скачать книгу бесплатно
The Desert Bride of Al Zayed / Best Man's Conquest: The Desert Bride of Al Zayed / Best Man's Conquest
Michelle Celmer
Tessa Radley
Be swept away by passion… with intense drama and compelling plots, these emotionally powerful reads will keep you captivated from beginning to end.The Desert Bride of Al Zayed Tessa RadleySheikh Tariq bin Rashid, the desert prince of Zayed, had courted Jayne, captivated her, but he’d never truly trusted her. Now, after five years, she was back to demand a divorce. And Tariq was willing to comply. If Jayne would pretend to be his happily wedded bride for a few weeks longer…Best Man’s Conquest Michelle Celmer He may have been best man at the wedding, but oil tycoon Dillon Marshall had parted on less-than-friendly terms with one guest, his ex-wife, Ivy Madison. Ivy was still a temptation to the billionaire. So he devised a plan to rid his system of her once and for all. He’d seduce her, then walk away…
The Desert Bride of Al Zayedby Tessa Radley
She should not be allowing Tariq to kiss her like this.
Tariq needed a wife who would do her duty… and that woman was not her. So what on earth was she doing responding to her soon-to-be-ex like this?
She tore out of his arms and put half the length of the room between them. “I don’t want this.”
“Liar.” His voice was flat, his face expressionless. The light in his golden eyes had been extinguished. “You responded to me.”
He was right. But she couldn’t afford to let him know that. “Maybe I’d have responded to any attractive man.”
“Any man?” It was a soft snarl, dangerous. “Like the one waiting for you back in Auckland?”
Jayne’s heart thumped in her chest, so loudly she feared he might hear. “Your lack of trust is the reason why I don’t want to be married to you any more.”
“Do you blame me?” His mouth tightened. “No, don’t answer that. Our marriage is over. In a month you will have your divorce.”
Best Man’s Conquestby Michelle Celmer
“You don’t look happy to see me,” he said.
Her eyes narrowed. “I’m going to try to make the best of this. I expect you to do the same.”
“How do you suppose we go about doing that?”
“I think we should agree to avoid each other whenever humanly possible. After this week, we never have to see each other again.”
A corner of his mouth twitched but he held the smile inside. “Sounds like a good idea.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “So that’s it?”
“Sure.” It did sound like a good idea. For her. But the way he saw it, he was long overdue for a little payback. Some good old-fashioned revenge.
If keeping his distance was what she really wanted, for the next week he would be stuck to that woman like glue.
The Desert Bride of Al Zayed
TESSA RADLEY
Best Man’s Conquest
MICHELLE CELMER
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
THE DESERT BRIDE OF AL ZAYED
by
Tessa Radley
TESSA RADLEY
loves travelling, reading and watching the world around her. As a teenager Tessa wanted to be an intrepid foreign correspondent. But after completing a bachelor of arts and marrying her sweetheart, she became fascinated with law and ended up studying further and becoming a lawyer in a city practice.
A six-month break travelling through Australia with her family re-awoke the yen to write. And life as a writer suits her perfectly: travelling and reading count as research and as for analysing the world…well, she can think what if all day long. When she’s not reading, travelling or thinking about writing, she’s spending time with her husband, her two sons – or her zany and wonderful friends. You can contact Tessa through her website, www.tessaradley.com.
Dear Reader,
But now it’s time to go out and meet – even embrace:) – new characters. Learn about them. What they like. What they loathe. And most importantly what happens to them when they fall in love…
I found it very hard to write this letter – mostly because I’ve reached the end of the BILLIONAIRE HEIRS trilogy about cousins Zac, Angelo and Tariq. And I don’t really want to say goodbye to these gorgeous men. Not yet. Nor do I want to say goodbye to Pandora, Gemma and Jayne. I’ve spent so much time with these people over the past months that they’ve become a part of my life.
Because at the heart of it all it’s fabulous to create people who, after a rocky beginning, end up falling in love – and convincing readers that their love will last a lifetime. And sometimes, like Jayne and Tariq, they don’t get it right the first time around. In The Desert Bride of Al Zayed Jayne and Tariq have a second chance at love…and a chance to get it right.
Take care,
Tessa
PS: Don’t forget that you can find out more about my upcoming releases over at www.tessaradley.com. Please come and visit!
I grew up surrounded by inspiring women.
My mother, Ria, who always stays true to
herself. As well as Sophie and Esme who
give so generously of themselves.
Thank you all for your love.
Much thanks to Melissa Jeglinski and Karen
Solem for giving me the freedom to write.
And Abby Gaines, Karina Bliss and
Sandra Hyatt – thank you for never being
farther than a call away!
One
“I want a divorce.”
The moment she’d blurted the words out, Jayne felt her pulse quicken. She squeezed her eyes shut…and waited. The silence on the other end of the line was absolute.
“No.”
The answer rang with finality over the vast distance that separated Zayed from New Zealand. Tariq’s voice was smooth and deep and very, very cool. Like ice. Tingling shivers of apprehension started to dance along Jayne’s spine. She recognised that sensation. It meant trouble.
Jayne gripped the handset until her fingers hurt. “But we’ve been separated for over five years. I thought you’d be jumping for joy at the prospect of a divorce.” And your father, too. She refrained from adding the dig. Mention of his father, the Emir of Zayed, tended to result in arguments—she’d learned that a long time ago. And she didn’t want a battle with no ceasefire in sight, she simply wanted a divorce.
But this was not going quite as she’d planned. From the outset Jayne had intended avoiding any direct contact with Tariq—or his father. She’d phoned the Emir’s chief aide, Hadi al Ebrahim, and had bluntly stated that more than five years had passed since Tariq had banished her from Zayed. Tariq was a citizen of Zayed and their marriage had been conducted in accordance with the laws of his country. According to the laws of Zayed, parties had to be separated for five years before a divorce could be petitioned.
The legal waiting time was over. She wanted to set divorce proceedings in motion. The excruciatingly polite aide had taken her number and promised to call her back.
But the aide’s promised call hadn’t come. Instead Sheikh Tariq bin Rashid al Zayed, her husband—no, her hopefully soon-to-be-ex-husband—had called.
Only to refuse her request.
No. No explanation. No softening the blow. Just a very blunt, very final “No.”
Jayne resisted the urge to stamp her foot. Instead she tried for her most reasonable teacher’s voice, and said, “You haven’t seen me for years, Tariq. Don’t you think it’s time for us both to move on?” From a past that had brought her more pain and anguish than she’d ever anticipated.
“It’s not yet time.”
Jayne’s heart skipped a beat. She sensed all her well-laid plans to start a new degree with the new year, to start dating again, to come out of hibernation and start living a life, unravelling. “Not time? What do you mean it’s not yet time? Of course it’s time. All you need to do is sign—”
“Come to Zayed and we’ll talk about it, Jayne.”
Even over the distance between them the husky sound of her very ordinary name on his tongue sounded sensual and intimate and had the power to make her shiver. It was madness.
“I don’t want to talk. I just want a divorce.” Jayne heard the touch of shrillness in her voice. She could see her brand-new life, her well-laid plans going up in smoke. Damn Tariq.
“Why?” His voice changed, became harsh and abrupt. “Why are you suddenly so desperate for a divorce, my faithless woman? Is there finally a man who objects to having a woman with a husband?”
A brief hesitation. She thought about Neil, the nice accountant her brother-in-law had introduced her to three months ago. He’d asked her out, but she hadn’t accepted. Yet. “No! You’ve got it all—”
“We will meet in Zayed,” her husband decreed. “There will be no divorce. Not yet. But it is possible that the time will come soon. Very soon. We will talk.”
“Tariq—”
But he was already firing information about dates and flights and visas at her. Belatedly Jayne realised that she no longer held her Zayedi passport, she’d left it behind in the bedroom she’d shared with Tariq on that terrible last day. She’d had no intention of ever returning. She’d have to apply for a visa to go to Zayed, which meant at least a week of delay.
“Tariq.” It was a desperate call.
He paused and the sudden silence that stretched between them was shattering.
Jayne swallowed, her mouth dry. Then, more quietly, she said, “Can’t we meet somewhere—” neutral “—else?” Tariq would not come to New Zealand; it was too far. He was a busy man. And she didn’t want him here, destroying her safe haven.
But there had to be other options. Somewhere where she wouldn’t need to revisit those traumatic weeks before the end of their marriage, somewhere she wouldn’t have to walk through the corridors of the lavish palace that had stifled her dreams, or confront the two men who had killed her soul. “What about London?”
“There are…problems…in Zayed. I cannot leave.”
She thought about that for a long moment. “I can’t come to Zayed,” she said at last.
“Can’t or won’t?”
She didn’t answer.
“Then let me make it easy for you. If you don’t come to Zayed, Jayne, I will oppose any application you make for a divorce.”
The words were chilling, even though the tone that delivered them was rich and lingering. The laws of Zayed stated that no divorce could be granted unless the husband consented. As much as it riled her, she needed Tariq’s consent.
Unless she went to Zayed, Tariq would deny her the one thing she wanted above all else: her freedom.
“Don’t forget to send me photos of Zayed.”
Jayne had almost reached the front door of her sister’s house, the Louis Vuitton bag clutched in her hand, when the request caused her to pause. She turned to look at the three people gathered in a huddle to see her off, the three people she loved most in the world—her sister and her two nieces. Raising an eyebrow at her elder niece, Jayne asked, “What kind of photos?”
“Of the desert…the palace—anything cool.”
“It’s very hot in the desert, not cool at all. Certainly not as cool as anything here in Auckland.” Jayne kept a straight face as she referred to her older niece’s active social life, then broke into a smile when Samantha poked a pink tongue out. “What do you want the photos for?”
Samantha moved closer. “I’m doing a PowerPoint project on Zayed. Most of my class has never heard of it.”
“I’m sure I can dig up some really up-to-date information while I’m there,” Jayne promised, setting the heavy bag down for a moment and flexing her fingers. Samantha flashed a pleased grin and Jayne restrained herself from rumpling her niece’s sleekly gelled hair. The style was so much more sophisticated than the ponytail Samantha had worn last year. It was hard to believe that in less than a month Samantha would turn thirteen. A teenager.
“Great.” Samantha beamed. “If I can wow my teacher, I might even get an A.”
“Do you really have to go?”
A small hand tugged at her arm. Jayne looked down into the hazel eyes of her younger niece—her goddaughter—and her heart twisted.
“I really have to go, Amy, my sweet.”
“Why?”
Jayne hesitated. Why? She thought of the abortive conversation with Tariq. How to even start to explain? “Because…” Her voice trailed away.
“‘Because’ is not an answer,” Amy replied, her freckled face solemn.
“Quite frankly, I can’t understand why you’re going, either,” Helen chipped in with typical older-sister impatience. “After everything that happened in that godforsaken country, what Tariq and his horrid father did to you, why on earth would you contemplate going back?”
Jayne recognised her sister’s impatience for what it was—concern. “Because I want a divorce—and it looks like going to Zayed is the only way I can get it.”
Tariq had made that clear enough.
“Why Zayed?” Helen asked, her lips tight. “Why couldn’t you have met in London?”
“It wasn’t an option I was given.” Jayne shrugged her shoulders. “That’s Tariq. His way. Or no way.”
