The Sheikh's Tempted Protectress (The Sheikh's Every Wish Book 4) Read online

  As she inspected Osman’s injuries, she realized that he was staring at her. She stopped looking anywhere else, gazing instead into the warm brown eyes she had come to adore.

  Without uttering a word, he lifted a hand and gently traced a thumb along her jawline, cupping her chin. Beth gasped as he pressed his lips to hers, gentle at first, then deeper, more passionate. There, on the floor of the prison cell, Osman kissed the woman he loved with every ounce of his being, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him as tightly as she dared.

  They were safe.

  FOURTEEN

  Beth

  The next day, Beth and Osman were sitting in the back of a police car, on their way back to his city estate. They had spent some time at the station giving testimony and statements about their experiences. It hadn’t been a particularly pleasant experience, and frankly, the two of them were filthy, exhausted, and in desperate need of rest. But it was over. And they were going home.

  As they drove up the winding road to the mansion, Beth sighed with relief at the sight of the manor house, stately and perfect, just as they had left it. Osman wound his fingers through hers, and she gave his hand a happy squeeze.

  Adil rushed out of the house to greet them, opening the car door. Osman slid out first, holding out a hand for Beth to take, which she did, gladly.

  “Your Highness! We were all sick with worry! Are you both all right?” Adil said, his words coming out in a rush. His accent was stronger with his fear, Beth noticed.

  Inside the main hall, the whole household was lined up with worried faces, and Osman smiled at them as the chatter was instantly silenced by their arrival.

  “Thank you all for your concern. It was a harrowing experience, but thanks to Beth, we have come out unscathed and ready for some peace and relaxation,” Osman said to the crowd, and Beth marveled at how easy these words came to him.

  There was a collective sigh of relief among the staff. After a brief pause, everyone scurried to get back to work, and Osman took Beth’s hands in his.

  “I’ve got a couple of calls I need to make, but can we meet for dinner later, in my room?” he asked, his eyes aglow.

  “I’d be delighted, Your Highness,” Beth said with a grin.

  “Osman,” he said, the corner of his lip tilting upward.

  Beth’s smile widened. “Osman,” she agreed.

  He planted a gentle kiss on her cheek before heading down the hallway towards his rooms. Beth watched him until he was out of sight, and then turned toward her own quarters. Never in her entire life had she been more excited to take a shower.

  FIFTEEN

  Osman

  Osman stared at the phone, sitting on its receiver on his dresser. This call had been a long time coming. He knew he’d have to make it now, before the news really spread about what had happened.

  Taking a deep breath, Osman picked up the phone, and dialed a well-known number.

  “Hello?”

  Osman paused. “Mother?”

  Silence, and then, “Osman! Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been? Hearing rumors, completely unable to reach you, beside myself with worry…”

  Osman let her have her say, which took about as long as he’d expected. He deserved nothing less. Finally, when his mother decided to take a breath, he cut in.

  “I know, Mamma. I know. I deserve all of this and more. I’ve been terrible to you, and I’m sorry.”

  This was met with stunned silence. Osman took advantage of it.

  “I know I haven’t been the best son I could be to you, and I know that things have been difficult with dad gone, but I want you to know that I miss you and I love you, and if you would like to come back to live at home with me, that would bring me more joy than you could possibly know.”

  To his surprise, he heard his mother weeping quietly into the phone. This was all very new. His mother was not normally an emotional person. After a few more sniffles, he heard her compose herself.

  “I would like that very much, Osman. But there’s something I’d like to know, first. What happened to you and that American woman?”

  Osman told her the story from the beginning, finally explaining Connor and his plan to torture him and send him home in pieces. Osman’s mother then said some very nasty things that he pretended not to hear.

  “Before I come back, I’m going to make a few phone calls. We’ll make sure this kind of corruption never touches the house of Al-Haddeni ever again,” she said, her voice firm.

  Osman smiled. “Whatever you want, Mother.”

  “Now tell me more about this bodyguard. What on earth were you thinking?”

  “I was thinking it’s time to recruit a new one,” he said.

  “Well I should think so,” she agreed.

  Osman laughed. “Because I think I’d like to someday marry this one instead.”

  Silence.

  He’d shocked her again. Osman was nothing to his mother if not scandalous.

  “Well, let her meet your mother first, and we’ll see if she passes the test.”

  “She will, Mamma. She’s amazing. I love her.”

  “I’ve never heard you use that word in reference to a girl before. Ever,” she said, and Osman realized that she was absolutely correct.

  “No, I don’t believe I have,” he agreed.

  “Perhaps I like her more already, then,” Osman’s mother laughed, and he laughed too. For someone who had had everything, this was the first time he truly felt as though he had it all.

  “I’ll take care of things up here then, and I’ll rejoin you soon, my son,” she said, and Osman bid her a fond farewell before hanging up the phone.

  He reached for his remote and called for Adil to enter.

  “Sir?” Adil said, appearing a moment later at the door.

  Osman was stripping out of his dirty clothing, preparing for the most well-deserved shower of his life. He winced at the burn on his arm, though it was properly covered and slathered with cooling medicine. That burn would haunt him for a long time, he thought.

  He turned to Adil. “Thank you for coming so quickly, Adil. Tonight Miss Coolidge and I will be taking dinner in my rooms. Can you please make sure that the most delicious meal we can make is prepared? And have lots of candles brought in,” he said, grinning.

  Adil repressed his own grin, but it was clear to Osman that his right-hand man was more than happy at this turn of events. From what he could see, everyone in the house loved Beth, too.

  “Of course, Your Highness. With pleasure,” Adil said, bowing out as Osman headed for his shower.

  He would clean up well tonight. Now it was time to celebrate.

  SIXTEEN

  Beth

  Beth had enjoyed a peaceful afternoon in her rooms, watching trashy TV and lounging in the enormous bath tub. For once in her life, she took the time to enjoy the present. She didn’t think about where she would be going next, nor about the life she had left behind. She just…was. And it was glorious.

  Time passed quickly, and before she knew it, it was time to join Osman for dinner. She hoped he’d managed to get some rest, too, but she’d be lying to herself if she didn’t admit she was wildly excited to see him again.

  Taking time to style her hair and put on some makeup, she reached into the back of her closet and slid into one of the floor-length designer gowns he had ordered for her. If anyone had asked just days before if she’d be caught dead in that thing, the answer would have been a resounding no, but tonight she felt like dressing up.

  There was a knock at the door, and when Beth bid the person to enter, she was happy to see Adil appear.

  “Dinner is ready, miss,” he said with a bow.

  Beth smiled. “Do you think you’ll ever be able to call me Beth, Adil?”

  “No, miss. It wouldn’t be proper at all.”

  “Can’t blame a girl for trying,” she said with a grin, and to her surprise, Adil grinned back.

  “No, miss. Right this way.”


  When Adil opened the door to Osman’s rooms, at first all Beth could see was glowing light. The room was bursting with dozens of white candles, a warm glow washing over everything the light touched. Osman was standing on his balcony, looking out at the city, but when he heard the door open, he turned and looked back at her.

  God, he was stunning.

  His smile was warm as his eyes took her in, which she might have noticed if she wasn’t busy doing the same thing to him. He was clean-shaven and wearing a suit that perfectly framed his strong body.

  He approached her and took her hand, planting a light kiss just above her knuckles.

  “Beth, what can I say? You look phenomenal,” he said, his gaze warm.

  She didn’t attempt to hide her blush. “Thank you,” she said, glancing around to avoid buckling beneath his gaze.

  Osman gestured at their surroundings. “Do you like it? I thought I’d recreate our last date, only I wanted to show you that I can do much better than pasta and a few paltry candles.”

  Beth’s gaze landed on the dinner table, which was loaded with a huge variety of food. It looked delicious, and her stomach growled in agreement.

  Embarrassed, she flicked a glance at Osman, but he didn’t seem to hear, or he was good enough to pretend he didn’t.

  “Shall we sit?” he said.

  “Yes, please,” Beth agreed, and Osman held out her chair for her before sitting down across the table from her.

  Together they proceeded to stuff themselves with food, sharing forkfuls of roast lamb, curried meats, feta cheese and raw oysters on the half shell.

  “This is all very tasty,” Beth said, after swallowing another oyster. “But that’s not to say I didn’t enjoy our pasta dish, too.”

  Osman laughed. “Yeah, right. There’s no need to lie, Beth. It was bad.”

  “It wasn’t!”

  “It was crunchy!”

  “Well, that’s true…” Beth giggled. “But the wine was good.”

  “That reminds me. I brought champagne for the evening. Thought we could celebrate taking care of the bad guys. Care to join me?”

  Beth didn’t hesitate. “Fill her up!” she said cheerfully as Osman popped the cork and poured the fizzing amber liquid into two crystal glasses.

  She reached for her glass, and held it up. “To a life of safety, good memories, and good wine,” she said, waiting for him to clink his glass against hers.

  Osman held onto his champagne, and made his own toast. “To love,” he said, looking at her in that way that only he could.

  Beth paused, then touched her glass to his, not breaking eye contact for a moment.

  “To love,” she agreed.

  They finished their meal, and Osman helped Beth from her seat. As she placed her hand in his, she felt the distinct sensation of being home, and it made her happier than she ever thought possible.

  Osman guided her to his terrace, where he stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her as they watched the sun setting in the distance. The sky was a magnificent mix of burnt oranges and pastel pinks, with a touch of indigo along the horizon.

  “Beth?” he said, brushing his lips against her temple.

  Beth shivered, nestling deeper into the comfort of his strong arms. “Mm?” she said, not able to say anything else in that moment; the sensation of being held was just too enjoyable.

  “Did you know, in the short time I’ve known you, you have become my closest friend?”

  Beth turned in the circle of his arms to look up at him. Gently, she pressed a palm to his chin, enjoying the light stubble already growing there.

  “Really?”

  Osman ran his hands along her back. “Really. I’ve never felt like this before, not about anyone. With you, I see someone I can confide in, someone I can talk to, who will really hear me. Someone I feel truly safe with,” he said with a grin.

  Beth gazed up at him, waiting for him to go on. There was clearly something else he wanted to say.

  Osman took a breath. “I was hoping you would accept a new position. I was hoping you’d consider being my girlfriend,” he said, looking at her with earnest eyes.

  Beth thought about that for a minute, feeling his muscled chest tense with nervousness beneath her fingers. She looked out at the last embers of the sun for a moment, and then back at him.

  “On one condition,” she said.

  Osman raised an eyebrow.

  “The condition being that you hire yourself a new bodyguard. I don’t think I can handle being both,” Beth said, a huge grin spreading across her face.

  Osman looked relieved. “I think that can be arranged,” he said, tightening his arms around her once more.

  Beth hugged him tight. “Your Highness, I’m afraid I must tender my resignation as your bodyguard, effective immediately.”

  Osman pulled back gently, cradling her face once again in his hands as he gazed adoringly into her eyes.

  “I accept your resignation. Now, as my girlfriend, can you tell me you love me?”

  Beth beamed. “Oh, Osman. You know I love you,” she said.

  He kissed her then, deeply, passionately, as the sun sank behind them in the glowing western sky.

  The End

  Holly Rayner

  With an original story by Lara Hunter

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  Thank you so much for reading. As promised, here are the first few chapters of my previous book, The Sheikh’s Purchased Bride

  ONE

  It seemed like every Broadway actress had a ritual before her curtain call. Breathing exercises, mantras, stretches and impossible yoga poses; all perfectly acceptable rituals to ready the actress for her moment in the spotlight.

  This was hardly Broadway, however, and Amie Shaw’s pre-show ritual wasn’t nearly anything glamorous. Nor was she the lead. In fact, she was merely the understudy, and lately, her pre-theater routine mostly consisted of circling the want ads in the Chicago Tribune while sipping back copious amounts of free green room coffee.

  It’d already been two years since she’d ditched her life as a waitress in Indiana to pursue acting in Chicago. At the time, she’d had big dreams and just the right amount of naivety to believe she would make it big. The reality, however, was far from it. Since arriving in Illinois, she’d landed a couple of small acting gigs here and there, but nothing worth writing home about. She’d nearly fainted when she received the lead role in Carolina and the Bridge—that is, until she found out she’d been cast as the understudy. Thus far she hadn’t even stepped on stage once, and tonight was the last show.

  She’d chosen her starter apartment before she’d even left Indiana; catching an ad online and deciding that particular choice would be low-budget enough that she wouldn’t be limited to eating boatloads of ramen upon coming into the city. She’d been in her ‘starter’ for two years now and desperately needed an upgrade. Still, with mounting bills and no acting career in sight, she’d taken to mindlessly searching the want ads in the paper and obsessively checking her phone for acting gigs and waitressing jobs.

  Boy, would her parents be proud.

  Though divorced, Amie’s parents could always agree on one thing: her career, or lack thereof. So it came as no surprise to her when, on separate occasions, both her mom and dad expressed concern for her pursuit of acting, especially when she decided to move out of state. She’d loved acting ever since she was a child, and she knew she was good, she just needed more opportunities. If she could get to the big city, she’d foolishly thought, the roles would come pouring in. Lately, though, she’d been thinking more and more that her parents might have been right all along.

  Like most other nights, Amie had taken her place in the wings backstage at the local theater to watch another rendition of a fantastic play she had seemingly learned all the lines in vain
for. She sat atop an old speaker near the stage, outfitted in sweatpants and a T-shirt; her long hazelnut hair scrunched up in a lazy bun.

  She absent-mindedly tapped her fingers against her coffee cup as her eyes skimmed through the paper. There was a sudden rustle backstage that might have signaled to her that the show was starting, but there was still over an hour to go before curtain call. Before she had a chance to swallow her coffee and ask a stagehand for the scoop, the director came rushing up to her.