Her Secret Sheik

  By Elizabeth Lennox

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  Copyright 2022

  ISBN13: 9781950451548

  All rights reserved

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Any duplication of this material, either electronic or any other format, either currently in use or a future invention, is strictly prohibited, unless you have the direct consent of the author.

  Table of Contents

  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

  Epilogue

  Excerpt from “The Sheik’s Redemption”

  Chapter 1

  The stupid frills were in the way! Twelve year old Amilee hated the dress her mother had chosen. She hated walking down the long ceremonial room, and she hated her parents for betrothing her to a man she despised!

  Deep down, Amilee knew she didn’t really hate any of…okay, she truly hated the ridiculous dress. But her anger was really just a cover for nervousness. But seriously, no one wanted to walk down a stupid red carpet towards one’s “betrothed”. Amilee didn’t really understand what a “betrothed” was. Did her parents truly expect her to marry someone she’d never even met?

  And why would anyone want to marry her, or “betroth” her, when she was wearing a stupid, pink dress with more layers of ruffles and frills than a china doll…and it made her look stupid! She was finally twelve years old, and yet, her mother had forced her to wear this idiotic dress and…! Amilee had argued with her mother, begging her to select a dress that didn’t make her look like a cupcake! And pink! Good grief, only little girls wore pink!

  Amilee tugged at the hem of her dress, wishing the hem ended at her knees or down at her toes. Wearing a dress that ended right above her anklebones made her feel so awkward. In her opinion, the length of the dress looked like she’d grown half a foot and no one had bothered to let out the hem! She felt stupid. She looked stupid. And Amilee really didn’t get what all the fuss was about.

  A tall, dark haired jerk walked down the steps from the dais. Amilee eyed him curiously, wondering why he looked so stiff and…boring. And tall. The guy was definitely tall!

  She looked up into his dark, dark eyes and…and nothing, because the guy ignored her, facing forward. Thankfully, he didn’t try to touch her. Ick! Amilee turned and gazed up at Sheik What’s-his-name, trying to remember everything she was supposed to do during the ceremony. Fortunately, her main job was to stand still while the man off to the right spouted some nonsense about “sacred promises” and “forever bound”. She didn’t understand and didn’t really care.

  Unfortunately, her eyes kept flitting to the man standing beside her looking so formal and scary. She supposed he was handsome enough, if one liked the dark and dangerous type. The dark hair and dark eyes were…fine. Unfortunately, the irises of his eyes were so dark that Amilee couldn’t differentiate his irises from the rest of his eyes. Also, she had dark hair and dark eyes. So…whatever. The guy standing next to her was fine, she conceded. He wasn’t like the singer in her new favorite group. The lead singer in “Flaming Ferns”, Tim Coltar, had blue eyes and soft, full lips.

  “Ms. Amilee Lahgami,” the dour faced man standing on the dais bellowed so that the whole room could hear, “Do you willingly accept this betrothal, under no duress?”

  Amilee quaked in her pink satin shoes. She tilted her head back to look up at the man. He was so tall. Or maybe she was just incredibly short. He looked down his long, thin nose at her and, when Amilee hesitated, he lifted a dark, sardonic eyebrow. She pulled her eyes away and searched for her mother. Seeing her nod, Amilee sighed inwardly, remembering the rehearsals she’d gone through over the past few days. Turning back to the loud doofus in front of her, she nodded. “Yes,” she stated clearly, remembering her father’s instructions that she had to speak her agreement loudly so that everyone in the room behind her could hear. Witnesses. She didn’t understand any of this so…whatever, she mentally rolled her eyes. Agreeing seemed like the easiest way to finish this so she could find the cake that had been promised to her. She’d even gotten to choose the flavor this time! Lemon! Lemon cake was her favorite!

  Thankfully, when she uttered the “right” words, the man in front of her stopped glowering and lifted his eyes to look at the man beside her. “And do you, Prince Rian al Sayed, accept the terms of this betrothal?”

  Beside her, the annoying man’s voice boomed loud and clear. “I accept.”

  In front of her, the loud guy nodded, beaming his approval as he raised his hand. The large and ornate gold ring on the man’s finger transfixed Amilee. She remembered someone explaining that the ring was important and only worn during significant ceremonies. Amilee thought the heavy, gold ring was ugly, but kept her opinion to herself. The man gestured for both her and the guy beside her to step forward. Her father and Sheik Safir al Sayed, Rian’s father, stepped forward as well.

  “Sign here, dear.” Someone put a pen in her hand, but Amilee was looking at the Sheik. He didn’t look happy. Or maybe he just didn’t feel good. There was a grey tinge to his skin that reminded her of someone she’d seen in the hospital last year.

  “Right here, Amilee,” her father urged, pointing to a line on the wrinkled-looking document. The pen was heavy and decorative. She’d practiced signing her name with it yesterday. She stared at the document. Unfortunately, she was so nervous with so many people watching her and the line…she couldn’t actually see the line. Amilee’s mother cleared her throat. Amilee knew that her mother wanted her to sign the document. They’d practiced over and over! But not with an audience.

  With a heavy sigh, Amilee peeked up through her lashes at the man beside her. He looked confused and concerned with her hesitation. Amilee sighed and reached into her dress pocket, pulling her glasses out. Sliding them onto her nose, she looked down at the document and, with relief, was able to see the line where she was supposed to sign. “Sorry,” she whispered, picking up the heavy, ceremonial pen as she carefully signed her name, unaware of her tongue peeking out of the corner of her mouth as she focused.

  When she finished, Amilee was proud of the delicate scrawl and stepped back, waiting as her father signed right below her name. Apparently, he had to sign as well because she was too young, which didn’t make sense to her at all. When this had been explained to her yesterday, she’d asked why she was being betrothed if she was too young, but everyone had simply chuckled as if she’d asked a silly question.

  Then it was her “betrothed’s” turn to sign the document. Crown Prince Rian leaned down and scribbled his signature, obviously not nearly as concerned with his penmanship as she’d been. Nor did he have trouble with the heavy pen, which really annoyed Amilee. Was she the only one in this room that struggled with this stuff?

  He stepped back, handing the pen to his father. The handsome ruler of Abidnae signed his name as a witness. It also irritated Amilee that Rian’s father only had to witness everyone’s signature while her father had to sign his agreement under her signature. That didn’t seem fair, but…whatever. Rian was twenty years old, so he was legally an adult. It still didn’t make sense that she could be “betrothed” at such a young age to a man who was already in college. It sounded ridiculous, but her parents had explained what a “delightful privilege” this was for Amilee. She didn’t feel “delighted”! Plus, standing here in front of all of these people who were staring at her, wearing a giant, frilly, pink dress…she didn’t feel as if this was any great “privilege” either. In her mind, this whole scene was just a big pain in the butt! Yes, she knew that she wasn’t supposed to say “butt”. However, she hadn’t said it. She’d only thought it! And no one could control her thoughts, she reminded herself with increasing resentment.

  As soon as all the signatures were done, the older man turned to the crowd and lifted his hands. “The betrothal is official. Let us celebrate!”

  There was a round of polite applause, as if Amilee and Rian had done something stupendous, instead of simply signing their names on a piece of paper. But Amilee didn’t care. She was hungry. She wanted that promised lemon cake! Amilee also knew there were cheese puffs on the menu and strawberry lemonade. She was eager to try both, but she’d also been told that she needed to stand here, waiting for the annoying applause to die down.

  Thankfully, the ornate, double doors opened and a bevy of servants appeared wearing immaculate livery in the blue and gold of Abidnae, carrying heavy trays filled with sparkling champagne. The crowd who had patiently witnessed the ceremony, cheered more for the champagne than the stupid signing ceremony, percolating in Amilee’s mind that whatever she’d just signed couldn’t have been all that important. The servants hurriedly passed out champagne, barely needing to move since the crowd of gawkers surged towards the sp
arkling stuff like a tidal wave. Amilee didn’t like champagne, and eagerly watched for a servant carrying a tray of the promised lemonade!

  “You did an excellent job!” her father told her, placing a hand briefly on her back. Amilee smiled up at her father, feeling a rush of pride. Her father was a good man, tall and proud, and Amilee knew that he was an important member of Sheik Sayed’s government. “Thanks Dad,” she whispered.

  Amilee searched the crowd, finding her mother smiling and laughing among a group of other women. Suppressing the familiar stab of pain, Amilee turned away. Her mother had never been the “motherly” type, as her father had said on several occasions. Amilee told herself that she should be relieved that her mother was safely occupied. If her mother bothered to speak with Amilee, she would probably list all the things she’d done wrong during the ceremony. Including pulling out her glasses!

  The dark-eyed man, Rian…her “betrothed”…looked down and offered her a patronizing smile. “I was impressed, Amilee.”

  Aimlee smiled crookedly, not sure what she’d done that was so great. All she’d done is answer a question and sign her name. Seemed like a stupid ceremony to her. But she knew she should be polite, so she replied with an appropriate, “Thank you,” and added a small curtsy. Her mother had forced her to practice her curtsies over and over. Thankfully, Amilee didn’t tip over and embarrass herself this time, although she’d looked ridiculous during her practice sessions over the past few days. But even if she had fallen over, no one would have noticed. The guests were moving towards the buffet lines. It also seemed as if everyone had a glass of bubbly champagne in hand, and yet, she still couldn’t see a waiter with the lemonade! This was so unfair!

  Amilee’s impatience must have come through on her features because her mother broke away from her friends. “I know you’re hungry, dear,” her mother whispered, patting Amilee’s shoulder. “As the guests of honor, you’ll have to wait until the witnesses are served.”

  Amilee sighed. She didn’t like this “betrothal” business. Seemed like a lot of fuss about nothing to her.

  Rian smothered his amusement at his “betrothed’s” obvious irritation. She was a tiny little thing. Only twelve years old. Several months ago, when his father had presented the betrothal contract for Rian’s review, he’d found himself hesitating, arguing that a twelve year old child shouldn’t be bound to a stranger for the rest of her life. Rian and his father had discussed the issue at length and his concerns had been appeased, and yet, today, those misgivings had resurfaced. Stating that the girl’s family had explained everything and that this was just the normal way of arranging a marriage had seemed fine previously, but seeing Amilee now, seeing her obvious confusion, he wasn’t sure anymore. It didn’t seem…right.

  “So, you’re betrothed,” a sarcastic, feminine voice called out.

  Rian turned to find his college friends approaching, champagne glasses in hand, although most of those glasses were already empty.

  Rian turned, offering his arm to the small girl beside him, trying to include her while at the same time, giving his friends a quelling look. He’d invited his friends here for the weekend, forgetting that they weren’t from his country and thus didn’t understand the ancient traditions his country embraced. As the future leader of his country, Rian understood those traditions and grasped the importance of the rituals for his people, even if he didn’t fully agree with them. His friends…not so much.

  “Amilee, these are my school friends,” he explained, putting a protective hand on her shoulder. “This is Roger, Andrea, Razeen, and Phillip.” He turned to his friends, “Everyone, this is my betrothed, Amilee.”

  Roger was the first to step forward, extending his hand with a gallant bow. “Amilee, it is a pleasure to meet you. You’re far braver than I, my dear.” Roger gave Amilee a playful wink, brushed a kiss to her knuckles, then released her hand as he stepped back, rejoining the group.

  Roger was a follower, Rian thought, restraining himself from taking Amilee’s hand in his and wiping Roger’s kiss away. He definitely was not a leader, and perhaps a bit of a friend-leech. But he’d been kind to Amilee and that counted for something.

  Andrea snickered, but quickly masked her amusement when Rian glared at her. When she then stepped closer, her features were the epitome of kindness and respect as Andrea extended her hand to Amilee as well. “Your dress is lovely,” Andrea said as she shook Amilee’s hand.

  Rian could feel Amilee move closer to him and he looked down, caught Amilee taking in Andrea’s sophisticated sheath dress that fit her athletic frame like a glove and wished that he could do something, say something, to make Amilee feel better about her pink dress. It was a bit…well, it wasn’t particularly flattering for her petite frame.

  If Rian needed another hint that his newly betrothed felt self-conscious, Amilee tugged at one of the ruffles on her dress. Rian just knew she hated the dress. He suspected that Andrea knew it too, and was just being her normal slightly bitchy self by bringing it up.

  But that was Andrea. He’d never been entirely comfortable with Andrea’s snarky comments, but she was a lot of fun most of the time. If she had an occasionally irritating habit of belittling others, well, she kept it hidden most of the time.

  Phillip stepped up next and bowed to Amilee. “Amilee, you are a lovely young lady.” He paused to wink at her. “You will make a beautiful princess some day.”

  Amilee’s eyes narrowed and Rian fought down a chuckle. Obviously, Amilee didn’t like the idea of being a princess! How odd!

  Razeen stepped forward and he could see the malicious intent glinting in her eyes. “Don’t!” he snapped, stepping closer to Amilee as if he could somehow protect her from Razeen’s inevitably harsh words. Razeen was superficially beautiful, but she could be malicious when she felt snubbed.

  Razeen’s eyes met his, blinking innocently. “I was only going to congratulate her on her betrothal!” she replied in a breathy voice. It was the odd smile afterward that Rian didn’t like.

  Razeen bent down, hands braced on her knees, as if she were talking to a toddler. “When you grow up, you’re going to be a very important person because of your connection to Rian.” She winked and straightened up, then shot a sultry look at Rian. He understood that look and shuddered. Yes, he and Razeen had been more than friends at one time. But no longer. He’d broken things off with her several months ago, although Razeen hadn’t fully agreed that the intimate aspect of their friendship was over.

  “Come on, everyone,” Razeen called out, dangling her empty champagne glass in the air with delicate fingers that showed off her bright red manicure. “Let’s go find more booze!”

  The others laughed, following Razeen away. Rian gritted his teeth, irritated by their behavior. On the surface, each had greeted Amilee politely. But he’d heard the undercurrents of amusement.

  With a sigh, he turned back to his young betrothed. “I’m sorry about that, Amilee,” he said when they were “alone”. “They’re usually more…polite than that.”

  Amilee sighed, smoothing a hand self-consciously down over the multiple layers of ruffles. Her tiny chin lifted slightly, as if she were trying to gird herself against the memory of his friends’ comments.

  But Amilee merely shrugged, dismissing the subtle insults. “It’s okay. They’re just jealous that I’m your betrothed. Especially Razeen.” She lifted her soft, brown gaze up to meet his and he was struck by the intelligence in that gaze. “She wants to be your girlfriend.”

  Stunned, Rian had to remind himself that she was only twelve and not the twenty-something that her insightful comment indicated. Rian’s gaze moved from Razeen’s bony, retreating shoulders down to Amilee, surprised by her understanding of the situation. When he looked up again, Razeen was glancing over her shoulder in a “come hither” pose.

  “You are very perceptive,” he said. When he glanced down at her again, Amilee was looking around, craning her neck as if searching for something.

  Amilee sighed with what he suspected was resignation. “There’s only champagne to drink.”

  He glanced down at her again. “Would you like some?” He wouldn’t allow it, of course, but he was startled to find himself fascinated by this girl-child who would eventually become his wife. They’d met briefly before this signing ceremony, but he hadn’t really spoken to her. There hadn’t been time to have actual conversations. Besides, how could he truly converse with a girl eight years his junior? Her world was still evolving and changing so rapidly, her opinion about a subject today might be completely different tomorrow. Which had been one of his arguments against this betrothal. But Rian’s father had waved the argument away, explaining that his betrothal would provide reassurance to the people in their country, guaranteeing them succession of their family line.