Stella still can’t believe she agreed to marry a man she’d never met—and a king of all things! But something in her gut tells her this was the right decision and she trusts Naziha’s judgement implicitly. Their marriage gets off to a rocky start, though, when Stella realizes Kadir’s idea of ruling Al-Fatha is to remove everything that’s beautiful about it. His first act as king would decimate one of the loveliest parts of the tiny country and she just can’t let it happen. As much as she is attracted to her sexy sheikh husband, Stella’s not sure she can stay with a man who thinks so differently than she does. Was their marriage a mistake? Or will they be able to work through their differences and find a way to make their love last forever?

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  The Sheikh’s Stubborn Bride

  Available 05 August 2021

  www.LeslieNorthBooks.com

  EXCERPT

  Chapter One

  Nauseated probably wasn’t the best feeling to have on one’s wedding day.

  But as Kadir Oman, soon to be ruler of the tiny Arabian country of Al-Fatha, looked around the small room where he and his brothers were preparing for his upcoming nuptials, that was definitely the first word that came to mind.

  Of course, the fact he hadn’t eaten or slept in over twenty-four hours didn’t help, he was sure. Neither did knowing he was marrying a stranger, a woman he’d only met on paper and seen in person a few times from a distance. They had been connected through his sister’s matchmaking service, Shiraka. It was the Arabian word for partnership, and that’s what his sister’s company strove to provide—a partner not only for love, but for life. The business had been passed down through generations of women in his family, and his sister Naziha benefited from all those years of expertise. Kadir trusted her opinion, so he’d taken tons of surveys and filled out what seemed like hundreds of questionnaires so she could match him with just the right woman for his needs.

  Going back throughout the history of his tiny country, arranged marriages weren’t new. Truthfully, most of the royal family of Al-Fatha had met their mates through arrangements made based on family ties or economic benefits. It wasn’t like he expected a fairy-tale ending, a happily-ever-after romance. Those only happened in the old films he secretly loved and watched when no one else was around.

  No, he was doing this because it was time. Time to get married and start a family of his own. Time to get his life in order because he’d be ascending to the throne when his father stepped down in two months. Kadir needed a queen by his side to support him and help him succeed in his vision to bring Al-Fatha into the twenty-first century, better and brighter and stronger than ever.

  “What’s the matter?” Yusef asked from across the room where he was adjusting his keffiyeh in the mirror, his tone droll. The middle Oman brother was usually the quiet, serious one—an attorney and all that implied. “You look a bit green, brother. Having cold feet?”

  “No. Not at all.” Kadir frowned. He tugged on the formal white thobe with the gold embroidery down the front he’d been dressed in for the ceremony. Uncomfortable, he stared past his youngest brother Salah’s shoulder at the large family portrait hanging on the wall across from them. It was a huge thing showing his grandparents on their wedding day. Both looked smiling and happy, most likely because it was all over. Kadir wished he were that lucky. Getting married wasn’t something he’d planned on doing this quickly, but his sister had found him a suitable mate, and Kadir wasn’t one to put off the inevitable. He needed to marry, and so he was. He raised his chin and squared his shoulders. “I just want to make sure everything goes according to plan. The staff isn’t used to Western-style weddings.”

  Salah, the wildest of the Oman brothers by far, snorted. “Remind me again exactly why we’re including those touches to begin with?”

  “Because my bride is American. I want her to feel comfortable.”

  “Right. Your American bride who you’ve never even talked to before.” Salah elbowed Yusef in the side, then lowered his voice. “Maybe you’re queasy because you’re afraid you’ll lift her veil and see she has a unibrow.”

  Yusef chuckled and shook his head, getting in on the teasing. “Or a wart on her nose.”

  Salah laughed. “Or worst of all, she’s gorgeous and finds you repulsive, brother. Want to make a bet who pukes first? Kadir or her?”

  “Stop it! I have seen her before, and she is fine, physically. You know that. And yes, it was from a distance and in photographs, but all the tests show we are more than compatible.” Kadir stood and shoved past his brothers to check his appearance in the mirror again. He loved his family, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to pummel them sometimes. “Shouldn’t you both be out front now?”

  Yusef and Salah cleared out, thankfully, leaving Kadir to check his wardrobe one last time and go over his vows. He looked regal, strong, and sure. Just the image he wanted to project, even if he didn’t feel those things inside. Well, not the last one anyway. Strong, okay. But sure? Definitely not. Given that his own mother ran away from his father and their family when Kadir was just eight years old, he didn’t exactly have a good example to plot his own marriage by.

  Still, things would work out, because this marriage was based on quantifiable criteria. Similar interests, similar life goals, similar tastes. Nothing so fleeting and flighty as love, like his parents’ union. In his mind, any relationship based on love was doomed to disaster from the start.

  Loyalty, stability, trust. These were his guiding principles, the things he valued most. They were also the scores that were highest in the tests his sister had used when she’d matched him with his bride-to-be. Things would be fine. He’d make sure of it. He did not intend to go through this mess again. Ever.

  Kadir adjusted his white headdress and smoothed a hand over his short, dark beard. The door opened once more, and he looked over, expecting to see one of his brothers back to bother him, but instead, Naziha breezed in, looking gorgeous as always, petite and pretty with her long, shiny black hair twisted up into an intricate style atop her head and sparkling ruby earrings dangling from her earlobes. She rushed over and threw her arms around Kadir.

  “Oh, brother. I’m so excited for you on your big day.” She sniffled, then leaned back to meet his gaze, her dark eyes warm with affection. “I think you and Stella will be very happy together.”

  “Thank you, Naziha.” Guilt stabbed his chest before he could stop it, and he cleared his throat.

  She smiled and stepped away, walking over to check her appearance in the mirror, the hint of sadness in her eyes only apparent to Kadir because he knew her so well. Because marrying a stranger wasn’t awkward enough for him as it was, they’d chosen the same date that his sister’s wedding had been planned for. That wedding would never happen now. It hadn’t been Kadir’s choice, but more of a logistical must, given his impending rise to king in less than two months’ time and his need to have his bride fully briefed and ready to assume the reins of queenship when the time came. It was now or never, quite literally.

  If he stopped to think about the pressure of it all, he was likely to implode, so he didn’t think about it.

  Instead he shifted his attention to his sister, who’d grown quite silent all of a sudden. Too silent.

  “I’m sorry about the date, halu. I know this was supposed to be your wedding day, but…” He took a deep breath, swallowing hard against the squeeze of regret in his chest. It was his fault—his and his brothers—that Naziha wasn’t walking down the aisle herself today, and for that he’d never forgive himself. If only Salah and Yusef hadn’t teased the poor man so mercilessly. Kadir hadn’t taken part in that, but he was still guilty by association, and that was bad enough. He smoothed his hands over his sister’s small shoulders and gave her a solemn stare. “Are you all right?”

  Naziha nodded, her gaze lowered, then she gave him a tremulous smile and turned once more to check her makeup in the mirror. “Yes, I’m fine, brother. Really.” She caught his gaze in the reflection, and her smile widened. “Though I’m still a little upset with you.”

  Kadir gave her a crooked grin. “Understood. I just hope you haven’t been telling my new wife about how horrible I am. I know the two of you are friends.”

  His sister laughed. “I thought about it, no lie. But father wouldn’t allow it.” She winked. “Besides, you’re about to take the throne, and I know better than anyone that you’ll need a good, strong wife by your side. Stella will make an excellent partner for you.”

  “Let’s hope you are right.” Gratitude tempered the nervous tension that had been welling inside him and kept him awake all night. His sister’s thoughtfulness in taking such pains to find him just the right person to marry touched him deeply. Honestly, if their situation were reversed and he’d been the one who lost a fiancée because of his siblings’ actions, Kadir wasn’t sure he’d have reacted so magnanimously.

  In truth, Kadir had liked his sister’s fiancé, Charles. He’d been a nice enough man. English, very polite, but he didn’t have quite the status his family expected in such a match. Naziha had met him at university in America. They’d dated for a few months then gotten engaged about a year ago. But as the big date had approached, Salah had gotten the crazy idea into his reckless head that they should pull a practical joke on the groom-to-be. To make him feel more welcome, Salah had said, but of course the opposite had happened when it was all said and done. Yusef hadn’t said much either way about it, and Kadir had objected, but obviously not strongly enough. He might be the future king, but that carried no weight with his family.

  Kadir still winced when he thought of the night a few weeks back when they’d taken the poor man out on the town. Salah had arranged for the restaurant to serve all sorts of strange and disgusting dishes, then he’d lied and claimed they were local delicacies. Unfortunately, Charles had become ill because of the horrible food, and Salah had laughed in his face. Even Yusef had chuckled. Kadir had not laughed. In fact, he’d tried to help the guy, but it was too late. The damage was done. Charles and Naziha had had a nasty row the next day and had broken things off shortly thereafter. He’d said he’d felt like an outsider the entire time, never truly accepted by her family. Salah’s thoughtless joke had only proven his suspicions were correct—he was not welcome in Al-Fatha and never would be. He’d gone back to England by the end of the week, and Naziha had not heard a word from him since. The whole situation had been awful and unpleasant, and in his heart, Kadir knew he would feel responsible for his sister’s heartbreak for the rest of his days.

  As if in sympathy, his stomach cramped anew. Or maybe that was the stress. Hard to tell at the moment.

  “Okay, brother?” Naziha asked him, smoothing her hands down his chest. “You look a tad pale.”

  “I’m—”

  Before he could finish, the door opened again, and this time Kadir’s father, Ibrahim, poked his head in to say it was time. At fifty-eight, the current Sheikh of Al-Fatha was still in his prime. Tall and well-built, like his son, he looked hale and hearty enough to take on any obstacle blocking his country’s path. But despite his health, he’d told his eldest son and heir he was ready to turn the reins over to a new generation while he was still young enough to enjoy his retirement. So Kadir was set to ascend to the throne. If he survived his wedding day, that was.

  With a curt nod, he kissed each of Naziha’s hands, then followed her out the door and into the grand foyer of the royal palace of Al-Fatha where the ceremony would take place.

  His future was waiting, for better or worse.

  Stella Green stood at the end of the long marble entrance hall of the royal palace of Al-Fatha and mentally pinched herself for the umpteenth time, just to make sure this was all real. She’d never imagined this when she’d arrived in Al-Fatha for work eighteen months ago.

  She was a game designer, and a damned good one at that. She’d won all sorts of awards and critical acclaim for her beautiful designs and educational, interactive scenarios. She loved what she did and always tried to push the boundaries, including new, brilliant, never-before-seen content whenever possible. That was what had brought her to Al-Fatha in the first place.

  This tiny kingdom on the Arabian Peninsula had been the stuff of legends for years, only opening its borders to the Western world in the last thirty years, thanks to the current king. And as soon as the opportunity arose, Stella had been on a plane here, eager to see all of its natural wonders and breathtaking cultural treasures so she could include them in her created worlds. So far, she hadn’t been disappointed. From the stunning desert dunes to the opulent palaces and open-air bazaars teaming with local artisans selling traditional Al-Fatha crafts, street food, and spices, it was like walking right onto the set of an Indiana Jones movie. Stella had fallen in love with the place at first sight. Which was probably why she’d stayed way longer than her intended two months. But it didn’t really matter, since she didn’t have any social life outside of work, especially on the romance front. Nope. At twenty-six, she was single as single could be, footloose and fancy free. Or, at least, she had been.

  Then she’d met Naziha Oman in a coffee shop in Jazid, the capital city, and they’d hit it off immediately. Two women running their own businesses, Stella with her games and Naziha, her matchmaking service inherited from her aunt.

  Of course, Stella had been intrigued from the start. She’d tried online dating services and apps in America before, but never anything like what Naziha did. Her matchmaking service was so comprehensive, full of questionnaires about everything from personality to professional interests and compatibility. She’d asked Naziha millions of questions, mainly about the arranged marriage part of the deal. That wasn’t done often in America, but she’d since learned they were commonplace in Al-Fatha.

  In fact, according to Naziha, her family had been providing their services for generations and had found partners for some of the most important people in the Middle East, including sheikhs, business magnates, and tech billionaires. Even Naziha’s own brothers were now clients, she’d said.

  When Naziha had offered to enroll Stella in her program, free of charge, she’d balked at first. Sure, her love life wasn’t exactly great at the moment. More like nonexistent. And yes, she had a tendency to pick the wrong men at the wrong time for all the wrong reasons. But she wasn’t that desperate.

  They’d let the matter drop. But then Naziha had continued to bring it up periodically over the next month or so, each time making it sound a little less intimidating and a little more like it might be the answer to Stella’s prayers. She hadn’t dated at all since she’d been in Al-Fatha, having been too busy with work and not really knowing many people to mix and mingle with. Plus, she wasn’t getting any younger, and she did want to have kids one day. Not to mention her own radar when it came to picking men was faulty at best. Maybe having someone else take the guesswork out of it, have them pre-screen men for her, was a good idea. Or, as Naziha had said, why not let someone else who specialized in finding appropriate spouses have a shot at it?

  So, she’d filled out the paperwork and sat through all the interviews, then waited two weeks for Naziha to go through it all and find her the match of her dreams.

  Turned out that man was Naziha’s own brother, Kadir.

  Stella had been shocked, to say the least. She’d seen him several times at different events around Jazid, but they’d never met or talked to each other. Not to mention Stella had never imagined marrying royalty, let alone the man set to take over this very kingdom in a few months’ time. She’d expected Naziha to find her some nice, nerdy tech geek she could while away the hours with playing and talking video games, not a glamorous, gorgeous sheikh. Hell, Stella’s knees knocked each time she thought of the guy.

  Then there was the fact she had no idea how to be a queen. She’d watched The Princess Diaries more than enough times to know how much training was involved just to even know what fork to use, let alone all that diplomacy and etiquette and stuff. And sure, she was ambitious and smart and extroverted when she needed to be, but good lord. When it came right down to it, Stella was just some gal from LA with a crappy track record when it came to men and a newfound love for all things Al-Fatha.

  But Naziha had assured her that on paper, she was the perfect match for her brother. In fact, she’d said that Stella’s love for the traditions and culture of her country were the perfect balance to her older brother’s ideas to bring new technology and a new future to the country. Her brother needed balance, Naziha had said, and Stella would provide that in spades. Plus, she could advise her new husband on the tech side of things too, so yeah. Here she was, standing in her wedding dress, ready to walk down the aisle to marry a man she’d seen from afar but never even said boo too.

  If someone had told her last year this would be happening, Stella would’ve said they were nuts.

  Last month, coming from poised and professional Naziha, it had sounded perfectly reasonable.

  Today, as the first strains of the wedding march boomed through the marble corridors of the palace she’d soon call home and she stared down the aisle at her soon-to-be husband, the doubt demons attacked full throttle. Her pulse pounded like a jackhammer in her ears, and nervous energy buzzed inside her chest like a live wire. She clutched the bouquet in her hands like a shield. The grand foyer, which was about the size of a small stadium from Stella’s perspective, was packed with people. Outside, an even bigger crowd had gathered, along with helicopters and paparazzi. She wished she’d had time to invite her mother over from California, but everything had happened so fast and…