In July, escape to a world of beautiful locations, glamorous parties and irresistible men—only with Harlequin Presents!

Lucy Monroe brings you a brilliant new story in her ROYAL BRIDES series, Forbidden: The Billionaire’s Virgin Princess, where Sebastian can’t ignore Lina’s provocative innocence! Be sure to look out next month for another royal bride! The Sicilian’s Ruthless Marriage Revenge is the start of Carole Mortimer’s sexy new trilogy, THE SICILIANS. Three Sicilians of aristocratic birth seek passion—at any price! And don’t miss The Greek Tycoon’s Convenient Wife by Sharon Kendrick—the fabulous conclusion to her GREEK BILLIONAIRES’ BRIDES duet.

Also this month, there are hot desert nights in Penny Jordan’s The Sheikh’s Blackmailed Mistress, a surprise pregnancy in The Italian’s Secret Baby by Kim Lawrence, a sexy boss in Helen Brooks’s The Billionaire Boss’s Secretary Bride and an incredible Italian in Under the Italian’s Command by Susan Stephens. Also be sure to read Robyn Grady’s fantastic new novel, The Australian Millionaire’s Love-Child!

We’d love to hear what you think about Presents. E-mail us at [email protected] or join in the discussions at www.iheartpresents.com and www.sensationalromance.blogspot.com, where you’ll also find more information about books and authors!

Don’t be late!

He’s suave and sophisticated.

He’s undeniably charming.

And above all, he treats her like a lady….

Beneath the tux, there’s a primal, passionate lover who’s determined to make her his!

Wined, dined and swept away by a British billionaire!

TORONTO • NEW YORK • LONDON

AMSTERDAM • PARIS • SYDNEY • HAMBURG

STOCKHOLM • ATHENS • TOKYO • MILAN • MADRID

PRAGUE • WARSAW • BUDAPEST • AUCKLAND

HELEN BROOKS was born and educated in Northampton, England. She met her husband at the age of sixteeen, and thirty-five years later the magic is still there. They have three lovely children and a menagerie of animals in the house! The children, friends and pets all keep the house buzzing and the food cupboards empty, but Helen wouldn’t have it any other way.

Helen began writing in 1990 as she approached that milestone of a birthday—forty! She realized her two teenage ambitions (writing a novel and learning to drive) had been lost amid babies and family life, so she set about resurrecting them. Her first novel was accepted after one rewrite, and she passed her driving test (the former was a joy and the latter an unmitigated nightmare).

Helen is a committed Christian and fervent animal lover. Though she finds time is always at a premium, she somehow fits in walks in the countryside with her husband and dogs, meals out followed by the cinema or theater, reading, swimming and visiting with friends. She also enjoys sitting in her wonderfully therapeutic, rambling old garden in the sun with a glass of red wine (under the guise of resting while thinking, of course!).

Since becoming a full-time writer, Helen has found her occupation one of pure joy. She loves exploring what makes people tick and finds the old adage “truth is stranger than fiction” to be absolutely true. She would love to hear from any readers, care of Harlequin Presents.

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

‘I STILL can’t believe you’re really going, that this is your last day. All along I thought you’d change your mind. I mean, you’ve been here for ever, Gina.’

Gina Leighton couldn’t help but smile at her office junior’s plaintive voice. ‘Perhaps that’s why I’m leaving, Natalie,’ she said quietly. ‘Because I’ve been here for ever, as you put it.’

OK, so ‘for ever’ was actually the last eleven years, since she had left university at the age of twenty-one, but clearly as far as Natalie was concerned Gina was as much a part of Breedon & Son as the bricks and mortar. As far as everyone was concerned, most likely. Especially him.

‘I know I shan’t be able to get on with Susan.’ Natalie stared at her mournfully. ‘She’s not like you.’

‘You’ll be fine,’ Gina said bracingly. She didn’t mean it. In the last four weeks since she had been showing Susan Richards—her replacement—the ropes, she had come to realise Susan didn’t suffer fools gladly. Not that Natalie was a fool, not at all—but she was something of a feather-brain at times, who had to have everything explained at least twice for it to click. Susan had already expressed her impatience with the girl in no uncertain terms, ignoring the fact that Natalie was a hard worker and always willing to go the extra mile.

But this wasn’t her problem. In a few hours from now, she would walk out of Breedon & Son for the last time. Not only that but she was leaving the Yorkshire market-town where she had been born and raised along with all her friends and family and moving to London at the weekend. New job, new flat, new lifestyle—new everything.

Her stomach doing a fairly good imitation of a pancake on Shrove Tuesday, Gina waved her hand at the papers on her desk. ‘I need to finish some things, Natalie, before the drinks and nibbles.’ Her boss was putting on a little farewell party for her for the last couple of hours of the afternoon, and she wanted to tie up any loose ends before she left.

Once Natalie had returned to the outer office, however, Gina sat staring round the large and comfortable room that had been her working domain for the last four years, since she had worked her way up to personal secretary to the founder of the agricultural-machinery firm. She’d been thrilled at first, the prestige and extremely generous salary adding to her sense of self-worth. And Dave Breedon was a good boss, a nice family-man with a sense of humour which matched hers. But then Dave Breedon wasn’t the reason she was leaving…

‘No eleventh-hour change of heart?’

The deep male voice brought Gina’s gaze to the doorway. ‘Of course not,’ she said with a composure that belied her racing heartbeat. But then she had had plenty of practice in disguising how she felt about Harry Breedon, her boss’s only son and right-hand man. She stared into the tanned and ruggedly handsome face, her deep blue eyes revealing nothing beyond cool amusement. ‘You didn’t seriously think there was any chance of that, surely?’

He shrugged. ‘“Hoped” is perhaps a better word.’

Ridiculous, because she had long since accepted Harry’s flirting meant absolutely nothing, but her breathing quickened in spite of herself. ‘Sorry,’ she said evenly. ‘But my bags are already packed.’