Susan Mallery: The Sheikh and the Christmas Bride

“I am Prince As’ad of ElDeharia. That is all you needto know.”

Kayleen looked him in the eye. “You have to give your word that you’ll be a good father, caring more for their welfare than your own. You’ll love them and listen to them and not marry them off to anyone they don’t love.”

“I will be a good father,” As’ad said. “I will care for them and see that they are raised with privileges that go with being the daughter of a prince.”

She frowned. “That wasn’t what I asked.”

“It is what I offer. I have said they will be as my daughters, Miss James. You test my patience.”

She stared at him. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“I can see that. Are we finished here?”

She smiled, her eyes twinkling. “I’m not sure. In a way, I think we’re just beginning.”

SUSAN MALLERY

is a bestselling and award-winning author of more than fifty books. She makes her home in the Los Angeles area with her handsome prince of a husband and her two adorable-but-not-bright cats.

Dear Reader,

I confess, I love Christmas romances. I haunt the bookshops every November and December, buying every one I can find. There’s nothing more romantic than falling in love during the holidays.

I also have a soft spot in my heart for the sheikh books I write. To me they are pure escapist fun into a world of sexy, dangerous men just ready to be tamed by loving the right woman. The Sheikhand the Christmas Bride is no exception, and this time there is the added thrill of the holiday season.

Kayleen grew up in an orphanage, so she desperately wants to belong. Prince As’ad grew up with every privilege, but still has an empty place in his heart. Three little girls, unexpected passion and even a Christmas miracle create what I hope is a story that brings the holiday season alive for you.

Happy reading,

Susan Mallery

SUSAN MALLERY

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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“This is an impossible situation,” King Mukhtar of El Deharia announced as he paced the width of his private chambers.

Princess Lina watched her brother, thinking it would be impossible for him to pace the length of his chambers—the room was so big, she would probably lose sight of him. Ah, the trials of being king.

Mukhtar spun back unexpectedly, then stalked toward her. “You smile. Do you find this amusing? I have three sons of marriageable age. Three! And has even one of them shown interest in choosing a bride and producing heirs? No. They are too busy with their work. How did I produce such industrious sons? Why aren’t they out chasing women and getting girls pregnant? At least then we could force a marriage.”

Lina laughed. “You’re complaining that your sons are too hardworking and that they’re not playboys? What else is wrong, my brother? Too much money in the treasury? Do the people love you too much? Is the royal crown too heavy?”

“You mock me,” he complained.

“As your sister, it is not just my privilege, it’s my duty. Someone needs to mock you.”

He glared at her, but she was unimpressed. They had grown up together. It was hard to find awe in the man when one had seen the boy with chicken pox.

“This is serious,” he told her sternly. “What am I to do? I must have heirs. I should have dozens of grandchildren by now and I have not a single one. Qadir spends his time representing our country to the world. As’ad deals with domestic issues so our people have a thriving economy. Kateb lives his life in the desert, celebrating the old ways.” Mukhtar grimaced. “The old ways? What is he thinking?”

“Kateb has always been a bit of a black sheep,” Lina reminded the king.

Her brother glared at her. “No son of mine is a sheep. He is powerful and cunning like a lion of the desert or a jackal.”

“So he is the black jackal of the family.”

“Woman, you will not act this way,” Mukhtar roared in a fair imitation of a lion.

Lina remained unimpressed. “Do you see me cowering, brother? Have you ever seen me cowering?”

“No, and you are poorer for it.”

She covered her mouth as she pretended to yawn.

His gaze narrowed. “You are intent only on your own amusement? You have no advice for me?”

“I do have advice, but I don’t know if you’ll like it.”

He folded his arms across his chest. “I’m listening.”

Not according to his body language, Lina thought humorously. But she was used to her brother being imperious. Having him ask for her advice was a big step for him. She should go with it.

“I have been in communication with King Hassan of Bahania,” she said.

“Why?”

She sighed. “This will go much faster if you don’t interrupt me every thirty seconds.”

Mukhtar raised his eyebrows but didn’t speak.

She recognized the slightly stubborn expression. He thought he was being protective and concerned, making sure she was kept safe from the evilness of the world. Right. Because the very handsome king of Bahania was so likely to swoop down and ravish her forty-three-year-old self.

Not that she would say no to a little ravishing, she thought wistfully. Her marriage had ended years before when her beloved husband had died unexpectedly. She’d always meant to remarry and have a family, but somehow that had never happened. She’d been busy being an aunt to Mukhtar’s six boys. There had been much to do in the palace. Somehow she’d never found the time…or a man who interested her.

Until Hassan. The widower king was older, but vital and charming. Not to mention, he was the first man who had caught her attention in years. But was he intrigued by her? She just couldn’t tell.

“Lina,” her brother said impatiently, “how do you know Hassan?”

“What? Oh. He and I spent time together a couple of years ago at a symposium on education.” She’d met the king formally at state events dozens of times, but that had been the first occasion she’d had to speak with him for more than five minutes. “He also has sons and he has been very successful in getting them all married.”

That got her brother’s interest. “What did he do?”

“He meddled.”

Mukhtar stared at her. “You’re saying…”

“He got involved in their personal lives. He created circumstances that brought his sons together with women he had picked. Sometimes he set up roadblocks, sometimes he facilitated the relationship. It all went well.”

Mukhtar lowered his arms to his sides. “I am the king of El Deharia.”

“I know that.”

“It would be inappropriate for me to behave in such a manner.”

Lina held in a smile—she already knew what was coming. “Of course it would.”

“However, you do not have my restrictions of rank and power.”

“Isn’t that amazing.”

“You could get involved. You know my sons very well.” His gaze narrowed. “You’ve been thinking about this for some time, haven’t you?”