by Dani Wade
He drew a deep breath. Then he closed his eyes for a long second. He reached out and gently smoothed her hair back from her forehead. “You’re not.”
His hand stayed there, resting against her hair. Her nerves tingled where he touched. Her body begged her to sway forward against him, even as her mind ordered her to hold still.
She couldn’t trust him. She didn’t trust him. Oh, my, how she wanted to trust him.
He stroked his way to her cheek, cupping her face, tilting his head at an angle she’d come to recognize, to love.
He was going to kiss her, just like he’d done a hundred times, maybe a thousand. His lips dipped closer, and she moistened her own. She inhaled his scent, and her body relaxed into the exquisite moment.
“You’re not supposed to hate me,” he repeated on a whisper. “You’re supposed to love me.”
Then, he paused with his lips just barely brushing hers. “Because I love you, Katie. I love you so much.”
His mouth captured hers, sending joy cascading through her body. His kiss was deep, sweet and long. His arms wrapped fully around her, hauling her close, pulling her safely into the circle of his embrace.
She clung to him, molding against him, passion and joy making her feel weightless.
After long minutes, he finally drew back. “Renovate anything you want,” he rasped. “I’ll sell half the damn fleet if I have to. Just don’t leave me again. Not ever.”
“I gave up the new design,” she told him.
He drew back. “What? Why?”
“Sadie wouldn’t like it.”
Zach stilled. “Sadie doesn’t matter. The past doesn’t matter. Only the future, Kaitlin. And you’re the future. You’re my future.”
Kaitlin’s heart soared at the thought of a future with Zach—such a loving, thoughtful man.
Her voice quavered as she spoke. “You found my grandparents.”
“I did,” he acknowledged. “I know they were buried in New Jersey.”
“You know where they’re buried?”
“Yes.”
Twin tears rolled from Kaitlin’s eyes at that. “Have I mentioned that I love you?”
“No.” He shook his head. “You hadn’t. And I was getting worried.”
“Well, I do.”
“Thank goodness.” He drew a deep breath, tightening his arms around her. “I told Dylan to give me an hour. Otherwise, you were getting kidnapped, too.”
“You would not.”
“Hell, yes, I would. One way or another, you and I are starting on a whole new generation of Harper pirates.”
Kaitlin smiled at his joke, her body sighing in contentment. “Sadie would be pleased.”
“Yes, she would,” Zach agreed. “She’d also be gloating over the success of her scheme. In fact, I can almost hear her chuckling from here.”
Kaitlin moved her hand to take another look at the picture of her grandparents. Her grandfather was tall. Her grandmother slightly rounded with light, curly hair. And her mother looked bright-eyed and happy with a shovel and pail in her hands. “I can’t believe you did this.”
“We can go visit their graves.” He paused. “I swapped Dylan the yacht for a helicopter. It’s standing by.”
Kaitlin was overwhelmed by this thoughtfulness. But she wasn’t anywhere near ready to leave his arms.
She molded her body to his. “Or maybe we could go in an hour or so?”
He sucked in a breath, lifting the picture from her hand and setting it safely on an end table. Then his eyes darkened, and he bent forward to kiss her thoroughly.
“Maybe in an hour or so,” he agreed and scooped her up to head for her bedroom.
Epilogue
Following a month-long kidnapping, Lindsay and Dylan’s wedding was held on Serenity Island, on the emerald-green lawn at the Gilby house, next to the pool. The bride was radiant, the groom ecstatic and the guests a who’s who of New York City. According to Ginny, it was the biggest party the island had held since the heyday of the 1940s.
Dylan had insisted on flying the Jolly Roger, while Ginny confided gleefully to Kaitlin that since the wedding was so rushed, she wondered if Lindsay might be pregnant.
After the toasts were made, the five-tiered cake was cut and the dancing had started in the late afternoon, Zach drew Kaitlin to one side.
“There’s something I need to show you,” he told her quietly, tugging her inside the house and down the hallway toward the garage.
“We can’t leave now,” she protested, trotting on her high heels, the glossy, champagne-colored bridesmaid dress flowing around her knees.
“We’ll be back in a few minutes,” he assured her, opening the garage door.
“Zach,” she protested.
“What?”
“Are you crazy?”
He turned and playfully kissed the tip of her nose. “Crazy for you.”
“This isn’t a joke.” She tried to sound stern, but she didn’t seem capable of getting angry with him. Since the afternoon in her apartment, and their helicopter trip to the cemetery to put roses on her grandparents’ graves, she’d been almost giddy with love.
He braced his hand against the passenger side of a golf cart. “And I’m not laughing. Hop in.”
“I will not hop in.” She crossed her arms stubbornly over her chest. She wasn’t abandoning Lindsay on her wedding day.
“Have it your way.” He gently but firmly deposited her on the narrow bench seat.
“Hey!” She scrambled to get her dress organized around herself.
“There’s something I really have to show you.” He jumped into the driver’s side and turned on the key.
Before she could escape, the cart pulled smoothly out of the garage onto the gravel driveway and the road that led down to the castle.
“I can’t believe you’re kidnapping me,” she harrumphed.
“It is the pirate way.”
“You are not allowed to ravish me in the middle of a wedding reception.” She smoothed her dress over her knees and put her nose primly in the air.
Zach gave her a wolfish grin, and she was forced to wonder which one of them would prevail if push came to shove, and he did decide he wanted to ravish her.
They drove all the way down to the Harper property.
As they entered the castle gardens, she felt herself relax. This had quickly become one of her favorite places in the world. It was filled with such history and such happy memories.
Zach pulled to a halt in front of the family chapel, then he hopped out and came around to assist her.
She shook her head in confusion as she clambered around the awkward dress. It was made for fashion, not mobility. The bodice was tight, coming to a drop waist, while the satin skirt billowed out with crinolines, ending at knee length. “This is what you wanted to show me?” She’d been in the gardens a thousand times.
“Have patience,” he told her.
“I’ll have patience after the reception. Seriously, Zach. We have to get back.”
But he led her by the hand to the bottom of the chapel steps.
“What are we doing?” she breathed in frustration.
A secretive smile growing on his lips, he reached into his tux jacket pocket and drew something out, holding his palm flat so that she could focus on a small heirloom ring.
It was a delicately swirled gold band, with a sapphire center, flanked by diamonds.
“I don’t know how old it is,” said Zach. “But I think it might have belonged to Lyndall.”
“Stolen?” Kaitlin asked, glancing up.
“Let’s assume not.” Zach’s silver eyes sparkled. He held her hand in his, stepping forward, voice going soft. “Will you marry, Katie?”
She was still confused. “I am. I did.”
“I know.” He smiled. “But I don’t think we got it quite right the first time.” Then he nodded to the old chapel. “It’s traditional for Harper brides to be married right here.”
Kaitlin understood, and h
er chest tightened with emotion. “You want to…”
“Absolutely. Marry me, Kaitlin. Do it here. Do it now. Love me when you say the vows, and promise my family you’ll stay with me forever.”
She blinked back the sting of tears. “Oh, Zach.”
The ancient door swung open with a groan, and a preacher appeared in the doorway.
“This way,” he told them softly, turning, robes rustling as he made his way to the front of the ancient church.
Zach squeezed her hand as they mounted the steps, leading her over the uneven stone floor, past worn wooden pews, to the altar that Lyndall had built for his own wedding, the very first wedding on the island.
Kaitlin swayed sideways against Zach, absorbing the feel of his strong body.
Footsteps sounded behind them, and she glanced back to see Lindsay and Dylan, still dressed for their own wedding.
“Oh, no,” she moaned under her breath.
“They insisted,” Zach whispered, tucking her arm into the crook of his.
As they stopped at the front of the church, one of the staff members stepped out and handed Kaitlin a bouquet.
White roses.
From Sadie’s garden.
It was beyond perfect, and Kaitlin had to blink against the sting of tears.
Lindsay and Dylan took their places, and Zach wrapped an arm around Kaitlin, gathering her close for a private word. “I love you very much, Katie,” he whispered.
“And I love you,” she whispered back, feeling as though her heart might burst wide open.
His tone went husky as he tenderly stroked her cheek, wiping her tears with the pad of his thumb. “Then, let’s take our vows and put this ring on your finger.”
Secret Baby, Public Affair
Yvonne Lindsay
To my Mum and my (late) Dad,
thank you both for always letting me pursue
my imagination, my dreams and my goals
and for always encouraging me to believe
I could achieve or be whatever I wanted.
One
“You were comfort sex. Nothing more.”
At least that was all she’d ever let him be. Blair maintained eye contact with Draco Sandrelli and prayed he’d leave before she did something stupid—like faint or throw up all over his highly polished handmade boots. Her stomach, which had been unsettled since breakfast, clenched in a completely different way as he flashed a smile at her, the one he’d used just before they’d tumbled into bed together for the first time.
“Cara mia, you know I am so much more than that.”
His voice dripped sensuality, its sound sending a shimmer of heat through her. She still woke in the night remembering the sound of him, as rich as the rolling timbre of distant thunder on an electrically charged, storm-tossed evening. And worse, remembering the feel of him, the sensation of his body against hers—inside hers. She fought back the small sound that rose in her throat—a sound driven by the heat that suffused her body and insinuated itself along her nerve endings in curling tendrils of desire.
The gold flecks in Draco’s green eyes glinted as he watched her reaction. For someone she’d barely met, he seemed able to read her like a book. A tiny smile played around the sensual curve of his lips. He hadn’t even forgone his usual designer stubble for today’s memorial service, although he’d slicked back his glossy dark hair off his almost too perfect face, its length finishing in a ducktail at his nape. On any other man the style would look ridiculous, but on Draco…Blair swallowed against the sudden dryness in her mouth.
Really, for a man he was too beautiful to be classed as handsome, but despite her reasoning her pulse still raced to a tribal beat.
“Have dinner with me tonight,” he coaxed.
“No. No way. I mean it, Draco. Call what we had a holiday fling, whatever. It’s not happening again. I’m home now and back at work. Which reminds me, I have things to attend to and I’m sure you do too.”
No matter what, she wasn’t going to ask him what he was doing here. After all, what were the odds that her un-characteristic holiday indulgence would turn up at Ashurst Collegiate today? Especially at the memorial reception she’d agreed to do as a favor for one of her dad’s oldest friends. As tempting as it was to indulge in another forbidden delight with the sole heir to the Sandrelli empire, Blair had more important things on her mind.
She summoned every ounce of self-control in her arsenal and, tipping her nose ever so slightly in the air, spun on her heel and stalked away.
She sensed, rather than heard, the moment he decided to follow her—the fine hairs on the back of her neck prickling to attention. Blair increased her pace, turned a corner in the corridor and slipped through the doorway leading into the voluminous kitchen off Jubilee Hall, where the reception was being held. She flattened herself against the wall and fought to control her hammering heartbeat, hoping like mad he hadn’t seen her duck in here.
Even her hands were trembling, she realized. She hadn’t been this upset since she’d caught her fiancé, Rhys, and her best friend, Alicia, in the wine cellar of the converted villa that housed Carson’s, her restaurant. The pain of losing the man she’d planned her future with to the friend who was supposed to have stood beside her in the church only a few days later had been unspeakable. Their joint betrayal still stung with the sharpness of a stingray’s barb.
It was what had led her to her flight to Italy and tour of Tuscany, and ultimately to Draco Sandrelli, where she’d promptly fallen under his seductive spell.
Yes, he was comfort sex all right. Totally addictive, mind-blowingly generous comfort sex. And just what she’d needed to rebuild her flagging self-esteem. Nothing more.
She shoved herself off the wall and carried on through the kitchen, mentally checking off what she needed to do before returning to Carson’s and preparing for her night’s clientele. She was relieved to see her personal tools of the trade had been neatly packed back into the case she’d brought them in—a quick check ensured everything was where it should be. There was nothing further for her to do. The casual crew she’d hired to work the reception would complete the cleanup and return the crockery to the restaurant in a couple of hours’ time.
Blair smoothed her hands over her uniform, the tailored, crisp short-sleeved white blouse and black skirt which neatly hugged her slim hips, drawing strength from the familiarity of its texture.
She hitched the box against her hip and carried it through the kitchen to the back door and walked around on the graveled drive to where she’d parked her station wagon. She eyed the paint work on her old workhorse with a critical eye. If she hadn’t taken the trip to Tuscany she could have replaced old Gertie here with a new vehicle. But if she’d done that she would have remained a victim to Rhys and Alicia’s perfidy, instead of learning more about the woman she could be. About the woman she had been.
And it had been that very discovery that had taught Blair she couldn’t have it all. She wasn’t the kind of person who could develop an award-winning business and be a devoted life partner to anyone. No. She was happy with her decision. Work would be her life for now. And as for Draco, well, everyone was entitled to a “Draco” in their life at one time or another, she rationalized. The intensity of their affair had burned so bright and fierce, it would have totally consumed her had she stayed any longer with him. That one certain truth had made her put everything into perspective. She’d seen it happen to her father over and over, each time destroying his inner self a little more, and she’d sworn she would never succumb to such obsession.
Her wake-up call had come one morning as she’d stirred in Draco’s arms, their sheets in a tangle about their naked, sated bodies, and she realized that she hadn’t so much as thought about Carson’s in three whole days. The realization was sobering. She’d embraced her affair with Draco with the level of passion she usually reserved solely for her work.
No, there definitely wasn’t room for both a grand love and a career in her life. Her
work was everything. Its success was what defined her, not something as ephemeral as physical attraction between consenting adults.
Blair had risen from their bed and packed immediately, turning a deaf ear to Draco’s enticement to stay longer. As sinfully delightful as her time with Draco had been, it wasn’t the kind of temptation one could build a future on. There was no security in incendiary attraction. She knew that from both her father’s painful past and her own.
There was only one thing she wanted right now, and that was to see Carson’s make the five-star review page of Fine Dining magazine. It had been her father’s dream, until ill health had forced him to hand the reins of the restaurant over to Blair as he reluctantly settled into early retirement. Now it was her dream. One she thought she’d achieve with Rhys and Alicia by her side. But she could do it on her own. Carson’s would become Auckland’s leading restaurant. And she’d forget all about Draco Sandrelli.
Draco hesitated outside the door to the kitchen. He’d prowled the corridor in frustration, after finding no sign of Blair. She had to be in here. Unconsciously, he straightened his shoulders. They needed to talk and he wasn’t taking no for an answer. When Blair had left his bed that morning he had been prepared to move mountains to get her to stay. It had only been the urgent call to his parents’ home, situated a few kilometers away within the Sandrelli estate, that had stopped him. Of course, by the time he’d returned from his father’s sickbed, Blair had left the palazzo, leaving no forwarding address.
Seeing her here today had taken him by surprise, but he wasn’t the kind of man who looked a gift horse in the mouth. This was a second chance. The magnetism between them had been instant, and he knew better than most that that kind of draw did not happen between couples every lifetime. Too many people settled for what was expected of them—for second best. He’d done that very thing once, out of honor and respect for his family and his dead brother, but the result had been catastrophic. He would not do that again.