Hot Sands, Burning Hearts

By Ginger Irving

The heat is on! Free-spirited Cassie Anderson stands to make millions from an arranged marriage-of-convenience to a foreign royal.

But secret passions flare between Cassie and the royal's hunky young servant Kadin, endangering the wedding - and the million-dollar deal.

Can Cassie and Kadin tame their overwhelming urges? Or will the desert heat fan forbidden flames of desire beyond control?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ginger Irving
• Release date: Jan 21, 2012
• ISBN: 9781465767424

Ginger Irving

A former New Yorker, 42 year-old Ginger Irving now lives with her longtime partner Richard and their two rambunctious pups in North Carolina. She enjoys cooking, reading, writing, and creating digital graphics - like the cover to her debut romantic adult novella, "Hot Sands, Burning Hearts", now available at both Amazon and Smashwords.

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HOT SANDS, BURNING HEARTS

By

Ginger Irving

SMASHWORDS EDITION

*****

PUBLISHED BY:

Ginger Irving on Smashwords

Hot Sands, Burning Hearts

Copyright © 2012 by Ginger Irving

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Adult Reading Material

*****

HOT SANDS, BURNING HEARTS

*****

I'm not worried, Cassie said, and from her tone Tom knew she wasn't.

But an arranged marriage! He exclaimed. It's so third century! He stared down at the half of a brownie he hadn't finished, then around at the other diners at the outdoor cafe. Is he at least cute? He asked, hopefully, turning his attention back to her. Would I do him?

He'd never let you try, Cassie said, and they both shared a laugh. He's not gay, duh. And he's – older. Not your type. But cute? He's easy on the eyes, yes, definitely.

Well, he's obviously old-fashioned, Cass. Like, stone-the-witch, buy-a-bride old-fashioned.

She couldn't deny the buy-the-bride part. Her marriage-of-convenience to the Vizier Hamzah of Ghadistan would neatly avoid the laws of his land that allowed only the royal family to tap his nation's vast, newly discovered mineral resources. Then her father's mining company - and the Vizier's refining facilities - would be free to extract those very minerals and sell them abroad.

It was a business deal worth an estimated two billion dollars over ten years, which would be the length of her marriage to him.

Cassie would receive two gigantic, eight-figure sums from both her father's company and the Vizier, her husband-to-be.

She was more than happy to take part in their dealings.

It's a purely legal arrangement, she reminded her friend Tom. He's got thirty-one wives already, and he hasn't seen most of them in so many years. They're just scattered, all around the world, and they're doing their own thing. I'm sure that he couldn't even pick one of them out in a police line up.

But ... Tom hesitated. Not being rude, but don't you feel like some sort of a prostitute? You know, like you're selling yourself -

Oh, I'm just going over there to sign some silly little papers. There will be this fantastic party, everyone celebrates, and then I leave. Done. She sipped her tea. We don't have to even have sex if we don't want to!

Oh, but you want to, don't you.

She smiled, somewhat shyly, hooked her raven black hair behind her ears.

Hell yes! She said, finally.

Their raucous laughter was met with disapproving glances from every diner at the café.

*****

Lunch ended soon after.

Cassie gave Tom her keys to their boutique. With her leaving the country, he would be running the shop alone.

A kiss on both cheeks later, the two friends parted ways.

Cassie returned to her parents' home to pack. Though she was almost thirty and certainly able to support herself, Cassie's father and mother pressured her to stay with them, until she started a family of her own.

Between her familial guilt, her wish not to live alone, and her parents' awesome indoor jacuzzi, she decided to agree and live with them.

But just for now.

Neither of her parents were home, both having left on an earlier flight to Ghadistan to secure things there before she arrived. She sent most of her luggage ahead with them, but she wanted to throw together a carry-on bag with some of her essentials. A change or two of clothes, her various and sundry toiletries, a Sudoku puzzle book, a bottle of water.

She mirror-checked herself a dozen times before the car service sounded its horn from the driveway.

She thought she was handling the situation maturely, but it surprised her when the sudden honk caused a powerful excitement to surge in her unexpectedly.

Was she really ready for this?

She looked out the wide rear windows of the living room at the still lake behind the house. The neighborhood was warm and quiet this afternoon. Nothing but the hum of the town car's engine.

She picked up her carry-on bag, tried to ignore the flutter in her stomach as she pictured the Vizier's face - angular, with a long, dyed-black goatee accentuating his pointed chin. High, strong cheekbones. Impeccably groomed. Stern and thin-lipped.

He wasn't quite her ideal type physically, but his charismatic energy made up for that. Heads always turned when he entered a room. It was good to be the woman at his side - he was a man who naturally commanded respect.

So why, she wondered, despite all that was good about the Vizier ...