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FROM THE BACK COVER
Lady Lucinda Lancefield is visiting her former school mate in Sicily, on a so dreamed of trip before she chooses an insipidly suitable suitor to get married, as her parents wish. While there, she meets explosively attractive, irritatingly arrogant Tariq Al-Fadih. Suddenly, she's abducted and swept away to the desert with the scoundrel himself. And it proves increasingly difficult to resist the fiery sensations he stokes in her.
Tariq is focused on his tasks at hand in Sicily, as a wealthy merchant, when a blisteringly rebellious English lady crosses his path. He's on a quest for atonement against an ex-associate, planning to abduct his daughter to achieve that. But his men make a mistake and bring that infuriatingly beautiful woman instead. As they cross the desert, Tariq is less and less capable of resisting her allures, as passion threatens to burst, sending his cares to the desert winds.
Sensuality level: sensuous, sizzling.
EXCERPT
“I’ve made plans upon my returning.”
He frowned, his cognac eyes piercing her. “Plans? What plans?”
She looked at him directly in the eye. “I’m getting married.” Of course she wasn’t in a hurry to choose a husband or to be leg-shackled. Looking at his tall powerful frame, the idea was positively unattractive. Her body reacted to him shamefully, her cheeks flushing.
An invisible deadly paw clawed sharply inside him. “Who are you marrying?” In a brusque movement, he pushed from the wall and stalked to her.
She lifted her chin in defiance. “I’m choosing from one of the offers when I get back.”
The knowledge that she had more than one offer to choose from ate at his guts. No surprise there, beautiful as she was. There would be no shortage of suitors. She was at marriageable age. And a blue-blood. And he couldn’t fathom why this fuming rage in him.
“Oh, one of those milk-sops.” He struggled to give a sardonic clink to his comment. He stepped forward.
Her hands flew to her waist and she kept her ground. “They are gentlemen, a concept you cannot grab!” And she hoped he didn’t. The epithet milk-sop wasn’t so far from the truth after all.
He came closer, she lifted her head to his cognac-against-fire eyes darting shards of anger. His broad shoulders, domineering. His sandalwood scent alluring. Impossible for her not to step back, as her full breasts, and pebbled, were almost touching his kaftan.
“Oh, yes, sorry. Gentlemen.” The word dripped disdain. “And, prey, what’s so special about them?” He paced predatorily once more.
His drawling silky deep voice was like a caress on her skin. But danger underlined it. Her breath caught, her mind blurred and she struggled for coherent thought to prevail. She paced back again. “T-they are considerate, respectful and-” The remaining died in her throat.
He came closer, and it felt like he was about to pounce. “And?” He pressed.
She tried to step back once more, but her heels found the bed. “A-and polite.” Her eyes widened on him. He was so close, she could see the golden rim in his eyes. Her mouth dried and she moistened it. His eyes lowered to her parted lips and darkened.
CHAPTER ONE
Syracuse, 1841
Lady Lucinda Lancefield stood in the shade of a stall in the middle of a Syracuse street-market, dressed in ultimate French fashion. Around her the vendors shouted their products and prices to whoever cared to come and buy them. The scent of fruit, spices and herbs floated in the air in a blend both tempting and heady. A wonder that a month like March should give such a generous sun here while England was still drowning in damp and grey. The blue sky and the salty sea breeze mingled in pleasant warmness.
She waited for her friend, Adriana Graziani, to go through haggling over fresh dates fresh from Egypt on the next stall. Amazing how rich commerce could be, with ships crossing the Mediterranean bringing all unimaginable assortment of merchandise.
