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       “I was ready to battle him for you.”

      Christian murmured the words, fingers grazing the wet streak on her cheek. “To demonstrate how committed I am to being your ardent husband and a zealous father to Marc.”

      Such beautiful words from such a challenging and unpredictable man. Noelle couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry. She was still debating when Christian cupped her face in his hands and brought his lips to hers.

      The delicious pressure of his kiss held her immobile with shock for several frantic heartbeats.

      She tunneled impatient fingers into Christian’s hair and pushed her greedy body hard against his. She craved a man’s hands on her. To feel a little helpless as he tore her clothes off and had his way with her. And Christian had a knack for that sort of thing.

      His fingers bit into her hips as she rocked against him, the ache between her thighs building. When she could stand it no longer, she cried out as pleasure lanced downward.

      Christian buried his face in her neck, lips gliding over her skin. “I knew you’d come around.”

      An icy chill swept through her at his words. Noelle clenched her teeth and cursed her impulsiveness. She tensed her muscles and twisted away.

      “I haven’t come around to anything.”

      * * *

      Secret Child, Royal Scandal is part of Cat Schield’s Sherdana Royals trilogy

      Secret Child, Royal Scandal

      Cat Schield

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      CAT SCHIELD has been reading and writing romance since high school. Although she graduated from college with a BA in business, her idea of a perfect career was writing books for Mills & Boon. And now, after winning the Romance Writers of America 2010 Golden Heart® Award for Best Contemporary Series Romance, that dream has come true. Cat lives in Minnesota with her daughter, Emily, and their Burmese cat. When she’s not writing sexy, romantic stories for Mills & Boon Desire, she can be found sailing with friends on the St. Croix River, or in more exotic locales, like the Caribbean and Europe. She loves to hear from readers. Find her at www.catschield.net. Follow her on Twitter, @catschield.

      To Renee and Mary K.

       Thanks for all the happy hours and the conversations that have kept me sane.

      Contents

       Cover

       Introduction

       Title Page

       About the Author

       Dedication

       Five

       Six

       Seven

       Eight

       Nine

       Ten

       Eleven

       Twelve

       Extract

       Copyright

      Prince Christian Alessandro, third in line to the Sherdana throne, stood behind the current and future kings of Sherdana and glowered into the camera. No doubt he was ruining Nic and Brooke’s fairy-tale wedding photos, but he didn’t care. His last hope to remain a carefree bachelor for the rest of his life had been reduced to ashes the second his brother had gazed deep into his bride’s starry eyes and pledged to love and honor her until the day he died.

      Christian growled.

      “Smiles everyone,” the photographer cried, casting an anxious glance Christian’s way. “This is our last photo of the complete wedding party. Let’s make it count.”

      Despite his black mood, Christian shifted his features into less grim lines. He wasn’t about to smile, but he could at least give his brother one decent photo. No matter how badly this marriage had disrupted his life, in the days to come he really would make an effort to be happy for Nic and Brooke. For today he’d simply don a mask.

      “Let’s set up over there.” The photographer pointed to a small stone bridge that crossed a decorative creek.

      The path beyond meandered toward the stables. Christian preferred his horsepower under the hood of a fast car, but he’d gladly take his twin nieces to visit their ponies just to get away. Bethany and Karina were old hands at being flower girls, this being their second royal wedding in four months, but being two-year-olds, they had a short attention span and were growing impatient with having to stand still for photos. Christian sympathized with them.

      Since his accident five years earlier, he’d avoided cameras as much as possible. The burn scars that covered his right side—shoulder, neck and half of his cheek—had made him the least attractive Alessandro triplet. Not that it mattered much how he looked. His title, wealth and confirmed bachelor status made him a magnet for women.

      Most women.

      His gaze roamed over the multitude of assistants and palace staff required to keep the bridal party looking flawless and the photo shoot moving forward. Trailing the bride was a petite, slender woman with mink-brown hair and dual-toned brown eyes. Internationally renowned wedding dress designer Noelle Dubone had designed Brooke’s dress as well as the one worn by Christian’s sister-in-law, Princess Olivia Alessandro.

      Born in Sherdana, Noelle had moved to Paris at twenty-two to follow her dream of becoming a fashion designer. She’d done moderately well until three years ago when she’d designed the wedding gown for the bride of Italian prince Paolo Gizzi. There’d been so much media coverage surrounding the nuptials that Noelle became an overnight success. Movie stars, European nobility and the very wealthy became eager for a Noelle Dubone original.

      “Imagining

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