I know I’ve been terrible with emails lately.
I’m sorry, but when you read this, you’re going to understand. I’ve met someone. Someone special.
Oh boy, I hope you’re both sitting down.
Because I’ve just agreed to marry him.
And that’s not even the shocking part…
She smiled as she hit send, imagining what her sisters’ reactions would be when they learned she was going to become Sheikha of a country like Dashan. She thought of the Sultan’s words in describing his wife, and they took on a whole new clarity for Olivia.
She had travelled the world, and never felt satisfied. But the air of Dashan was soothing to her soul. Here, surrounded by desert, with the man she loved at her side, she was truly home.
And she’d never felt happier.
THE END
Following is an excerpt from THE GREEK’S MARRIAGE REVENGE by Clare Connelly, book one in THE HENDERSON SISTER SERIES.
THE GREEK’S MARRIAGE REVENGE
Clare Connelly
All the characters in this book are fictitious and have no existence outside the author’s imagination. They have no relation to anyone bearing the same name or names and are pure invention.
All rights reserved. The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reprinted by any means without permission of the Author.
The illustration on the cover of this book features model/s and bears no relation to the characters described within.
First published 2015
(c) Clare Connelly
Photo Credit: dollarphotoclub.com/Aleksandr Doodko
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http://www.clareconnelly.co.uk
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PROLOGUE.
Twenty years earlier.
“I’m so hungry,” Helena shivered, her frail seven-year-old frame curled over like a conch shell. The rain was lashing in from every direction, but she had the most sheltered spot in the litter-strewn street. Beneath a threadbare awning, her grotty face dry, her matted hair only a little damp; it was the best Alessandro could do.
“I’m going to find you something to eat,” Alex swore with more determination than clue. “And one day, Helena, we’re going to live like Kings.”
Helena’s teeth chattered. “I-I-I’m not a boy.”
“No,” he agreed, looking from one direction to the other. The commuters were still drifting down the cobbled laneway. It was too early. Soon, though, he’d head out to the restaurant precinct and take what he could. Discarded meals, ignored wallets. Anything that would keep his little sister going. It was harder for her. She was so skinny her bones were protruding through her olive skin; he was big and strong, despite the hunger that constantly gnawed at his gut. He’d got used to it. At fourteen, he could rationalise it. He could tell himself it was temporary.