The Bad Boy Sheikh

By Mina Millar

Young journalist, Ronnie Blake's getting over a bad break-up and is determined to throw herself into her work in order to chuck ice-cold water on the memories of her two-timing ex-boyfriend James. 

 

A freelance project comes-a-calling and Ronnie's swept away to the other side of the world. Determined to use this opportunity to inject life into a touch-and-go writing career, the last thing on Ronnie's mind is love or sex but the King of Al Qasr's drop-dead gorgeous eldest son has other ideas. He'll never play by his father - the King's rules - nor will he settle for a trophy wife. His priorities include hot loving and Ronnie Blake's just landed in his lap. His command is impossible to ignore and Ronnie's falling madly in love, but at what cost?

• Language: English
• Publisher: 8dpress
• Release date: Sep 23, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393078807

Mina Millar

Hi, I'm a British author, living in London, UK. I love writing steamy romances set in real life situations that we can all related to. Sexual fantasy is my thing but my novellas are tasteful and erotic without being pornographic. I always fall in love with my characters and have a fair few adventures with them while I am writing their stories.  My aim is to uplift my readers, take them away from their everyday lives and put some sexiness into their lives. 

Book preview

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PROLOGUE

Ahmad caught sight of his own hardened expression in the rear vision mirror of the limousine; the sardonic curl of his lips, the angry glare from his coal black eyes, the drawn appearance of his features, the charismatically high cheekbones, always commented on by the women he had dated. He looked ill. He was tired. The pressure was getting to him. He was on a deadline and time was running out.

The words of his father, the Sheikh, rang painfully in his mind. Yes, he had always been the disobedient son, had always been too strong-willed, too fiery in temperament to make his father proud. And his business decisions had sometimes angered his father. His father expected him to be the perfect eldest son, but he wasn’t perfect, damn it. He had never wanted to be like his father.

Pride was his father’s oxygen. Ahmad was furious with him. Pride was all he cared about. He didn’t give a damn about his son’s happiness, nor his mother’s. So, okay, it was pride that had enabled his father, the King, to sculpt the nation of Al Qasr from a simple Bedouin tribal settlement to the international Arab state is was today, pride and hard-headed focus. But it was the same pride that coursed through his own veins now, as heir to his father’s heritage, weighing heavy inside him, like the kiss of death.

And it was the same hellish pride that made marrying his father’s choice of bride, the beautiful Sheba and producing an heir, an impossible thing for him to do. He would not be bought. He did not love Sheba and would never love her. She was a child, barely 18-years old, a passive thing, no interesting conversation had ever passed from her lips.

His father could not buy him, not this time. Do his duty, his father had thundered, it was not about love, it was about duty and he, the son of the Sheikh, had no option but to do his duty.

He was 35, next month, time to take a bride and settle down, time to pass on some of his business affairs to his brothers, time to produce grandsons for his father. His father wanted grandsons. Those were his orders. His will. His way.

Ahmad leant back, angrily against the leather seats as the driver pulled away from the palace and out along the desert road, towards the small, private royal airfield. He raked a dark olive-skinned hand through his wavy black, fashionably short