is one of Mills & Boonâs most popular and bestselling novelists. Her writing was an instant success with readers worldwide. Since her first book, Bittersweet Passion, was published in 1987, she has gone from strength to strength and now has over ninety titles, which have sold more than thirty-five million copies, to her name.
In this special collection, we offer readers a chance to revisit favourite books or enjoy that rare treasureâa book by a favourite writerâthey may have missed. In every case, seduction and passion with a gorgeous, irresistible man are guaranteed!
âHAVE I met anyone whom I would like to marry?â Rashad, Crown Prince of Bakhar almost laughed out loud as he considered his fatherâs gently voiced question. Engrained good manners, however, restrained such a blunt response. âNo, I fear not.â
King Hazar surveyed his son and heir with concealed disquiet. His guilty conscience was pricked by the truth that he had been blessed by Rashadâs birth, for his son was everything a future monarch should be. His sterling qualities had shone like a beacon during those dark days when Bakhar had suffered under the despotic rule of Sadiq, Hazarâs uncle. In the eyes of the people, Rashad could do no wrong; he had endured many cruelties, but had still emerged a hero from the war that had restored the legitimate line to the throne. Even the rumours that the Crown Prince was regarded as a notorious womaniser abroad barely raised a brow, since it was accepted that he had earned the right to enjoy his liberty.
âThere comes a time when a man must settle down,â King Hazar remarked with all the awkwardness of one who had never been anything other than settled in his habits. âAnd put aside more worldly pursuits.â
His lean and darkly handsome features grim, Rashad stared stonily out at the exquisite gardens that were his fatherâs pride and joy. Maybe when he was older he too would get a thrill out of pruning topiary, he reflected wryly. Although he had a great affection for the older man, father and son were not close. How could they have been? Rashad had been only four years old when heâd been torn from his motherâs arms and denied all further contact with his parents. In the following two decades, he had learned to trust nobody and keep his own counsel. By the time he had been reunited with his family, he had been an adult, a survivor and a battle-hardened soldier, trained to put duty and discipline above all other virtues. But on this particular issue he was not prepared to meet his fatherâs expectations.
âI donât want to get married,â Rashad declared levelly.
King Hazar was unprepared for that bold response, which offered neither apology nor the possibility of compromise. Assuming that he had broached the subject clumsily, he said earnestly, âI believe that marriage will greatly add to your happiness.â
Rashad almost winced at that simplistic assurance. He had no such expectation. Only once had a woman made Rashad happy, but almost as quickly he had discovered that he was living in a foolâs paradise. He had never forgotten the lesson. He liked his freedom and he liked sex. In short he enjoyed women, but there was only one space for a woman to fill in his private life and that was in his bed. And just as, when it came to food, he preferred a varied diet, he had no desire to have any woman foisted on him on a permanent basis. âIâm afraid I cannot agree with you on that issue.â
The older man ignored the decided chill that laced the atmosphere and suppressed a sigh. He wished that heâd had the opportunity to acquire just a smidgeon of his sonâs superior education and sophistication so that they might talk on more equal terms. Most of all he longed for the ability to deal with the son he loved with a wholly clear conscience, but unhappily that was not possible. âI have never known us to be at odds. I must have expressed my hopes badly. Or perhaps I took you too much by surprise.â
Rashad folded his wide sensual mouth. âNothing you could say will change my mind. I have no desire for a wife.â
âRashadâ¦â His royal father was aghast at the stubborn inflexibility of that refusal, for his son was not known for his changeability. âYou are so popular with our people that I believe you could marry any woman you chose. Perhaps you are concerned about the type of woman you might be expected to marry. It is my belief that even a foreigner would be acceptable.â
Brilliant dark eyes veiled and grim, Rashad had fallen very still at that reference to the possibility of a foreign bride. He wondered if the older man was recalling his sonâs disastrous infatuation with an Englishwoman five years ago. The very suspicion of that stung Rashadâs ferocious pride. He and his father had buried the ill-fated episode without ever discussing it.