“How are you feeling, Mrs. Sharqi?” Amare whispered in her ear, loving the sound of her new name on his lips.

  Bree smiled up at him and patted his hand. “I’m good. Nassir seems at ease as well, and he seems to have a thing for my wedding planner.”

  Amare nodded, nibbling on her earlobe. “You think so?”

  “Don’t you?” She pointed to where Nassir twirled Jack’s cousin Jenna around the dance floor.

  “Perhaps.” He shifted his gaze to where Jack leaned against the buffet table with a dark scowl on his face as he watched his cousin with Nassir. “I’m not sure how that will work out.”

  “Stranger things have happened.” She shrugged then turned to kiss him. “Look at us.”

  “True, hobi.” He swayed with her. “Would you like to dance?”

  “I thought you would never ask.”

  ***

  Karim watched his brother and new sister-in-law take to the dance floor and shook his head as Taleb joined him. “Well, that’s not something you see every day. Our little brother acting like a lovesick fool.”

  “If you think that’s interesting, you should check out that.” Taleb pointed toward Nassir and Jenna. “What do you make of his interest in the young American?”

  “I think she’s exactly the type of woman his board referred to when they suggested he find an American bride to prove he is neither anti-West, nor anti-woman.”

  “Ah.” Taleb nodded. “That would make sense, if it was all a business move.”

  “Of course it’s a business move. You don’t imagine Nassir is actually interested in her do you? Everything with that man is about his family’s business.”

  Taleb crossed his arms and continued to watch the couples on the floor, while Karim watched him. “They asked me to help him find a wife.”

  “Who?”

  “Nassir’s board.”

  Karim chuckled. “How perfect.”

  “They think it will help to improve their stock prices, him getting married. And they apparently don’t trust him to find a suitable woman himself.”

  Karim studied the young American woman named Jenna again from across the room. She was attractive and vibrant and related to Amare’s good friend, Jack. Perhaps she wouldn’t be such a bad choice after all. Except for her burly cousin, who did not appear to be happy about the new developments at all, if the way he was barreling down on them was any indication.

  “Why is Nassir paying so much attention to Jenna?” Jack asked, his expression dark.

  “He seems very taken with her,” Karim suggested, unable to keep from teasing the obviously agitated man a bit.

  “Like hell he does.” Jack turned as if to charge across the dance floor.

  Karim took his arm. “Just wait. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

  “Nothing?” Jack scoffed. “Doesn’t look like nothing to me.”

  “Trust me,” Karim assured him. “If the past is any indication, Nassir’s interest in your cousin is purely business.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  Karim looked from Nassir to Taleb then finally at Jack. “They call him the ‘Heartless Sheik’. A nickname he earned, believe me.”

  End of Book Four of the Sharqi Sheikhs Series

  Book One of ‘The Sheikhs of Adjalane Series’ Available from 20th December 2015.

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  “Come on, Erin. Help me out here, just this once. It’s not like you have anything else going on tonight.”

  Erin Malone watched her cousin, trying not to let the accuracy of her words cut like a knife. No. She didn’t have anything else going on tonight – or any other night in recent memory. Swallowing back the sarcastic retort that sprang to her lips, she stared at Shira, her wayward cousin whose social calendar didn’t know the meaning of a ‘night off.’

  When Shira continued to smile at her, bat her eyelashes, and give her a knowing grin, Erin couldn’t help the smile that reluctantly pulled at her mouth. What the hell! She probably owed herself a night of decadence and indulgence anyway.

  Shira’s grin grew as Erin began to nod her head, “I knew you’d agree!”

  “Hold on a minute,” Erin said, “I haven’t agreed to anything yet. Tell me what this party is for again?”

  She watched as her cousin rubbed her hands together in glee. Shira was the assistant marketing director for a large advertising firm and tonight they were celebrating having landed the most sought after commercial contract in their history – Jewel Oil. Her firm had been after the contract for almost a year, and just this afternoon, the final contracts had been signed and now it was time to celebrate.

  “I already told you, we’re celebrating winning the Jewel Oil contract.”

  Erin nodded, “I heard that part. Tell me again why you need my help.”

  Looking at her cousin, she was proud of the fine young woman she had become. After having lost both of her parents in a house fire when she was only ten, Erin’s parents had welcomed her into their home. Shira had been like a younger sister before, and as she grew into a teenager, they had become best friends.

  Only four years older than Shira, their bond never wavered after Erin left for college. When Shira graduated and started college, Erin had been in her second year of law school, and living on her own. She had insisted that Shira share her small condo with her and the two women had kept the arrangement for the last five years.

  “I need you to be my wing-woman tonight.”

  Erin watched her cousin for a moment, wondering at the uncertainty she could see lingering in her eyes. Shira was the most confident woman Erin knew, and though she wouldn’t admit it, she was often jealous of the ease with which she interacted with men. Seeing the apparent crack in her confidence was foreign in Erin’s experience.

  “What’s happened?” she demanded, willing and eager to come to her cousin’s rescue.

  Shira shook her head, “Nothing. That’s the problem. The execs from Jewel have been over here so many times in the last few months, and even though I’ve made it known I would gladly accept Kale’s advances, he’s keeping me at arm’s length. With the contracts signed, I don’t know how many more opportunities I may get to see him.”

  “Who’s Kale?”

  “Kale is one of the execs from Jawhara. I’m not sure exactly what his connection is to their leadership, but he’s always got at least two bodyguards with him. Although, several of the men traveling with their group this time around have personal bodyguards. Maybe that’s the custom over there, I don’t know.”

  “So what, you expect me to help you get this guy alone – away from his henchmen?”

  Shira shook her head, “No. Nothing like that. I just need you to be there. Maybe you could figure out why he’s playing this cat and mouse game with me. I’m missing something; I just can’t figure it out.”

  She sounded so miserable; Erin knew that she would end up going with her this evening. “Is he married?”

  “No!” she exclaimed, and then added, “I did check that out. He’s not married and according to the rumors, he doesn’t even have a steady girlfriend.”

  “Well, don’t worry about it. Doll yourself up and stay focused tonight. I’ll come and help out however you need me.”

  Shira smiled before jumping up from the couch where she had been sitting, “Great. I’ve got to get ready. Hey, we’re at the Whittemore.”

  Erin raised an eyebrow at that, “Really? Damon and Rick must really want to celebrate to have dished out that kind of money.”

  Shira giggled, “Well, I think Jewel Oil is picking up the tab, at least for part of it anyway. I overheard Kale talking with Rick earlier, and they’ve rented out the entire facility.”

  “Wow.” Erin had to admit she was impressed. Whittemore House was an old historic mansion; located only a block from the White House. The rooms had been restored and were now rented out as meeting rooms, banquet rooms, or for private parties. Erin hadn’t been inside the building since she toured it in high school, but she remembered being impressed by the interior décor.

  Shira nodded as she backed towards her room, “Yeah. Wait until you see the entourage from Jawhara. Kale may be gorgeous, but his countrymen aren’t that hard on the eyes either. Who knows, maybe someone will catch your eye tonight. You’re due for some fun.”

  Shooing her away, Erin headed for her own room, deciding she might as well make the best of the evening. How long had it been since she had done anything for fun? Just for herself? Six months? A year? Had she allowed herself to have fun since the incident with Steven?

  Shaking her head at where her thoughts had been headed, she mentally closed that door and headed for the shower. Maybe she would take Shira’s advice and see if she couldn’t catch the eye of a nice looking foreigner tonight. A little flirtation; exchange a few kisses and hugs. She gave her reflection in the bathroom mirror a self-deprecating smile as her libido jumped to attention.

  Erin had locked it away more than a year ago – when she had to find out through social media that her fiancé had been seeing someone else on the side for more than two years. Luckily, they had yet to discuss marriage, let alone make plans, but the betrayal still hurt. After the incident that had brought her dreams crashing to the ground, Erin immersed herself in work, stuffing away any ideas of relationships and the concept of a bit of fun had her libido anxious to come out and play again.

  Well, maybe she would loosen up and play this evening. It wasn’t as if she was going to find Prince Charming running around DC anytime soon. He was out there somewhere; and while she knew that he existed, she also knew that her chances of finding him in a city full of visiting dignitaries and tourists were slim.

  Tonight would be about fun. Nothing more. Nothing less. She would spend the evening flirting with men she would never see again, and tomorrow she would pick her boring little life back up again.

  Erin Malone knew how to have a good time, and that’s exactly what she intended to do.

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  His Stubborn Lover Excerpt

  When your job is protecting people, the first rule is…never mix business with pleasure.

  Keira Mantz has been given the job of a lifetime, and she refuses to fail. Trained as part of an elite security team, her first mission is to protect the Sheikh of Jawhara and his wife. What she thought would be a solo operation, though, is suddenly a two-person job. Her partner is none other than Brock Wells, the Viking-like team member who trained her. The last thing Keira wants is Brock stealing her thunder, but she’ll do whatever it takes to succeed—even if it means pretending to be in love.

  When Brock finds Keira in a bar fight and offers her a place on the team, he knows she is the right choice. With her mile-long legs, fierce determination, and unwavering focus, he has no doubt she can hold her own. But with the threat to the Sheikh closer than they realized, Brock has no choice but to intervene. To give them the cover they need, they’ll have to act like they’re a couple. Although Brock told himself he’d never get close to another woman, the job always comes first.

  When their ruse becomes a little too real, can Keira and Brock risk letting their guards down, or will admitting their feelings put others’ lives in danger?

  Available now, CLICK HERE.

  Brock Wells exited the bar, heading for his ’66 Mustang. The twang of a sad love song followed him out, and his head buzzed with the four beers he’d had. The team had just finished a training operation in South America and Slade had given everyone some much needed time off—meaning Brock had come home hoping to find some female company.

  He’d hit a bar that was a ways off from his usual haunts, looking for a stranger with doe eyes and a body that could make him forget just about everything. Tonight, however, his batting average was about as good as the one of whoever wrote that love song.

  Well, it was probably better this way. Slade had no rules against team members getting hooked up outside of the teams, but he also didn’t like sending anyone into the thick of things if they had attachments. That was where Brock liked to be—in the middle of the worst trouble. This meant that Brock liked his girls for one night only, and every girl in that bar had had the hungry look of a woman hunting a man.

  It looked like it was going to be an early night with the UFC channel and a few more beers for him.

  Glimpsing movement from the corner of his eye—three figures under the glare of the parking lot lights—Brock stopped, and everything else went into automatic assessment. Some habits never went away, and the ones from his days as a SEAL were deeply ingrained.

  Two guys, one woman—and yeah, he wasn’t being paid by Slade for this one, but he also wasn’t wired to look away. He headed over, took up a spot that gave him the advantage, since it put him right behind the guy holding the knife, and boxed the trio against a battered pickup. He offered a friendly grin. “Looks like a party.”

  The two guys—good ol' boys by the looks of the wife-beater shirts and sagging jeans, and none too smart to go by the eyes glazed by drink and drugs—glanced at each other. The guy without a knife nodded at the half-empty parking lot. “Get lost.”

  Brock shrugged to loosen his shoulders. “Let the girl go and I won’t have to mess up this crappy spot with your even crappier blood. I’m only asking once.”

  The girl had guts enough. She kept hold of one guy’s wrist—the guy with the knife—but she glanced at Mr. Mouthy and said, her voice low and firm, “Please, I changed my mind, Toad.”

  “Toad?” Brock laughed. “Seriously, dude? That’s your handle? Okay, we’re done here.” He brought his hand down on the shoulder of the guy with the knife—hard enough for the guy to let out a grunt.

  Brock spun him around, punched him once in his soft gut. Not smart, dude, to let yourself go like that. The guy doubled over, spilling out whiskey-soaked breath. Brock snapped the knife from the guy’s limp hand. It clattered to the asphalt. A jerk back and the guy lay flat on the ground, on his back. Brock kicked the knife away and glanced at Toad—Mr. Mouthy. “You want a go? Your choice.”

  Before Toad could even bunch a fist, the girl hauled off, caught him in the throat with the flat of her hand, and drove a knee into his groin. The guy doubled over, and Brock gave a sympathetic wince. She kicked up at his jaw with a boot, and Toad crumpled like a wad of toilet paper.

  Leaving the two guys on the ground, Brock grabbed the girl’s wrist. “Come on. Let’s go before these two even think about trying a round two, or call for their buddies to come kick our asses.”

  He pulled her with him, sizing her up as he went. She had long, straight hair, hitting below her shoulders; looked brown, maybe dark brown in this light. He couldn’t judge the color of her eyes, but they were big, dominating a narrow face. Pretty, he’d guess. A little too skinny. A baggy shirt hung down over her hips, hiding anything she might have for breasts, too, but she had great legs—long and lean and encased in tight jeans. Plus boots made for kicking.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  She nodded and let go of his hand to go around and get into his convertible. He lifted an eyebrow at that—maybe this kind of gutsiness had gotten her in trouble to start with. She didn’t seem to mind jumping into a stranger’s car, but then he wouldn’t want to hang around either to see how Toad liked being kicked in the nuts.

  He started up his car and headed for the highway. “Where do you live?” He asked, leaning over so she could hear him over the wind, which was a soft roar in his ears and a pressure on his cheeks.

  She shook her head, captured her flying hair with a hand, and slanted him a look. “No one’s ever done that before. No one’s ever helped me out.”

  Brock grinned. “It’s kind of what I do.” He pulled out a card and slipped it to her. It had his name on it and the words, Slade Security. She ran her fingers over the card, and Brock’s throat tightened. She had great hands—long fingers, tapering, slim, and strong wrists. He liked the way she moved them, too, slow and certain. They reminded him, somehow, of white butterflies.

  She looked at him again. “What kind of security?”