![]() She was sure that Faisal respected her too much to hurt her in the way that they were suggesting, but even so, she had been surprised and then flattered when he began to talk about marriage.ĭuring these talks he had told her a good deal about his family, just as she had told him about her parents, dying so young and so tragically when she was little more than a baby, and leaving her to be brought up by Aunt Ellen and Uncle George in their bleak granite house on the Lancashire moors. Then their lighthearted teasing had turned to warnings of a more serious nature as they repeated direful tales of what could happen to European girls foolish enough to take the promises of rich males too seriously. At first they had teased her unmercifully, until they realised that the affair was becoming serious. With Faisal’s insistence that he take her out to lunch most days of the week, and dates nearly every night as well, it had proved impossible to keep their romance a secret from the other girls in her office. A mutual interest in photography had led to their initial meeting at night school classes and one or two casual dates had grown into regular thrice weekly meetings, and more latterly dates most nights of the week as Faisal grew increasingly possessive. She had known the young Kuwaiti for just six breathless weeks. That Faisal was aware of this was obvious from the jealous looks he gave these other men who dared to look upon his Felicia but Felicia herself was completely unaware of the slight stir caused by her entrance. Although her neat ribbed sweater and toning tweed skirt instantly placed her apart from the elegant creatures in silks and furs who sat at the other tables, she had a lissom grace which automatically drew the male eye. ‘The office! Zut! Have I not told you before to give up this worthless job?’ Faisal demanded with an arrogance that slightly dismayed her.Īn attractive girl, with auburn hair that curled on to her shoulders and sombre green eyes that hinted at a natural reserve, Felicia was unaware of the assessing glances of some of the other diners. ‘I’m sorry I’m so late,’ she apologised as they sat down. ![]() It spoke volumes for the power of money, she reflected, as Faisal pushed back his chair and stood up, an appreciative smile lighting his handsome features. Her spirits lifted when she saw Faisal, and the waiter, plainly reviewing his opinion of her when he saw with whom she was to dine, cleared a path for her with an alacrity which she secretly found amusing. THE restaurant was well known and expensive, and Felicia had to pretend to be unaware of the waiter’s contemptuous appraisal of her shabby coat as she hurriedly surveyed the occupants of the tables. Romantic Times BOOKreviews on The Sheikh’s Blackmailed Mistress “A passionate love story and a terrific adventure. “Women everywhere will find pieces of themselves in Jordan’s characters.” Diamonds are the purest and most brilliant of all precious jewels-but you readers are undoubtedly the true “jewels” in the crown that makes Harlequin Books the romance publisher. It is truly an honor and a privilege to be writing to you all now in celebration of this Diamond Anniversary. Thanks to Harlequin’s wonderful readers, there have been many special moments for me as Penny Jordan. I have the happiest memories of writing this book, and when it was accepted, it was absolutely the proudest and most exciting moment of my life. I read up on and researched Kuwait, its people and their way of life and customs, and went on from there. For this reason I chose Kuwait as the desert state I used for a background. At the same time I also wanted it to be set in a pro-West city. I knew from the outset that I wanted to give the book a desert setting. It embodied all those things I most loved myself as a reader a true alpha hero, a man who wasn’t afraid to admit that he was wrong and who gave himself and his heart completely to the woman he loved, a heroine who possessed both intelligence and vulnerability, loyalty and self respect, and a once-in-a-lifetime love for only one man. But somehow I knew from the word go that this book was different. I had several incomplete and unsubmitted attempts at a Harlequin book in my desk already when I started to write Falcon’s Prey. For me as a reader there was-and indeed still is-something about the sheer magnificence of the desert with its fierce beauty and its danger that went perfectly with the kind of hero, heroine and story line that I most enjoyed. I’d been a keen reader and fan of Harlequin books for several years before I began to write for Harlequin myself, and right from the very first, what we now all call “sheikh” books had been my favorite.
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