Cinderella and the Sheikh (Hot Contemporary Romance) by Teresa Morgan

Author:Teresa Morgan [Morgan, Teresa]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2011-04-06T04:00:00+00:00

***

Libby frowned into the close-packed trunk of the Range Rover, grateful to have a task to take her mind off the dark hatred she'd seen on Prince Hani's face at the reception. A look she remembered too well; it appeared every time she closed her eyes.

"Rasyn, where's the tent?"

He set down the basket of supplies he'd been carrying and crossed over to her with long strides. He stood beside her, and frowned into the car over-dramatically, making fun of her.

"Hmm. I may have forgotten it."

She looked up at him, trying to figure out if he was serious. No luck. The setting sun cast a scarlet glow over his handsome features, but she couldn't read him at all.

"By the way, I forgot something else. There's been a problem with your visa."

"Can I be deported? Please? Before tomorrow?"

"You have to sign this." He pulled a folded sheet of paper from the breast pocket of his loose white shirt and handed it to her, along with a gold pen.

Libby unfolded it and scanned the page, which was covered in intricate, but undecipherable, script. "It's in Arabic. What am I signing?"

"It ends the problem. You will be able to stay in Abbas for as long as you like. You will practically be a citizen."

Despite the warning prickles on the back of her neck, she smoothed out the paper as best she could and signed her name, using the side of the truck as a flat surface. Rasyn took it and signed his own. Probably as a witness to her signature.

"Now about this tent—"

Rasyn interrupted, pulling her tight against his solid chest and tilting her chin up with one hand. The explosive meeting of their mouths sent shivers through every nerve in her body.

"What was that for?" she asked, when she got her breath back.

He shrugged. "It seemed appropriate."

Libby ignored his confusing reply and tried to return to the job at hand, despite the fact that Rasyn kept her trapped in his arms. "Where's the tent?"

"Why do you think we need one?" He put out a hand and looked up at a sky painted gold and ginger by the setting sun. "Does it look like rain?"

"Be serious."

She let Rasyn pull her over to the campsite, where she saw that he'd made a cozy nest of blankets and pillows directly on the sand. "It is just you, me and the stars. As it should be. Nothing else matters."

As he said these last words, he lay down on the pile of blankets, and tugged on her hand to show her she should join him. Libby couldn’t resist. After her meeting with the Prince of Damali, she would leave Abbas and carefully guard her memories of Rasyn.

His preparations reminded her of their first night, back in Hotel Scheherazade. From an ice-filled cooler, he pulled a bottle of champagne and poured her a glass. He fed her cheese and grapes and she licked the juice from his fingers as she leaned against his chest and watched the fiery sunset.

"You're wrong.

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