b0c8-0484-5919-b886-349090dd6807">
“Any woman can share her body with you,” Olivia said, her tone dismissive. “Very few have the benefit of royal training.”
Tarek’s expression barely changed. Just a flicker in his eyes that was nearly imperceptible. “You think I might find value in that?”
“Unless you want the country you’ve spent so much of your life protecting to burn, I think you will. There is an entirely different manner of strength that is coveted in politics.”
“I don’t have to marry you to receive the benefit of your training.”
“It’s true. You don’t. And perhaps that’s a good place for us to start.”
“I can promise you a marriage between the two of us would be nothing like the one you shared with your first husband.”
She didn’t doubt it.
“Give me one month. I will help you with the finer points, and we can engage in a kind of courtship. A bit of something for the media, something for your people. If it doesn’t work out there is no harm. But if it does…”
He stood abruptly, his movements fluid. It reminded her of the strike of a viper. So still in the moment just before the fatal hit was administered. Over before you ever knew it had occurred.
“Dowager Queen Olivia of Alansund, we have an accord. You have thirty days to convince me that you are indispensable. If you are successful, I will make you my wife.”
MAISEY YATES is a USA TODAY bestselling author of more than thirty romance novels. She has a coffee habit she has no interest in kicking, and a slight Pinterest addiction. She lives with her husband and children in the Pacific Northwest. When Maisey isn’t writing she can be found singing in the grocery store, shopping for shoes online, and probably not doing dishes. Check out her website: maiseyyates.com.
Bound to the
Warrior King
Maisey Yates
Elyse and Elizabeth, I blame you for this book…
I mean, I thank you for this book. It was as fun as I thought it would be.
Contents
SHE WAS FRAIL. And pale. Her blond hair pulled back into a tight and elegant bun, the long sleeves of her dress and the hem that brushed the floor were likely an attempt at sparing her European skin from the full brunt of the Taharan sun.
It would not do. A few moments out in the environment he’d spent his past decade in and she would perish.
Nothing more than a white lily drying on the sand until she returned back to the dust, sent away on the next dry, hot breeze.
Whatever advisor had imagined she would make a suitable wife for the Sheikh of Tahar was clearly yet another man he needed to have removed from his position.
When it came to his staff, Tarek’s needs were not Malik’s. As was becoming clearer and clearer every day.
A political alliance. That was what this potential marriage had been called. As Tarek knew nothing of politics he’d been more than willing to investigate the possibilities of the union.
But no. Seeing her now... It would not stand.
“Take her away from my sight,” Tarek said.
She looked up, her expression smooth yet shot through with steel. “No.”
He arched a brow. “No?”
“I cannot leave here.”
“Certainly you can. The same way you came in.” It was he who could not leave. He who could not go back and seek the solace of the desert.
He, who had been kept in isolation for most of his life, who now had to find a way to rule a population of millions.
She
