Trust in Tomorrow

by Carole Mortimer

  ‘Without telling me.’

  ‘I didn’t want to put you in the position of having to lie to your mother, needed a few days with Camilla before the trouble began. It wouldn’t have been fair to expect you to keep it from your mother. But I knew we couldn’t keep it a secret for ever, that sooner or later the media would get hold of the story, and so a few days before the—the accident I told your mother myself. She took it very calmly, even congratulated me. And she offered to tell you, said it would be better coming from her. I realise now that she was planning to take those damned pills all the time, that she perhaps hoped to turn you against Camilla and me for hurting her so much she tried to take her own life.’

  ‘She didn’t tell me about Camilla and you,’ Chelsea confirmed. ‘Even though we stayed in together for a couple of evenings before she—before she died.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Princess,’ he sighed. ‘Really sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be,’ she hugged him. ‘Mom may not have meant to kill herself this time, but sooner or later one of us would have done something to upset her and maybe that time we wouldn’t have been there to stop her either.’ She could see the truth of that now that she knew about the past. ‘I loved Mom, still love her, but no one should live with that threat over their life, you have a right to be happy.’

  ‘Camilla does make me very happy,’ he nodded.

  ‘Is she going to be all right?’

  ‘I’ve lived through and accepted whatever responsibility I have for your mother’s death, and Camilla knows that. I think she’s going to be fine,’ he gave a relieved smile. ‘We all are. Now we just have to sort out the mess you and Lucas have made of your own relationship.’

  ‘There is no relationship!’ she told him stiffly.

  His brows rose. ‘And what was last night?’

  ‘For me? The most beautiful night of my life. For Lucas? Just another sexual experience,’ she dismissed disgustedly.

  ‘He wants to marry you, Princess.’

  She drew in a sharp breath. ‘Did he tell you that?’

  Jace shook his head. ‘He asked if I minded having my brother-in-law as a son-in-law!’ His mouth quirked.

  ‘But don’t you see,’ she sighed. ‘He’s only doing that because you know about last night and he feels guilty—’

  ‘Like hell I am!’ Lucas exploded from the direction of the kitchen.

  Chelsea stepped back. ‘I thought you had gone to work,’ she gasped.

  He scowled across the room at her. ‘How could I do that with you wandering off to God knows where?’ he snapped. ‘I called the office and had a colleague take over my appointments for the day.’

  ‘Jennifer Sutton?’ she scorned.

  His mouth twisted. ‘Jennifer has decided to move on to another law firm.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘You should have seen your daughter the night she ousted Jennifer from my life, Jace,’ he spoke derisively. ‘She was more wickedly delightful than usual.’

  ‘D… delightful?’ Chelsea echoed as Jace chuckled his enjoyment.

  Suddenly Lucas was smiling, more light-hearted than she had ever seen him. ‘Delightful,’ he nodded. ‘I mean it when I told you that with you here my life is no longer dull. And I don’t want you to ever leave. I want to get up with you every morning, come home to you every night—’

  ‘Don’t go any further,’ Jace warned. ‘Save my blushes.’

  Lucas gave a disbelieving snort. ‘You’re even worse than your daughter when it comes to being outrageous.’ His gaze returned to Chelsea. ‘That evening you were waiting with my drink and asked me about my day was when I think I began to fall in love with you.’

  ‘You mocked me,’ she said with remembered pain.

  ‘Yes,’ he sighed. ‘It was the only way I could stop myself from kissing you. I—’

  ‘I’d better go,’ Jace put in quietly, clasping the other man’s shoulder affectionately. ‘No man should have to tell a woman of his love in front of an audience.’

  Lucas smiled at him. ‘Believe me, it’s getting easier with practice!’

  ‘I’m sure,’ Jace was chuckling as he went in search of Camilla.

  There was an awkward silence once her father had left, and Chelsea looked at Lucas beneath lowered lashes, unsure what happened next, still very unsure of Lucas.

  ‘It’s been so long since someone took an interest in my life, Chelsea,’ Lucas spoke softly. ‘Since someone cared enough to listen, that I didn’t know how to cope with it. Can you understand that?’

  ‘I think so.’ She didn’t sound convinced.

  ‘Last night,’ he persisted. ‘When I insisted you go back to your own room, I only did that because I wanted to face Jace with a relatively clear conscience when I told him we wanted to get married.’

  ‘You said you didn’t love me,’ she reminded stubbornly.

  ‘At that point I didn’t realise I did, but when Jace arrived I wanted to protect you, tell him that we loved each other. I think I broke into a thousand pieces when you walked out on me after I told you I couldn’t let you stay the night. What you had said, about waking up next to a person after making love and feeling good about it, I knew I felt good about it, that I wanted you there next to me for the rest of your life.’

  ‘You didn’t say any of that!’

  ‘Because I knew you would react exactly as you did a few minutes ago; believe I made the declaration out of guilt. I felt—awkward, with Jace here, but I certainly didn’t feel guilty. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life loving you.’

  ‘Here?’

  ‘Anywhere you’ll be happy.’

  ‘You thought me too immature to accept Jace’s marriage to Camilla,’ she accused.

  ‘I didn’t tell you out of respect for Jace’s wishes. But I told him I thought he should tell you, but he insisted your mother’s death had been enough of a shock for now. I had to respect his wishes, Chelsea,’ he pleaded for her understanding. ‘Darling, please believe me.’

  ‘I do,’ she nodded.

  ‘But you can’t forgive me,’ he sighed.

  ‘Yes, I can.’

  Lucas frowned as she still regarded him steadily. ‘You no longer love me?’

  ‘Yes, I do. I always will.’

  ‘Then what’s wrong?’ he groaned. ‘Are you still angry with me, is that it?’

  ‘You said I would outgrow my love for you,’ she reminded.

  ‘I’m willing to take the risk!’

  ‘There may be no risk to take!’

  ‘Chelsea…?’

  Her eyes began to glow. ‘Lucas, I’m still waiting for my marriage proposal,’ she mocked. ‘Jace assures me you want to marry me, you assure me you want to marry me, but so far no one has asked me!’

  ‘Oh, darling, I forgot!’ Lucas realised self-derisively. ‘Will you marry me, Chelsea?’ Brown eyes looked pleadingly into hers.

  ‘Yes—’

  ‘Darling!’

  ‘On one condition,’ she added as he took her into his arms.

  ‘A baby by next Christmas sounds wonderful.’ His strong arms strained her to him. ‘I’ve even thought of a couple of names, how about Noelle for a girl and Christopher for a boy?’

  ‘I like Holly for a girl better.’ She was thrilled that he had actually thought about them having a baby. ‘But that isn’t the condition I meant.’

  Lucas looked down at her frowningly. ‘Then what is?’

  ‘I want you to send the manuscript I read to a publisher—It is good enough, Lucas,’ she insisted as he went to object. ‘Anyway, what harm can it do to send it; they can only say no!’

  ‘That’s what I’m afraid of,’ he grimaced.

  ‘You aren’t afraid of anything,’ she scoffed. ‘And then, if it’s accepted, I want you to take at least a year off from your law-practice to write another one.’

  ‘That’s two conditions!’

  ‘One long one,’ she insisted, touching his cheek lovingly. ‘Will you do it?’

&nbs
p; ‘For you?’

  ‘No, for you. You have to live your dreams, Lucas, because you never get a second chance. I’ll never restrict you, I want you to always do what you want to do.’

  ‘Even if I wanted to rejoin a commune?’ he teased.

  She laughed softly. ‘You’ll get enough “free love” at home!’

  ‘I know I will. And I’ll love you with everything that’s in me,’ he promised.

  She knew that he would too, that Lucas would make her, and any children they had, the centre of his world. He was that sort of man. ‘Will you send the manuscript to a publisher? And then take a year off if it’s accepted?’

  ‘I think I’m going to need our first year together to make love to you as often as I need to.’

  ‘Then take two years off!’

  ‘We’ll see.’ His head bent and he began to kiss her, neither of them giving any more thought to the future for some time.

  * * *

  Their daughter Holly was born a week before Christmas the following year, the same day her father’s book entered the top ten of the bestseller list. Their son Christopher was born almost a year later, when their father’s second book topped the bestseller list!

  * * * * *

  Now, read on for a tantalizing excerpt of Sharon Kendrick’s next book,

  CROWNED FOR THE SHEIKH’S BABY

  Sensible Hannah never expected to attend a glamorous party with Sheikh Kulal. A searing kiss leads to an incredible night—and shocking consequences! Now Kulal will claim his heir, by making Hannah his desert queen!

  Keep reading to get a glimpse of

  CROWNED FOR THE SHEIKH’S BABY

  PROLOGUE

  We trust you will find everything to your satisfaction.

  KULAL’S MOUTH HARDENED into a cynical smile. As if. When did anything in life ever truly satisfy?

  Crushing the handwritten note—one of the many personal touches which made this Sardinian hotel complex so achingly luxurious—he threw it into the bin in a perfect arcing shot and walked over to the balcony.

  Restlessly, his eyes skated over the horizon. He wondered why he could feel no joy in his heart or why the warmth of the sun left him feeling cold. He had just achieved a life’s ambition by bringing together some of the world’s biggest oil moguls. They’d told him it was impossible. That masterminding the diaries of so many powerful men simply couldn’t be done. But Kulal had proved them wrong. He liked proving people wrong, just as he enjoyed defying the expectations which had been heaped on him since the day his older brother had turned his back on his heritage and left him to rule.

  He had worked day and night to make this conference happen. To convince attendees with his famously seductive tongue that it was time to look at renewable energy sources, rather than relying on the fossil fuels of old. Kings and sheikhs had agreed with him and pledges had been made. The cheers following his opening speech had echoed long into the night. There were now but a few days left for him to hammer out the fine details of the deal—and he was able to do it in a place which many people considered close to paradise. Yet he felt…

  He gave a heavy sigh which mingled with the warm Sardinian breeze.

  Certainly not drunk with glory, as other men in his position might be, and he couldn’t work out why. At thirty-four he was considered by many to be at his intellectual and physical peak. He was known as a fair, if sometimes autocratic ruler and he ruled a prosperous land. And yes, he had a few enemies at court—men who would have preferred his twin brother to have been King, because they considered him more malleable. But all rulers had to deal with insurrection. It came with the job—it was certainly nothing new.

  So why wasn’t he punching the air with glee? Kulal contemplated the horizon without really seeing it. Perhaps he had been working so hard that he’d neglected the more basic needs of his body. Not to put too fine a point on it—his legendary libido, which had been sidelined ever since he had finished with his long-term mistress, a few months back. It didn’t help that she had made the break-up official with a tearful interview in one of those glossy magazines which filled women’s heads with meaningless froth. And that as a consequence his name had zoomed back to the top of one of those tedious ‘most eligible’ lists—and he now seemed to be on some kind of matrimonial hit list. Rather ironic since he had always avoided marriage like the plague, no matter how determined the woman.

  He yawned. His relationship with the international supermodel had lasted almost a year—a record for him. He had chosen her not just because she was blonde and leggy and could work wonders with her tongue, but because she seemed to accept what he would and wouldn’t tolerate in a relationship. But in the end she had sabotaged it with her neediness. He’d stated at the start that he wouldn’t put a ring on her finger. That he had no desire for family or long-term commitment. Because didn’t domesticity forge cold chains, which could suffocate? He had promised sex, diamonds and a fancy apartment—and had honoured those pledges in full. But she had wanted more. Women always did. They wanted to bleed you dry until there was nothing left.

  Dark and bitter memories washed over him but he forced himself to block them out as he leaned against the rail of the balcony, looking out at boats bobbing around on the Mediterranean. He thought how different this busy stretch of water was from the peace of the Murjaan Sea, which lapped on the eastern shores of his desert homeland. But then, everything about this place was different. The sights. The scents. The sounds. The women who lay on sun-loungers in their minuscule bikinis. One of his aides had told him that the loungers directly beneath his penthouse suite were always the first to go—presumably occupied by those hoping to catch the eye of Zahristan’s desert King. Kulal’s lips curved in disdain. Did they, like so many others, imagine themselves in the role of Queen? That they would succeed where so many had failed?

  Surveying the women directly beneath him, he felt not a flicker of excitement as he glanced at their half-naked bodies, which glistened in the sun. He thought they looked like oiled pieces of chicken about to be thrown onto the barbecue, their half-open mouths thick with lipstick and tilted straw hats protecting their hair extensions.

  And then he saw her.

  Kulal tensed, his eyes narrowing and his heart beginning to pound.

  Did she capture his focus and keep it captured because she was wearing more than anyone else, as she hurried across the terrace with an anxious look on her face? In fact, she was wearing the standard hotel uniform—a plain yellow dress, which was straining over her voluminous breasts and clinging to the swell of her curvy buttocks. He though how fresh she looked with that shiny ponytail swishing against her back as she walked. Certainly, when contrasted with all the flesh on show, the brunette seemed positively wholesome and, although such women were rare in Kulal’s world, he reminded himself that she was a member of the hotel staff. And sleeping with staff was never a good idea.

  But a small sigh escaped his lips as he turned away.

  Pity.

  CHAPTER ONE

  ‘HANNAH, DO NOT look so nervous. I merely said I wished to speak to you about the Sheikh.’

  Hannah tried to smile as she looked up at Madame Martin—fixing her face into the kind of expression which would be expected of a highly experienced chambermaid. She must look eager—and at all times, because this job was the opportunity of a lifetime and breaks like this didn’t come along very often. Wasn’t it true that every other chambermaid at the Granchester in London had been green with envy when Hannah had been picked to work in the fancy Sardinian branch of the hotel group because they were short-staffed? She suspected they would have been even more envious if they’d realised that Sheikh Kulal Al Diya was a guest here—a billionaire desert king who everyone on this Mediterranean island seemed to think was some kind of walking sex god.

  But not her.

  No, definitely not her. She’d only seen him a couple of times but each time he’d terrified her, with all that dark brooding stuff going on and that way he had of s
lanting his black eyes in a way which had made her feel most peculiar. Hadn’t her breasts sprung into alarming life the first time she’d seen him, causing the nipples to feel as if they were about to burst right through her bra? And hadn’t she wanted to squirm with a strange and unfamiliar hunger as that ebony gaze had swept over her? For once she hadn’t felt in control and that had made her feel extremely uncomfortable, because Hannah liked to feel in control.

  She brushed her clammy palms down over her lemon-coloured uniform—a bad idea since it drew the attention of Madame Martin to her hips and instantly the Frenchwoman frowned.

  ‘Tiens!’ she exclaimed. ‘Your dress is a little tight, n’est ce pas?’

  ‘It’s the only one they had which fitted, Madame Martin,’ said Hannah apologetically.

  The elegant woman who was in charge of all the domestic staff at Hotel L’Idylle raised her perfectly plucked eyebrows. ‘C’est vrai.’ She gave a resigned sigh. ‘You Englishwomen are… ’ow you say? Big girls!’

  Hannah’s smile didn’t slip because who was she to deny the truth behind Madame Martin’s words? She certainly wasn’t as slim as her continental peers. She liked her food, had a healthy appetite and wasn’t going to make any apology for it. Like much else, mealtimes had been unpredictable when she’d been growing up and you never forgot something like that. She’d never forget the dull gnaw of hunger, or how eagerly she’d seized on any scraps she’d managed to salvage to put together something resembling a meal. She didn’t spend her life picking at her food, that was for sure—unlike her sister, who seemed to think that eating was an unnecessary waste of time.