The Sheikh’s Blackmailed Bride (Sheikhs of Al-Dashalid Book 2)

by Leslie North

  He had to keep his head in the game. That was the most essential thing of all. This was the point in the conversation when he usually said something ill-advised, and it always came back to bite him. He couldn’t do that now. He couldn’t let all his conflicting emotions derail this, though the struggle between his head and his heart tore at him. Yes, they were electric together in the bedroom, and yes, Catelyn had pushed and pushed until he was ready for this very encounter with Lydia. But despite all of that…

  She was only temporary in his life.

  That’s what they’d agreed to.

  There was no way around it.

  “My wife is unable to sign,” he said bluntly.

  Lydia raised her eyebrows. “What? Why would Catelyn be unable to sign?”

  “I heard my name. Did you two need me?” Rami’s heart sank at the touch of Catelyn’s hand on his elbow, warm and familiar. She smiled up at him. “Sign what, by the way? I’ve got an excellent autograph,” she joked, winking at Lydia.

  Her former mentor showed no such lightheartedness. “We were discussing a possible contract between Morris International and your husband’s family,” Lydia answered flatly. “I had explained to Sheikh Rami that the deal would only go forward with your participation.”

  Rami couldn’t tear his eyes away from Catelyn. Her own eyebrows rose. “Lydia, that’s—that’s so flattering, but—”

  Lydia turned to face Catelyn. “You’re the one I trust. And you’re the reason I’m willing to place my faith in Rami’s family. I want you to be included on every level. Only it seems that won’t be possible.”

  “No, it won’t,” said Rami, and he felt Catelyn’s grip on his elbow tense. “It’s my word or nothing.”

  “What?” Catelyn was flabbergasted. “You’ve already made up your mind?”

  “There are lots of factors going into this decision,” he told her, even though it killed him to see the hurt in her blue eyes. “The fact is, you’re not in a position to enter a long-term contract on behalf of my family.”

  Catelyn pulled away, looking from Rami to Lydia and back again. “What’s happening here? I would have been happy to sign,” she said to Lydia. “I don’t understand.”

  “That’s enough,” said Rami. The situation was spinning out of control, and he was to blame. Not for the way this conversation had gone, but for pursuing Catelyn in the first place. If they hadn’t been married—

  If they hadn’t been married, he wouldn’t be having this conversation at all. It didn’t work without her. And it didn’t work with her, either.

  “Enough?” said Catelyn softly. “Do you really mean that?” She took another half step back, shock written on her face.

  No, his heart cried. “Yes,” he said, looking at her with a level gaze. “I don’t need you involved in this anymore.”

  She blinked at him. And then she turned stiffly to Lydia. “I’m sorry,” she said, a weak smile flickering across her lips. “I’m going to have to leave early.”

  Lydia cut a sharp glance toward Rami. “I understand. Will I see you tomorrow?”

  Catelyn stepped forward and gave Lydia a quick hug. “I don’t know. But I’ll be in touch. Okay?”

  “Call me,” answered Lydia.

  Catelyn walked away without another glance at Rami.

  Lydia took a breath as if she were going to say something, but instead she shook her head and went in the opposite direction, leaving Rami utterly alone.

  18

  He could hardly think. He could hardly breathe. Without Catelyn by his side, Lydia’s estate was a horrible, empty thing, and all the natural splendor of the lawns and the gardens couldn’t distract him from the awful truth of her absence.

  She hadn’t answered a single one of his texts or calls. He spent two hours looking for her on the sprawling estate after she walked away from him at the shooting range. In the end he’d gone back to the suite they shared.

  All of her things were gone.

  Her things. Catelyn had brought several dresses and other pieces from the dressmaker’s shop in Al-Dashalid, but those were all hanging in the closet. She’d packed her small suitcase with the things that were hers and hers alone and gone. Her tennis shoes were missing from their spot beneath the luggage rack.

  It hurt him to see that empty space.

  And hurting made him furious.

  Rami paced the empty room for as long as he could bear it, and then he yanked his phone from his pocket and dialed a number.

  The royal family’s concierge at the company that managed their private jet picked up on the first ring.

  “Avi, I need the plane,” Rami barked into the phone. He was usually polite with Avi, but the ache in his heart was shooting acid anger into his veins. “I need it now. My flight plans for the weekend have been changed, and I need to get back to Al-Dashalid without delay.

  “I’m so sorry, Sheikh Rami,” Avi said. “But—”

  “Good,” he said automatically. “I’ll be arriving at the airport in an hour.” Too late, Avi’s words registered. “What did you say?”

  “I apologized,” Avi replied without missing a beat. “The jet is in use. I’d be happy to arrange a commercial flight for you, or I can check to see if another client’s jet might be available—”

  “Who has the jet?” Rami knew he was being too sharp with Avi, but he couldn’t stop himself.

  “Sheikh Kyril has the jet,” Avi answered, a note of wariness creeping into his tone. “I’m more than happy to—”

  “I’ll contact him,” Rami said, cutting the call short.

  The video call to Kyril took three tries to connect, and by the third attempt Rami was ready to throw his phone out the window. But at last the window blurred and then cleared, Kyril’s face appearing in the middle of the screen. A moment later, the sound cut in.

  It was deafening.

  Inan was shrieking at the top of his lungs in the background of the call, and Kyril was half-turned toward his son. “Inan, it’s time to be quiet,” he scolded gently. “I’m talking to Uncle Rami. Do you want to say hello to Uncle Rami?”

  Inan screamed “NO!”

  Kyril laughed, turning toward the phone. “What can I do for my unbelievably romantic younger brother?”

  “I’m not in the mood,” said Rami.

  Inan tore past Kyril again, hooting like an owl. “Give me a moment,” Kyril told Rami, then turned his face away from the screen. “Hannah? Hannah, come out here.” Her reply was too muffled to hear, as if she were in a far room of whatever estate they were at. Rami didn’t recognize it as one of the royal properties. He gritted his teeth. What was it going to take to get Kyril to pay attention for long enough to—

  “What’s on your mind, brother?” Kyril was back. He gave Rami and arch look. “Trouble in paradise?” He laughed at what he clearly thought was a fantastic joke.

  “I need the jet.” Rami ignored Kyril’s comment completely. The last thing he wanted was for this conversation to devolve into a litany of jokes at Rami’s expense. “I need to come back from Texas now.”

  Kyril raised one eyebrow. “Aren’t you supposed to be in the States for another week?”

  “Why so many questions?” Rami shot back. “Have the jet sent to Texas.”

  Kyril shook his head. “I’m going to need more information than that. We’re on holiday in Italy, and tomorrow we fly to Spain.”

  “Everything is in shambles. Is that enough of an explanation?” Rami didn’t bother to keep the fury out of his expression.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I need the jet more than you do. Have it sent to Texas. As soon as possible. Can you charter a yacht? Hannah likes those more than planes.” Hannah and Kyril had told the story of their own whirlwind romance enough times that Rami didn’t have to reach for that detail. Though she didn’t seem to mind the private jet so much as she did commercial flights.

  “What’s in shambles, Rami?” Kyril insisted. “Did the deal fall through?”


  “Yes, the deal fell through. The deal might as well be dead.”

  “What happened?” In the background Inan started shouting again, and Kyril walked a little farther away, the noise receding slightly. “Did Morris flinch?”

  “She wanted Catelyn involved, and that can’t happen, for reasons that should be obvious to everyone. And now she’s gone and ruined everything.”

  “Who? Lydia Morris?”

  “Catelyn.”

  “I don’t—” Kyril shook his head. “How exactly has Catelyn gone from your partner in crime to ruining your life?”

  “She’s gone,” Rami burst out. “She’s furious with me for telling her the truth.”

  “What truth?”

  “The truth about her position in this family.” Rami tried to calm down, tried to slow down. “She can’t cosign the contract with me.”

  “Why not?”

  “She’s not a citizen, to begin with, and—” He didn’t want to go so far as to admit that they’d agreed to divorce after a year. “Approaching this as a couple will only invite chaos. Look at you and Hannah. Listen.” Inan was shrieking again, this time with laughter.

  Kyril waved him off. “Chaos? This is nothing. This is life. And I wouldn’t give it up for anything. If you’re afraid of a little chaos, Rami, then you’re going to miss the best parts of what this world has to offer.”

  “It’s loud and disruptive,” Rami argued.

  “So what?” Kyril laughed. “Soon it will be even louder. Hannah’s pregnant again.”

  Rami’s mouth fell open in shock. “I—congratulations.”

  Hannah’s face appeared next to Kyril’s on the screen. “Hi, Rami,” she said, eyes sparkling. “I see Kyril told you the happy news.”

  “Congratulations,” he repeated.

  Hannah swatted Kyril’s shoulder. “You’re making us late for dinner,” she said affectionately.

  “I’ll be right there,” he said, and as if they were alone, he turned his face to hers and kissed her—a slow, passionate kiss that made Rami want to look away. So he did. They were so happy that he couldn’t bear to face it.

  “Will we see you soon, Rami?” Hannah’s voice brought his attention back to the screen.

  “Sooner if Kyril lets me have the plane.”

  Hannah laughed, the sound bright. “You can’t have the plane. We coordinated these dates months ago. Enjoy yourself in the States, okay?” She turned her head sharply, called, “Inan, no!” and darted away.

  Kyril watched her leave, then faced Rami again. “Give me a good reason,” he said softly. “Tell me one good reason why she’s ruining your life.”

  For the second time that day, Rami was speechless.

  “That’s what I thought,” said Kyril. “Love isn’t always easy, little brother. It’s not always orderly. It’s not always as clean as a business arrangement. Sometimes it’s chaos. But it’s always worth it.” He nodded to himself. “I’m not sending the plane back early. I don’t need any more details, but I have the sense you owe someone an apology.”

  Kyril was right.

  He’d been a complete ass in more ways than one. Without Catelyn, he wouldn’t have had a chance at the contract—it would have been over the very first night they met. She was the only reason he had been invited back to Lydia’s estate at all.

  “I have some calls to make,” Rami told Kyril.

  “Good luck,” Kyril said, and he disconnected the call.

  Rami had to make this right, and he had to start this very moment.

  Rami flipped through the contacts on his phone, his thumb hovering over Catelyn’s name. He badly wanted to call her one more time to see if she’d answer, but first things first—he would have to do the hard thing. The thing he did not want to do. The thing he’d bene trying to avoid all this time.

  He’d have to call Lydia and ask her, hat in hand, to hold off on giving the contract to someone else.

  Rami needed another chance. He needed Catelyn’s good graces. And he didn’t know if he’d get either one.

  But he dialed the phone anyway.

  19

  The bedroom hadn’t changed since Catelyn had left it behind at the age of eighteen to go to college.

  It was so strange, pushing the door open into the stillness that had settled on the room. Her bedroom had once been her sanctuary, and it had held all the various pieces of her life. Now, it was more of a museum. The bed still had the same pink bedspread, and all the pictures she’d collected throughout her school years still hung on bulletin boards on the walls.

  She took a deep breath and sat down on the bed, the old springs creaking beneath her. All around her, the house was quiet. Her parents were not home. They, of course, were still on their honeymoon cruise.

  And Catelyn was at her childhood home without them, which was strange enough.

  She’d needed a place to stay the night before her flight to New Jersey and couldn’t face the thought of a sterile hotel room on the outskirts of town. It seemed torturous to have to talk to a person at a reception desk and act like everything was fine when it wasn’t.

  What the hell had happened to Rami at Lydia’s?

  Everything they’d done had been because they needed each other, and Catelyn had been feeling more and more that the need they shared was about more than business. The time they spent together in the bedroom was fierce and hot and fun, but it was also restorative in a way that she hadn’t expected. When she and Rami were in bed together, nothing else mattered—her head was clear. The trials of the wedding planning business no longer nagged at her. She felt ready to face the world. To conquer it.

  It was too strange to sit in her old bedroom for long, so Catelyn went back into the hallway. The wall leading to the stairs was full of pictures, and she lingered in front of them, searching for evidence that her parents had hated each other enough to get divorced more than once.

  Her parents had been unhappy. She was sure of it. They’d fought and split up more times than she could count, and she’d carried that with her into adulthood. No wonder Rami’s offer of a year of marriage had been so attractive. The truth was, love was fickle, and it was always best to have an exit strategy. Her parents had proven that.

  But looking at the photos on the wall, she couldn’t find any hint of it.

  In every picture of her parents, they were smiling. Laughing. Holding hands. Teasing each other. Yes, it was true—they’d gotten divorced or separated again and again, but here they were, getting remarried and throwing commitment ceremonies an equal number of times. Her mother had worn at least six different wedding dresses. All those pictures were outnumbered by the photos that contained all three of them, arms thrown around each other—in the front yard, on vacation, at the local ice cream shop.

  These pictures, she realized with a start, weren’t a warning not to fall in love. They were a testament to the power of falling anyway, even when it hurt.

  Over and over, her parents had tried again. They’d refused to give up on each other, even when they couldn’t stand each other. Even when it caused a rift in the entire family. She couldn’t forget the Thanksgiving that had been so awful—the sullen silences, the cutting remarks—when she’d known they were going to split. She’d known that was going to be the end of it, and her stomach had roiled with that knowledge all day. For years, Catelyn had hated that memory. She’d told the story often in the course of becoming intimate friends with other people, especially Laura and Daisy.

  And yet she’d never seen the flip side.

  They’d been so pissed at each other that year, but they’d still come together for a family celebration. Her parents had failed miserably at making it a celebration, but they’d given it a shot. Both of them had been hurt. Both of them had reasons.

  Catelyn’s mother had never taken down the photos.

  She raised a hand and ran her fingertips along the lower edge of one of the frames. It held a portrait of the happy couple on yet another wedding day, her mother wearing
her fourth wedding dress. This photo, along with all the others, had remained in the same spot on the wall.

  Even when they were fighting, even when they were separated, her mother had left the photos hanging up. For everyone to see.

  There were two sides to every story—at least. Her parents’ story had many sides. But the most important side of all was the way they fought for each other. That was what mattered, in the end.

  Catelyn went down the stairs, heart stinging with regret.

  She shouldn’t have walked away from Rami like that.

  The list of mistakes, she saw, went all the way back to that first agreement. Why hadn’t she insisted on something different? Why had she chosen the most painful path? It was stupid, to put up so many barriers between them. The agreement to divorce after a year was a black cloud over them both, something that dogged them even in their happiest moments. It was like they were begging the universe to keep them firmly apart so that they could never fall in love and risk heartbreak.

  Well, heartbreak had come anyway. Catelyn had turned her back on him. And Rami had turned his back on her. He’d dismissed her after all they’d done to prepare for this meeting—dismissed her outright, in front of Lydia. It didn’t matter that they’d sworn that the arrangement was business. It didn’t matter at all. It hurt just as much.

  The street outside Catelyn’s parents’ house fell into shadow as the sun set, and she flipped the lock on the front door and turned on all the lights. She cooked herself a batch of buttery noodles and brought it to the same sofa that had sat in her parents’ living room for years, under the blanket her mom had picked out from a department store in the mall when Catelyn was sixteen.

  It was lonely, but at least it was familiar.

  Catelyn slept in her old bed that night, and every time she woke up, she had trouble placing herself in time. She listened for the creak of her mother’s footsteps on the other side of the hall, remembering after a few beats that they weren’t there.