12 Gifts for Christmas
His Christmas Captive
Caitlin Crews
A Christmas Refuge
Rebecca Winters
Naughty is Nice
Tawny Weber
The Bodyguard’s Bride
Brenda Harlen
Seduced by the Season
Merline Lovelace
Christmas Evie
Karen Templeton
Cherokee Christmas
Sheri Whitefeather
The GP’s Christmas Miracle
Alison Roberts
Wrapped and Ready
Julie Kenner
A Home for Christmas
Laura Marie Altom
Stroke of Midnight
Julie Kistler
Midnight Reunion
Anna Depalo
MILLS & BOON
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About the Author
CAITLIN CREWS discovered her first romance novel at the age of twelve. It involved swashbuckling pirates, grand adventures, a heroine with rustling skirts and a mind of her own, and a seriously mouthwatering and masterful hero. The book (the title of which remains lost in the mists of time) made a serious impression. Caitlin was immediately smitten with romances and romance heroes, to the detriment of her middle-school social life. And so began her lifelong love affair with romance novels, many of which she insists on keeping near her at all times.
Caitlin has made her home in places as far-flung as York, England, and Atlanta, Georgia. She was raised near New York City, and fell in love with London on her first visit when she was a teenager. She has backpacked in Zimbabwe, been on safari in Botswana, and visited tiny villages in Namibia. She has, while visiting the place in question, declared her intention to live in Prague, Dublin, Paris, Athens, Nice, the Greek islands, Rome, Venice, and/or any of the Hawaiian islands. Writing about exotic places seems like the next best thing to moving there.
She currently lives in California, with her animator/comic book artist husband and their menagerie of ridiculous animals.
Look for new novels from Caitlin in Mills & Boon®’s Modern™ series.
CHAPTER ONE
“I’M leaving you.” Lucy Qaderi forced the words out before she could convince herself not to say them. Even if she had not yet dared to turn around and say them to his face.
She’d sensed the moment he’d stepped into this opulent bedroom suite they had once shared, high up in the mountains over the tiny Eurasian country of Alakkul. His country.
She would know him anywhere, this brooding, ruthless man. Rafi Qaderi. The leader of his ancient family, responsible for maintaining the Qaderis’ many international interests and vast wealth while his celebrated cousin prepared to take over the throne of Alakkul from the ailing King Azat. Rafi was a financial wizard, a shrewd businessman. Noble and proud. Her husband.
“Thank you, Lucy.” His tone was dark, sardonic, with that undercurrent of patience sorely tried. “I was able to gather as much from your packed luggage in the front hall.”
She should hate him. At times, she did. And yet that voice moved over her like a wave of heat, making her feel itchy, her chest tight.
Lucy stared out the window. Fiercely. The great Alakkulian Valley was like something out of a fairy tale for a girl who’d grown up with nearly nothing in a small village near Manchester. The crystal-blue mountain lakes shimmered with ice, the bright fields were piled high with the latest December snowfall and far, far below was the rush and clatter of the ancient capital city, bristling with white-capped heights as it stretched out from the foot of the royal palace.
The Qaderis, Lucy thought, preferred to look down on the country they’d helped guide and rule for so many centuries from the remove of this house that was very near a fortress, so high above it all.
Just as Rafi looked down on her, and always had. She was a fool.
“Am I to discern secret messages from the way you present your back to me?” His tone was like a lash, rich and bitter, and she stiffened against it. “Or is it your silence that I should pay attention to this time?”
Hateful man. Hateful, beloved man. Lucy gathered her shaky courage as best she could, and turned to face him.
And wished she hadn’t. Seeing him was a blow. Hard, hot. Straight to her midsection.
Rafi lounged in the doorway, his mocking gray eyes trained on her, the expression on his implacable face grim. She was shocked anew by the power that emanated from him, like an electrical current. It made him seem much bigger—broader and taller than he already was—and he was dressed impeccably in a dark suit that clung to his lean, strong body. He was like some lethal angel, she thought wildly, all that ink-black hair and harsh black brows drawn low over his stormy eyes. She shivered in helpless reaction and her traitorous heart stuttered in her chest. She bit at her lower lip.
“Where exactly
