His Queen by Desert Decree Page 16

  Molly scooped up the boisterous toddler, who had his mother’s green eyes and his father’s black hair. She had conceived almost as soon as she’d tried and, although she had had to have a C-section because Sharif was a large baby, she had had an easy pregnancy and she was thinking of trying for a second child the following year. There were so many other claims on her time, she acknowledged thoughtfully. She sat on the board of governors for the international school and, now that the pace of modern change in Djalia had become unstoppable, she was very busy.

  When she needed clothes now she could shop in Jovan, and when she walked through the shopping mall and saw other young women wearing Western fashion she felt proud that she had helped Azrael bring about that transformation. Business and investment were booming in Djalia and the tourist trade had taken off like a rocket, encouraged by Molly’s enthusiastic PR campaign on behalf of her adopted country. But her proudest and happiest moments were still those she spent with her husband and son.

  ‘Sometimes, Sharif’s a manipulative little monster,’ she said fondly of her astute two-year-old. ‘Azrael and I are the only two people in the building who ever say no to him.’

  ‘Keep on saying it,’ Tahir advised wryly. ‘If I had heard that word more often when I was a kid I would never have gone off the rails.’

  ‘But you’re a different person now,’ Molly pointed out as he vaulted upright, looking very serious. ‘I wish you could stay for longer.’

  Tahir grimaced. ‘Duty calls and I don’t mind it as much now that I can see how much my father needs me at home.’

  ‘Has he mellowed any?’ Molly enquired ruefully.

  ‘No, my father doesn’t do mellow,’ Tahir declared with amusement. ‘But we’re getting along better in spite of our differences.’

  Azrael strode in, tall, dark and devastatingly handsome. A simple glimpse of Azrael still gave Molly’s susceptible heart a revitalising jolt. Her delight in him never seemed to ebb and she revelled in their closeness. Over three years into their marriage she could not have been happier. It was almost a year since her grandfather had passed away. Molly had spent most of Maurice’s last weeks with him in the UK and she had been heartbroken when she had finally had to say goodbye to the old man that she loved. Azrael had been an irreplaceable source of strength and comfort during that difficult period.

  Sharif raced across the floor to throw himself at his father with a whoop of excitement. Some rough play took place and Azrael tickled him, grinning as the toddler succumbed to helpless giggles.

  ‘I wish I’d had that much fun growing up,’ Tahir muttered ruefully.

  ‘You can give your own children that fun,’ Molly told him gently.

  Tahir rolled his eyes in mock horror. ‘That’s years away!’ he exclaimed, giving her a casual hug. ‘Look after yourself.’

  ‘And you,’ she said warmly, as ever amazed at the depth of affection she had developed for her husband’s once troubled kid brother. It had grown during the weeks he’d spent living with them and recovering from his breakdown. She had gradually come to see that Tahir had abducted her more out of a desire for her warmth and approval than from more romantic motives. Still grieving for his mother and unhappy in his home life, Tahir had made a desperate grab for what he’d mistaken for love and as the two of them had come to understand that reality their mutual discomfiture had faded to be replaced by family affection.

  ‘He’s turning out OK,’ Azrael pronounced with quiet pride after Tahir had departed. ‘I can see the man he will become now. Strong, steady, sensible. He doesn’t have his father’s brutal repressive streak or my hot temper.’

  ‘Yes.’ Molly rubbed her cheek lovingly against a broad shoulder, drinking in the familiar scent of him. ‘You’re volatile enough for both of you.’

  ‘I control it,’ he reminded her.

  Molly grinned against his shoulder because he didn’t control that marvellously explosive, passionate streak in their bed and she was addicted to the excitement he gave her. Sharif went off with his nanny to have his tea, leaving Molly and Azrael alone.

  ‘I have a little surprise for you,’ Azrael told her, hustling her upstairs to their bedroom.

  Azrael was a great fan of giving her surprises but he didn’t always get it right. Their first Christmas together he had bought her a piano, only to wince in surprise when he’d listened and realised that she had not played in years. Music lessons had followed and now she practised daily and could turn out a creditable performance on the keys. These days she usually only saw his Mr Grumpy expression when he was forced to travel and leave her behind. He hated being separated from his family.

  ‘It took a long time to track these down and considerable persuasion to get the new owners to part with them,’ Azrael told her, handing her two small boxes. ‘But I was determined that you would be reunited with your family heritage.’

  ‘Azrael,’ Molly sighed, wondering what on earth he was talking about. ‘A family as ordinary as mine—unlike yours—doesn’t have what you would call a heritage...’

  ‘A man with Hashem in his family tree has no false pride and few illusions about his supposedly illustrious bloodline,’ Azrael contradicted.

  Molly opened the boxes and her lashes fluttered up on amazed eyes. ‘My grandmother’s brooch and ring!’ she gasped, staring down at the glittering diamonds in disbelief. ‘How on earth—?’

  ‘They are very fine stones and very old. We will probably never know how they came into your ordinary family, but perhaps they were passed down from a wealthier generation to yours,’ he suggested, smiling as she put the ring on her finger with tears of joy shining in her lovely green eyes.

  ‘This means so much to me!’ Molly admitted chokily. ‘I am so moved that you would go to that much trouble to get these back for me.’

  ‘I was touched that you would make such a sacrifice to care for Maurice and I was determined that they should be recovered for you,’ Azrael murmured, brushing a sparkling tear from her cheek with a gentle fingertip. ‘You’re so loyal and loving...and I am so very fortunate to have found you. I adore you, Molly mine.’

  ‘And I adore you.’

  In reward, Azrael brought his firm, sensual mouth down on hers, tasting her with powerful pleasure while hunger sizzled through Molly’s shapely body like a living flame.

  ‘I was planning to save them until we visited the cave to celebrate our anniversary next week,’ Azrael confided as he came up for air again. ‘But once I received them, I had to give them to you. I couldn’t wait to see your beautiful face light up.’

  ‘Mr Gorgeous, you are my every dream come true,’ Molly told him joyfully.

  ‘I can live with that label even less easily than I can live with Glorious Leader,’ her plain-speaking husband told her firmly.

  ‘But I can’t live without you,’ Molly declared sunnily, lost in those stunning dark golden eyes locked to her smiling face.

  * * * * *

  EXCLUSIVE EXTRACT

  Leonidas Betancur was presumed dead after a plane crash, and he cannot recall the vows he made to his bride Susannah four years ago. But once tracked down, his memories resurface – and he’s ready to collect his belated wedding night! Susannah wants Leonidas to reclaim his empire and free her of his legacy. But dangerously attractive Leonidas steals her innocence with a touch… And the consequences of their passion will bind them together for ever!

  Read on for a sneak preview of Caitlin Crews’ next story

  A BABY TO BIND HIS BRIDE

  One Night With Consequences

  There was a discreet knock on the paneled door and the doctor stepped back into the room.

  “Congratulations, madame, monsieur,” the doctor said, nodding at each of them in turn while Susannah’s breath caught in her throat. “The test is positive. You are indeed pregnant, as you suspected.”

  She barely noticed when Leonidas escorted the doctor from the room. He could have been gone for hours. When he returned he shut the door behind him,
enclosing them in the salon that had seemed spacious before, and that was when Susannah walked stiffly around the settee to sit on it.

  His dark, tawny gaze had changed, she noticed. It had gone molten. He still held himself still, though she could tell the difference in that, too. It was as if an electrical current ran through him now, charging the air all around him even while his mouth remained in an unsmiling line.

  And he looked at her as if she was naked. Stripped. Flesh and bone with nothing left to hide.

  “Is it so bad, then?” he asked in a mild sort of tone she didn’t believe at all.

  Susannah’s chest was so heavy, and she couldn’t tell if it was the crushing weight of misery or something far more dangerous. She held her belly with one hand as if it was already sticking out. As if the baby might start kicking at any second.

  “The Betancur family is a cage,” she told him, or the parquet floor beneath the area rug that stretched out in front of the fireplace, and it cost her to speak so precisely. So matter-of-factly. “I don’t want to live in a cage. There must be options.”

  “I am not a cage,” Leonidas said with quiet certainty. “The Betancur name has drawbacks, it is true, and most of them were at that gala tonight. But it is also not a cage. On the contrary. I own enough of the world that it is for all intents and purposes yours now. Literally.”dpg!

  “I don’t want the world.” She didn’t realize she’d shot to her feet until she was taking a step toward him, very much as if she thought she might take a swing at him next. As if she’d dare. “I don’t need you. I don’t want you. I want to be free.”

  He took her face in his hands, holding her fast, and this close his eyes were a storm. Ink dark with gold like lightning, and she felt the buzz of it. Everywhere.

  “This is as close as you’re going to get, little one,” he told her, the sound of that same madness in his gaze, his voice.

  And then he claimed her mouth with his.

  Don’t miss

  A BABY TO BIND HIS BRIDE

  By Caitlin Crews

  Available January 2018

  www.millsandboon.co.uk

  Copyright ©2017 Caitlin Crews

  ISBN: 978-1-474-05315-0

  HIS QUEEN BY DESERT DECREE

  © 2017 Lynne Graham

  Published in Great Britain 2017

  by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

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