Surrender to the Sheikh Read online

  Surrender to the Sheikh

  Diana Fraser

  Surrender to the Sheikh

  by Diana Fraser

  * * *

  © 2021 Diana Fraser

  978-1-927323-86-1 (epub)

  Playboy sheikh, Xander, wants a trophy wife, and Elaheh, a fiery sheikha, has no wish to be married at all.

  * * *

  Xander and Elaheh dislike each other at first meeting, and sparks continue to fly as they work with the other Kings of Havilah to bring peace and prosperity to their region.

  * * *

  But the distance they agree to keep from each other is destroyed when Elaheh is forced to accept Xander’s protection. Will this forced proximity bring them closer, or set them, and their countries, on a collision course?

  —The Sheikhs of Havilah—

  The Sheikh’s Secret Baby

  Bought by the Sheikh

  The Sheikh’s Forbidden Lover

  Surrender to the Sheikh

  * * *

  —Secrets of the Sheikhs—

  COMING 2021

  The Sheikh’s Revenge by Seduction

  The Sheikh’s Secret Love Child

  The Sheikh’s Marriage Trap

  * * *

  —Desert Kings—

  Wanted: A Wife for the Sheikh

  The Sheikh’s Bargain Bride

  The Sheikh's Lost Lover

  Awakened by the Sheikh

  Claimed by the Sheikh

  Wanted: A Baby by the Sheikh

  For more information about this author, visit:

  https://www.dianafraser.net

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is co-incidental. All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the US Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior permission of the author.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  The Sheikh’s Revenge by Seduction

  Also by Diana Fraser

  Prologue

  Shakira, Queen of Jazira, adjusted the cushions at the small of her back and eased back onto the chair, her hands cupping her pregnant stomach. She gave an exasperated sigh and looked at each of the three original kings of Havilah—Amir, Zavian and Roshan, her husband.

  It had been a long meeting now that there were six members in the group, rather than three. And it was the newer two members who were causing problems.

  “It’s getting worse,” said Shakira, watching Elaheh, Queen of Tawazun, walk out of the room with a haughty swish of the traditional robes she always wore. “It cannot go on like this.”

  The cause of Elaheh’s abrupt departure—Xander, the newly appointed King of Sharq Havilah—appeared not in the least perturbed. He stood out of earshot on the terrace, hands thrust into his pockets, his habitual frown framing his handsome face.

  Roshan also looked concerned as he finished his coffee and pushed away the empty cup. “They need to learn to work together.”

  “I agree with Shakira,” said Zavian. “This can’t be allowed to continue. Their enmity could undermine everything we are working towards, the peace we’ve worked so hard to create.”

  “They can’t seem to stand being in the same room together!” said Amir. “They’re impossible.”

  “They need to learn to work together,” repeated Roshan thoughtfully, his joined fists tapping against his lips as he surveyed his brother, chatting to one of the blushing maids. “My brother is not accustomed to being conciliatory.”

  “And nor is Elaheh,” murmured Shakira.

  Zavian thumped the table lightly. “Then they should work together on the Havilah-Tawazun infrastructure project. Just the two of them. It is a subject dear to both their hearts—”

  “If they have hearts,” muttered Amir.

  “And so they will have to learn to work together in order for the project to succeed.” Zavian turned to Roshan.

  “What do you think, Roshan? Will your brother be able to work with Elaheh?”

  Roshan bit his lip and Shakira could see he was conflicted. He loved his brother but was concerned at Xander’s controlling nature and apparent inability to compromise. He also felt guilty for having abdicated in order to marry her, leaving Xander king of the country he so dearly loved. “He’ll have to. I’ll talk to him.”

  Shakira squeezed Roshan’s hand and shot him a warm, supportive smile. “And I’ll talk to Elaheh,” she said. She turned to Zavian and Amir. “Leave it with us, we’ll make them see they have to work together, for all our sakes.”

  Zavian and Amir exchanged relieved glances.

  “Thank you,” said Amir. “There’s no alternative. They must work together or else everything is compromised.” He sighed. “They’re both fine people… separately. It’s when they’re together there’s a problem.” He shrugged.

  “Trouble is, they’re opposites,” added Zavian.

  As the three men went to join Xander, Shakira remained seated, her hand on her swollen belly. She heard Queen Elaheh’s helicopter take off. Her heart sank.

  The meeting had been a near disaster. Whenever Xander had spoken, Elaheh had visibly bristled and had given a cutting reply which Xander had ignored. It was like watching some kind of reality TV show—with all the danger and sparkiness and none of the humor. It chilled her to the core. She’d witnessed enough conflict and dissension in her life to know what harm it could do. She just hoped that Zavian’s plan would work, despite the fact he’d got the heart of the problem wrong.

  “Trouble is,” murmured Shakira to herself, “Xander and Elaheh aren’t opposites—they’re too much alike.”

  Chapter 1

  One week later…

  “That woman is becoming more impossible, if anything!” Xander scowled back at the group he and his brother, Roshan, had left behind in the hall of the desert hunting lodge in which the kings of Havilah always met. “Can’t we do something about her?”

  Roshan sat down and put his feet on the coffee table. He hooked his arms across the back of the chair, looking for all the world like the king of the country he was no longer king of.

  “What do you suggest?” he asked facetiously. “Have her deposed and exiled from her own country? Come on, Xander. We have to work with her. She’s too important.”

  Xander couldn’t take his eyes off the petite woman who still held court over Amir, Zavian and Shakira. “And she knows it, and she’s taking full advantage of it.”

  Roshan followed Xander’s gaze. “Shakira gets on well with her. She says she’s really smart.” He shrugged. “I don’t believe she’s being deliberately provocative. She’s simply a woman who knows what she wants.”

  “And no doubt she wants a husband. I pity the poor man she marries.”

  “Apparently, she’s showing no inclination to marry. Quite the opposite, in fact. Shame really. She’d be a great match for you.”

  Xander was so incensed he couldn’t speak immediately. Roshan gave him a double take and then calmly took another sip of his coffee.

  “Perfect,” Roshan added with a smile.

  “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

  Roshan’s
grin widened. “Maybe. It makes a change from me being the subject of matrimonial gossip and conjecture.”

  “Well you can stop conjecturing about me and Elaheh. She’s made it quite clear she can’t stand me.”

  Roshan tilted his head to one side and pursed his lips. “I’m not so sure. Sometimes, I think the way she looks at you and makes you a target of her cutting remarks reveals an uncommon interest.”

  Xander tossed down his phone in irritation and looked over Roshan’s shoulder at the woman in question. “You’re crazy,” he muttered, his eyes lingering on the upright way Elaheh stood, her back ramrod straight, and her thick dark hair pulled severely into an elaborate hairstyle. For a moment he wondered how long it would be when released from its tight bindings—if it were ever released. He couldn’t imagine Queen Elaheh ever being anything other than perfectly groomed. He smiled to himself; she probably went to sleep with her hair like that. But it did have a certain luster and fullness suggesting it was long. It probably fell to her bottom. His eyes lingered at where that bottom would be, hidden beneath a swathe of white robes. Then she turned to him and caught his eye. And for a moment their gazes clashed and tangled, and there was a flare of something he couldn’t put his finger on. In ordinary circumstances he’d have known what to call it—attraction. But these were definitely not ordinary circumstances, and she was definitely no ordinary woman. This was a woman who hated him, he reminded himself. A woman who couldn’t speak to him without either insulting or criticizing him. A woman who he hated right back.

  He scowled at her and she looked away. Xander turned back to Roshan. “I repeat, Elaheh has no interest in me, and I have no interest in her.”

  “But you will marry, won’t you?”

  “Of course. I know my duty. I will marry and produce heirs as is expected.”

  Roshan nodded. “Good. Shakira asked me to ask you if you had anyone in mind.”

  His gaze shifted to Elaheh and, annoyed at his weakness, he glared at her back. “Yes, as it happens and she’s nothing like Elaheh.”

  Roshan raised his eyebrow. “You have? Who?”

  Xander ran a finger around his collar as if it were suddenly too tight. “A friend of mine from university. She’s an expert on historical architecture. She’d be most suitable.”

  “Most suitable? That doesn’t sound like a match made in heaven.”

  Xander glared at his brother. “We can’t all fall in love like you did with Shakira. That’s a one-off.”

  Roshan shook his head. “No, it’s not. Look at Amir and Ruby, look at Zavian and Gabrielle. Two other couples who are crazy about each other.

  It was Xander’s turn to grunt. “I don’t do crazy. I don’t want crazy.” He cleared his throat. “Ashley is an academic—more interested in her feminist research than falling crazy in love.”

  “Sounds a riot,” murmured Roshan, rolling his eyes.

  “There you go again! ‘Riot’, ‘crazy’—these are things I refuse to have in my life.”

  Silence stretched and thickened and Xander knew what his brother was thinking.

  “You used to, Xander, when you were young. Before—”

  Xander shot his hand out, his palm flat against his brother’s words, determined to stop their flow. He refused to hear any more. “Don’t go there, Roshan.”

  Roshan pressed his lips together and nodded slowly. “Okay, for now. But you have to some time, if you’re ever to move forward.”

  Xander shifted his gaze away from Roshan, away from Elaheh, to the window which looked out toward the empty desert—a constant reminder of everything he didn’t wish to remember. Move forward? Xander felt as if he’d moved backward. Back to this place, his country, the only place in the world it seemed he couldn’t avoid, and which was full of harsh memories which he was determined to suppress. He gave an ambiguous grunt, which Roshan took for agreement.

  “Okay. So this Ashley is a possibility. Why don’t you describe to me your ideal wife and Shakira and I’ll see if we can’t help with some introductions.”

  “I’m fine with Ashley.”

  “Does she know yet?”

  Xander shook his head once. “But she will. She’s coming to visit in a few months.”

  “Okay. So I hope that goes well for you. But, in the mean time, let’s see if we can drum up some competition for Ashley. Describe your perfect woman.” Roshan sat back expectantly.

  Xander blinked as he continued to gaze at the distant horizon while his mind was suddenly filled with Elaheh’s face. Whatever she looked like, he told himself firmly, he wanted the opposite.

  Xander suddenly remembered the way Elaheh’s mouth was level to his chest as she looked up to him. Her breath against his neck had been like the scorching simoom desert winds, whittling away whatever it hits to its essence. He cleared his throat.

  “My wife will be tall,” said Xander, walking briskly to the desk he was using. He picked up a report, looked at it without reading it and then placed it firmly on a pile of outgoing correspondence. But the paperwork failed to remove the vision of Elaheh’s eyes, bright against her dark skin. He glanced up at Roshan who was observing him closely. “And pale. Definitely pale.”

  “Pale?” Roshan raised an eyebrow. “So, not a local woman then?”

  Xander shook his head and looked at the paperwork again. “No.”

  “Anything else?”

  Xander tossed down the paper, put his hands in his pockets and looked into the mid-distance. Elaheh’s beautiful lips rarely settled into their natural shape. They were always moving, always communicating her thoughts. “Quiet. Not much to say for herself but when she does speak…” He smiled to himself at the thought of Elaheh’s voice. He always felt it was perhaps the one true thing about her that she wasn’t able to disguise. It spoke more truly than the words she uttered, and its dulcet tones never failed to bypass all his objections to her and hit the target he managed to hide from everyone else. “Her voice will be soft, musical and seductive.” So, perhaps his ideal wife wouldn’t be the exact opposite. Okay to let that slip in, maybe, but he had to be firm on everything else. His future wife must be the opposite to Elaheh in every other way.

  “That’s some list. Anything else?”

  Xander turned to his older brother. “Curvaceous, large breasts.” He turned away. “I like large breasts.” He paused for a moment as he imagined Elaheh’s small breasts. “And”—he swept his hand in a careless gesture—“you know, easy company. I don’t want anyone who’s hard work.” He picked up a book and riffled through it for something to do.

  “You’re very definite in your views. I’m guessing you’re describing this Ashley person.”

  And, to his surprise, Xander realized he was. He narrowed his gaze onto his paperwork, comparing the two women in his mind’s eye. The one, Elaheh, he couldn’t stand. That much was obvious. The other, Ashley, he got on well with. She was beautiful and everything he’d just described. His frown deepened. Then why didn’t she arouse his passions like Elaheh did?

  He slammed the book shut. And that was exactly how he wanted it. If there was no passion, there was no pain. A simple equation, and one he fully intended to cling to.

  “Don’t bother looking for a wife for me, Roshan. I’ll sort that out for myself.”

  Roshan sighed. “Ashley.”

  “Yes. Dr Ashley Maitland and myself will create a formidable team. We’re friends. That’s a good start.”

  “Maybe,” said Roshan.

  Xander couldn’t ignore the doubt which was redolent in that one word.

  “No maybe about it.”

  Roshan grimaced. “I don’t think the woman of your dreams can be described in such specific terms. You sound so sure about what you want.”

  “I am. Because I know exactly what I don’t want. Or, should I say, who I don’t want to marry, nor have anything to do with.”

  “Ah,” replied Roshan, the light suddenly dawning on his face. “I see.”

  Xander grunted. “Goo
d. And so do I. When I look at Elaheh, when I hear her carping on at me, I know exactly that she is nothing, absolutely nothing, like the person I wish to marry.” He sat in a chair, feeling suddenly defeated, and looked bleakly at Roshan. He swore with fierce exaggeration under his breath. “Elaheh is a woman to drive a man out of his mind! If I have to spend any more time with her it’ll be too much. If I have to listen to her bossy ideas, I’ll go round the bend. In short, brother, keep me as far away from her as possible. Because if you don’t, I won’t answer for the consequences.”

  “Oh dear,” groaned Roshan, taking a few steps away, and pulling out his phone. “Look, I have to go. But I’ll be in touch.”

  “This is sudden. I thought you were going to stay for dinner.”

  Roshan gave a quick smile. “Change of plan.”

  Xander frowned as an unwelcome suspicion formed in the back of his mind. Something he’d said had made Roshan change his mood, and his plans. He mentally went over the previous conversation. He couldn’t move over one particular sentence. He groaned. “You haven’t, have you?”

  Roshan smiled, too brightly, his hand gripping the door. “Haven’t what?”

  Xander tilted his head to one side and narrowed his eyes, his gaze never leaving Roshan’s. “You know,” he said, in his best menacing voice. “You haven’t arranged anything between me and Elaheh, have you.”

  He didn’t raise his intonation at the end of the sentence. It was a statement, not a question.