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Freedom to Love

Page 17

by Carole Mortimer


  ‘She’d better not be,’ he said grimly. ‘You heard Fiona call her Mrs Wild because that’s who she is. She’s my mother, Katy.’

  ‘Your mother?’ she gasped. ‘But she can’t, be! She was too young to be your mother,’ she scorned.

  ‘Nevertheless she is. It’s amazing what the occasional face-lift and a visit to a health farm two or three times a year can do. My mother is fifty-seven and looks twenty years younger. She acts it too,’ he added disgustedly. ‘A couple of months ago she wanted to present me with a stepfather younger than I am. He took one look at me and ran.’

  ‘She really is your mother?’

  ‘Afraid so,’ he nodded.

  It seemed incredible. And wonderful too. Adam wasn’t married after all! ‘She’s very beautiful,’ Katy said dazedly.

  ‘Yes. Actually I see her as little as possible. It just so happens she’s arranging a dinner party for me, a dinner party at which I need her presence.’

  ‘Yes, I heard her say she was.’ Katy was still dazed, hardly able to take it in.

  ‘For you and your parents,’ he informed her softly.

  She raised startled eyes, unable to read much from his expression in the flickering firelight, the rest of the room in darkness. ‘For us?’ she frowned. ‘But why?’

  ‘So we can all get to know one another.’

  ‘Why?’

  Adam moved restlessly, almost reluctant to answer her. ’It seems the logical thing to do,’ he told her gruffly.

  Her heart leapt hopefully. ‘Adam…’

  ‘It wasn’t supposed to work out this way,’ he growled, staring morosely down into the fire. ‘I was supposed to walk away from you as I have every other woman.’

  ‘But you did,’ she reminded him softly.

  ‘Did I?’ He turned to look at her, his expression savage. ‘Then why am I here? Why have I bought this house?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ But she was hoping—oh, how she was hoping!

  ‘I do,’ Adam snapped. ‘God, I thought I was so clever, so immune to women, using them and then discarding them at will. Then you came along with your tranquil grey eyes and taunting smile, with a habit of getting into every awkward situation going. Oh, I walked away from you, but I soon came back, and this time I wasn’t walking, I was running.’

  Katy’s hope increased; she was hardly able to believe what he was telling her. ‘When did you get back from Canada?’ she asked.

  ‘A few days after you.’

  ‘But I thought you were staying on for the skiing?’

  He scowled. ‘I came back to look for a house.’

  ‘This house.’ She looked about her appreciatively.

  ‘Do you like it?’

  ‘I always have. I used to visit Lady Carstairs before she died. She was a wonderful old lady. I’m sure she would approve of the way you’ve furnished the Manor.’

  ‘Do you approve?’

  ‘I hardly think—’

  ‘Do you?’ he repeated harshly.

  ‘I love it,’ she told him shyly.

  ‘Thank God for that,’ he sighed. ‘I bought this place for you. It seemed the sort of house you would like, and it’s near your family.’ He drew a deep breath. ‘I bought the house, had the decorators fitting it out as I wanted, then I was going to move in and court you in the usual way. When you came to see me yesterday I began to hope the latter wouldn’t be necessary, and that the love. I’d told you to forget was still very much alive.’ His look was rueful. ‘I’ve never courted anyone, I’m not even sure I’d know where to start. Why did you come to see me, Katy?’

  ‘I told you,’ she was still unsure of him, no words of love had been mentioned by him, ‘I was in London shopping.’

  ‘And you didn’t buy a damn thing, your father told me.’

  ‘Oh!’ Colour stained her cheeks and she avoided his eyes.

  Adam left the side of the fire to slowly walk over to her, pulling her to her feet and into his arms. ‘Why did you come to London?’ he murmured into the hair at her temple. ‘The real reason.’

  ‘Gemma said—’ she had trouble thinking straight with his lips caressing her in this way, ‘she said you deliberately kept me with you in Canada.’

  ‘Ah,’ he nodded. ‘She got round to telling you that, did she? And that brought you up to London?’

  ‘I—I just wanted to ask you why you did it.’

  ‘I would have thought that was obvious,’ Adam gave a husky laugh. ‘I’d already tried to get you into bed with me once, it must have been apparent that I wanted to sleep with you.’

  ‘In that case, why didn’t you?’

  Adam gave a deep sigh. ‘Because I couldn’t treat you like just another of my women. Even then I knew you meant something special to me. I couldn’t photograph you because I didn’t want other men looking at you, ogling what I wanted. I—I love you, Katy.’

  ‘Adam!’ She looked up at him, her eyes glowing. ‘Do you really mean that?’

  ‘I mean it,’ he said huskily, gently touching the silkiness of her long hair. ‘I think I must have known it from the beginning, even on the plane. I thought I was glad to see the back of you, and yet when I accidentally chose to eat at the same hotel in Calgary that you were staying at I jumped at the chance of seeing you again. From that night on, after I’d kissed you, touched you, I was lost. You seemed to be haunting me. I decided to ask you to join me, get you out of my system. You turned me down, but when you turned up later that night I thought you were just like every other woman I knew, a token resistance and then the coy acceptance. When you made it clear it was a genuine mistake I knew I had to keep you with me anyway.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I’m not sure, maybe I wanted to try and prove you were like all the rest. But you weren’t, and never have been. You once wanted to tell me how you feel about me and I stopped you, told you to go to Andrew. But you didn’t, did you?’

  ‘No,’ she said huskily.

  ‘Thank God! Tell me now, Katy,’ he pleaded, ‘do you love me?’

  ‘So much!’ There were tears in her eyes. ‘So very much. But I never thought you—’

  ‘I’m a cynical bastard,’ Adam crushed her to him, ‘but I knew as soon as I’d left you that I was in love with you. Hell, I knew before that. God, if you knew how I felt when you told me you’d been wandering around on your own at night. I could imagine you ripped to pieces by some grizzly, and I knew I wanted to protect you. That’s something I’ve never experienced before either. I blew my top that day you put that ring on your finger, because it had been so much on my mind to do just that that I thought you might have guessed just how deep I was getting. I was terrified of you finding out, was determined not to let you know I loved you. I was deliberately cruel to you.’

  ‘I know.’

  He gave her a hard kiss on the lips. ‘I’m sorry, darling. I stayed in Canada fighting my feelings for a few days, until Jud persuaded me I was doing no one any favours by being away from you, that I could even lose you. I came home, found out where you lived, bought this house, and was about to start my plan of action when Fiona told me you’d been to see me. From that moment on I thought of nothing but getting down here to see you. Will you marry me, Katy?’

  ‘Marry you…?’ she repeated dazedly. ‘You mean marriage?’

  ‘Your grandmother assured me she wouldn’t stand for anything less,’ he teased.

  ‘You told her?’

  He nodded. ‘And your parents. They approve, all of them. Do you?’

  ‘Oh, Adam!’ Katy threw her arms about his throat. ‘I love you so much!’

  ‘Oh God, Katy,’ he groaned into her hair, ‘I need you—how I need you! I’m sick of just imagining you there in bed beside me so that I can sleep. I want the real you beside me, and I want that until the day I die. I want the gentleness of you, the fierceness of you, I just need you, Katy darling. Will you be my wife?’

  ‘But you want to be free. You said you did.’

  ‘With you I wi
ll be free—free to love you, free to desire you, free to possess you.’ His voice had lowered huskily. ‘Marry me?’

  ‘Oh yes, yes!’ She began kissing him and couldn’t stop, both of them swept away on a tide of desire that was at last allowed its own freedom.

  * * *

  After two months of marriage Katy didn’t regret a moment of the time she had been Adam’s wife, knowing that their love had deepened and strengthened.

  Adam was in the shower now, the two of them having just returned from having dinner with her family. He came through from the bathroom, towelling his hair dry, but otherwise naked, the wonder of his body stirring her to passion as it usually did.

  ‘What were you and your father whispering about tonight?’ he asked, watching her as she brushed her hair.

  Katy slowly turned to face him. ‘We weren’t whispering,’ she evaded.

  Adam’s gaze sharpened. ‘Secrets, Katy?’

  ‘No, not really,’ she said jerkily. ‘At least, it won’t be a secret much longer.’

  He frowned. ‘Are you going to tell me?’

  She gave a choked laugh. ‘I think I should. How would you feel about—about becoming a father?’ She watched him anxiously.

  His startled gaze ran down the slender length of her body. ‘You mean—’

  ‘Yes,’ she confirmed shakily, ‘I’m having your baby, Adam.’

  ‘I knew there was something different about you,’ he said slowly.

  ‘Different?’ Katy echoed sharply, remembering Adam’s opinion of pregnant women. It was too soon, too soon, and she would lose him when she became huge and grotesque.

  ‘God, I should have realised,’ he murmured almost to himself.

  ‘Realised what?’ she asked almost shrilly.

  ‘That you’re more beautiful than ever,’ he told her huskily, his eyes adoring. ‘You’re right, Katy, pregnant women are beautiful.’

  ‘Oh, Adam,’ she choked, ‘I’m so glad you said that!’ She returned the passion of his kiss. ‘Your mother will be furious at being made a grandmother.’

  ‘Damn my mother! I love the idea of being a father,’ he murmured against her throat.

  ‘There is just one thing, Adam,’ she played with the silky hair on his chest.

  He looked down at her anxiously. ‘There’s nothing wrong, is there, with you or the baby?’

  ‘No,’ she laughed.

  ‘Then what is it?’ His lips probed the hollows of her throat.

  ‘I—er—I appear to be three months pregnant.’

  ‘Three? But—The night I asked you to marry me!’ Adam gave a husky laugh.

  ‘It would seem so,’ she admitted shyly. ‘My biggest accident of all,’ she groaned.

  He swung her up into his arms. ‘Our baby isn’t an accident. You gave me complete pleasure from the first, you’re the woman I thought never existed, the woman who’s entertaining out of bed as well as in it. I’m glad our baby was conceived that night, Katy, really glad.’

  ‘So am I.’ She gazed up at the man she loved, would always love, and who would always love her, the man who understood her, who cherished her and cared for her. This was freedom.

  * * * * *

  Now, read on for a tantalizing excerpt of USA Today bestselling author

  Sharon Kendrick’s new release,

  THE SHEIKH’S BOUGHT WIFE

  Marry for money? Jane Smith would normally laugh in Sheikh Zayed’s handsome face—but her sister’s debts need paying. Zayed must marry to inherit his land—and plain Jane is a convenient choice. But he hasn’t bargained on Jane’s delicious curves…

  Read on to get a glimpse of

  THE SHEIKH’S BOUGHT WIFE

  PROLOGUE

  ‘SO WHAT’S THE catch?’

  Zayed detected the faint ripple of unease which ran through his advisors as he shot out his silky question. They were nervous, he could tell. More nervous than was usual in the presence of a sheikh of his power and influence. Not that he cared about their nerves. On the contrary, he found them useful. Deference and fear kept people at a distance and that was exactly where he liked them.

  Turning away from the window which overlooked his magnificent palace gardens, he studied the men who stood in front of him—the guileless expression on the face of his closest aide, Hassan, not fooling him for a moment.

  ‘Catch, Your Most Supreme Highness?’ questioned Hassan.

  ‘Yes, catch,’ Zayed echoed, his voice growing impatient now. ‘My maternal grandfather has died and I discover he has gifted me one of the most valuable pieces of land in the entire desert region. Inheriting Dahabi Makaan was something which never even entered my mind.’ He frowned. ‘Which leaves me wondering what has prompted this gesture of unexpected generosity.’

  Hassan gave a slight bow. ‘Because you are one of his few remaining blood relatives, sire, and thus surely such a bequest is perfectly natural.’

  ‘That much may be true,’ Zayed conceded. ‘But until recently he had not spoken to me since I was a boy of seven summers.’

  ‘Your grandfather was undoubtedly touched by your visit as he lay on his deathbed—a visit he must surely not have been anticipating,’ said Hassan diplomatically. ‘Perhaps that is the reason.’

  Zayed’s jaw tightened. Perhaps it was. But the visit had not been inspired by love, since love had long departed from his heart. He had gone because duty had demanded it and Zayed never shirked from duty. He had gone despite the fierce pain it had caused him to do so. And yes, it had been a strange sensation to look upon the ravaged face of the old king, who had cut off his only daughter after her marriage to Zayed’s father. But death was the great equaliser, he remembered thinking bitterly as the gnarled old fingers had clutched at his. The stealthy foe from which no man or woman could ever escape. He had made his peace with his dying grandfather because he suspected it would have pleased his mother for him to do so, not because he’d been seeking some kind of financial reward.

  ‘Nobody gives something for nothing in this world, but perhaps this is an exception.’ Zayed’s eyes bored questioningly into those of his aide. ‘Are you telling me that the land is to be mine, without condition?’

  Hassan hesitated and the pause which followed sounded heavy. Ominous. ‘Not quite.’

  Zayed nodded. So his unerring instinct had not failed him after all! ‘You mean there is a catch,’ he said triumphantly.

  Hassan nodded. ‘I suspect that you will see it as one, sire—for in order to inherit Dahabi Makaan, you need to be…’ nervously, he licked his lips ‘…married.’

  ‘Married?’ echoed Zayed, his voice deepening with a dangerous note, which made the aides shoot glances of increasing anxiety at each other.

  ‘Yes, sire.’

  ‘You know my feelings about marriage.’

  ‘Indeed, sire.’

  ‘But just so there can be no misunderstanding, I will reiterate them for you. I have no desire to marry—at least, not for many years. Why tie yourself to one woman when you can enjoy twenty?’ Zayed gave a fleeting smile as he remembered visiting his mistress in New York last week and the sight of her lying on rumpled satin sheets clad in nothing but a tight black basque, her milky thighs open and welcoming. He cleared his throat and willed the hardening in his groin to subside. ‘I accept that one day I will need to provide my kingdom with an heir and that is the moment when I shall take a bride—a pure young virgin from my own kingdom. A moment which will not come for many decades, for a man can procreate until he is sixty, seventy—in some cases, even eighty. And since I believe it is the modern way for young women to enjoy all the expertise of an older lover, it will be a highly satisfactory arrangement for both participants.’

  Hassan nodded. ‘I understand your reasoning entirely, sire, and usually I would completely concur with your judgment. But this land is priceless. It is oil-rich and of huge strategic significance. Think how much it could benefit your people if it were to be yours.’

  Zayed felt indignation heat his blood.
Didn’t he spend almost all his waking hours thinking about his people and how to do his best by them? Was he not the most successful of all the desert Sheikhs because of his dedication to his land and his determination to be a peacekeeper? And yet Hassan’s words were true. Dahabi Makaan would undoubtedly be a glittering jewel in the crown of his kingdom. Could he really turn his back on such a proposition? His mouth flattened. He remembered his dying grandfather croaking out a plea for him not to leave it too long to produce an heir, so that their bloodline could continue. And when Zayed had coolly remarked that he had no intention of marrying for many years, the old man’s face had crumpled. Had the wily old king decided that the only way to achieve his heart’s desire was to force the issue, by making marriage a condition of the inheritance?

  Yet the thought of marriage made Zayed want to recoil. To turn away from its insidious tentacles, which could bind a man in so many ways. He loathed marriage for more reasons than a high libido which demanded variety. He loathed the institution of marriage with all its flaws and baseless promises and the very idea of finding a bride in order to inherit was something which repulsed every fibre of his being.

  Unless…

  His mind began to pick over the possibilities—because wouldn’t only a fool turn down the chance to be master of a region renowned for the black gold known as oil, as well as its prized position straddling four desert countries?

  ‘Perhaps there is a way in which the conditions of the will could be met,’ he said slowly, ‘and yet not tie me into all the tedium and inconvenience of a long-term marriage.’

  ‘You know of such a way, sire?’ questioned Hassan. ‘Pray, enlighten us, Oh, knowledgeable one.’

  ‘If the marriage were not to be consummated,’ Zayed continued thoughtfully, ‘then it would not be legal and, as such, could quickly be dissolved. Is that not so?’

  ‘But, sire—’

  ‘No buts,’ said Zayed impatiently. ‘For the idea grows on me with every second which passes.’ Yet he could see the look of doubt on his aide’s face and knew very well what had caused it. Because Zayed was a man known for his virility. A man who needed the regular release of sex in order to sustain him—in the same way that a horse needed oats and exercise in order to live. He doubted there was a woman alive who could resist him in her bed and the idea that he could tolerate a sexless marriage was almost laughable. Yes, there were undeniably obstacles to such a chaste union but Zayed was a man who thrived on overcoming obstacles, and as he stared into Hassan’s perplexed face a brilliant idea began to form in his mind.

 

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