Sheikh's Mail-Order Bride by Marguerite Kaye

His brother would not have countenanced travelling in such a low-key manner. But he kept his gaze turned away all the same, leading his camel and his little train of pack mules past the town towards the final mountain pass he must negotiate, keffiyeh pulled over his face leaving only his eyes uncovered. His recently ended seven years of self-imposed exile and the kingdom’s state of hibernation due to the current period of deep mourning saw to that.

There was precious little chance of him being recognised for who he was. The delicious aroma of roasted goat meat wafted on the faint breeze, along with the soft murmur of voices.

The small town which served the oasis was built into the foothills of the mountains, consisting of a steep jumble of houses and rooftops which clung precariously to the hillside, leaving every precious scrap of level land free for cultivation. Towering above, the crags of the Murimon Mountains he had just traversed provided further shelter, the silver-grey rock streaked with ochre, gold and umber glinting in the sun’s rays.

He guided his deliberately modest caravan, consisting of the camel on which he sat and two pack mules, through the broad sweep of the valley floor where the largest of Murimon’s oases fed the fields and orchards, sheltered from the fierce heat of the desert sun by the serried ranks of date palms laden with their ripening fruit. Chapter One Kingdom of Murimon, Arabia-May 1815ĭaylight was just starting to fade as he neared his journey’s end.

Sheikh's Mail-Order Bride by Marguerite Kaye