Sarah And The Secret Sheikh

Expecting the sheikh’s baby...

When one magical night with gorgeous and enigmatic Majed leaves Sarah pregnant, she’s torn apart over whether to reveal her secret. She already loves this baby, but will confirmed bachelor Majed feel the same?

Discovering he’s going to be a father changes everything for Majed. It’s time to face the music and unveil his true identity as Prince of Keddah Jaleel! He’d love to make Sarah his sheikha, if only he can convince her she’ll be much more than his convenient bride...

“What did you want to talk to me about?”

She stood and wiped her hands down the sides of her trousers. “I think you should come and take a seat and—”

“Stop fudging! Don’t delay any longer, Sarah. Out with it.”

“Fine!” She folded her arms, stuck out a hip. She swallowed, but lifted her chin. “I’m pregnant.”

For a moment her words made no sense. He even momentarily reveled in the relief that she wasn’t planning to leave Melbourne. “You’re—” he rubbed his nape “—pregnant?”

She nodded. “That’s right.”

“And...?”

She flopped down to her stool. She lifted her arms and then let them drop back into her lap. Her mouth trembled and her eyes were full of fear and sadness and tears and, strangely, some laughter. Her eyes contained the entire world. “And the baby is yours, Majed.”

Sarah and the Secret Sheikh

Michelle Douglas

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MICHELLE DOUGLAS has been writing for Mills & Boon since 2007 and believes she has the best job in the world. She lives in a leafy suburb of Newcastle, on Australia’s east coast, with her own romantic hero, a house full of dust and books, and an eclectic collection of sixties and seventies vinyl. She loves to hear from readers and can be contacted via her website: www.michelle-douglas.com.

MILLS & BOON

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

To my Auntie Ellen and Uncle Reg for letting me run wild on their Mount Vincent property when I was a wee, small thing...and for trusting I’d neither inadvertently drown myself in the dam or be eaten alive by the wildlife.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

SARAH SLID ONTO a stool and held her hand up for a high five as Majed passed on the other side of the bar. The palm-on-palm contact from the sexy barman sent heat ricocheting up her arm.

His raised eyebrow told her he was intrigued and she had to tamp down a laugh of pure, ridiculous exhilaration. His briefly raised finger told her to give him a moment while he served someone down the other end of the bar.

She settled onto the stool. She’d happily wait a hundred moments to share her news with him.

A hundred moments?

She rolled her shoulders and shook out her arms and legs. Maybe not a hundred moments. It wasn’t as though she thought of Majed in that way. Even if he was sexy as all-get-out, with his dark hair, tawny skin, and eyes as dark as a desert at midnight. She bit back a dreamy sigh. Eyes that were edged with long, dark lashes that should be wasted on a man but weren’t in this case as they only made him look more exotic.

But no. It wasn’t because Majed was hot with a capital H that she’d quite happily wait until closing time to tell him her news but because she knew he’d understand. An easy-going friendship had sprung up between them over the past year when she’d barely been paying attention and she gave thanks for it now.

He prepared the order for the three women at the far end of the bar—mojitos—with a casual elegance Sarah envied. The women all flirted with him—flashing smiles and cleavage with a good-natured abandon that had Sarah biting back a grin. He said something that made them laugh, looking for all intents and purposes completely at ease, yet she sensed he held some part of himself back.

Majed: man of mystery, man of contrasts. He managed this bar but he didn’t drink. He attracted women in droves—and some men—and was equally pleasant and courteous to all. He could have his pick from the beautiful people who frequented this inner-city Melbourne bar but she’d never seen him go home with anyone.

Mike, her best friend’s older brother and the owner of the bar, had asked her to keep an eye on Majed, to give him a hand if need be. As he was letting her crash at his swanky inner-city apartment for the six months of his current overseas sabbatical, it had seemed little enough to promise in return. Mike called her his house-sitter but, as he had no cat to feed or houseplants to water, Sarah had secretly dubbed herself his charity case. Mike had simply taken pity on her.

Pity or not, she’d jumped at the chance to cut forty-five minutes each way from her daily commute.

And keeping an eye on Majed had proved no hardship at all.

Mike had mentioned that he and Majed had gone to university together. She knew where Mike had gone to university. Majed should be a banker or a businessman or some hotshot lawyer. Like Mike, he should have a whole chain of bars, restaurants and resorts across the world—or at least be working towards it. What he shouldn’t be doing was twiddling his thumbs behind some bar in Melbourne.

Oh, right, and you think you’re qualified to be dispensing vocational advice, right?

She winced.

Good point.

She knew all about treading water in a job that was going nowhere. She knew all about not living up to her potential. She ought to. Her mother reminded her of it every single time they spoke.

Majed moved back down the bar towards her and she resolutely shoved her mother’s voice out of her head.

‘Your usual?’

Her usual was a glass of house white. She straightened and rubbed her hands together. ‘I’ll have bubbles, please.’

That eyebrow rose higher. ‘Celebrating something?’

She laughed because she couldn’t help it. ‘I can’t drink alone tonight. Let me buy you a drink.’ He opened his mouth but she cut him off. ‘Be a devil and have a lemon squash on me.’

Shaking his head, he did as she bid, and she noticed that at her end of the bar his smile was more relaxed and his shoulders swung a little freer. The fact he relaxed around her loosened the hard knots that the working day had wound up tight inside her.

He slid a glass of bubbles in front of her and she promptly clinked it to his glass of squash. ‘To the fact that I am now officially a single woman again.’

Stunned midnight eyes met hers and his smile, when it came, was low and long and sent a spiral of heat circling through her belly.

He leaned towards her. ‘You did it? You broke up with Superior Sebastian?’

Ah...not exactly. Sebastian had been the one to dump her. But it came to the same thing—she was single and rid of the awful boyfriend. And Majed looked so happy for her...he looked proud of her. It had been an age since anyone had looked at her like that, so she didn’t have it in her to correct him.

She pointed to herself. ‘Free woman.’ That, after all, was the material point. She then waved her hand through the air, assuming supreme indifference. ‘I’ve kicked his sorry ass to the kerb. Never again, I tell you.’ And she meant it. She was having no more of Sebastian’s on-again, off-again mind games. She couldn’t even remember why she’d put up with it all in the first place.

Majed took a long pull on his drink and she couldn’t help but notice the lean, tanned column of his throat and the implicit strength in the broad expanse of his shoulders. He set his glass down. ‘Never again?’

She shook her head. ‘Never.’

‘Cross your heart?’

She crossed her heart. In one smooth movement Majed leaned across the bar, cupped her face in big, warm hands and then his lips slammed down on hers in a brief but blistering kiss.

When he eased back all she could do was stare.

He frowned. ‘I shouldn’t have done that.’

She tried to marshal her scattered wits, tried to corral her racing pulse. ‘Oh, yes, you should.’ She found herself nodding vigorously. ‘You really should’ve done that.’

Whatever he saw in her face chased his shadows away. He shrugged, and she swore it was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. ‘I couldn’t kiss you when you were going out with another man.’

Majed had wanted to kiss her? If she’d known that, she might’ve broken up with Sebastian sooner.

Her heart pounded. ‘I was an idiot to put up with Sebastian and his so-called “this is for your own good” sermons for so long. It’s just...’ It was just that sometimes she was hopeless.

Majed folded himself down on the bar until he was eye-level with her. ‘You will get his voice out of your head right now and you won’t let it back in. You hear me? You do not need to lose weight. You do not need to wear more make-up. You do not need to do your hair differently. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with ordering a fluffy duck rather than a martini, because you don’t have to be too cool for school, Sarah Collins. You’re perfect just the way you are.’

She stared at that mouth uttering those delicious words—words she sorely wanted to believe—and her chest coiled up tight and her mouth dried. She glanced up and moistened her lips. He watched the action and midnight eyes glittered and sparked. Her blood pounded so hard it made her thighs soften. ‘Now I want to kiss you,’ she whispered.

‘That wouldn’t be wise.’

But he was staring at her lips with unadorned hunger and he didn’t move away.

‘Perhaps not, but it’d be fun.’

He gave the tiniest of nods in acknowledgement.

She lifted her chin. Mike had asked her to keep an eye on him. ‘When was the last time you had fun, Majed?’

His pupils momentarily dilated. ‘A long time.’

In those eyes she saw unexplained pain before heavy lids lowered to block it from her sight.

She sat back and surveyed him. He’d been counselling her for months now, telling her she deserved something better than a constantly critical boyfriend. And he’d been right—she did deserve better. And so did he. The way he was going, he’d work himself into an early grave.

She pursed her lips. That might be an exaggeration. She was rubbish at the work side of things but she could make up for it on the play side of the equation. ‘Do you ever drink?’ she asked.

He straightened. ‘I’ll be back.’

He moved away to serve a customer. When he returned he folded himself down into the same eye-level position. Did he know how sexy that was? Did he know she’d only have to close the space with a small forward movement to kiss him? If she did...

‘You have very speaking eyes.’

His grin was full of temptation. It was all she could do not to swoon—or kiss him. She settled for grinning back at him instead. ‘I’m feeling happy, free...and in the mood for some fun.’

She’d never been this bold before, but she couldn’t find it in herself to regret it. She’d made a fool of herself over far less worthy things.

She shrugged but she doubted it was one of those confident, nonchalant gestures all the cool girls managed. Something in the gesture, though, made Majed’s face soften. ‘What can I say, Majed? I like you.’

He was quiet for a long moment and just when she’d started readying herself for a hot squirm of embarrassment, and the shame of a kindly worded rejection, he said, ‘Brandy. Sometimes, late at night when I’m home alone, I’ll indulge in a small glass of brandy.’

Her heart grew so big it blocked her throat, leaving her temporarily unable to speak. Finally she swallowed. Air flooded her lungs and her blood danced. ‘Maybe you’d like to have a brandy with me tonight? When you’re done here?’

He reached out to wind his finger around a lock of her hair. ‘There’s no maybe about it. I’d like it very much.’

Ooh! Ooh! She found it impossible to form a coherent thought.

He gestured towards the far end of the bar to the waiting customers. ‘Don’t go anywhere.’

‘I’m not going anywhere.’ She couldn’t believe how strongly her voice emerged when the rest of her felt as weak and shapeless as smoke. Well...it felt weak until his smile sent her floating up towards the ceiling.

* * *

Sarah stretched and encountered a warm male body.

She opened one eye to find Majed sending her a low, sexy smile that warmed her blood. Her other eye flew open as the events of the previous night flooded her. Their love-making had... Wow! She gulped She hadn’t known it could be like that.

‘Good morning.’

She couldn’t contain a grin. ‘From where I’m lying, it’s a very good morning.’

She lifted a hand to trace the firm contours of his bare chest. Majed sucked in a breath. And then three loud knocks pounded on her front door. Her hand stilled. Majed raised an eyebrow.

She lifted a finger to her lips. ‘If we’re quiet they might go away.’

The knocking started up again.

And again.

Majed’s lips twitched. ‘They don’t seem to want to give up.’

She bit back a sigh before pointing a finger at him. ‘Don’t go anywhere.’

He brought her finger to his lips and kissed it. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’

She slipped on a robe and belted it at her waist. ‘I’ll be back. Very soon.’ She’d get rid of whoever it was in double-quick time.

And then maybe they could resume last night’s...delights.

Majed shucked up the bed, resting his hands behind his head. The sheet threatened to slip beyond his waist. All she had to do was grab the sheet in one hand, tug, and...

If it were possible, Majed’s smile grew wider and sexier. ‘Answer the door, Sarah.’

Oh, yes! The sooner she got rid of her unwelcome visitor the sooner she could get back to bed...and Majed.

It was all she could do to contain a shimmy when she flung open the door.

‘What the hell took you so long?’ Sebastian barrelled into the room.

Her jaw dropped and then she pointed back the way he’d come. ‘Leave, Sebastian. Right this moment. We’ve nothing to say. We’re done, so just please go.’

‘Hey, baby, don’t be so hasty.’

He tried to take her in his arms, but she side-stepped him. Majed had been so right about Sebastian. Why hadn’t she realised that sooner?

Because you wanted to annoy your mother.

‘Aw, Cuddles...’

‘Don’t call me baby and do not call me Cuddles!’ God, how she loathed that nickname. It made her sound like an over-fed cat. A neutered over-fed cat. ‘We have nothing—’

‘I’m sorry, baby. I know I was awful yesterday. I’d had a terrible day at work. I didn’t mean what I said, and I don’t want to break up with you.’

Had she honestly fallen for this tripe in the past? ‘I don’t want you to want me back, Sebastian. What I want is for you to leave. Now.’

He frowned evidently baffled. Shame, hot and queasy, made her stomach churn. When had she let herself become such a pushover? When had she decided to settle for so little?

He straightened and moved towards her, determination glinting in the hard twist of his mouth. Good God, did he mean to kiss her into submission? If he tried it he’d find himself on the floor clutching his groin. Her mother had taught her about men like him.

‘If you touch the lady, I’ll be forced to take action.’

Majed leaned against the doorway to the bedroom, wearing nothing but a pair of snug cotton trunks—royal blue—that did nothing to hide his...impressiveness. Her mouth dried at the sheer magnificence of six feet of honed muscle lounging in the doorway, waiting for her to come back to bed. A sigh of pure appreciation rose through her.

Sebastian stared from Majed to Sarah and back again. It would’ve been almost comical if his surprise hadn’t been so darned offensive. Finally he swung around and called her a one-word name that made her flinch.

With the casual elegance she envied, Majed strode across and landed a right hook to Sebastian’s jaw. Hauling him off the floor, he dragged him to the door and flung him out into the hallway before closing the door on him.

He did it efficiently. Like a trained warrior. And Sarah had no hope of getting her pulse back under control. ‘Um...thank you.’

‘You’re welcome.’

Her heart thundered in her ears. Would it be really poor form to push Majed back into the bedroom and have her wicked way with him? Or should she offer him coffee first? Actually, she had no intention of doing anything without his signal consent because...

She swallowed. Because at the moment he looked seriously forbidding.

She gripped her hands in front of her and prayed for her fantasy lover—the Majed of last night—to come back.

‘You lied to me.’

She blinked. ‘When?’

‘You told me you’d dumped him.’

She swallowed, her hands twisting together. ‘I told you I was a free woman.’

‘But you deliberately let me believe the break-up was at your instigation, yes?’

Her heart sank. She had. He’d been so proud of her...and she’d wanted to revel in the sensation. She refused to compound the lie with another one. She couldn’t speak, so she nodded instead. She wished he’d smile. She tried for levity. ‘Are you going to punch me on the nose now?’

He did smile, but it was the kind of smile that made her heart ache. ‘I would never do anything to hurt you, Sarah.’ He strode over and lifted her wrist to his lips. ‘I’ve had a wonderful night.’

She did what she could to swallow the lump that tried to lodge in her throat. ‘So did I,’ she whispered. ‘But from the look on your face, I’m guessing this is goodbye.’

‘Yes.’

He let go of her hand and it felt as if she’d been cast adrift on an endless grey sea. ‘Goodbye...for good?’

He nodded.

‘Even though I didn’t instigate the break-up, I wanted it just as much as Sebastian did. I was relieved that it was over.’

‘So why do I now feel as if you were searching for a distraction last night to take your mind off your hurt?’

That wasn’t true! But she could see he wouldn’t believe her. She’d ruined it—ruined the chance at something amazing—with one careless lie. She tamped down on the sob that rose in her chest. ‘I messed up.’ Again. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Ah, Sarah.’ For a moment regret stretched through his eyes. ‘You’re on the rebound, and I’m in an impossible situation. There really wasn’t anything to mess up.’

He kissed her cheek and then strode back into the bedroom to dress. Sarah stumbled into the kitchen to make coffee and try to formulate a plan to salvage something from the situation. The click of the front door told her not to bother.

She walked back into the living room and stared at the closed door. With an effort, she straightened and pushed her shoulders back. Majed was right. Great sex didn’t automatically make for a great relationship.

For heaven’s sake, she didn’t need a boyfriend. What she needed was some time alone to get her head straight—work out what she really wanted. It might be for the best if she didn’t drop into the bar quite so regularly this week. Maybe not drop in at all for a couple of weeks.

But the thought of not seeing Majed at all caught at her in a way that made her ache. Not to have the chance to chat with him or share a joke...

She dragged both hands back through her hair. ‘No, Majed, you’re wrong. I did mess up. I messed up bad.’

* * *

Majed sensed the exact moment Sarah walked into the bar.

Even though he had his back to the door.

Even though it was a Wednesday night and she hardly ever came into the bar on a Wednesday night.

Not that she’d shown her face in here all that often in the last six weeks.

He set a Scotch and soda in front of the customer he was serving, took their money and gave change, all the while readying himself for the jolt of seeing her. He glanced towards the door. She’d stopped to chat to a table of her friends—other regulars—and he did what he could to ignore the clutch low down in his gut. She’d had this effect on him from the very first moment he’d met her. In all likelihood she’d have it on him till the day he died. Some things were just like that—desert sunsets, palm fronds moving in a breeze, the scent of spices on the air...and the sight of Sarah.

It didn’t excuse the fact he’d been an idiot to go home with her. He should’ve resisted the temptation. After all, he’d managed to avoid desert sunsets, date palms and spice markets with remarkable ease.

He pushed the memories away—memories of home. They might haunt his sleeping hours, but he refused to dwell on them when he was awake.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. He still couldn’t believe he’d relaxed his guard so much.

It was just...

He grabbed a cloth and vigorously wiped down the bar. She’d made him feel like he could be someone different—that he was someone different. When she spotlighted him with those pretty blue eyes of hers, she made him feel worthy. And, God forgive him, but he’d been too weak not to revel in it.

The man at the far end of the bar tapped his empty beer glass. Majed got him another. He bent down to check the stock in the fridge. But, rather than rows of wine bottles and mixers, all he could see was fragments from the night he’d spent with Sarah. They replayed through his mind on an endless loop—the curvaceous length of her leg, the way her body had arched to meet his, the taste of her. They drew him so tight, his muscles started to ache. That night had been spectacular—unforgettable.

But the morning after...

He straightened in time to see her laugh at something one of her friends said. Her stupid lie—it hadn’t even been a big lie—had reminded him of the mistakes that lay in his past. His hands clenched. Mistakes he had no intention of repeating.

And it had reminded him of all that he owed his family. He forced his hands to unclench. Where on earth did he think a romance with an Australian woman could go? He grabbed a tray of dirty glasses and stacked them in readiness for the dishwasher. If he wanted to redeem himself in the eyes of his family he’d have to submit to a traditional marriage—a marriage made for political purposes that would cement democracy in his beloved Keddah Jaleel and ensure peace for future generations.

Love for his homeland welled inside him. He missed the desert night sky. He missed walking beneath the date palms on the banks of the Bay’al River. He missed the bustle of the undercover markets, the air heavy with the scent of clove and nutmeg. He missed...