“You ratbag, you’d guessed!” She laughed and swatted at him with her hand. She should’ve known Corbin would’ve cottoned-on almost the moment she had.
“Well, I was hoping. Come here, you beautiful, beautiful woman.”
Zani went.
“You’ll have to marry me now,” he said, after kissing her thoroughly.
“Oh, I suppose so.” She smiled at him and settled herself more comfortably in his lap.
“Mon dieu, is that a yes? Finally a yes.”
“It is. And not just because I’m pregnant.”
“Let’s do it now, today.”
“Here? Marion would never forgive us.”
“Okay. La Rochelle, at Maman’s chateau. They’ve a beautiful chapel there.”
“Sounds perfect. But I’m serious about the pregnancy thing. It makes no difference. If I wasn’t ready to marry you, I wouldn’t be doing it.” She had to make him understand that, finally, she was ready to marry him.
“I know, cherie. Believe me, I know. So you are sure, then?”
“Corbin, you are the most perfectly wonderful man in the world. Before I met you, my life was grey and sad. Now it’s white houses and blue sea and yellow sunshine. Even when it’s raining. Before, in England, I woke each morning and had to check you were still there. I never thought you would be. I couldn’t understand how you could bear to be with me. But now I know you’ll be there. I trust what you say to me, that you love me. I’ve put Mum’s death behind me, Marion and Dad are my family, but they don’t control me. Paul’s gone. But he’ll turn up one day, and when he does I’ll welcome him. When Everwood was sold, I thought I was losing my heart and soul, but now I see I lost a thousand lifetimes of misery instead. I thought it was my haven, but it wasn’t. It was my millstone, and finally I’ve cast it off. Thank you for waiting for me.”
“Zani, I was, am, so in love with you, that there was nothing else I could do. I love you, Madam Zaniah le Joli de Villiers de Saint Marc.”
“Good grief.” Holding her hat on with one hand, Zani threw back her head and laughed.
Secret Intentions
About the Author
To learn more about Caitlyn Nicholas, please visit http://www.caitlynnicholas.com. Send an email to Cait at [email protected] or join her Yahoo! group to join in the fun with other readers as well as Cait! http://groups.yahoo.com/group/caitlynnicholas
Secret Intentions
Look for these titles by Caitlyn Nicholas
Now Available:
Running Scared
Trapped in a war zone, wanted for murder and standing on a landmine:
sometimes life doesn’t quite go as planned.
Running Scared
© 2007 Caitlyn Nicholas
Poised and sophisticated, Julie Marchant lives for her job. Buying gems, she travels the world mixing with the rich, the famous and the sinister.
Throwing caution to the wind, Julie is swept away in a night of passion. When she wakes to find herself alone, she thinks she’ll never see archeologist Mitchell Cartwright again. However, fate has other ideas. She travels to Laos and they meet, just as the country teeters on the brink of civil war. Trapped, they flee together, but their past history and a murderous secret mean the road to safety, and love, is complicated and treacherous.
Enjoy the following excerpt from Running Scared:
“Will we be needing that?” asked Julie, indicating the metal detector Mani had hitched over his shoulder.
“Probably not,” he replied. “We’ll be following a safe trail which has been cleared of UXO and landmines. It’s a well-used track, but there are landmines all through the plain and we might have to take a detour.”
Julie made a mental note not to stray from the track.
To begin with, the trail was easy, but after a short while it turned sharply and began to weave its way up the dark green ridge that loomed above them. The jungle canopy closed in, the light became an eerie gloom and the thick leaves muffled all sound. The breeze which had drifted through the village disappeared and the jungle was creepily still.
Julie hated the claustrophobic atmosphere. Accustomed to visiting underground mines, she didn’t have a problem with enclosed spaces. But the creepy silence raised the hairs on the back of her neck, making her eager to get to the other side of the ridge and walk once more in the open sunshine of the plain.
Walking behind Julie, completely unperturbed by the suffocating atmosphere, Mitch enjoyed the view of her round bottom encased in jeans making its way up the track in front of him. With a small jolt, he remembered how it’d felt in his hands as he pulled her to him the night before.
Distracted and not looking where he went, he turned his ankle sharply on a small, round boulder sticking out of the ground. Pulled sideways by the weight of the backpack, he tottered ungracefully for a moment. Regaining his balance, he cursed silently. His ankle throbbed, but he could still walk, and he continued with more caution, studiously ignoring Julie’s bottom.
Soon he put aside all thoughts except reaching the top of the ridge. The track became darker, steeper and rougher, and despite his high level of fitness, he breathed heavily, with every muscle screaming for rest.
Julie collapsed onto a large rock when they stopped briefly at the top of the ridge. She wiped stinging sweat from her face with her sleeve.
“Drink?” Mitch handed her a water bottle. She took it, breathlessly nodding her thanks, and drank deeply. Then, drawing in a slow steadying breath, she tried to stop panting. Her heart beat so hard that it actually hurt. Through a gap in the canopy of the jungle she glimpsed the plain, spread out below them like a quilt.
“Ready to go?” asked Mani after a few minutes.
Julie absolutely wasn’t ready to go anywhere, but, keen to get out of the oppressive jungle, she kept quiet. The descent was tougher than she’d imagined. Assuming the worst was over, it only took a few minutes for her to realise how wrong she’d been. The uneven track was treacherously steep. Julie had to grab at the thin saplings that grew fruitlessly in the dim light, as she slithered down, sending small avalanches of loose scree ahead of her.
They arrived on the grassy plain so suddenly that it took Julie a moment to realise the awful walk had ended. One minute she climbed awkwardly down huge boulders, her legs feeling like jelly and a graze on her knee hurting. Then, as if someone had lifted a curtain, she emerged into the gentle sunlight and the grassy plain stretched before her.
After a rest and some food, Julie decided she might make it to Route 7 after all. The landscape undulated gently and the path had been cleared of rocks and obstacles. The footprints of both animals and people were easy to spot in the baked mud.
The day was cool and sunny and the easy terrain meant that rather than concentrating on where she walked, Julie could allow her mind to drift. Her thoughts turned inevitably to Mitch and the conversation she’d had with Rong Zhao the night before. She happily admitted she’d never experienced anything like the physical attraction which existed between them. He had only to look at her a certain way and her insides turned to liquid heat. But now, she realised there was more than just physical attraction.
Julie flatly refused to let herself believe in anything like love at first sight. Lust at first sight maybe, but not love. So how then did she explain the intense connection she’d felt to Mitch since the moment he’d loomed out of the shadows at the Red Cross Charity ball?
Surely it can’t be love? True, when she was with him, it felt like some ephemeral part of her world which had been missing had finally found its way home. But this connection, this feeling of oneness, must have some other explanation. I can’t be in love, it’s too soon. Julie had always believed love grew and developed; it didn’t arrive like a thunderbolt and hit you out of nowhere. Confused, she shook her head. Love opened such a can of worms and she had no idea how Mitch really felt about her. Unable to deny the intense emotion, she elected to tuck it away. She’d worry about it later, when they were s
afe.
They’d been walking for some time through the hilly, grassy meadows, interspersed from time to time with groves of trees and even the odd jar. Mitch itched to go and have a closer look at the jars. Telling himself they had no time, that it was impossible, he tried to make a mental note of where they lay for later investigation.
They walked in single file. Mitch had been following a few meters behind Julie, putting one foot in front of the other and not really thinking about where he went. Needing to answer the call of nature, he ducked off the track to a nearby grove of trees. When he emerged, Julie hadn’t even realised he’d gone. He could see her dark head disappearing over a rise in the track ahead. Without thinking, he followed her, angling back toward the track, stepping through the long grass. Just a few meters from the edge of the track, he put his foot down and the ground shifted slightly. There was an audible and ominous click.
Caught in the sights of a killer, David and Miranda fight for life—and the chance to love again.
Love on the Run
© 2007 Marie-Nicole Ryan
Miranda Raines thinks she has found a safe haven in Oxford, England, until Scotland Yard DCI David French knocks on her door with terrifying news. Her ex-husband, a convicted murderer, has escaped from prison and he's coming for her.
Miranda, who for years has harbored a secret love for the driven Chief Inspector, has no choice but to trust him. She just hopes she can guard her own heart at least as well as he guards her.
After thwarting her ex's first attack, David spirits Miranda and her young son out of England and the three of them end up on the run across Europe. David has no intention of falling in love again, but with each passing day Miranda awakens passions he thought long dead.
Could this be their forever love? With a killer on their trail, they may not live long enough to find out.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Love on the Run:
After dinner on the flagstone terrace, Randi helped Mina clear away the dishes and load the dishwasher.
“I’m glad you came back,” Mina said. “Jamie would’ve been quite all right, but I’m not sure you would have.”
Randi stopped in the middle of folding a towel. She shook her head. “No, I was a wreck. I don’t think we went ten kilometers on that bike, and I bawled like a baby the whole time.”
Mina smiled and placed her strong arm around her shoulder. “You are losing that pinched look you had when you first came to us.”
“That bad, huh?”
“Not bad, but still it was there.”
“I do feel safe here,” Randi admitted.
“You must relax because David will protect you and your son. It is very obvious to these old eyes how important the two of you are to him.”
Mina’s words gladdened Randi’s heart, but surely the older woman was exaggerating. “He’s been absolutely wonderful, but…”
“Time will tell, my dear. Be patient.” Mina removed the towel from Randi’s trembling hands. “Let’s go outside and enjoy this nice fall evening. The men shouldn’t have all the fun.”
***
On the terrace Randi eased down into a lounge chair and watched David and Jamie wrestle in the grass. A sensation of pure contentment stole over her and wrapped her in easy comfort.
She turned to Mina. “Dinner was wonderful, Mina. Thank you for having us. For everything.”
“It is my privilege. I’m so glad that David thought of us. So rarely do we have visitors from the U.K.—at least none we are so happy to see.” Mina turned to her husband. “Jean-Luc, why don’t you play some music for us?”
Randi’s ears pricked. “Music? Oh, yes, please.”
Jean-Luc grumbled, but with good nature, “She doesn’t want to talk to me, so she asks me to play. I am wise to her tricks.” The older man hauled his cumbersome self out of his chair and ambled into the house, returning a moment later with an old violin.
David turned to Randi, a wide grin spread across his handsome face. “Did you know Miranda plays?”
“Bon!” Jean-Luc declared. “You will play for us, Ran-dee?”
“Yes, but you must go first. I warn you I’m very rusty.”
Jean-Luc drew the bow across the strings, then frowned at the sound. “Just a little adjustment.” He tightened the E string and drew the bow again. “Parfait!” he pronounced, and then launched into an old folk tune which Randi immediately recognized as Sur le Pont d’Avignon.
After the rollicking tune which had young Jamie up on his feet, dancing, Jean-Luc paused and extended the violin toward Randi. “Now you must play us something from your country, s’il vous plaît.”
Randi nodded her assent and took the violin from Jean-Luc’s gnarled hands. “I’ll play you our state song.” She drew the bow across the violin, the melodic strains of The Tennessee Waltz filling the night air.
After she completed the waltz, Jean-Luc stood and clapped. “Bien, Ran-dee! C’est bon.”
“Mummy, play Rocky Top. Jean-Luc, you’ll like that one. It’s bouncy.”
Randi looked from Mina to Jean-Luc to David whose eyes were actually closed. It was the first time she’d seen the taut lines of tension erased from his lean face.
“Rocky Top, Tennessee it is,” she said with a nod, then launched into the sprightly tune. Jamie sang, charmingly off key, “Once I had a girl on Rocky Top,” then fell to humming when he didn’t know the words, but intoned, “Rocky Top, Tennessee,” during the chorus.
Randi lost herself in the energy and rhythm of the country tune, until it came to an end.
“Encore, encore!” Jean-Luc prompted.
“Something classical, dear?” Mina suggested. “I believe David told me that you play with chamber groups as well.”
“All right.” Soon the lyrical strains of the second movement of Beethoven’s Violin Concerto rose through the valley, soaring into the night. Swept up in the mood and imagery of the music, Randi became the violin, the music. When the last note faded, she heard a collective sigh of appreciation.
“That was simply lovely, dear,” Mina told her, pulling her sweater tighter around her shoulders. “Why don’t we go in? It’s getting too cool for these old bones. Besides, I think your son has fallen asleep.”
Randi nodded. “He’s been conditioned. Whenever he has trouble going to sleep, I play for him until he does.”
***
Randi tapped on David’s door. She heard sounds of his moving about through the door, then it opened. Apparently he’d been getting ready for bed. His shirt was unbuttoned and pulled out of his jeans. Her breath caught in her throat when she caught sight of his broad, muscular chest and washboard abs. She felt his arms surround her, pulling her into his strong embrace.
“You played beautifully,” he murmured in a voice so soft and seductive it sent ripples of desire to the pit of her belly.
“Thank you,” she said, as he maneuvered her into his bedroom and kicked the door shut behind him.
“It’s paid a few bills,” she quipped before she could stop herself. Lord, why was she so nervous? David would never hurt her, not physically anyway.
“Is Jamie asleep?”
“Yes, he’s all tucked in.”
“Have you come to tuck me in?”
She bit her lip and tilted her head to the side. “You’re a big boy. Do you need to be tucked in?”
“I might do.” He closed the short distance between them, his gaze never leaving her eyes. “Depends on who’s doing the tucking.”
“And would it be presumptuous to assume the who would be me?” she asked, trying to keep her tone light so he wouldn’t know how scared she really was. She was just no good at sex.
Stefan had told her so countless times.
“No, you’d be right on target.”
His lips brushed across the top on her head. “Miranda, will you stay with me tonight?”
She pulled back and looked up into his warm gray eyes and swallowed hard before answering, “Yes.”
Oh
Lord! Had she really said yes?
His lips, warm and demanding, descended against hers. Every bone in her body liquefied with the heat of his kiss. He wanted her. The reason didn’t matter. She wanted him, too.
Together they fell backward onto the bed, his hands skimming under her sweater and caressing her breasts though her bra. His kisses were hungry and demanding. She opened her mouth to his. His tongue swept into her mouth. He tasted of the strong French coffee he’d had at dinner.
One expert twist, then his hands, warm and gentle, were all over her again. The memories of their earlier bathroom tryst flooded back. Too late to stop, even if she’d wanted. And she didn’t. Her ex had never been this kind or gentle. Forcing the bad memories and fears far, far away, she gave her trust again to David.
Suddenly they both were tugging at her sweater. Over her head it went along with her bra, tossed somewhere. He rolled her nipples between his thumbs, then applied his lips and teeth, raking them ever so tenderly, teasing them into taut buds of screaming sensation. An unfamiliar heat spread down her belly and centered between her thighs.
She gasped, “Oh.” Hands shaking, she slipped his T-shirt over his head, taking care not to disturb his bandage. She gazed into his eyes and saw the passion and desire burning there. She shivered. Her fingers splayed over his chest. His flat male nipples drew into tight nubs. She kissed one, then the other.
He let out a groan and her name, soft as a sigh. He pressed against her, his rigid erection straining against the confinement of his jeans. His hands worked at the button and zipper of her jeans, easing them apart. She raised her hips, allowing him to slip her jeans and panties down over her hips.
She kicked off the jeans, giving him access. He quickly found the warmth between her legs, his caress gentle, yet urgent.
“You’re lovely,” he told her, kissing her inner thigh. Shivers ran through her, fanning the heat of her desire into a blaze.
He pulled away. “No, don’t go,” she protested as he stood.
Secret Intentions Page 26