Charlene Sands - Saved by the Sheikh! / Million-Dollar Marriage Merger - Saved by the Sheikh! / Million-Dollar Marriage Merger

TESSA RADLEY

CHARLENE SANDS

www.millsandboon.co.uk

TESSA RADLEY

A blaze of possessiveness roared through him, the need to stake his claim, to mark her as his, now and forever.

He was aware of the fine tremors that shimmered through her, of the way his thigh fitted between hers and how the cradle of her hips rocked against him. The intoxicating scent and taste of her filled his senses.

He was aware of everything about her. Only her. The rest of the world receded.

He was so far gone that he didn’t care about control, about leashing it, about the fact that someone might walk back into the office and discover him alone with her, kissing her. There was just Tiffany … and him.

And she was going to marry him.

Only him.

TESSA RADLEYloves traveling, reading and watching the world around her. As a teen Tessa wanted to be an intrepid foreign correspondent. But after completing a bachelor of arts degree and marrying her sweetheart, she became fascinated by law and ended up studying further and practicing as a lawyer in a city firm.

A six-month break traveling through Australia with her family reawoke the yen to write. And life as a writer suits her perfectly—traveling and reading count as research, and as for analyzing the world … well, she can think “what if?” all day long. When she’s not reading, traveling or thinking about writing, she’s spending time with her husband, her two sons or her zany and wonderful friends.

Dear Reader,

Welcome back to the desert kingdom of Dhahara. If you read The Untamed Sheikh you would’ve got to know Shafir and would’ve met his brothers, Rafiq and Khalid. Part of the challenge I faced in this book was finding a heroine to match Rafiq. Megan was so popular with readers that I knew this heroine would have to be pretty unique.

So, for Saved by the Sheikh! I started off by searching for a name no one I knew owned. I came up with Tiffany. Hints of Breakfast at Tiffany’s. The glamour of Tiffany’s, the jeweler. I adored the softness and vulnerability the name also seems to possess. Utterly feminine and exquisitely beautiful.

Despite never having met a Tiffany in my life, within months of starting to write the story, I’d met three Tiffanys. The first was an aspiring writer who won a breakfast at the RWA Conference in Washington, DC, with myself and author Abby Gaines. The second was Tiffany Clare—who by some coincidence I met a day or so later also in DC—and whose debut historical romance, The Surrender of a Lady, has recently been released. The third Tiffany has the most wonderful name of all: Tiffany Light. When I told her that her name, without question, belonged to a romance heroine, Tiffany told me that her middle initial is D … Tiffany D. Light. Naturally, I wished I’d thought that up myself!

It’s moments like these that add so much fun and wonder to the world of being a writer. You never quite know what will happen next …

I hope you enjoy Tiffany and Rafiq’s story. Right now I’m thinking about who I’m going to match Khalid up with … and that promises to be a whole lot of fun.

Happy reading!

Tessa Radley

This is for the readers who wrote asking about

the fate of Shafir’s brothers, Rafiq and Khalid.

Rafiq’s story is for you. Enjoy!

A male hand beckoned through the swirling silvery wisps generated by a smoke machine.

Tiffany Smith squinted and located Renate leaning against the white marble bar flanked by two men. Relief kicked in. The Hong Kong club was crowded—and a lot busier than Tiffany had expected. The harsh, beating music and flashing strobe lights had disoriented her. And the spike of vulnerability she had experienced in the aftermath of having her bag snatched yesterday with her passport, credit card, traveler’s checks and cash returned full blast.

Picking up two cocktail menus, Tiffany headed through the mist for the trio. The older man was vaguely familiar. But it was the younger of the two men who watched her approach, his dark eyes cool, assessing—even critical. Tiffany switched her attention to him. He wore a dark formal suit and had a distant manner. Taking in the high cheekbones and bladed nose that gave his face an arrogant cast, she lifted her chin to stare boldly back at him.

“I’m not sure what Rafiq wants but Sir Julian would like a gin and tonic,” Renate said, smiling at the older man who must have been at least three inches shorter than she. “And I’ll have a champagne cocktail—the Hot Sex version.”

Sir Julian. Of course! That would make him Sir Julian Carling, owner of Carling Hotels. If this was the kind of clientele Le Club attracted, tips would be good.

“Sure I can’t get you something a little more adventurous?” Expensive, Tiffany appended silently as she passed the men the cocktail menus with her sweetest smile.

Not for the first time she thanked her lucky stars for the chance meeting with Renate when she’d checked into the hostel yesterday after her return from the police station and the embassy. Last night’s accommodation had used up her last twenty Hong Kong dollars.

This morning Renate had generously shared her breakfast cereal with Tiffany and offered to bring her along to Le Club tonight to make some quick cash as a hostess serving drinks.

It had been Renate who had showed her where the trays of “champagne cocktails” were kept. Lemonade. Cheap lemonade. For the hostesses. Geared at getting the well-heeled patrons to order and imbibe more of the elaborate, expensive cocktails with outrageously sexy names for which Le Club was apparently famed—as well as billing them for the hostesses’ over-priced lemonade cocktails. Tiffany had silenced her scruples. Renate had done her a favor. Anyway, Sir Julian seemed untroubled at the prospect of footing the bill for Renate’s bogus champagne cocktails.

It was none of her business, Tiffany told herself. She would keep her mouth shut and do as ordered. She was only here for the tips. For that she would smile until her face hurt. She glanced at the younger man, about to give him a glittering grin but his expression deterred her. His eyes were hooded, revealing none of his thoughts. Even in the crush of the club he seemed to create a ring of space around him. A no-go area.

She dismissed the thought as fanciful and forced a smile. “What can I get you to drink?”

“I’ll stick with the gin and tonic.” Sir Julian gave her a smile and passed back the cocktail menu.

“A Coca-Cola. Cold, please. With ice—if there’s any that hasn’t melted yet.” The man Renate had called Rafiq curved his lips upward, lighting up the harsh features and giving him a devastating charm that had Tiffany catching her breath in surprise.

He was gorgeous.

“Sh-sure, I’ll be right back,” she stuttered.

“We’ll be in one of the back booths,” said Renate.

Tiffany found them easily enough a few minutes later. She handed Renate and Sir Julian their drinks before turning to the man seated on the other side of the booth.

Rafiq, Renate had called him. It suited him. Foreign. Exotic. Quintessentially male. Wordlessly Tiffany passed him the soda, and the ice he’d requested rattled against the glass.