banner banner banner
Cinderella: Hired by the Prince / The Sheikh's Destiny: Cinderella: Hired by the Prince / The Sheikh's Destiny
Cinderella: Hired by the Prince / The Sheikh's Destiny: Cinderella: Hired by the Prince / The Sheikh's Destiny
Оценить:
Рейтинг: 0

Полная версия:

Cinderella: Hired by the Prince / The Sheikh's Destiny: Cinderella: Hired by the Prince / The Sheikh's Destiny

скачать книгу бесплатно

Cinderella: Hired by the Prince / The Sheikh's Destiny: Cinderella: Hired by the Prince / The Sheikh's Destiny
Marion Lennox

Melissa James

CINDERELLA: HIRED BY THE PRINCE Marion Lennox Struggling cook Jenny buries her sensible side and swaps blueberry muffins for the wide open sea when gorgeous stranger Ramón offers her a job on his yacht. It’s almost perfect – until Ramón reveals he’s not a humble yachtsman, but a secret prince!THE SHEIKH’S DESTINY Melissa JamesSheikh Alim El-Kanar has fled his war-torn home and is in hiding. Without a kingdom to rule over and a public to serve he has no future. When nurse Hana saves his life, she gives him a glimmer of hope. Finding each other has unleashed powerful forces: duty, desire and destiny…

She stared up at him in the moonlight. He stared straight back at her and she felt her heart surge.

What am I getting into? she demanded of herself, but suddenly she didn’t care. The night was warm, the boat was lovely, and this man was holding her hands, looking down at her in the moonlight, and his hands were imparting strength and surety and promise.

Promise? What was he promising? She was being fanciful.

But she had to be careful, she told herself fiercely. She must.

It was too late.

‘Yes,’ she said, before she could change her mind—and she was committed.

She was heading to the other side of the world with a man she’d met less than a day ago.

Was she out of her mind?

Cinderella: Hired By The Prince

By

Marion Lennox

The Sheikh’s Destiny

By

Melissa James

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

BY ROYAL APPOINTMENT

You’re invited to a royal wedding!

From turreted castles to picturesque palaces to sumptuous sheikhdoms—these kingdoms may be steeped in tradition, but romance always rules!

So don’t miss your VIP invitation to the most extravagant weddings of the year!

Your royal carriage awaits in…

CINDERELLA: HIRED BY THE PRINCEby Marion Lennox

THE SHEIKH’S DESTINYby Melissa James

Cinderella: Hired By The Prince

By

Marion Lennox

MARION LENNOX is a country girl, born on an Australian dairy farm. She moved on—mostly because the cows just weren’t interested in her stories! Married to a ‘very special doctor’, Marion writes Medical

Romances as well as Mills & Boon

Romance (she used a different name for each category for a while—if you’re looking for her past Mills & Boon Romances, search for author Trisha David as well). She’s now had over 75 romance novels accepted for publication.

In her non-writing life Marion cares for kids, cats, dogs, chooks and goldfish. She travels, she fights her rampant garden (she’s losing) and her house dust (she’s lost).

Having spun in circles for the first part of her life, she’s now stepped back from her ‘other’ career, which was teaching statistics at her local university. Finally she’s reprioritised her life, figured what’s important and discovered the joys of deep baths, romance and chocolate.

Preferably all at the same time!

Prologue

‘RAMÓN spends his life in jeans and ancient T-shirts. He has money and he has freedom. Why would he want the Crown?’

Señor Rodriguez, legal advisor to the Crown of Cepheus, regarded the woman before him with some sympathy. The Princess Sofía had been evicted from the palace of Cepheus sixty years ago, and she didn’t wish to be back here now. Her face was tear-stained and her plump hands were wringing.

‘I had two brothers, Señor Rodriguez,’ she told him, as if explaining her story could somehow alter the inevitable. ‘But I was only permitted to know one. My younger brother and I were exiled with my mother when I was ten years old, and my father’s cruelty didn’t end there. And now…I haven’t seen a tiara in sixty years and, as far as I know, Ramón’s never seen one. The only time he’s been in the palace is the night his father died. I’ve returned to the palace because my mother raised me with a sense of duty, but how can we demand that from Ramón? To return to the place that killed his father…’

‘The Prince Ramón has no choice,’ the lawyer said flatly. ‘And of course he’ll want the Crown.’

‘There’s no “of course” about it,’ Sofía snapped. ‘Ramón spends half of every year building houses for some charity in Bangladesh, and the rest of his life on his beautiful yacht. Why should he give that up?’

‘He’ll be Crown Prince.’

‘You think royalty’s everything?’ Sofía gave up hand wringing and stabbed at her knitting as if she’d like it to be the late, unlamented Crown Prince. ‘My nephew’s a lovely young man and he wants nothing to do with the throne. The palace gives him nightmares, as it gives us all.’

‘He must come,’ Señor Rodriguez said stiffly.

‘So how will you find him?’Sofía muttered. ‘When he’s working in Bangladesh Ramón checks his mail, but for the rest of his life he’s around the world in that yacht of his, who knows where? Since his mother and sister died he lets the wind take him where it will. And, even if you do find him, how do you think he’ll react to being told he has to fix this mess?’

‘There won’t be a mess if he comes home. He’ll come, as you have come. He must see there’s no choice.’

‘And what of the little boy?’

‘Philippe will go into foster care. There’s no choice there, either. The child is nothing to do with Prince Ramón.’

‘Another child of no use to the Crown,’ Sofía whispered, and she dropped two stiches without noticing. ‘But Ramón has a heart. Oh, Ramón, if I were you I’d keep on sailing.’

Chapter One

‘JENNY, lose your muffins. Get a life!’

Gianetta Bertin, known to the Seaport locals as Jenny, gave her best friend a withering look and kept right on spooning double choc chip muffin mixture into pans. Seaport Coffee ’n’ Cakes had been crowded all morning, and her muffin tray was almost bare.

‘I don’t have time for lectures,’ she told her friend severely. ‘I’m busy.’

‘You need to have time for lectures. Honest, Jen.’ Cathy hitched herself up onto Jenny’s prep bench and grew earnest. ‘You can’t stay stuck in this hole for ever.’

‘There’s worse holes to be stuck in, and get off my bench. If Charlie comes in he’ll sack me, and I won’t have a hole at all.’

‘He won’t,’ Cathy declared. ‘You’re the best cook in Seaport. You hold this place up. Charlie’s treating you like dirt, Jen, just because you don’t have the energy to do anything about it. I know you owe him, but you could get a job and repay him some other way.’

‘Like how?’ Jenny shoved the tray into the oven, straightened and tucked an unruly curl behind her ear. Her cap was supposed to hold back her mass of dark curls, but they kept escaping. She knew she’d now have a streak of flour across her ear but did it matter what she looked like?

And, as if in echo, Cathy continued. ‘Look at you,’ she declared. ‘You’re gorgeous. Twenty-nine, figure to die for, cute as a button, a woman ripe and ready for the world, and here you are, hidden in a shapeless white pinafore with flour on your nose—yes, flour on your nose, Jen—no don’t wipe it, you’ve made it worse.’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ Jenny said. ‘Who’s looking? Can I get on? There’s customers out there.’

‘There are,’ Cathy said warmly, peering out through the hatch but refusing to let go of her theme. ‘You have twenty people out there, all coming here for one of your yummy muffins and then heading off again for life. You should be out there with them. Look at that guy out there, for instance. Gorgeous or what? That’s what you’re missing out on, Jen, stuck in here every day.’

Jenny peered out the hatch as well, and it didn’t take more than a glance to see who Cathy was referring to.

The guy looked to be in his mid-thirties. He was a yachtie—she could tell that by his gear—and he was seriously good-looking. It had been raining this morning. He was wearing battered jeans, salt-stained boating shoes and a faded black T-shirt, stretched tight over a chest that looked truly impressive. He’d shrugged a battered sou’wester onto the back of his chair.

Professional, she thought.

After years of working in Coffee ’n’ Cakes she could pick the classes of boaty. Holding the place up were the hard-core fishermen. Then there were the battered old salts who ran small boats on the smell of an oily rag, often living on them. Next there was the cool set, arriving at weekends, wearing gear that came out of the designer section of the Nautical Monthly catalogue, and leaving when they realized Coffee ’n’ Cakes didn’t sell Chardonnay.

And finally there were the serious yachties. Seaport was a deep water harbour just south of Sydney, and it attracted yachts doing amazing journeys. Seaport had a great dry dock where repairs could be carried out expertly and fast, so there were often one or two of these classy yachts in port.

This guy looked as if he was from one of these. His coat looked battered but she knew the brand, even from this distance. It was the best. Like the man. The guy himself also looked a bit battered, but in a good way. Worn by the sea. His tan was deep and real, his eyes were crinkled as if he spent his life in the sun, and his black hair was only really black at the roots. The tips were sun-bleached to almost fair.

He was definitely a professional sailor, she thought, giving herself a full minute to assess him. And why not? He was well worth assessing.

She knew the yachting hierarchy. The owners of the big sea-going yachts tended to be middle-aged or older. They spent short bursts of time on their boats but left serious seafaring to paid staff. This guy looked younger, tougher, leaner than a boat-owner. He looked seriously competent. He’d be being paid to take a yacht to where its owner wanted it to be.

And for a moment—just for a moment—Jenny let herself be consumed by a wave of envy. Just to go where the wind took you…To walk away from Seaport…

No. That’d take effort and planning and hope—all the things she no longer cared about. And there was also debt, an obligation like a huge anchor chained around her waist, hauling her down.

But her friend was thinking none of these things. Cathy was prodding her, grinning, rolling her eyes at the sheer good looks of this guy, and Jenny smiled and gazed a little bit more. Cathy was right—this guy was definite eye-candy. What was more, he was munching on one of her muffins—lemon and pistachio. Her favourite, she thought in approval.

And then he looked up and saw her watching. He grinned and raised his muffin in silent toast, then chuckled as she blushed deep crimson and pushed the hatch closed.

Cathy laughed her delight. ‘There,’ she said in satisfaction. ‘You see what’s out there? He’s gorgeous, Jen. Why don’t you head on out and ask him if he’d like another muffin?’

‘As if,’ she muttered, thoroughly disconcerted. She shoved her mixing bowl into the sink. ‘Serving’s Susie’s job. I’m just the cook. Go away, Cathy. You’re messing with my serenity.’

‘Stuff your serenity,’ Cathy said crudely. ‘Come on, Jen. It’s been two years…’ Then, as she saw the pain wash across Jenny’s face, she swung herself off the bench and came and hugged her. ‘I know. Moving on can’t ever happen completely, but you can’t keep hiding.’

‘Dr Matheson says I’m doing well,’ Jenny said stubbornly.

‘Yeah, he’s prescribing serenity,’ Cathy said dourly. ‘Honey, you’ve had enough peace. You want life. Even sailing…You love the water, but now you don’t go near the sea. There’s so many people who’d like a weekend crew. Like the guy out there, for instance. If he offered me a sail I’d be off for more than a weekend.’

‘I don’t want…’

‘Anything but to be left alone,’ Cathy finished for her. ‘Oh, enough. I won’t let you keep on saying it.’ And, before Jenny could stop her, she opened the hatch again. She lifted the bell Jenny used to tell Susie an order was ready and rang it like there was a shipwreck in the harbour. Jenny made a grab for it but Cathy swung away so her body protected the bell. Then, when everyone was watching…

‘Attention, please,’ she called to the room in general, in the booming voice she used for running the Seaport Ladies’ Yoga Sessions. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, I know this is unusual but I’d like to announce a fantastic offer. Back here in the kitchen is the world’s best cook and the world’s best sailor. Jenny’s available as crew for anyone offering her excitement, adventure and a way out of this town. All she needs is a fantastic wage and a boss who appreciates her. Anyone interested, apply right here, right now.’

‘Cathy!’ Jenny stared at her friend in horror. She made a grab for the hatch doors and tugged them shut as Cathy collapsed into laughter. ‘Are you out of your mind?’

‘I love you, sweetheart,’ Cathy said, still chuckling. ‘I’m just trying to help.’

‘Getting me sacked won’t help.’

‘Susie won’t tell Charlie,’Cathy said. ‘She agrees with me. Don’t you, Susie?’ she demanded as the middle-aged waitress pushed her way through the doors. ‘Do we have a queue out there, Suse, all wanting to employ our Jen?’

‘You shouldn’t have done it,’ Susie said severely, looking at Jenny in concern. ‘You’ve embarrassed her to death.’

‘There’s no harm done,’ Cathy said. ‘They’re all too busy eating muffins to care. But honest, Jen, put an ad in the paper, or at least start reading the Situations Vacant. Susie has a husband, four kids, two dogs and a farm. This place is a tiny part of her life. But for you…This place has become your life. You can’t let it stay that way.’

‘It’s all I want,’ Jenny said stubbornly. ‘Serenity.’

‘That’s nonsense,’ Susie declared.

‘Of course it’s nonsense,’ Cathy said, jumping off the bench and heading for the door. ‘Okay, Stage One of my quest is completed. If it doesn’t have an effect then I’ll move to Stage Two, and that could be really scary.’

Coffee ’n’ Cakes was a daytime café. Charlie was supposed to lock up at five, but Charlie’s life was increasingly spent in the pub, so at five Jenny locked up, as she was starting to do most nights.

At least Charlie hadn’t heard of what had happened that morning. Just as well, Jenny thought as she turned towards home. For all Cathy’s assurances that she wouldn’t be sacked, she wasn’t so sure. Charlie’s temper was unpredictable and she had debts to pay. Big debts.

Once upon a time Charlie had been a decent boss. Then his wife died, and now…

Loss did ghastly things to people. It had to her. Was living in a grey fog of depression worse than spending life in an alcoholic haze? How could she blame Charlie when she wasn’t much better herself?

She sighed and dug her hands deep into her jacket pockets. The rain from this morning had disappeared. It was warm enough, but she wanted the comfort of her coat. Cathy’s behaviour had unsettled her.

She would’ve liked to take a walk along the harbour before she went home, only in this mood it might unsettle her even more.

All those boats, going somewhere.

She had debts to pay. She was going nowhere.

‘Excuse me?’

The voice came from behind her. She swung around and it was him. The guy with the body, and with the smile.

Okay, that was a dumb thing to think, but she couldn’t help herself. The combination of ridiculously good-looking body and a smile to die for meant it was taking everything she had not to drop her jaw.

It had been too long, she thought. No one since…