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amish had been renamed Hasina and her offspring had all been found caring homes.
Even Morag had found her own happy ending, for she had quietly married Ghassan, the head groom, in a simple and loving ceremony which would have melted the most indifferent heart. The middle-aged couple had been given their own small section of the royal palace and the Scottish nanny was able to continue to help care for Cameron—the little boy and future king who was thriving with each day that passed.
Caitlin sighed as she looked up at her husband. Her beloved husband who was now her greatest friend and advocate. ‘I have you to thank for letting me show my work here, my darling,’ she said softly.
‘And I have you to thank for bringing so much light and love into my world and transforming it completely. And although I can never thank you enough, my flame-haired temptress, I can but try.’ His black eyes glinted as his voice dipped into a provocative whisper. ‘Maybe we should go home right now so that I can demonstrate exactly what I mean.’
Caitlin expelled a slow breath of excitement. Whoever would have thought that an illegitimate girl from Cronarty would have ended up thinking of a palace as her home? But she did. Yet she knew that if the world changed tomorrow and she had to go and live with Kadir and Cameron in that small croft on Cronarty—which they sometimes visited, unannounced—they would be just as happy. Because life wasn’t about jewels and palaces, or ruling a huge country. It was about the relationships you had with the people around you—and hers were just the best.
When they got back to the palace, they would retire to their beautiful sandalwood-scented suite and undress each other at leisure. Her fingers would explore the honed muscle beneath Kadir’s satin skin and he would make her gasp as he put his sensual lips to good use. She would enjoy his body—and he hers—as they’d done every time they’d made love. Which had been a dizzying and spectacular amount of times.
And later, when she was lying satisfied and replete in the warm circle of his arms, she would announce her news. Actually, she would make sure that most of the lamps were still lit, because she wanted to see his face when she told him he was going to be a father again. She wanted to capture his joy and keep it in her mind for ever, fixed there as permanently as any photograph. This time he would see her carry their unborn child and this time he would watch her giving birth.
A ripple of gratitude flickered over her skin as she nodded her head in reply to his question.
‘Yes, my darling Kadir,’ she murmured. ‘Let’s go home.’
* * *
Lost in the magic of The Sheikh’s Royal Announcement? Why not explore these other Sharon Kendrick stories?
Bought Bride for the Argentinian
The Argentinian’s Baby of Scandal
His Contract Christmas Bride
Cinderella in the Sicilian’s World
Available now!
Keep reading for an excerpt from The Maid’s Best Kept Secret by Abby Green.
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The Maid’s Best Kept Secret
by Abby Green
CHAPTER ONE
MAGGIE TAGGART FELT RESTLESS. She’d finished washing up the dishes in the sink and looked around the vast and gleaming kitchen which was situated in the basement of an even vaster house. A stunningly beautiful period country house, to be exact. Set in some ten acres of lush green land about an hour’s drive outside Dublin.
There were manicured gardens to the rear and a sizeable walled kitchen garden to the side. There was even a small lake and a forest. And stables. But the stables were empty. The owner—a billionaire tycoon—had apparently bought the house sight unseen on a whim when he’d had a passing interest in investing in horse racing, for which this part of Ireland was renowned.
Except he’d never bought any horses and he’d never actually visited the house. So here it sat, empty and untouched. Luxuriously decorated to his specifications. He hadn’t even hired the housekeeper himself—one of his assistants had done it remotely.
That housekeeper had been Maggie’s mother, and when she’d fallen ill she had been terrified of losing her job. So Maggie had quit her own job as a commis chef in a Dublin restaurant and come to help her and take care of her. Leaving her restaurant job hadn’t been too much of a sacrifice, thanks to the head chef, who had been a serial groper of his female staff.
Then Maggie’s mother had died suddenly, and when she’d informed the owner’s offices an impersonal assistant had asked if she wouldn’t mind taking over in the interim, while they found a permanent replacement.
Maggie had been in shock...grieving...so she’d found herself saying yes, relishing the thought of a quiet space where she could lick her wounds and deal with her grief, not yet ready to face back into the world.
