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       About the Author

      Previously a teacher, pig farmer, and builder (among other things), MEREDITH WEBBER turned to writing medical romances when she decided she needed a new challenge. Once committed to giving it a ‘real’ go she joined writers’ groups, attended conferences and read every book on writing she could find. Teaching a romance writing course helped her to analyze what she does, and she believes it has made her a better writer. Readers can email Meredith at: [email protected]

      A Sheikh to Capture Her Heart

      Meredith Webber

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      ISBN: 978-1-474-03724-2

      A SHEIKH TO CAPTURE HER HEART

      © 2016 Meredith Webber

      Published in Great Britain 2020

      by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

      All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

      This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

      By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

      ® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

       Note to Readers

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       Table of Contents

       Cover

       Title Page

       Copyright

       Dedication

       CHAPTER THREE

       CHAPTER FOUR

       CHAPTER FIVE

       CHAPTER SIX

       CHAPTER SEVEN

       CHAPTER EIGHT

       CHAPTER NINE

       CHAPTER TEN

       CHAPTER ELEVEN

       About the Publisher

      To all my writing friends, but in particular

      Marion and Alison.

       CHAPTER ONE

      RAHMAN AL-TARAQ WAS BROODING. At least, that was what he assumed he was doing, but, never having been what he’d consider a moody man, it had taken a while to reach that conclusion.

      If asked, he’d have described himself as a—well, driven was probably the only word—man. Driven to succeed, to prove himself, to be the best he could and garner admiration for his achievements rather than for having, purely by chance, been born into royalty.

      Wealthy royalty!

      It wasn’t that the servants at the palace where he’d grown up had bowed and scraped, but very early on he’d realised that every whim would be granted and treats of all kinds supplied, not because he’d done something to deserve them but because of who he was.

      What other six-year-old boy would be given an elephant for his birthday, simply because he’d happened to mention in passing that the elephant he’d seen in a travelling show shouldn’t have to live with a chain around its foot?

      That thought made him smile!

      Imagine bringing Rajah here, to this tropical paradise in the South Pacific! He’d love the rainforest, but would decimate the villagers’ gardens in a week.

      Maybe less.

      Besides which he was getting too old to travel.

      He sighed, a sure sign he was brooding, and as brooding was a totally pointless occupation and achieved precisely nothing,

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