Pursued by the Desert Prince(31)

As his mouth slid down her throat, he lifted his head and frowned at her bare neck. "No panic button."

"I wasn't going to put one on for you."

"Even though I intend to steal you from your family?"

"That part will be hard for me," she admitted. "It's good I'll have time  to do that in stages. But there are times when I'm impatient, you  know." She loved the feel of his stubble against her palm and absolutely  had to trace his bottom lip with her thumb. "I don't want to go to a  hotel," she whispered.         

     



 

"No?" He was reading the hunger in her and answering with a growing heat  in his own gaze. He shifted so he was between her legs, pressing his  hardest flesh against her softest.

"It will take too long to drive there and have it scouted. I want to sneak you into my bedroom so you can ravish me there. Now."

He pulled away, drawing her up as he went. "See how good you are at  encouraging me to compromise? Lead the way, my beautiful future wife."





EPILOGUE

Two months later...

ANGELIQUE WAS ALWAYS happiest when her whole family was together, but  she felt a little guilty for being so happy today. It was her engagement  party, however, so she was entitled to be elated.

And it wasn't a huge party, which made her even happier. Just those  closest to them gathered at Sus Brazos for a weekend to celebrate what  amounted to a secret engagement since they weren't officially announcing  it for another few months.

She was making other people happy with this small party, too. Sadiq and  Hasna were here and Jamal had just arrived with his partner. Kasim was  sequestered with the four of them while his brother and sister took a  few minutes to reunite in person after being in touch again since the  wedding.

It gave Angelique a few minutes to study her sister, who was arguing  heatedly with Ramon on the far side of the pool. Of the four of them,  those two were the only combination to descend into yelling matches.  They weren't there yet, but it was only a matter of time before one of  them completely lost their temper and pushed the other into the water to  cool off, evening clothes notwithstanding.

The way Henri was glaring at them, it might very well be both of them taking a swim-by his hand.

"What's going on?" Kasim asked, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist.

"They have Mama's hot Spanish blood." She leaned back into him. "Henri  and I have our father's French temperament, you lucky duck. Our silence  speaks volumes. Their volume does."

"What are they fighting about?"

"Unclear and probably not important," she said with a fatalistic sigh.  She suspected Trella had picked this fight to let off steam. Her sister  was troubled. Angelique had been feeling it, but couldn't do a thing  about it. Trella was being that delightfully frustrating shade of her  true self: stubborn and ferociously independent.

She had even come up with a plan to transition Angelique from the  day-to-day operations at Maison des Jumeaux, while allowing her to keep  her foot in the door, submitting designs and indulging her artistry  around her duties as queen-oh, she would never fully grasp that!

Trella was determined for Angelique to move on with her life without  feeling held back. It made Angelique wistful, even though she was also  grateful. She loved Kasim so very much and wanted to be with him without  guilt.

"How is Hasna?" She turned in his arms to ask the question.

"Good. They'll be out in a moment, but I couldn't wait to show you... Come here."

He pulled her a little farther along the veranda to a corner where the  light was soft and the view was nothing but starry night and glittering  sea. The fragrance off the early summer blooms came up from the garden  below and the warm air caressed her bare shoulders and calves.

She had a feeling she knew what he wanted to show her, but was still  overcome as her future husband caressed her arms before he went down on  one knee.

"Angelique, my love."

"Oh! You don't have to do that." She instantly choked up and lost sight of him behind a film of emotive tears.

"Arrêtez," she heard Henri growl at her siblings, receiving instant silence. She suspected they were being watched.

She was never comfortable as the center of attention, but she looked  into the face of the man she loved and knew he would keep her safe no  matter what.

"Will you marry me?" He showed her the ring that Jamal had made, the one  she had been holding her breath to see. Now, in this deeply moving  moment, she couldn't make herself look away from the love in Kasim's  eyes.

"You know I will. I love you with everything in me. Please." She waved for him to rise. He was a king after all.

He did, suddenly tall and close. He slid the ring on her shaking hand  and handed her his handkerchief so she could clear her vision enough to  fall in love with the hint of a feathered design cut into the band.  Claws like talons held a stunning round diamond. It was simple and  elegant, pretty, but imbued with the fierceness of her husband while  conveying that he did know her very well and longed to please her.

"I love it."

"I love you." He cupped her chin and kissed her tenderly. "This time  next year we will marry in Zhamair. It's far too long to wait, but this  is a step in the right direction."         

     



 

A small burst of applause made them both glance in that direction and  she blushed to discover not just her mother and siblings, but Jamal and  his partner, Hasna and Sadiq, all beaming at them.

They would marry in a ceremony that would be big and overwhelming, and  her life would be equally huge and daunting, but she would have these  cherished people to help her through it.

And this man. She looked up at Kasim, her other half. Not her  reflection, but her complement. Curling her arms around his neck, she  went up on tiptoes to kiss him.

 * *





EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT

The Temporary Mrs. Marchetti

by Melanie Milburne

CHAPTER ONE

THE FIRST THING Alice noticed when she came to work that morning was the  letter on her desk. Something about the officious-looking envelope with  its gold embossed insignia made her skin shrink against her skeleton.  Letters from lawyers always made her feel a little uneasy. But then she  looked closer at the name of the firm. Why would a firm of Italian  lawyers be contacting her?

She picked the letter up and her breath came to a juddering halt when she saw it was postmarked Milan.

Cristiano Marchetti lived in Milan.

Alice's fingers shook as if she had some sort of movement disorder.  Surely he hadn't...died? A sharp pain sliced through her, her breath  coming in short, erratic bursts, making not just her fingers tremble but  her whole body.

Oh, no. Oh, no. Oh, no.

How had she missed that in the press? Surely there would have been an  announcement for someone with Cristiano's public profile? They reported  every other thing he did. The glamorous women he dated. The fading  hotels he bought and rebuilt into stunning boutique accommodation all  over the Mediterranean. The charity events he attended. The parties. The  nightclubs. Cristiano couldn't change his shirt or shoes or socks  without someone reporting it in the press.

Alice peeled open the envelope, her eyes scanning the brief cover  letter, but she couldn't make any sense of it...or maybe that was  because her brain was scrambled with a host of unbidden memories.  Memories she had locked away for the last seven years. Memories she  refused to acknowledge-even in a weak moment-because that was the  pathway to regret and that was one journey she was determined never to  travel. Her legs were so unsteady she reached blindly for her chair and  sat down, holding the document in front of her blurry gaze.

But wait...

It wasn't Cristiano who had died. It was his grandmother, Volante  Marchetti, the woman who, along with his late grandfather Enzo, had  raised him since he was orphaned at the age of eleven when his parents  and older brother had been killed in an accident.

Alice frowned and cast her gaze over the thick document that had come  with the cover letter that named her as a beneficiary of the old woman's  will. But why had his grandmother mentioned her in her will? Why on  earth would the old lady do that? Alice had only met Cristiano's  grandmother a handful of times. Volante Marchetti had been a feisty old  bird with black raisins for eyes and a sharp intellect and an even  sharper sense of humour. She had instantly warmed to the old lady,  thinking at the time of how lucky Cristiano was to have a grandmother so  spritely and fun, and had often thought of her since.

Maybe his grandmother had left her a trinket or two-a keepsake to mark  their brief friendship. A piece of jewellery or one of the small  watercolour paintings Alice remembered admiring at the old lady's villa  in Stresa. She began to read through the legalese with her heart doing  funny little skips. So many words... Why did lawyers have to sound as if  they'd swallowed a dictionary?