“How did you find me?” she blurted.

  A slow smile spread over Samir’s face. “I called in a few favors. Luckily, we have a few acquaintances in common.”

  “Howard? You didn’t.”

  “It’s not as bad as that,” Samir said with a laugh. “He’d slipped me Heather’s number on one of his business cards. She was more than happy to let me know that you were back in New York and perfectly safe.”

  Clem frowned, feeling her lips tremble. “I can’t believe she’s handing out my address to every sheikh she meets.”

  “I gave her a good reason.” He stuck his hands in his pockets, and she could see him standing in the doorway of her suite at the palace. “Or…a good enough reason, I hope.”

  “Yeah?” Clementine didn’t think her heart had ever beat so fast or hard. Heat rose into her cheeks, a mad blush of excitement. “What’s that?”

  Samir’s eyes lingered on hers for another wild heartbeat, and then he sank down onto one knee.

  The air around Clementine thinned. This must be what it felt like to fly. To soar. Even if it did happen to be in the hallway of her apartment building.

  “Clementine.” The smooth rumble of his voice struck something inside of her, and the sound vibrated through every inch of muscle and skin. He put one hand to his pocket and drew out a small velvet box, which he held in the palm of one hand as if it were a small bird. “I’ve missed you every day since you left the oasis.”

  “I’ve missed you too,” she whispered. “Even though I was the one who left.”

  Samir looked up at her, his eyes dark and shining with emotion. “I wish you hadn’t gone,” he said. “But I take responsibility for that. I couldn’t admit to myself how I felt about you—about us together—until it was too late. Thankfully Rashid showed me the error of my ways. And I would’ve gotten on a plane that day, Clementine, but I didn’t want you to feel like you—” He shook his head. “I didn’t want you to feel like you had to come back to me. So I waited until you could freely choose—our three months are up. Forgive me for not being honest—with you or myself.”

  “I feel like I should make you grovel somehow, but you’re already kneeling in the hall of a Brooklyn apartment building, so I think we’ll call it even,” Clementine said, her voice trembling.

  Samir laughed. “The truth is that I love you. I love you for everything you are.”

  “Even though I screwed up all those flowers?”

  “Even though you were quite devastating to the saffron crop, yes.” Samir said it with a flash of amusement in his eyes. “I’ve never known anyone who could have such an effect on a greenhouse. Other than you, of course.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “And you should.”

  “But…” Clementine’s heartbeat pulsed in her ears. “I think we’re focused on the least important part of what you said. I want to focus on the most important part.”

  “Which part was that?”

  “I love you.”

  “I do,” said Samir simply. “I do love you, and I want you to come home with me. I want you to stay in Omirabad, by my side, as my wife, and I want us to be together for as much of the future as we’re allowed.”

  She sighed, sweet relief in every breath…tempered by a sudden anxiousness. “Samir…”

  “I’ll accept whatever answer you give,” he said.

  “It’s—it’s not that. I want to be with you. Yes. Please, yes. But I—” She reached down and tugged on his hand until he stood up. There was no way she could deliver this news with him on the floor like that. “I’m pregnant.”

  Shock sped across Samir’s face, and then he brightened like she’d never seen before. “With my child,” he said, voice soaring with awe. “Our child.”

  “Yes,” she breathed. “And I should have told you the moment I found out. I should never have left Omirabad, but I thought—”

  He swept her into his arms and kissed her, as deeply and fully as he ever had, until she was breathless with delight. Clementine hooked her arms around his neck and held on even after he pulled back, looking into her eyes. “I’m so happy. I’ve never been so happy.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’ve never been so sure.”

  Samir set her gently back on her feet. He opened the velvet box and there sparkled a saffron diamond engagement ring. “I want you to come home with me, and I want to have a real wedding ceremony with you. In front of everyone who loves us. A ceremony that we can remember. Because I want to remember it forever, Clementine. Forever.”

  “I love you so much,” she said with a laugh, and let him slip the ring onto her finger. “I’m—I’m so excited, I can’t—” She held the ring up to the light. It was perfect. Better by far than the one she’d left behind in Omirabad. This time, he’d chosen it for her in complete clarity. Oh, it was so good. “But Samir, there’s somewhere I need to be.”

  “On my plane, headed home.”

  “No.” She put a hand to his chest and hooked her fingers into the placket of his shirt. “I have my first prenatal appointment today. They’re going to do an ultrasound, and—” Her eyes filled with happy tears. “We’ll get to see the baby. Please tell me you’ll come with me.”

  “I wouldn’t miss it. In the meantime, let my people pack your things. We can be in the air by the afternoon…”

  “How about tomorrow morning?” Clementine said. “I’d like to lie in bed with you and look at the photos before our next round of international travel.”

  “I’ll consider it,” Samir said, wearing an impish smile, “if we can also spend some time looking at each other.”

  Clementine pretended she had to think about it. “If you’re not going to be wearing a shirt, then I don’t think I can—”

  He kissed her again until she was laughing, joy overtaking her, and then she took his hand in hers. “We’re going to be late,” she said. “Come with me, husband, and let’s see our new life!”

  Epilogue

  Samir had had no idea what to expect at Clementine’s appointment that day in Brooklyn. All his worries and speculation had faded away the moment the doctor pressed the ultrasound wand to her belly and their child came into view.

  It looked so small, there on the black-and-white screen, but Samir could already see what would become its hands and its feet and its head. Clementine sniffed beside him and reached for his hand. He wasn’t surprised to see tears running down her cheeks. He was more surprised to find them on his own cheeks—and he only knew it because she let go of his hand to brush them away.

  Every day since then had been a whirlwind of adjustment. Clementine had moved into his master bedroom with him, and he’d made some changes to the amount of time he’d spend with the tribe for the time being. The preparations for their real wedding began as soon as Samir and Clementine arrived at the palace.

  He felt fiercely protective of her now, another level above how he’d felt the first time she was in Omirabad. It was an altogether different experience knowing that she was pregnant with his child, and he reveled in it. Samir had always thought of fatherhood in a vague sense—something that would probably happen for him one day, but the details were hazy. He’d never once considered how he might feel about the mother of his child while she went through the process of creating that new life.

  How had he ever been able to send her back to the palace without him? Even once? Now Samir couldn’t bear the thought. He kept his trips short and stuck to out-and-backs while they planned the wedding. Clementine loved every moment of it, including calling Heather to invite her to the ceremony.

  Now, Heather and Clementine waited together in a different tent. Samir hadn’t seen his wife—and soon-to-be-wife—yet this morning.

  The ceremony was held out at the oasis.

  His father stepped into the tent where he was giving himself a once-over in the mirror. Samir wore a traditional desert robe, all in white, with touches meant to signify his royalty. It felt exactly right.

  “It’s time, son,” Rafiq said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Are you ready?”

  “I’ve been ready since the day I landed in New York,” Samir said. “I can’t wait to see her.”

  Rafiq’s eyes twinkled. “I remember that feeling.” He clapped Samir on the back. “Let’s go.”

  His father accompanied him through the waiting crowd, standing in their best and brightest clothes, all the way to the canopy that would shelter them from the sun as they said their vows. The palace imam waited for him, and the moments rushed by. Traditional music drifted over the crowd, and Samir lifted his head. Heather was almost down the aisle, beaming at him. She took her spot off to one side. Samir’s brothers moved into place opposite her, and then…

  Then Clementine appeared at the end of the aisle.

  She walked by herself, her head held high, and he had never seen a more stunning sight in all his life.

  The dress she wore was lace, a hybrid of a traditional robe and an American wedding dress, and it fit her like it was made for her. Of course, it had been. The women of the village had worked with the palace seamstress to create it. Her belly held the slightest curve beneath the fabric and her hands were full of flowers.

  The rest of the people at the ceremony faded away, along with the music and the sunshine and his nerves. Samir only heard his own heartbeat, and he only saw his bride coming toward him. Then she was there, taking his hand, handing off her bouquet, and turning to face him as they said a set of ancient vows, followed by the modern ones Clementine had wanted.

  The imam invited him to kiss his bride, and he did, dipping her backward.

  Cheers exploded around them, pulling him back to the present moment, and when he broke away from Clementine, it was to see the celebration already beginning. It was time to feast and make merry and dance, and he offered her his hand. “Let’s open the dancing,” he said.

  He led her to the center of the crowd.

  “I have a wedding gift for you,” Clementine said over the happy din.

  “Being here is all the wedding gift I need,” Samir answered, putting his hands on her hips and pulling her close.

  “Well, it’s not enough for me,” she said, laughing. “I got you a contract with the company I’ve been working with. It’s an incredible deal for you both, and they’ll open new distribution lines to the United States to secure your business. All aboveboard. All environmentally friendly. Europe and the United States are about to meet the Omirabad crocus, and they won’t be able to get enough.”

  Samir didn’t know what to say.

  “All you have to do is sign,” said Clementine. “We could go right now, if you—”

  He kissed her again, mindful of his family watching, and put a finger to her lips. “Tell me all about it while we dance. But if you think for a single moment that I’m going to pause our wedding night to sign a business contract, you’re not the Clementine I married.”

  “I love you,” she said.

  “I love you. Both of you,” Samir answered.

  The future of the tribe was secure. The future of the crocuses was secure. And his bride danced happily in his arms.

  Samir had never been happier.

  End of The Shiekh’s Accidental Wife

  The Sheikh’s Convenient Bride, November 7 2019

  The Sheikh’s Accidental Wife, November 14 2019

  The Sheikh’s Unexpected Fiancée, November 21 2019

  Do you love hot-blooded Sheikhs? Then keep reading for exclusive extracts from The Sheikh’s Unexpected Fiancée and The Sheikh’s Surprise Heir.

  Thank You!

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  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.

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  BLURB

  When her half-sister flees with her true love to avoid an arranged marriage, Zainab Halil bravely steps up to take her place. All her life, Zainab has sought the approval of her father, Javeed, but even she is shocked when he refuses to consider his oldest daughter—her—for an alliance that will finally bring peace between his tribe and the royal family of Omirabad. Javeed has always been a bit embarrassed by Zainab, who was the result of a fling with an American girl he met one summer. With her mother dead, Zainab now lives with her father, doing everything she can to win his approval—even if that means marrying a man she’s never met. Though she’s willing to wed for the sake of the tribe, she secretly doesn’t believe it’s much of a sacrifice, given that the one she would be marrying, Khalid bin Salam, is one of the most handsome and charming men she’s ever met.

  At first, Khalid is resistant to the idea of an arranged marriage. And then he meets Zainab, and the idea of marrying a stranger is a bit more appealing. He likes her American ways, her lovely smile, her beautiful curves. But Javeed is determined to keep them apart, pulling every string he can reach to ensure each day passes without them seeing each other. That still leaves the nights… And as their passion builds, their marriage seems less arranged and more like destiny. If only Javeed could see what’s best for his tribe and his daughter.

  Grab your copy of The Sheikh’s Unexpected Fiancée

  Available November 21, 2019

  www.LeslieNorthBooks.com

  EXCERPT

  The palace was busier than usual.

  Khalid came and went quite often in his self-chosen role of Omirabad’s science and technology liaison, but he was still attuned to the sounds and rhythms of the palace. Today, they were different.

  “Is it me, or is there a special event happening today?”

  His attaché, Zyan, took a tablet from underneath his arm and swiped across the screen. “It looks as though King Rashid is hosting a meeting.”

  “That would explain it.”

  Khalid stretched his arms over his head. They’d been flying for the better part of the morning, and before that he’d been in Germany for nearly a month. The trip had gone well. He’d built several new relationships with charismatic people from tech and environmental companies while he was there and had laid the groundwork for a cultural exchange later in the year. Unlike his brother Rashid, who was the king, and his brother Samir, who was official liaison to the desert tribes, Khalid didn’t have any traditional responsibilities, so he’d shaped them to his interests. It was a job well done.

  Meeting or not, he couldn’t very well walk right past the sitting room Rashid used for meetings without greeting his brothers. He was exhilarated by the success in Germany, but it had been a long month, and he was glad to be back.

  “Who’s on the roster?” he asked Zyan.

  Zyan frowned at the screen. “The scheduling program isn’t updating, so I—”

  “It’s no trouble. We’re there.”

  Khalid stepped through the doors of the sitting room and took in the group of people occupying the formal furniture. His brother Rashid sat at the head of a wide coffee table, back straight in his chair. A man he recognized as Javeed Halil, head of one of the tribes, sat to Rashid’s right. Samir sat on a loveseat across from Javeed, one arm draped over the back in a gesture that looked causal. Khalid knew better. Samir was calculating, when it came to business. He only relaxed behind closed doors with his family or out in the desert.

  None of the men noticed him when he entered the room, which was good…because something else entirely caught Khalid’s attention.

  The distinct rhythms of English made his head turn. Two women stood near the door, wearing brightly colored dresses that struck a balance between the tribe’s traditional clothes and city fashion.

  The woman in red leaned closer to the woman in blue.

  “I don’t know what they’ll do,” she said, and Khalid found himself less concerned with what she was saying than the American accent she said it in.

  Yet she was clearly there with the members of the tribe.

  Fascinating.

  The woman in red flicked her gaze to his, and his heart skipped a beat. She was stunning. Dark hair, clear blue eyes…was his mouth open? He pressed his lips together in case his jaw was on the floor. A little grin played over her lips, and she looked back at the younger woman in blue and raised her eyebrows.

  The other woman was gorgeous, too…but something about the mysterious woman with the American accent had hooked something behind his breastbone. His heart beat faster. He half turned, ready to go over to her.

  “You made it!” Rashid was always right on time. “You’re back.” His brother came toward him, grinning, and pulled him in for an embrace. “I didn’t know your plane had landed. How was the flight?”

  “Good, good.” Khalid’s other brother, Samir, came up to the two of them, and he and Khalid exchanged pats on the back. “How are the both of you? Nora and Clementine?”

  “Well,” answered Samir. He had a new baby, only a couple months old, with his wife Clementine, and as a result he was constantly wearing a bit of a smile. It made him look like he was keeping a secret, but Khalid hadn’t told him that. “Come, Khalid. Sit down with us. Your timing is perfect.”