too upset. Luckily, his friends must have understood because a few minutes later, all of the would-be revelers paraded out with shame in their eyes. He swept them with a stern look before herding the four out of the suite.
The elevator ride was quiet all the way down, but when they stepped out of the elevator, all hell broke loose. Flashbulbs went off in their faces, and questions filled the air as a handful of reporters rushed them, their cameras pointed right at them.
“Heads down,” he hissed to the girls as he shielded them with his body. Ignoring the onslaught, he pushed through the crowd and out the door. Luckily, the hotel had sensed trouble and pulled his car right up to the front. Getting the others safely into the car was difficult with the girls swaying on their heels and his friends openly cursing at the reporters, but eventually, he managed to get them all crowded in there.
Safely getting everyone back to their respective hotels and homes seemed to take forever. He didn’t pull up to the palace again until the sun’s rays were barely peeking over the horizon.
Every light was burning in Asad’s suite, and Rashid knew that word had already reached them.
“The diplomats’ daughters?” the older brother roared as Rashid dragged his tired body in. “Have you lost your mind! There are hundreds of women you could have chosen from in Dubai, and you picked Diplomat Ricci and Kowalski’s daughters? Father is already trying to do damage control.”
Of course his brother didn’t give him the benefit of the doubt. Why should he? Up until the past two years, Rashid had been just like his friends, drinking and sleeping his way across the world. But he’d grown tired of the lifestyle and wanted to be taken seriously. When Asad had introduced his plans to Dubai, not only to invest but also build luxury condos, Rashid hadn’t been far behind with his own idea for the sports complex.
The truth was that he had a head for business, and he wanted to prove it to the world. Unfortunately, he couldn’t even seem to get his own family to take him seriously.
“I’m tired. I’m going to bed,” Rashid muttered as he brushed past Asad. His older brother’s arm shot out, and Asad gripped him tight.
“We’re not done here,” Asad hissed. “I want answers.”
Anger swelled inside him, and Rashid pulled out of Asad’s grasp. “What does it matter? You won’t believe me anyway. Go bed your wife and leave me the hell alone.”
Months ago, Asad had been struggling to get his business plan off the ground because the investors wouldn’t take him seriously, but when he’d shown up with a pretend fiancée on his arm, that all had changed. They’d begun to see him as a family man, and he got his plan pushed through.
Rashid had actually admired the underhanded tactic, at least he did until Asad fell in love and married the American beauty for real.
Liyah. The soft-spoken woman who had captured Dubai’s heart.
“I’d love to be in bed with my wife,” Asad snapped. “Instead, I’m cleaning up after you.” He stopped suddenly and stared. “That’s it.”
“What’s it?”
A slow smile spread over the older brother’s face. “I think it’s time to show Dubai that you’re hanging up your reckless lifestyle for good.”
“I have,” Rashid shot back. “Though I don’t know why I’m wasting my breath on someone as thick-headed as you.”
“You’re going to take a wife,” Asad said, ignoring them. “Another Sharif wedding should help this scandal blow over. Amira has a talent for this kind of thing. I’ll speak to her in the morning and get something set up. Someone docile and quiet. Something that’ll help your image improve greatly.”
Rashid’s mouth gaped open, and he stared at his brother. Was Asad really standing there, planning his future as though Rashid wasn’t even there? “I’m not marrying.”
“I have a feeling that Father is going to say something different.”
Rashid paled slightly. Navine Sharif had only recently returned from a diplomatic tour of Europe, and—like Asad—was not likely to listen to Rashid’s explanation about the evening.
Asad’s plan would help mollify their father. Inhaling slowly, Rashid mentally cursed his friends for landing him in this position. This was what happened when he tried to help a friend. He’d learned a good and hard lesson tonight.
It was time to stop making decisions based on his heart.
“Fine,” he hissed angrily. “I’ll marry, but I’ll never be the poor whipped sap that you’ve turned into. Tell Amira that this is a business arrangement only.”
Marching past Asad, he strode angrily down the hall until he reached his own suite, slamming the door behind himself. Leaning heavily against it, he tried to wait for his temper to settle.
Wife. Rashid ran a hand over his face. He needed to find the most submissive and quiet woman in Dubai to become his wife, or this was never going to work.
2
“Faster, Mila. We are at capacity. Feed them and turn tables,” Fatima snapped.
Mila gritted her teeth and tried not to remind the irritating woman that she knew how to do her job. As usual, Fatima was on her high horse, wielding her newfound managerial power. Just a month ago, they had been peers. Now Fatima was in the perfect position to punish Mila for the missed opportunity with Sheikh Asad al Sharif, the one she felt Liyah had stolen right out from under her.
It wasn’t Mila’s fault that Fatima had been late that day, nor did it do any good to point out that Asad would never have gone for someone like Fatima, who batted her eyes at anyone who even smelled of wealth and power.
Normally, Mila enjoyed working at the lounge. She loved meeting new people and socializing, but for the past few weeks, Fatima had been making her life miserable. Liyah and Asad had offered to buy Mila her own lounge, but she’d refused. This wasn’t the type of life she wanted to lead forever. She wanted to travel, not be bogged down. Besides, the new home that they’d bought their exchange-mother, Sahaar, was already gracious enough, not to mention the investment money they’d put up so Sahaar could start her bakery. Mila couldn’t take another thing from them, royalty or not.
Grabbing the plates from the kitchen line, she hurried across the busy lounge to the table in the corner. Two men looked u
p from their conversation and flashed her smiles. Dubai was a hub for international travelers and foreign-exchange students, so an American like herself wasn’t too much of a surprise for the locals. Still, they always asked her a ton of questions when they met her, wanting to know what had led to her decision to visit Dubai.
“Pan-seared scallops and Koshari,” she announced as she set the popular noodle and lentil dish down.
“Would you care to join us?” the younger man asked as he lounged back and appraised her.
Mila would have loved to sit and chat with them, but the lounge was far too busy tonight. Passing along her regrets, she hurried back to the kitchen to suffer further under Fatima’s wrath. Unfortunately, the woman had noticed her brief interlude with the men.
“Mila, your flirting is out of place,” she snapped in front of the rest of the employees. “This is a business, not a chance for you to pick up men.”
Mila wasn’t embarrassed. Everyone knew that Fatima had it out for her. Instead, she barely acknowledged the woman as she grabbed the next set of plates and headed back out to finish up her shift. But by the time the evening was over, her hands were trembling with anger as she clocked out.
She didn’t know how much longer she could take the woman’s misplaced anger.
When the cab dropped her off at the house, she was surprised to see another car there. It looked like one of the cars that Asad’s drivers used. Hoping that Liyah had come to visit, she jumped out of the car.