Sue Swift

Engaged To The Sheikh


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      He’d noticed her as soon as she’d walked into the bar.

      Her hair, an unusual shade of red-gold, would make her a standout in any gathering. Did Selina Carrington’s red hair reflect a passionate nature?

      Her petal-perfect complexion, set off by a few stray freckles, heightened her natural, sexy allure.

      And she was mouthy. Many American women were. But Selina’s rosy lips were pretty enough that he preferred to silence her with a kiss.

      If only she wasn’t at the resort with her grandfather, Kamar’s associate.

      Kam liked women—many women—but he never conducted liaisons with business contacts or their families. With a sigh, he mentally classified the stunning Selina as off-limits….

      Engaged to the Sheikh

      Sue Swift

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      SUE SWIFT

      Since 2000, Sue Swift has published five books and two short stories, an amazing feat for someone whose major focus in life is perfecting her slap shot.

      It’s fitting that the theme of her books is personal growth and transformation, since Sue has transformed from a librarian to a trial attorney to a novelist. Her books have won awards too numerous to list; her first Silhouette novel reached the finals of the prestigious RITA® Award contest. She’s active in the Romance Writers of America, serving as president of her local chapter in 2001. She also lectures to authors’ groups on various topics about writing.

      A self-proclaimed jock, Sue is probably the only Silhouette author to own both a second-degree black belt in karate and ice hockey gear. She and her real-live hero of a husband live in Fair Oaks, California, with two retrievers and several dozen orchids.

      She loves to hear from readers, especially through her Web site at sueswift.com. Her mailing address is P.O. Box 241, Citrus Heights, CA 95611-0241.

      The Tale of the Robe of Feathers

      [Source: F. Hadland Davis, Myths and Legends of Japan

       (London: G. G. Harrap and Company, 1913), pp. 127-129.]

      Once, a fisherman sat down to enjoy the shore. There he saw, hanging from a pine, a beautiful robe of pure white feathers. No sooner had he taken the robe, then a beautiful maiden from the sea requested he return the robe to her.

      The maiden proclaimed that she could not return to her celestial home without the robe, but the hard-hearted fisherman refused to be swayed. The robe was a marvel he intended to keep.

      But after further pleading he relented. “I will return it to you, if you will dance for me.”

      The maiden agreed. “I will dance the movements that make the Palace of the Moon turn round, but I cannot dance without my feathers.”

      The fisherman was at first suspicious, but seeing that she was a heavenly being who would keep her promise, he trusted her.

      When she had put on her garment, she danced and sang of the Palace of the Moon. Soon, she lifted into the air, white of her robe shining against the sky. She rose, playing and singing, beyond the mountains and into the ether, until she reached the glorious Palace of the Moon.

      Contents

      Prologue

      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

      Chapter Fourteen

      Chapter Fifteen

      Chapter Sixteen

      Chapter Seventeen

      Chapter Eighteen

      Chapter Nineteen

      Chapter Twenty

      Epilogue

      Prologue

      La Torchere Resort, Florida’s Gulf Coast,

       Sunset, late July

      As she strode through the resort gardens toward the wharf, Merry Montrose tugged her enchanted cell phone from the side pocket of her navy linen suit.

      The result of a curse cast by her godmother, Merry was condemned to remain in the body of a crone unless she brought together twenty-one couples before she turned thirty.

      The screen of the magic phone, when correctly charmed, enabled her to check on the nineteen unions she’d arranged over the course of the seven-year curse. She wanted to make sure all was well with “her” couples.

      She flipped the phone open and tapped a button. Nothing.

      “Cockles and grouse,” she muttered. Unless those nineteen couples stayed happy and married, she’d not reach her goal. She still needed to arrange two more love matches within a few weeks or she’d forever lose everything that had made her life fun.

      Merry had been a princess—Princess Meredith of Silestia, an enchanted island in the Adriatic Sea. If she didn’t lift the curse, she could never return to her homeland, which she dearly loved. Instead, she’d be stuck in ElderHell as an old lady with a bad temper and aching joints.

      Initially stumped by her situation, Merry had talked her way into a management job at an exclusive Florida resort. A perfect hunting ground, La Torchere featured romantic gardens and beautiful beaches and attracted plenty of singles ready to fall in love. All she had to do was throw together men and women who were eager for romance.

      Even better, she’d learned that some people who weren’t happy were often the most willing to take the plunge into matrimony, as though marriage would solve their problems. Formerly cynical, Merry had been startled to see that love often smoothed the road through life.

      Despite the occasional interference of her godmother, Lissa, who’d gotten herself a job as a concierge at La Torchere, matters were humming along perfectly.

      Or so Merry hoped. With her enchanted cell phone on the fritz, she couldn’t be sure. She shook the wretched thing again.

      Having magical gifts wasn’t all the fairy tales said it was. This cell phone, for instance, sometimes worked and sometimes it didn’t. She glared in the general direction of the resort, wondering if her interfering, know-it-all godmother had hexed the phone.

      “Cell phone, cell phone, let me see, all the marriages due to me.” Still nothing.

      Merry smacked the cell phone against her thigh, and the thing crackled to life. She shuttled through her weekly check of the magic nineteen, dreaming of when she could increase their number. Her fingers danced, tippety tapping on the buttons.

      Ah. The phone’s tiny screen showed her latest success, Brad and Parris Smith. They’d been a tough match, he a scruffy scientist and she a socialite too spoiled for her own good. But now Brad was feeding Parris breakfast in bed: a marmalade-laden muffin, followed by a kiss.

      Hastily Merry closed the cell phone with a snap, ruminating.

      She cast her eye toward the ferry dock. Sunset flamed across the sky, casting brilliant ribbons