with so much love and support.
‘The servants wait on him hand and foot,’ Kat commented. ‘You’ll have to watch that.’
‘I do. He tidies up his own toys. Zahir doesn’t want him spoiled the same way he was.’
‘The way your husband spoils you?’ Kat laughed, secure in the knowledge that Saffy was deliriously happy in Maraban.
‘Spoiling me gives Zahir a kick,’ Saffy confided with a grin, thinking of the vast selection of jewels and luxuries she was continually showered in.
More importantly, Saffy had found a real role to keep her busy in her husband’s country. She had participated in making a promotional film of Maraban and had impressed everybody with her skill as a presenter. But then she had thoroughly enjoyed the personalised tour of the various sites of interest with Zahir by her side and had become almost as knowledgeable about his country of birth as he was in the process. The warm welcome of the locals had increased her identification with Maraban as her new home. She had got involved with local charities, now sat on the board of the newest hospital in the city and regularly visited educational institutions. But most precious of all on her terms had been spending an entire week with Zahir and Karim at the orphanage school in South Africa, which she had long supported.
As a rule she usually went to London to see her sisters. Topsy was at university, studying hard and rarely free for more than a weekend, but Emmie often visited London to shop and the twins now got together as often as they could contrive it. Rediscovering her relationship with her sister meant a great deal to Saffy and the process was helped by the reality that both women now had much more in common.
Zahir strode through the door with Mikhail a mere step in his wake. Kat’s husband, a Russian billionaire, was currently advising the Marabani government on how best to invest the oil revenues that kept the country afloat. Zahir swept his son off the bike a split second before the child fell again.
‘He won’t stop trying,’ Saffy told her handsome husband. ‘He won’t give up. He’s so like you.’
‘But he has your eyes and impatience,’ Zahir remarked appreciatively as he set his squirming son down again and watched him head straight back to the demon bike that still wouldn’t do what he wanted it to do.
Zahir linked his fingers with Saffy and walked her out onto the terrace. Overhead the sun was sinking in a peach and orange blaze of colour and soon they would sit down to dinner by candlelight and talk long into the night. Just for a moment, even though she was very much enjoying having her sister and her husband as guests, she wished she were alone with Zahir.
He looked down at her with smouldering dark golden eyes and butterflies leapt in her tummy and her mouth ran dry. ‘We should get dressed for dinner,’ he murmured lazily.
A smile tugging at her lush lips, Saffy leant back against his lean powerful body in an attitude of complete trust, knowing they would end up in bed, loving the fact that he found it as hard to keep his hands off her as she did him. She was deliriously happy in her marriage and Karim’s arrival had enriched and deepened the ties between her and Zahir. ‘I love you,’ she whispered.
‘I love you too,’ Zahir purred, pressing his mouth hungrily to the base of her throat and making her shiver against him.
Kristi Gold
KRISTI GOLD has a fondness for beaches, baseball and bridal reality shows. She firmly believes that love has remarkable healing powers and feels very fortunate to be able to weave stories of love and commitment. As a bestselling author, a National Readers’ Choice Award winner and a Romance Writers of America three-time RITA® Award finalist, Kristi has learned that although accolades are wonderful, the most cherished rewards come from networking with readers. She can be reached through her website at www.kristigold.com or through Facebook.
To Bob … for giving me a quiet place to finish this book, and for showing me that new beginnings do happen when least expected.
If a woman wanted a trip to paradise, the gorgeous guy seated at the bar could be just the ticket. And Piper McAdams was more than ready to board that pleasure train.
For the past twenty minutes, she’d been sitting at a corner table in the Chicago hotel lounge, nursing a cosmopolitan while shamelessly studying the stranger’s assets, at least those she could readily see in the dim light. He wore an expensive silk navy suit, a pricey watch on his wrist and his good looks like a badge of honor. His dark brown hair seemed as if it had been intentionally cut in a reckless—albeit sexy—style, but it definitely complemented the slight shading of whiskers framing his mouth. And those dimples. She’d spotted them the first time he smiled. Nothing better than prominent dimples on a man, except maybe...
The questionable thought vaulted into Piper’s brain like a bullet, prompting her to close her eyes and rub her temples as if she had a tremendous headache. She chalked up the reaction to her long-standing membership in the Unintentional Celibacy Club. She wasn’t necessarily a prude, only picky. She certainly wasn’t opposed to taking sex out for a spin before saying, “I do,” in the context of a committed relationship. She simply hadn’t found the right man, though not from the lack of trying. But never, ever in twenty-six years had she considered ending her sexual drought with a complete stranger...until tonight.
The sound of laughter drew her gaze back to said stranger, where the pretty blond bartender leaned toward him, exposing enough cleavage to rival the Grand Canyon. Oddly, he continued to focus on Blondie’s face, until his attention drifted in Piper’s direction.
The moment Piper met his gaze and he grinned, she immediately glanced back to search for a bathroom or another blonde but didn’t find either one. When she regarded him again and found his focus still leveled on her, she started fiddling with her cell phone, pretending to read a nonexistent text.
Great. Just great. He’d caught her staring like a schoolgirl, and she’d just provided a big boost to his ego. He wouldn’t be interested in her, a nondescript, ridiculously average brunette, when he had a tall, well-endowed bombshell at his disposal. He could probably have any willing woman within a thousand-mile radius, and she wouldn’t be even a blip on his masculine radar. She took the mirror out of her purse and did a quick check anyway, making sure her bangs were smooth and her mascara hadn’t gone askew beneath her eyes.
And going to any trouble for a man like him was simply ridiculous. History had taught her that she more or less attracted guys who found her good breeding and trust fund extremely appealing. Nope, Mr. Hunky Stranger would never give her a second look....
“Are you waiting for someone?”
Piper’s heart lurched at the sound of his voice. A very deep, and very British, voice. After she’d recovered enough to sneak a peek, her pulse started to sprint again as she came up close and personal with his incredible eyes. Eyes that were just this shade of brown and remarkably as clear as polished topaz. “Actually, no, I’m not waiting for anyone,” she finally managed to say in a tone that sounded as if she was playing the frog to his prince, not the other way around.
He
