His Defiant Desert Queen. Jane Porter
Читать онлайн книгу.
2a5-888f-a4f995a6fcbe">
“I am to decide your punishment for you,” Mikael said finally.
“What are the choices?”
“Seven years’ house arrest here in Haslam—”
“Seven years?”
“Or I take you as my wife.”
“That’s not funny. Not even remotely funny.”
“It’s not a joke. I either marry you, or leave you here in Haslam to begin your house arrest.”
He saw Jemma recoil and her face turn white.
“I warned you that Sheikh Azizzi would not be lenient. He is not a Copeland fan either. He knows what your father did to my mother, and he wants to send a message that Saidia will not tolerate crime or immorality.”
“But seven years!” She reached for the edge of the table to steady herself. “That’s … that’s … so long.”
“Seven years or marriage,” he corrected.
“No. No. Marriage isn’t an option. I won’t marry you. I would never marry you. I could never marry you.”
A family in the headlines—for all the wrong reasons!
For the Copeland family each day brings another tabloid scandal. Their world was one of unrivalled luxury and glittering social events. Now their privileged life is nothing but a distant memory …
Staring the taunting paparazzi straight in the eye, the Copeland heirs seek to start new lives—with no one to rely on but themselves.
At least that’s what they think …!
It seems fame and riches can’t buy happiness—but they make it fun trying!
Read Morgan Copeland’s story in:
The Fallen Greek Bride
Read Jemma Copeland’s story in:
His Defiant Desert Queen
Look out for more scandalous stories about
The Disgraced Copelands
by Jane Porter
Coming soon!
His Defiant Desert Queen
Jane Porter
New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author JANE PORTER has written forty romances and eleven women’s fiction novels since her first sale to Mills & Boon® Modern™ Romance in 2000. A five-time RITA® finalist, Jane is known for her passionate, emotional and sensual novels, and loves nothing more than alpha heroes, exotic locations and happy-ever-afters. Today Jane lives in sunny San Clemente, California, with her surfer husband and three sons. Visit www.janeporter.com
For Lee Hyat,
who has been there every step of the way since reading
The Italian Groom! Thank you for being my first reader and a most loyal and cherished friend.
Contents
THE DISGRACED COPELANDS
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
SEETHING, SHEIKH MIKAEL KARIM, King of Saidia, watched the high fashion photo shoot taking place in the desert—his desert—wondering how anyone could think it was okay to enter a foreign country under a false identity and think he, or she, as it happened to be in this case, could get away with it.
Apparently the world was filled with fools.
Fools by the name of Copeland.
Jaw tight, temper barely leashed, Mikael waited for the right moment to intervene.
He’d been pushed too far, challenged directly, and he’d meet that challenge with swift retribution.
A king didn’t negotiate. A king never begged, and a king refused to curry favor.
Saidia might be a small kingdom, but it was powerful. And the government of Saidia might tolerate the West, but Westerners couldn’t enter Saidia, flaunt Saidia law, and think there would be no repercussions.
Jemma Copeland was a foolish woman. So like her father, thumbing her nose at the law, believing she was above it.
Perhaps Daniel Copeland had got away with his crimes. But his daughter would not be so lucky. Miss Jemma Copeland was going to pay.
NECESSITY HAD TAUGHT Jemma Copeland to shut out distractions.
She’d learned to ignore the things she didn’t want to think about, to enable her to do what needed to be done.
So for the past two hours she’d ignored the scorching heat of the Sahara. The insistent, hollow ache in her stomach. The stigma of being a Copeland, and what it meant back home in the United States.
She’d blocked out heat, hunger, and shame, but she couldn’t block out the tall, white-robed man standing just a foot behind the photographer, watching her through dark, unsmiling eyes while a half dozen robed men stood behind him.
She