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

by Leslie North

  Her eyes narrowed further. “And what do your parents say about this?”

  Elena’s voice shriveled. “They always supported my dreams. They would be proud of me, I think.”

  Safiya softened visibly. “Have they been gone long?”

  “They both passed several years ago.” She nibbled at her bottom lip. “I miss them every day.”

  Safiya shifted. “I’m sure they’d be happy to know you’ve met someone like Asim. He is the pride that every mother hopes for. I will see that only the best comes to him.”

  Again, her words were like a ruler against the knuckles. She took another sip of tea, wondering where this conversation would end up. This clearly wasn’t a soft-hearted let’s meet my new daughter-in-law bedside conversation. This was an interview.

  “How long have you known him?”

  The question squeezed at her gut. Panic flashed through her. She feigned coughing into her hand. “Well, it hasn’t been long.” Safiya’s eyes darkened. “In the grand scope of our lifetimes, the amount of time we’ve spent together feels like only a few days.”

  “Hm.” Safiya smoothed a few wrinkles from the comforter, her lips a thin line. “You seem to have the same poetic inclinations as my son.”

  “It’s one of the reasons we work so well together,” Elena said, the words flying out before she could think better of it. And the strange part was she meant them.

  “I should leave you to get better. Drink all of that tea.” Safiya patted her leg through the blanket and stood, gliding out of the room without another word. Elena sat paralyzed in her wake, staring into space, replaying the conversation in her head to figure out if she’d passed the test or not.

  Asim arrived moments later, eyes wild. “How did that go?”

  “I have no idea.” Elena slurped back the rest of her tea and set the cup down on the nightstand. “That was terrifying. And to think I almost greeted her totally nude with my legs spread.”

  Asim drew back, an eyebrow arching. A grin ghosted his face. “That’s what you were planning for me?”

  “Well, yeah.” She huffed, burying her face in her hands.

  Asim sighed, easing onto the bed. He rubbed her back. “I’m sure you did fine. I wasn’t expecting her to appear so early. I thought we’d be able to spend the day together and prepare a little bit. But…” He shook his head. “Thank you for your performance. I’ll be able to feel out her reaction a bit later.”

  Something about the word “performance” niggled at her, sent strange, unwelcome spirals through her body. That hadn’t been a performance—she’d meant everything she said. “Why later?”

  “She’s going to change and get ready for the day. She literally came straight from the airport to your room. She hasn’t even had breakfast yet.”

  Elena tutted. “She was hellbent. How long do we have to keep this up?”

  Asim’s gaze flitted away. “Until she withdraws the marriage offer to the other family. I’ll let you know after I speak with her.” He paused, snagging her gaze. “But I promise you’ll be compensated for all your help.”

  Elena frowned, looking away. Compensated. So does this mean you’ve become a hooker? “Lovely.”

  Doubt crossed his face; he reached for her hand. “I don’t want this to be painful for you. Let’s just have as much fun as we can while you’re here. We might as well enjoy our time together, right?”

  His smile disarmed her, made the bitter taste of his insinuation dissolve entirely. He pushed back the sheets, revealing her legs. Goosebumps prickled on her skin as he dragged his fingertips over her shin, up to her knee, over the warm flesh of her thigh. She swallowed hard, daring herself to meet his gaze.

  What did she even want from him? Things were too murky to tell. The long-term picture was a foggy bay at sunrise, no clear end in sight, one foot blending into one mile. Because what were the chances he felt the same prickly sensations of attraction and longing sprouting inside him? The same familiarity, the same urgent tides of deep-seated connection washing over him? This would only ever be pure business for him—no matter how good the sex was.

  So if she only served as his cover story, then there shouldn’t be any problem just having fun with him. No strings attached.

  No matter how much her heart throbbed at the thought of something more with this man.

  10

  Days blurred into a week; two weeks catapulted into three. After so much time with the girls under the palace roof, Asim felt like maybe they’d always lived this way—Elena, Aubrey, Nasir, and himself an eclectic mix of friends, family and lovers, sharing dinners and laughter, sunshine and sunsets. Nasir traveled back and forth between Lebanon and the States almost weekly, as he was in the middle of helping their younger brother Basri navigate a structural overhaul in the Middle Eastern office.

  Asim helped where he could but preferred to maintain his regular work schedule. That way, he could spend every free moment with Elena and—sometimes—Aubrey. The girls seemed happy enough relaxing into luxury, but he made sure to keep them occupied too. By the third week, they’d done almost every touristic thing in the city, including some little-known archeological sites in other parts of the country. He dangled those things in front of them like a carrot in front of a horse, praying that the continued distractions would buy him more time for his mother to dissolve the wedding agreement.

  But by the third week, his mother had officially orchestrated a stalemate. She’d perfected the art of evasion when it came to conversation about the Dahoud family. No matter how much Asim gently insisted she quit wasting the family’s time with her offer, she found a way to dodge him.

  “You know, our backpacking trip is technically ending soon,” Elena said one day as they strolled through the gardens. They made sure to keep the touching and kissing to a strict minimum inside the palace, under the watchful gaze of his mother and her staff. Traditionally, sex was forbidden until marriage, and he didn’t want his mother to come at him claiming a breach of purity as a last-ditch effort to break them up. In the gardens, though, they could get away with more—all the way up to and including furtive fondling, like their very first time.

  “I know. It’s hard to believe you’ve been here three weeks already.” He smiled wistfully, scanning the lush grass of the estate. It would be hard to imagine life without her so near, always within reach. “My mother hasn’t dissolved the offer yet. I think she doesn’t want me to marry you.”

  “Well, you don’t want to marry me either,” Elena pointed out.

  He furrowed his brow. “Why would you say that?” Something in her words felt as though she’d brandished a knife.

  “You don’t want to marry anyone, remember?”

  “Well, yes.” Asim straightened the cuffs of his shirt. After work, he’d come straight to find Elena. Most days, he didn’t make a single plan until he heard from her and got her input. And by this point, he realized, he’d stopped making plans without her. Not because he was scared to not include her, but because he simply preferred her to be around. “And your point?”

  She shrugged, looking away. They strolled in tense silence for a few moments, while Asim thought of a way to crack the strange mood she wore like a shield. “Listen, I want to take you somewhere. I thought of a trip we could all take. You, me, Aubrey, and Nasir.”

  “Where to?”

  “It’s a resort, a place my father used to take my brothers and me when we were little. We absolutely loved it, but my mother always hated it. She never came with us. I’ll let her know we’re planning to go, and she’ll decline to come along.” He paused, searching her face for her understanding. She remained stony, so he added, “So it will just be the four of us.”

  She nodded. “And then what?”

  “Well, we can do whatever we’d like.” He laughed a little. “No more sneaking around like teenagers, scared my mother will find us.” When she didn’t respond, he nudged her. “Don’t you think that will be fun?”

  Her gaze swung towa
rd him, brimming with fire. “Fun? Sounds like more charades, if you ask me.”

  Her words weren’t nearly as caustic as her tone. “Charades? What are you—“

  “I’m tired of you using me like I’m some stupid piece in a game,” she snapped, crossing her arms, stilling on the pathway. “It’s been three weeks, and your plan didn’t work like you wanted, so what? We’re just gonna keep acting like we’re together until she signs something?”

  “I promise, it’ll be any day—“

  “If you don’t want to marry the other girl, just get out of it yourself. Refuse to sign papers, or skip your own wedding. Whatever, just get out of it. But don’t drag me along anymore. I don’t want to go to your stupid resort.”

  Asim blinked, mouth hanging open as he struggled to find an appropriate response. His first reaction was understanding—God, she was right. Totally right, even though the same words from almost anyone else would have incited his fury.

  “Well, what do you want, then?” He reached out for her, but she turned away, gnawing at the inside of her lip.

  “I don’t know,” she said in a small voice. “I just want to be alone.”

  Elena turned and jogged back toward the house, the golden evening sun bathing her in light. He watched her go, stunned by the outburst, shocked that she’d been filling up with so much emotion right under his nose. That certainly wasn’t the Elena he’d come to know, but if he was honest with himself, he’d felt the tension brewing for a few days. Felt the ways in which she was getting restless and strained.

  The vacation is over. It’s time to figure this out once and for all.

  Elena jogged back to her room, fighting tears the whole way. It was all she could do to hold up that angry veneer alongside his confident swagger, because she didn’t want to admit to the pain inside. The embarrassment of going along with a ruse like this for so long. Because somewhere along the line, it became real. The ruse became reality, but it was clear she was the only one who’d fallen for it.

  And wasn’t that a sad truth? Between Asim, Safiya, and herself, Elena was the only one who believed the lie she’d help create.

  She pushed her bedroom door shut and locked it, leaning against the thick wood. Chest heaving, she pressed a hand to her forehead, unsure where the intensity of that emotional outburst had stemmed from. Had she fallen so hard for him? Undoubtedly she’d fallen, but she liked to maintain the slight hope that she was still rational about it. Like maybe she wasn’t turning into a lovesick ninny who’d fall all over herself just for a chance to be near Asim.

  Tears welled in her eyes, and she sighed with frustration. Seriously, what’s wrong with you? She wiped at her eyes and went to the small balcony overlooking a side garden. She gripped the thick stone railing, scanning the greenery without really seeing it.

  This isn’t like you to be so emotional over a guy. But she also hadn’t fallen for someone in a long time. And she’d never known anyone like Asim. This was new territory altogether. He had no precedent.

  Maybe your period is about to start. Lightbulbs flashed in her head, and she groaned. That had to be it—she hadn’t had her monthly visit since before Lebanon. Or maybe longer? Panic seized her as she struggled to recall the last time Lady Flow had visited. She’d needed to buy tampons, which led to an awkward pharmacy visit in Arabic. So maybe it had been in Jordan. She scrambled for her phone, pulling up the calendar, trying to pinpoint when they’d visited Petra.

  She counted the days between Petra and the current day. And then she counted again. And then one more time, to be sure.

  If her memory served her correctly, she was one week late.

  She blinked, letting the phone slip out of her hands and tumble to the floor. One week late. She was never late. Not during traveling, not when she was stressed, not ever. Her menstrual regularity was practically a renowned gift. Other women synced to her fierce timetable.

  And she was late.

  Curiosity and panic burbled hot inside her belly. Could it be…? Touching her belly, she already knew. There was no other explanation, and they’d had unprotected sex enough times that it was almost certain. And if part of her hadn’t cared then—well then, this was the natural consequence.

  But she wouldn’t take a test here. Not with so many maids and staff around, all of them probably reporting back to Safiya. She had to wait until she was back on the road, or on her way home. Which meant that her exit from the palace needed to happen immediately.

  The thought of leaving Asim made her heart hurt, but at this point, there was no point in sticking around. He only wanted no-strings-attached sex and a convenient excuse to flout his mother’s wishes. Not only did she have the biggest potential strings-attached situation growing inside her belly, the thing she really wanted most—Asim to choose her, to truly want to be with her—was never going to happen. Forcing him to take her against his wishes would be worse than not having him at all.

  Even if she swore she saw the flame of their connection growing brighter every day…Asim would be sure to snuff it.

  He doesn’t want anything serious, so he’ll never choose you.

  It was time to get the hell out of there.

  Asim stormed through the palace, picking up his wallet, which he’d left in the foyer after work, and snatching a car key from a row of hooks. Aubrey’s eyebrows shot up when she noticed him. “Going somewhere?”

  “Maybe.” He tugged a hand through his hair, avoiding her gaze. “Why?”

  “You look like you’re on a mission.” She shrugged. “Can I come with you?”

  All he wanted was a quick joyride in the car to blow off steam. To blast through the countryside and forget that he was losing Elena. Aubrey being there might not let him shake off all the frustration. “I don’t know. I’m going for a drive.”

  “Well I’m sure there’s room for both of us.” She grinned.

  When he didn’t respond immediately, she added, “You look upset. There’s clearly something you need to talk about. Let’s hit the road.”

  He sighed. “Fine.” He headed out the front door, walking quickly toward the sprawling 8-car garage. He pressed a button on the key ring, and one of the garage doors slid open, revealing a bright red sports car. Aubrey gasped.

  “Wow. I didn’t realize you had this battalion of awesomeness tucked away.” She ran her fingertips over the side of the car as she walked to the passenger side.

  “Hey. Don’t touch unless you want to wax.” He fixed her with a look before getting into the car. She slid into the other side of the two-seater, whistling low.

  “Dang. Can I touch the inside, at least?”

  “Very gently.” He started the car, and it roared to life. He revved it a few times, feeling a tiny bit of his anxiety melt away. Horsepower was just the cure for certain things. He backed out of the garage then shifted into gear. He tore down the driveway, making the tires squeal. Aubrey hooted with laughter as they flew along the main driveway. When the chauffer drove, it took several minutes to make it down the long entryway. In his car, it took thirty seconds.

  He slowed to a stop at the gated entrance, waiting for the attendant to open up. Aubrey looked over at him, amusement on her face. “You’ve got a lot of steam to blow off, it looks like.”

  “Yeah, I do.” The gate opened, and he shifted, peeling out of the property. He headed for the highway, slowing a little as he maneuvered around potholes.

  “You wanna talk about it?”

  Asim ground his jaw as he thought. Yes, he did want to talk about it—but what he really needed to know, he was too scared to ask. He glanced over at Aubrey, practicing the words in his head. “I don’t know.”

  Aubrey looked out the window as he drove. As silence consumed the car, he worked up the nerve to say the words. Otherwise, the not knowing might eat him alive. “What does Elena think of me?”

  A small smile crossed her face. “That’s what’s got you so worked up?”

  He shrugged. “I just need to know what sh
e thinks of me.”

  She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Well, I know she likes you. A lot. Too much, for my taste.” She shot him a look. “But she thinks you’re handsome…smart…passionate. She told me you’re a secret creative, which I still sort of don’t believe. And also that you’re full of yourself.”

  His eyebrows crashed together. That last one stung. “Really?”

  “Hey, you asked.”

  He shifted gear as he slowed for the onramp. “I guess it makes sense she’d think that. I’ve completely ruined your trip, haven’t I?” Of course she’d think he was full of himself—he’d done the most selfish thing—forced the two of them to forego their trip just to pander to his whims. Guilt crashed through him. He’d been so focused on the prize of his mother bending to his will that he’d forgotten entirely that part of their goal was other countries—not just archeological sites in Lebanon.

  “Elena is a woman who likes to stick to the plan. And when those plans get held up, she gets very anxious.” Aubrey paused, glancing over at him. “I know it seems like a person with an art degree might not be so serious, but she is. Besides, she hasn’t been able to express herself like she normally does for almost two months. Painting is her life—she’s dying to get home and get back to work.”

  Her words wandered around inside him like someone groping through a dark cave. “How can I get her to stay longer?” Please, let her stay longer. Every throb of his heart reflected this wish. If she left now…he didn’t know what he’d do. And the scary part was, most of the desperation had nothing to do with waiting out the dissolution of the engagement.

  He just wanted her near him. All the time. And those feelings didn’t fit in at all with the original scheme.

  Aubrey hefted with a laugh as he merged onto the highway traffic. “Honestly? I don’t think you can. Girl’s ready to go.”

  Her words settled inside him like boulders. He’d used up all his time, and not only had he managed to screw up the plan, he’d also entirely frustrated Elena in the process. And knowing that hurt him somehow—at the very least, he’d only wanted to show the girls a good time. Let them bask in the finer things for a while. And he couldn’t even achieve that.