by Lucy Ellis
He took her hands and held them between both of his—a strangely formal gesture that shook her to the ground.
‘You tell me I don’t see you, Clementine, but I do. Because we’re alike, you and I. I see a girl who has been on her own far too long. I see a girl who takes chances and not all of them work out.’ He swayed in against her until they were eye to eye. ‘I see a girl who when she gets scared runs away. I’m not going to let you run away from me, Clementine. I will chase you to the ends of the earth if I have to. I love you. I will always love you.’
He took a deep, sustaining breath, as if making a declaration of intent. ‘I’m a Marinov, and that is how we love our women.’
Clementine’s heart stuttered, and then began to thrum to a deeper beat. Hope was blooming inside her and it hurt too much—because she’d been disappointed so many times in the past. People promised to love you, but love wasn’t always enough. Careers and personal desires got in the way. She’d learned that with her parents.
Serge seemed to sense her reticence. He let go of her hands and reached around her waist instead, suddenly so close he was her whole world.
‘I’ve been in hell, Clementine, because I knew I’d driven you away. At the château I wanted to take my words back. In the car I wanted to take them back. I tried to show you in the hotel but it wasn’t enough. When I woke up and found you gone I knew it wasn’t enough. I didn’t give you the words you needed because I found them so difficult to say—because I knew once I said them there was no going back for you and me. It’s for ever. You do understand it’s for ever, Clementine?’
A lava-flow of emotion pushed past the hard pylons she’d erected to protect herself and she laid her hand against his chest.
Serge gazed down at her hand, acknowledging the familiar gesture.
‘Please don’t be just saying that,’ she said.
His eyes met hers, and she was stunned by the look of blatant hope in his. He wasn’t holding anything back from her any more.
‘Be with me, Clementine. Love me. Be mine.’
All the breath seemed to have left her body. It would be so easy to just give in. But she wasn’t a little girl any more, hoping others would give her what she needed. She knew now she had to ask for it.
‘I want to know first what it would be like, being yours?’ she said softly, her voice growing more sure. ‘Because I value my independence, Serge.’
She gave him a little smile, and his eyes lit with such a fierce light it felt slightly overwhelming.
‘I will tell you what I want,’ he said, his accent thickening the words. ‘I want to live with you and work beside you and fill our house with friends and family and have babies with you. I want it all. But I don’t know how much you want, Clementine.’
She swallowed. ‘You told me once you didn’t want children.’
‘Clementine, I’ve said a lot of things I wish you’d never heard. When my father died he left behind chaos in his wake. I vowed I’d never do that. But I’d been living a half-life until I met you. I want to live fully, in the moment, and I want children with you and I want to grow old with you.’
‘I took a chance, hopping in that limo with you all those weeks ago,’ she said shyly. ‘I can’t see why I shouldn’t take another chance now.’
‘Forget the limo. You came across the world with a man you hardly knew.’ Serge’s fingers tightened around hers as he meshed their hands together. ‘But, kisa, you must never, never do that again. Have you any idea how dangerous it is?’
She looked at their joined hands, wondering how that had happened.
‘You’ve never felt dangerous to me. I always feel safe with you, Serge.’
‘I want you to feel safe. I want to look after you, Clementine. I don’t want you out in the world on your own. It takes years off me just thinking about it.’
‘Then don’t think about it, Slugger.’
She drifted up against him with a little smile he recognised. He kissed her softly, tenderly, with growing depth.
She wound her arms around his neck, forged that deep physical connection she had had with him from the beginning simply through the press of her body to his. But now she knew what had been there all along—the emotional link that had been forged between them, highlighted yesterday when he had moved over her on the bed and showed her he loved her because he hadn’t had the words for how deeply he felt.
Now she understood. Serge didn’t always have the words, but he had been showing her all along.
He looked into her eyes.
‘Will you be my wife, Clementine Chevalier?’
A whole host of feelings cascaded through her, but the predominant one was certainty.
‘Yes, of course I will. Was there ever any doubt?’
Serge began to chuckle, his chest vibrating with sound.
‘What’s so funny?’
‘Oh, my elusive Clementine—was there ever any doubt? But I have you at last.’
‘You always had me, Serge. You just had to ask.’
‘I’m asking, moya lyubov.’
My love.
Clementine’s heart caught on that sentiment. Happy tears sprinkled her eyes and Serge took her in his arms and kissed her.
‘Come on, Boots,’ he said with deep satisfaction, ‘let’s find a hotel. I want to be alone with you.’
* * * * *
All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention.
All Rights Reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises II BV/S.à.r.l. The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the prior consent of the publisher in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
® and TM are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.
First published in Great Britain 2012
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of Harlequin (UK) Limited.
Harlequin (UK) Limited, Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road,
Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR
© Lucy Ellis 2012
ISBN: 978 1-408-97332-5
Table of Contents
Cover
Excerpt
About the Author
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Copyright