Carol Marinelli recently filled in a form where she was asked for her job title and was thrilled, after all these years, to be able to put down her answer as ‘writer’. Then it asked what Carol did for relaxation and, after chewing her pen for a moment, Carol put down the truth—‘writing’. The third question asked—‘What are your hobbies?’ Well, not wanting to look obsessed or, worse still, boring, she crossed the fingers on her free hand and answered ‘swimming and tennis’—but, given that the chlorine in the pool does terrible things to her highlights, and the closest she’s got to a tennis racket in the last couple of years is watching the Australian Open, I’m sure you can guess the real answer!
Carol also writes for Medical™ Romance!
Wedlocked:
Banished Sheikh,
Untouched Queen
BY
Carol Marinelli
Dear Reader
I love linking characters, really getting to know them and following their development through different stories and situations.
I first met Xavian at the end of the Royal House of Karedes mini-series. I could vividly picture him, and really wanted to write his story, so I was thrilled when I was asked to write the opening book for the Dark-Hearted Desert Men quartet.
At first I couldn’t imagine being in Xavian’s situation—a charismatic, powerful king who has everything, and I mean everything, taken from him. In fact, the more I explored his situation the more I understood how dire it must feel for him. Xavian was probably entitled to a little ‘woe is me’, and if I was nice I would have given him a supremely understanding heroine. But I’m not that nice—and, anyway, that would have been too easy. Layla is complex and sexy and powerful in her own right, and I loved getting to know her and watching the sparks fly between them—actually, their relationship sizzles so much that I suggest a fan.
They really were two wonderful characters to write, and I was more than a little sad to say goodbye— however, there are three sexy cousins still to come in this series, each with a fantastic story of their own, so I’m cheered to know that I don’t have to say farewell to the Kingdom of Qusay just yet.
Happy reading
Carol Marinelli x
Table of Contents
Prologue
LAYLA did not close her eyes as the handmaidens veiled her. Instead, she watched in the mirror as, one by one, her generous cleavage, her pale legs and the delicate henna tattoos disappeared beneath the golden layers of the jewelled gold dress. Then she stared as her long raven hair and her made-up face, her rouged cheeks and full lips also disappeared—till all that was left were her eyes.
Eyes that blinked nervously as the realisation hit— when these veils were removed, this time there would be none of the usual relief. It would not mean she was home at her palace in Haydar, where she could relax. No, when these veils were removed it would be before her new husband—she would be in the Qusay Desert, on her wedding night.
King Xavian Al’ Ramiz, the man she had been betrothed to since her childhood, had after all these years decided to honour that commitment and finally summoned her to be his bride.
He had kept her waiting—and, more importantly for Layla, he had kept her country waiting.
Her life had been—was—but a holding pattern.
Layla was the eldest of seven girls. Her mother had died trying to produce a male heir—Layla had heard the sobs and anger as each gruelling birth yielded yet another poor crop—and the deeply traditional Haydar people had, with each birth, further balked at the idea of being ruled by a queen.
Ah, but her father had been wise. A deal had been brokered many years ago with the King of Qusay, whose marriage had produced only one son, that the two would marry. Xavian would step in and appease the people of Haydar, and of course they would produce a son—who would one day rule both lands.
Since the union had not been forthcoming, on her father’s death Layla had become Queen. The elders had wanted her to rule in name only, so that they could advise her and keep the ways of the people safe, but she’d intended to take her role seriously. She had asserted herself—refusing to sign or add voice to anything that she didn’t agree with.
And as for her early betrothal—why, Xavian had been too