Taming The Sheik. Carol GraceЧитать онлайн книгу.
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“I need a fiancée.”
Rafik gave Anne a rueful smile. “I don’t mean a real fiancée. Though that’s what my father wants for me. He thinks I should get married and settle down. I’m against that plan. What I’m looking for is someone who’s willing to pose as my fiancée for a short time.”
“So what’s the problem?” Anne replied. “How could a woman say no to a charming man like you?”
“Perhaps you’d consider…”
“Me?” Her eyes widened. “You thought I would pose as your fiancée? Why would I do that?”
“I thought after reflecting on that night we spent together, the hours we shared…you might feel differently about me.”
She stared at him. “According to you, nothing happened that night we spent together. That’s what you said. Nothing happened. Now I want to know the truth.”
“Ah, the truth. All I can say is that it was the most incredible night of my life.…”
Taming the Sheik
Carol Grace
MILLS & BOON
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Books by Carol Grace
Silhouette Romance
Make Room for Nanny #690
A Taste of Heaven #751
Home Is Where the Heart Is #882
Mail-Order Male #955
The Lady Wore Spurs #1010
*Lonely Millionaire #1057
*Almost a Husband #1105
*Almost Married #1142
The Rancher and the Lost Bride #1153
†Granted: Big Sky Groom #1277
†Granted: Wild West Bride #1303
†Granted: A Family for Baby #1345
Married to the Sheik #1391
The Librarian’s Secret Wish #1473
Fit for a Sheik #1500
Taming the Sheik #1554
Silhouette Desire
Wife for a Night #1118
The Heiress Inherits a Cowboy #1145
Expecting… #1205
The Magnificent M.D. #1284
CAROL GRACE
has always been interested in travel and living abroad. She spent her junior year of college in France and toured the world working on the hospital ship HOPE. She and her husband spent the first year and a half of their marriage in Iran, where they both taught English. She has studied Arabic and Persian languages. Then, with their toddler daughter, they lived in Algeria for two years.
Carol says that writing is another way of making her life exciting. Her office is her mountaintop home, which overlooks the Pacific Ocean and which she shares with her inventor husband, their daughter, who just graduated college, and their teenage son.
Contents
Chapter One
It was the most beautiful wedding of the year. The sun shone through the stained-glass windows of the church atop Nob Hill in San Francisco. The scent of roses filled the air. Bridal consultant Carolyn Evans walked down the aisle to marry Sheik Tarik Oman to the strains of the wedding march played on the magnificent pipe organ. It was an occasion no one would ever forget. Especially bridesmaid Anne Sheridan.
As the groom lifted the bride’s veil and kissed her, there wasn’t a dry eye in the front row where the family sat. Anne’s eyes filled with tears, too. So many they threatened to spill down her cheeks. But it was not because she was overcome with emotion or because her pink silk shoes pinched her toes. It was an allergic reaction. While many people were allergic to grasses and trees, she knew from being tested last year she was allergic to flowers. She was allergic to the peonies and lilies in her bouquet, to the stephanotis at the end of each aisle, and even to the arrangements of roses at the altar.
To prepare for the wedding and guard against sneezing in the middle of the ceremony, she’d asked her doctor for extra-strength antihistamines which she’d taken an hour ago. Even so, her throat was raw and her eyes watered. It was clear she’d need another pill before the flower-filled garden reception to be held at the groom’s mansion. Unable to reach for a tissue, she blinked back the tears and bit her lip. She was grateful all eyes were on the bride so no one would notice her red-rimmed eyes and obvious discomfort.
But someone did notice. One of the groomsmen at the altar was staring at her and not the bride. It was one of Sheik Tarik’s twin cousins she’d met the night before at the rehearsal dinner. He was good-looking in an exotic way, but she couldn’t tell the difference between the twin brothers. They’d both flirted with every woman there except for her. She wasn’t the type men flirted with. She was a sane and sensible private-school teacher who stayed in the background and watched the festivities.
Whichever twin he was, he wasn’t flirting now, he was just looking at her intently as if he couldn’t believe she was getting carried away and crying at her best friend’s wedding. He raised one eyebrow, and she knew he must think she was an emotional basket case. As if she cared. After today she’d never