The Sheikh’s Wife Arrangement (The Safar Sheikhs 1)

Fatim nodded, leaning back in his chair. His gaze darted over the surface of his desk. Calla found the rest of her confidence and continued speaking.

“Furthermore, I’ll need at least fifteen hours per week to continue working on my fashion designs for the show,” she said. “Days of the week are flexible; I’m sure that will be based around your schedule. But that’s non-negotiable.”

Fatim squinted at the surface of his desk now. Like maybe he was negotiating with that instead of her. “I think that’s fine,” he said at last. He gave her a winning smile that immediately set her at ease. “And I appreciate you showing up ready to negotiate.”

Calla blinked a few times, pleased with herself. You did it.

But now she was officially a nanny. Maybe this was what she got for wishing she could be closer to the king. He invited her into his inner circle—just not at all in the way she’d secretly fantasized about.

4

Several days later, Fatim felt like he’d been pacing his office from sunrise to sunset. And in a way he had been. He hadn’t slept a wink. Yaret had returned to deliver the final blow yesterday: not only was the law valid, but the news had leaked. Everyone knew about this ancient decree, and it seemed the entire tribal nation of Amatbah had sat up and taken notice overnight.

The pressure was on. Fatim needed to make a decision. Fast.

His laptop dinged with an incoming video call. Amad, the middle brother, returning his desperate slew of calls from earlier that day. Fatim picked up on the second ring.

“Brother. There you are.” Fatim crumpled into his desk chair.

“I’m here.” Amad was in London for a global technology summit. He spent most of his time abroad, so video calls constituted the bulk of their brotherhood anymore. “What’s going on? Your message sounded urgent.”

Fatim rubbed at his forehead. “Yes. This would be considered urgent.” Fatim gave him an executive summary of the ancient law destined to change Fatim’s life in less than two weeks. Complete with the infuriating fact that even though Fatim had been married once, he wasn’t married now.

“God help me, brother, I’m not getting married a second time,” Fatim said.

Amad was quiet for a moment before letting out a whoosh of a sigh. “Sounds like you’re going to have to.”

Fatim scowled. That was precisely what he didn’t want to hear. “I thought you’d have some sort of idea for me to sidestep this.”

“Sidestep your duty to your tribe and nation?” Amad scoffed as he fiddled with an expensive looking watch. He stepped out of view from the camera for a moment, leaving Fatim an unobstructed view of his brother’s luxury hotel room. “That’s not the Fatim I know.”

Amad’s jab hurt more than Fatim wanted to admit. Because it was true—Fatim wasn’t one to shirk his duties. But this duty seemed wildly outdated and unnecessary.

“I thought you might be supportive of a surprise decree upheaval,” Fatim said. “Something modern and progressive.”

“Father is turning in his grave,” Amad remarked coolly. “I can’t believe you even said that.”

Fatim sighed. If his suggestion could make even his detached, modern-world brother think he was out of line, then Fatim had gone too far.

“I wasn’t serious,” Fatim fibbed.

“I think you should see this as an opportunity,” Amad said, his face filling the camera once more, his hair freshly combed and slicked down. “An opportunity that you desperately need.”

Fatim frowned. “I don’t follow.”

“You’ve been doing everything on your own for too many years. Running the nation, running the palace, overseeing every last detail. A partner would be good for you.”

“You remember our father, correct?” Fatim shot back. “How he completely dissolved once his partner was no longer? Do you think he was a good father to us? A good ruler, once Mother passed?”

Amad sighed tersely. “Father was better in all respects when he was married, yes, but you are not him.”

“It never lasts,” Fatim went on, finally able to voice the deepest, most roiling part of his objection to all of this. “Having a partner might be fine for a while, but the feelings don’t last. We saw it with our parents. I even lived it with my wife. I thought it might turn into romance, but after the one-year mark, it just dissolved into complacency. Besides, I fulfilled my duty with her. I produced children. Adding in another wife would only be a distraction.”

Amad smirked into the camera but didn’t say anything. Fatim frowned. “What?”

“Your argument is solid, brother,” Amad said, “But with one fatal flaw.”

“What’s that?”