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      JEWELS OF THE DESERT

       Deserts, diamonds and destiny!

      The Kingdom of Quishari: two rulers, with hearts as hard as the rugged landscape they reign over, are in need of Desert Queens…

       When they offer convenient proposals, will they discover doing your duty doesn’t have to mean ignoring your heart?

       Sheikh Rashid and his twin brother Sheikh Khalid are looking for brides…

       Dear Reader

      Okay, I confess, I’m fascinated with twins. I sometimes try to imagine my life as it would be if I had a twin. When I was a child, I always wanted to be one of a set of twins. The most fun would be switching places and fooling people—so I thought.

      Alas, I am not a twin, nor do twins run in my family. But the fascination remains. This story is about twins—sheikhs, no less. The fact that they are twins does not play a huge role in the linked stories, but there is that mystique. Do twins think alike? Not always. Or each twin would want to marry the same person.

      Sometimes, despite looking identical, twins’ interests are vastly different, and the lives they lead are as individual as anyone’s. In this story, the older twin—by seven minutes—leads a life of high-stakes oil and

      international business dealings. He loves the challenge of dealing in the world market. Just when he’s about to sign a strategic contract things get dicey, and he needs help from an unlikely source.

      Can two very different lifestyles be blended? Of course—if you have love. Please join me on this fun journey as Rashid and Bethanne discover the greatest gift of all.

      Two brothers, twins to boot, find love and happy futures in totally unexpected ways.

      All the best

       Barbara

      Accidentally the Sheikh’s Wife / Marrying the Scarred Sheikh

      by

      Barbara McMahon

       MILLS & BOON^®

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

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      Accidentally The Sheikh’s Wife

      by

Barbara McMahon

      Barbara McMahon was born and raised in the south USA, but settled in California after spending a year flying around the world for an international airline. After settling down to raise a family and work for a computer firm, she began writing when her children started school. Now, feeling fortunate in being able to realise a long-held dream of quitting her ‘day job’ and writing full time, she and her husband have moved to the Sierra Nevada mountains of California, where she finds her desire to write is stronger than ever. With the beauty of the mountains visible from her windows, and the pace of life slower than the hectic San Francisco Bay Area where they previously resided, she finds more time than ever to think up stories and characters and share them with others through writing. Barbara loves to hear from readers. You can reach her at PO Box 977, Pioneer, CA 95666-0977, USA. Readers can also contact Barbara at her website: www.barbaramcmahon.com

      To Carol, Barbara, Kate, Diana, Lynn, and Candice.

      Thanks a bunch.

      Lunch is always great fun.

      CHAPTER ONE

      BETHANNE SANDERS lined up the aircraft with the designated runway and began the final descent. The new jet handled like a dream—all the way from Texas to the coast of the Persian Gulf. It was the first time she’d flown halfway around the world and she wished she could continue on until she circled the globe. When she left Quishari, it would be by commercial flight back through Europe.

      Maybe she’d get another dream assignment like this one in the not-too-distant future. For now, she continued to scan the landscape as far as she could see as the plane began descending. Excitement built. The Persian Gulf was magnificently blue, from deep, dark navy to shades of azure and turquoise. The strip of sandy beach now visible was almost blinding beneath the sun. She had read so much about Quishari and heard so much from her father, she almost felt like she recognized the landmarks as she came in for the landing. Her heart raced at the thought of actually being here. It was like a dream come true.

      Had this assignment not materialized, she still would have come—but it might have taken longer as the cost was exorbitant and savings accumulated slowly.

      But fate had stepped in—almost like the answer to a prayer. She was delivering a brand-new Starcraft jet to Sheikh Rashid al Harum—and bringing in a priceless cargo. His soon-to-be fiancée.

      Except for the shakedown trips around Texas, the only hours on this jet were the ones taken to fly it here. If the sheikh liked it and accepted delivery, he’d be the proud owner of the latest and greatest of the Starcraft line.

      She hoped the sheikh’s fiancée enjoyed the detailing of the luxury appointments and had enjoyed the flight. Bethanne had taken extra care to make the journey as smooth as possible. She found it vastly romantic that they were planning to marry—and neither had yet met the other.

      A bit odd in the twenty-first century. Still, to have been chosen to be the bride of one of the fabulously wealthy sheikhs of Quishari had to be thrilling. Pictures had been exchanged, the parents had made the arrangements. How did a thirty-four-year-old man feel about having his bride hand-picked? Not too different from some of the online dating services—match likes and dislikes, find someone compatible, and there they were.

      Would they kiss when meeting? Seal the deal, so to speak? Or would the woman be too shy to be bold enough for physical affection at the instant of meeting?

      She had daydreamed on the long portions of the flight when autopilot had taken care of flying that she was being met by someone who would sweep her off her feet, make her feel cherished and special.

      Or, alternatively, she’d also imagined her father striding along the tarmac, gathering her into his arms for one of his big bear hugs.

      Blinking, Bethanne brought her attention back to the task of landing this multimillion-dollar jet.

      The snowy-white exterior had already been detailed with stripes using the colors of Quishari—blue and gold and green. The interior resembled a high-end hotel lobby. The lush Persian carpet in golds and reds supported cushy sofas and armchairs, all with the requisite seat belts. The small dining area was elegant with rich walnut furnishings. The galley was fully stocked, and included a stove, oven and microwave in addition to the lavish below-counter refrigerator, wider than long, capable of carrying any supplies necessary for the sheikh’s pleasure. Even the sole restroom was spacious.

      Bethanne had shown

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