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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

  Never mix duty and pleasure…

  Sheikh Ilyas Murad loves women, perhaps a little too much. But he’s only truly been in love with one: Tatiana Templeton. So when he bumps into her unexpectedly at a party, the two are swept up in the moment and spend a night of unbridled passion together.

  But two months later, Ilyas is shocked when his mother arrives at his door with an American dating coach in tow… Who just happens to be Tatiana! His mother hired her to help him settle down with the right woman. But Ilyas considers himself a dating expert. The last thing he needs is a woman he once loved helping him find a wife.

  Tatiana is between a rock and a hard place. Ilyas clearly wants her gone, forcing her to reveal another surprise. Their one-night stand left her pregnant. But she’s determined to do her job. She’ll find Ilyas a wife, and they can deal with all the baby stuff later…

  But when the prince suggests Tatiana as his bride, the beautiful American is torn. Is his proposal coming from the heart? Or his sense of royal duty…

  Grab your copy of

  Sheikh’s One-Night Stand

  Available January 6, 2022

  Available for pre-order now! www.LeslieNorthBooks.com

  EXCERPT

  Chapter One

  Tatiana sipped her champagne, her first taste of the evening. The sweetness and bubbles went straight to her head. Just the taste was intoxicating, the heady tang of victory. Below her, the floor had cleared for Prince Stefan and his bride, their first dance as an engaged couple, and—

  “This was you, yes?”

  “Ah, Count d’Allaire.” Tatiana turned smoothly and dropped into a curtsy. “I can hardly take all the credit.”

  “That’s not what I heard.” The count drifted past her and leaned on the rail. “I heard he was hopeless. Clueless as a babe.”

  “I wouldn’t say that.” Tatiana had thought it, but she had more sense than to say so. “He found his princess himself. I just polished him up for her, and he did the rest.” She moved closer, her smile turning playful. “Why? Could the count use some polishing? Could he be in search of his countess?”

  D’Allaire chuckled darkly. “And if I were?” He turned to face her, and Tatiana saw he was flushed, his cheeks red with drink, his pale eyes unfocused. “If I thought I might have found her, at least for tonight? What might I say to tempt her into my web?”

  “Certainly not that.” Tatiana backed off, laughing. “Ladies hate spiders, and we loathe feeling disposable. Countess for the night? If that line were an Uber driver, I’d rate it a two.”

  “Oh, I’ve offended you.” The count held out his arm. “Come. Just one dance.”

  “I’m afraid this one’s promised. But here, when you’re ready—” She pressed her card into his hand. “Call me. We’ll talk.”

  D’Allaire squinted at it. “Tatiana Templeton – Dating coach – Discreet. Wait. Wait, I—”

  “Good evening, Count.” She waved over her shoulder, already beating her retreat. With the drink flowing freely, the time for networking had passed. The guests, at least the single ones, had narrowed their focus to finding love for the night. She dealt in lasting love—though in the whirl of the ballroom, with the taste of champagne like honey on her lips, she could see the appeal of something more transient. A stolen kiss. A stolen night.

  “No loitering on the dance floor.” A strong arm caught her about the waist. Tatiana had time to register a shock of dark hair, a crisp shirt loosened to hint at a well-defined chest, and then she was spinning, stifling a yelp.

  “Oh! I didn’t see you!”

  “Too late. You’ve been swept up. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Her new partner dipped her, and the blood rushed to her head. She heard herself giggling as he set her on her feet. Stars danced in her eyes, and she blinked them away.

  “Ordinarily, I’d swat you for manhandling me so rudely. But I must say, you—you’re…” The breath caught in her throat. She’d know those eyes anywhere, one blue and one hazel. Those lips, as well, too tempting by far. Even his hair was the same, that one stupid cowlick sticking up at the front. She pulled away, breathless. “Ilyas. Or should I say, Sheikh Ilyas Murad?”

  “My Tatiana.” He reeled her back in, his stubble grazing her cheek. “I could never resist you. See, nothing’s changed.”

  My Tatiana. She came alive at those words, just as she always had. He made them so feral, all growly and low. They woke something in her, a raw, primal lust—and beneath that, a yearning she’d never outgrown. Anger rose in its wake, and she pulled away. She’d been his long ago, and she’d thought he was hers, but he’d run off and left her in her hour of need. He’d left her behind, without a word of farewell. Even fourteen years later, that hurt hadn’t healed.

  “I think you’ll find a lot has changed,” she said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me—”

  “I’d rather not.” Ilyas loosed his hold on her, but he didn’t step back. “I won’t force you or embarrass you. But I would like to dance with you, if you’d do me the honor.”

  “There’s that silver tongue.” Tatiana smiled up at him, wry and half mocking. “All right. Let’s dance. But if I don’t trip you, don’t think you’re forgiven.”

  “Of course not.” Ilyas tipped her a wink, and she shivered anew, sharp little thrills crackling all down her spine. He’d been hot back in high school, but in his thirties, he’d graduated to devastating, his elegant features chiseled with time. The music swelled, and he spun her. She leaned back in his arms as he dipped her low. Twinkling lights spun above her, brilliant as stars.

  “You’re smiling,” Ilyas said.

  “Yeah? Because—” She bit her lip on a smart remark. In truth, this was fun. Ilyas was fun, always had been. She’d loved that about him, and so what if their love hadn’t been one for the ages? They’d made some great memories, and tonight could be another. A sweet little coda to their long-ago love song. “This is nice. Nostalgic. Remember our spring dance, back in high school?”

  “You lost your corsage.”

  “You made me a new one with daisies from the lawn.”

  “I did, didn’t I?” Ilyas dipped her again, and she thought he might kiss her. His lips brushed so close she felt his breath on her cheek. She swayed, feeling faint, and he caught her in his arms.

  “Swooning already?”

  “Malnourished, more like. I missed out on dinner.”

  “Let’s find you dessert, then.” Ilyas guided her off the dance floor. “I saw strawberry tarts somewhere. You still love those, don’t you?”

  “I prefer raspberries now. They’ve got that bitter edge.”

  “Well—”

  “Tatiana, there you are. And Sheikh Ilyas.” Prince Stefan intercepted them and grasped Ilyas by the hands. “I was afraid you wouldn’t make it. I’m so glad you came.”

  “New Year’s in New York? How could I refuse?” Ilyas bowed to Stefan’s bride. “You must be Sanna.”

  “Delighted to meet you.” Sanna curtsied deep, and when she rose, she was beaming. “I’ve heard so much about you I’m not sure what to believe.”

  Ilyas shot Stefan a black look. “What have you been telling her?”

  “A few tall tales from college, those nights at the Drake.” The prince chuckled lightly and turned his attention to Tatiana. “But you two know each other? I had no idea.”

  “Oh, yes. We’re well acquainted.” Ilyas moved closer, as though to lay claim to her. “In fact, we’re old—”

  “Friends.” Tatiana trod on his foot, just hard enough he’d feel it. “We were close back in high school. In another life.”

  “Still, my old friend and my dating coach—this is a small world.” Stefan seemed about to say something else, but Ilyas cut in smoothly, slipping his arm around Tatiana.

  “We were just looking for food. Tatiana hasn’t eaten. Did you happen to see what they did with those trays of tarts?”

  “I’m sure the kitchen still has some.” Stefan gestured across the ballroom. “Go out the grand archway and take the door marked STAFF ONLY. You’ll find it on your right.”

  Ilyas took her hand and they made their escape, spinning and ducking to avoid the waltzing couples. Ducking through the STAFF ONLY door felt like an adventure, a daring foray into the hotel’s forbidden realm.

  “I do smell sweets,” said Ilyas. “Just like Mom used to bake.”

  “Since when did your mom bake?”

  “What? Don’t all moms?” He pushed into the kitchen, nearly colliding with a waiter. “Perfect—you can help us. Are all the tarts eaten, or do you still have a few?”

  “Help yourselves, but don’t tell anyone.” He nodded over his shoulder. “There’s lemon, chocolate, and raspberry.”

  “Raspberry. Perfect.” Ilyas snagged a whole tray, but instead of offering them to Tatiana, he turned back the way they’d come. “I know the perfect place for a picnic, if you’re up for a ride.”

  “Oh, yeah? Where’s that?”

  “Follow me and find out.”

  Tatiana trotted after him, caught up in the game. They rode up in the elevator, all the way to the roof garden. Ilyas found a bench and set down his tray.

  “Here, take my jacket. Blue was always your color, but not for your lips.”

  Tatiana took it and snuggled into its depths. It was warm from his body, and smelled just like him, all wholesome spice and a hint of cologne. She realized she was nuzzling the collar and shook herself, embarrassed.

  “Give me one of those tarts,” she said.

  Ilyas raised one to her lips. She took it with a laugh and bit off a raspberry.

  “Mm. That’s, like…foodgasm.”

  “You used that word for those sesame cakes, when we’d sneak into town.” Ilyas had turned to the railing and was looking out over the city. “So, the Big Apple. Is this where you live?”

  “I have an office here, but I don’t really live anywhere.” She came up beside him and stood studying the skyline. Distant lights twinkled silver and gold. A car horn blatted somewhere far below. “I travel for work. I have clients in Europe and across the Middle East.”

  “Clients, right.” Ilyas cocked his head. “Did he say you’re a matchmaker? Prince Stefan, I mean.”

  “A dating coach.” She laughed, self-conscious. “Not psychiatry, I know. But it’s not so far off. People come to me in need, and I help them find their paths.”

  “You don’t have to justify yourself.” Ilyas moved closer, warm at her side. “I’m not where I said I’d be either. I never did finish law school.”

  Tatiana just sighed, overcome with nostalgia. She could still close her eyes and be back in their spot, that dim, curtained alcove at the Sunbird Café. “Remember our café? All those plans we made?”

  Ilyas chuckled. “I was going to see the world. Write a book. Be a judge.”

  “The wig wouldn’t suit you.” Tatiana cleared her throat. “What have you been up to? Married? Got kids?”

  “What, you don’t Google me? I must say I’m hurt.” He showed her his ring finger, bare as the rest. “Unencumbered. And you?”

  “Free as a bird.” She raised her own hand, and without really thinking about it, twined her fingers with his. “Did you Google me?”

  “I thought about it. But no.” His thumb grazed her knuckles.

  “You didn’t? Why not?”

  “Schrödinger’s ring. You’re not wearing one now, but if I’d Googled, you could’ve been. You could’ve been anywhere, doing anything, with anyone. But as long as I didn’t know, I could picture…well, this.”

  “I can’t tell when you’re teasing me and when you’re being romantic.”

  “I think you can.”

  Tatiana pressed closer till their lips almost brushed. She felt warm all over, and her heart was beating fast. Their first kiss had been like this, on a winter ski trip—just quick, by the chalet, in a wreath of icy breath.

  “Do you remember—” Tatiana looked up, startled by a flash. The sky was on fire, blooming gold and crimson. Bright trails glittered all around them, like they’d sheltered under a fountain. “Fireworks,” she breathed.

  “Happy New Year.” Ilyas leaned down and kissed her, and his lips felt like home. He kissed like he always had, sweet and unhurried, as if he never meant to stop. Tatiana’s head swam, and Ilyas held her steady. He held her as the fireworks popped and burst overhead, and Tatiana burned all over, a hot, hungry heat rising up from her belly.

  “They say you can’t go back,” she said when they broke apart at last. “But we could if we wanted to. Just for one night.”

  “You mean you and me?” Ilyas kissed her again, and this time she felt his urgency, his passion fanning hers as he drew her closer still. “I do have a suite, if you felt so inclined.”

  “We’ll leave the raspberry tarts. But we’ll take your cannoli.” She squeezed him between the legs, a quick, teasing touch. His cock jumped in answer, rising to the challenge. He swept her up in his arms and carried her to the elevator, and a cheer rose to greet them as he pressed for their floor—a loud “Happy New Year” ringing out from below.

  Grab your copy of

  Sheikh’s One-Night Stand

  Available January 6, 2022

  Available for pre-order now! www.LeslieNorthBooks.com

  The Sheikh’s Pregnant Bride

  BLURB

  Sometimes love can be a royal pain…

  When Sheikh Kamal first sees Erin across the room, he can’t keep his eyes off the stunning beauty. But Erin is unlike any other woman he had ever met. Even for an American, she’s exceptionally feisty, strong, and stubbornly independent.

  Erin had no idea that the handsome stranger she met at a party was really the leader of Jawhara, one of the wealthiest countries in the Middle East. To her, he’s simply an irresistibly sexy man. Tall, dark piercing eyes, killer body… He’d be perfect if it wasn’t for his personality. Arrogant, controlling, and dominating barely begins to describe him.

  After an intense night of passion, Kamal is called back to his country on an urgent matter, and Erin thinks that’s the end of it. But she couldn’t be more wrong. Because a few weeks later, Erin makes a shocking discovery. She’s pregnant with the heir to a kingdom.

  Kamal will do anything to bring her to make her his bride. But the last thing Erin wants is an arrogant prince as a husband.

  Can these two put their differences aside, and form the perfect royal family?

  Grab your copy of

  The Sheikh’s Pregnant Bride

  Available April 21, 2022

  Available for pre-order now

  www.LeslieNorthBooks.com

  BLURB

  Every time Natalie looks at her beautiful daughter, Iris, she can’t help but think about the passionate night she spent with a prince—and for good reason: Prince Iman Karawi is Iris’s father. Though Natalie longed to tell Iman about their daughter, unknown to her, Iman’s manipulative uncle hid the truth. Even as she goes on with her life, caring for her daughter and her dying mother, she cannot get thoughts of Iman out of her mind. Now, six years later, a chance meeting brings back all the feelings Natalie’s tried to forget. How could one-night haunt her after all this time? It’s clear Iman wants to continue where they left off, and it’s just as clear to Natalie that he might break her heart again. Especially if he ever finds out that little Iris is his.

  For Iman, Natalie was always more than a one-night stand. He never understood why she left so abruptly, and even years later during a chance meeting, he’s still drawn to the blonde beauty in a way he can’t explain. Despite being promised to another by his parents, Iman can’t suppress his excitement—or desire—at seeing her again. But this time, Iman is not ready to say good-bye. He makes her a job offer she cannot refuse, and as he and Natalie spend more time together, it’s clear to Iman he cannot marry his fiancé, not when the love he feels for Natalie burns so deep.

  As the past threatens to destroy their blossoming romance, it might be too late for either of them to find the happily ever after that has always been just out of reach.

  Grab your copy of The Sheikh’s Surprise Heir