Fiona Brand - The Sheikh's Pregnancy Proposal

“What things, exactly?”

He hesitated. “I’m already engaged to be married.”

Her jaw set. “If you got engaged so quickly, you must have known your fiancée.”

Gabe parked in her driveway. “No. It was an arranged marriage.”

Horror transfixed her. “So that’s why you slept with me. It was a last fling.”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“How was it, then?”

His gaze pinned hers for long seconds. “You know exactly how it was between us.”

Sarah stared at him, needing to see the truth in his eyes, feeling crazily emotional and on the verge of tears. “So how was it, exactly, between us?”

“Like this.” Gabe cupped her jaw and out of nowhere her heart began to pound and the humming, tingling attraction she’d fought to suppress shimmered through her.

He lowered his mouth, and foolishly she tossed away any thoughts of being sensible and controlled and let him kiss her.

The Sheikh’s

Pregnancy Proposal

Fiona Brand

www.millsandboon.co.uk

FIONA BRANDlives in the sunny Bay of Islands, New Zealand. Now that both her sons are grown, she continues to love writing books and gardening. After a life-changing time in which she met Christ, she has undertaken study for a bachelor of theology and has become a member of The Order of St. Luke, Christ’s healing ministry.

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To the Lord.

“Our Lord showed me an inward sight of His homely loving. I saw that He is everything that is good and comforting to us. He is our clothing. In His love He wraps us and holds us. He enfolds us in love and He will never let us go.”

—The Revelations of Divine Love , Julian of Norwich

Heartfelt thanks to Stacy Boyd for inspirational suggestions, patience and grace in editing.

It’s always a joy to work with you.

Contents

Cover

Excerpt “If you’re pregnant with my child, that changes things.” “What things, exactly?” He hesitated. “I’m already engaged to be married.” Her jaw set. “If you got engaged so quickly, you must have known your fiancée.” Gabe parked in her driveway. “No. It was an arranged marriage.” Horror transfixed her. “So that’s why you slept with me. It was a last fling.” “It wasn’t like that.” “How was it, then?” His gaze pinned hers for long seconds. “You know exactly how it was between us.” Sarah stared at him, needing to see the truth in his eyes, feeling crazily emotional and on the verge of tears. “So how was it, exactly, between us?” “Like this.” Gabe cupped her jaw and out of nowhere her heart began to pound and the humming, tingling attraction she’d fought to suppress shimmered through her. He lowered his mouth, and foolishly she tossed away any thoughts of being sensible and controlled and let him kiss her.

Title Page The Sheikh’s Pregnancy Proposal Fiona Brand www.millsandboon.co.uk

About the Author FIONA BRAND lives in the sunny Bay of Islands, New Zealand. Now that both her sons are grown, she continues to love writing books and gardening. After a life-changing time in which she met Christ, she has undertaken study for a bachelor of theology and has become a member of The Order of St. Luke, Christ’s healing ministry.

Dedication To the Lord. “Our Lord showed me an inward sight of His homely loving. I saw that He is everything that is good and comforting to us. He is our clothing. In His love He wraps us and holds us. He enfolds us in love and He will never let us go.” —The Revelations of Divine Love , Julian of Norwich Heartfelt thanks to Stacy Boyd for inspirational suggestions, patience and grace in editing. It’s always a joy to work with you.

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Extract

Copyright

One

Twenty-four hours away from the deadline to sign a marriage contract...

The stark thought shoved Sheikh Kadin Gabriel ben Kadir out of a restless sleep. Tossing crisp linen sheets aside, Gabe flowed to his feet and pulled on a pair of narrow dark jeans. The cool light of a New Zealand dawn flooded his suite, a floor above the Zahiri consulate in Wellington, as he broodingly considered the concept of once more entering into the intimacy of marriage.

Marrying a wealthy heiress would solve his country’s financial problems. The problem was, after the disaster of his last marriage, he had no desire to ever immerse himself in that particular hell again.

The morning air cool against his torso, he padded barefoot to the French doors and dragged aside heavy linen curtains. Dark gaze somber, he surveyed the gray rain drenching his last day of bachelor freedom. At that moment, like a fiery omen, the sun pierced the thick veil of storm clouds that hung over Wellington Harbour, illuminating a large painting of his twelfth-century ancestors, which dominated one wall of his suite.

Gabe studied the painting of the original Sheikh Kadin on whose birthday he’d had the bad luck to be born. A battle-hardened Templar Knight, Kadin’s main claim to fame was that he had taken someone else’s bride along with her diamond-encrusted dowry. The captured bride, Camille de Vallois, a slim redhead with dark exotic eyes, had then proceeded to entrance his ancestor to the point of obsession. Gabe’s stomach tightened at the remembrance of the obsession that had haunted his own youthful marriage, although in his case the possessive intensity hadn’t emanated from him.

Once they were married, Jasmine, his childhood sweetheart, had become increasingly clingy and demanding, dissolving into tears or throwing tantrums when she didn’t get her way. She had resented his busy work schedule, and had become convinced he was having affairs. When he had refused to start a family until their relationship was on a more even keel she had taken that as a sign that he regretted the marriage. The guilt she had inspired in him had taken on a haunting rawness when, after a tense exchange during a boat trip, Jasmine had stormed off in the yacht’s tender, overturned on rocks and drowned.

The memory of the icy salt water dashing off rocks as he had attempted to save Jasmine started a dull ache in the scar that marred one cheekbone, a permanent reminder of that day.

Legend said Gabe’s ancestor had a positive outcome to his passionate involvement with the woman he had married. Gabe’s experience had been such that he would not allow a woman to have that kind of power over him again. As far as he was concerned, passion had its place, but only in short, controllable liaisons. Love was another thing entirely; he would not be drawn into that maelstrom again.

A rap at the door of his suite was a welcome distraction. Shrugging into a T-shirt, he opened the door to his longtime friend and Zahir’s chief of security.

Xavier, who had just flown in from Zahir, strolled into the spacious lounge that adjoined Gabe’s bedroom and handed him an envelope. “Special delivery.”