He took his finger away and kissed her, a quick peck that had her stretching up to him even as he pulled away and continued, “And to prove how serious I am, how desperately I want to spend the rest of my life with you, I vow not to make love to you until we are married. Whether that day is tomorrow or six months from now, your chastity is assured.”
Joy was beginning to bubble up inside her soul. And certainty: the certainty this was absolutely right, that he was right for her and that their love would last forever.
“What if I don’t want to be chaste?” she asked, slipping her arms around his neck and arching against him.
His body was stone. Hard, hot stone. He closed his eyes and groaned. Then he opened them and speared her with a glare.
“You will be, like it or not, until the day we are married.”
Cara smiled, her heart racing ahead and making her almost dizzy. This was really happening. She was really going to do this. She was going to take the biggest chance of her life—and she wasn’t scared any longer.
“Did you bring your plane, Jack Wolfe?”
His answering grin stole her breath. “I did indeed.”
“Vegas?” she asked.
“Vegas.”
EPILOGUE
THEY were married in Las Vegas before the sun set the next day. And they were making love in a penthouse suite not an hour later. Though it had only been less than two weeks since they’d last been together, this time was like the first time. Jack worshipped her body with his own, bringing her to climax again and again before taking his own pleasure.
Later, when she’d recovered sufficiently, Cara returned the favor, teasing and taunting him to the edge of control before taking him over the peak.
They fell into a deep sleep, and then woke again before sunrise to make love when everything was quiet and still. When it was over, Cara fell asleep again. Her dreams were filled with Jack, and when she woke, he was there with a tray of food and a bouquet of fresh-cut roses.
“Do you think your mother minds very much that she couldn’t be here for the wedding?” Jack asked as she smeared jelly on the last slice of toast.
Her heart turned over as she looked at him. He was clad in a pair of silk boxers—and that only so he could answer the door when room service came, she imagined. His hair was tousled, and his easy smile stole her breath away.
“So long as we have the big wedding back home, she doesn’t care that we’re already married. She couldn’t have left Remy, anyway. He wouldn’t understand.”
“No, I don’t suppose he would.”
Mama had been so happy for her, and she’d loved Jack on sight. And when they eventually had the church wedding back in New Orleans for friends and family, Mama would be the proudest woman alive.
“What?” Jack said a few moments later, and she knew she’d been staring at him.
“I’m just thinking how much I love you. And how grateful I am for what you’re doing for Remy.”
The full-time nurse Jack had suggested they hire would make such a difference in Remy’s life. In all their lives. Mama wouldn’t have to worry so much about her son anymore, and Evie would no longer have to take turns watching Remy. She could pursue her own goals and have the life a twenty-three-year-old should have.
With additional therapy, Remy would be able to cope with changes much better than he did now. It was more than Cara had ever dreamed she would be able to provide.
“Your family is my family now. And your mother’s a wonderful woman.”
“You’re just saying that because she told you to marry me quick before I changed my mind.”
He leaned down and kissed her. “You weren’t changing your mind.”
He went over and opened his briefcase. When he dropped a thick packet on her tray, she frowned.
“What’s this?”
Jack’s smile was very self-satisfied. Like the proverbial cat that ate the canary, she decided.
“Open it.”
Cara ripped open the packet and pulled out a thick sheaf of papers. Her jaw dropped as she realized what they were. “These are shares in Bobby’s Nice casino.”
“Majority shares, my love. Congratulations.”
She blinked up at him. “You bought Bobby’s casino for me?”
“Most of it,” he said. “But Bobby still has a stake. What fun would it be if you couldn’t torture him a bit?”
Cara laughed. “Oh, my God, you mean I’m Bobby Gold’s boss?”
“If you’d like the other casinos, I’ll get them for you.”
She shook her head. “No, one is enough.” Ridiculously, her eyes filled with tears. “Thank you.”
Jack set the tray aside and pushed her back against the pillows. “Just think, every year on the anniversary of our first meeting, we can close the high-stakes room and play our very own game, just the two of us.”
“What did you have in mind?” Cara asked as his lips found the pulse in her throat.
His sinfully sexy laugh vibrated against her neck. “Strip poker, of course.”
2000: Jacob becomes a success …
As Jacob’s genius reputation spread, his designs became greatly sought after. But Jacob refused to be motivated by profit and instead specialised in projects for charity whenever he could. But as the years went by, Jacob became increasingly uncomfortable with the increasing media attention and stepped back, becoming a shadow again. He knew that taking the limelight would force him to face the past he had pushed so determinedly behind him.
But fate had other ideas, and just five years later Jacob’s path crosses with one of his beloved siblings—Sebastian Wolfe. Shocked to hear his brother’s name after so long away, something begins to stir within Jacob. Sebastian has submitted plans for the design of his new flagship hotel and, intrigued, Jacob ensures the job is accepted.
With just this small touch of intimacy with his brother—however far removed it might be—Jacob’s ache of loneliness increases. He cannot bring himself to contact Sebastian directly and so pours his love for his brother into his design. The hotel was heralded as a work of genius, helping Sebastian’s fledgling company find its feet.
To this day, Sebastian is unaware of Jacob’s input.
BEHIND THE SCENES AT WOLFE MANOR …
Share a secret about Jack or Cara?
Jack loves Cara’s long legs, but when she was growing up she hated being so tall. She was always taller than the boys in her class and it made her feel gawky and ugly. Thankfully, she no longer feels that way!
Who is the biggest, baddest Wolfe?
Jack would say he’s the biggest, baddest Wolfe because he never, ever shrank from doing the hard things in life. Jack is tough and willing to go the extra mile.
Which Wolfe brother did you most fancy?
Jack, of course! He was such a brooding, lonely, sexy man. He has a Bond-like quality to him. He’s a loner and he’s tough as nails. Nothing fazes him. You can absolutely count on him in any crisis.
Which is your hero’s favourite room in Wolfe Manor?
Jack isn’t very fond of Wolfe Manor, but if he had to pick a room, it would be the kitchen. Because when he was little and feeling lonely or scared, he would creep into the kitchen and hide beneath the big prep table. The cook always knew he was there, however, and she’d lure him out with tasty morsels of food. He felt safe and loved in the warm kitchen with its delicious smells.
How did Jack pop the big question?
You’ll need to read the book to find out!
LYNN’S WRITING SECRETS …
What do you enjoy most about writing as part of a continuity series; how does it differ from writing a single title?
I enjoyed working with the other authors! We had an e-mail loop and we talked quite a lot about the details of the stories. When I’m writing a single title, I’m working alone. It was nice to have the support of the other authors.
What do you think makes a great hero/heroine?
I think a great hero and/or heroine nee
ds to be passionate about something. Passion is at the heart of every strong character, whether it’s a passion for a cause, a worthy goal, or even another person.
When you are writing, what is a typical day?
It depends on how close to deadline I am! In the early days, a typical writing day entails getting up early with my husband and going up to my office with a cup of coffee or tea. I work on e-mail and social media for a little while, and then I write. By the time my husband comes home again, I’m done for the day. But as I get close to a deadline, I end up working late into the evening until the book is done.
JANETTE KENNY
BAD BLOOD
ILLEGITIMATE TYCOON
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
For as long as JANETTE KENNY can remember, plots and characters have taken up residence in her head. Her parents, both voracious readers, read her the classics when she was a child. That gave birth to a deep love for literature, and allowed her to travel to exotic locales—those found between the covers of books. Janette’s artist mother encouraged her yen to write. As an adolescent she began creating cartoons featuring her dad as the hero, with plots that focused on the misadventures on their family farm, and she stuffed them in the nightly newspaper for him to find. To her frustration, her sketches paled in comparison with her captions.
Her first real writing began with fan fiction, taking favourite TV shows and writing episodes and endings she loved—happily ever after, of course. In her junior year of high school she told her literature teacher she intended to write for a living one day. His advice? Pursue the dream, but don’t quit the day job.
Though she dabbled with articles, she didn’t fully embrace her dream to write novels until years later, when she was a busy cosmetologist making a name for herself in her own salon. That was when she decided to write the type of stories she’d been reading—romances.
Once the writing bug bit, an incurable passion consumed her to create stories and people them. Still, it was seven more years and that many novels before she saw her first historical romance published. Now that she’s also writing contemporary romances for Mills & Boon, she finally knows that a full-time career in writing is closer to reality.
Janette shares her home and free time with a chow/shepherd-mix pup she rescued from the pound, who aspires to be a lap dog. She invites you to visit her website at www.jankenny.com. She loves to hear from readers—e-mail her at [email protected].
CHAPTER ONE
THE crush of beautiful people in this small town on the French Riviera was a treat for the senses, but only one beauty captured Rafael da Souza’s attention. She always had from the first moment he had met her in London.
His desire for her had never waned during the five years they’d been married. Nothing would ever change that.
He knew the exact moment strikingly beautiful supermodel Leila Santiago walked into a room, even if he was already prepared. And he was certainly ready for this reunion, body and soul!
Even before they had married, they’d mutually agreed to wait before starting their family. It had been important to both of them that they focus on their careers first. That they enjoyed life and especially each other.
And they had.
Well, almost …
Rafael’s brow pulled as he looked back on what was now the fifth year of their marriage. He could count the times he’d been with Leila over this past year on one hand. Her career and his had taken quantum leaps, bigger than either of them could have imagined, but such success came at a terrible price for it had pulled them both in different directions.
Leila had been involved on two whirlwind global tours, her beautiful face splashed on glossy magazine covers around the world. Rafael’s time had volleyed between being technical adviser on one film and developing a cutting-edge mobile phone device that was light-years ahead of the competition.
He and Leila had only managed to find one fleeting weekend to spend together in Aruba following a photo shoot there. Moments alone, undisturbed by their busy careers, had always been precious between them, and although Rafael had tried to talk to Leila about his desire to start a family, the time had gone by too quickly.
“We’ll talk about it at the film festival in France,” she’d promised in Aruba as she’d planted hot kisses across the taut planes of his belly. And then she’d taken his mind off family and his dream with bold caresses and long leisurely kisses that he’d been starving for.
They’d ended up in bed, arms and legs entwined. Tongues dueling in carnal love. Bodies thrusting together in the most passionate sex he’d ever had with her.
When he was buried deep in her, clutching her to his heart, he felt whole, and they’d both gotten lost in loving the night away. And then their idyll had been over. Rafael had left with the rising sun after Leila had dropped the bombshell that she wouldn’t reschedule an upcoming shoot in order to accompany him to his brother Nathaniel’s wedding. He’d been too angry and hurt to do more than offer a clipped, “Fine, I’ll see you in France.”
Now, he certainly intended to do more than talk about starting a family. They would have an entire week together in France. While their days would be busy with promotions and such, their nights would be devoted to each other.
His heart warmed at the thought of having children with Leila, of having a home with her that wasn’t empty or flat.
He’d never had that in his entire life. His mother had loved him, yes, but she had always held at least two jobs at a time to support them, and she had worked incredibly long hours. He had hardly seen her as a child.
As for a home, their small flat in Wolfestone might have been the place Rafael had been raised, but the memories there were painful, suffocating. Rafael had felt only freedom when he had left its cloying grasp. He had moved to a modern apartment in London and then, when he had married Leila, they had bought a luxurious penthouse in Rio, far away from the darkness of Rafael’s past.
But though this was his and Leila’s residence, it still lacked that life and energy of a loving family that he had felt missing for so long.
Rafael wanted a real casa with land where his children could play and make good memories to last a lifetime. A place they could call home, a place they’d feel safe. Loved. Everything his aristocratic father had denied him.
Leila knew how much this meant to him and she had shared his dream of having a family.
And, if they were very lucky, they’d realize that dream soon.
Now, as he saw Leila approach and close the distance separating them, his gaze hungrily licked over her like flames on dry tinder, consuming, scorching. It was always like this, the gripping desire that engulfed him whenever they were reunited.
As for his heart.
His heart warmed with emotions that seemed too huge to imagine. He was afraid to look away, to blink, for fear he’d awaken to discover that what he had with her had just been a fantasy.
She was absolutely gorgeous.
And she was his wife. His.
Under the rapid-fire flash of cameras, she strode down La Croisette with her million-dollar smile in place. He knew she wasn’t focused on any one person or thing, that her stunning smile was for her legion of adoring fans.
She knew how to make love to the camera, and the lens loved her. And why wouldn’t it?
She was a fantasy brought to life. The woman every man dreamed of making love to, the woman every woman wished she could emulate.
Perfection. Seductive perfection.
Her mass of golden hair was caught up in a tumble of messy curls that framed a face that had graced every major magazine since she was thirteen. But that gamine child that had launched her career was gone, replaced by a sensual woman who’d worked hard to make a perfectly toned body seem more desirable than voluptuous curves.
Her crimson dress caressed her upthrust breasts and gentle bow of her hips in the warm salt-tinged breeze. He knew every move she made was carefully orchestrated, right down to the metered strides of her long lithe
legs supported by killer stilettos. Strong flawless legs that would wrap around his naked flanks in the throes of passion.
Their March rendezvous had reminded him just how much he’d missed her this past hectic year. How he’d taken for granted the exact feel of her silken skin against his fingers and mouth, her erotic scent that clung to him and held tight, her sultry passion that drove him wild in bed and out.
He caught the slight hesitancy in her eyes before she stopped before him, her palms firm on his chest in a familiar way that had been captured on film a thousand times. A touch that left him trembling inside, remembering all that was good between them. All the passion, the pure joy, the bliss of shutting out the world and lying wrapped in each other’s arms.
Her gaze made a slow sweep up to his face, and he felt his own lips pulling into a smile. His hands settled on her trim waist, firm and clearly possessive. Her soft lips beckoned him and he met her halfway for their customary kiss of greeting, but the moment was gone before he could savor it.
Her scent stayed with him though, a provocative perfume that teased the senses. That promised much more. This would be the new fragrance she was here to promote in conjunction with the release of the film of the same name, Bare Souls.
That certainly did not describe them!
For as close as they were with each other’s bodies, they had both kept their own demons securely locked away since the day they’d met. He’d never told her how being William Wolfe’s unwanted bastard had scarred him. She’d never divulged everything pertaining to the near disastrous bout of anorexia she’d suffered at a young age. But he suspected she was still haunted by that episode in her life, and he wondered now if she’d truly fully recovered from the disease.
Those big hazel eyes that had captured the heart of the world at thirteen locked on his and his concerns fled. For a heartbeat it was difficult to breathe. Impossible to think.
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