The Sheikh’s Unexpected Son: The Blooming Desert Series Book Three

by North, Leslie

  Lise blinked. “Are you?”

  Ingeborg tsked her. “Of course I’m impressed with you. You’ve managed to do all this inside the happiest marriage I’ve ever seen, and you’re so hands-on with Jake. I’m very impressed. I’m very proud.” She kissed Lise’s cheek again and left her standing there, blinking, while Lise and her father embraced and exchanged the usual greetings. He followed Ingeborg to a pair of seats on the other side of the tent a minute later.

  “Congratulations.” A man extended his hand to shake. “The parade is in your honor today.”

  “Everyone’s honor,” Lise told Mahir Adli, Hamid’s right-hand man, beaming. He and his wife had spent the last five years chasing their son, and it showed—he had lost all his sympathy weight, and she glowed with pride as their son joined in with the other children. “This was a team effort.”

  Raed strode through the tent, his eyes focused on a printout of the speech he intended to give about the programs he’d put in place, particularly one that focused on microfinance in rural areas. Jake ran at him from the side, but Raed caught him and tucked him close to his side. He stayed close while Raed went over his speech.

  Lise plucked the paper from his hands. “Let me see that. I think it needs a few final touches.”

  “Final touches? It only needs a bit more memorization so I can give it without looking at the paper.”

  “Nope. See—you’ve got an error here.” She pulled a pen from her pocket and scribbled something down on the sheet. “There. All better. Now you won’t embarrass yourself in front of the entire country.”

  He cracked a grin and bent low to brush his lips against hers, which earned him a disgusted noise from Jake, then swept the paper out of her hands. “What did you change?”

  Lise watched his eyes as he read over her notes. At first, he squinted slightly to bring them into focus, and then his dark eyes went wide. A matching thrill heated behind her breastbone. She was never going to get tired of the way Raed looked when he was shocked and excited. “Wife and children?”

  She put her hands on the side of his face and kissed him. “Children,” she repeated.

  Raed dropped his hand down to her belly in a protective gesture that made her melt, but there was no bump there yet. It wouldn’t be obvious for a few months. “This is the way you tell me? Lise, I have to go make a speech.”

  Lise glanced pointedly up at Jake. “And what would you do instead?”

  “Talk,” he answered, just as pointedly. “There’s a lot going on, and we could use a few minutes to talk.”

  “Sure.” She kissed his cheek again. “But you know we couldn’t be the only couple with just one. Your brother has two and a third on the way, and Gina and Skandar—”

  Jake scrambled to get down, and Raed let him, and then he pulled Lise close for a lingering kiss. “I’m so grateful to have a family with you.” His voice hummed with emotion. “Especially you.” Jake barreled into them then, pushing them apart.

  “The parade’s starting,” he cried. “It’s time for your speech, and then the parade can start.”

  “I’ve got it, buddy.” Raed took his hand and the two of them hugged Lise one more time, then went down to the space in front of the platform, where Raed would address the country.

  This was it. Lise was watching her entire life step out into the sun. There was more than that, too. A new family in Qasha. Her parents here, celebrating despite the fact that they would have work—they always had work. They could fit in here, too. They could visit and form relationships with her children and be there for all the important milestones.

  Five years. It had taken five years for her to get pregnant, and she saw the sheer relief in Raed’s face as he smoothed the paper for his speech out again and again and chatted with Jake before they turned the microphone on. It had been a long game to play, with many months of waiting, and Lise had never thought it would take this long. She dropped her own hands to her belly. This would be one interesting announcement to make, and the press would be waiting—they were always waiting, with a royal family member like Raed. He was so handsome, and so invested in Qasha, that reporters couldn’t stay away.

  Why would they? Lise couldn’t stay away.

  But she hadn’t announced to the rest of the family yet, and time was running out. Oh, her family. Nenet was her family now, and Hamid and Tali and all their children. Gina and Skandar and their children were her family, too, and this moment was one of sweet anticipation. In just under a minute, they would know she was pregnant, and it would be another cause for celebration today. They already had so many. They were so lucky to have this one more.

  Lise squared her shoulders and blinked away the grateful tears that had started to form in her eyes. No time for crying now. She had to tell her family the greatest news. And look—there they were, waiting for her.

  End of The Sheikh’s Unexpected Son

  The Blooming Desert Series Book Three

  The Sheikh’s Fake Engagement, 5 November 2020

  The Sheikh’s Pregnant Foreigner, 12 November 2020

  The Sheikh’s Unexpected Son, 19 November 2020

  PS: Do you love playboy billionaires? Then keep reading for an exclusive extract from The Sheikh’s Surprise Twins.

  Thank you!

  Thank you so much for purchasing my book. It’s hard for me to put into words how much I appreciate my readers. If you enjoyed this book, please remember to leave a review. Reviews are crucial for an author’s success and I would greatly appreciate it if you took the time to review the book. I love hearing from you!

  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.

  Find your next Leslie North book visit LeslieNorthBooks.com or choose:

  PS: Want sneak peeks, giveaways, ARC offers, fun extras and plenty of pictures of bad boys? Join my Facebook group, Leslie’s Lovelies!

  BLURB

  Holly Remington can’t believe the burning chemistry she feels with Sheikh Malik Abdul-Rahman. It’s like getting knocked in the head with a baseball bat—except far more pleasant. Though she’s supposed to be all business while her company tries to win a lucrative development contract in the oil-rich country of Qadir, Holly simply can’t stop herself from happily succumbing to his charm. When she’s called back home after her father suffers a stroke, thoughts of her sheikh romance are never far away. It’s only when she’s ready to return to Qadir to continue her work that she discovers Malik gave her more than sexy memories. She’s pregnant—with twins. And when she sees him again, Malik makes it painfully clear he’s not only rejecting her development proposal, he’s not interested in any other formal proposal either. He wants all of her.

  But Holly isn’t sure that’s available, or ever will be.

  Sheikh Malik has never reacted to another woman like he does Holly. She’s all business—at least in the beginning—and he finds himself oddly compelled to get to know her other side. Intimately. When he finds out she’s pregnant with his children, he find himself wanting her more. But when Holly begins to talk about how she wants to develop his oasis herself—the one that her company had been desperate to buy and the very one his mother loved and hoped one day would belong to Malik’s future wife, he pulls the breaks on their whirlwind romance. How can he love a woman who seems so out of touch with everything he values?

  And yet, how can he not love the only woman whose ever touched his soul?

  Grab your copy of The Sheikh’s Surprise Twins (Qadir Sheikhs Book One) from

  www.LeslieNorthBooks.com

  * * *

  EXCERPT

  Chapter One

  “Stunning. Absolutely stunning.”

  Malik looked out over the oasis and wracked his brain for the name of the man who stood next to him at the edge of a te
nt. Whoever he was, he was right—the oasis was perfection. Malik had always thought so, ever since he was a boy. He’d been visiting all his life and still considered it to be the most beautiful place in all Qadir.

  That was true even in comparison to all the other properties that belonged to the royal family. Back in the old days—the truly old days—the ruling family had taken a trip around the country once per year, staying at many of their smaller palaces and estates. Some had since been turned into museums. Some were still private vacation getaways.

  The oasis was none of those. The jewel in the center of the desert sprung up around a crystal pool fed by an underground reservoir deep beneath the surface. Date palms and green plants surrounded the pool, all of it looking so lush it could have been a mirage on the dunes.

  Malik, standing at the edge of the enormous white tent perched on a dune overlooking the pool, had been thinking of his mother when the CEO from the French firm came to stand next to him. Name. What was his name?

  “It is,” he agreed, and the name came to him in a flash. Enzo Raphael. One of France’s premier property developers, and one of ten the royal family had invited to this gathering near his late mother’s oasis.

  “I could see using it as inspiration for another property,” commented Enzo, lifting his champagne flute to his lips. “There’s something raw about it. I could strip it down to its essentials and create something utterly modern. A new form.”

  A new form—all right. A vision of some pointed spire with an unnatural bend to the building flashed into Malik’s mind, and he mentally crossed Enzo off the list of potential contractors.

  “Interesting,” he told Enzo. “Keep us apprised of your thoughts, would you?”

  “Of course.” Enzo inclined his head and stepped gracefully aside.

  Whatever Malik thought of ultra-modern buildings and new forms, the man did have excellent manners.

  Malik turned to face the inside of the tent, which buzzed with conversation. His brothers Baqir and Zaman sat at a table with two developers from Germany, plates heaping with the catered meal. It had been no small project, Malik knew, to bring all the food out to the oasis, but he’d wanted the developers to gather here first before they came to him with their proposals.

  His father, King Hasim, had put him in charge of the first five development locations. This was only the beginning of his increased responsibilities as crown prince, and Malik knew it for what it was—a test.

  His father would never abdicate if he thought Malik was unfit to lead Qadir. So everything he did from now on, including this event, had to go off without a hitch.

  At any rate, the oasis was the perfect gathering point—neutral ground. Under no circumstances would he let any of them develop the property. It had come into the royal family through his father’s marriage to his mother, and Malik’s future wife would decide for herself what to do with it when the time came.

  It was that mystery woman’s right. His mother had left it to him in her will, with conditions. Ultimately the oasis would belong to Malik’s bride, but he felt a sharp pang behind his breastbone and his throat went dry whenever he remembered that his mother would never see his theoretical wedding ceremony.

  Maybe it hadn’t been an excellent idea to have everyone meet at the oasis.

  Malik put that thought, and all the other melancholy ones, out of his mind. He’d met three of the developers so far, including Enzo. He knew Baqir and Zaman had talked to several as well. And the king? Malik scanned the tables, each covered in a pristine white cloth. His father had been out walking at the edge of the pool. Now he was tucked at one of the tables with Clifton Berber.

  The two men were friends from their college days. Clifton’s invitation had been at the king’s express request, though Malik wasn’t sure an American developer would be able to do the properties in Qadir justice. The royal family had visited the States several times over the years, and nothing about the architecture had impressed Malik. Most of their portfolio was full of high rises, steel and glass towers that would look fine in New York City but tear at the beauty of the desert.

  Keep an open mind. It wouldn’t do him any good to write anyone off now. He mentally returned Enzo to the list. He had to hold back, at least a little. As king, he would need to be able to weigh all the available options and leave his personal biases out of it.

  He had seven more developers to meet with. It was time to wade back into the fray. Two of them stood near the catering table, plates in hand. He’d start there.

  Malik took one step toward the table. His foot was still six inches from the temporary hardwood floor of the tent when he saw her.

  His heart missed a step, tumbling into his rib cage and landing near the pit of his stomach.

  Gorgeous. She was gorgeous. No—stunning. And something altogether different from any of the other women at the event. The four women in charge of development companies wore a uniform of sleeveless black dresses topped with gauzy coverups for their shoulders, and their assistants wore similar outfits.

  Not this woman.

  Her pantsuit was all sharp edges, whiter than the tablecloths. She’d swept her blonde hair back into an equally sharp bun.

  Who was she here with?

  Malik had made his entrance fifteen minutes after the developers, a move that was calculated to let them get comfortable in the space and mingle with one another before he arrived. His father had gone early with Clifton, his brothers stepping in shortly afterward. Why had he insisted on being the last to arrive if she was in here?

  He didn’t know the first thing about her, and he wanted to know everything.

  She paused at the opposite entrance to the tent, probably letting her eyes adjust, and then she gave a subtle wave with her hand. Malik followed the motion with his eyes.

  The table where his father sat with Clifton.

  Clifton raised a hand and nodded to her. Then he turned back to King Hasim.

  A minute ago, Malik would have chosen to sit down at Clifton’s table and talk with his father’s friend. It was the safe bet with good timing—not late enough in the reception for Clifton to feel Malik had neglected him, but not so early that his father would think he needed reassurance.

  Malik did not need reassurance. He needed to know who the woman in the white suit was.

  She lingered at the open side of the tent and swept her eyes over the room, and Malik put his foot down on the hardwood. Thank God she hadn’t seen his stumble. She hadn’t looked at him. He knew, somehow, that when she finally did it would be a shock to his system. Everything about her looked like a shock to his system, from her hair to her outfit to her…matching white boots.

  Boots.

  The rest of the women in the room wore black flats or low heels.

  The only element of black about the woman—who was somehow connected to Clifton—was a black camera strap across her chest.

  He took one more glance at his father’s table and around the tent. They were all involved in conversation. Malik turned to a waiter nearby, one with a tray of champagne flutes in his hands, and snagged two of them.

  By the time he looked back, she was gone.

  He looked toward the oasis—there she was, walking toward the date palms with a determined stride. She had not been a mirage.

  Malik went after her.

  He caught up with her at the edge of the pool, where she stood in the shade of a tree. She had lifted the camera to her face and was snapping pictures when he came up alongside her.

  “This place is prime,” she said, her voice low and excited. “There are so many options for—oh!” She let the camera fall to her side, and he got his first close view of her face. Heart-shaped lips. Big green eyes. Perfection. “I’m so sorry, Sheikh Malik. I thought you were Mr. Berber.”

  “Sorry to disappoint,” he joked, offering her a champagne flute. She took it. “You already know who I am, but we haven’t been introduced.”

  “Holly Remington.” She offered her right hand
to shake, planting her feet firmly into the earth. “I work with Mr. Berber, as you might have gathered.” Holly’s grip was strong, unflinching. Malik was used to women blushing, their eyelashes fluttering to their cheeks. She met his gaze without a hint of shyness.

  Goose bumps rose on the back of his neck, tracing a path down to his spine. Different, something inside him called. She’s different.

  Malik released her hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Remington.”

  “A pleasure to meet you.” Her gaze was frank. “Thank you for the champagne, by the way. You didn’t need to bring it all the way out here for me.” She raised the flute to her lips and took a sip. Malik did his best not to notice the way her lips curved around the rim of the glass. He failed.

  “I didn’t want to approach empty handed.” He sipped his own champagne, the sweet bubbles dancing on his tongue.

  Holly laughed. “The view is enough for me.” She shook her head and looked back out over the pool, the water sparkling in the sun. “It’s incredible out here. I mean, truly incredible.” She let out a little sigh. “You’ve got a treasure on your hands.” Holly raised her free hand to her hair and tugged at the bun, loosening it a bit. A breeze picked up off the desert and stole a few more strands from the tight knot at the back of her head. Somehow, it looked even better than it had before.

  “I do,” agreed Malik, though the words shimmered with a strange double meaning. From the expression on Holly’s face, she understood. This wasn’t just a piece of land to be developed. It was special, verging on sacred.