Chosen as the Sheikh's Royal Bride

Omar felt heartsick. He’d been a fool to ever let his heart and body make the choice. He should have let his brain decide whom he would marry, all along.

“Your Highness!”

Looking up, Omar saw one of the palace maids, Rayah, standing in the doorway of the council chamber. He motioned her forward. “What is it?”

“It’s your betrothed, sire,” the girl said. “She begs you to come to her in the tower. She says it’s a matter of life and death!”

So it had already come to this. Omar’s eyes narrowed. He’d thought Beth would wait before she tried to manipulate him again. She truly must think her power over him had no bounds.

Tonight, he would show her the error of that belief.

Beth shook with anxiety, pacing back and forth across the queen’s bedchamber. She’d already tried twice to get past the guards, to no avail. When she’d shrieked at them about her sister and waved the phone in their faces, they’d simply taken the phone from her. Finally, in desperation, she’d sent Rayah to the king.

“Why did you summon me?” Omar demanded coldly behind her, and in spite of everything, her heart raced as she whirled to face him.

“What have you done to my sister?”

He didn’t even pretend not to understand. “What was necessary.”

“If you’ve touched a hair of her head—”

“You think I would hurt her?” Omar stalked forward in his sheikh’s robes, his expression dark. He’d showered and changed, and looked handsome and powerful. As if the events of the day hadn’t affected him at all.

She held her ground, glaring at him. “I was talking to her when your thugs grabbed her!”

He held up her phone. “Who else have you called?”

“No one—who cares about the stupid phone?” she nearly shrieked. “What have you done with my sister?”

“She’s taking a long vacation.”

Beth sucked in her breath. “A long vacation? Is that a euphemism?” She gripped her hands into fists. “Like swimming with the fishes or pushing up daisies? You bastard—”

“Calm yourself.” He looked down at her coldly. “A vacation means a vacation. She’ll spend a few weeks on my private island in the Caribbean, drinking piña coladas and sunning herself on the beach.”

Beth blinked, dropping her fists. “What?”

“Until we know if you’re pregnant, you will continue to play the part of Dr. Farraday. Which means the ruse cannot be discovered, as it surely would have been, had she remained longer in the lab. It’s a miracle it wasn’t discovered before now.”

That was certainly true. Biting her lip, she said suspiciously, “Are you telling the truth?”

“I’m not the liar

between us.” Narrowing his eyes, he held up her phone. “Can I trust you with this?”

“Who would I call?”

“A newspaper outlet, to sell your story? The American embassy, to claim you’re being held against your will?”

“It’s not a claim, it’s a fact!”

His dark eyes burned through her. “Can I trust you to help me undo the damage you’ve done—to my country? To me?”

Beth hesitated, then said in a small voice, “I want to. But how?”

Omar looked down at her, his eyes cold. “The banquet begins in an hour, and you are not ready. Rayah said she filled a bath for you. Why are you not in it?”

“Seriously?” She lifted her chin. “Your nobles hate me. Your vizier wants to throw me in prison. There’s no way me going to the stupid banquet will help anything. I’m not going!”