The Sheikh's Convenient Virgin

The Sheikh's Convenient Virgin
Trish Morey

Sheikh Tajik al Zayed bin Aman needs a convenient bride, and custom demands that she must be pure.So when he first sees Morgan Fielding and is intrigued by her straitlaced style, an idea begins to form. . . . Morgan doesn't understand why Tajik is pursuing her–such a virile man could have any woman he desires!But once she arrives in Tajik's desert kingdom, he announces he will take her as his wife–and bedding her is only the beginning!

Trish Morey

THE SHEIKH’S CONVENIENT VIRGIN

To Jacqui, Steph, Ellen and Claire

Thanks for all the times you’ve had to wait

for me to finish a sentence, a paragraph or a

chapter before you could get my attention.

And thanks for all the times you had to do

lots of extra stuff because I was on deadline

and the house would have collapsed in a heap

otherwise.

Not to mention all the times you forgave me for

forgetting to pick you up from wherever. (Really

sorry about those!)

But, most of all, thank you all for being your

totally gorgeous selves.

I am truly blessed.

All my love,

Mum xxxx

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

EPILOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

‘WHO’S the woman?’ With just three sharp words Sheikh Tajik al Zayed bin Aman cut off the tedious update being delivered by his secretary as he wandered closer to the window. It had been a long flight, and the stranger he’d just spied sitting near the pool was far more interesting than the latest exchange rate fluctuations of his Emirate’s currency. ‘What is she doing here?’

Kamil temporarily abandoned his recitation of numbers and followed his ruler’s gaze through the wall of windows and past the palm-lined lawns to the pool area beyond.

‘This is the one we employed as your mother’s companion after Fatima was taken ill. I sent word to you while you were in Paris for the oil summit…’ His secretary trailed off, suddenly hesitant, as if concerned he’d overstepped the mark in retaining a local woman to be Nobilah’s companion during their Gold Coast sojourn.

‘Ah, yes,’ Tajik said, recalling the case of appendicitis that had seen Fatima packed off to hospital for emergency surgery. ‘I just did not expect Nobilah’s new companion to be quite so young.’ Or quite so attractive. Even from this distance he could see her features were far from plain, her figure, even though demurely dressed from neck to ankle in light trousers and shirt, no chore to behold. ‘So why is she alone and not looking after my mother?’

As if on cue, Nobilah emerged from the poolhouse behind, the dark abaya she’d favoured since her husband had died swirling about her like a cloud as she walked. He watched the younger woman rise and then adjust the umbrella shading his mother from the Queensland sun as she settled herself into the chair alongside. Then the young woman sat back down, picking up a newspaper from a wrought-iron table sitting between them, her lips moving as she read aloud.

His mother laughed at something, and he could almost hear her musical chuckle. He couldn’t help but smile. It had been a tough year—for all of them—and it was good to see her laugh. Very soon he would hear it for himself. After the tense and at times heated negotiations of the past week he deserved it. And now they would have the last weeks of their summer break together.

‘I must go and let Nobilah know I have returned from Paris,’ he said over his shoulder. ‘Was there anything more, Kamil?’

His secretary cleared his throat. ‘As a matter of fact, Excellency, there is one more item I must bring to your attention…’

‘Can it wait? I am anxious to catch up with my mother.’

‘I think you will want to hear this, Excellency.’

Tajik looked around in surprise. His secretary knew him too well to keep him over some trifling matter when he was already taking his leave. He moved away from the window, his attention now fully on his secretary, the stranger all but dismissed from his mind. ‘Well, what is it?’

‘There have been murmurings from home…It appears Qasim has raised with the council of tribal leaders some concerns about the ascendancy…’

Tajik’s blood chilled at the news, but it was to Kamil that his ire was directed right now. ‘And you thought it more important to relate Jamalbad’s exchange rates than my cousin’s machinations behind the scenes?’

His secretary had the good sense to look nervous. ‘Reports have just come in,’ he said, bowing deferentially. ‘They have yet to been confirmed—’