The Sheikh's Virgin Bride(112)
“You, Lucy, are the making of me. Every day I wake up next to you, I’m the most ecstatic I can remember being. I’ve already asked so much of you, I know, but if you could do me one last honor, then I’d be the happiest man in the world.”
Khabib took out a little blue felt box from his pocket, the kind that held rings. Opening it revealed, sure enough, a gold beauty of a ring, with three hearts made of dazzling diamonds.
“Lucy Morrison, will you marry me?”
A hush has settled over the room. It took me a few seconds to realize just what everyone was in suspense for: my answer.
“Yes, of course, yes!”
Khabib slipped the ring onto my finger, then took me in his arms and swung me around, while his family applauded and roared their approval.
The rest of the night was a haze of joy. More food, more drinks. Everyone was dancing and laughing together. It was like that night when Khabib had coaxed me into dancing, into venturing out of my comfort zone.
So, here I was, grooving away with my husband-to-be and my family-to-be, shaking my hips and smiling so hard my face hurt. And the whole time, all I could think was: could it get any better than this?
The End
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The Sheikh’s Christmas Triplets
Holly Rayner
Last, but by no means least, here is an exclusive teaser of my sweet, festive romance, The Sheikh’s Christmas Triplets
Copyright 2017 by Holly Rayner
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part by any means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the explicit written permission of the author.
All characters depicted in this fictional work are consenting adults, of at least eighteen years of age. Any resemblance to persons living or deceased, particular businesses, events, or exact locations are entirely coincidental.
Chapter One
“Yvonne, stop!”
Peeking over the rim of her glasses, Yvonne Hunt glanced briefly at the office manager before turning back to her computer screen.
“Two minutes. I’m just about done with this report.”
“You are ridiculous. Even God took a rest on Sunday, Yvonne.”
“Yes, well that was before financial planning came to be, isn’t it, Mack?”
Mackenzie crossed her arms and leaned against the doorway to Yvonne’s office, her hot glare burning into Yvonne’s back as she stubbornly finished the report and clicked the send button, emailing it off to her boss to evaluate before passing it onto the customer.
Swiveling in her comfortable office chair, Yvonne grinned up at her still glaring coworker.
“Less than that. That had to have been a minute and thirty seconds.”
“But who’s counting? Now come on. This party is so dull without you there. Shenanigans are happening and we are missing them!”
“Fine,” Yvonne sighed, rising and stretching her sore back.
She had worked at ELA International for a few years under the strong (and handsome) leadership of Sheikh Zadid Al-Alamein, the stunningly attractive, incredibly intelligent co-owner of the financial planning firm. As she stepped out of her office and into the hallway, the center lobby echoed with Christmas music from below. Yvonne stared down, looking for a certain gentleman, and finding herself disappointed.
She hadn’t been the only one missing the festivities, it seemed.
They made their way down the staircase, Mackenzie chattering on about some boyfriend drama. Yvonne tuned back into the conversation just before she got caught thinking of other things.
“And I told him, if he wants to make it official with a ring on Christmas, I really don’t mind, I just want to know about it, you know?”
“Definitely,” Yvonne said, doing her best to act as though she had been paying better attention.
As they reached the ground floor where the party was in full swing, Yvonne felt a rush of amusement. All around them, her colleagues were drinking from the fancy bar Zadid had rented just for this event. With free drinks flying around, every young successful person in the office was letting their guard down, flirting shamelessly with people they would have to be professional with once the shining holiday lights faded into a cold January morning.
It was going to be a brutal wakeup call.
“I can’t believe Evan is hitting on Candice. Doesn’t he know she just got dumped?” Mackenzie observed, pulling two flutes from a passing waiter’s tray and handing one to Yvonne.
She took a delicate sip from her glass. The champagne was certainly top of the line. Zadid had spared no expense to make his people happy. That was so like him, she thought, her eyes scanning the outer perimeter of the room as though he might appear.
“I think he knows that perfectly well. Why else would he be chatting her up like that?” Yvonne replied, still sticking with the conversation even as her thoughts drifted.
“Good point. She is going to smack him if he tries to kiss her, though, mark my words.”