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PROLOGUE

IT WAS Cade Landon’s twenty-eighth birthday, and his gift froo

Her name was Leilia, and to say she was beautiful was to say that stars were sihts in the desert sky

There’d been a discreet knock at the door to Cade’s suite He’d opened it and sohts had entered: two robed Bedouins clutching flutes and druht of a tray laden hat see a notso-Arabian bottle of vintage Krug chaure swathed from head to toe in silk

Cade was puzzled, but only for a second He’d been granted the honor of a suite on the same floor as the Sultan’s private rooms An error had been made, obviously This was the Sultan’s entertain, arrived at his door by mistake

The Bedouins offered the traditional greeting, touching their hands to their lips and hearts as they bowed low before him

“Masa el-kheyr,the flute

“Good evening,” Cade said, politely returning the greeting “But I’m afraid there’s been a mix-up”

“My lord?”

Cade glanced at the silk-draped figure The veiling had slipped an inch or two, enough so he could see that he was being watched by a pair of enor to have a very pleasant evening indeed, Cade thought, and smiled

“You’ve co place, ant corridor, its h crystal chandeliers to put the Hall of Mirrors at Versailles to shame “The Sultan’s apartment is—”

“Are you not my Lord Landon?”

“I’m Landon, yes, but—”

“Then we have coe brushed past hi room The boy deposited the tray and scurried out the door The ure remained

Puzzled, Cade thrust his fingers into his sun-streaked chestnut hair “Look,” he said, “I don’t mean to be rude, but—”

The sounds of the flute and drum drowned out the rest of his words Openmouthed, he listened to what sounded like the cries of a cat with its tail caught in a wringer before he realized he was hearing a Mid-Eastern version of “Happy Birthday”

“Dear God,” he muttered—and all at once, the music became soft and sensuous

That hen the lady with the kohl-ri forward and slowly shedding rainbow-colored layers of silk until she’d stood before hi a sleeveless silver vest that ended just beneath her breasts, a long, gauzy skirt that began dangerous inches below her jeweled navel, and a smile that promised she intended to be the best damned birthday present a man ever had

“I am Leilia,” she’d purred, “and I am yours to command, my lord”

Now she was circling Cade gracefully, her hips swaying to the ers and ankles tinkled as she danced; her hair streaolden skin like an ebony waterfall

The drurew more provocative Cade watched for aand poured so the chilled wine in one longto do with her when she finished dancing?

Laughter rose in his throat and he bit it back

He sure as hell knehat he was supposed to do with her

She was gorgeous and sexy and, he was sure, well-trained in the art of love

But Cade had never taken a woht It had never been necessary Women came easily to him, and always had

Maybe it was the eleer that seemed to emanate from him The broad shoulders and lean, hard body, honed by years spent working on oil rigs, the dark blue eyes that could turn aler, even the nose that had been broken in a brawl on an offshore rig and left to heal on its own—all of the things that made other ing

Cade knew it, but there was nothing iic, and he was nothing if not logical when it came to women He had no time for the foolishness of emotional attachments His life was far too full for such nonsense

It suited him that the woer to share his bed and as uninterested in tying themselves down as he was

Did a woory?

Leilia brushed lightly against him as she whirled past Cade looked at her Her ar the tiny silver vest to its li smile

Hell, he thought, and grinned back Noto be a birthday to remem

ber

And suddenly, incongruously, his thoughts flew back in ti years before

He had been twenty-one, and his father had insisted on throwing a party at their Colorado ranch

“It’ll be the biggest shindig anybody’s ever seen, boy,” he’d said

It was that, all right, the sort Denver had come to expect of Charles Landon, just four or five hundred of his closest friends, a full orchestra, a perforars and enough lobster, oysters and caviar to feed a small country

At uests to the front s A hush had fallen over the crowd as a spotlight, mounted for the occasion on one of thea cherry-red Corvette in the curving driveway It was tied with an enormous silver bow

“Yours,” Charles said brusquely “Do you like it?”

“Like it? I—I…” Cade shook his head, speechless He’d drea his driver’s license at sixteen That his father had bought the ‘Vette stunned hi on extravagant gestures It was just that the things he gave his youngest son were never quite the things Cade would have chosen for himself

The party, for instance Cade hadn’t wanted it He’d wanted a quiet evening with the girl he’d fallen in love with that su and saying yes, oh yes, she would marry him and build a life with him, one that would not be dependent on Landon power and money

Instead, he’d ended up with a bunch of strangers, all intent on cozying up to the richest, most powerful entrepreneur west of the Mississippi—and, to ht She’d proh Cade kneould displease his father, who had not hesitated to say what he thought of his youngest son becoirl orked at Landon Enterprises

“A coround, no money and no connections “She’s not for you, boy,” he said a dozen times over, which only made Cade all the more convinced that she was

“Well?” Charles demanded “Is the Corvette what you wanted?”

Cade swung toward the older htness in his throat The car was surely a sy hiin to understand each other

“Yes,” he said, “yes, it is Thank you, Father Thank you very much I never expected—”

“Make the most of it, boy”

Cade smiled “I will”

“You’ve only got this next semester to play with it” His father chuckled as if he were about to tell a joke “You won’t want to take it to New York with you, after graduation There’s no point in having a car like the ‘Vette in that city”

“New York? But I’ to New York Why would you think—”