Sheikh Boss, Hot Desert Nights. Susan Stephens

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       Could sexual heat pass through glass? Watching Casey Michaels cross the baggage hall, Raffa thought it could. Even in that outfit she looked good. Funny… but good.

      Her clothes could change. He was wearing jeans and a top for this reconnaissance mission. Official robes were the costume he wore when appropriate—just as Casey would step into a different role when she put on a severely tailored business suit.

      The thought of unlacing those office stays and discovering the real woman underneath was an image that pleased him—perhaps more than it should have done. Thumbing his sharp black stubble, he weighed up the supple frame beneath the unflattering safari suit. Virginal innocence sang out loud and clear.

      And he never mixed business with pleasure…

      Recent reviews for talented Modern™ Romance and Modern Heat™ author Susan Stephens:

       About LAYING DOWN THE LAW, Modern Heat™, January 2008:

      ‘It should be illegal to miss Susan Stephens’ terrific LAYING DOWN THE LAW! With its cast of wonderful characters, hilarious one-liners, sparkling dialogue and steamy sexual tension, LAYING DOWN THE LAW is compulsive reading for readers who enjoy reading sexy romances that will tug at their heartstrings and tickle their funny bones!’

      —CataRomance.com

      About BOUGHT: ONE ISLAND, ONE BRIDE, Modern™ Romance, December 2007:

      ‘An exhilarating tale full of passion, intensity and heat, BOUGHT: ONE ISLAND, ONE BRIDE is a sizzling romance you will be unable to put down, featuring a gorgeous Greek tycoon and a feisty but vulnerable heroine. Sexy, steamy and engrossing, BOUGHT: ONE ISLAND, ONE BRIDE is another triumph for the wonderful Susan Stephens, a writer who never fails to deliver enthralling romances we just cannot resist!’

      —CataRomance.com

      ‘A pleasing story about overcoming the past with the healing power of love. The Greek island and its people are wonderful secondary characters, filled with rich local flavours and traditions.’

      —www.romantictimes.com

      Susan Stephens was a professional singer before meeting her husband on the tiny Mediterranean island of Malta. In true Modern™ Romance style they met on Monday, became engaged on Friday, and were married three months after that. Almost thirty years and three children later, they are still in love. (Susan does not advise her children to return home one day with a similar story, as she may not take the news with the same fortitude as her own mother!)

      Susan had written several non-fiction books when fate took a hand. At a charity costume ball there was an after-dinner auction. One of the lots, ‘Spend a Day with an Author’, had been donated by Mills & Boon author Penny Jordan. Susan’s husband bought this lot, and Penny was to become not just a great friend but a wonderful mentor, who encouraged Susan to write romance.

      Susan loves her family, her pets, her friends and her writing. She enjoys entertaining, travel, and going to the theatre. She reads, cooks, and plays the piano to relax, and can occasionally be found throwing herself off mountains on a pair of skis or galloping through the countryside. Visit Susan’s website: www.susanstephens.net—she loves to hear from her readers all around the world!

      Susan Stephens also writes for Modern™ Romance!

      SHEIKH BOSS, HOT DESERT NIGHTS

      BY

      SUSAN STEPHENS

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      For all those who like their bad boys safely corralled

      between the pages of a book, and for Bev,

      whose face lights up when I mention the word ‘sheikh’.

      CHAPTER ONE

      SHE had a backpack the size of the world. Hoisting it off the luggage carousel, she almost knocked out the eye of the woman standing next to her. Buckles and straps jangled from it, along with a rope, a waterproof bedsheet, and a pair of sand boots. She had her hair scraped back and a camouflage hat with a highly becoming neck-flap crammed on her head.

      Hearing she was to travel to the interior of A’Qaban as part of her job as marketing executive to that country’s development agency, Casey had ditched the power suit and Jimmy Choos in favour of a safari suit and sandproof knickers. But this wasn’t an airstrip in the furthest reaches of A’Qaban, but A’Qaban International Airport, where the desert came in bijou-sized pieces, each grain of sand polished to a heady sheen by the world’s top designers.

      As with any other project she undertook for the company, Casey had researched this one thoroughly. It had only been on the point of boarding the aircraft that she had been told her itinerary had been changed—and by none other than the recently crowned King, Sheikh Rafik al Bad-Boy himself. Apparently His Majesty had insisted on meeting all his key employees before ruling the country took his eye off the business.

      Surprised to find an underling like herself under the spotlight, Casey had allowed herself a momentary glow, until it was pointed out to her that Raffa, as the Eton educated and Special Forces hardened Sheik preferred to be known, was well into weeding out the weak links in his organisation. So, here she was, dressed like a park ranger in the midst of Glitz Central, and with no office clothes to save the day.

      She had a wardrobe full of smart business suits back home, but what was the point in kicking herself? She was here and she had to get on with it, Casey reflected, hoisting her backpack into a more comfortable position. The Sheikh of A’Qaban was known to test his employees to the limit and she should have had it covered. She might be at a disadvantage, but not for long. As soon as she cleared Customs it would be all about the shopping mall.

      Could sexual heat pass through glass? Watching Casey Michaels cross the baggage hall, he thought it could. Even in that outfit she looked good…funny, but good.

      How could she not look better than the uptight fashion victim he’d taken a look at in her file? He could see that was an old photo, way out of date now. She had blossomed since it had been taken—more flesh on her bones, and way more blonde hair falling down beneath her ugly hat. That, combined with the good-humoured curve of her lips, the direct, unflustered gaze and the determined stride, made for quite a package—even if that package was bundled up in the most unflattering of clothes.

      Her clothes could change. He was wearing jeans and a top for this reconnaissance mission. Official robes were a costume he wore when appropriate—just as Casey would step into a different role when she put on a severely tailored business suit.

      The thought of unlacing those office stays and discovering the real woman underneath was an image that pleased him perhaps more than it should have done. Thumbing his sharp black stubble, he weighed up the supple frame beneath the unflattering safari suit. Virginal innocence sang out loud and clear.

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