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About the Author
MICHELLE REID grew up on the southern edges of Manchester, the youngest in a family of five lively children. Now she lives in the beautiful county of Cheshire, with her busy executive husband and two grown-up daughters. She loves reading, the ballet and playing tennis when she gets the chance. She hates cooking, cleaning and despises ironing! Sleep she can do without and produces some of her best written work during the early hours of the morning.
Exotic Affairs
The Mistress Bride
Michelle Reid
The Spanish Husband
Michelle Reid
The Bellini Bride
Michelle Reid
Bridal Bargains
The Tycoon’s Bride
Michelle Reid
The Purchased Wife
Michelle Reid
The Price of a Bride
Michelle Reid
Italian Deception
The Salvatore Marriage
Michelle Reid
A Sicilian Seduction
Michelle Reid
The Passion Bargain
Michelle Reid
Hot-Blooded Husbands
The Sheikh’s Chosen Wife
Michelle Reid
Ethan’s Temptress Bride
Michelle Reid
The Arabian Love-Child
Michelle Reid
Love’s Revenge
The Italian’s Revenge
Michelle Reid
A Passionate Marriage
Michelle Reid
The Brazilian’s Blackmailed Bride
Michelle Reid
Rings of Gold
Gold Ring of Betrayal
Michelle Reid
The Marriage Surrender
Michelle Reid
The Unforgettable Husband
Michelle Reid
Exotic Affairs
The Mistress Bride
The Spanish Husband
The Bellini Bride
Michelle Reid
The Mistress Bride
Michelle Reid
CHAPTER ONE
IT WAS getting late. Almost too late to bother going anywhere now.
Yet Evie stood staring out at London’s twinkling night skyline without any outward signs of irritation. After all, there was nothing particularly unusual in her lover keeping her waiting like this; he did it all the time—duty being the altar at which he worshipped, usually at the expense of everything else in his life.
And that included his woman. Beautiful though she might be, special though he might insist she was to him, Evie knew she would always have to take second place to what was really important in his life.
So, like some priceless piece of life-size porcelain draped in sensual blood-red silk, she stood there in front of the drawing-room window in his very luxurious penthouse apartment—and waited. She waited for her man as she had been waiting for the last forty-five minutes now, calmly, patiently.
Or so it might seem, for it wasn’t in her nature to show what she was really feeling—a habit drummed into her by a very strict upbringing.
But only fools took that calmness at its serene-faced value.
Sheikh Raschid Al Kadah was nobody’s fool, but he wasn’t here to note the tell-tale signs to Evie’s real mood. And the one person who was attempting to keep her company rarely lifted his eyes high enough to read those signs.
He stood by the white marble fireplace with his hands quietly folded across his robed front and his tongue wisely silent, all attempts at polite conversation abandoned long ago, when apologetically late had become unforgivably late.
He caught her taking a quick glance at her slender gold wristwatch, though. ‘I am certain he cannot be many more minutes, Miss Delahaye,’ Asim assured her with that quietly soothing diplomatic voice of his. ‘Some things are, I am afraid, unavoidable, and a telephone call from his revered father is most definitely one of those things.’
Or a call from New
