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Winter will be over soon and we have new books guaranteed to put a spring in your step! Lose yourself in an absorbing read from Harlequin Presents….
Travel to sophisticated European locations and meet sexy foreign men. In The Greek’s Chosen Wife by Lynne Graham, see what happens when gorgeous Greek Nikolas Angelis decides to make his convenient marriage real. The Mancini Marriage Bargain by Trish Morey is the conclusion of her exciting duet, THE ARRANGED BRIDES—we brought you the first book, Stolen by the Sheikh, last month.
Fly to more distant lands for Sandra Marton’s UNCUT story, The Desert Virgin. Feel the heat as ruthless troubleshooter Cameron Knight rescues innocent ballerina Leanna DeMarco. If you haven’t read an UNCUT story before, watch out—they’re almost too hot to handle!
If you like strong men, you’ll love our new miniseries RUTHLESS. This month in The Billionaire Boss’s Forbidden Mistress by Miranda Lee, a boss expects his new receptionist to fall at his feet, and is surprised to find she’s more of a challenge than he thought. Lucy Monroe’s latest story, Wedding Vow of Revenge, promises scenes of searing passion and a gorgeous hero.
The Royal Marriage by Fiona Hood-Stewart is a classic tale of a young woman who has been promised in marriage to a royal prince. Only she’s determined not to be ruled by him and her declaration of independence begins in the bedroom!
We hope you enjoy reading this month’s selection. Look out for brand-new books next month!
We’ve captured a slice of royal life in our miniseries
Kings, counts, dukes and princes…
Don’t miss these stories of charismatic kings, commanding counts, demanding dukes and playboy princes. Read all about their privileged lives, love affairs…even their scandals!
Let us treat you like a queen—relax and enjoy our regal miniseries.
Look out for more stories in this miniseries—coming soon!
The Royal Marriage
Fiona Hood-Stewart
All about the author…
Fiona Hood-Stewart
Born in Scotland and brought up internationally, Fiona went to boarding school in Switzerland, and then to several European universities. When Fiona married, she moved to South America where she ran her own design business before turning to fashion, for which she created her own label and opened several boutiques in Brazil and the U.S.
However, like the characters in her novels, Fiona has always been mystically drawn back to Scotland. In fact her family home served as the inspiration for Dunbar in her MIRA novel The Journey Home. She is well acquainted with all the locales that are visited in all her novels, which she infuses with her own life experiences. As she speaks seven languages fluently, Fiona has a unique insight and exposure into customs and lifestyles of foreign countries.
Fiona divides her time between Europe and her ranch in Brazil. She has two sons and travels frequently to Paris, New York and can be seen at the races in Deauville in France, or at Royal Ascot in the U.K.
Fiona credits her mother with putting her on the path to becoming a writer. “My mother always read aloud to me as a child. She didn’t approve of television and I spent many hours with my nose in a book. As a child I read everything I could get my hands on.”
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER ONE
AS THE four-by-four SUV raced over a bumpy road in the arid north-eastern Brazilian countryside, HRH Prince Ricardo of Maldoravia asked himself—not for the first time—what had induced him to accept an invitation that could only lead to trouble.
He glanced at the SUV’s driver—a small, wiry individual in designer sunglasses, brown as a nut, with a wide smile and an attitude when it came to dealing with the local police. They seemed to enjoy stopping a car on the road for no apparent purpose other than to check papers, then hum and ha for a while, before sending its occupants on their way. Ricardo then glanced at his watch: three-thirty-five. The intense heat outside had penetrated the interior of the SUV, despite its tinted windows and the air-conditioning, which was on full blast. From his limited Portuguese, he understood the journey would take at least another hour. And that, he realised, could signify anything: time here had a different meaning.
He leaned back and stretched his legs as far as they would go. He must, he concluded wryly, be crazy to have accepted his late father’s old friend’s invitation. Gonzalo Guimaraes and his parent had studied together at Eton and Oxford many years ago, and although their lives had taken very different routes—Ricardo’s father becoming ruler of the small island Principality of Maldoravia in the Mediterranean, and Gonzalo heading back to his vast Brazilian fazenda—the two men had enjoyed a lifelong friendship. And in all those years Ricardo had never known Gonzalo to ask for any favours. Which was what made the request for Ricardo to visit him in his fiefdom all the more intriguing.
They were driving along the coastline now, and the landscape had changed: rolling waves, white sand and scattered coconut trees swayed with samba-like rhythm in the summer breeze. Two skimpily dressed men sat by the roadside, seemingly oblivious to the blazing sun. Another led a packed mule at a gentle pace. Speed was apparently not a factor in this part of the world. At one point Ricardo could see a little bronzed boy of about ten holding up a snake with the hopes of selling it to one of the few passers-by heading along the dust-bitten road.
So, although he had misgivings about the trip, Ricardo was fascinated. It was not the first time he’d visited Brazil—he’d made a brief visit to Rio a few years ago, for Carnival. But what he was seeing here and now was a very different country, one locked in a time warp where not much had changed and where the outside world meant little.
An hour and a half later they turned left down an earth road and the driver pointed to huge gates surrounded by coconut trees. Beyond them Ricardo spied a small bridge. Thick vegetation hid whatever else lay beyond. At the gates several dark-suited guards came out and greeted them. One bowed and, through gold teeth and
