The Sheikh’s Fake Fiancée (Azhar Sheikhs Book 1)

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The Sheikh’s Fake Fiancée (Azhar Sheikhs Book 1) Page 2

by Leslie North


  “Have you ladies been long in Lebanon?” He held Elena’s gaze.

  “About two weeks,” Elena said. Behind her, Aubrey hunted for a vacant table.

  “And will you be staying longer, or are you leaving?”

  “We’re leaving today,” Elena said. “Unfortunately.”

  “What a pity. Lebanon will be less beautiful without you.”

  Elena grinned, jerking her gaze away. “That’s very sweet of you.” To the side, Aubrey cleared her throat loudly, setting her big backpack on the ground, scraping the legs of a chair against the floor as she pulled it out.

  “I should go over there with her,” Elena said, gesturing toward her friend. “It was nice meeting you.”

  “You, as well.” Asim clenched his jaw as she headed for the small table near the back wall. How odd that she abandoned a conversation with him—most girls would trip over themselves for a chance to be wooed by him. Apparently she had no idea who he was—as he could expect of foreigners—but even so. He’d laid on the charm thick.

  Asim let out a terse sigh and tried to shake the memory of Elena’s haunting gaze. It wasn’t too often a woman like that riled him up. But what had she even done? Her gaze haunted him, seared through to his core. Prompted questions and curiosity far beyond what was common for a passer-by. And it was even more rare that a woman so beautiful didn’t play right into his hands.

  “I’ll take a baguette to go,” he said in Arabic. He handed over the money, mind shifting to the concerning conversation he’d been having with his mother that morning. Though she was heading out of the country in only hours, he worried her sudden silence via text message meant she hadn’t taken kindly to the white lie he’d proffered. Her needling and meddling about arranging a marriage for him was reaching new heights—so bad, in fact, that he’d somehow, sort of, let it slip that he’d met a girl. That he’d made his choice, and his mother’s choice was no longer necessary.

  That woman, of course, didn’t exist. Nor would she ever, if Asim had his way. Not when the world had so many fleeting and interesting possibilities. So many hookups to be had.

  His phone buzzed as he received the baguette bag to-go. Anxiety cinched his belly and he pulled it out of his pocket. His mother. “I’m stopping over on my way to the airport.”

  He stifled a groan. No, she hadn’t taken well to the news at all. And now, he had to explain this mystery fiancée to her. When she was angry, she got so rigid and stern that the most frightening part was the total absence of expression.

  “Hey.” A soft, lilting voice interrupted his screen time and he swiveled to face Elena. She smiled sweetly at him. “Thanks again for buying Aubrey’s croissant. We really just needed to use the internet, so that was a big help.”

  “It was no problem at all.” He smiled at the two of them, loaded up with their backpacks once more. “Listen, would you be able to do me a small favor?”

  Elena lifted a brow. “Maybe. What is it?”

  “Very brief and extremely trivial.” He guided them toward the front door, holding it open so both could pass through before him. “I promise.”

  Elena’s lips curled up in curiosity, but Aubrey’s gaze narrowed.

  “I just need you to play along,” he said, noticing a sleek black sedan slowing in the curb lane. His mother’s driver was in the front seat. Here we go. “This is her now.”

  The girls followed his gaze toward the car, then Aubrey squinted at him. “We’re not getting into any cars.”

  “Oh, no. No cars.” He laughed a little, worried that this plan might backfire spectacularly before he had a chance to save himself. But desperate times required desperate measures. Including roping in an innocent American girl to pose as his fiancé. “Trust me, this will be quick. Just follow my lead, Elena. You’ll be meeting the woman getting out of this car.”

  “We should get going,” Aubrey said, sounding annoyed.

  “I’ll do it.” Elena smiled up at him.

  Asim rummaged in his pocket, for the slippery little ring he’d picked up in a jewelry store a few days prior. He’d carried it with him ever since, wondering if he’d grow the balls to enact his ploy. It seemed his only way to freedom—the only chance to escape a life of misery at the side of a woman he didn’t love, didn’t like, didn’t even want—and now, the foresight proved serendipitous. The time is now.

  “Here, just wear this.” He showed her the ring, reaching for her hand. The car slowed to a stop behind a short wall of shrubbery. She’d be in front of them any minute now.

  Elena’s eyes widened once she caught sight of the glittering jewels. She spread her fingers and he slid the ring onto the correct finger—it was too big. But no matter. It would work well enough.

  The car door slammed, and his mother appeared on the sidewalk, her stride purposeful and strong, a teal pantsuit pairing nicely with her dark olive skin. Her black hair was coiffed with precision, swept back into a shoulder length do, the ends slightly curling out.

  “Son,” Safiya began in Arabic, before she’d even reached him. “You cannot let me leave the country without clarifying this message.” She waved her hand in the air, as if the text were floating somewhere between them. “Honestly, it’s basically cruel. I am your mother. How can you have news like this without telling me?”

  Asim cleared his throat, glancing at Elena, who wore a tight, plasticized smile. Her hazel eyes were saucers as she looked up at his mother. In English, he said, “Mother, please, let’s speak English. For Elena’s benefit.”

  Safiya turned her dark, accusing eyes toward Elena, her mouth a thin line.

  “This is the girl I was telling you about.” His heart raced so fast he might pass out.

  His mother’s gaze traveled up and down Elena, as if she were judging her for a competition, then shifted to the overstuffed backpack at her side, then careened over Aubrey. This is bad. This is very bad.

  Turning to Asim, she said, “Which is the girl you were telling me about? And why are there two of them? Are you planning on maintaining a harem?”

  Asim’s mouth fell open, unsure whether to laugh or not. “This is Elena.” He presented her, then gesturing toward Aubrey, he said, “And she is Aubrey, Elena’s best friend. Elena wanted to have her near for the wedding.”

  The air sucked in tight, like the world itself had taken a sharp inhale. Surprise radiated from everyone now. Safiya’s accusing gaze smoldered at him.

  “Yes,” Elena said, giggling nervously. “The wedding.”

  Thank you for playing along. Asim mustered a smile. “I told Elena that my mother Safiya was so eager to meet her. Please don’t prove me wrong, mother.”

  Safiya’s mouth stretched into a tight smile.

  “It’s lovely to meet you, Safiya,” Elena offered, holding out her hand. “It’s a joy to finally see you, after hearing so much about you.” Safiya took her hand quickly then dropped it.

  “Elena just arrived,” Asim went on. “We stopped here to relax for a bit after their long flight. I wanted to ease her in, and my plan was to present her at the palace, as is typical.” He cleared his throat, straightening his back. “I wasn’t trying to keep you in the dark, mother. I simply wanted to wait for the proper way.”

  “We’re dying to see the palace,” Aubrey interjected, leaning closer.

  Asim smiled over at her. Before he could add anything else, his mother’s driver approached.

  “Ms. Azhar,” the driver intoned, touching the side of her arm, “We must be on our way. Your flight is leaving soon.”

  “My mother must go catch her flight,” Asim said, for the benefit of Elena and Aubrey. “Such a shame to cut this meeting short.”

  His mother stiffened, her dark eyes narrowing. With her perfect hair, immaculate clothes, and glittering black nails, she looked like a Vogue model ready to draw blood. “I’ll be back in two days.”

  Asim’s eyes widened. “What? I thought you’d be in America for a week.”

  Safiya’s tight smile return
ed. “That was the original plan, son. But things change. Like this.” She gestured toward the girls. “I must return as quickly as possible to meet with my son and his fiancée. I’ll send you the updated itinerary when I have it. I want to return as soon as possible to begin getting to know my future daughter-in-law.”

  She held his gaze, daring him to argue. Asim’s stomach sunk. “Of course. You two can get to know each other very well once you return.” After a moment, he added, “I’m looking forward to it.”

  Safiya scanned each of them in turn, then leaned forward to kiss Asim on the cheek. She spun on her heel, heading back to the car, waving her hand in the air. “Two days!”

  The door slammed shut once more. Her dark eyes bore into them through the window until the driver pulled away. Once the car was gone, Asim turned to the women, heaving a sigh.

  “Thanks for that,” he said, offering a grimace. “I wasn’t expecting her to show up.”

  Elena gaped, staring down the street. Aubrey’s brows were knit in confusion. He had a whole lot of convincing to do…and the likelihood of maintaining this ruse seemed to be impossibly slim.

  “So, it looks like I have to ask you one more tiny favor…”

  3

  Elena stared at him, eyes round. This all had to be a joke—some kind of crazy, incomprehensible joke. She was being propositioned by a Lebanese man to be his pretend fiancée, while his mother flitted around like the Wicked Witch of the West with those stony eyes and terrifying grimaces.

  “Are you serious?” Aubrey’s voice was shrill, which snapped Elena out of her stupor. She blinked up at Asim, struggling to find the right words.

  “We’re traveling, buddy,” Aubrey went on. “We have a schedule and a timetable and purchased tickets and a lot of places to go.”

  “She’s right,” Elena added. “We’re just visiting. We still have five more countries to visit. We’re leaving for Cyprus tonight. We can’t afford to miss the boat, either. We only budgeted so much money for this trip.”

  “I can absolutely help with that,” Asim said. “Once this is all over, I’ll purchase your tickets again. Whatever tickets you like, in fact. If you want to go to Hong Kong instead, I’ll send you there. Or Thailand. Maybe even Russia. Whatever you want. No questions asked.”

  Elena cocked a brow. This guy had to be nuts. There was no way in hell a man with a face like that needed a pretend wife. “I don’t get it.”

  “Let me explain,” he said, reaching for her arm. His touch sizzled through her, but he dropped it quickly.

  “You sound like a nutjob,” Aubrey said, in the way that Aubrey always managed to cut to the core of whatever Elena really wanted to say.

  “Just hear me out,” he said, raising a hand. “I promise there’s an explanation here.”

  Elena narrowed her eyes at him. What explanation could possibly make sense, other than he was here filming for the Lebanese version of Candid Camera? It had to be a prank. And humiliation on a reality TV show wasn’t part of her itinerary.

  “My mother has been pressuring me to get married for…years. Since I turned eighteen, which means she’s been waiting for a decade. She wants me to marry the daughter of a family that we do business with. The girl is fine, I suppose. I mean, there’s nothing wrong with her. I’m simply not ready for the commitment. Not with her—not with anyone.” He paused, eyes flitting between her and Aubrey. “I must sidestep it. And the only way to do that is to prove to her that I am already engaged.”

  When Aubrey sighed, Asim added quickly, “If you agree to this…you will be doing me a favor I could not possibly repay. I would be forever in your debt. And I assure you—I am a man that many people wish could be in their debt.”

  Okay, so maybe it wasn’t Candid Camera. But it reeked of something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She opened her mouth to respond, but Aubrey jumped in.

  “Are you some sort of rich oil sheikh or something?”

  Elena turned to her, sending her a stern look. “Aubrey.”

  “What?” She shrugged. “It’s just a question.”

  Asim grinned—he looked more amused than offended. “Well, no, I’m not. Though I am rich, and I am a sheikh.”

  Elena’s stomach tightened. Rich and a sheikh. Slight pluses in the whole matter.

  “My family’s oil holdings are quite small,” he went on. “Mostly we deal in technology and renewable energy. We have plenty of money, and we live in luxury.”

  “Yeah, we heard—the palace,” Aubrey said.

  “If you choose to help me, I promise you the accommodations will be vastly better than anything you’ve probably experienced thus far.” He glanced at their backpacks, and embarrassment shot through her limbs. What must he think of her? Of common people like them? “If you’re on a budget trip, I assure you, this will be the end of cramped hotel accommodations and pinching every last penny.”

  “Lebanese Pound,” Aubrey corrected.

  Asim laughed a little. Elena crossed her arms over her chest, glancing at Aubrey. “Asim, can Aubrey and I have a minute in private?”

  “Of course.” His sly smile made her knees weak. This man was too handsome. He stepped aside, and Elena turned to Aubrey, narrowing her eyes.

  “Listen, why are you hounding him like you’re the one about to pretend to be his fiancée?”

  “I just want to make sure he’s on the up and up,” Aubrey said.

  “So, whatever happened to not getting into strange cars?” She lifted a brow. “I thought this idea would be out of the question. Now you’re basically haggling for my selling price.”

  “Hey, plans change, right?”

  “Not ours.” Elena crossed her arms tighter, gnawing at the inside of her lip. She couldn’t possibly be considering it. And yet, somewhere deep inside, the idea churned hot and curious. What would it be like to go along with his scheme? It might not be smart…but damn, she wanted to find out. No matter how little sense it made.

  “I’m just saying it would be nice to change things up a bit,” Aubrey went on. “After six weeks of budget hotel rooms and scrimping on meals…I wouldn’t be opposed to a luxurious break. They probably have a crazy awesome house! I mean, talk about exclusive tours. This is a trip that not many other people get to take.”

  “Even if it means I have to dupe his mother and get fake engaged to a sheikh.”

  Aubrey grinned a little. “Right.”

  “This is nuts.”

  “Well, he’s hot as fuck, which I’m sure you’ve noticed, so the eye candy is kind of like your prize.” When Elena’s narrowed eyes turned into a glare, Aubrey continued. “Besides, if we go with him, it’ll be an adventure. Off the beaten path. Something neither of us planned or budgeted for!”

  “And when we end up sold into slavery?” Elena leaned closer. “What then?”

  “We won’t. Look at this guy.” She gestured to Asim, who strolled the curb of the street, looking out toward the sea. “He doesn’t need to get into the slave trade to make money. You heard him. He deals with renewable energy. If anything, he spends his cash on hookers.”

  Elena snorted. “And fake wives.”

  “Exactly. Besides, we have the GPS feature on our phone. Anything happens to us, people are gonna know.”

  Elena watched her friend, nibbling on her lip. The pieces were clicking into place, and the puzzle was entirely different than the one she’d started out putting together. “We can also maybe set something up with some friends. Some check-ins. If we don’t call in every few days, they’ll know to send help.”

  “Very practical,” Aubrey said.

  “And we can sign a contract,” she said. “That sounds smart, doesn’t it?”

  “Incredibly.” Aubrey smirked. “Your first binding legal agreement with a sheikh. This is a big moment in a girl’s life.”

  Elena rolled her eyes. “Or something. We’ll google him too. Find out all the dirt.” She glanced behind her. Asim scrolled through his phone, his dark eyebrows furrowed. His
mouth parted slightly, which made his lips look plump. Delicious. Kissable. She shivered. Would it be so wrong to spend a little time in the proximity of a sexy sheikh?

  “OK. Let’s do it.” Elena searched Aubrey’s gaze, finding the same swirl of excitement and disbelief that she felt inside herself. “I don’t know why, but let’s.”

  Aubrey nodded. “Let’s. After you, Sheikh-ess.”

  Elena spun on her heel, heading for Asim, who jingled some coins in his pocket as he chatted on the phone. When he spotted her coming near, he hung up the phone and straightened, smiling at her.

  “Do you have some news?” His perfect teeth glittered in the sunlight.

  “I’ll do it,” she said, brushing some loose wisps of hair away from her eyes. “But only under a few conditions.”

  “Do share.”

  “We sign a contract of some sort. An agreement. But I can back out of this whenever I want.”

  He nodded. “I think that’s fair.”

  “And we have our GPS tracking on,” she added. “So no funny business. No kidnapping. No slavery.”

  Asim hefted with a little laugh. “Were those even options? My God.”

  “I just want to make sure we’re on the same page.” She smoothed back a few more wisps of hair that escaped in the boisterous breeze. “I mean, this is the first time I’ve posed as anyone’s fiancée. I don’t know you.”

  A sexy smirk overtook his face, one that made her insides clench. What if you fall in love with your fake fiancé? The thought made her blink, like stumbling over an unexpected step in the sidewalk. That seemed ludicrous.

  “How long will I be…doing this, anyway?”

  “I envision a week,” he said, pulling out his phone. “I can’t imagine it would take much longer than that to derail my mother’s carefully laid plans.”

  Aubrey snorted. “Great. So where are we going first?”

  Asim swiped at something on his screen and then pocketed the phone again. “To my house. Let’s get you both settled in.”

  A moment later, a sleek black sedan pulled up, similar to the one that had whisked his mother away. Shiny rims snagged her attention as it rolled to a stop. A driver hopped out of the front seat, heading to the trunk.

 

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