The Sheikh’s Sham Engagement (The Safar Sheikhs 3)

“Wow. Okay. So you’re both hopeless.”

“Not hopeless. Just…older,” Fatim said.

“Clearly. The Over-Thirty Club,” Nasser teased. “And just for your information, when my time comes to fulfill this ancient law, it won’t be for love. I’ll be divorced before I’m thirty-one. Believe it. I don’t do long term, because it never works out for me. I need to stick to short-term projects in all senses. Which is why this international school needs to work out.”

Fatim fingered the end of a knife, and the room fell silent.

“Well,” Amad began after a few moments, “there is one very clear path to ensuring the school works out.”

A tiny pit of dread formed in his belly, but Nasser couldn’t figure out why. “What’s that?”

Amad sent him the most mischievous older brother grin he’d ever seen. “Marry Willow.”

5

Willow clutched the clipboard to her chest as she began another walk-through of the school site. She and Nasser had come for their second visit, a week and a half after their first. She hoped and feared, in equal measures, that this visit would end up like the first.

No no no. You do not need to sleep with him again. The condom broke the first time. Bad omen. Just stop.

Except it was so hard to just stop around Nasser. Any time he looked at her or joked with her, she fell headfirst into the past. Even when she knew how wrong it was. How dangerous. Part of her wondered if he’d spent even half as much time thinking about her this past week and a half as she’d thought about him.

“It’s looking good out here,” Willow murmured as they stepped through the opening that would eventually be the front doors. There were proper walls now, with holes left for doors and windows. It was starting to resemble a place of learning. She glanced over at Nasser, who had paused in the foyer, looking out the hole of a future window. The afternoon sun spilled in, bathing him in white light, glinting off his tan skin so that he looked otherworldly. When he turned to her, she gasped.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah. Fine.” She swallowed her heart back into her body and tucked some brown hair behind her ears. “I was just thinking I hope I’m here to see the school finished.”

Nasser frowned. She’d been waiting for him to bring up the visa issue, but she hadn’t put much stock in his fight for her legality. Probably he was hoping she’d be deported. Or that she’d just quietly disappear out of his life for a second time.

“About that.” Nasser paused in the sunlight, burying his hands in his pockets. “I’ve looked into it, and it turns out that you raised red flags by submitting for your work visa on the same day you received your tourist visa.”

Willow’s mouth parted. Shit. She’d thought she was being proactive by applying for the visa on the same day as her arrival. Not screwing herself over. “Are you serious? Just because I plan ahead—?”

“Regardless of how it sounds, that’s the way it is. There’s no getting around it.” Nasser ran a finger over his bottom lip as he looked out of the window. “And believe me, I tried to pull strings.”

This sounded like a whole lot of bad news. She deflated. “So is there no hope?”

“There’s one last option.” Nasser straightened and then finally swung his gaze to meet hers. “We can get married.”

The sunlight glinted off the perfectly-managed scruff of his face as his nearly-black gaze consumed her. She couldn’t tell if he was the star of her dirtiest fantasy or if he was simply a crazy person. Get married? She’d thought about that plenty with him, earlier in her life, but now it just seemed like a cruel joke.

“Very funny,” she spat as she crossed her arms, finally deciding that this was a joke. “You gave me an ultimatum once before. I get it.”

Nasser’s eyes narrowed. “I’m serious. This isn’t an ultimatum just to be an asshole. This is the only logical solution to your problem. The only way to keep this school on track. You need a visa, don’t you? Or else you’ll have to leave. Well, getting married to a shei

kh will grant you an unlimited visa. Problem solved.”

Willow stewed over his words while she stared past him at the brilliant white of the sandy road beyond. There had to be another way. Some loophole that only a sheikh could find. They were royalty, for God’s sake. Couldn’t he start acting like it?

“I don’t know why you can’t just overturn the stupid law and let me stay here,” she finally spat.

Nasser laughed. “I’m not the king, you know. I’m a lowly prince. Besides, my brother isn’t in the business of overturning laws just to suit himself. He’s as beholden as anyone to the laws of our country. Believe me, the whole family has suffered for it.”

“And you couldn’t sweet talk your way past whatever government official?” she asked.

“I was as convincing as ever,” Nasser replied.

“Maybe you’re not as charming as you think, then,” Willow snapped.