Cinderella's Desert Baby Bombshell Read online

  ‘You start shouting when I try to boss you around,’ Saif pointed out with unholy amusement gleaming in his stunning eyes. ‘I like your feistiness and your lack of guile and greed and also...your generosity. I still want to lock your uncle and aunt up and starve and torture them for the way they mistreated you, but I admire and respect your compassion.’

  ‘They’re already losing everything they value...the house, the money, the lifestyle, their reputations. That’s enough of a punishment, but I will have to watch out that they don’t take advantage of Ana.’

  Saif winced. ‘That will be a lifelong challenge.’

  ‘But I can do it,’ she told him gently while pushing him flat and unbuttoning his shirt, spreading appreciative hands over his bronzed hair-roughened skin and lingering with a boldness she had never dared to utilise with him before. ‘I’m feeling much more confident since I met you...’

  Saif gave her a wicked grin. ‘I am more than willing to lie back and think only of the greatness of Alharia for your benefit, aziz.’

  ‘I can’t believe it only took you a couple of days to start falling in love with me,’ she told him happily.

  ‘You’re a class act,’ Saif husked, winding long fingers into her rumpled blond hair, the warmth and tenderness in his gaze like a sublime caress on her skin. ‘An act no other woman will ever match.’

  ‘I think you’re pretty special too,’ she whispered against the marauding mouth circling hers with unhidden hunger, and then they both forgot to talk and got entirely carried away into their own little world of mutual satisfaction and happiness.

  EPILOGUE

  Five years later

  SAIF GLANCED ACROSS the room to where his wife was seated beside his father. It was the Emir’s birthday. He was ninety years old and just months earlier had stepped down from the throne to allow his son to become Regent. Freed from the stress of ruling, the older man had become much more relaxed, in a way his son had never expected to see.

  Their children—Amir, who was four, and the toddler twins, Farah and Milly—were playing at the Emir’s feet, absorbed in the latest toys he had presented them with. For the first time ever, Saif reflected fondly, his father was enjoying a peaceful family atmosphere and he owed that blessing to Tatiana.

  His father adored his daughter-in-law. He was fond of telling people that his own life would have been very different had he had the good fortune to meet a Tatiana. As to his pride in having married his son off to the grandchild of his old friend, that went without saying. But the knowledge that his father was happy and at peace and delighted in his grandchildren made Saif’s duties a lot easier.

  The Emir had not changed personality overnight, but he had become less authoritarian and more willing to listen to other points of view. On the other side of the room his three older sisters, engaged in their endless embroidery and crochet, were chattering to Tatiana, smiling and laughing, patting the slight swell of her stomach affectionately.

  Thanks to his rashness, their fourth child was due in a handful of months, Saif mused ruefully. Strange how he had never had a reckless bone in his body until Tatiana came along, but then he had also never been happier. When Tatiana had learned that she was carrying twins the last time, they had decided that three children were enough, and then Tatiana’s amazing fertility had collided with his desire to have sex in their private pool and the result was before them. He smiled abstractedly as he watched his beautiful wife weaving her magic with his family. The pool encounter had been spectacularly worthwhile.

  As Tati’s mobile phone buzzed she excused herself and walked through an open archway out to a terrace to take her call. The Emir had not noticed the phone ringing and she was relieved. While the old man was a lot less grumpy than he had once been, he still held on to many of what his son deemed to be ‘medieval prejudices.’

  ‘George wants a baby,’ Ana proclaimed in a tragic voice.

  ‘Well, you knew it was on the cards,’ Tati reminded her cousin, who had been married for four years. George had finally proposed and stuck to his word after Ana began seeing another man. A banker, George Davis-Appleton was a clever character, more than equal to the task of keeping his avaricious in-laws at bay, and that had meant that Tati could finally relax and know her cousin was safe from exploitation.

  ‘You love my kids...why shouldn’t you love your own child?’ Tati asked cheerfully.

  ‘It’s not that, Tati.’ Ana sighed. ‘But when you have a baby you have to grow up and I’m not ready for that yet.’

  ‘But George is, so you have to consider him as well. Look, it’s the Emir’s birthday party here, so I can’t talk for long,’ Tati warned her cousin, soothing Ana’s fears about motherhood aging her overnight.

  Rupert and Elizabeth Hamilton had both received prison sentences after the crooked solicitor had declared that her aunt had been present at his meetings with his client. Within eighteen months, however, both of them had been released and they had moved in with their daughter. With Ana married, they still lived there, and Tati hadn’t seen her uncle since their last meeting at the hotel, a situation that she was quite content with.

  Saif and Tati regularly stayed at the manor when they were in England and spent every Christmas there. Her mother’s cousin, Pauline, had moved in as a sort of caretaker for the property when it was empty. Tati’s life had changed radically but very much for the better, she conceded cheerfully, because she was fiercely content and happy with Saif and their family.

  She glanced up and saw her husband watching her from the archway.

  ‘Hi,’ she murmured softly, blue eyes locking to him, brimming with love and appreciation. Tall, dark and devastatingly handsome, he still rocked her where she stood every time she looked at him.

  He closed his arms round her slowly. ‘You look tired.’

  ‘It was exhausting trying to explain Father Christmas to your father...because there isn’t really an explanation and he doesn’t like fanciful stuff.’

  ‘It’s what you call an own goal, aziz. You persuaded him to join us in England for Christmas this year. He wants to be prepared for some weird old man in a red suit trying to squeeze himself down a chimney...’ Saif laughed softly.

  Tati mock-punched a broad shoulder. ‘Don’t you dare tell Amir that version. He’s already very excited about Christmas.’

  ‘Relax. It’s still summer,’ Saif reminded her, bending his dark glossy head to steal a kiss from her soft pink lips and a little flame ignited low in her pelvis, provoking a moan deep in her throat.

  His mouth circled and teased hers and she squirmed against him, helpless in the grip of that hunger as he backed her up against the wall edging the terrace, ultimately dragging his lips from hers with a groan. ‘We can’t leave until my father retires for the night,’ he reminded her hoarsely.

  Tati chuckled and bumped her brow in reproach against his shoulder before stepping back from him. ‘You’re like oil on a bonfire for me... I’m not complaining,’ she murmured with reddening cheeks as she smiled up at him with adoring eyes that he cherished. ‘I love you so much.’

  Their little private moment was invaded by clattering feet and noisy voices. Amir pelted out with his two-year-old sisters hard in his wake, shouting at him to wait for them. He was tall and black-haired like Saif with the same wonderful green eyes. Farah and Milly were an identical mix of blond-haired blue-eyed little girls with pale golden skin and as lively as Amir was steady like his father.

  Saif hoisted up his daughters in his strong arms and walked back indoors. Amir’s hand slid into his mother’s and he yawned. ‘I was trying to tell Grandpa about Father Christmas, but he got all mixed up,’ he complained.

  As Saif’s keen gaze encountered Tati’s, he was smiling, warmth and tenderness a vibrant presence in that appraisal, and happiness that was as solid as gold shimmered through her. She had everything she had ever wanted in life.

>   * * *

  Head over heels for Cinderella’s Desert Baby Bombshell? Don’t forget to catch the next instalment in the Heirs for Royal Brothers duet!

  Also, don’t miss these other Lynne Graham stories.

  The Italian in Need of an Heir

  A Baby on the Greek’s Doorstep

  Christmas Babies for the Italian

  The Greek’s Convenient Cinderella

  The Ring the Spaniard Gave Her

  Available now!

  Keep reading for an excerpt from A Consequence Made in Greece by Annie West.

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  Escape to exotic locations where passion knows no bounds.

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  A Consequence Made in Greece

  by Annie West

  PROLOGUE

  ‘ARE YOU SURE you don’t want to join me?’

  Strato slitted his eyes against the sun, taking in the topless woman in his superyacht’s swimming pool. Her breasts bobbed in the water but her blonde hair was dry and perfectly styled.

  ‘No. You carry on.’

  If he wanted to swim he’d dive off the boat. The waters in this part of western Greece were like crystal. And when Strato swam it was a workout, not a loll in a pool he could traverse in six strokes.

  And if he wanted a woman...

  That was the problem. He didn’t want this woman.

  Four days had been ample to remind him he didn’t like mindless chatter. That celebrity gossip was no match for an intellectually stimulating discussion or a sense of humour.

  And that manufactured passion was no substitute for the real thing. She was enthusiastic, or able to feign enthusiasm, yet there was something lacking.

  Strato frowned. There was always something lacking.

  The problem, he realised with sudden insight, was with him, not her.

  He’d avoided deep attachments and emotional relationships since he was old enough to understand their inherent danger. He’d spent his adult life with women content to abide by those restrictions. Ones who enjoyed a good time and a good party. Yet he grew increasingly restless and dissatisfied.

  That accounted for his spur of the moment decision to invite Liv and her friend aboard. But instead of enjoying their company, he increasingly avoided them. At least previous lovers had been engaging and there’d been mutual respect and interest.

  She pouted, tilting her head coquettishly. ‘If you don’t want to swim, I could give you a massage.’

  Strato shivered. What he wanted was to be left alone. He didn’t want bony fingers kneading his shoulders as a prelude to sex that would leave him feeling even emptier than before. If he needed a massage his sports masseur/personal trainer was aboard.

  ‘Perhaps you’d prefer something else?’ a throaty voice purred. Strato turned to see his other guest emerge from indoors. She moved sinuously, hips forward and shoulders back, showing off her lean model’s body.

  Her long hair swung around her shoulders as she watched him from the corner of her eye. Beneath the translucent jewelled caftan she was naked. Her lips curved in a smile that was half invitation, half hungry.

  Strato knew her real hunger was reserved for his wealth.

  He suppressed a sigh. He was being unfair. He’d got what he asked for. Restlessness had impaired his judgement. It had been his mistake inviting Liv and Lene on this trip, and not just because he’d overestimated their appeal.

  He’d specified fun, sex, luxury and no strings, all temporary. But it was clear they thought the term temporary was negotiable, already blatantly hinting about longer-term relationships.

  Strato couldn’t allow them to harbour hopes about permanency. The very thought made his nape prickle.

  ‘Maybe you’d like to join the pair of us?’ Lene pulled off her dress with a flourish to reveal her elegant body, then dropped the fabric, stepping into the shallow end of the pool. She beckoned her friend. ‘Maybe you’d like to watch me and Liv together and then join in?’

  She reached out and stroked her friend’s bare flesh from shoulder to thigh.

  Two pairs of assessing eyes fixed on Strato. He felt the weight of their calculation. They weren’t motivated by desire. Except the desire to please him so he’d keep them in luxury and shower them with expensive trinkets. Or maybe, in a moment of weakness, decide to make one his long-term lover.

  Strato smiled and took off his sunglasses. Instantly two smiles, gleaming and perfect, answered as the women moved closer together.

  What they didn’t know was that his expression hid a surge of disgust. Self-disgust at that.

  Had he really thought a cruise with these two would be amusing?

  Amusement was the last thing he felt. There was a metallic taste in his mouth and his flesh tightened as distaste stirred.

  He’d known what they were. As they’d known what he was. Notorious for his wealth, low boredom threshold and refusal to be caught by any woman.

  ‘Thanks for the invitation, ladies.’ He rose and their gazes raked his body.

  Okay, maybe he did them an injustice. Their interest in his body wasn’t totally manufactured. But that didn’t alter the essentials. This wasn’t working.

  ‘My apologies, but something has come up unexpectedly.’

  He gestured towards the study he’d left minutes before. Let them think he’d received news that required his attention. That would afford them some dignity when he gave them their marching orders.

  ‘Do carry on and enjoy yourselves. But I’m afraid I have to change my plans and regrettably you’ll need to return to Athens today.’ He paused for that to sink in. ‘My helicopter will take you back at sunset, or earlier if you prefer. From there a chauffeur will take you wherever you like.’ He nodded. ‘Thank you both for your company. It’s been memorable.’

  He turned and walked across the deck, tuning out the sound of gasps.

  His efficient secretary appeared from inside as Strato reached the side of the boat. As ever he was there just when he was needed. ‘Fix it please, Manoli. And a suitable gift for each of them.’

  Strato stood for a moment, looking across the water to the small island a couple of kilometres away. He breathed deep, drawing in the fresh, salt-tanged air as an antidote to the unpleasant taste on his tongue. Then he executed a perfect dive into the green depths and began swimming.

  Copyright © 2021 by Annie West

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  ISBN-13: 9780369707017

  Cinderella’s Desert Baby Bombshell

  Copyright © 2021 by Lynne Graham

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely co
incidental.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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