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Married for the Sheikh’s Duty
by Tara Pammi
CHAPTER ONE
“WHAT ARE YOUR requirements in a bride, Sheikh Al-Ghamdi?”
Sheikh Zayn Al-Ghamdi stared unseeing at the flat-screen monitor that was attached to the wall in his office. Words came to his lips and fell away.
He had known for a while now that this final step of settling down and marrying was coming at him. It had been drilled into him since childhood that he would one day marry a woman who would serve him well as a wife and his country as sheikha.
Of course she would be mostly an image that would be carefully cultivated and supervised to please the people of his country. He had also been taught, by example of his own parents, that her role even in his life would be very minor. Having his children and continuing the legacy of the Al-Ghamdi family was going to be her primary duty.
Last week when Benjamin had invited him and two other men to confab, following the exposé in Celebrity Spy!, he had been the one to suggest that all his problems would be solved if he married and started producing heirs.
All three men, his rivals for years, turned reluctant allies—Benjamin Carter, Dante Mancini and Xander Trakas—had looked at him as if he’d grown two horns and a tail. Until they had seen the sense in his idea after their initial grumbling and posturing.
But faced with the question asked by Ms. Young, the billionaire matchmaker recommended by Xander, he found himself bewildered.
In the little slice of his life that he was actually the master of, Zayn resented being brought to heel like a dog by some bottom-feeding, trashy tabloid.
But thanks to the dirty exposé on the four of them, his image was utterly besmirched. His parents, even though retired from public life, still had lectured him over his image, the effect of every small minutia of his life over the political climate of Khaleej. Even worse, his sister Mirah’s fiancé’s family was talking about canceling the match.
Conservative to the core, they didn’t believe he had a right to any kind of life, much less the kind of reckless debauchery the article hinted at. But that was not acceptable.
Ten years younger than he was, his sister had been a ray of sunshine in an otherwise solitary life. From their parents’ aloof, almost cold, upbringing, to the rigors of preparing for a political life, if not for Mirah, Zayn would have known no true joy. No companionship at all.
“Sheikh Al-Ghamdi?”
“My bride needs to be attractive and young. Attractive enough for me to be able to look at her for the next five decades. And healthy enough to have children. Someone not approaching or close to thirty.”
