The Sheikh King's Chosen queen

04. Getting To Know Your Enemy

"It's a perfect match. "

The doctor had confirmed over the phone minutes ago, while she stared at the DNA print out.

She hadn't doubt that Beau was the son of the Sheikh King of Zazaar. And heir to the throne of a wealthy Arab nation.

Just by looking at Beau anyone would tell that. But it was instinctive to know. To confirm.

It was one thing to be injected with semen from an unknown man and quite another to have met that said man.

And what a man he was, she now looked at a picture of him, Murat bin Alzaar El Sahd Zazaar

"The Magnificent." "The Lion of Zazaar".

The Billionaire Golden Prince.

The list went on and on.

By the wall of windows, she stood facing the view of New York City. It all loomed before her. Skyscrapers, and the busy streets. The Lady Liberty sat in the horizon a beacon of hope and dreams. Yet she wasn't looking at the stunning attractions so far in mind she was.

Chanteel was grasping the fact that her son was heir to the throne of Zazaar. Her son.

She sat down again and re-opened the file Stella had put together. She found herself returning to it. She was hoping to find a way to avoid this. Yet hadn't so far.

.

The kingdom of Quram Zazaar was one of the wealthiest Arabian countries found along the coast of the Middle East and North Africa jutting into the Mediterranean Sea.

It had ties to several royal European principalities and Middle Eastern Kingdoms. Not to mention it was a hot spot for the wealthy and famous. It seemed that every jet setter was making their way into Quram Sahd, the prosperous city known for its thriving attractions and parties.

It was not a pile of sand as she had thought. Though the country was 60 percent desert, it's beaches were considered some of the best in the world. Its opera house was known to Zazaar was the Eiffel Tower was to Paris. She hadn't been expecting that. In fact, she had thought the place would be packed sand and pitched tents. Goes to show one must not jump to assumptions.

Which was odd, for Chanteel was a by the fact kind of woman. It was just something about the man that got under her skin. That and the simple truth that he was the only man her body wanted.

It made matters worse. He was after her son and was hell-bent on getting him. This was time for planning and getting her self prepared to fight. Instead, she wanted to f**k the man.

Not that in itself was hard to contemplate. From the file, Stella gathered the man was a walking chic magnet. He was seen all around the world from Chile to Antarctica always with some woman. Always some beautiful doctor, socialite, politician, and princesses. European models, a few Hollywood idols and bad girls. Latinas, Asians. White. Black.

He was vastly accomplished and sort after. One of the most eligible bachelors in the world.

She was no way that experienced. And felt dread just thinking of her problem. Her inability to have s*x had been the major cause for all her relationships to fail.

What man wanted a woman he can't make love to? Who was unable to be aroused?

Not one

She paled in comparison to him.

The list of models was shocking and endless. A few she has met and represented legally. Never the same one for long. In fact, looking at the timelines in the file, his relationships lasted no longer than a couple of weeks.

Chanteel hoped he was more committed to fatherhood than he was to his relationships.

And he had the audacity to even assume she would marry him.

Like hell, she would.

She wasn't the kind of woman who turned a blind eye to a bed-hopping husband.

OK. Getting way ahead here ain't you?

She wasn't even considering marrying him. He only wanted Beau and would do anything to get him, even marrying her, a woman he didn't want. Who was unfit and unworthy to be his wife.

Yeah right.

The bastard better watch out. He may just get what he was asking for and much more.

Unfit and unworthy my ass.

He was messing with a ninth generation Mahogany. One of the eldest, proudest Black families in America!

His high handedness and arrogance go to prove just how easy he had his every wish, thought and demand answered without question.

She scolded herself for letting him rile her up. Getting back to the matter at hand. She scanned the rest of the file, Zazaar history, turbulent but beautiful. And it's economic standing.

Having become a United nation eighty years ago after years, no centuries, of wars between its four bordering Sheikhdoms, the Kingdom of Zazaar had moved from an independent country to a global magnet. With its wealth centralized in oil, spices, precious gems and gold, Zazaar was also a member of the UN and the UAN.

Then there was the royal family. A large extended one. Aunts and uncles with over four dozen cousins. And at its head Murat himself.

The file on him was thick as Stella had found a clipping of everything the man had been reported on. And the press loved him.

Chanteel had been surprised that he had become King as a child. Age eight after the deaths of his parents in a boating accident that also claimed the lives of twenty people including his twin sisters who had been three years old.

She had been also surprised to learn that Ahasif had been his Council since he took the throne. Chanteel recalled the man who had looked at her like she was dirt beneath his feet.

She really didn't like him. And for saw him as a problem.

Murat, as she read on, had been extensively educated in both England and Zazaar. An avid Polo player and skilled horseman who had won many championships, and an international icon and respected businessman. He was a Billionaire several times over by his own right, have developed some strain of bio-organic wheat and corn that grew in the desert. Apparently, it was revolutionary and several countries had adopted the procedure with great success. The country was leading when it came to the fight for Climate resilience and change, spearheading Information Technology enhanced agriculture techniques for harsher temperatures, such as Hydroponics.

Chanteel was amazed at his accomplishments. Here she had thought her self an over achiever but the desert King put her to shame. She had thought him to be a pampered, spoiled playboy when in fact that was so far from the truth. He was vastly educated. Spoke eleven languages fluently and had several degrees in business, finance, bio-agriculture, and music.

Music!

What?

Who the hell was this man.?

The more she read she was beginning to dislike him even more.

Damn.

OK. So he wasn't a spoiled pampered man who hadn't have to work a hard day in his life. The man even served time in the air force. Zazaar Royal Armed Air force that is.

She was seriously disliking him.

She shut the file and glanced at her watch. It was almost time for her to leave. Chanteel needed to figure out her next move. As she stood her cell phone began to ring. Seeing the unfamiliar local number she frowned and answered.

" Chanteel Banks. '

"Have you decided yet? "

Her number was not registered. And only a handful of people knew it. Not even Lysette.

She wondered what channels he must have gone through to get it. Again considering the man, she didn't doubt he could get anything he wanted. Which was bad news for her? He was going to be a problem since he was used to getting his way. Never being questioned, challenged. Used to winning.

Unfortunately for him so did she.

"I haven't. "

Murat knew she delaying, hoping he would just give up and leave. When was she going to understand that he was going nowhere without his son?

It has been three days since their meeting, and he hasn't gotten over her. He wanted her. As simple as that. He had thought to seduce her would get her to cooperate with him. But removed the idea from his mind.

He didn't want to seduce her like any other woman he considered taking to bed. Though it would be done with the most pleasure achieved. Then it would be over and done it. He lost interest in his bedmates as he cooled. He only wanted s*x. And got it and end of story.

Now he doubted he will ever be satisfied that way again, not where Chanteel was concerned.

No.

His mind was made up.

What he wanted was for Chanteel Banks to surrender willingly. To give her self to him completely and freely.

Until she did, he will never be content.

" May I ask why not? "

He believed his approach in winning her would be one of the hardest things he may ever set out to accomplish. But he wasn't against hard work. And two things he loved best. A good challenge to put his mind to work. And a woman.

Chanteel was both...

" I am uncertain of how to proceed. How did you get my number anyway? "

" I have my ways. I must admit for a high profile lawyer you do live a secured life, " she personally kept out of the spotlight. And Murat felt it had more reason behind it than just their son's safety.

" I like it that way, " she said ." Besides when you grow up as I did, privacy becomes a luxury "

" Ah yes. I do understand " Chanteel was again reminded of whom this man was.

A freaking King.

" Why don't we discuss the details tonight, over dinner. "

" I would think under the circumstances you would rather remain out of the public eye. "

" Why should I? It's not as if I am trying to keep anything a secret. Eventually, the world would know of Beau. He is my son. My heir and future king of Zazaar. Besides I want to see you. "

" To discuss our son. "

" Yes of course "

That too. But since meeting her face to face he couldn't shake the way he felt. He wanted to see here again.

" Why not?. Better to get this over with. Where and what time? " he gave her the name of one of the city best restaurants.

" I'll see you then"