The Sheikh's English Bride
XAVIER dangled the skimpy pair of panties from an out-stretched finger and raised a quizzical black brow at the pouting blonde.
"Aren't you forgetting something, cherie?" he murmured, in the outrageously sexy accent which some-times caused people to ask whether he did radio voice-overs in his spare time. The answer, of course, was no—Xavier de Maistre did not need to dabble in the media to supplement his already vast income.
Only once had he exploited his sensually beauti-been talent-spotted as a teenager, walking down the Champs Elysées. He had been paid a fortune to ad-vertise an aftershave, but had astonished the world by turning down the many lucrative offers which had followed the campaign's massive success. Instead, he had taken the money and used it to found his property empire, which was now one of the biggest in the world.
The blonde parted her lips. "Don't you want to play that game any more?" she questioned huskily.
Xavier's cool expression did not waver. Did she imagine that nothing had changed since their affair had ended last year, and that he would have stayed the same instead of moving on? That he was ... read full excerpt from: The Sheikh's English Bride ebook
