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before giving them to her to hold told her beyond the need for any words just how much love their sons would have from their father. They would bond and form a male trio that at times as the twins grew would exclude her, as a woman, but the bond that she and Ash shared would be so strong that it would hold them together for ever, through the birth of other children hopefully, during the growing up of those children and into those years when they would perhaps become grandparents. A bond of the truest kind of love, given from the heart of a man who’d had to overcome so much to be able to make that gift.

      ‘I promise you I will be the father you want for them, Sophia,’ Ash told her tenderly. ‘And the loving husband that you so deserve.’

      All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention.

      All Rights Reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises II B.V./S.à.r.l. The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher.

      This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the prior consent of the publisher in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

      ® and TM 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.

      First published in Great Britain 2012

      by Mills & Boon, an imprint of Harlequin (UK) Limited,

      Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR

      THE PRICE OF ROYAL DUTY © Harlequin Books S.A. 2012

      Special thanks and acknowledgement are given to Penny Jordan for her contribution to The Santina Crown series.

      ISBN: 978-1-408-98197-9

      53-0512

      Harlequin (UK) policy is to use papers that are natural, renewable and recyclable products and made from wood grown in sustainable forests. The logging and manufacturing processes conform to the legal environmental regulations of the country of origin.

      The

      Santina Crown

       The Sheikh’s Heir

       Sharon Kendrick

      ‘Maybe you decided your night with me was so hot that you wanted a repeat of it. I wouldn’t blame you if you did.’

      ‘I try never to make the same mistake twice, Hassan. Any other suggestions?’

      Dark clouds drifted into his mind. ‘Or our ill-judged liaison has left us with something other than regrets.’

      She stared at him, because didn’t his words make what she was about to tell him even more difficult? ‘That’s the most cold-hearted description I’ve ever heard,’ she whispered.

      Her lack of denial unsettled him but Hassan kept his nerve. ‘That’s because I am a cold-hearted man, Ella. Be in no doubt of that. And I haven’t come here to play guessing games. What is it that you want to say to me?’

      ‘That you’re right!’ She swallowed as she forced out the bitter truth. She looked into the narrowed black eyes and spoke in a low voice. ‘I’m having a baby, Hassan.’

      About the Author

      SHARON KENDRICK started story-telling at the age of eleven, and has never really stopped. She likes to write fast-paced, feel-good romances, with heroes who are so sexy they’ll make your toes curl! Born in west London, she now lives in the beautiful city of Winchester—where she can see the cathedral from her window (but only if she stands on tiptoe). She has two children, Celia and Patrick, and her passions include music, books, cooking and eating—and drifting off into wonderful daydreams while she works out new plots!

      To Max Campbell, for ensuring that my iPhone

      plays more than one Beatles song.

      CHAPTER ONE

      WOULD this damned party never end?

      In the softly lit anteroom of his friend’s palace, Sheikh Hassan Al Abbas let out an irritated breath and turned to the man standing a few deferential paces away from him.

      ‘Do you think there’s any chance I could just slip away and leave them to get on with it, Benedict?’ he demanded, knowing only too well how his loyal English aide would respond.

      There was a pause. ‘Your absence would almost certainly be noticed, Your Highness,’ answered Benedict carefully. ‘Since you are one of the most esteemed guests present. And furthermore it would offend your oldest friend if he knew that you could not be bothered to stay to wish him happiness on the night of his engagement.’

      Hassan’s fists clenched against the unaccustomed lounge suit which clothed his hard body, hating the strictures of collar and tie. He wished he was wearing soft and silken robes against his naked skin. That he was galloping free on his horse, with the warm desert wind blowing against his face. ‘And what if I believed deep in my heart that such a wish would not only be futile but hypocritical?’ he iced back. ‘That I think Alex is about to make the biggest mistake of his life?’

      ‘It is often difficult for two men to see eye to eye when it comes to the subject of women,’ answered Benedict diplomatically. ‘Particularly regarding the subject of marriage.’

      ‘It’s not just his choice of fiancée I don’t agree with!’ Hassan said, unable to contain the frustration which had been growing inside him since his oldest friend, Prince Alessandro Santina, had announced that he was to marry Allegra Jackson. ‘Though that is bad enough. Even worse is that he has abandoned the woman to whom he has been betrothed since he was born! A woman of noble birth, who would make a far more suitable bride.’

      ‘Perhaps his love is too strong to be—’

      ‘Love?’ interrupted Hassan, and now he could feel the bitter lump which had risen in his throat like a ball of nails. A brief yet undeniable pain clenched at his heart. For didn’t he know better than anyone that ‘love’ was nothing but an illusion which could wreck lives with its seductive power?

      ‘Love is nothing more than a fancy name for lust,’ he bit out. ‘And a ruler cannot allow himself to be guided by the stir of his loins or the beat of his heart. He must put duty before desire.’

      ‘Yes, Highness,’ said Benedict obediently.

      Hassan shook his head in disbelief, still unwilling to accept that his high-born friend had let his standards dip so low. ‘Did you realise that Alex’s future father-in-law is some grubby ex-footballer with a long list of wives and mistresses he has been publicly unfaithful to?’

      ‘I had heard something along those lines, Highness.’

      ‘I cannot believe that he is willing to marry into such a disreputable family as these Jacksons! Did you see the way they were behaving at the ball? It turned my stomach to watch them quaffing champagne as if it was water and making fools of themselves on the dance floor.’

      ‘Highness—’

      ‘This

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