by Gaelen Foley
“Edie, my darling child! I’m here!” Waving frantically, her father came running across the decks to her.
Jack let her go and stood at a respectful distance while she ran into her father’s arms.
She laughed with tears in her eyes. “Papa!”
The two bedraggled Farradays held each other tightly.
“Oh, Papa, I’m so sorry for all I put you through.”
“No, my darling. You were right to go. I broke my promise and I’ve been a fool! I should have listened to you better, about so many things.” He caught her lovely face between his hands and kissed her forehead. “My brave girl. You make me so proud, Edie. Don’t be sorry one jot. You had a dream for your life and you had the courage to pursue it, my darling.”
She hugged him again. “Well, I found my dream, Papa,” she said after a long moment, wiping away a tear. She turned and pointed to Jack. “He’s standing right over there.”
Jack gazed at her with eyes that glowed as blue as the St. Elmo’s fire, and a heart ablaze with love so fierce and tender.
“He doesn’t dance,” she said softly, “but I can live with that.”
Holding her stare, he spoke up barely audibly: “I could learn.”
EPILOGUE
Jamaica, a year later
The elegant white-stuccoed villa sat on a sun-drenched cliff overlooking the sea. The lush tropical hillside below it plunged down to white powder beaches, turquoise waters, and the whispering surf.
It was the hour of siesta, and Eden sat on a wicker chair on the red-tiled terrace, writing a letter to Cousin Amelia.
Your mother is quite right, you’ll forget all about the pain once you hold your child in your arms. Besides, you have your dear, gallant Trahern by your side, and I thoroughly trust that he’ll take wonderful care of you both.
The cries of seagulls carried to her on the breeze, but she paid no mind to the tiny green lizard that darted along the curve of the wall. Above the terrace, palm trees waved against the azure sky, while all around her graceful mounds of red bougainvillea and delicate frangipani rustled in the ocean breezes.
Grandpa—by which of course I mean Papa—has made a most interesting acquaintance recently. Cousin, I think there may be romance in the air. Miss Jane Rossiter is a local spinster lady with distinct bluestocking leanings and a great interest in Papa’s work. Why, just last week, he could not come to see us because he was escorting her to the theater! Is that not civilized of him? Wonders never cease.
Well, now you have my gossip, so don’t deprive me of yours. What’s this I hear about the Knights of India being seen about Town of late, and Miss (Georgie) Knight bringing the great Lord Griffith to heel? Do send whatever intelligence you may unearth, dear cousin.
But I am not all idle gossip today. There is serious business to report, as well, not the least of which was the Liberator’s establishment only two months ago of the Congress of Angostura.
Indeed, the war seems to have turned a corner. There have been some victories over the past few months, and it would seem we have reason to be proud of our husbands. The Englishmen who came over to fight are helping Bolivar turn the tide against the Spanish Crown. Jack thinks that in another year or two, Venezuela will be free.
She paused in thought, watching white sails travel along the distant horizon for a moment. A smile played about her lips. Then she dipped her quill pen in the ink one last time.
Well, my dearest cousin, that is all the news that I can think of at the moment. We are all fine here, no, I should say we are ridiculously happy, and cannot wait to see you both in London next spring. When little Johnny gets a wee bit older, we intend to live half the year here in the tropics and the other half in London so we can be near you and all our family. (Don’t tell Jack, but I am becoming entirely spoiled.) As always, thanks for sending the magazines. With all my love, Eden.
As she signed off and put her writing things away inside the portable lap desk, the massive diamond on her finger caught the sunlight and broke it into a twinkling rainbow. Her mood was relaxed and contemplative as she rose and drifted back inside.
She walked slowly through the house, reveling in its easy tropical luxury, until she came to the morning room and found her handsome husband sprawled out on the couch, his arm draped protectively over their five-month-old son.
Her lion and his cub. Little Johnny was fast asleep on his doting papa’s chest.
Eden’s heart clenched with tender adoration. She leaned in the wide, rounded doorway and folded her arms across her waist, gazing at them with quiet joy beaming from her eyes. Curled below the pair, Rudy thumped the floor with his tail in greeting, but Eden lifted her finger to her lips and hushed the dog before he woke the baby.
Jack, however, must have sensed her presence. He stirred, though not enough to disturb their son’s slumber. He turned his head to face her as his aqua-blue eyes swept open.
He smiled at her in drowsy contentment, so much love in his deep, serene gaze.
Love, and gratitude—and a wicked glint of a promise in his eyes of something a bit naughtier for later tonight.
Eden blew him a kiss and smiled back.
She could hardly wait.
Author’s Note
Dear Reader,
Thus ends the seven-book saga of the Knight family…sort of.
Many of you have written to your humble author entreating me not to let this series end, for which I thank you. It’s a real privilege to be able to create a wonderful fictional world that other people can dive into and share with me and with each other.
At any rate: The prospect of turning off the lights for the last time in the Knight family’s world was just too sad. A lot of my readers and I, as well, just didn’t feel like it was time yet to let them go.
So I put on my thinking cap and set myself a new challenge: Discovering an organic and satisfying way to branch out from the Knight Miscellany while keeping it all in the family—the Knight family. It wasn’t long before my imagination located the London Knights’ colorful cousins, an intriguing branch of the ducal family that had split off into India during the glittering era of the Raj.
Not only does this promise two more magnificent Knight men, Gabriel and Derek Knight, but in addition, their sister, Georgie, is a special gift to my readers.
So many people have asked if I’ll ever write a novel starring Georgiana Knight, the Duchess of Hawkscliffe, who produced her varied brood with her different lovers. The answer to that is an honest no. My most deeply held values, feelings, and beliefs drive my writing, and I would be unable to cast the feckless Georgiana as a heroine.
In the character of her beautiful niece, however, Miss Georgie Knight—soon to arrive in London after nearly setting off a minor war in India—the scandalous Duchess, in a sense, gets a clean slate. Georgie has all the spunk, adventure, heart, and sensuality that readers responded to in the Duchess, without having made all of her hurtful mistakes.
I am very much looking forward to writing the cousins’ books, which for now we are calling The Spice Trilogy.
As always, thank you, dear reader, for allowing me to entertain you.
By Gaelen Foley
Published by Ballantine Books
THE PIRATE PRINCE PRINCESS
PRINCE CHARMING THE DUKE
LORD OF FIRE
LORD OF ICE
LADY OF DESIRE
DEVIL TAKES A BRIDE
ONE NIGHT OF SIN
HIS WICKED KISS
Praise for One Night of Sin
“Pure perfection.”
—The Historical Romance Club
“An absolutely fabulous romance! Don’t start this tale late in the day, or you’ll be up all night finishing it.”
—FreshFiction.com
“A compelling romance.”
—TheBestReviews.com
“A wonderful historical novel that takes readers on an adventure they will never forget…sure to be a favorite among readers.”
—
RomanceJunkies.com
Praise for Devil Takes a Bride
“With its wonderfully complicated, unforgettable characters, sharp wit, and a riveting plot rife with menacing danger and sizzling passion, Foley’s latest Knight Miscellany historical Regency is simply superb.”
—Booklist
“A truly sensual romance, possessing depth of plot and character.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Complex and engaging characters…Intense emotions and great depth of poignancy enthrall from beginning to end.”
—Romantic Times Top Pick, ½, winner of the KISS Hero Award
His Wicked Kiss is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
A Ballantine Books Mass Market Original
Copyright © 2006 by Gaelen Foley
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Ballantine Books, an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
BALLANTINE BOOKS and colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.
www.ballantinebooks.com
eISBN: 978-0-345-49353-8
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