Sharon Kendrick - The Sheikh's Virgin Stable-Girl

THE SHEIKH’S HEIR proved so popular with readers that it spent two weeks on the USA Today charts and…well, I could go on, but I’ll leave you to discover them for yourselves. I remember the first line of my very first book: “So you’ve come to Australia looking for a husband?” Actually, the heroine had gone to Australia to escape men, but guess what? She found a husband all the same! The man who inspired that book rang me up recently and when I told him I was beginning my 100 th story and couldn’t decide what to write, he said, “Why don’t you go back to where it all started?” So I did. And that’s how A ROYAL VOW OF CONVENIENCE was born. It opens in beautiful Queensland and moves to England and New York. It’s about a runaway princess and the enigmatic billionaire who is infuriated by her, yet who winds up rescuing her. But then, she goes and rescues him… Wouldn’t you know it? I’ll end by saying how very grateful I am to have a career I love, and to thank each and every one of you who has supported me along the way. You really are very dear readers. Love, Sharon xxx

About the Author SHARON KENDRICK once won a national writing competition, describing her ideal date: being flown to an exotic island by a gorgeous and powerful man. Little did she realise that she’d just wandered into her dream job! Today she writes for Mills & Boon, featuring her often stubborn but always to-die-for heroes and the women who bring them to their knees. She believes that the best books are those you never want to end. Just like life…

Title Page The Sheikh’s Virgin Stable-Girl Sharon Kendrick www.millsandboon.co.uk

Acknowledgements With special thanks to Charlie Brooks, Andrew Franklin and Jenny Hindmarsh for making me understand why people are so passionate about horses. And to Gerald O’Rourke for his advice on gambling.

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

Preview

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

THERE was no reason why a scorpion shouldn’t be lying dead on the ground—but not when Eleni had only just swept the yard. She stared down at its curved black shape and a certainty which defied logic whispered its way in a cold chill over her skin. It was an omen, surely. An evil portent—coming moments before her father’s mysterious guest arrived. She swallowed. For wasn’t desert legend full of signs as ominous as this?

‘Eleni!’

Her father’s shout echoed through the hot, still air and Eleni tensed as she tried to work out what kind of mood he was in. At least the tone was steady, which meant that he was sober, but it was impatient, too and her heart sank—for that could mean only one thing. That he was eager to begin his game of cards—and that his fellow players were growing impatient. Loud, laughing men who were stupid enough to gamble away everything they had worked for.

‘ Eleni! ’ The voice had now become a roar. ‘Where in the desert’s name are you?’

‘I am here, Papa!’ she said, quickly kicking the scorpion to a dusty grave in a small pile of sand outside the stables and then hurrying towards the house, where Gamal Lakis stood waiting in the doorway. His wizened and sunburnt face was sour as he looked her up and down.

‘What are you doing that keeps you away from the house and your duties?’ he criticised.

It was pointless telling him that she had just come from the stables, where she had been speaking softly to his beloved horses. And that such constant care and vigilance kept them in prized and peak condition—making Gamal Lakis one of the most envied men in this desert kingdom. She knew from experience that there was no explanation that would ever satisfy this most discontented of men.

‘I’m sorry, Papa,’ she said automatically, lowering her gaze to the ground before looking up once more to flash him a reassuring smile. ‘I will come and bring refreshment to your guests immediately.’

‘No, no. We cannot yet drink, nor eat the food which has been prepared,’ said her father unexpectedly. ‘For we await the arrival of our guest of honour.’ His faded eyes glinted and he gave a rare and crafty smile. ‘And do you know who this guest is, Eleni?’

She shook her head. The visit had been shrouded in mystery for days now, but Eleni knew that it was not her place to ask. Women were told when men deemed that the time was right and not before, especially in households like theirs. ‘No, Papa, I do not know.’

‘No less than one of the most important men in the whole of Calista!’ he boasted. ‘I wonder if you would like to make a guess just who that might be?’

Eleni took her cue, asking him the question he clearly wished to be asked, though his wild extravagance was now making her wonder whether her father was quite as sober as she had first thought.

‘Won’t you tell me who he is, Papa—so that I may wait on him with due deference when he arrives at our home?’

Gamal’s thin lips gave another wet and triumphant smile, pausing like a man who held the trump card in a high-bidding game. ‘What would you say, my daughter—if I told you that a royal prince was coming to the home of your father?’

She would say that he had been drinking, after all. But never to his face, of course. If Papa was having one of his frequent flights of fancy then it was always best to play along with it.

Eleni kept her face poker-straight. ‘A royal prince, Papa?’ she questioned gravely.

‘Yes, indeed!’ He pushed his face forward. ‘The Prince Kaliq Al’Farisi,’ he crowed, ‘is coming to my house to play cards with me!’

Her father had gone insane! These were ideas of grandeur run riot! And what was Eleni to do? What if he continued to make such idle boasts in front of the men who were sitting, waiting to begin the long night of card-playing? Surely that would make him a laughing stock and ruin what little reputation he had left.

‘Papa,’ she whispered urgently. ‘I beg you to think clearly. What place would a royal prince have here ?’

But she was destined never to hear a reply, even though his mouth had opened like a puppet—for there came the sound of distant hooves. The steady, powerful thud of horses as they thundered over the parched sands. On the still, thick air the muffled beat grew closer and louder until it filled Eleni’s ears like the sound of the desert wolves which howled at the silver moon when it was at its fullest.

Towards them galloped a clutch of four horses, and as Eleni watched, one of them broke free and surged forwards like a black stream of oil gushing out of the arid sand. For a moment, she stood there, transfixed—for this was as beautiful and as reckless a piece of riding as she had ever witnessed.

Illuminated by the orange gold of the dying sun, a colossus of a man could be seen, with an ebony stallion between his thighs as he urged it on with a joyful shout. The man’s bare head was as dark as the horse he rode and his skin gleamed like some bright and burnished metal. Robes of pure silk clung to the hard sinews of his body and as he approached Eleni could see a face so forbidding that some deep-rooted fear made her wonder if he had the power to turn to dust all those who stood before him.

And a face so inherently beautiful that it was as if all the desert flowers had bloomed at once.

It was then that Eleni understood the full and daunting truth. Her father’s bragging had been true for riding towards their humble abode was indeed Prince Kaliq Al’Farisi. Kaliq the daredevil, the lover of women, the playboy, the gambler and irresponsible twin son of Prince Ashraf. The man, it was said, could make women moan with pleasure simply by looking at them.

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