Название | Sheikh's Captured Bride |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Кейт Хьюит |
Жанр | Короткие любовные романы |
Серия | Mills & Boon M&B |
Издательство | Короткие любовные романы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781474068505 |
‘I’ll look forward to it,’ Saffy said politely. ‘Do they know about the baby?’
‘Only my siblings. When we chose to marry in such haste, it made sense to be honest,’ Zahir said wryly.
Hot pink burned like a banner across her cheeks at the thought that his strictly raised siblings might assume that she was a total slut for succumbing so quickly and easily to their brother’s attractions.
‘You know, when you blush, the tip of your nose turns pink as well,’ Zahir husked. ‘It’s cute as hell.’
‘You know what happened in the desert…the baby,’ Saffy said sharply. ‘It’s all your fault.’
A sizzling, utterly unexpected smile played across Zahir’s wide sensual mouth and startled her. ‘I know. But out of it I gained a very beautiful wife and we have a baby in our future and I can’t find it within my heart to regret anything we did.’
Her eyes prickled and she blinked rapidly, knowing that her acid and pointless comment had not deserved so generous a response. Suddenly her tension gave and she rested her head down on his broad shoulder, drinking in and loving the familiar scent of him—warm clean male laced with an evocative hint of sandalwood. She was momentarily weak with the sheer amount of emotion pumping through her and so confused, still so desperately confused about what she felt, what she truly thought. With every passing moment, her feelings seemed to swing to one side and then violently to the other. So much had happened between them in such a short time frame that she was mentally all over the place.
Saffy was half asleep by the time they left for the airport. She had changed into a very elegant shift dress and jacket almost the same colour as her eyes and let her hair down to flow round her shoulders in a golden mane. Relaxation was infiltrating her for the first time that day. Drowsily she studied the platinum ring on her finger. They were married again: she couldn’t quite believe it.
‘I think I’ll sleep all the way to Maraban,’ Saffy told him apologetically as they boarded the private jet.
‘It’s been a long day and it is after midnight,’ Zahir conceded wryly. ‘But first there’s something I’d like to tell you.’
Alert to the guarded note in his dark deep drawl, Saffy felt her adrenalin start to pump. The jet took off and drinks were served. She undid her belt, let the stewardess show her into the sleeping compartment where she freshened up, and then she rejoined Zahir, made herself comfortable and sipped her fresh orange juice. ‘So?’ she prompted quietly, proud of her patience and self-discipline while she wondered what he had to unveil. ‘What is it?’
Zahir straightened his broad shoulders and settled hard dark eyes on her without flinching. ‘I’ve bought the Desert Ice cosmetics company.’
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