Not trusting her voice, Callie nodded.
William reached out and clasped her hands. “They meant that you and I are supposed to be together. Supposed to sit under that willow tree with our baby. And the only way that could happen was for me to stop being a complete arse. You offered me everything I’ve ever wanted, yet I pushed it away with both hands. I thought I was being noble and doing what was best for you, but I was wrong. I can only conclude that I must have suffered a blow to the head at some point in my past to have acted so… ”
“Arse-like?” she supplied helpfully when he seemed at a loss.
A quick laugh escaped him. “Precisely. My only other excuse is that my wits had just been completely addled.” He raised their joined hands and pressed a kiss to backs of her fingers. “By the most exquisite, perfect girl in the world.”
Joy soared through Callie. Still, she felt it only fair to say, “I’m not perfect, William.”
“I fear we disagree. You are, in fact, absolutely perfect. For me.” All traces of amusement faded, and he regarded her through very serious eyes. “You asked me last night if I wanted anything more from you than forgiveness, and I told you I didn’t. In the history of the world, there may have been a man who uttered a more gargantuan falsehood, but I tend to doubt it. I want everything from you, Callie. Your heart, your love, your smiles and laughter. And in return, I offer you everything I have—my heart, my love, my very soul. And all my worldly goods, such as they are.”
Hot moisture pushed behind Callie’s eyes. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
He briefly closed his eyes, then said, “I love you, Callie. God, how I love you. You’ve owned me since the first moment I saw you, spinning about on the terrace, holding your doll.”
Oh, my. Well, now he’d done it. There was no holding back the tears of joy that spilled over her lashes. “I love you, too. So very much. My sweet William.”
“I’m delighted to hear it, because the duke and duchess have given us their blessing.”
“They have?”
“They have indeed. I’ll have you know that I was prepared to argue them into the ground and carry you off with or without their blessing; however, they were shockingly easy to convince. Seems all they want is your happiness. Which means the only question left is, can I make you happy?”
“Yes!” A laugh of pure joy she couldn’t contain escaped her. “Perfectly happy.”
Her laugh was cut off when he snatched her against him and covered her mouth with his in a searing kiss that made her toes curl inside her slippers. The loud clearing of a throat behind Callie made William raise his head. Callie gasped and pulled back from William’s embrace. She turned around, and heat flooded her cheeks at the sight of Aunt Olivia and the footman, the latter straining under the weight of a trunk that was nearly as large as he.
William moved to stand beside Callie. From the corner of her eye, Callie noted with some amusement that his face bore a blush that she guessed matched her own. How lovely that he could blush. She fully intended to give him plenty to blush about.
“I beg your pardon, Aunt Olivia,” said William. “I quite forgot myself, um, as well as your presence.”
“Quite all right, dear boy,” Aunt Olivia hollered. “I’m delighted at your enthusiasm. However, you are incorrect—there is one more question that you need to ask.” She raised her brows and cast a significant look at Callie’s left hand.
Callie heard William mutter something that sounded suspiciously like, “Bloody hell, I’m an idiot.” Then he grasped her shoulders and turned her to face him. Leaning close, he whispered in her ear, “I think it’s possible that Aunt Olivia isn’t quite as deaf as everyone believes.”
“Of course I am,” boomed Aunt Olivia. “Deaf as a post. Now do carry on. Poor James cannot be expected to hold that trunk all day, you know.”
William leaned back and smiled into her eyes. “As your aunt pointed out, there is one question remaining, one I momentarily forgot about as you managed once again to addle my wits by telling me you loved me.”
“Terribly sorry. But you’d best get used to it, as I intend to tell you frequently.”
“Which is only one of the thousands of things I love about you.” He reached into this waistcoat pocket and withdrew a ring—a single pearl set on a slim gold band.
“It belonged to my mother,” he said. Then he lowered himself to one knee. “Callie… my darling Dimples. I love you with all my heart. Will you marry me?”
“Yes, my dearest Dusty. Yes, yes, yes, yes!”
William stood, and Callie threw herself into his open arms, not caring one whit that all of Society would be gossiping about this unprecedented scene for months to come.
“Bravo, my dears!” shouted Aunt Olivia. She rushed forward and enveloped Callie in a tight hug. Before releasing her, Aunt Olivia whispered in her ear, “There now, did I not tell you there would soon be an engagement?”
She stepped back, shot Callie a knowing wink, and then crooked her finger at the footman. “Come along, James. The betrothed couple requires no further assistance from us. Oh, and Callie, dear, you and William should wave—you’ve attracted quite an audience.” She sailed up the walkway like a schooner under full wind with James staggering beneath the weight of the trunk in her wake.
“Audience?” Callie and William murmured in unison. They looked toward the townhouse, and Callie barely suppressed a groan. Her entire family—Hayley and Stephen and their three children, Angel, Matthew, and Christian, as well as Pamela and Marshall and their twins Paul and Pippa, plus Callie’s brothers Nathan and Andrew—all stood framed in the front window, grinning and waving madly.
“Good heavens, we really do have an audience,” said Callie. She looked at Hayley, who smiled at Callie and blew her a kiss, a gesture Callie returned.
“You’re going to be teased endlessly about this by my wretched brothers,” she said out of the corner of her mouth as she and William waved.
“I’m not worried. I’ll simply repay them in kind if they ever find women willing to marry them.” He turned to her and clasped her hands. “Before we join your family—I’ve thought of one more question. What should we do with the mirror pendant? Do you want to keep it, or shall we sell it?”
“Sell it,” Callie answered without hesitation. “It helped bring us together, and perhaps it can do the same for another couple who might otherwise not find each other.”
“You’re very wise. Compassionate. And very beautiful.” He leaned forward and brushed his lips over hers. Once, twice, then, with a groan, he rested his forehead against hers for several seconds. Then he leaned back, and the desire burning in his eyes singed Callie to the soles of her feet.
“Please tell me you don’t want a long engagement,” he said.
“I don’t. I only want you.” She smiled into his beautiful, dark eyes. “My heart’s desire.”
The End of Heart’s Desire
DEAR READER,
Thank you so much for reading Heart’s Desire! I hope you enjoyed Callie and William’s story. Callie Albright is a character dear to my heart as she appeared in my very first book, Red Roses Mean Love, which was published way back in 1999 (and is still in print!). Callie was just a child in that book and it was always my hope that I’d be able to someday write her story so she could find her own Happily Ever After. Those Happily Ever Afters are why I enjoy romance novels so much-- both reading and writing them. I just adore happy endings where love conquers all. There’s so much sorrow in the world-- let’s hear it for love! Yay!
If you’re so inclined, I would greatly appreciate it if you’d consider leaving an honest review for this book (seriously, an honest review-- it’s okay if it wasn’t your cup of tea. If all I wanted was compliments I’d call my mom, LOL!). Reader reviews are very important to authors, especially for self-published e-books. Here’s the Amazon link if you’d like to leave a review:
Review Heart's Desire on Amazon.com
Thank you again for
reading Heart’s Desire. I wish you a lifetime filled with much happiness and romance, and many delightful reading hours!
Best regards,
Jacquie D’Alessandro
AT LAST excerpt
Regency-era Novella, featuring my first Scottish hero
Sophia Mallory, Countess Winterbourne thought she'd left her handsome Scottish lover behind in the highlands. But when Ian Broderick shows up in a London ballroom, Sophia realizes her past is about to catch up with her, and the scandal could cost her everything…
London, 1820
Sophia moved swiftly along the perimeter of the ballroom, focused on fleeing. Escape. She had to escape. When she reached the French windows, she grasped the curved brass handle and opened the paned glass panel just enough to slip outside. A gust of unseasonably chilly air, heavy with the threat of rain, swirled around her, pebbling her skin, but she barely noticed the discomfort.
Heart pounding, she anxiously peered back into the ballroom, her staccato breaths fogging the glass. Dread seized her when she noted Ian no longer stood under the archway leading into the ballroom, but then she spied the back of a dark head standing on the far side of the room, near the punch bowl. The man’s height identified him as Ian and Sophia sucked in a quick breath of relief. Thank God. Now she just needed to circle around to the front of the mansion then request her carriage be brought around. She cursed the delay that would entail, but at least she’d escaped the ballroom undetected. And once ensconced inside her vehicle, with the velvet curtains drawn, she’d be safe.
She turned. And froze at the sight of the snowy cravat mere inches from her nose.
“Going somewhere, Sophia?” Ian’s husky voice, rich with the flavor of Scotland, filled the darkness between them.
And with a sinking heart Sophia knew, that with those three simple words, everything she’d tried to escape had found her.
End of At Last excerpt.
Buy At Last now.
MINE AT MIDNIGHT excerpt
Contemporary Romantic Comedy
For Cinderella, the fun ended at midnight. But for Merrie Langston, that’s just when things start heating up…
Merrie is a free-spirited, caterer looking for a bank loan to expand her business. Tom Farrell is her buttoned-down accountant who’s trying to get her finances in order-- no easy task as she keeps her receipts in Baggies. Sparks fly when these opposites realize they do indeed attract.
Tom wasn't sure how a caterer dressed in an elf's costume could look so sexy. His gaze dropped to her mouth and he barely refrained from groaning.
One taste. One kiss. Just to satisfy this inexplicable, insatiable curiosity. He lowered his head, slowly, giving Merrie the opportunity stop him, but instead she lifted her face and rose up on her toes.
He brushed his lips over hers, once, twice, experimental touches that enflamed rather than satisfied. He lightly ran the tip of his tongue over her bottom lip, a favor she instantly returned. And in a heartbeat he was lost.
She tasted exactly the way she smelled-- sweet, seductive, and delicious. He heard a low groan. Him? Her? He didn’t know. Didn’t know anything beyond the satiny, luscious warmth of her mouth, the erotic friction of her tongue rubbing against his. The bewitching feel of her pressed against him as he drew her closer and she wrapped her arms more tightly around him.
Heat, want, desire, pumped through him, rapidly depleting his control. His hands glided slowly up her back, and he plucked off her elf hat to sift his hands through her silky soft curls. Everything about her was curvy, feminine, and soft and fit so well against every part of him that was so… not soft. She strained closer, shifting against him, and his erection jerked in response.
Some small, barely audible kernel of common sense worked its way through the fog of lust clouding his judgment and reminded him that they stood in the Baxter’s kitchen and that this had gone far enough.
He lifted his head and fought to control his ragged breathing. Merrie clung to him, short puffs of breath emanating from between her moist, parted lips. A hint of crimson stained her cheeks, and she slowly opened her eyes. A growl of want rose in his throat. She looked glazed, dazed, and thoroughly aroused. Much the way he assumed he must look.
“Holy cow,” she said in a breathless whisper.
Personally, he didn’t think ‘holy cow’ did that kiss justice, but damn, he was impressed she was capable of speech. He sure as hell wasn’t there yet.
She blinked several times, her stunned gaze searching his face as if she’d never seen him before. “I, um, didn’t know accountants could kiss like that.”
He had to swallow twice to finally locate his voice. “I didn’t know elves could kiss like that.”
“I’m not sure they normally do. Seems like it would melt the north polar cap.”
She could say that again. He felt as if he were roasting from the inside out. And if he didn’t step away from her, he was going to kiss her again. Which would definitely be unwise-- for some reason he couldn’t think of right now, but he was pretty sure there was one.
After slowly releasing her, he took a step back. Her arms slipped from around him, then settled at her sides. He immediately missed the feel of her against him, which was bad. Really bad. But now that she wasn’t touching him, his brain was kicking back into action, shouting recriminations at him. Since he felt responsible for starting this… whatever it was, it was up to him to cut it off at the pass.
He raked his hands, which weren’t completely steady, through his hair. “Look, Merrie, as pleasant as that kiss was, I think we can agree that it wouldn’t be a good idea to repeat it.” He forced himself not to wince at using a tepid word like “pleasant” to describe a passionate exchange that had steam all but exuding from his pores. “You’re my client, and I wouldn’t want to start anything that could be construed as a conflict of interest, especially where your loan might be concerned.”
As soon as the words passed his lips his inner voice scoffed and shoved the reasoning aside. Hey, he was her accountant, he prepared her financial statements, but it’s not like he was the loan officer. Now that would be a conflict of interest. He could imagine that Merrie’s kiss would induce the loan officer to not only give her the money she requested, but also the keys to the freakin’ vault.
She nodded, slowly at first, then more vigorously. “You’re right, of course. Besides, it’s not as if that kiss could go anywhere. Let’s face it, personality-wise, we’re like oil and water.”
“Exactly,” he agreed, wondering why he didn’t feel quite as relieved as he should. “Like night and day.”
“Like wet and dry. So we’ll just forget it. Go on, business as usual. Blame the last few minutes of insanity on that common holiday malady, Mistletoe Madness.”
It took him several seconds to answer because he was still trying to figure out which one of them was ‘wet’ and which one was ‘dry’-- a difficult task because nothing about their kiss could be labeled ‘dry’, and when he thought about wet… hell, his train of thought completely jumped the track.
End of Mine at Midnight excerpt.
Buy Mine at Midnight now.
KISS THE COOK excerpt
Contemporary Romantic Comedy
Melanie Gibson has her hands full. Not only is she caring for her beloved grandmother, she's also working desperately to secure a bank loan for her fledging gourmet catering service. The last thing she has time for is romance-- not even with Christopher Bishop, the sexy financial whiz who's been evaluating her business.
After eight years of toiling to put his younger siblings through school, Chris is ready to lead the life of a carefree bachelor. Then he meets Melanie, and finds himself thinking about forever. Melanie insists she's too smart to fall for a man with the devilish good looks of a practiced playboy, but Chris is determined to show her that their passion is too powerful to deny-- and that love is the sweetest thing of all
Melanie stepped outside into the oppressive heat carrying a frosted mug of lemona
de. Laughter bubbled up in her throat at the sight that greeted her eyes. The only part of Chris that was visible were his legs. The rest of him was under her car. As much as she didn't want to, Melanie couldn't help but admire those muscular, tanned male legs.
Walking up to him, she tapped his Reebok with her flip flop. "I brought you something to drink."
He scooted from beneath the car, moving sideways like a sand crab. When his head was clear, he stood up and wiped his dirty hands with an equally dirty rag. In spite of being sweaty, rumpled, and sporting a smudge of something black on his jaw he looked good enough lick. The fact that his not-so-white-anymore T-shirt was molded to his broad chest and impressive abs definitely upped the sexy quotient. Uh huh, like he needed to look more sexy.
He took the proffered lemonade and drained it in a series of nonstop gulps that drew Melanie's attention to his strong, tanned throat. When he finished, he touched the cold mug to his forehead. "Thanks. I needed that."
"Want some more?"
He shook his head. "Not now, thanks."
His proximity was having a strange effect on her stomach. Stepping away from him, she asked, "How's it going?"
"Good. I just finished changing the oil. I gave you a complete tune-up and your battery is hooked up to my recharger. All that's left is changing the spark plugs." He indicated the opened hood with a jerk of his head. "Wanna watch?"
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