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There was a strong and handsome sheikh who was betrothed since birth. The girl he was promised to marry was alluring and exotic, passionate and intelligent. She was a woman certainly fit to be the sheikh's bride and a queen in the future. The sheikh thought so, too, until the day his betrothed’s family came to his kingdom, and he met her.
His betrothed's sister.
****
“YOUR HIGHNESS, THEY are here.” Aretha, his betrothed, touched his back, and Mik'hail turned immediately, curling an arm around her waist so they could present a united front.
The day had arrived that his betrothed's family was to come live with them in his palace, and the sheikh was genuinely looking forward to welcome Aretha's kin.
Her parents were the first ones he saw, a distinguished-looking couple he had heard only good things about. Lord Richard had known the late king during their years in Eton, and it was because of the the two men's friendship that their children’s betrothal had come to be.
“Please.” The sheikh shook his head when Lord Richard was about to bow, and Lady Elizabeth had already raised her skirts to curtsy. “Formalities are not needed.” Instead, Mik'hail came down from the dais to shake hands with Aretha's father and bowed in greeting to his future mother-in-law. "We are to be a family, after all."
The words put the older couple at ease and with a smile, Lady Elizabeth said, “May I present my younger daughter, Lady Aurora?” She stepped back and drew a girl forward—-
And in that second, the sheikh's life was turned upside down.
The girl was tall where her sister was dainty and slender where her sister was buxom. Her hair was the shade of the sun, her eyes blue gray like stormy skies.
Dipping into a curtsy, the girl said sweetly, “Thank you for the welcome, akh.” She was clearly teasing him, the twinkle in her eyes unmistakable.
It had his lips twitching, but the rest of her family was horrified.
“Aurora,” Aretha snapped while their father sighed, and their mother gasped.
Straightening, the girl said with cheeky innocence, “What?” She glanced at the sheikh. “You don’t mind, do you, Your Highness?” Her voice, even mischievous, was low and husky, a sound made for the bedroom.
Mik'hail slowly shook his head.
No, he did not mind.
In fact, he had a feeling that whatever this girl did, he would not mind at all, and that, the sheikh thought grimly, was the problem.
****
THE SHEIKH WAS ENCHANTED. He strove to hide it, even denying the truth to himself. But each day, the feelings became deeper, and it did not help that Aretha and he had begun to quarrel as well. Although they had never spoken about it, the sheikh suspected that Aretha was aware of his interest and considered it a personal slight. He saw it in the way she so jealously guarded him whenever Aurora was around, saw it with the way she would take out her anger and insecurities on her sister...like now.
Aurora had just entered the dining hall when Aretha started shrieking.
"What do you think you're doing?"
The younger girl froze.
“Did I not teach you how to walk? To do it like a lady instead of galloping and stomping like a horse?” Aretha gestured to the sheikh furiously. “Do you want everyone to think that the sheikh is marrying
into a family of Thoroughbreds?"
Aretha started to say more but was forced to swallow the rest of her words when she saw the sheikh turning her way with cold, dark eyes.
"Enough of that, milady," The words, albeit softly spoken, were clearly a command. “You know it doesn’t matter to me. I do not insist on formalities with your family.”
Aretha’s lips tightened. “Don’t spoil her, Your Highness. You’re only making it worse. She needs to remember these things so she won’t mess up in our wedding.”
When the sheikh was about to retort, Aurora said hastily, “She's right, Your Highness. Let me try it again." Hurrying back to the doors, Aurora took care not to let her usual exuberance show as she retraced her steps, and she walked with such grace this time that she was unaware of how elegant she appeared, more so than Aretha could have ever aspired.
Aurora turned to her sister upon reaching her chair. “Is that okay, Aretha?” There was no note of sarcasm in her note. It was clear in her hopeful expression that she only yearned of the older woman's approval.
“It’s passable.” Aretha’s voice, but the envious resentment in her gaze betrayed her true feelings.
Aurora, however, appeared oblivious to her sister's animosity and simply shrugged as she took her seat, saying cheerfully, "I'll be sure to improve in time."
Mayhap so, the sheikh thought, but unfortunately the same could not be said for the rest of the evening. Aretha, used to being wooed out of her anger, was furious at the way the sheikh ignored her petulant replies and instead engaged her father in conversation about business.
Incensed beyond bearing, the sheikh's betrothed stood up and stalked out of the room without a word.
The entreating look in Elizabeth's eyes made the sheikh say in a gentle but firm voice, “I’m sorry, milady, but I will not go after her. It is essential my intended learns that I am not the type to reward tantrums with wooing and apologies.”
Elizabeth was visibly embarrassed, but she sought to defend Aretha’s actions nonetheless, saying anxiously, “Surely you see she only did that because she was concerned about your reputation?”
Richard was frowning at his younger daughter. “This is your fault, Aurora. You know how your sister is.”
Shooting the sheikh a pleading look when she saw that Mik'hail was about to contradict this, Aurora instead bowed her head to her father. "I'm sorry, sir."
Richard and Elizabeth left as soon as plates from the last course were cleared from the table, and Aurora, seeing that this also angered the sheikh, quickly rose from her seat to take the one on the sheikh's right.
She touched the sheikh's arm gingerly. "Do not let yourself be troubled by this, akh."
"It's not right that your parents treat you in such a manner," Mik'hail said grimly. And it was not right as well that, despite of the innocence of her touch, his body had become tautly aware the moment her fingers grazed his skin.
"They only want me to do better."
"Why do they treat you so?"
Aurora didn't answer.
"And why are you letting them?"
Aurora retrieved her hand, and although the loss of her touch made him feel hollow, the sheikh was more disturbed by the way she suddenly couldn't seem to meet her eyes.
"Look at me, Aurora."
When she shook her head, he cupped her chin and left her no choice but to do as he bid.
What he saw made him curse. “You’re crying.”
She wrenched her face away. “I’m not—-" She ended up gasping when the sheikh suddenly rose to his feet.
"I will not stand for this."
Aurora was aghast when the sheikh suddenly walked away, clearly intending to have a word with her family.
Mik'hail was about to reach the door when he felt slim arms wrapping around his waist from behind.
“No, akh, please!”
Her sweet, small breasts were pressed against him, but so was her tear-stained cheek, which slowly soaked the back of his shirt.
The sheikh expelled his breath in an angry hiss. “Let go of me.”
But this only made Aurora tighten her arms around him and caused her breasts to press harder against the muscled wall of his back.
“Please, akh. Please. It’s as Mother said. My sister only wants to make sure that I do not accidentally shame you. Please do not be mad at any of them.” Her voice shook as she whispered, “Please, Your Highness, I’m begging you.”
When she begged him like that, he found himself unable to resist her. He gently took hold of her hands and unclasped them so he could turn around to face her. "It will be as you wished...for now." He intended to tell her as well that she shouldn't expect to always get her way, but before he could speak again, Aurora had already tiptoed to place a gentle kiss on his cheek.
The sheikh froze.
The kiss didn’t last for more than a second, but ah, the feel of those soft, ruby-red lips. His cock stirred, arousal dominating his senses even though the sheikh knew it was forbidden.
“Thank you, akh.” Her voice wove a spell around him, tormenting his cock even more. “You really are the best brother I could ever wish for."
The sheikh could only smile tightly, thinking that Aurora, on the other hand, was the worst sister-in-law he could ever have.
Aurora smiled up at him. "Walk me to my room?"
"Of course."
The two walked out of the dining hall, both of them with their hands clasped behind their backs, and their heads bent towards each other as the sheikh and his betrothed's sister spoke of how their respective days had gone.
It was a beautiful moment, marred only by a pair of eyes that followed them with jealous fury.
Traitors, the unnoticed woman screamed silently at the two. You will pay, I will make you all pay for your treachery!
****
THE RIFT BETWEEN THE sheikh and his intended only worsened with the passage of time. As it had become increasingly harder for Mik'hail to hold his tongue and not defend Aurora as he wished, he had taken to spending most of his days working either in his study or performing manual labor in the conservatory, personally tending to the roses that had been the late queen's legacy.
And it was on such a day, when Mik'hail had just entered the conservatory, that he heard an unexpected sound.
"Welcome back, Mik'hail."
The sheikh was startled at the husky voice that floated towards him. “Aurora?” That was her voice, wasn’t it? What was she doing here and why the hell was she calling him that?
“Over here,” she sang.
The sound of her voice made him hesitate, his body stirring in ways that it should never do, and for the only eighteen-year-old girl in the kingdom that he must never touch.
Even as he told himself it was better to turn away and leave, the sheikh found himself doing the opposite, the pull he felt towards Aurora as irresistible as ever. Walking further inside the conservatory, he finally found her next to the garden beds, down on her knees, smudges of dirt on her face.
“What are you doing here?”
“What are you doing here?” she returned cheekily.
“Escaping,” he said bluntly, but neglected to tell her that it was her sister he was trying to escape. He liked the peace and quiet the trees and flowers in the conservatory gave him, something that was the exact antithesis of what Aretha currently symbolized in his life.
Her eyes narrowed at him. “You look bad, akh.”
He winced, for her. That was not exactly the proper thing to say to a sheikh – and especially the she who owned the palace where she currently resided for free. “Do me a favor," he said dryly, "and do not let your parents and sister hear you talk to me like that.”
Below him, Aurora’s grin had only widened at his words. “I’m only being honest – and concerned. You do look bad, you know.” Her arch tone, combined with her hair pinned up in a ponytail and the faded, oversized dress she had on, made Aurora appear more like a child playing grown up than anything else.
The sheikh sighed at her stubbornness. “I appreciate you telling me so, but again, please refrain from saying such things in front of your family.”
“Relax, akh. They’re off to another party,” she told him gleefully.
He had never seen her so relaxed or more vibrantly beautiful, and he suspected it had much to do with the fact that her whole family was out of the palace. "I know better than to ask whether they invited you or not," he said, "but if they did, would you have liked to go?"
Aurora rolled her eyes. “Duh, akh. I like it better this way, and you know why that is?"
The mischievous smile that curved over her lips hit him hard, and he had to turn sideways to casually hide the bulging evidence behind his pants before answering. "Why?"
“Because I’m freeeeee!”
The way she shrieked the last word out had him wincing, but it also had the sheikh's gaze gleaming with amusement, and Aurora beamed back at him.
“They won’t be back until tomorrow, too,” she added cheerfully. “I heard them say so."
"Let us hope then," he murmured, "that you will not find yourself bored."
"Why should I be bored?" Aurora glanced at him oddly. "I have you, don't I?"
Mik'hail's face became impassive. How simple those words were, and yet how true they were, too, in an ironic sense. He was hers. But...she could never be his. The realization was enough to blacken his mood, but not wanting Aurora to notice, he abruptly changed the subject, saying, "You called me by my name earlier."
Aurora suddenly looked innocent. "So?"
Too innocent, Mik'hail thought, and he knew right away it hadn't been an accidental mistake on her part. "Because it is not proper," he said, exasperated.
"Even if it's just the two of us? And besides..." Her nose wrinkled. "I know Aretha insists on calling you by your English name, but I don't think it suits you. It's such an ordinary name, and you’re...well...extraordinary. You’re a warrior, and a name like Mik'hail better suits you.”
The sweetness in her words was beguiling. It tempted his heart to crack open, but it also had his cock throbbing even more painfully. Aurora thought him extraordinary. A warrior even, and although he knew she had spoken with the utmost sincerity, all he could think about was showing her just how much a warrior he was, with the way his cock could conquer her a thousand times in a single night.
Fuck.
He wanted to fuck her so goddamn bad he almost found himself cursing the day she had been born. She should've been born sooner dammit, so that it would be her he was betrothed to and not her sister.
"You're frowning," Aurora blurted out. "Do you really not like me calling you by your name?"
"It's not that," he said curtly. "I only think it's unwise for you to be too...fanciful."
Aurora rolled her eyes. "You just sound like my whole family right there. Being fanciful is not a crime, Your Highness."
The sheikh didn't bother responding to this, knowing a rabbithole of endless arguments when he saw one. Instead, he strode to the set of velvet settees arranged at the center of the conservatory, needing to put more distance between them.
When the sheikh took his seat, which faced the small, cultivated forest in the left, he realized with unease that the distance he had sought was nonexistent, with Aurora promptly plopping next to him on the couch.
She was closer than ever now, so damn close that when she kicked off her slippers and pulled her legs up, her bare toes grazed against the side of his thighs.
"If Mik'hail is to be what I call you when we're alone,” Aurora murmured, "what then shall you call me?"
This, he didn't have to think about.
"Brat," the sheikh said right away, and smirked at the way Aurora's jaw dropped open.
"I am not a brat!"
The sheikh laughed at the outright lie. “Yes, you are. And you know it.” Actually, they both knew it. Hell, even the entire palace knew it, but even so everyone loved her because she was, ultimately, a lovable brat. She was the kind of brat who badgered the cook until the old lady allowed her to help in the kitchen. She was the kind of brat who berated the butler for not sitting down when he was tired rather than stand on foot all day. She was a brat, but she meant well, and the feelings he strove to bury were harder to keep a secret because of it.
Aurora was laughing. “Fine. I can be a brat, but not all the time. You know it’s so.” Jumping to her feet, she gave the sheikh a wave. “I need to get back to my roses.”
"You mean my roses," he reminded her.
"We can share them then," she answered magnanimously as she slid her feet back into her slippers.
He watched her walk away and tried not to think too much of the seductive sway of her hips. She was halfway to the garden beds when she suddenly turned around, asking uncertainly, "Is it really okay...that I'm coming here? I don't want to intrude on your privacy—-"
The sheikh shook his head. "You are free to visit this place anytime."
"Thank you, Your Highness."
The sheikh rolled his eyes at the way she took exaggerated care with her curtsy. "Go on, brat." As Aurora knelt down to resume work on the garden beds, Mik'hail took his phone out of his pocket and sent a message to his betrothed.
Mik'hail: Will you be back by tomorrow?
Aretha: We have been invited to stay over the weekend. I fear it would be offensive if we didn’t accept.
His lips twisted. As the future queen of Layla, she could do anything she wanted, and no one would dare disagree.
Mikhail: Come back tomorrow. It is time we set a date for our wedding.
Aretha: This again, Michael? What’s wrong with you?
A loaded question, considering they both knew the answer to it.
The sheikh was no fool. Neither of them had been virgins when they first slept together, and he knew that Aretha continued to play around even now. But Aretha also knew that once they spoke of vows, Mik'hail meant for both of them to honor it, and between the two of them, it appeared Aretha was less prepared to handle a monogamous future.
The sheikh was about to command Aretha to come back to the palace first thing tomorrow when he heard Aurora cry out.
“What is it?” Mik'hail was by her side in a second.
Aurora shook her head quickly when the sheikh started to kneel. “No, don’t, you’ll get yourself dirty—-”
A silly protest, which the sheikh naturally ignored as he crouched down and gently reached for her hand. "What happened?"
"It's my fault," she confessed sheepishly, "for being an idiot. I thought I had cut off all the thorns when I pulled the rose out.” She pointed to her index finger, which had a speck of blood in it.
He loathed the sight – there was something about knowing she was hurt that did not sit well with the sheikh at all. Without thinking, he reached for her finger and brought it to his lips. He licked the blood away—-
Aurora said faintly, “Your Highness?”
Fuck.
What the fuck was he doing, with another girl’s finger in his mouth – a girl who also happened to be his intended’s younger sister?
He released her hand right away and bit out an apology.
"It's fine." Aurora's tone was a little too cheerful, her cheeks a flaming shade of red. "You thought to kiss it better because you still think of me as a child." She made a face. "But just to be clear, akh: I'm not a child."
No, she damn well wasn't, and that was the fucking problem. She was eighteen, an adult in the eyes of law, and that meant she was old enough to have consensual sex if she wanted to.
And goddammit, he wanted that.
Aurora was staring at him oddly. "Why do you look so angry?"
Because I want to fuck you, and I can't.
But since he couldn't say that, he racked his mind for a way to distract her. "Briar," Mik'hail heard himself say finally.
She blinked up at him in bemusement. “Briar?”
“You remind me of the fairy tale,” the sheikh heard himself say, “the girl who pricked her finger with a needle. That Briar.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh. Sleeping Beauty.”
He watched her lick her wounded finger absently as she spoke, and the sight had him thinking of what else she could lick. Fuck. She was so damn close, so goddamn close that he had to tightly clench his fists against the urge to yank her down so he could feed her mouth with his cock.
"I like it," Aurora said after a moment.
When she made a move to stand, the sheikh swiftly rose to her feet and offered his hand to help her up. "You are done for the day then?" Mik'hail asked.
"If you don't mind me leaving first?"
"Of course."
"I'm bad at handling pain," Aurora admitted with a grimace. "This tiny prick alone makes me want to cry."
If that were the case, then she might end up fainting once his cock claimed her virginal cunt.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
He managed a brief smile and nod as Aurora waved to him before leaving, but as soon as she was gone, the sheikh didn't waste time sending another text to Aretha.
Mik'hail: If you still want the right to wear the crown of Layla, I want you back in the kingdom tomorrow. We will set a date then.
But tomorrow came and went, and Aretha didn't return. The car that bore the future queen and her parents had met an accident, falling over treacherous cliffs before crashing into the sea.
Aretha's body was never found.
****
I hope you enjoyed this book! I’m keeping my Author’s Note short for now since I’m already working on another sheikh book. It’s part of a series, and if you haven’t read it yet then you might want to check out My Arabian Billionaire.
In the meantime, flip to the next page for excerpts of other books I have available in Kindle Unlimited.
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