Shackled To The Sheikh. Trish Morey
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‘I want to spend the night with you.’
‘One night,’ Rashid said, and she recognised it as a warning. ‘That’s all I can offer you.’
‘Perfect,’ Tora said with a smile, because that was all she wanted. One night to forget her scheming, cheating cousin. ‘One night is all I want.’
Tomorrow she could pick up the shattered pieces of her promises and work out where she went from here.
His eyes glinted in the street lighting—a flash of victory that came with a spark of heat—and he reached out his fingers to push a wayward tendril of her hair behind her ear. It made her skin tingle.
‘My name is Rashid.’
‘Tora,’ she said, even as she trembled under his touch.
He took her hand and brought it to his mouth, pressing it to his lips. ‘Come, Tora …’ he said.
Bound by duty, undone by passion!
These sheikhs may not be brothers by blood, but they are united by the code of the desert.
Their power and determination is legendary and unchallenged—until unexpected encounters with women strong enough to equal them threaten their self-control …
Read the two concluding stories in Trish Morey’s exciting quartet of searing passion and sizzling drama!
Captive of Kadar May 2015
Shackled to the Sheikh November 2015
Shackled to the Sheikh
Trish Morey
TRISH MOREY always fancied herself a writer—so why she became a chartered accountant is anyone’s guess! But once she’d found her true calling there was no turning back. Mother of four budding heroines and wife to one true-life hero, Trish lives in an idyllic region of South Australia. Is it any wonder she believes in happy-ever-afters?
Find her at trishmorey.com or facebook.com/trish.morey
To my amazing readers,
with grateful thanks and wishing you love always,
Trish
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Contents
RASHID AL KHARIM was done with pacing.
He needed something stronger.
He needed to lose himself. To dull the pain of each and every one of today’s revelations, if only for a few precious hours.
To forget about a father who hadn’t died thirty years back as he’d always believed, but a scant four weeks ago.
And to forget about a tiny child—a sister—who apparently was now his responsibility...
His head full of anger and torment, he let the door of his Sydney hotel suite slam hard behind him as he strode towards the lifts, stabbing the call button with intent, because he knew exactly what he needed right now.
A woman.
GOD, SHE HATED dingy bars. Outside this one had looked like an escape from her anger and despair, but inside it was dark and noisy and there were far too many leering men who looked way too old to be hanging out in a place where the average age of women was probably somewhere around nineteen. Tora upped the demographic just by being there, she figured, not to mention lowered the average heel height by a matter of inches, but it didn’t stop the old guys leering at her just the same.
But the bar was only a few steps from her cousin’s office and after an hour remonstrating