The Sheikh's Wedding Contract. Andie Brock
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Dedicated bachelors Rocco Mondelli, Christian Markos, Stefan Bianco and Zayed Al Afzal met and bonded at university, wreaking havoc amongst the female population. In the decade since graduating they’ve made their mark on the worlds of business and pleasure, becoming wealthy and powerful.
Marriage has never been something Rocco, Christian, Stefan or Zayed were ever after … But things change, and now they’ll have to do whatever it takes to get themselves to the church on time!
Yet nothing is as easy as it seems … and the women these four have set their sights on have plans of their own!
Your embossed invitation is in the mail and you are cordially invited to:
The marriage of
Rocco Mondelli and Olivia Fitzgerald April 2015
The marriage of
Christian Markos and Alessandra Mondelli May 2015
The marriage of
Stefan Bianco and Clio Norwood June 2015
The marriage of
Sheikh Zayed Al Afzal and Princess Nadia Amani July 2015
So RSVP and get ready to enjoy the pinnacle of luxury and opulence as the world’s sexiest billionaires finally say ‘I do’ …
The Sheikh’s Wedding Contract
Andie Brock
ANDIE BROCK started inventing imaginary friends around the age of four and is still doing that today—only now the sparkly fairies have made way for spirited heroines and sexy heroes. Thankfully she now has some real friends, as well as a husband and three children, plus a grumpy but lovable cat. Andie lives in Bristol, and when not actually writing could well be plotting her next passionate romance story.
To my daughter, Katherine.
For her help and encouragement and most of all her patience!
Thank you, Kit. X
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
SOCIETY WEDDINGS EXCLUSIVE
STEFAN AND CLIO'S WEDDING DAY
NADIA JUST HOPED she wasn’t too late. As she neared the palace gates she could see groups of young women were already leaving, their diaphanous costumes fluttering as they hurried away, like colourful butterflies.
Inside the domed entrance to the palace she found herself being jostled by the departing throng of the harem, for that was what they were. The most beautiful women in the kingdom, bedecked and bejewelled, to be presented before the newly crowned Sheikh Zayed Al Afzal for his amusement and pleasure. Except that it seemed none of them had been deemed suitable. Had the sheikh dismissed them all, finding none of them good enough for his high and mighty standards? Certainly by the forbidding look on the guards’ faces, the way they were herding the woman from the palace, it would appear that something had gone very wrong.
Well, she would just have to try harder. Ducking down, Nadia snatched up a fistful of the gauzy material of her skirt and, making herself as small as possible, started to dodge between the legs of the departing guests. She made it to the doorway and luck was with her as the eyes of the towering bodyguard were momentarily distracted by the exposed curves of a departing guest.
This was her chance. She started to run madly, breathlessly, along the wide hallway, her sandals squeaking on the marble floor, the bracelets on her arms and ankles and the heavily jewelled belt around her hips all jangling in a cacophony of giveaway noise.
There was an open door in front of her and blindly she ran towards it, with no plan in her head other than that she must not be stopped. She had to get in to see Sheikh Zayed Al Afzal.
Skidding to a halt, she found herself in the middle of an enormous glittering stateroom. And there, seated on a gilded throne on a raised dais at the far end of the room, was Sheikh Zayed.
They stared at one another. With her breath heaving, Nadia felt the hated bra top cutting into her and accentuating the swell of her breasts, her stomach muscles contracting beneath the jewelled belly button, her whole body exposed in a hideous betrayal of everything she believed in.
And she had certainly got his attention. She could feel the sheikh’s eyes raking over her semi-naked body, her skin prickling with heat and self-consciousness in the wake of his sweeping gaze.
She knew this was her moment, her one chance, and she had to make it pay. But still she faltered. For this Sheikh Zayed was not what she had been expecting at all. He was tall and strikingly handsome, his long legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles. He wore a dark Western suit with elegant ease, and as Nadia raised her eyes she took in the broad expanse of his chest, the white shirt, the tie roughly pulled to one side. His hands, she noticed, were gripping the lions’ heads on the arms of the throne, at odds with his relaxed posture.
Make eye contact, that was what she had to do now. Taking in a short, brave breath, she tipped back her head and braced herself to meet his gaze full on. She could do this. But what she saw was so much worse than she’d thought. For what halted the breath in her throat, sent her determination skittering sideways, was not the cruel eyes of the heartless killer she was expecting but something far more dangerous. They were beautiful eyes, a deep, dark chocolate brown, steady, assured and all seeing. The sort of eyes that could