The Desert Sheikh's Captive Wife by Lynne Graham

He wished that he’d had the opportunity to acquire just a smidgeon of his son’s superior education and sophistication so that they might talk on more equal terms. The older man ignored the decided chill that laced the atmosphere and suppressed a sigh. ‘I’m afraid I cannot agree with you on that issue.’ And just as, when it came to food, he preferred a varied diet, he had no desire to have any woman foisted on him on a permanent basis. In short he enjoyed women, but there was only one space for a woman to fill in his private life and that was in his bed. Only once had a woman made Rashad happy, but almost as quickly he had discovered that he was living in a fool’s paradise. Rashad almost winced at that simplistic assurance. Assuming that he had broached the subject clumsily, he said earnestly, ‘I believe that marriage will greatly add to your happiness.’ King Hazar was unprepared for that bold response, which offered neither apology nor the possibility of compromise. I don’t want to get married,’ Rashad declared levelly. But on this particular issue he was not prepared to meet his father’s expectations.‘ By the time he had been reunited with his family, he had been an adult, a survivor and a battle-hardened soldier, trained to put duty and discipline above all other virtues. In the following two decades, he had learned to trust nobody and keep his own counsel. How could they have been? Rashad had been only four years old when he’d been torn from his mother’s arms and denied all further contact with his parents. Although he had a great affection for the older man, father and son were not close. Maybe when he was older he too would get a thrill out of pruning topiary, he reflected wryly. His lean and darkly handsome features grim, Rashad stared stonily out at the exquisite gardens that were his father’s pride and joy. ‘There comes a time when a man must settle down,’ King Hazar remarked with all the awkwardness of one who had never been anything other than settled in his habits.

Even the rumours that the Crown Prince was regarded as a notorious womaniser abroad barely raised a brow, since it was accepted that he had earned the right to enjoy his liberty. In the eyes of the people, Rashad could do no wrong he had endured many cruelties, but had still emerged a hero from the war that had restored the legitimate line to the throne. His sterling qualities had shone like a beacon during those dark days when Bakhar had suffered under the despotic rule of Sadiq, Hazar’s uncle.

His guilty conscience was pricked by the truth that he had been blessed by Rashad’s birth, for his son was everything a future monarch should be.

King Hazar surveyed his son and heir with concealed disquiet. Engrained good manners, however, restrained such a blunt response. ‘HAVE I met anyone whom I would like to marry?’ Rashad, Crown Prince of Bakhar almost laughed out loud as he considered his father’s gently voiced question.

The Desert Sheikh's Captive Wife by Lynne Graham