Lord of the Desert

Lord of the Desert
Diana Palmer

Sheltered small-town girl Gretchen Brannon was out of her element when she aligned herself with Sheikh Philippe Sabon, the formidable ruler of Qawi. They came from different worlds, yet she found a soul mate in the powerful, sensual man who'd suppressed his passions for far too long–and harbored a secret anguish.Nevertheless, he made the virtuous young woman aware of her own courage…and, in turn, she aroused his sleeping senses as no other woman could. However, now that Gretchen's heart belonged to the Lord of the Desert, danger loomed when she became the target for vengeance by the sheikh's most diabolical enemy. In a final showdown that would pit good against evil, could love and destiny triumph…?

“You will be the only occupant of my harem, playing a part,” Philippe said.

Her body tingled. “Pretending to be your lover,” Gretchen said breathlessly.

“Yes.”

She felt deliciously hot all over. The thought of his mouth on hers made her knees weak. He wanted pretense. She wanted him, and was only just realizing it. All sorts of shocking, exciting images formed in her mind. “I have no idea how someone in a harem behaves,” she said.

“Nor have I,” he said with a touch of amusement. “We will have to learn together.”

Some of the uncertainty left her expression.

“At least your virtue would be completely safe with me.” He hoped. He didn’t dare tell her what her touch did to him.

“How far would this pretense have to go, exactly?” she wondered aloud.

“It would have to be convincing,” he said.

She lowered her eyes demurely. “You’d kiss me and…so forth?”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Yes. Especially and…so forth.”

“Nobody tops Diana Palmer…I love her stories.”

—Jayne Ann Krentz

Lord of the Desert

Diana Palmer

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

To Jim, Rhonda, Nancy, Amanda and Christian

(and Hugo)

with eternal thanks!

Contents

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 One

Tourists milled around the food court in the busy Brussels airport where the two American women were trying to decide what to do next.

The slender blond woman in the tan pantsuit was almost choked with mirth as she gazed mischievously up at her dark-haired, pacing companion in a green silk jacket and slacks. “Isn’t it ironic that we could starve to death surrounded by food?” Gretchen Brannon asked gleefully.

“Oh, do stop,” Maggie Barton groaned, looming over her laughing, near-hysterical companion. “We won’t starve, Gretchen. We can get Belgian francs. There are money-changing booths everywhere!” She waved her arms around expressively at the nearby shops, almost colliding with a passing couple in the crowded food court.

Gretchen’s green eyes twinkled. “Really? Where, exactly?”

Maggie let out a sigh as she tried unsuccessfully to remember enough French to read a sign.

Gretchen watched her through swollen eyelids. Unlike efficient Maggie, who could sleep on the plane, she’d been awake for almost thirty-six straight hours. “Can’t you just see the headlines?” Gretchen persisted. “‘Naïve Texas tourists found dead beside five-star restaurant…’!” She started laughing again.

Maggie was not amused. “Just sit right there. Don’t move.”

Gretchen submerged a mad impulse to salute. Maggie, twenty-six and three years older than Gretchen, worked for an investment firm in Houston where she was a junior partner. She had a take-charge manner that was occasionally a blessing. No doubt she’d find a way to get native currency and return loaded with food and drink.

Maggie came back with the money and sorted through it, frowning as she tried to remember how the currency changer had explained the coins. “We still have plenty of time to get something to eat and then take a tour of the city before our flight leaves for Casablanca this afternoon.”

Gretchen blinked sleepily. “Great idea, about the tour. Can you get a strong tour guide? I think I’ll need to be carried…”