Prince Of The Desert

GWYNNETH exhaled with exhaustion as she paid off the taxi driver and stood looking up at the building in front of her —  the building that contained her father's apartment. No, not her father's apartment any more, she reminded herself bleakly, but her own. Her father was dead, and in his will he had left all his assets to her.

And his responsibilities? He might not have willed those to her, but she nonetheless felt morally obliged to make them her own. Her slender shoulders bowed slightly. The last few weeks had taken their toll on her. Her father's fatal heart attack had been shockingly unexpected. It might be true that they had never shared a traditional father and daughter relationship. How could they have? But that didn't mean she hadn't cared about him. He was — had been — her father, after all.

Yes, it was true that after her parents'divorce her father had virtually abandoned her into the unloving care of her mother and stepfather. It was true that he had been absent from her life for most of the time she had been growing up, whilst he pursued his own hedonistic lifestyle and travelled the wor ... read full excerpt from: Prince of the Desert ebook