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Salim looked into Rosanna’s face and knew she’d fallen for the old tale.

Slowly he nodded. ‘So the story goes.’

‘You don’t believe it?’ She studied him intently then shrugged, her mouth turning down at the corners, and lay down again.

Instantly Salim regretted puncturing her fantasy. Not because he couldn’t see her breasts any more. The view of her back, buttocks and legs was one of the finest vistas he’d ever enjoyed. But because he’d erased that smile.

‘I’m not a romantic. But you’re right, that’s the story. In fact, the story goes that sheikh after sheikh since then married for love.’

Until recently.

Her smile was back, mischievous this time, and he liked that too.

‘I love it! All those fierce rulers, so autocratic and powerful, turning weak at the knees for just the right woman.’

Of course she did. It was the sort of fantasy women adored.

‘After he acquired the fortress, the sheikh set about turning it into a private retreat for himself and his wife, and eventually their family. Tradition has it that he was the one who ordered the courtyard to be planted with flowers as well as the usual fruit trees and medicinal herbs. In every generation since, changes have been made, introducing more luxuries. Now the only real evidence of the fortress are its thick walls and the crenellations along the top.’

‘I like the fact it’s become a retreat for the royal family. It must be special to you.’

Salim nodded. ‘It is. I’ve been coming here for as long as I can remember.’

The caretakers here were like family to him, though on this visit he’d barely seen them, spending all his time with Rosanna.

‘So,’ Rosanna mused. ‘You come from a long line of romantics. I find that hard to believe.’

She didn’t need to mention his businesslike search for a wife. It was there between them, the elephant in the room. Time enough for that when they returned to the city.

‘You’re right. But I’m not actually descended from them.’

‘You’re not?’ Her eyes snapped open. ‘I thought the title passed from father to son?’

‘It does. Usually to the elder son, though in my case the Royal Council chose me over Fuad.’

An action which had sent his brother storming from the capital in a fit of fury. Straight to his death in a mangle of metal when his too-powerful car had crashed on a road not built for Formula One–style racing.

What would have happened if Fuad had survived? Salim couldn’t imagine him quietly sitting on the sidelines while his younger brother ruled.

‘How is it that you’re not from the same line?’

Salim hauled his thoughts back from Fuad’s death and his own conflicted feelings. He’d have done anything to save his brother, but he had no illusions about his character. There’d never been anything like love between them.

‘Two generations ago the sheikh had only one child, a daughter. But under our constitution a woman can’t inherit the Dhalkuri throne. His wife died and he was urged year after year to take a new wife to get a male heir and secure the succession.’

He paused, checking to see that Rosanna understood, which she clearly did, given her attentiveness.

‘The sheikh refused because he’d loved his wife and didn’t want to replace her. Eventually he relented when he realised how worried his people were about instability if he had no clear successor. So he married the respected widow of his best friend. A woman who already had one son. He adopted the boy as his legal heir and that boy grew up to be my father.’

‘That’s so romantic, that the old sheikh didn’t want to marry after he lost his first wife.’

Salim nodded. Seeing that dreamy look in her eyes he didn’t add the story he’d heard privately, that the old sheikh’s second marriage hadn’t been consummated because he couldn’t bear to sleep with a woman other than his first wife. That would only cement Rosanna’s romantic imaginings.

‘What happened to his daughter? The one who couldn’t inherit?’

‘She married. They’re both dead now but their daughter, Tara, my cousin, is still in the region. She married the Sheikh of Nahrat, across the border. I saw her recently and she’s very happy.’

He was glad for her. He’d always liked Tara and it was good to see her thriving.


Tags: Annie West Billionaire Romance