âI have a proposition.â
âWhich is?â
Qadir smiled. âYou may have noticed my fatherâs efforts to interest me in a woman. Heâs determined to get all his sons married as quickly as possible.â
âTypical father behaviour,â Maggie said.
âThe only way to get him to back off is to give him the impression Iâm involved with someone.â
She nodded. âThat would probably work.â
âIâm glad you agree. So I propose an arrangement between us. We would date for a period of weeks. Perhaps three or four months, then say weâre engaged.â
She opened her mouth, then closed it. He couldnât be saying what she thought he was saying.
âI⦠You⦠Itâsâ¦â
âA relationship of convenience. You will consent to be someone I become involved with for an agreed-upon period of time, say six months.â
He wanted to fake date? Then get fake engaged to her?!
SUSAN MALLERY
is a bestselling author of more than eighty romances. Her combination of humour, emotion and just-plain-sexy has made her a reader favourite. Susan makes her home in Washington state, where the whole rain thing is highly exaggerated and thereâs plenty of coffee to help her meet her deadlines. Visit her website at www.SusanMallery.com.
Dear Reader,
One of the best things about being a writer is creating characters who become so real I want them as friends. Maggie Collins is one of those special people. Sheâs funny, sheâs flawed, sheâs very clear on her strong points and her limitations. Sheâs the kind of friend who would loan you her favourite sweater for a hot date, then not be mad if you spilled salsa on it.
Her first experience with a handsome prince, who just happens to be a sheikh, is a little disappointing. Heâs just a normal man. OK, a very rich, good-looking guy. And thereâs a teeny tiny chance he makes her heart beat faster when theyâre together. But sheâs just a ordinary girl from Colorado. Not exactly princess material.
So when Prince Qadir proposes a fake relationship to convince his father heâs unavailable for an arranged marriage, Maggie goes along for the ride. After all, how often does a girl like her get to pretend she could actually belong to a prince? Thereâs no way her heart is going to get involved. Sheâs smarter than thatâ¦or so she hopes.
This is one of my favourite stories ever. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Susan Mallery
Chapter One
Maggie Collins hated to admit it but the reality was, she was a tiny bit disappointed by her first meeting with a real, live prince.
The trip to El Deharia had been great. Sheâd flown first-class, which was just as fabulous as it looked in the movies. When sheâd landed, sheâd been whisked by limo to a fancy hotel. Until then, her only other limo experience had been for her prom and then she and her date had been sharing it and the expense with six other couples.
Arriving at the exclusive Hotel El Deharia, sheâd been shown to a suite with a view of the Arabian Sea. The living room alone had been about the same size as the two-bedroom house sheâd grown up in back in Aspen.
She also couldnât complain about the palace. It was big and beautiful and historic-looking. But honestly, the offices where she was supposed to be meeting Prince Qadir werenât anything special. They were just offices. And everyone was dressed so professionally in conservative suits. Sheâd been hoping for harem pants and a tiara or two. Of course, as sheâd mostly seen men, a tiara was probably out of place.
The thought of the older British gentleman who had shown her into the office wearing a tiara made her giggle. She was still laughing when the door opened and a tall man in yet another suit walked in.
âGood morning,â he said as he approached. âI am Prince Qadir.â
Maggie sighed in disappointment. Yes, the prince was very handsome, but there was nothing different about him. No medals, not even a crown or a scepter or some proof of rank.
âWell, darn,â she murmured.
Prince Qadir raised his eyebrows. âExcuse me?â
Had she said that aloud? Oops. âI, ahâ¦â She swallowed and then squared her shoulders. âPrince Qadir,â she said as she walked toward him and held out her hand. âVery nice to meet you. Iâm Maggie Collins. Weâve been corresponding via e-mail.â
He took her hand in his and shook it. âIâm aware of that, Ms. Collins. I believe my last note to you said I preferred to work with your father.â
âYet the ticket was in my name,â she said absently as she dropped her arm to her side, aware that even though she was five-ten, he was still much taller than her.
âI sent you each a ticket. Did he not use his?â
âNo, he didnât.â She glanced out the window at the formal garden below. âMy fatherâ¦â She cleared her throat and returned her attention to the prince. This was not the time to get sad again. She was here to do business. âMy father died four months ago.â
âMy condolences.â