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“It’s not my wish to marry your brother. Or be kissed by you,” she lied.
“That will not happen again,” he said with a slight, formal inclination of his head. “As delightful as the diversion was.”
In order to make true his promise Rafiq knew he would have to take care to keep her literally at arm’s length in future. For some reason his brain ceased to function around her.
He was still shocked to the core that for the first time in his life he had permitted carnal need to overrule common sense and logic.
“You want me to marry your brother, so what was that?” Her hand went to her lips—they still felt swollen and oversensitive. “A test run?” she suggested bitterly. “The Royal bedroom test? Did I pass?’
Gabby took an involuntary step back as fury flashed in his eyes and the pewter flecks were swallowed up as they darkened.
“That was a mistake,” he gritted through clenched teeth.
Dear Reader,
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Best wishes,
The Editors
Desert Prince, Blackmailed Bride
Kim Lawrence
MILLS & BOON
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All about the author…
Kim Lawrence
Though lacking much authentic Welsh blood, KIM LAWRENCE—from English/Irish stock—she was born and brought up in north Wales. She returned there when she married, and her sons were both born on Anglesey, an island off the coast. Though not isolated, Anglesey is a little off the beaten track, but lively Dublin, which Kim loves, is only a short ferry ride away.
Today they live on the farm her husband was brought up on. Welsh is the first language of many people in this area, and Kim’s husband and sons are all bilingual. She is having a lot of fun, not to mention a few headaches, trying to learn the language!
With small children, she thought the unsocial hours of nursing weren’t too attractive, so, encouraged by a husband who thinks she can do anything she sets her mind to, Kim tried her hand at writing. Always a keen Harlequin reader, she felt it was natural for her to write a romance novel. Now she can’t imagine doing anything else.
She is a keen gardener and cook, and enjoys running—often on the beach because, since she lives on an island, the sea is never very far away. She is usually accompanied by her Jack Russell, Sprout—don’t ask, it’s a long story!
I’d like to dedicate this book to the memory of
my mum, Ann Shirley—lovely lady, best friend,
kindest critic and real-life feisty heroine.
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 THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER ONE
RAFIQ slid his arms into his linen shirt and sat straddling the chair. The pale fabric gaped to reveal the perfectly delineated muscles of his deep gold upper torso—a lot more delineated since he’d dropped almost fifteen pounds.
None of the turbulent seething in his chest was reflected in his expression as, his hands clenched into fists, he fought to control his totally irrational compulsion to drag the grey-haired Frenchman from his seat and throttle a retraction from him.
He was lying—he had to be lying!
He didn’t, and not just because the doctor was a good twenty years his senior, but because he recognised denial even when he was the one doing the denying. Rafiq knew the man wasn’t lying. It was the truth. Not a truth anyone wanted to hear, but the truth.
He wasn’t going to see his fiftieth birthday—or, for that matter, his thirty-third!
Once the drumming in his ears had softened to a dull roar a phrase separated itself from the disconnected jumble of thoughts swirling in his head: roll with the punches.
It sounded so easy.
Years of practice at rigidly disciplining himself helped, and slowly an icy calm
