Second Chance with the Millionaire

‘Ah, so it’s all my fault is it?’ Lucy teased.

Happiness filled her, making her feel as lightheaded and giddy as a child.

‘It’s always the woman’s fault,’ Saul told her smugly, dodging the mock blow she aimed at him and trapping her in his arms.

* * *

‘Well, well, you’ve surfaced at long last.’

Hand in hand they strolled towards the group sitting by the pool. The woman who had called out to them got up, two toddlers at her side.

‘I do believe you’re blushing, brother dear,’ she said with a grin as she came towards him. ‘Christie, you most definitely do owe me that twenty dollars.’ She had reached them now and her smile for Lucy was warm and slightly mischievous.

‘Lucy, come and tell us all about how you managed to hook this marriage-shy guy,’ she invited her new stepsister-in-law, but it was Saul who answered her, his laconic voice at odds with the slumberous passion in his eyes as he responded, looking at Lucy.

‘Quite simply, my dear sister, it’s called love.’

The way he looked at her made her body tremble and wish they were still alone, but then one of the children piped up shrilly, and the spell was broken; Sophy came forward to lead Lucy to a comfortable chair, Saul went over to talk to Harry and his brothers-in-law.

So began the pattern of her new life, Lucy thought as she sat down, and from it she would weave a warm and protective cloth, but the strongest thread would always be the one linking her to Saul; the thread that represented their love.

‘Tell us all about this Manor,’ Christie invited. ‘We’re all dying to go over and see it.’

Obediently she began to talk, and then, as though responding to something she alone could hear, she turned her head. Saul was smiling at her. She smiled back, knowing that like her he was waiting for the time when they could be alone.

‘Come on you two love birds,’ Christie teased. ‘Break it up, otherwise you’ll be making us old married folks jealous.’

Across the sunlit space Lucy’s eyes met Saul’s, her body quivering in response to the memory of his hands touching it. She loved and was loved in return. Life could hold no gift she would cherish more.

Now, read on for a tantalizing excerpt of USA Today bestselling author

Carol Marinelli’s next book,

BOUND BY THE SULTAN’S BABY

The second in her Billionaires & One-Night Heirs trilogy!

Sultan Alim spent one forbidden night with Gabi—when he encounters her again, she refuses to name her child’s father. Alim will seduce the truth out of Gabi, even if he has to lure her under false pretenses. Alim knows he craves her, but does he desire her as his mistress or bride?

Read on to get a glimpse of

BOUND BY THE SULTAN’S BABY

CHAPTER ONE

GABI DERAMO HAD never been a bridesmaid, let alone a bride.

However, weddings were her life and she thought about them during most of the minutes of her day.

From way back she had lived and breathed weddings.

Gabi was a dreamer.

As a little girl, her dolls would regularly be lined up in a bridal procession. Once, to her mother’s fury, Gabi had poured two whole bags of sugar and one of flour over them to create a winter wedding effect.

‘Essere nerre nuvole,’ her mother, Carmel, had scolded, telling her that she lived in the clouds.

What Gabi didn’t tell her was that at each wedding she made with her dolls, she pretended it was her mother. As if somehow she could conjure her father’s presence and make it so that he had not left a pregnant Carmel to struggle alone.

And while Gabi had never been so much as kissed, as an assistant wedding planner she had played her part in many a romantic escape.

She dreamt of the same most nights.

And she dreamt of Alim.

Now Gabi sat, flicking through the to-do list on her tablet and curling her long black hair around her finger, trying to work out how on earth she could possibly organise, from scratch, an extremely rushed but very exclusive winter wedding in Rome.

Mona, the bride-to-be, stepped out of the changing area on her third attempt at trying on a gown not of Gabi’s choice.

It didn’t suit Mona in the least—the antique lace made her olive skin look sallow and the heavy fabric did nothing to accentuate her delicate frame.

‘What do you think?’ Mona asked Gabi as she turned around to look in the mirror and examined herself from behind.

Gabi knew from experience how to deal with a bride who stood in completely the wrong choice of gown. ‘What do you think, Mona?’

‘I don’t know,’ Mona sighed. ‘I quite like it.’

‘Then it isn’t the gown for you,’ Gabi said. ‘Because you have to love it.’