The Sheikh's Hidden Heir. Оливия Гейтс

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       Nine

       Ten

       Epilogue

       Copyright

       Secret Sheikh, Secret Baby

      Carol Marinelli

       Dear Reader

      Welcome to the new look Mills & Boon^® Medical™ romances!

      Now we’re offering you two great value editions with two stories in each, double the medical drama…and twice as many happy endings. All of your favourite authors and all the best stories will still be available—and with two double volumes and two single books each month, you’ll be spoiled for choice!

      Look for these great new titles—out now!

      HIRED: GP AND WIFE by Judy Campbell & THE PLAYBOY DOCTOR’S PROPOSAL by Anne Fraser

      PREGNANT MIDWIFE: FATHER NEEDED by Fiona McArthur

      FOUND: A MOTHER FOR HIS SON by Dianne Drake

      SECRET SHEIKH, SECRET BABY by Carol Marinelli & HIS BABY BOMBSHELL by Jessica Matthews

      To find out more, visit

      www.millsandboon.co.uk/makeover.

      Best wishes

       Sheila Hodgson

      Senior Editor, Medical™ Romance

       Did you know that Carol Marinelli also writes sensationally sexy, glitteringly glamorous books for Mills & Boon® Modern™ Romance?

       Praise for Carol Marinelli:

       BOUGHT BY THE BILLIONAIRE PRINCE

      ‘Carol Marinelli’s…engaging and sexy couple make for a delightful romantic getaway.’

      —Romantic Times BOOKreviews

       EXPECTING HIS LOVE-CHILD

      ‘EXPECTING HIS LOVE-CHILD is an extremely poignant love story that runs the gamut of emotions.’

      —Romantic Times BOOKreviews

      CAROL MARINELLI recently filled in a form where she was asked for her job title, and was thrilled, after all these years, to be able to put down her answer as writer. Then it asked what Carol did for relaxation. After chewing her pen for a moment Carol put down the truth—writing. The third question asked—What are your hobbies? Well, not wanting to look obsessed or, worse still, boring, she crossed the fingers on her free hand and answered swimming and tennis. But, given that the chlorine in the pool does terrible things to her highlights, and the closest she’s got to a tennis racket in the last couple of years is watching the Australian Open, I’m sure you can guess the real answer!

       CHAPTER ONE

      THE hotel was stunning.

      Dashing through the luxurious foyer, Felicity Anderson would have loved to pause and take in her surroundings—or even, given that she had been caught in the rain on her dash from the London underground, race to the ladies’ room and fix her hair and make-up. Her long, wavy blonde hair was tied back, and had early this morning been tamed with hair serum, but the run in the rain from the underground station would have undone all her hard work. There just wasn’t time to worry about it. The information session started at ten a.m., and, glancing at her watch, Felicity grimaced because it was already a quarter past. Meticulous and punctual, she had arranged to arrive at nine and linger in a café beforehand, but track works had caused ‘unexpected delays’ on her train from the north of England, which meant that Felicity was, whether she liked it or not, unforgivably late.

      The concierge had pointed her in the right direction for the conference room, and Felicity followed the discreet signs until she found the venue. There a pretty woman who introduced herself as Noor was sitting at the desk outside, and waved away Felicity’s apologies.

      ‘We are just glad that you made it.’ Noor had thick, long, dark hair that was no doubt rather more neatly tied back than Felicity’s. She was wearing an immaculate navy trouser suit, and her manicured hands held out a pen as she asked Felicity to sign the attendance register. ‘On now is the introductory presentation about the hospital and the imminent opening of the university.’ The dark-haired beauty handed Felicity a heavy bag which contained brochures and forms. ‘You can look through them all later—come, I will take you through. Just stand at the back till the presentation ends, and then take a seat. We really are so pleased to see you, Felicity, and delighted that you are considering us. Zaraqua Hospital urgently needs good midwives.’

      Felicity was just a little taken back by the warmth of Noor’s welcome. But then all her dealings with Zaraqua Hospital had been pleasant. She felt a little bit guilty too—though she had explained that she already had a job in the Middle East lined up, bar signing on the dotted line, and was coming to the recruitment information session only out of last-minute curiosity. As a qualified midwife she knew her skills were in heavy demand, and she wanted to be sure she was making the right choice, but really her decision was almost made.

      The room was in darkness, just illuminated by the light of the vast screen as Felicity slipped in. Standing quietly, she watched the presentation, her decision wavering as she saw the stunning golden beaches of the Mediterranean sea that gave way to vast, vast desert. The Kingdom of Zaraq was an island with its own royal family, Felicity learnt, and its own deep traditions, though it was progressive too. An all-female university was opening, so the new generation of Zaraq women wouldn’t have to leave the island and go overseas to be afforded first-class education. The fact that the university was an all-female environment appeased the more traditional families.

      The information about the university was riveting to listen to, but it was the hospital Felicity was especially interested in. Her attention was utterly focussed as she was led through the lavish corridors, glimpsing plush suites, and her eyes widened as the impressive equipment and facilities were listed—this healthcare was available to all the people of Zaraq.

      So focussed was Felicity that at first she barely registered the person who quietly came in. But as he stood beside her she knew that it was a man without turning her head. A delicious scent reached her nostrils, but more than that there was a presence, an all-male presence, that dragged her attention from the screen. Felicity turned