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Her eyes flew open. “Marry you!” Her voice was unnaturally high. “Whatever for?”
“Because I love you. And I don’t want to be apart from you. And, as it turns out, I don’t want you to be happy with someone else. I want to be the only person who makes you smile like that. The only person who makes you coffee and toasted cheese sandwiches. The only person who makes love to you.”
She let out a small laugh. “You love me?”
“Yes. And I think you love me too. I know you might feel angry still, but I’m the same man you thought you loved before. And if you give me another chance, I promise you won’t be sorry.”
She frowned, pretending to give it some thought, but her smile gave her away completely.
“Now, I have come prepared to convince you this time. If you need a demonstration of just what I can offer, in terms of marriage, I’m very happy to oblige…”
And though she knew she was going to say yes, she tried to act as though she was contemplating it. “A demonstration would be helpful…”
“You don’t need to ask twice.” He scooped her up and held her against his chest, kissing her with all the hopes and dreams that were bursting inside of him. Marcus had arrived into his future, and his future felt just as good as he’d known it would.
THE END.
If you loved A BED OF BROKEN PROMISES, you’ll also enjoy THE SHEIKH’S VIRGIN HOSTAGE, available on the Amazon kindle store.
CHAPTER ONE
“You, over there. You do not agree with me?”
Emma felt a trickle of danger run down her spine as she slowly raised her eyes to the all powerful leader of Amar’a, Sheikh Rafiq Al Sadini. His posture hadn’t changed. He sat, casually reclined, in the centre of the yacht’s luxurious saloon. Only a sixth sense alerted her to an inner tension. Like a spring, tightly coiled, and held in suspense. He was too still, too relaxed seeming.
“I asked you a question,” he repeated quietly, pinning her down with eyes as green and terrifying as a stormy ocean.
The full force of her hatred for this man made her body shake, but she fought to hide it.
Clearing her throat, she opened her mouth to speak. “I beg your pardon, sir. I’m not sure what you mean.”
His eyes narrowed. “You have two ears on the side of your head, do you not?”
Color stole into her lightly freckled cheeks. “Yes, sir.”
He let out an exasperated sigh. “Listening is not a crime. I take it you didn’t agree with what I said?”
Since when did the exalted Sheikh of Amar’a c
are what commoners thought? She bit down on her lower lip, casting about for something acceptable to say. In the four weeks she’d been working for the royal family of Amar’a, she’d never thought about what she’d actually say if she got the chance to confront him. In those four weeks, she had only seen him a handful of times, and this was the first time he’d spoken to her.
“Come here.”
She swallowed away the urge to decline. She might hate him, but she feared him more. Tentatively, she crossed the room, unaware of how her body radiated trepidation as she went.
Up close, he was more devastatingly attractive than she’d appreciated. Then again, Cassandra had impeccable taste in men, at least when it came to sex appeal. Her twin sister was blessed with all of the looks of the pair, and gorgeous men had always fallen at her feet. Emma straightened her back, knowing that she had to put aside her nerves if she were to have any hope of getting this bastard to own up to his responsibilities.
“Yes, sir?”
He shifted a little in his seat, unintentionally drawing her attention to the breadth of his shoulders. He was wearing a traditional white robe, but she knew beneath it was a honed, muscular body. He was a giant of a man, at least six and a half feet, with a rippling six pack and narrow hips. She knew this because he’d gone swimming the day before, and she hadn’t been able to avoid seeing how perfectly sculptured his body was in just a black bathing suit.
“Leave us.” He addressed the man sitting opposite; who Emma gathered was a high level advisor. She felt her stress rising as the man exited the luxurious chamber, then, the rest of the staff followed suit. She tried to catch the eye of her friend Becky but it was no use. Rats! She was trapped. Alone with the Sheikh.
“Please, sit.” Even his voice was sexy! Rich and deep, with the hint of an exotic accent.
In the normal course of events, Emma would have politely declined. But one did not simply decline an invitation to join Sheikh Rafiq Al Sadini, exalted ruler of one of the super oil-rich nations. She slowly eased herself into the armchair opposite, unconsciously toying with her pearl earring.
Her skin prickled under his steady observation. He made no attempt to hide his curiosity as he took in her red hair, pulled into the severe braid she always wore. Her face was passably pretty, with wide set blue eyes, pale skin and a sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her nose. But from then on, it was downhill. Unlike reed thin Cassandra, Emma was curvy in a way she had always hated. As the Sheikh slowly dragged his eyes down her frame now, she forgot to be ashamed of her looks; and she forgot to be furious with this lying rat. Instead, she felt an inexplicable pool of awareness in the pit of her stomach. It caught her totally by surprise. She had taken this job purely to confront this man. The last thing she wanted was to feel desire for one of her sister’s ex-lovers. Especially this one, who’d so callously broken her heart.
