‘I’m not precisely sure what that means.’
She bit her lip and then looked him full in the face. Her uncertainty almost undid him.
‘I never ask for what I want. I’m not sure why that’s the case. Habit, I suppose. What I wanted never mattered much to my father, so I guess I thought what I wanted wouldn’t matter much to anyone else either.’
‘It matters to me,’ he said, moving a step closer. ‘Caro, are you saying that you want...me? That you want to give our marriage a second chance?’
Her eyes suddenly flashed. ‘I want to be the one to state what I want, Jack. I don’t want to leave it up to you. I don’t want to leave it up to anyone! I don’t want to place people in a position where they have to guess at what I want. I want to overcome this hateful reticence of mine and say exactly what I mean—at least around you, Barbara and Paul.’
She’d just put him in the same category as the rest of her family and his heart all but stopped. It took a moment for him to catch his breath.
‘What do you want, Caro?’
She met his gaze. ‘I want you, Jack. I want to spend my life with you. I love you.’
He couldn’t contain himself a moment longer. He closed the distance between them and hauled her into his arms. ‘You know I’m never going to be able to let you go again, don’t you?’
Her eyes throbbed into his. ‘I like the sound of that. I also very much want you to kiss me.’
He stared at her infinitely kissable mouth and something in his chest shifted.
‘You don’t need to ask twice.’
He lowered his mouth towards hers and a fraction of a second before their lips met she smiled, as if she suddenly believed that she could have everything she asked for.
Her hope and delight bathed him in a warmth he’d forgotten that he needed. Cradling her face in his hands, he kissed her. Slowly. Thoroughly. Sweetly.
Her hands slid up either side of his neck and she pressed herself to him, kissing him back with the same thoroughness, the same passion and tenderness, and with the same intent to reassure and pour balm on old wounds.
He savoured every moment, something inside him filling up and easing. Then, in a flash and a touch of tongues, the kiss changed to become hungry, hot and demanding. Jack gave himself up to the heady abandon and the flying freedom of it.
He didn’t know how long the kiss lasted, but when they finally eased away from each other it seemed as if the very quality of the light in the room had changed—as if a brand new day had dawned.
Caro touched her tongue to her lips, which did nothing to quieten the hunger roaring through him.
‘Wow...’ she breathed.
A grin stretched through him. ‘You should ask for what you want more often.’
Her eyes danced. ‘I mean to.’ She reached up to touch his face. ‘Jack, I promise to be more open and upfront with you. I know that my reserve played a big role in our troubles five years ago.’
He took her hand, kissed her fingertips. ‘We can put that all behind us now. It’s in the past.’
She shook her head. ‘It’s only in the past if we’ve learned from the mistakes we made back then.’
Ah.
She bit her lip. ‘Jack, can you promise me honesty from now on?’
He recalled the promise she’d extracted from Barbara and Paul. ‘I can promise you honesty, loyalty and acceptance.’
She smiled. ‘I never doubted the second and third of those for a moment. But your urge to protect me...’
He pulled in a breath, knowing he couldn’t give this promise lightly. Finally he nodded. ‘I promise you honesty, Caro. Even if it’s hard for me to say and hard for you to hear.’
‘Thank you.’
‘You promise me the same?’
‘I do,’ she said, without hesitation.
She bit her lip again, and while her eyes didn’t exactly cloud over the light in them dimmed a fraction.
‘What?’ he demanded, immediately alert.
‘I understand your desire for children and a family, Jack, but hundreds and thousands of couples work it out—negotiate it somehow—so I’m sure we can too, and—’
He touched a finger to her lips, halting her rush of words. ‘I’ve been thinking about this a lot, and I think I’ve found a solution.’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘I don’t want you making any unnecessary sacrifices.’
‘I don’t want you doing that either.’
‘Okay...’
She drew the word out and it made him smile. ‘If you’re not totally against the idea of having children—’
‘Oh, I’m not. Not now. Being exposed to Suzie’s two—being their godmother—has made me realise that I’ll never become the kind of remote parent my father was.’
He stared at her. ‘I wish you’d told me that was what you were afraid of five years ago.’ He didn’t want to make the same mistakes ever again where this woman was concerned. He pushed a strand of hair back behind her ear. ‘Why didn’t you ever tell me?’
One of her shoulders lifted. ‘I didn’t want you to laugh at me.’
‘I would never laugh at you.’
‘And I didn’t want my fear dismissed as nonsense.’
He nodded slowly. ‘The fear isn’t nonsense, but the idea that you could be anything less than a loving mother seems crazy to me,’ he admitted.
‘I’m confident enough in myself now to see the difference.’
He touched the backs of his fingers to her cheek. ‘We married too soon, didn’t we?’
Five years ago he’d wanted all his dreams to come true then and there.
She caught his hand in hers and kissed it. ‘I understand we needed a trial by fire to cement what was really important. I only wish it hadn’t take us five years to get through it.’
He wanted to wipe the sadness and the remembered pain from her eyes. ‘I promise to never walk away from you the way I did five years ago. I should’ve stayed and fought for you back then. I will always fight for you, Caro.’
The brilliance of her smile almost blindsided him. ‘I think I’m going to have to ask you to kiss me again.’
He laughed. ‘How does this sound? When you’re ready, we can start a family...and if you want to return to work then that’s what you’ll do, and I can be the stay-at-home parent.’
Her eyes widened, brightened. ‘Really?’
‘I’d love it.’ He would too. ‘My business is doing brilliantly, and I’m proud of it, but it’s just something to fill in the time. I can hire a manager to take over operations, or even take on a partner. I might do the odd bit of consultancy work, just to keep my hand in, but building a family with you, Caro, is what I really want to do.’
She smiled back at him with a mistiness that had him throwing his head back and laughing for the sheer joy of it. ‘We both have more money than either one of us will ever conceivably need. We can hire all the help we need or want—housekeepers, nannies, gardeners.’
Her eyes shone so bright they made him feel he was at the centre of the universe.
‘Would you like to remain in London?’ He didn’t care where they lived.
‘Oh! I hadn’t thought about it. I love London, but I’m sure I’d love Australia too, and—’
‘It’s just—’ he glanced around ‘—this house is huge. If we stayed here then maybe, down the track, we could think about fostering kids in need.’
He’d barely finished before she threw her arms around his neck and held him tight. ‘That sounds perfect—absolutely perfect! Now, as it appears you won’t kiss me, I’ll just have to kiss you instead.’
His heart expanded until he thought it would grow too big for his chest. Her lips moved to within millimetres of his—
‘Darlings, there’s tea and cake if you’d like some.’
With a smile that set his blood on fire, Caro eased away to glance at Barbara. ‘I’d love cake, but there’s some paperwork I need Jack to go over...uh...upstairs.’ Taking his hand, she l
ed him out of the room, past a bemused Barbara and up the staircase. ‘Make sure you leave us some!’ she shot over her shoulder.
He started to laugh when they reached her room. ‘You’re not fooling anyone with that story, you know.’
‘I know—but you can’t expect a lifetime of reserve to simply vanish overnight. And the odd polite fiction keeps the wheels turning smoothly.’
He stared at her, barely able to believe he was there with her. ‘I love you, Caro. I will cherish this and keep it safe—’ he opened his hand to reveal the snuffbox ‘—in the same way I will always cherish your heart and do all I can to keep it safe.’
Her eyes burned into his. ‘I love you, Jack. I will do everything I can think of to make you happy.’
‘You promise to always tell me what you want?’
She nodded and then grinned. ‘Want to know what I want right now?’
His mouth dried at the look in her eyes. ‘What?’ he croaked.
‘You,’ she whispered, moving across to stand in front of him. Reaching up on tiptoe, she pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. ‘I want you.’
‘You have me,’ he promised, his lips descending towards hers.
‘Forever?’
‘Forever.’
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from SWEPT INTO THE RICH MAN’S WORLD by Katrina Cudmore.
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Swept into the Rich Man’s World
by Katrina Cudmore
CHAPTER ONE
‘HELLO? IS ANYONE HOME?’
Her lungs on fire, Aideen Ryan desperately heaved in some air as she waited for someone to answer her knock and call. She had run in the dark through gale-force winds and rain to get to Ashbrooke House: the only place that could give her shelter from the storm currently pounding the entire Atlantic coastline of Ireland.
Ashbrooke House, stately home of billionaire Patrick Fitzsimon. A man who, given the impenetrable walls that surrounded his vast estate and his über-wealthy lifestyle, was unlikely to welcome her intrusion.
She straightened her rain jacket and ran a hand through her hair. Oh, for crying out loud. Her hair was a tangled mess. Soaked to the skull and resembling a frizz bomb... She really hoped it wouldn’t be Patrick Fitzsimon who answered the door. Not the suave, gorgeous man she had seen in countless magazines. A man who stared at the camera with such serious intensity and intelligence that she had held her breath in alarm, worried for a few crazy seconds that he could see her spying on him.
The only sightings anyone ever made of him locally was when he was helicoptered in and out of the estate. Intrigued, she had looked him up. But just because she’d been unable to resist checking out her neighbour, one of the world’s ‘top ten most eligible billionaire bachelors’, it didn’t alter the fact that she was determined to keep her life a man-free zone.
A nearby tree branch creaked loudly as a ferocious gust of wind and rain swept up from the sea. How was her poor cottage faring in the storm without her? And how on earth was her business going to survive this?
Pushing down her spiralling panic, she took hold of the brass knocker and rapped it against the imposing door again, the metal vibrating against her skin.
‘Hello? Please... I need help. Is anyone home?’
Please, please, let one of his staff answer.
But the vast house remained in silence, while beyond the columned entrance porch sheets of rain swept across the often written about formal gardens of Ashbrooke.
And then slow realisation dawned. Although outside lighting had showcased the perfect symmetry and beauty of the Palladian house as she had run up the driveway, not a single interior light had shone through the large sash windows.
In her panic, that simple fact had failed to register with her...until now.
What if nobody was at home?
But that didn’t make sense. A house this size had to have an army of staff. The classically inspired villa had a three-storey central block, connected by colonnades to two vast wings. The house was enormous—even bigger than the pictures suggested.
Somebody simply had to be home. They probably just couldn’t hear her above the storm. She needed to knock louder.
She grabbed hold of the knocker again, but just as she raised it high to pound it down on the door the door swung open. As she flew forward with it all she could see was a tanned, muscular six-pack vanishing beneath a grey sweatshirt, its owner in the midst of quickly dressing. But not before she headbutted that glorious vision of masculine perfection.
It was like colliding against steel. As she ricocheted backwards she heard a loud grunt. Then hands gripped her upper arms and yanked her back from slamming bottom first on to the ground. The momentum pulled her back towards that hard body, and this time her forehead landed heavily on the person’s chest with a thud.
For a moment neither of them moved, and her already spinning head became lost in a giddy sensation of warmth, the safe embrace of another human being, the deep, masculine scent of a man...
She couldn’t tell who sprang away first, but as embarrassment barrelled through her, her eyes dropped down to bare feet and dark grey sweatpants before travelling back up over a long, lean, muscular body. Dark stubble lined a sculpted jawline. Taking a deep swallow, she looked up into eyes that were the light blue of an early-morning Irish spring sky. How often had she tried without success to replicate that colour in her designs?
Patrick Fitzsimon.
Those beautiful blue eyes narrowed. ‘What the—?’
‘I’m sorry I woke you, but my home’s been flooded and everything I own is probably floating to America at this stage. I tried to drive into Mooncoyne but the road is flooded. My car got stuck. I was so glad your gates were open... I thought they would be locked, like they usually are. I honestly didn’t know what I was going to do if they were locked.’
He held up a hand in the universal stop position. ‘Okay. Slow down. Let’s start again. Explain to me who you are.’
Oh, why did she jabber so much when she was nervous? And, for crying out loud, did she have to blush so brightly that she could light up a small house?
Pushing her hand out towards him, she said, ‘I’m Aideen Ryan. I’m your neighbour. I live in Fuchsia Cottage...down by the edge of the lough.’
He gave a quick nod of recognition, but then he drew his arms across his impossibly wide chest and his gaze narrowed even more. ‘What is it you need, exactly?’
Humiliation burnt in her chest at having to ask for help from a stranger, but she looked into his cool blue eyes and blurted out what had to be said. ‘I need a place to stay tonight.’
His mouth twisted unhappily. For a moment she feared he was about to close the door on her.
But instead he took a backward step and said, ‘Come inside.’
At best, it was a very reluctant invitation.
The door closed behind them with a solid clunk. Without uttering a word, he left her standing alone in the vast entrance hall. Her body started to shake as her wet clothes clung to her limbs. Her teeth chattered in the vast space and, to her ears, seemed to echo off the dome-shaped ceiling, from which hung the largest crystal chandelier she’d ever seen.
Why couldn’t she have a normal neighbour? Why did hers have to be a billionaire who lived in a palace at the end of a mile-long driveway? She hated having to ask f
or help. From anyone. But having to ask for help from a megarich gorgeous man made her feel as though the universe was having a good laugh at her expense.
When he returned, he passed her a yellow and white striped towel without comment. Accepting it gratefully, she patted her hands and face. For a moment their eyes met.
Her heart stuttered as his gaze assessed her, his generous mouth flattened into a grimace, his long legs planted wide apart, his body rigid. Her breath caught. She felt intimidated by the intensity of his stare, his size, his silent unsmiling presence. She lowered her gaze and concentrated on twisting the towel through her hair, her eyes closing as an unaccountable nervousness overtook her.
‘So where’s your car?’
‘I tried to drive into Mooncoyne but the river had burst its banks at Foley’s Bridge. It’s the same on your estate—the bridge on your drive is impassable, too.’
He shook his head in confusion. ‘So how did you get here?’
‘I climbed on to the bridge wall and crawled along it... My car is still on the other side.’
* * *
Just great. Not only had he been woken from a jet-lagged sleep, but now he realised he was dealing with a crazy woman. This was all he needed.
‘Are you serious? Are you telling me you climbed over a flooded river in gale-force winds? Have you lost your mind?’
For a moment a wounded look flashed in her cocoa-brown eyes, but then she stared defiantly back at him.
‘The sea was about to flood my cottage. I called the emergency services but they are swamped with the flooding throughout Mooncoyne. And anyway they can’t reach here—Foley’s Bridge is impassable even to them. You’re my only neighbour. There was no other place I could come to for shelter.’ Throwing her head back, she took a deep breath before she continued, a tremor in her voice. ‘I did contemplate staying in my car overnight, but frankly I was more concerned about hypothermia than climbing along a bridge wall.’
Okay, so she had a point. But it had still been a crazy risk to take.
Harlequin Romance February 2016 Box Set Page 52