‘You are enough...you are so much it scares me.’ She spoke in a bare whisper, her wide eyes reflecting the fear in her voice. She came and stood in front of him, her arms wrapping about her waist. ‘My dad hurt my mum so terribly, I’m terrified of ever being hurt like that.’
‘I’d never—’
She interrupted him. ‘I know you wouldn’t. I know in my heart you wouldn’t, but I have spent so many years protecting myself, hardening myself to a life where I would be alone, what happened between us was too intense for me to process.’ She bit her lip, tears glistening in her eyes. He went to hold her but, shaking her head, she took a step backwards. ‘No. I need to explain all of this to you.’ She gave a shaky laugh. ‘I had my life planned out. A life with little risk of having my heart broken. And then I meet you. And I was so incredibly cross at how attracted I was to you. I watched you in Monrosa’s cathedral as you stood at Edwin’s side the day he married, and you whispered something to him that had him smile and relax for a few moments and I was hooked. Even from that distance I was hooked by your kindness, your empathy, your energy. And later on you tried to help me when my sandal got stuck, but I was so overwhelmed I snapped at you.’ She buried her face in her hands and groaned. ‘And then I ambushed you and kissed you. You must have thought that I was crazy.’
He shook his head. ‘It was the most wonderful kiss of my life.’
She smiled at that. ‘I love you, Luis. I love your spontaneity, your optimism. I know I might grumble about it sometimes but that’s only because you are pushing me to go outside my comfort zone, something I need to do.’
He wanted to grin. He wanted to whoop. But he needed, wanted to hear more from her. ‘What future do you want for us, Alice?’
She frowned. Shrugged.
He waited.
She cleared her throat. ‘I’m not sure...what do you think?’
He shook his head. ‘You tell me.’
She frowned even more. ‘Why?’
‘You said that your dad played mind games with you, manipulated things to control you. Well, I want you to be in control of how this relationship evolves.’
‘But that doesn’t seem right...it should be equal...it...’
He shrugged. ‘I will go at your pace.’
She let out a long, deep breath. ‘I love you.’
He grinned. ‘So you said. Now, what about our future?’
She bit her lip again. Blushed. She tilted her chin. ‘I want to make love with you. I want to move to Monrosa and be with you. I want us to marry and grow old together. I want your babies.’ She stopped and looked appalled. In a rush she said, ‘Oh, that’s not the type of future you meant...you look so shocked!’
He shook his head, fighting for words. And then he realised that the time for speaking was over. Lifting her up into the air, he twirled her around and then, lowering her, he whispered, ‘I have never heard anything so perfect in all of my life.’
He kissed her long and slow, only breaking to lift her sweatshirt off. She undid the buttons of his shirt and dropped it to the floor, her hands moving over his bare skin with a slow reverence that kicked his desire up a dangerous notch.
He undid her bra, and stood back, wanting to etch this moment on his brain for ever. When he kissed the perfect pert shape of her breast she gasped, and gasped again when he undid the button of her jeans.
She kicked off her boots as he pulled her jeans down, his hands lingering over the soft curves of her hips and bottom. He laid her down on the rug before the fire, his mouth and fingers caressing every inch of her body, her gasps, the arching of her body, the feel of her hands raking through his hair, over his shoulders, driving him on.
But then, her eyes dazed, she pushed him onto his back and fumbled for the button of his trousers, her mouth planting a hot kiss on his before she mumbled, ‘I can’t handle this for much longer.’
He immediately flipped her back over, caressed her cheek, his heart ready to explode as he stared into the eyes of the woman who had seen his true self, who had seen his potential, who made him a better man, and in a low growl he said, ‘You can decide on what future we have, but I’m in control of this.’
* * *
Alice arched her back, warmth and need and desire leaving her barely able to think. Luis ran kisses along her collarbone, his fingers torturing her nipple. She arched even more as his mouth shifted to her nipple, the warmth, the abrasion of his tongue, sending waves of frustrated pleasure through her body. His hands moved over her stomach until he reached her panties. His fingers curled around the fabric and as her back arched in response he pulled them off, his expression fierce. She inhaled deeply, suddenly feeling really exposed. No man had seen her like this. His gaze moved up her naked body, and she blinked at the desire and love in his eyes. ‘You are so beautiful.’
Her heart skipped. Her skin glowed and tingled. And she held her breath when he lowered his trousers, her body temperature soaring when he stood over her naked.
He lay down at her side, his hand running over her body in soft sweeps, and then his mouth met hers. His kiss was tender and kind, his fingers caressing. And then he gazed down at her, his expression concerned. ‘I don’t want to hurt you.’
She smiled at his worry, loving him even more, and whispered, ‘I know, and you never will.’
She clung to him when he entered her, gasped at the wonder of their becoming one. Her body arched up to meet every inch of him. Not once did their gazes part. Her gasps were met by his whispers of love and adoration, and she came apart in his arms time and time again, but it was only when he eventually came with her, after what felt like hours of torture, that the most powerful, life-affirming surge of love split her body in two.
And afterwards they lay on the floor, covered by a throw from the sofa, and stared into each other’s eyes, no words spoken, their smiles saying everything.
EPILOGUE
‘DON’T CRY. THAT’S supposed to be my job today.’
Breaking away from waving at the crowds lining the streets of Monrosa’s old town, Alice reached over to touch Toni’s hand. Toni looked sensational in her gold bridesmaid’s gown, selected to match her own backless ivory lace gown threaded with gold.
Toni flapped her hand before her eyes, laughing and crying all at once. ‘I know I’m going to ruin my make-up. It’s just that you look so amazing and I’m so happy for you and Luis is going to die when he sees you and everything about this day is so magical.’
Beside Alice, holding Alice’s winter wedding bouquet of ruby-red, lilac and midnight-blue roses and peonies, her mum continued to wave and smile at the crowds while whispering under her breath, ‘Girls, concentrate.’
Alice and Toni giggled.
Alice waved to the people of Monrosa, who had so warmly embraced her since she had moved to the island, her heart exploding as flashing images of the past year ran through her mind—a book sailing through the air this precise day a year ago. The Christmas week in London and Verbier when she had fallen in love. The day she had moved to Monrosa last April and Luis’s excitement as he had shown her around their new home, a modern villa within the palace grounds overlooking the sea. Her work in establishing a palace museum. The book she was writing in conjunction with his father on the history of Monrosa. The hot summer’s day when they had been out sailing on the Mediterranean and Luis had proposed to her. How her heart ached when Luis was away promoting Monrosa and Young Adults Together, her pride in how much he was already accomplishing. The thrill, the exultation, the wonder of their reunions. The long nights where they barely slept. Wanting to chat, to connect, to make slow and tender love.
A loud roar went up from the waiting crowd when their open carriage entered Plaza Santa Ana. Climbing down from the carriage, she walked towards the crowd and waved, their applause and calls of goodwill quickening her heart. Once she was certain that the crowd had had a good look at her
gown she returned to the steps of the cathedral and to the Cardinal of Monrosa, who was waiting for them, accepting his welcome.
The Cardinal went inside, and they lined up. Toni, who was trembling just about as much as she was, led the way, and, clutching her mum’s arm, Alice followed, unable to breathe, her legs shaking so fiercely she was worried they might buckle at any moment. She knew she should smile, should look at their waiting guests. But, totally overwhelmed, she could only focus on the never-ending length of the aisle before them.
And then he stepped out into view. And she sighed and smiled shyly. His magnificence in his navy-blue officer’s dress uniform, the love singing from his eyes and his gentle smile filled her heart with joy and happiness.
Christmas miracles did happen after all.
* * *
If you missed the previous story in the Royals of Monrosa trilogy, check out
Best Friend to Princess Bride
And look out for the next book coming soon!
If you enjoyed this story, check out these other great reads from Katrina Cudmore
Second Chance with the Best Man
Resisting the Italian Single Dad
Christmas with the Duke
All available now!
Keep reading for an excerpt from Singapore Fling with the Millionaire by Michelle Douglas.
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Singapore Fling with the Millionaire
by Michelle Douglas
CHAPTER ONE
CHRISTY MINSLOW TRAILED behind the other business-class passengers—among the first off the plane because business class—and told herself she was not taking advantage of James Cooper-Ford or his high-end fashion label Molto Arketa.
She glanced back and bit her lip. Business class. Why had the man sent her business class? Did he think it’d sway her into signing his contract?
The thought had her eyebrows lifting. Not in this lifetime, buddy! There was no way that Beach Monday and Molto Arketa were ever going to do business. And she’d told him as much. Nicely, of course. So Mr Cooper-Ford could pamper and flatter her until the cows came home and it wouldn’t sway her. She wasn’t some naïve schoolgirl with stars in her eyes. Not any more.
A little shiver of delight refused to be repressed, though. Business class. She’d felt pretty damn pampered when the flight attendant had handed her a cocktail menu, and definitely flattered by the speed with which her Singapore Sling had arrived. She’d chosen a Singapore Sling because Singapore was her destination and it seemed the polite thing to do.
Polite? She bit back a grin. If the Cooper-Fords wanted to throw their money away, who was she to argue?
She halted by the luggage carousel and folded her arms, tried to push away the frown that wanted to settle over her. She wasn’t taking advantage of James Cooper-Ford. People like her didn’t get the opportunity to take advantage of people with double-barrelled surnames. But her suitcase was one of the first to drop to the carousel, and it had her shoulders inching a fraction closer to her ears as she tried to fight off the guilt needling through her.
As she manoeuvred through the airport, her eyes started to widen. There were trees. Inside the building. She wasn’t talking little standards in pots here, but towering trees. And a wall of cascading water. Not to mention tubs of orchids everywhere. She pressed a hand to her chest. It all looked so calm and beautiful. It left her feeling revitalised and oddly restored. Drawing a breath into lungs that felt as if they hadn’t had a chance to breathe properly in months, a tiny flicker of hope flirted at the edges of her consciousness. Maybe Singapore would help her find her creative mojo again.
Staring every which way, she tried to take it all in. According to her guidebook this wasn’t even the most beautiful part of the airport. The Jewel on the airport’s eastern side held an amazing tropical forest garden spanning five storeys and an extraordinary waterfall—the tallest indoor waterfall in the world. She was definitely seeing that before she found a taxi and headed into the city proper. She wasn’t coming all this way and not experiencing that.
Oh, really? said that voice in her head—she could see it fold its arms and tap its foot. And what does that tell you?
Her hand clenched around the handle of her suitcase. She had nothing—nothing—to feel guilty about. It wasn’t possible to take advantage of a company like Molto Arketa. The iconic luxury fashion label was worth billions of dollars. It had men and women in sharp suits, and a board of directors, and the world’s most feted designers...not to mention a raft of up-and-coming bright young things.
And they wanted her.
Or, more to the point, they wanted her company—Beach Monday. Though the likelihood of her selling Beach Monday to a company with MA’s appalling record of workplace exploitation was laughable.
She’d still accepted this two-week junket in Singapore to ‘discuss’ things, anyway.
But that didn’t mean she was taking advantage of the company. She hadn’t hidden how she felt. Besides, she was just one tiny person—no billions or millions.
Her fledgling Beach Monday business might be considered one of the hottest new things around at the moment, but the key word in that sentence was fledgling. Every cent she had she’d poured into her business, and she’d have to watch every penny while she was here. She wasn’t risking everything she’d worked so hard for over the last nine years to make a mistake now. She’d be frugal with her money and on her guard. She had no intention of letting the attention of such a prestigious company go to her head or slip under her guard.
Uh-huh, and you claim you’re not taking advantage of anyone? You’re in Singapore under false pretences. Is that what you’d call ethical?
At that exact moment she glanced up to see her name held high on a gold-embossed placard by a man dressed in a dark suit. Beside him stood another man in another suit and although she wasn’t that kind of designer she could tell that the difference between those two suits was the difference between owning a nice house in the suburbs and owning the world.
Her heart sank. Not only had James Cooper-Ford sent a driver for her, he’d come himself to welcome her. In person.
People like him—people who owned the world—could afford to send drivers, they could afford to offer two-week trips to Singapore, and they could afford to buy whatever they damn well pleased. But no matter how much she reminded herself of that fact, guilt continued to drill away at her insides.
She should turn around and jump on the next flight back to Sydney.
And then what? She needed to make a decision about Beach Monday, and soon. That was the reason she’d come to Singapore. She’d thought of it as a breather—a chance to straighten her head out. But she should’ve done it on her own time, not on James Cooper-Ford’s.
Before she could turn tail and run, however, James, as if aware of her scrutiny, glanced across at her. Not wanting to appear an utter ninny, she forced herself forward. ‘Mr Cooper-Ford.’
If her appearance surprised him, he didn’t betray it by so much as a flicker of an eyelash. ‘Ms Minslow, it’s a pleasure to meet you in person.’ His hand was cool and his clasp firm, but not too firm, and the economy of his movements made her feel gauche and uncoordinated and travel soiled. To hide how she felt, she held her hand out to the other man.
He blinked but shook it. ‘I’m Robert. Your driver, ma’am.’
‘Pleased to meet you.’ She turned back to her host. Assessing blue eyes raked her face. The man was utterly, utterly impeccable—like a model in a glossy Molto Arketa fashion spread. She doubted a single dark hair on his head would dare flip out of place. Which, perversely, had her aching to reach up and mes
s it up.
He was the most perfectly beautiful man she’d ever seen in the flesh. Not in a modern Hemsworth brothers kind of way, but in a young Gregory Peck kind of way. Yesterday she’d have sworn she preferred the Hemsworth look, but she’d have been wrong. Even now she tried telling herself she preferred the breadth of Thor’s shoulders, but it was a lie. There was absolutely nothing wrong with the breadth of Gregory Peck’s shoulders. Or James Cooper-Ford’s.
A frown appeared in his eyes, though it did nothing so vulgar as crease his brow. Dear God. She was staring. Stop staring!
‘I trust your flight was a good one, Ms Minslow?’
Did he have to be so polite? Was it really necessary for him to have gone to so much trouble? ‘Please, call me Christy. And the flight wasn’t just good, it was glorious.’ Worse luck. ‘I mean, truly glorious. I have to go online now and give the airline and staff the best review ever.’
He looked a tiny bit shell-shocked. ‘You leave...reviews?’
‘Of course I do. And if you’re happy with the service you receive, so should you,’ she added stoutly.
Dear God, what was she doing? Rein your mouth in, Christy.
He bent towards her slightly, the frown in his eyes deepening, and her mouth went dry. ‘I’m pleased your flight was so pleasant. However... Christy—’ the hesitation before he said her name made her pulse stutter and start ‘—forgive me, but is something wrong?’
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