Lynn Harris - Carrying the Sheikh's Heir

The desert king’s reluctant bride!

She’d meant to have a baby for her sister, but an IVF clinic mix-up means party planner Sheridan Sloane is now carrying the heir of Rashid al-Hassan, the desert king of Kyr!

Rashid demands marriage, but Sheridan isn’t convinced—he’s sinfully sexy, but his heart is encased in ice. Yet Rashid will not give her a choice—he kidnaps her!

Swept away to the desert sands, Sheridan desires escape. But when Rashid takes her to his bed, she soon craves something else entirely…. Can she thaw this proud sheikh’s heart, or will she have to love enough for two?

“Miss Sloane, I think you misunderstand something about what’s going on here.”

Sheridan’s heart skipped. Why was Rashid so beautiful? And why was he such a contrast? He was fire and ice in one person. Hot eyes, cold heart. It almost made her sad. But why should it? She did not know him, and what she did know so far hadn’t endeared him to her.

“Do I?”

“Indeed. I am not Mr. Rashid.”

“Then who are you?”

He looked haughty and her stomach threatened to heave again. Because there was something familiar about that face, she realised. She’d seen it on the news a few weeks ago.

He spoke, his voice clear and firm and lightly accented. “I am King Rashid bin Zaid al-Hassan, the Great Protector of my people, Lion of Kyr and Defender of the Throne. And you, Miss Sloane, may be carrying my heir.”

HEIRS TO THE THRONE OF KYR

Two brothers, one crown, and a royal duty that cannot be denie…

The desert kingdom of Kyr needs a new ruler.

Prince Kadir al-Hassan, the Eagle of Kyr: the world’s most notorious playboy.

Prince Rashid al-Hassan, the Lion of Kyr: as dark-hearted as the desert itself.

These sheikh princes share the same blood, but they couldn’t be more different. So now there’s only one question on everyone’s lips…

Who will be crowned the new desert king?

Don’t miss this thrilling new duet from Lynn Raye Harris—where duty and desire collide against a sizzling desert landscape!

GAMBLING WITH THE CROWN

May 2014

CARRYING THE SHEIKH’S HEIR

July 2014

Carrying the Sheikh’s Heir

Lynn Raye Harris

www.millsandboon.co.uk

USA TODAY bestselling author LYNN RAYE HARRIS burst onto the scene when she won a writing contest held by Mills & Boon®. The prize was an editor for a year—but only six months later Lynn sold her first novel. A former finalist for the Romance Writers of America’s Golden Heart Award, Lynn lives in Alabama with her handsome husband and two crazy cats. Her stories have been called ‘exceptional and emotional’, ‘intense’ and ‘sizzling’.

You can visit her at www.lynnrayeharris.com

To my brainstorming partners, Jean Hovey and Stephanie Jones, who write together as Alicia Hunter Pace. They calmly listen to my ideas, toss out helpful suggestions, and don’t get offended when I don’t use a single one. And when I tell them there might be jackals, they reply that you can never have too many jackals. Thanks for having my back, ladies.

Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

EPILOGUE

EXTRACT

CHAPTER ONE

“A MISTAKE? HOW is this possible?”

King Rashid bin Zaid al-Hassan glared daggers at the stuttering secretary who stood in front of him. The man swallowed visibly.

“The clinic says they have made a mistake, Your Majesty. A woman...” Mostafa looked down at the note in his hand. “A woman in America was supposed to receive her brother-in-law’s sperm. She received yours instead.”

Rashid’s blood ran hot and then cold. He felt...violated. Rage coursed through him like a flame from a blast furnace, melting the ice around his heart for only a moment before it hardened again. He knew from experience that nothing could thaw that ice for long. In five years, nothing had penetrated the darkness surrounding him.

His hands clenched into fists on his desk. This was too much. Too outrageous.

How dare they? How dare anyone take that choice away from him? He wasn’t ready for a child in his life. He didn’t know if he would ever be ready, though eventually he had to provide Kyr with an heir. It was his duty, but he wasn’t prepared to do it quite yet.

The prospect of marrying and producing children brought up too many memories, too much pain. He preferred the ice to the sharpness of loss and despair that would envelop him if he let the ice thaw.

He’d obeyed the law that required him to deposit sperm in two banks for the preservation of his line, but he’d never dreamed it could go so horribly wrong. A random woman had been impregnated with his sperm. He could even now be an expectant father, his seed growing into a tiny life that could break him anew.

An icy wash of terror crested inside him, left him reeling in its wake. He would be physically ill in another moment.

Rashid pushed himself up from his chair and turned away so Mostafa wouldn’t see the utter desolation that he knew was on his face. This was not an auspicious beginning to his reign as Kyr’s king.

Hell, as if this was the only thing that had gone wrong. His stomach churned with fresh fury.

Since his father died two months ago and his brother abdicated before he’d ever been crowned, it was now Rashid’s duty to rule this nation. But nothing was the way it was supposed to be. As the eldest, he should have been the crown prince, but he’d been the despised son, a pawn in his father’s game of cat and mouse. In Kyr, the king could name his successor from amongst his sons. There was no law that said it had to be the eldest, though tradition usually dictated that it was.

But not for King Zaid al-Hassan. He’d been a cruel and manipulative man, the kind who ruled his sons—and his wives—with fear and harsh punishments. He’d dangled the possibility of the throne over his sons’ heads for far too long. Kadir had never wanted to rule, but it hadn’t mattered to their father. It was simply a way to control his eldest son. But Rashid had refused to play, instead leaving Kyr when he was twenty-five and vowing never to come back again.

He had come back, however. And now he wore a crown he’d never expected to have. His father, the old snake, was probably spinning in his grave right this minute. King Zaid had not wanted Rashid to rule. He had only wanted to hold out the hope of it before snatching the crown away in a final act of spite. That he’d died without naming his successor didn’t fill Rashid with the kind of peace that Kadir felt. Kadir wanted to believe their father had desired a reconciliation, and Rashid would not take that away from him.

But Rashid knew better. He’d had a lifetime of his father’s scorn and disapproval and he just simply knew better.

Yet here he was. Rashid’s gaze scanned the desert landscape, rolling over the sandstone hills in the distance, the red sand dunes, the palms and fountains that lined the ornate gardens of the palace. The sun was high and most people were inside at this hour. The horizon shimmered with heat. A primitive satisfaction rolled through him at the sight of all he loved.

He’d missed Kyr. He’d missed her perfumed night breezes, her blazing heat and her hardy people. He’d missed the call to prayer ringing from the mosque in the dawn hour, and he’d missed riding across the desert on his Arabian stallion, a hawk on his arm, hunting the small animals that were the hawk’s chosen prey.

Until two months ago, he’d not set foot in Kyr in ten years. He’d thought he never would again, but then his father had called with news of his illness and demanded Rashid’s presence. Even then, Rashid had resisted. For Kadir’s sake, he had finally relented.