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Sarah’s intense, dramatic and passionate stories will take you on a roller coaster of emotions!
“Sarah Morgan [creates] a dynamic and intense read.”
—Romantic Times
SARAH MORGAN trained as a nurse and has since worked in a variety of health-related jobs. Married to a gorgeous businessman who still makes her knees knock, she spends most of her time trying to keep up with their two little boys, but manages to sneak off occasionally to indulge her passion for writing romance. Sarah loves outdoor life and is an enthusiastic skier and walker. Whatever she is doing, her head is always full of new characters and she is addicted to happy endings.
Proud, passionate, primal— Dare she surrender to the sheikh?
Find rapture in the sands in Harlequin Presents ®
Look out for more stories of passion under the dry desert sun, coming soon!
Next month:
Favorite author Penny Jordan revisits the kingdom of Zuran for the final installment of her Arabian Nights saga:
Possessed by the Sheikh
#2457
Coming in June:
The Sheikh’s Virgin
by Jane Porter
#2473
In the Sheikh’s Marriage Bed
Sarah Morgan
www.millsandboon.co.uk
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PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
‘YOUR orders have been carried out, Your Highness—the debt to your people has been repaid in full.’
Staring out of the window of his office, Zak dragged his gaze away from his favourite Arab stallion who was causing havoc in the yard below.
Cold anger shimmered in his night-black eyes as he surveyed the man who had been his most trusted aide for almost two decades. ‘Not quite in full. The debt owed to me still stands. Was everything delivered to the Englishman?’
The man swallowed and bowed his head. ‘As instructed, Your Highness—’
Zak detected something in the other man’s tone and instantly his gaze sharpened. ‘He is attending the meeting, Sharif?’
Sharif paled slightly. ‘I have been informed that he is sending his sister in his place,’ he offered hesitantly, stepping backwards as he saw the flash of raw anger in the prince’s eyes.
So the Englishman had once again avoided his responsibilities, Zak mused grimly, flexing his broad shoulders in an attempt to release the mounting tension in his powerful frame. Sometimes he wished that Kazban were not such a progressive state. At times like this he would dearly love to return to his primitive, tribal roots and dispense the punishment that Peter Kingston so richly deserved.
Sharif cleared his throat. ‘Given the nature of the meeting, it is a somewhat surprising decision on his part. One wonders what sort of man sends a woman to fight his battles?’
‘A coward.’ Zak’s hard mouth tightened. By refusing to travel to Kazban, the Englishman had cleverly avoided being held accountable for his actions. ‘But then we already knew that Peter Kingston is a coward. So it hardly comes as that much of a surprise that he is prepared to sacrifice his own flesh and blood in an attempt to save his own skin. He is sending her into the lions’ den. I hope she is wearing armour.’
His chief adviser cleared his throat delicately. ‘He is doubtless hoping that you will show her leniency,’ he ventured and Zak gave a bitter laugh.
Had Peter Kingston known anything of his past then he wouldn’t have made such a serious error of judgment. His feelings towards the female sex were anything but gentle and forgiving. Life had taught him in the most brutal way possible that all women were manipulative and self-seeking and since learning that lesson he now treated them with the cynical contempt they deserved.
His dark eyes hardened. ‘The man is little more than a thief, although I admit a clever one. He has stolen the savings of innocent, hard working citizens. In his country that may be considered acceptable behaviour, but in Kazban fortunately we are not so foolish. In this instance I feel no inclination towards leniency.’
Sharif clasped his hands in front of him. ‘It is true that his actions would have caused untold hardship for many had it not been for your generous intervention, Your Highness. In my opinion your people should know that it is you who has—’
‘That is not important.’ Zak interrupted him, a frown touching his black brows as he paced the full length of his office, his tread muffled by the beautifully woven rug that covered the floor of the room. ‘What is important is that we send a clear message to others who might be tempted to follow the same dishonest course as Kingston. Clearly he anticipated reprisals and this is the reason that he has chosen not to attend the meeting himself. He is not only dishonest but he takes no responsibility for his own actions.’ His tone was contemptuous. ‘I intend to make an example of him.’
Sharif took a deep breath. ‘Sending his sister in his place is a clever move on his part. It is no secret that you enjoy the company of women, Your Highness,’ he offered tactfully and Zak’s eyes narrowed.
‘In my bed, Sharif,’ he said softly, his arrogant dark head lifting slightly as he surveyed his trusted adviser. ‘Outside my bed, women have no place in my life.’
He would never, ever trust a woman again.
Sharif shifted slightly, his sharp gaze suddenly sympathetic. ‘And yet your father is becoming more and more insistent that you marry, Your Highness.’
Zak gritted his teeth. ‘I am well aware of my father’s wishes,’ he said coldly and Sharif sighed.
‘You will doubtless say that I am exceeding my responsibilities,’ he ventured hesitantly, ‘but as one who has known and loved you from a boy, it saddens me to see you alone when you should be settled with a family.’
‘As you rightly say, you exceed your responsibilities.’ Zak’s tone remained icy but his dark gaze softened slightly as they rested on the older man. His adviser was one of the few people whom he would trust with his life. ‘Do not waste your emotions, Sharif. It is my choice to be alone but I’m well aware that my single status is becoming a thorn in my father’s side.’
And he was going to have to address the issue.
But not by marrying the woman that his father had in mind.
When the time came—and he was grimly aware that the time was upon him—he would select his own bride and his choice would be made totally without sentiment.
His hard mouth tightened. ‘Returning to the subject of Miss Kingston—’
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