Desert Prince, Bride of Innocence

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Desert Prince, Bride of Innocence Page 16

by Lynne Graham


  It was their fourth wedding anniversary and Elinor was content to look back on the three wonderful years she had shared with Jasim. They were rarely apart for, as his father’s heir, Jasim travelled a great deal less. King Akil had outlived all the gloomy forecasts and, although he was by no means a well man, he had regained his appetite and a little weight and was certainly looking a good deal better. Jasim and his father often worked together now and had grown a great deal closer and that improved relationship had brought Jasim peace after his turbulent, unhappy childhood.

  Elinor too led a very busy life. She had been asked to open the new hotel and leisure complex in Muscar. Soon afterwards she had agreed to help raise funds for a charity for premature babies, an interest that had led to countless hospital visits and other requests for her support. When Jasim was so much in demand she felt it was important that she had her own concerns and, between those and her desire to spend as much time as possible with her children while they were still so young, her daily schedule was pretty packed. Whenever she was in England she met up with Alissa and Lindy and she loved escaping the pomp and ceremony of life in Quaram to be treated just as a friend.

  How had she dealt with Laila? Elinor’s eyes sparkled at the recollection. She had leant on Jasim to issue invitations to palace functions to every eligible man he knew and, before very long, romance had worked its magic and Laila had been married and swept off to Oman by a very rich and besotted sheikh. Elinor got on very well with Laila’s mother, Mouna, who looked on her as an extra daughter and adored the children.

  Elinor had seen very little of her father in recent years but that was only what she had expected. Ernest Tempest had little interest in his grandchildren, and once he had satisfied his curiosity about the ancient history of Quaram further visits had had little appeal for the older man. Elinor believed she had already received more warm appreciation and encouragement from Jasim’s father than she had ever received from her own.

  At the King’s instigation, the old rambling palace in the desert outside the city had been renovated from top to bottom and the royal household had moved back there. Murad’s monstrous noisy marble palace was now being used by the government as a conference centre, a parliamentary building and a museum. Yaminah had remarried and become stepmother to several children with her second husband. She had attended Jasim’s birthday party the previous year. Elinor had enjoyed seeing Zahrah again and Yaminah had been scrupulously polite and pleasant as though all her wild suspicions had been laid in the grave with her first husband.

  ‘What a picture you make,’ Jasim breathed from the doorway.

  In a whirl of fabric as her glamorous gown spun out round her, Elinor sped over to him. ‘I thought you were going to be late—’

  ‘For my anniversary dinner with my beautiful wife? Never!’ Jasim teased, dark golden eyes smouldering with sensual appreciation over her before he curved an arm round her and walked round the nursery, bending down to say goodnight to Sami, laughing at the way Mariyah was curled up in one corner of her cot and smiling down at Tarif. ‘But before we eat, I have something to show you. Unfortunately you’re rather overdressed for our destination.’

  ‘Shall I change?’ Elinor asked.

  ‘No, you look fabulous and I want to feast my eyes on you.’

  ‘The emeralds are way over the top,’ she sighed, her fingertips brushing the superb necklace.

  ‘That was my father’s gift,’ he reminded her. ‘And he doesn’t do cheap or ordinary.’

  She giggled like mad when he carried her out of the house and stashed her in the Range Rover parked out front. ‘Where on earth are we going?’

  Jasim turned the car in the direction of the stables and she sat up straight, her level of interest growing, for the year before Jasim had given her a superb mare and she was a good deal more interested in horse flesh than she was in jewellery.

  He helped her out and guided her over to the stables while she gathered her skirt up in one hand to stop it trailing. ‘I have a surprise for you.’

  ‘If it’s got four legs, I’ll love you for ever…well, I’ll love you for ever whatever you do but more particularly if it’s a live present.’

  ‘Hush, habibti,’ Jasim urged. ‘She’s been a little neglected and she’s rather nervous, so the staff haven’t subjected her to a decent grooming as yet.’

  ‘Who?’ Elinor was now nestling under his arm like a purring cat, for whenever he called her habibti, which meant ‘beloved’, she just melted inside.

  A shaggy greyish-white head poked anxiously out over the stable door. The elderly animal in no way resembled the pedigree, perfectly groomed horses that usually occupied the boxes. Elinor stared at the homely mare with huge rounded eyes. ‘Starlight?’ she whispered in disbelief, her voice cracking with emotion. She moved closer. ‘My word, you’ve found Starlight for me! Is it any wonder that you’re the love of my life?’

  Jasim stood back watching while she petted the horse she had adored as a teenager and which her father had sold. He told her something of the mare’s history since then and her eyes glistened with tears. After she had coaxed Starlight into trusting her again, she turned back to Jasim and flung herself at him in a passion of gratitude, hugging and kissing him with abandon.

  ‘You really are wonderful,’ she told him with shining eyes.

  ‘You’re the wonder in my life, habibti. I have you and I have three beautiful children, and I feel as though you have given me the whole world,’ Jasim murmured huskily, studying her with quiet adoration.

  Happiness bubbled up inside Elinor. ‘I love you,’ she whispered. ‘And every day I’m with you, I love you a little more.’

  All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention.

  All Rights Reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises II BV/S.à.r.l. The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher.

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the prior consent of the publisher in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  ® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

  First published in Great Britain 2009

  Harlequin Mills & Boon Limited,

  Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR

  © Lynne Graham 2009

  ISBN: 978 1 408 91285 0

  Table of Contents

  Cover Page

  Excerpt

  Other Books By

  Title Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Copyright

 

 

 
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