Amahd: Captivated by the Sheikh: Desert Kings, #6

DESERT KINGS

Amahd

Captivated by the Sheikh

By Jennifer Lewis

Desert Kings

Three brothers return to claim their thrones in remote and beautiful Ubar after their estranged father dies and divides his kingdom between them.

In Captivated by the Sheikh

Amahd Al Kilanjar is all work and no play. Yes, he needs to choose a sensible wife and produce an heir, but he’ll fit that into his schedule when the time is right…or so he thinks.

Mackenzie Mac Malone travels to Ubar for a job in the oil fields, and is startled when an innocent flirtation with a handsome stranger leads to an explosive kiss. A Texas country girl and a prince from an ancient dynasty? Impossible, surely…or is it?

Note: Mackenzie and Amahd’s first meeting—and unexpected kiss—happen in the novella A Christmas Wedding (included at the end of this book for easy reference).

The Desert Kings series:

Desert Kings Short: Veronica - Stranded with the Sheikh

Desert Kings: Book 1: Osman - Rescued by the Sheikh

Desert Kings: Book 2: Zadir - Bought for the Sheikh

Desert Kings Short: Mistletoe Butterfly: A Christmas Wedding

Desert Kings Book 3: Gibran - Return of the Rebel Sheikh

Desert Kings: Book 4: Amahd - Captivated by the Sheikh

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CHAPTER ONE

His bite is worse than his bark.

What? Isn’t it supposed to be the other way round? Mackenzie Malone did not like the sound of her new boss.

Thing is… Bubba, the burly foreman who’d hired her, leaned in to whisper. He’s a man of few words, so there ain’t much barkin’ to warn you. But he don’t suffer fools gladly, I’ll tell you that.

I’m no fool. She squared her shoulders.

Wouldn’t have hired you if you were. Wait here ’til I call you in. He rapped twice on the door then stepped into the boss’s office, leaving Mackenzie alone in the marble-oilfloored hallway.

The whole building was new, along with the oil field they were here to develop. Everything was big and expensive looking. Built to last, too, unlike the portable structures from her last job in Midland, Texas.

A female mechanic? The deep male voice boomed loud enough to travel right through the tall wood door to the hallway outside. Where Mac braced herself. Another arrogant male who didn’t think a woman could turn a wrench. She should be used to it by now.

She heard Bubba protesting that she had oil field experience and had passed his tests with flying colors. It warmed her heart to hear him stand up for her. He was the kind of blustering good ole boy who usually called her darlin’. She hadn’t expected him to hire her and she still suspected he’d never have interviewed her if she didn’t call herself Mac on her résumé rather than the obviously feminine Mackenzie.

The Boss, as Bubba always referred to him, spoke English but with a foreign accent. He was one of the royal princes she’d caught a glimpse of at the big wedding she’d attended when she came to interview. In a way it surprised her that someone like that even bothered to show up at the office. They were apparently richer than God.

Bring her in, growled the faceless voice of the big boss again.

Mac felt her stomach shrivel. She hoped he wasn’t about to send her packing. She’d just finished telling her whole extended family about her new job. She sure as heck didn’t want to tell them she’d been laid off.

The door opened and she squared her shoulders and strode boldly in. Years of standing up to her brothers had taught her how to stick up for herself, if nothing else.

Then she saw him.

No way. No one’s luck is that bad. I must be mistaken.

She blinked. Maybe it was a trick of the light. She couldn’t really see his face with all that sunshine blazing from the big window behind him. She drew in a shaky breath and thrust out her hand.

She watched—everything seemed to be happening in slow motion—as he lifted his big arm. His shirtsleeves were rolled up to reveal a tanned, muscled forearm.

It has to be a different guy.

Has to be.

Then his fingers touched hers and a jolt of electricity rocked her.

Nope. Same guy.

Her heart started pounding and she attempted to shake his hand while adrenaline rushed through her body and her blood heated to one thousand degrees.

She’d kissed the boss.

Kissed the prince.

Kissed the man who held her future in his hands.

Kissed him!

Thoughts tangled in her brain and she wondered if she should make light of it—I believe we’ve met!—or something like that.

But the frown that clouded his brow, and the grim expression that flashed in his dark eyes, stilled her tongue. She swallowed, hard.

Finally he pulled his hand back and she jerked hers away and managed not to rub it hard on her pants to remove the burning wisps of heat that clung to her skin.

Miss… He glanced down at the dossier on his desk. Mackenzie.

She nodded. That’s me! It came out in a foolish chirp.

And this was a guy who didn’t suffer fools.

It was her fault, too. He was so handsome and serious, she couldn’t resist flirting with him. How was she supposed to know who he was?

Her mind raced—along with her pulse—as he stared hard at the paper for a long moment. Probably trying to conjure a reason to fire her.

I’m excited to be working here, she stammered. I have a lot of oil field experience and I look forward to being a valuable part of your team. She had to salvage the situation. This job was too good to lose. It paid almost three times as much as the equivalent in Texas and offered free Montessori day care for her daughter.

He held her gaze for a breath stealing instant. Your responsibilities will be demanding.

I look forward to the challenge. She jutted her chin at him. Did he recognize her? Maybe he didn’t. Or maybe he was just pretending not to. Both possibilities were surprisingly disappointing.

Good. His phone rang and he looked down at his desk, which caused her to sag with relief. He picked up his phone and started talking in another language, then nodded at Bubba, who gestured for her to head for the door.

Once they were out in the hallway Bubba clapped her on the back. See? He’s gruff but you won’t feel his bite if you do your job.

I intend to make him very satisfied. She swallowed.

He knows what he’s doing, too. Studied engineering at MIT and started his own oil exploration company before he turned twenty.

Impressive. What would Bubba say if he knew she’d flirted with Amahd Al Kilanjar at his own brothers’ wedding? That she’d approached him and even kissed him? She thought he was just another guest, since he’d been standing alone like her, looking awkward.

And she’d done it in front of whoever happened to be watching, so sooner or later someone might recognize her as the woman who’d kissed him.

Until then she’d do her best to pretend the flirting, the dance and the kiss had never happened.

Amahd arrived at the palace just as his brothers and their wives sat down to dinner. Usually he ate alone in his own house, catching up on some work, but tonight he wanted the distraction of their babbling conversation, the bubbling palace fountains and bustling servants.

He tried to remind himself that the red-haired woman was simply another employee. He’d worked hard to put her out of his mind the moment after their oddly unexpected kiss. He had no reason to think of her at all.

Amahd! I’m so glad you’re here. Sam gestured to him. His brother Osman’s wife was always trying to rope him into family events. We can talk about the tent-pegging contest. Zadir was telling me it’s tradition for the host to provide horses for all the contestants. Do we have enough?

Amahd eased into his seat and took a piece of fresh hot bread from a passing platter. I’ll bring mine here. We must give all our guests the finest horses.

Even if they’re trying to kill us? Ronnie, his brother Zadir’s wife, lifted a brow.

We’re not sure who’s trying to kill us, my love. Zadir kissed her cheek. So we have to assume that our guests are our friends and allies—while at the same time also suspecting each and every one of them of the crimes. Our security forces are on high alert.

And will remain so until we figure out who’s behind the attacks, said Osman. This whole contest is simply a means to an end. Our sole goal is to identify and deal with the culprit.

And find a suitable bride for Amahd, said Sam, with a sly smile.

What? Amahd almost spat out his bread. I’ll be far too busy running the contest. I’m the only one of you who really knows anything about tent-pegging.

It’s too good an opportunity to waste, said Sam. She sipped her rose water. The rulers of three surrounding nations will be attending with their extended families, including—Osman assures me—all daughters of marriageable age. What better way to cement an alliance between nations?

And you’re the last of us to take a wife. Osman leaned in. Since our father made marriage condition of taking the throne, you have to marry in order to become the true ruler of your territory.

I’m ruling it just fine from behind a boardroom table, he grumbled. Why did he need a fancy title? He’d never intended to be a monarch. His brother Osman was the firstborn son, but their estranged father had surprised them all by dividing the kingdom into three and splitting it among them.

Your people will expect it of you.

He couldn’t imagine the few thousand villagers in his unpopulated but oil rich section of the old kingdom could care much one way or the other. But, like his brothers, he’d done much of his growing up abroad so sometimes it was hard to figure out what the local people thought.

I’m not going to marry a child. Some local customs made him shudder.

No one wants you to get betrothed to a well-born fourteen-year-old, Amahd. Zadir laughed. We want you to find a woman who will make you happy.

His brothers were annoyingly smug about their own happiness. Neither of them seemed to think it at all odd that they’d married foreigners—bold American women with their own careers—who knew nothing about their country or customs.

He intended to make a more suitable choice, someone quiet and serious, who understood Ubarite customs and could help him follow them. On the other hand he wasn’t sure he was quite suited to a woman who’d never lived outside her family home and didn’t have any interests outside of getting married.

Who was that girl I saw you dancing with at the wedding party? Sam looked up from helping herself to some spiced chicken. Mischief danced in her blue eyes—or was that an effect of the light from the hanging lanterns?

I have no idea. What kind of name was Mac for a girl? When he’d seen her resume it hadn’t crossed his mind that the new hire would be female.

What nonsense. I introduced you! She was all by herself and I thought she could use a dance. I could swear I saw the two of you dancing together later on.

And kissing.

Thankfully she didn’t mention that part. Hopefully she hadn’t seen it. He’d have to explain it as a trick of the light or confusion caused by the crowd. He certainly didn’t intend to pursue any kind of relationship with a girl who was now one of his employees.

Leave Amahd alone, protested Ronnie. He’ll find someone when he’s ready.

Thank you. He nodded to her. She was quieter and more reserved than her new sister Sam. And slim and dark, very elegant. He could see himself with an Ubarite version of Ronnie. He couldn’t see himself with a redheaded mechanic.

The thought almost made him want to laugh or shake his head or get up and go for a fierce gallop, but he managed to distract himself by spooning roasted meat onto his plate. We need to practice the tent-pegging games. So we can win.

Wouldn’t it be prudent to let our guests win? Osman lifted a brow.

Let them win? Amahd was shocked. Then it wouldn’t be a contest. That would insult their skill and intelligence.

There can’t be much to it, said Zadir. Don’t you jump on a horse, gallop like the clappers and toss a spear into a target, or something?

That’s the gist of it, Amahd took a deep breath. But you need to be both the fastest and the most accurate. And as we all know, horses are unpredictable. The faster you ride, the more likely things are to go off the rails. But I have some ideas, some techniques we could practice, if you can make the time to meet me at the stables tomorrow.

Sure, Zadir beamed. And it’ll give us a chance to find out which horses are cut out for it.

Osman squared his shoulders. I’ll ride that chestnut I bought at the marriage ceremony.

The one that threw you on the road and nearly killed you? Sam’s eyes widened.

She’s a fine mare. Just needs a little more polish on her training. Osman grinned. She’s going to be your horse one day. He looked at his wife with such love in his eyes that Amahd felt a little residual emotion wash in his direction. But not while you’re pregnant, or course.

Both his brothers’ wives were now expecting. He had to admit they did glow like legend said they should. And there was a lot of talk about nurseries and schooling and big hopes for the future. If he did find himself a wife, or even a date, they’d probably pressure him to have children right away as well.

And he wasn’t ready for that. Far too busy with work. Having to marry to become king was a serious annoyance. In some ways it would be ideal if he could forge a tidy marriage of convenience with someone who’d stay out of his way and let him get on with his life.

But he didn’t want that either. When he married it would be for life, and for love.

Amahd takes everything too seriously. His brother Zadir’s voice made him look up from his plate and he realized he’d lost track of the conversation. We could probably bring our horses out of the stables and have a perfectly good contest right now, without any training.

If you’re going to do something, why not do your best? Amahd protested.

I couldn’t agree more. Gibran, their half brother finally chimed into the conversation. He was now palace security chief and in charge of making sure the tent-pegging contest accomplished their main goal of identifying and apprehending their enemy—suspected to be a jealous or greedy foreign ruler—who’d deployed bombs and missiles to cause injury and fear. The more we can eliminate the unknown the better. We should know those horses—and the games we’ll be playing—like we know our own wives.

Sam, Ronnie and Aliyah—Gibran’s new wife—all laughed. If only it were that easy. Sam winked at Aliyah. Do you men really think you know what goes on in our minds?

Only when you want us too. Gibran smiled at Aliyah.

Aliyah was the one Ubarite among the women, and she’d been their father’s fifth and last wife. And don’t you forget it. She smiled, flashing her tiny white teeth. She’d grown immensely in confidence—and American vocabulary—since Gibran had drawn her out of her shell and into their midst.

Amahd had to admit that all three of his brothers had kind, warm, intelligent and beautiful wives.

Perhaps he could find the perfect wife for himself. But how? As a member of an ancient royal house could hardly sign up for a dating website. Besides he was reserved and found it hard to make the kind of polite chatter women seemed to expect from a suitor.

Luckily he had more urgent matters to attend to.

CHAPTER TWO

Mac dropped her daughter off at the Bright Beginnings day care near her new apartment half a mile from the oil field complex and headed for the jobsite. She needed to impress upon her new coworkers that a woman could do the job. If experience was any guide, they’d all be looking for her to fail and she had no intention of doing that.

Morning, she said brightly, as she entered the staff building to retrieve her hard hat from her locker. Three men turned to stare, and she felt their eyes travel the length of her body. Which, frankly, wasn’t all that far to travel. I’m the new maintenance mechanic. Mac Malone.

One younger guy cleared his throat and nodded. Riley Latham. The others gruffly followed suit, viewing her with suspicion. I’m not sure an oil field in a foreign country is a safe place for a girl, muttered Riley, surveying her down the length of his crooked nose.

It’s as safe as the people around me make it. She buckled on her tool belt, attached her nametag and tucked her hair under her hard hat. And I’ve never lived in a palace so I’ve learned how to handle myself. She didn’t want them to get any ideas that they could intimidate her—which they couldn’t.

Speaking of palaces… An older guy who’d introduced himself as Mike shook his head. You just missed seeing the one here. We all got invited to the big wedding shindig. I’ve never seen so much money on display in my life.

Mac froze. They didn’t realize she’d been there. She was out here interviewing for her job when the wedding happened, and the human resources manager had insisted she attend. She’d had to wear her nightgown, because mechanics didn’t usually travel to job interviews with evening attire in their luggage. She nodded and smiled, determined to say nothing.

I got so drunk I barely remember anything, said a young blond guy called Rick. But I didn’t throw up.

I drank enough to pass out under the table myself, murmured Riley. Too good an opportunity to waste. I was working in Saudi for the past seven years and didn’t see a drop of alcohol the whole time. Guess I lost my tolerance.

Mac heaved a silent sigh of relief. Not only had they probably not noticed her and Amahd together, they seemed like the kind of harmless knuckleheads she was used to from back home. If they left her to do her job, they’d all get along fine.

She headed out to start the routine Bubba had given her, looking over equipment and performing routine maintenance, lubricating bearings, tightening flanges, checking belts.

She was up a ladder and had her arm halfway up a pipe, installing a clevis pin, when she heard the sound of a male throat clearing.

Be right with ya, she called. She had to lubricate the pin and it was in an awkward spot. She’d even had to take her glove off to get a better feel for it. Once she’d finished, she pulled back her arm and wiped her greasy fingers on a rag, then jumped down from the ladder and turned around.

To see six foot plus of big muscular royal male glaring down at her.

Oh. She wiped her hand again. No use. It wasn’t going to get clean. Good morning. I was just doing the startup routine. That there is the—

Oil discharge piping. I know. I designed the facility. His dark eyes were narrowed, though she couldn’t tell if it was with amusement, curiosity or something else altogether.

Yes. She grinned, unable to think of anything sensible to say. Especially with her blood heating and prickles of sensation roaming her body. How did one rather obnoxious man have this effect on her? She thought she was immune to all male nonsense by now.

He glanced around as if making sure no one could hear. Sun glinted off nearby machinery as he cleared his throat again. I appreciate your discretion. His dark eyes glittered.

And I appreciate yours. She held her tongue, praying she could manage not to babble. She usually talked too much when she was embarrassed.

He did recognize her. The realization made her heart beat faster.

Her new boss frowned. It was late and everyone was so drunk that I don’t think too many people noticed. I think we can safely forget about it. His expression was so serious, it almost made her laugh.

He could forget about it.

She wasn’t going to forget that kiss any time soon.

Indeed. She nodded and rubbed her hands on her overalls. I wasn’t drinking myself. I got carried away with the festive atmosphere. I hadn’t been to a party in a while and I— Oh, great, this was the babbling.

I understand. And my sister-in-law Samantha put us in an awkward position to begin with by forcing two total strangers to dance. You simply responded with common courtesy.

By tracking him down later in the evening and approaching him again.

He frowned. We’d never have kissed if it wasn’t for that silly mistletoe challenge.

Right. She’d been dying to kiss him and jumped at the chance.

So I was just being a polite host, and you were being a gracious guest. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.

Of course not. She blinked and realized that she hadn’t been breathing.

I’ll let you get back to your work. He glanced up at the machine she’d been lubricating

Thank you. I really appreciate this job and I’m very excited to work here. I promise that you’ll be satisfied with my performance. If there’s anything I can do… Uh-oh, there she went again. I’ll just tighten up your nuts. She froze, wishing she could take back what should have been perfectly innocent words. If only she could dry up and blow away right now.

He blinked but still stood like a statue. Either the accidental innuendo was lost on him or he chose to ignore it. Then he turned and left, broad shoulders moving coolly over narrow hips inside a pair of blue overalls similar to her own.

She sagged with relief as he left the room. It was going to be difficult to act normal around Amahd Al