The Sheikh’s Fake Courtship: Halabi Sheikhs, #2

By Leslie North

Just once, Raina Mousa wants to do something daring, something her loving but strict parents would never approve of. Though Raina's lived most of her life in the U.S., she's agreed to an arranged marriage and to settle down in her parents' home country of Al-Mifadhir. Before she meets her fiancé, however, she can't resist having a night of fun with the hot, sexy man she meets in a bar. The next morning, though, she's horrified to discover the man she's just spent one unforgettable night with is her future husband's brother, Chadil Halabi. The good news? Chadil's elderly and confused aunt brokered a marriage contract with a man who was already married. So now Raina doesn't feel quite so guilty about her amazing night with Chadil. But then Chadil's aunt makes things infinitely worse by announcing to the world that Chadil and Raina are engaged. Chadil's solution? A fake courtship. They'll spend a few weeks together, say they don't suit, then go their separate ways. Except things are about to get a little bit complicated…

 

Chadil knows a fake courtship is not the best solution to their predicament, but it's vital his family avoid scandal. What's the worst that can happen? Plus, spending time with Raina isn't exactly a trial. Once their time together is over, Chadil can continue his blissfully free bachelor's life and Raina can return to Baltimore. Yet their moments together prove they're far more compatible than either had thought, and they're getting pretty darn good at fooling the press into believing they really are a couple. They just need to get through the next few weeks without doing something monumentally stupid in front of the paparazzi. If only Raina could understand appearances mean everything—even more than the truth. But the press is relentless, and it isn't long before rumors of a break-up are rampant. Problem is, this time the press has the story totally correct.

 

To save their relationship, Chadil has to do the hardest thing he's ever done: be honest with himself, with the press…and with Raina.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Relay Publishing
• Release date: Nov 16, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201651213

Book preview

1

Raina sucked in a deep breath. Freedom tasted sweet, or maybe that was the amaretto on her tongue. But the hotel bar was crowded, too stuffy by far. Outside, Rome waited, the warm air fragrant with street food and oleander, and where better to spend her last night as a single woman?

"Another, signorina?" The bartender gestured at her glass, but Raina shook her head. She paid quickly and gathered up her purse. Excitement sang in her veins as she wove her way through the crowd. This was a rare opportunity—a hot starry night in a city where no one knew her—and she wasn’t about to waste it. She did a little skip heading into the lobby, propelling herself smack into the hottest guy she’d seen all night.

"Oh! Uh, scusi."

"Prego. The guy stepped out of her way and straightened his lapels. His suit was immaculate, and so was the rest of him, from his glossy black hair to his pristine wingtips. He fixed her with a stern look. American, right?"

Raina wilted a little. Is my accent that bad?

Truthfully? His dark eyes lit up with mischief. You sound like Taylor Swift in a mob movie.

Aw, that’s mean. Raina let her shoulders droop, but she felt the beginning of a grin skip across her expression. Now you’ve hurt my feelings.

Have I? The guy leaned in closer, a smile tugging at his lips. Tell me your name so I can apologize properly.

My name... Raina hesitated. Why don’t you give me one?

Excuse me?

She squared her shoulders, a heady excitement rising in her chest. I’m a stranger in a strange land. Just for tonight, I’d like to be someone else. Someone who has adventures. Who makes memories under the stars.

Memories under the stars. The man took her hand in both of his. His grip was warm and strong, and it set her heart racing. His eyes blazed. And when had he come so close, so close she could feel the heat radiating off him? Then you’ll be Stella, he said. ‘Stella by Starlight.’ You know that song?

Raina swayed, breathless. The words rolled off his tongue like honey, leaving her weak in the knees. She barely managed to shake her head no.

You’d like it, I think. It’s complex, playful on the surface, full of yearning underneath. Suits you right down to the ground. He smiled. Your turn.

Hm?

Don’t I get a name?

Oh. She looked him up and down. Even dressed to the nines, she could see he was fit. His tailor deserved a medal, the way his suit flattered his broad shoulders and trim waist. He was like a statue, lean and perfect. David, she said. You’ll be David.

David. The name sounded sexy on his lips, rich with the trace of an accent. Well, now we’ve named each other, it’d be a shame to part ways. Might I call you Stella over a drink, maybe somewhere more intimate?

Raina bit her lip. This was probably a mistake, slipping off into the night with a man with no name. But she’d skipped out of that bar looking for adventure, and he promised that in spades. Where would we go?

There’s a jazz club I’m fond of, down by Porto San Paolo. He stepped back, smiling. My driver will take us. You’ll be safe.

Raina looked past David, where the big double doors opened onto a city she’d never seen. A taxi swept past, high beams glaring. She could smell David’s cologne, a faint note of spice. It smelled like her fantasies, everything she’d never allowed herself.

All right. She hooked her arm through his before she could change her mind. Jazz was just noise to her, but she could listen to David all night, that low voice, that sultry accent. Let’s go hear some jazz.

The club was a dump on the outside, a palace on the inside, and whoever David was in real life, he was a VIP here. Several patrons called out as he entered, and he answered, the Italian flowing off his tongue like a song. A barrel-chested man who could only be the owner greeted him with a kiss on both cheeks and hustled them to a table on its own little balcony, shielded from the crowd by a curtain of ivy. Raina trotted to keep up, half-dazzled by the opulent surroundings.

Bring us an old fashioned and— David glanced at Raina, pulling out her chair. What will you have?

The same.

Two old fashioneds, then. He took his place at the table, leaning back contentedly. I love it here, he said. Every time I’m in Rome, it’s dinner at Perilli and jazz for dessert.

You’re not from here, then?

He signaled for the waiter. No. I’m from the south.

The south? So that would be— The band struck up, the piano rattling in one direction while the sax noodled off in another. Raina cocked a brow. I’m afraid you’ll have to clue me in. To me, jazz is like an accident at the music factory, all those notes tumbling over one another. She waggled her fingers, miming notes raining down. It’s like, where’s the tune?

Where’s the—? David fanned himself with a napkin. The beauty’s in the structure of it, the layered patterns, the cascading harmonies. When you get into the mathematics of it, when you really dig in— He blinked and leaned back a little. What’s so funny?

I’m not laughing. Raina smothered her mirth. "I mean, obviously I am, but not at you. You’re fired up like whoa, but you’re talking about math. For me, it’s not music without passion."

Without passion? How can you hear ‘In a Sentimental Mood,’ and not catch fire? He reached across the table and clasped her hand. You don’t feel your heart break a little, like you’re homesick for somewhere you’ve never been?

Raina’s pulse raced. She wanted to feel that homesickness, if only so David could comfort her, but all she felt was confused. Maybe get them to play that one?

They are. David chuckled. Just listen. Lose yourself in those riffs, that tinkling piano.

She closed her eyes and tried, letting the music wash over her. Somewhere in that mess, there was magic to be found, David Copperfield making the Statue of Liberty disappear, but all she could find was her eighth-grade teacher sticking his hand in a hat and getting bitten by a rabbit. The sax was heavy, droning in her ears. The piano plinked without direction, aimless eddies of sound.

It takes time, said David. It was the same for me till it all clicked into place.

Raina opened her eyes, relieved. She hated feeling dumb. I feel like someone just told a joke, and I’m the only one not laughing.

Tell me one you do get, then. David’s smile widened. What makes you happy?

The piano—but classical, not jazz, she said. Mom always—I was this crazy ball of energy, and she wanted her perfect little lady, so she signed me up for everything under the sun, everything she thought would transform me. I had ballet Mondays and Wednesdays—which I was terrible at, by the way—horseback riding on Tuesdays and Thursdays, choir on Fridays, then on Saturdays, Dad would sit me down and teach me piano. I’d look forward to that all week.

David leaned forward. You still play?

I do. She shook her head. It’s all about Bach for me, sometimes Liszt or Rachmaninoff. I play through something complicated, something that demands my full attention, and there’s no room to worry about anything else.

Liszt. I’m impressed. A hopeful look crossed David’s face. "Can you do La Campanella?"

I can. She drummed her fingers on the table, sketching out the opening measures. Too bad the piano’s in use. I’d show you.

And I’d fall for you, head over heels. I love the Romantic composers.

Regret tugged at Raina’s heart. She’d never see David after tonight. She was as good as engaged to another man, one she’d never met. In the morning, she’d fly to him, and Rome would be a memory. Still, she couldn’t help picturing it, how this brilliant, gorgeous man might win her over. It wouldn’t take much. A brush of his fingers, a whisper in her ear, and—

A livelier melody struck up, and David shifted in his seat.

Shall we dance?

She glanced at the dance floor. A wiry man spun his partner and caught her in his arms, dipping her till her hair brushed the floor. She pretended to claw her way up his chest, sinuous as a cat. Raina shook her head. I’d just embarrass you, she said.

I’m sure you wouldn’t. And I’m an excellent teacher.

I broke my date’s toe at my prom.

David burst out laughing. I knew there was something dangerous about you. He reached for his drink as the waiter set it down. To your health, then, and his. I trust he’s walking again?

Ha. Raina made a face, but she had to admit she was enjoying herself. David’s charm was undeniable. He had a relaxed sort of confidence about him, like nothing could rattle his cage. As the evening wore on, she found herself wanting to mess that up. A thrill raced through her as she pictured his hair in disarray, his lips swollen from kissing. She could make it happen if she wanted to, lean over the table, grab a handful of that neatly pressed shirt. She was technically still single, and she guessed he was too. His gaze had turned hungry, or maybe it was the light. It wouldn’t do to assume—

The candlelight suits you, he said, so softly she had to lean in to hear. It gives you this otherworldly glow. He traced the curve of her cheek with one finger, almost touching but not quite. Raina felt him all the same, a crackle of electricity that made the hairs rise on the back of her neck.

And you look—

The band chose that moment to fall silent. Raina pulled back, feeling exposed.

Yes? David’s eyes sparkled with amusement.

Is it hot in here or...?

Why don’t we step outside? He dropped some bills on the table, then took her by the hand and led her to the street, pausing under the bar sign to let her catch her breath. Look up, he said, and Raina did. The breath went out of her in a rush. The moon was high in the sky, nestled in a scattering of stars. David leaned forward, his eyes black with desire. "All the stars of Rome are shining in your eyes. We could call this our adventure and part with a kiss, or..."

Or? Raina hardly dared breathe.

Or throw caution to the wind and see where it takes us. He winked, then he murmured something in Italian, something that sounded like poetry.

Raina exhaled sharply. "I have no idea what you just said,