The Sheikh’s Stubborn Employee: Qadir Sheikhs, #3

By Leslie North

Emily Baker is in a heap of trouble. Her beloved horse farm is struggling financially, and she's just found out her late father sold her favorite horse to a sheikh from a country she's never heard of. The buyer, Zaman Abdul-Rahman is sexy as all get-out, the sort of man who makes a fling with a sheikh seem like a good idea. But Emily isn't looking for romance, and certainly not with the overbearing alpha male who shows up to take away her beloved and pregnant horse, Riah. Emily refuses to let him until Zaman makes her a generous offer: he's taking Riah, but he'll also buy another horse and bring Emily to Qadir for six months to train it for an important race. Despite her hesitation, Emily knows the influx of cash will be enough to save the farm. Before she knows it, she's traveling to the tiny kingdom and being seduced, not only by this beautiful foreign land but by Zaman, who's just too gorgeous to resist. 

 

Zaman isn't the sort of man to fall for a woman, especially one with such a fierce streak of independence. But he can't help being wildly attracted to the beautiful American, and he secretly admires her strength and intelligence. Emily will only be in Qadir for six months, so what's the problem with giving into their searing passion for a short fling? After all, he's an expert at not growing too attached to anyone. This time, though, things are different. Emily is different. Maddeningly hard-headed. Thoroughly lovely. And…pregnant with his child. 

 

At the news, Zaman's world shifts dramatically. His protective instincts kick into high gear—and end up pushing Emily away. It soon becomes clear, though, that the only race he wants to win is the one for Emily's heart…

• Language: English
• Publisher: Leslie North
• Release date: Jun 7, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393811541

Book preview

1

I ’m off to ride, Em. Are you good here?

Emily’s younger sister, Charlotte, sat astride a gray colt named Majalun, Maj for short. He tossed his head in the golden afternoon light of late August, looking for all the world like he’d stepped out of Horse & Rider, and Emily couldn’t help but smile at the thought of having one of her family’s horses on the cover of that magazine.

They’d been there more than a few times in her father’s heyday. Not lately. Lately things had been…hard, to say the least. It kept her up nights, how hard things had been at Baker Farm.

Emily’s favorite horse, a bay mare named Riah, nuzzled her hand. We’re all right, she told her sister, though it half felt like she was telling herself, too. We’ll be all right.

What was that?

Charlotte sat tall and confident on Maj, her black riding helmet setting off her sandy hair. Emily put a hand to her own hair and shoved the loose strands back under her own baseball cap. We’ll be all right, she said, louder. To her sister. To the universe. See you for dinner.

Aye aye, cap’n. Charlotte shifted on Maj’s back, and the horse broke into an easy trot. Inside of a minute, they were on the edge of the pasture and headed for the low hills that were still miraculously part of Baker Farm. Emily’s throat went tight at the thought of how precarious things had been with her dad. He could have easily signed what they owned away. He’d done as much with some of the horses they’d bred before the sisters had realized what was going on. And by then…

Emily shook her head. It was eighty-five degrees and humid, but she could feel a thin curl of cool in the air. Soon the seasons would shift, and they’d be out of this cruel summer and into something new and better.

Come on, Riah. She kept a loose grip on Riah’s lead rope as they made their way out of the pasture over to a shady spot bounded by the horse barn, a simple fence, and a tall red maple. The grass grew thick and lush from daily watering. It was one of Emily’s favorite spots on the entire farm.

Riah needed a rubdown, and Emily needed to turn her brain off.

That was unlikely to happen.

Riah lowered her head to a patch of grass. Emily hitched her to a post her father had installed just for the purpose and went into the barn to grab a rubdown bucket. There were five of them dangling from hooks in the wall above a purpose-built sink, just inside the door of the barn. When her father had been a young man, he’d tried to think of everything. He’d tried to give everything its own place. He’d done well, for so many years. In his best days, he’d bought her mother a small pane of stained glass to go in the kitchen window. She loved the colors so much, but it was expensive, and the two of them had been frugal. He’d always sworn he’d buy her more, but he’d run out of time for that. They all had.

How’s that mare of yours? A pat on Emily’s shoulder made her straighten up. Marie, one of the longtime farmhands, stepped over to grab one of the other buckets. Uh, oh. You’ve got a storm cloud covering your face. Marie’s hair was more gray than dark, but she was strong and wiry and didn’t miss a trick. She spent most of her time mucking out stalls and corralling the teenagers Emily hired to help out.

Emily put a smile back on and blew a strand of hair off her nose. Just thinking.

Marie screwed up her lips. You’ve been doing too much of that lately.

I can’t help it, Emily said with a laugh. Someone’s got to hold down the fort.

We’re all here holding it down with you, insisted Marie. You don’t have to let it hunch your shoulders.

Emily stood up even taller. I’m not.

All right. Marie’s gaze lingered on Emily’s, the older woman’s steely eyes assessing. Need help with anything? Stalls are done, and I’m going to give Thunder a rubdown before I head home, but I can stay if you need me.

There were some things Emily needed. For one, she needed her comeback plan for the farm to succeed. Most of that hinged on Riah, who she’d bred from the family’s line of champion endurance horses, and then found the perfect stud to cover her after she’d proven herself in a few races. If everything went according to plan, Riah would put them back on the map. Emily grimaced. Back on the right part of the map, anyway. For now, they’d been exiled to Bad Deals Land. We’re good. We’re all good, Emily said.

Back out in the shade, Riah shook her mane and whinnied. You’re the best horse, Emily told her softly as she rubbed Riah’s neck with the curry comb. You’re going to be the comeback girl. Momma would be so proud. She swallowed a fleeting ache in her throat, a memory of her mother laughing with her head thrown back flashing through her mind, superimposed on the leaves of the red maple. The tree had been smaller the year her mother had been thrown from her horse and killed on impact, but the whisper of the wind in its leaves was still the same. Emily cleared her throat. She wouldn’t want me out here moping, not with a gorgeous mare like you, and all the—

Beautiful horse. The unfamiliar voice gave Emily a shock like an ice cube pressed to the back of her neck. She whirled toward the sound, dropping the brush in the process. The man’s dark eyes lit up. And a beautiful woman.

A hot blush spread across Emily’s cheeks at the speed of a brush fire and moved past the boundaries of her face, cascading over her shoulders and chest. Hot. She was hot, but he was hotter, in dark designer jeans and a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Dark hair, dark eyes, skin a deep bronze…a new awareness pulsed through her like a fever. Emily was a mess. Compared to this flawless prince of a man, she might as well be one of the feral cats that sometimes haunted the dark corners of their barn.

Well, he was on her property, and this was what she looked like. A fierce attraction swelled in her chest. You’re pretty beautiful yourself, she heard herself saying.

I dressed for the occasion. He glanced down at his outfit and looked back up at her with a smolder of a half-smile. But I much prefer your look.

She pretended to fluff her hair. Men fall all over themselves for the wrecked-by-work vibe.

I can see it. He stood up tall, crossing his arms easily over his chest. His full, perfect lips parted, a naughty spark in his eye—but then his expression changed. He cocked his head to the side, looking past Emily to the horse. This can’t be Riah.

The warm, sultry feeling in her chest fled as if she had been personally attacked by a cold front coming in off the hills. Emily took a quick step back. This guy was a total stranger. How could he know about Riah?

I don’t think— Approaching hoofbeats cut her off. Charlotte rode Maj across the pasture and through the gate, slowing only at the last second.

Hey. Her sister’s voice was filled with caution and edged with the clear air she’d been breathing out in the hills. Who’s this? Charlotte swung off Maj, reins in hand, and led him over to the fence.

Sheikh Zaman Abdul-Rahman, said the man, unfolding his arms and giving the slightest hint of a bow. It’s my pleasure to meet you.

Charlotte narrowed her eyes. You wouldn’t have anything to do with the black sedan parked in our drive, would you?

I would, Zaman said mildly. My driver is waiting, and my body man is—ah. Here. Another man, taller and built like a tank, jogged around the side of the barn.

Sheikh Zaman. He pressed a folder into Zaman’s hands.

Thank you. I’ll be all right.

The other man gave him a crisp nod and jogged away.

Zaman met Emily’s eyes, and a sensation like a ringing bell moved through her, invisible to everyone else. I’m here to see Cal Baker. I take it you two are his daughters.

Emily’s breath caught in her throat in a painful knot. She cleared it as gracefully as possible. Yes. I’m Emily, and this is Charlotte. Our father passed away two months ago. It was still so new and raw that it felt like swallowing a blade. So, that won’t be possible.

The remains of the smile fell from Zaman’s face, and he lifted a hand to his heart. I’m so sorry to hear that. I hope the sale will make things easier, though I can’t imagine how it would.

A beat passed before she could breathe. This wasn’t the first secret deal her father had made, and a twist of dread wound itself through her gut. What sale, Sheikh Zaman?

You may call me Zaman, he said with a sympathetic smile. I’m here to pick up Riah. I contracted to buy her from Cal three months ago.

No, you didn’t. A wild laugh bubbled up from the center of Emily’s chest. She reached up and put a hand on Riah’s neck, the warm coat beneath her palm steadying her. That’s not possible. Our father knew not to sell Riah. She’s my horse.

I assure you, it’s possible. Zaman opened the folder and took out a sheet of paper. He looked it over, then stepped forward and offered it to Emily. She took it with a sick, lurching feeling. "Your father and I had a deal. I paid him handsomely, in advance, for the horse Riah. I wanted to escort her home myself, and this was