Bound to the Sheikh

By Carol Marinelli

Sheikh Ashim Al Raquar, Crown Prince of Alzaquan, knows he must return to his country and leave his playboy reputation far behind him. It will be a wild journey home, though—he intends to party on his yacht right to the edge of the desert. And then he meets Emily, a corporate flight attendant who’s in the south of France hoping to find herself after years of taking care of her husband.

A sensual, charismatic lover with a reputed dark edge to his bedroom skills is the very last thing Emily needs.

Or is it the first?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tule Publishing
• Release date: May 22, 2015
• ISBN: 9781942240709

Carol Marinelli

Carol Marinelli recently filled in a form asking for her job title. Thrilled to be able to put down her answer, she put writer. Then it asked what Carol did for relaxation and she put down the truth – writing. The third question asked for her hobbies. Well, not wanting to look obsessed she crossed the fingers on her hand and answered swimming but, given that the chlorine in the pool does terrible things to her highlights – I’m sure you can guess the real answer.

Book preview

Bound to the Sheikh

An International Bad Boys Novella

Carol Marinelli

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B

ound to the Sheikh

Copyright © 2015 Carol Marinelli

Smashwords Edition

The Tule Publishing Group, LLC

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

ISBN: 978-1-942240-70-9

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Prologue

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

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Epilogue

Preview from Born to be Bad

The International Bad Boy Series

About the Author

P

rologue

He had fought hard for his decade of freedom.

And now, Ashim knew, it was time to make good on his end of the deal.

Sheikh Ashim Al Raquar, Crown Prince of Alzaquan, had, at the age of twenty, refused to marry. It hadn’t just been that he felt too young for such a commitment, his potential brides had all been very young, too. The women deemed suitable to be his bride had also been young. To his father, King Oman’s disapproval, he had negotiated a decade of freedom.

During this time, Ashim worked hard, meeting with foreign dignitaries, deepening international relationships, and he often returned to the land that he loved on official business.

But, yes, away from Alzaquan he partied hard, too.

Thirty years of age had seemed a long way off when the deal had been made.

Now it was here.

Maybe that was why he had hit the nightlife in Cannes so hard—to indulge in a string of decadent flings before duty called him home.

Ashim had arrived back on his yacht in the early hours of the morning, more than a little worse for wear, but the call he had taken from his father, the king, telling him that the plane had been booked to collect himself and his errant brother Khalid had quickly sobered him.

I’ll make my own way home, had been Ashim’s curt response.

There was no love lost between he and his father.

Ashim’s mother had died when Khalid was born and there had been no affection or engagement either in the palace or to the people of Alzaquan since then.

Now he stood on the deck of his luxurious yacht and looked, not to the shoreline, but out to the Mediterranean ocean.

At midday he would set sail for Monte Carlo, then Rome followed by Palermo. With stopovers, it would take just over a fortnight to get to Alzaquan and, Ashim had decided, he would hit every club, every casino just to savor every last moment of freedom...

It was about more than freedom though. He had been born to be king and thus raised as such. Ashim’s childhood had been spent being schooled by the elders as to the histories and traditions of Alzaquan. His holidays had been spent in the desert, learning from the land. His had been a cruel and harsh upbringing.

Ashim was a born and bred leader.

So much so, that he could not stand to live under his father’s ancient rules.

Ashim had plans for his country and people and, despite fierce opposition from his father, he was already implementing some of them. His engineering degree meant he consulted on infrastructure and now the main city of Alzaquan was a luxurious metropolis—a successful marriage of ancient and modern had been achieved, despite his father and the elders forebodings.

He looked up to the sky and saw a Gulfstream jet coming into land and he watched its smooth, silver progress and the slight tip to the left as it made its final approach. It was a plane that celebrities often favored and there were plenty here in Cannes for the film festival. The hotels and restaurants were teeming with the rich, beautiful and successful, and Ashim had run more than a little wild.

It was not over yet.

He turned and looked to the shore. A huge marquee was being set up on the beach for a concert tonight and a grand piano was being lowered onto a stage.

Why would he leave now, Ashim thought?

Monte Carlo could wait.

Rome could wait.

Palermo could wait.

He would have one more night here.

Yes, he would have one more wild, reckless night, here in Cannes, Ashim decided, before he commenced the journey home.

C

hapter One

"Just like old times," Emily said as Cathy came into the galley.

Ten years ago they had completed their flight crew training together and as twenty-year-olds had flown from London to the South of France and back many times together.

Their lives and careers had taken different paths but they had remained loose friends. Nine months ago, ready to return to work after the death of her husband, Emily had contacted her friend. Cathy now worked for an acclaimed private jet operator and Emily had wanted to know more about becoming a freelance corporate flight attendant.

For the first time in almost a decade they were, for today, working together again.

Not quite like old times, Cathy said pulling out some champagne as Emily juiced organic blood red oranges. It was orange juice from a carton back then.

They both smiled as they remembered those packed economy flights of yesteryear. Now, as corporate flight attendants, they served only the best of the best.

Emily loved her job. She had enjoyed the commercial world and having a roster had suited her at the time. Now though, she could be called on at an hour’s notice to fly, other times she had work booked weeks in advance. She loved the variety and that no two fights were ever the same.

Emily’s uniforms were always ready and after several months doing this job she was very used to a taxi ride to the airport and liaising with corporate caterers on the way.

Some clients she would personally shop and cook meals for, others flew with their own chef.

Yes, it was the variety and unpredictability of her work that Emily loved.

Today, Ravel, a famous actress and her director husband, Gene, were flying to Cannes for the film festival. With them were three children and various nannies and assistants and so a bigger crew had been hired for the short flight.

Ravel and Gene couldn’t seem to hold onto regular staff and so the private jet operator was often called upon to help cover staff shortages for them.

Any plans in Cannes? Cathy asked.

None. Emily shook her head.

Well, you do now.

Emily frowned as Cathy went into their locker and pulled out an envelope and handed it to her.

Happy Birthday.

My birthday’s months away.

Well, we might not fly with each other again for ages. When I heard that I was working with you... open it.

Emily peeled open the envelope and took out a heavy cream card with silver embossed writing.

A ticket to see Blaze?

Two tickets, Cathy said, You and I are going out tonight. And these aren’t just any old tickets; you don’t want to know what I had to do to get these.

No, I don’t! Emily grinned because unlike Emily who was a touch shy, Cathy ran wild.

It’s an exclusive, invitation only event on the beach. Fine dining...

I don’t think so, Emily interrupted and tried to hand the envelope back.

"Just like old times, Cathy said but with an edge to her voice. You’re not engaged and saving up for a deposit now."

Cathy...

I’m serious. You never came out with us all back then and it was the same when you were married.

That was below the belt! Stephen, Emily’s husband, had been in a serious accident on their honeymoon. I was hardly going to be kicking up my heels. Emily said but Cathy would not be swayed.

Look, I know how hard things have been for you...

Please. Emily could feel the sting of tears behind her eyes. Not now.

Yes, now. Cathy insisted. Emily, Stephen has been dead for a year and while I know you must miss him terribly—

Don’t, Emily said. Don’t tell me you know how I feel because you don’t. She tossed the invitations down on the bench and Cathy blinked as Emily fixed her with a glare. Leave it. Okay? Emily warned, grateful when she heard Clinton, the pilot come into the galley.

All ready?

We are. Emily nodded.

Okay, so who’s coming with me to greet them?

I’ll go, Cathy said and took off her apron and pulled on her jacket to go and greet the passengers and escort them to the plane, leaving Emily to make the final preparations. Just a dash of OJ in Ravel’s bucks fizz, Cathy said and Emily nodded.

Got it.

Please. Cathy did not leave it there. Just think about coming tonight, Emily.

Emily took off her apron and put on her jacket and checked her reflection. Her grey suit was spotless and she rearranged her cream cowl neck top. She was quite curvy, even her face was round. Her dark blonde hair was neatly pinned up and her makeup was subtle and brought out the blue in her eyes.

She looked a little younger than her thirty years but felt a whole lot older.

As she topped up her lip gloss, Emily caught sight of the wedding and engagement ring that she still wore.

Bloody Cathy, Emily