The Sheikh's Last Mistress. Rachael Thomas
ection id="u0d0fdc28-46bf-56e6-8d1d-6aaf3f7475da">
‘I shouldn’t want you—I can’t want you—but I do.’
Zafir kissed her neck and she leant her head back against him, allowing him more access. A shiver of anticipation darted around her body as his lips touched every bit of naked skin on her neck.
‘Neither of us should want this, but we do.’ Destiny’s words were a ragged whisper as her heart thudded in her chest. She wanted to turn to him, to press her lips against his, but at the same time couldn’t break the tenuous contact they now shared. ‘Let’s just forget the rest of the world for a few hours—forget everything except what we feel now.’
His kisses stilled and she felt his chest expanding against her back with every deep breath he took. Had she said too much—again?
‘I want to forget it all,’ he said, and pressed his lips into her hair, inhaling deeply as if taking in her scent. ‘I want you in a way I’ve never wanted a woman before. But I can’t be like other men. I have a duty to my country.’
‘Just for these hours of darkness,’ she whispered, and opened her eyes to look once again at the stars. ‘That’s all we need, Zafir, just one night.’
RACHAEL THOMAS has always loved reading romance, and is thrilled to be a Mills & Boon author. She lives and works on a farm in Wales—a far cry from the glamour of a Mills & Boon Modern story—but that makes slipping into her characters’ worlds all the more appealing. When she’s not writing, or working on the farm, she enjoys photography and visiting historical castles and grand houses. Visit her at rachaelthomas.co.uk.
The Sheikh’s
Last Mistress
Rachael Thomas
MILLS & BOON
Before you start reading, why not sign up?
Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!
Or simply visit
Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.
For James, Marian and David.
Contents
ZAFIR AL ASMARI WAS SCEPTICAL as he drove towards the old red-brick house, which was a stark contrast to the immaculate penthouse he’d just left in London. Was it possible the woman he was seeking really worked here? This riding school, nestled in the countryside beyond London, certainly looked as if it had seen better days—not at all where he had imagined finding Destiny Richards. Her reputation with difficult horses had made him travel from Kezoban personally to seek her out.
He parked his black sports car and got out, unsure if he should even continue with this madness. He must have been misinformed. Destiny Richards wouldn’t be working somewhere so ordinary. Nothing about the old house or tired-looking sheds gave any hint of being professional stables. He was on the point of leaving when movement inside the shed beyond the house caught his eye.
Zafir walked forward, his shoes crunching on the grit of the driveway, and, unable to contain his curiosity, looked into the building being used as the riding school. Through an open door, he could see a tall, slim young woman lunging a chestnut horse around her. Intrigued, he walked down the side of the house, intent on seeing exactly who this woman was. If she was Destiny Richards, he could settle his unease and confirm he’d done the right thing by hiring her before coming to meet her personally.
‘Ah, you have arrived.’ A sharp female voice behind him dragged his attention from the young woman and horse. He stopped, turning abruptly to an older and somewhat overenthusiastic woman. ‘Are you here for the Sheikh? To see Destiny work her magic?’
Zafir narrowed his eyes. Instinct warned him of this woman’s insincerity. Her overzealous attitude jarred his nerves, but if she thought he was here for the Sheikh instead of actually being the Sheikh, then so much the better. He could ascertain if Destiny Richards did indeed possess the gift of horse whispering, something he very much hoped was true, but right now, given the surroundings, he was inclined to think he’d been misled.
‘I am and I don’t have time to waste. Where is Ms Richards?’
‘My daughter is in the school. This way.’ She gestured with a