The Desert Sheikh (Books 1, 2 and 3 of The Desert Sheikh Romance Trilogy)

By Katheryn Lane

This is the full Desert Sheikh Trilogy, containing Books 1, 2 and 3
Book 1: Kidnapped By The Sheikh
Book 2: Married To The Sheikh
Book 3: The Sheikh’s Son

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Book 1: Kidnapped By The Sheikh

Sheikh Akbar needs a hostage.
Sarah Greenwich needs to escape.
But sometimes what you need is not what you want.

When a powerful sheikh kidnaps Dr. Sarah Greenwich, she leads him to believe that she is the wife of the British ambassador, but how long will she be able to keep up the deception and what will happen to her when the sheikh finds out that she has been lying to him?

Sarah is about to discover that the desert is an exotic wilderness, where anything can happen...

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Book 2: Married To The Sheikh

When Sarah Greenwich marries Sheikh Akbar, her life is full of wedded bliss in the arms of a loving, passionate man. However, not everyone shares her happiness and Sarah soon discovers that when you’re married to a powerful warlord, problems can come from the most unexpected sources.

Can love overcome the obstacles that are placed in front of it?

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Book 3: The Sheikh’s Son

When Sheikh Akbar manages to track down his long-lost wife, he also discovers the one other thing that he has always wanted: a son. However, reclaiming what he wants and loves is not as easy as he first thinks.

Who will win in this renewed battle of wills and what lengths will Akbar go to in order to keep his child?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Katheryn Lane
• Release date: Jan 25, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301744466

Katheryn Lane

I’m a wife, teacher, author and mother of two boisterous boys, so most of my days are taken up with finding lost school shoes, getting stuck in traffic and wondering why I always join the queue that doesn’t move in the supermarket. However, I try to forget these daily problems (and the fact that I burnt the toast again this morning) by losing myself in a good book and writing novels that give readers a break from everyday life.Open one of my books and escape on an adventure to an exotic location, because it’s easier to buy a book than it is to book an air ticket.Have a break, read a book!

Book preview

KIDNAPPED BY THE SHEIKH

Sheikh Akbar needs a hostage.

Sarah Greenwich needs to escape.

But sometimes what you need is not what you want.

When a powerful sheikh kidnaps Dr. Sarah Greenwich, she leads him to believe that she is the wife of the British ambassador, but how long will she be able to keep up the deception and what will happen to her when the sheikh finds out that she has been lying to him?

Sarah is about to discover that the desert is an exotic wilderness, where anything can happen…

Chapter 1

Get out of the car, now! the man yelled through the thick glass of the British ambassador’s car.

What are we going to do? the driver, Hussein, asked. If these bandits take us, they’ll almost certainly kill me.

But they won’t kill me, will they? And I think it’s me they want, replied Sarah, the young blonde woman who sat in the back of the car. The man outside banged his rifle against the passenger window and called out again for both of them to get out.

The driver started reciting his prayers, asking God to save him.

Hussein, it’s going to be okay, the woman tried to reassure him.

No, madam, it is not! I have a family back in Pakistan. If I die, what will become of them?

Hussein, open this window and let me talk to them. I’m sure I can sort this out, Sarah said with a lot more assurance in her voice than she really felt.

The driver pushed a button next to his seat and the passenger window came down. A sudden rush of hot, dusty air blew into the car.

Who are you? she asked slowly and clearly.

I am Sheikh Akbar Al-Zafir. I rule over Sakara.

Sarah thought about this for a minute. Sakara was a wilderness in the south of the country. It was the most remote part of the entire Arabian Peninsula, an area that Westerners did not travel to. Even the most intrepid journalist shielded away from going there.

She looked at the sheikh. He was wearing traditional tribal clothes of baggy cotton trousers and a loose shirt with a broad sash around the waist. Tucked into the sash was a large, curved dagger and in his hand was an old AK-47 rifle. Around his head was a red and white patterned strip of cloth that had been wound around many times. His clothes had a rough, homespun look about them and were well-worn; however, they were in much better condition than the clothes of the other men standing next to him. They were wearing garments that were little better than rags.

What do you want, Sheikh Akbar Al-Zafir? There was no harm in trying to show a little respect and it seemed to work. The man smiled at her in a way that was almost royal.

Please, get out of the car. You will come with us.

Why? she asked again, only this time she said it in both English and Arabic. The men looked surprised, though she was not sure whether it was because of the question, or because she was one of the few foreigners in the country that spoke Arabic.

We want you because once we have you, the British ambassador will pay me a handsome sum of money to get his wife back.

So the men thought that she was the British ambassador’s wife and wanted to take her hostage. Similar kidnappings had happened before in Yazan, a country that was ruled by a series of warlords who ignored the weak, ineffective government in the capital and saw kidnapping influential people as an easy source of income. Only a month ago, a Dutch businessman’s teenage daughter had been taken, but once her father paid her captors a few thousand dollars, she was returned unharmed. The embassies warned their citizens to avoid all travel outside the capital. However, sometimes travel was unavoidable.

I am on my way to collect an important person from the airport. I would be grateful if you could let me continue my journey, Sarah said, trying to contain the panic that was rising in her throat.

Your driver can get them. You are coming with us, the sheikh replied.

At least they would let Hussein go. She leaned forward to speak to him in a low voice. Hussein, drive to the airport, collect Dr. Roberts when he arrives from New York, and then drive back to the British Embassy and tell them what has happened.

Madam! You must not go with these men. What will they do to you?

They won’t dare touch the wife of the British ambassador, she said.

But you’re not Lady Amanda Bolton.

Not so loud! We don’t have any other choice. If you try to drive off, they will shoot at the car and we could both die.

This is the ambassador’s car. Property of the British government. It is completely bulletproof!

Including the tyres? Sarah asked.

The driver shook his head.

If they shoot the tyres, they’ll capture the pair of us. This way, at least you can escape and tell someone what’s happened. Now, Hussein, you must pretend that I am the ambassador’s wife, okay?

Lady Amanda Bolton, Hussein said loudly from the driver’s seat, I will tell your beloved husband, Sir Humphrey Bolton, of your dire predicament. He then released the lock on the passenger door. Sarah opened it and stepped out.

Lady Bolton, I’m glad you understand the situation and have agreed to come peacefully, the sheikh said.

She looked into his large brown eyes. If you dare to lay a finger on me, you will be answerable to the British government for your actions.

Of course. The sheikh bowed low and then held out his hand to assist her with getting into his Jeep. She ignored his offer of help and hoisted herself up into the passenger seat. Through the dirty windscreen of the vehicle, she watched Hussein drive away in the ambassador’s car, the British flag fluttering regally at the front.

It took a few minutes for the sheikh’s men to organise themselves and climb into the back of the open Jeep, but once they were settled, the sheikh took off his gun and gave it to one of them. He then got into the driver’s seat and started the engine. Before he put it into gear, he turned and smiled at his passenger.

Don’t worry, Lady Bolton. I will treat you as my honoured guest. Please see this as an excursion into a part of Yazan that few foreigners ever have the opportunity to visit.

She hoped that as long as he thought that she was the ambassador’s wife, she would be safe. However, she wasn’t Lady Amanda Bolton; she was Dr. Sarah Greenwich from the Women’s Hospital in the capital. As they started out on the long drive through the desert to the wastelands of Sakara, she wondered what would happen to her when Sheikh Akbar found out.

Chapter 2

Please, step this way. The sheikh led her towards a large group of tents made of coarse black camel hair in the middle of a vast expanse of desert. Tethered next to the tents were a group of camels and several fine-looking horses. Sarah knew how to ride a horse, but even if she managed to get hold of one, or the keys to the Jeep, she had no idea where she was, or how to get back to the city.

They had been travelling for more than three hours through the desert and after the first thirty minutes, the sheikh had driven the Jeep off the road and headed out across an empty expanse of land. Initially, Sarah had tried hard to focus on possible landmarks so she could orientate herself and work out where she was. However, after the first hour, she became completely lost and knew that she would never be able to find her way back again on her own without a guide. As she stepped out of the Jeep, she knew that she was walking into what would be her new home for the foreseeable future, or at least until the embassy or the Women’s Hospital managed to negotiate her release.

As well as being scared, Sarah was also exhausted. Without air conditioning in the Jeep, hot dusty air had blown through the windows so that she was now covered in a fine layer of sand. She desperately wanted a shower, but there was no sign of even the most basic sanitary provisions in this Bedouin encampment. However, near the camels was a long bank of palm trees. Their leaves looked like clusters of needles stabbing the bright white sky around them. Sarah wondered whether there was some kind of well or pool of water behind them.

As my honoured guest, you will stay here. The sheikh gestured towards one of the larger tents. Girl, come! he called out.

A woman came rushing out of one of the tents. She was almost fully veiled, but Sarah could see her eyes and guessed that she was a teenager, or a young woman. The woman bowed down in front of the sheikh and kept her eyes focused on the ground. He spoke to her for several minutes, but he was so quiet that Sarah couldn’t hear what he was saying. He then turned to Sarah and said, Lady Amanda, this is my niece. She will look after you. If you need anything, please tell her. He touched his forehead and then his broad chest to salaam Sarah, before walking off in the opposite direction.

Sarah followed the woman into her tent. It was hung with heavy tapestries and on the floor were ornate carpets. Sarah had been in the country long enough and knew enough about Arab culture to remove her shoes before walking in. Her feet were covered in dirt from the journey; however, an older woman, possibly of African descent, came forward with a bowl of water. She gestured to Sarah to sit so she could wash her feet. Once the serving woman had finished, the sheikh’s niece invited her into the heart of the tent for some food.

Sarah hadn’t eaten since breakfast and didn’t realise how hungry she was until she saw the spread that was laid out in front of her, which consisted of feta cheese, freshly baked flat bread, hummus, and tabouleh, a finely chopped salad of parsley garnished with tomatoes. She knew that if she was going to get through her stay here, she had to eat and keep up her strength.

Once she finished, Sarah sat back on one of the heavily embroidered cushions and drank a glass of very sweet mint tea. The African woman cleared away some of the dishes and went outside with them. The other woman, the sheikh’s niece who had brought her into the tent, sat silently in the corner. She had taken off her face veil and Sarah could see that her estimation of the girl’s age was correct. She was an attractive teenage girl with thick black hair and soft, delicate features. Sarah tried to talk to her.

Thank you for the food. My name is Sa— Sarah stopped just in time and corrected her error. My name is Lady Amanda Bolton. Can I ask you your name?

My name is Minna. I am the daughter of Sheikh Omar Al-Zafir, she replied, looking up for the first time. The girl was obviously proud of her lineage, so Sarah tried to look suitably impressed.

It is a pleasure to meet you, Minna. I hope that God blesses you and your family, Sarah said, trying to observe Arabic etiquette. It was possible that she would be there several weeks until the British Embassy negotiated her release and there was no point in alienating this girl, who probably had nothing to do with her capture.

God has cursed my family, Minna said.

This wasn’t the reply that Sarah had been expecting at all. Why do you say that? she asked.

My mother died before she could bear any sons and then my father died last month, leaving me alone.

But you have Sheikh Akbar to look after you, don’t you? Sarah knew that in a country like Yazan, a woman without a family was extremely vulnerable. Hopefully, this girl’s relatives had not exploited her situation.

Yes. I am very lucky. He is my father’s brother and he is now the leader of our people. I don’t have any parents, but he has honoured my father’s wishes and arranged for me to be married.

That’s good. I hope you’ll be blessed with many children, Sarah replied, trying to observe the girl’s cultural customs. Do you have a wedding date yet? she asked.

Yes, I’m to be married in a few weeks. That’s why you’re here. Your ransom will pay for my wedding. My uncle is a good man. He has promised me that he’ll honour the bride price my father agreed to before he died.

So that was why they’d kidnapped Sarah, or rather, the British ambassador’s wife; they needed money to pay for a wedding. She wondered how much they were thinking of asking for as a ransom—probably several thousand dollars. Although the embassy wouldn’t agree to pay it, the hospital where she worked would, and then she would be free. Until then, as long as they thought she was the ambassador’s wife, she hoped she would be safe and they would treat her well.Sarah tried to remind herself that this was not a terrorist attack, but an age-old tradition of capture and release that had probably been practised in this region for hundreds of years. All she had to do was play along with the game until the hospital gave the necessary money to the sheikh.

Please, have some more tea, Minna offered.

The African woman, who seemed to be Minna’s servant, poured out more tea. At least Sarah presumed that the woman was a servant; she might be a slave. Slavery was only abolished in the 1960s in the Arabian Peninsula, but it continued for much longer in some of the more remote parts, such as the area where Sarah now was. She asked the woman her name. Both the woman and Minna looked shocked. Sarah guessed that they were surprised that she had spoken directly to the servant.

Onnab, the woman said in a voice that was barely more than a whisper.

Thank you, Onnab, Sarah replied.

Minna, clearly offended by this, told Onnab to get out of the tent and get on with some work.

I am marrying a very fine man, Minna asserted once Onnab left.

Have you met him yet? Sarah knew that in traditional, local communities it was quite possible that the bride would only meet her husband for the first time on her wedding day.

Yes, we knew each other as children, though of course I haven’t seen him since I became a woman. He comes from an excellent family.

And who is his family? Sarah asked. The woman clearly wanted to talk about her upcoming marriage, which was normal for any bride-to-be wherever they came from.

"His father was the

Reviews for The Desert Sheikh (Books 1, 2 and 3 of The Desert Sheikh Romance Trilogy)

[Tami Hughes · Rating: 1 out of 5 stars]

No woman especially a doctor would go back to a man like this especially after 9 years. He was willing to marry another woman so what is to stop him from doing it again. This book was plain stupid.