Khalid laughed. “Isn’t it always?”

  “It really is,” answered Rashid.

  Wait. What was going on here? His brothers were acting like Khalid’s presence at the meeting was necessary in some way, but nobody had added it to his schedule. If they had, he wouldn’t have come back from Germany so late in the day. Now that he thought of it, an energy did hum in the room. He’d chalked it up to the absolutely gorgeous women standing near the door, but maybe that wasn’t it.

  Javeed Halil was on his feet when they got back to the coffee table, and Khalid clasped arms with the man. They had met several times, though the brothers saw Chief Jazir, of another branch of the tribes, far more often.

  Chief Halil’s father had, during his tenure as chief, separated the tribe from the royal family as a result of a policy disagreement. King Rafiq, Khalid’s father, had abolished the requirement that princes be married by their thirtieth birthday in order to retain their official positions. The old tradition had been written into the laws of Omirabad, and Rafiq wanted a change. And that was all for the love of his brother, Sherrod. Sherrod had been engaged to a woman he was deeply in love with, but she died before the wedding could take place. He never wanted to marry again, and Rafiq wouldn’t force him.

  One of the desert tribes, led by Javeed’s father, had disagreed. They believed in the marriage requirement as a symbol of the bond between the royal family and the tribes. So, while they still accepted the royal family’s leadership on a national scale, they governed themselves on local matters and held closely to tradition.

  Which made it a thousand times more intriguing that one of them seemed to be…an American.

  Khalid took a seat next to Samir, and the four men settled in. What was this about? Khalid was intensely curious. When his father was king, he’d never forced Chief Halil’s father into any further closeness. He hadn’t wanted a war between the tribes and the royal family, and the elder Halil had taken their traditions just that seriously. It had been three decades, give or take, and they’d managed to coexist peacefully. But a strange tension had pulled tight between the two men. It probably had to do with the fact that life was easier for the tribes if they had a good relationship with the royal family. After thirty years of icy relations, it wasn’t like Chief Halil could pretend the rift hadn’t happened.

  “Khalid.” Rashid leaned back, balancing one elbow on the arm of his chair. “We’ve been discussing a matter of importance to both the members of the tribe and the members of the royal family. It’s…auspicious that you’re able to be a part of our conversation.”

  “If part of that conversation has to do with sharing technologies between us, then I’d absolutely agree,” said Khalid. “I’ve been in Germany, Chief Halil, forming partnerships with a number of prestigious companies. Both of our countries should benefit.” He said this to Halil, but he wanted Rashid to hear it, too. One strange meeting at the end of a long trip couldn’t tarnish his glow of pride.

  “That’s wonderful to hear,” said Rashid, glancing at Chief Halil, “but our talks have been about a different matter. One that will also benefit all of us here in Omirabad.”

  “We came to propose a reconciliation.” Chief Halil fixed his dark eyes on Khalid’s face, lifting his chin a fraction of an inch. “It’s been many years now since we went our separate ways, as much as is possible in Omirabad.” He leaned forward, pursing his lips. “As you know, my father wished for…a stronger commitment to the traditions the royal family kept alive for so long. I agree with him, but I also think there’s room for a solution.”

  If it was about the symbolic bond between the two groups, Khalid could think of a hundred ways to approach it and incorporate an exchange of knowledge and ideas and technology. His mind raced ahead with all of them, blocking out what Chief Halil said next.

  They were looking at him.

  “I’m sorry,” Khalid said, smiling at Chief Halil. “I was imagining several mutually beneficial possibilities. I beg your pardon.”

  “You have it,” Chief Halil said with a nod. “We’ve come with a solution in mind. A marriage between a member of the chief’s family and the royal family.”

  “Interesting,” said Khalid, and then his mind caught up with exactly what that meant.

  Rashid and Samir were already married. His sister, Aliyah, was already married. There was only one member of the royal family available for this kind of marriage—him.

  No. He wouldn’t have it. Khalid had plans, and none of them involved being forced into an arranged marriage for the sake of an ancient treaty. Hadn’t all those traditions put them in this position in the first place? He had never once expressed a desire to be married, and he had especially not told his brothers that his dream was to marry a random woman from the tribes as part of a political alliance.

  He took a deep breath, keeping a neutral expression on his face. At least he hoped it was neutral. Still, this was an absurd proposal. His older brothers had more important positions in the royal hierarchy and with the tribes, but they’d been able to choose their own wives. How could it possibly be that Khalid was the one who was going to end up in an arranged marriage? It was so archaic. He’d come back from the cutting-edge of technology in Germany and found himself centuries back in time.

  “It would be up to you, Khalid,” Samir said into the silence. “We wanted to hear your thoughts on the matter before we entertained the possibility any further.”

  “It would be entirely your decision.” Rashid looked Khalid in the eyes as he said it. “You have our word on that. However…”

  “No, go on.” Khalid waved a hand in the air. “I’d like to hear your proposal in full, so I can consider it.” His heart pounded. There was no way he’d agree to this. Not a chance. But this was a diplomatic meeting, and even if Khalid wasn’t king, he’d still had to play the part of a dutiful member of the royal family.

  “The benefits would be substantial.” Rashid leaned a little closer. “It would unify the country.” Out of the corner of his eye, Khalid caught Chief Halil nodding along. “It would provide stability and safety for all our people. It would also put the country in a better position for the cultural exchanges you’ve been working on.”

  Khalid couldn’t argue with that. With more access to tribal lands, they could offer more research opportunities, and he’d been thinking seriously about how to bring new technological advancements to the tribes as well as the cities. There were lots of things that could be improved. Agriculture. Access to medical care. He’d had a long list of ideas until his brain had shut down under the suggestion of an arranged marriage. It was also true that Chief Halil’s tribe had been an obstacle to getting the most out of the cultural exchanges, since the royal family couldn’t outright ask for access without negotiating some kind of alliance.

  Like this one.

  “Chief Halil?” Khalid turned his attention to the man sitting across the table in a traditional tribal robe trimmed in a deep purple. “Any other considerations to add?”

  “It would be a bridge between our people that would put the wounds of the past firmly behind us.”

  “Meet the delegation before you decide, Khalid,” suggested Rashid. “It will be good for us all to get more aquatinted with each other for the summit.”

  “The summit?”

  “We’ve come for several days to give all the interested parties ample time to weigh the options,” said Chief Halil.

  “Give me a moment.” Khalid stood up from the sofa. He needed time to arrange his thoughts before they moved on to introductions.

  Rashid nodded in his direction, then turned back to the chief. “If our alliance was newly solidified…” His tone was thoughtful.

  Khalid didn’t hear another word.

  Grab your copy of The Sheikh’s Unexpected Fiancée

  Available November 21, 2019

  www.LeslieNorthBooks.com

  BLURB

  What happens in Vegas…apparently can follow you forever. At least that’s Clementine Llewellyn’s experience who, after a night of drinking and partying, ends up married to a sheikh, of all people. A night of passionate romance? Sure. Marriage? Not so much. Clementine wants an immediate divorce, but Samir bin Salam’s tiny country’s divorce laws require them to stay married. For three months. Samir may be the hottest guy she’s ever seen—never mind spent time under the sheets with—but still. He’s a sheikh and she’s a nobody. But as the two of them spend more time together it doesn’t take long before Clem’s feelings for Samir go from lust to love. However, she’s sure Samir doesn’t feel the same. Best to cut her losses when she can.

  Samir isn’t looking for a wife, but when he wakes up with one, he’s willing to do what’s needed until the two can go their separate ways. He may not have a single thing in common with his quirky, flighty, sexy new wife, but all that is quickly forgotten when they’re in bed. That side of their marriage is perfection. In fact, most of the time he spends with her—the talks, the laughter, the way she completely embraces his people—is bliss. Even so, it’s shocking when he realizes he’s in love with her, a revelation that Samir may have made too late. Because by the time he knows he can’t live without her, she’s already gone…

  The odds may be against them, but all bets are off when Clem and Samir take a gamble on love.

  Grab your copy of The Sheikh’s Surprise Heir (The Karawi Shikhs Book One) from

  www.LeslieNorthBooks.com

  EXCERPT

  Six Years Earlier

  I need the money. I need the money. I need the money. Natalie chanted the phrase over and over in her head as she readied a pot of water to brew more coffee. It was supposed to be her week off, but her friend Erin had begged Natalie to take the unplanned flight so she could go to some pop icon concert. As much as Natalie had wanted to spend the week with her mom at the hospital, she needed the money to help cover the medical bills.

  Although, to be honest, working Prince Iman Karawi’s private flight barely made a dent in the medical bills, and the man was as unpleasant as they come. Natalie had only been working with Kaylana Private Flights for a few months now, and the money was better, but the rich clientele left a lot to be desired.

  The plane hit a small patch of turbulence, and Natalie widened her stance and reached for the counter. She’d been a flight attendant for five years now, and a little bouncing didn’t bother her. When the coffee finally started to brew, she sighed in relief and grabbed the coffee cups. His-Highness had complained about the first two cups of coffee she’d served him. He didn’t like the flavor. He thought it was too weak.

  If he didn’t like this one, she was going to accidentally slip and pour it in his lap.

  The phone on the wall rang. “Yes?” she asked as she picked it up.

  “We’re approaching Egypt,” Zane Maroun, the senior pilot, informed her. “We should be reaching the Haamas kingdom in a little over two hours. The spots of turbulence will probably continue. Everything okay back there?”

  “I think so. Just trying to make His Highness’s cup of coffee to his liking,” Natalie said through gritted teeth.

  The pilot chuckled. “Keep things civil.”

  “I’ll try.” Hanging up, she poured out the requisite number of cups and placed them on the beverage cart. The prince was traveling with his ambassador and three security agents.

  “It’s about time,” one of the bodyguards snapped as she entered the cabin. “The Prince is waiting.”

  “I’m so sorry,” she said sweetly. “I didn’t realize the Prince was in such a hurry for his coffee since he rejected the first two cups I offered him. I have some instant in the back that I can use next time.”

  That earned her a hard look, but the man didn’t say anything else as he took his cup.

  It was obvious that her statement hadn’t gone unnoticed. The prince fixed his gorgeous dark eyes on her, and despite her misgivings about him, she couldn’t help but melt a little. She hated to think that his sinfully good looks were getting to her, but her heart skipped a beat every time he looked at her.

  If he’d only keep his mouth shut, he’d be a little more perfect.

  He never said anything directly to her, preferring to deliver his scathing criticism through one of his bodyguards. She didn’t know what was more infuriating: the fact that he was such an ass or the fact that he didn’t think she was worthy of hearing his ridiculous demands first-hand.

  He didn’t even accept the cup of coffee from her hand. She had to put it down on the small table by the large leather seat. As he slid his eyes over her body, letting them linger in certain inappropriate places, she narrowed her own eyes and glared.

  A ghost of a smile played on his lips, making her flush as she turned away. Damn it. She was acting like a fifteen-year-old teenager who still fell for sexy bad boys. After finishing the coffee service, she headed back to her station.

  “Much better,” she heard the prince say suddenly. His voice dripped with disdain.

  Her back stiffened; she froze and closed her eyes in annoyance as she told herself between clenched teeth to keep going.

  She lost the internal battle and turned around. Dropping into a small curtsy, she gave him her biggest, fakest smile. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

  The ambassador’s eyes rounded and nearly bugged out of the older man’s head, but Natalie didn’t care. She wasn’t about to become a doormat. She turned away again and headed to the tiny galley.

  As she pulled the curtain shut behind her, she sighed and emptied the coffee filter. This flight from Chicago to some kingdom in the Middle East that she’d never even heard of was turning out to be the longest in her life.

  She’d been on some doozy flights before. Grabby passengers. Incessantly crying babies. Horribly sick service dogs. Co-workers who thought they were above cleaning the bathrooms in-flight. Honestly, the job really sucked sometimes.

  She’d thought the private flights would be better, and in some respects, they were. At least there were fewer people to care for.

  On the plus side, she got to travel. She’d have two whole days in Haamas to explore and see the sights before the plane was fueled and readied for the flight back. So far in her career, she’d drooled over the amazing architecture in Russia. Visited beautiful castles in Germany, Ireland, and Scotland. Tasted delicious Asian cuisine and traversed ancient temples and serene gardens. Viewed stunning artwork at the Louvre and swam in the Aegean off the coast of Greece. Collecting memories was her escape from reality and one that she’d never be able to afford without this job.

  It was well worth the indignities that she suffered. Most of the time.

  Two hours until touchdown. No more meals to serve. Coffee, maybe. Her feet ached, and she was exhausted. She hadn’t been able to close her eyes for more than an hour during the thirteen-hour flight. The last-minute change had afforded her only a few hours of shut-eye before the trip, and she was reaching the end of her rope. If she didn’t get off this plane soon, her snarkiness was going to turn into something that got her fired.

  Sitting heavily on the stool in the small break space, she rubbed her feet. Her relief was short-lived as one of the guards yanked the curtain open. “The Prince requires you to change the air coming out of the vents. He’s cold.”

  “The controls are right above him,” she said as she stood. “He can adjust them as much as he likes.”

  The guard simply stared at her, and she sighed, pulled her high-heeled shoe back into place, and stood up from the stool. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

  After giving her hands a quick wash, she took a deep breath to settle her nerves as she headed back out. “Prince Iman,” she said cordially when she reached him. “Would you like me to turn the air off, or simply turn it down?”

  Again, he stared at her with that strange smile on his sensual lips.

  “Right. Well, I’ll turn it down for you.” Leaning over his chair, she turned the knob all the way to the right. “If you want to turn it back on again, turn this knob to the left.” Looking down to make sure that he understood, she realized that she was right between his legs.

  There was something hungry in his gaze.

  Sudden unreasoning panic hit her. Eyes wide, she pushed away and took a step back. The men around her chuckled, and she shook her head.

  That was it. She’d had enough. She wasn’t their entertainment. As she opened her mouth to tell them off, a loud explosion interrupted her, and the whole plane veered to the left.

  With a gasp, she lost her balance and fell right into the royal lap.

  “What is that?” one of the guards demanded as he slid in his seat toward the window to look out. “What is that?” he repeated, his body tense as he stared outside.

  “Please remain calm,” she said in her best professional voice as she hastily scrambled off the prince’s lap. Avoiding eye contact with any of them, she looked out the window and saw in horror that flames were dancing on the wing of the plane.

  At least the plane didn’t drop like a rock, but its flight remained unsteady, jouncing and dipping as she struggled to get to the cockpit door. Picking up the phone, she punched the button to reach the flight crew. “What’s going on?”

  “We’ve lost control of the stabilizer,” Zane’s voice crackled grimly in her ear. “Get everyone ready for a crash landing.”

  Trembling, she switched the phone to “cabin” and said in the flat “recorded” voice she’d learned to put on, “Please remain calm. We are experiencing a mechanical failure, and we’re going in for an emergency landing.” She replaced the phone in the cradle and headed back to her seat. A sudden drop had her gripping the back of the seats as her jaw slammed painfully shut. Taking a deep breath, she blew it out and raised her voice to be heard above the tumult. “Please make sure your seat backs and tray tables are in their full upright position, and make sure your seat belt is buckled. Please remain calm until the pilot provides further instructions.” She winced mentally. The speech had been automatic, drilled into her for potential emergencies in the commercial flights she’d commonly served. This plane didn’t have tray tables.