by Lynne Graham
‘Happy Birthday, balmaa,’ Jai husked in her ear, breathing in the rich coconut scent of her tumbling strawberry-blond hair as he pressed a kiss to her shoulder and folded her back against his tall, powerful body.
A split second later, he stepped back to slowly slide a necklace round her slender throat, tipping her head forward to clasp it at her nape. Her fingers lifted to touch the sparkling diamond heart and she whirled with a smile in the circle of his arms to stretch up and find his mouth for herself. Excitement buzzed through her, an ache stirring in her pelvis as he crushed her against him, his urgency only matching her own, because Jai had been away on a business trip for a week and she had missed him.
‘I was scared you wouldn’t make it back in time,’ she confided breathlessly against his shoulder.
‘I would never miss your birthday,’ Jai censured, watching her finger the delicate heart at her throat. ‘That’s my heart you hold and it always brings me home again.’
Willow giggled. ‘You’re getting almost romantic,’ she teased. ‘We should go downstairs and see our guests.’
‘My mother was holding the fort when I arrived.’
‘Milly is a terrific social asset,’ Willow agreed, thinking of the mother-in-law she had never expected to have and her warm relationship with her and Jai’s stepfather, Steven, a quiet, retiring older man with a delightful sense of humour.
Over the past two years, their family circle had expanded exponentially, but it was a comfortable and caring expansion, which both of them valued. Jai had dealt with his disillusionment over the father he had once idolised and moved on to develop a strong, deep bond with the mother he had been denied in childhood. He had also become acquainted with his maternal grandfather, the current Duke, who was almost ninety years old. Jai did think, though, that it was sad that his mother had never had another child and that he had no siblings, only stepbrothers and a stepsister, whom they only saw at occasional family events.
Even so, his aunt, Jivika, and her husband were regular visitors, along with various other, more distant relatives. Indeed, Jai and Willow had so many invitations out that they had to pick and choose which they could attend and sometimes it was a relief to return to the tranquillity of the Lake Palace, where life was a little less hectic and they could spend more time together as a couple.
Willow had become broody once Hari outgrew the nursery and turned into a leaping, bounding bundle of energy, no longer content to be cuddled for longer than ten seconds, unless of course he was ill or overtired. She had conceived quickly, and her second pregnancy was proving much easier than the first. She thought that was very probably because she was much less stressed this time and was able to rest whenever she liked.
‘You’re spoilt rotten!’ Shelley had teased her on her last visit to Chandrapur. She was able to see her best friend regularly now because Shelley had more holiday leave in her new job managing a small boutique hotel, which belonged to Jai’s cousins. In any case, Willow and Jai spent every spring and summer in London in addition to returning there every year to enjoy a special Christmas at the town house. And when Hari started school, they would be in London even more because Jai did not want his son to board as he had done until he was old enough to make that choice for himself. loz!
And Shelley had spoken the truth, Willow acknowledged with quiet satisfaction, because Jai did spoil her and he did make her very, very happy. He also built up her confidence where her father had continually taken her down. Only weeks ago, she had made her first public speech on behalf of the homeless charity she had chosen as closest to her heart from the many supported by the Singh Foundation. Jai’s words of praise had made her heart sing and nobody would ever have guessed by his demeanour that he had listened to her rehearse that same speech ten times over.
Now, meeting the arctic-blue intensity of his loving gaze, Willow had everything she’d ever wanted and much that she had not even dared to dream of having, because Jai loved her and their son as much as he loved being part of a family.
‘I am crazy about you,’ he husked as they descended the stairs to the noisy hubbub of their chattering guests. ‘I counted the days until I could come home, and home is always where you are, soniyaa.’
‘I love you too,’ she whispered dreamily as his hand engulfed hers, and she whipped round where she stood to claim his sensual mouth for herself again. ‘And on your birthday promise we’ll have a private party for two.’
‘We’re having a very private party for two when everyone’s gone home tonight,’ Jai assured her, soft and low, running a slow, caressing hand down over her taut spine, making her quiver…
Coming next month
THE SCANDAL BEHIND THE ITALIAN’S WEDDING
Millie Adams
“Why did you do it, Minerva?”
“I am sorry. I really didn’t do it to cause you trouble. But I’m being threatened, and so is Isabella, and in order to protect us both I needed to come up with an alternative paternity story.”
“An alternative paternity story?”
She winced. “Yes. Her father is after her.”
He eyed her with great skepticism. “I didn’t think you knew who her father was.”
She didn’t know whether to be shocked, offended or pleased that he thought her capable of having an anonymous interlude.
For heaven’s sake, she’d only ever been kissed one time in her life. A regrettable evening out with Katie in Rome where she’d tried to enjoy the pulsing music in the club, but had instead felt overheated and on the verge of a seizure.
She’d danced with a man in a shiny shirt—and she even knew his name because she wouldn’t even dance with a man without an introduction—and he’d kissed her on the dance floor. It had been wet and he’d tasted of liquor and she’d feigned a headache after and taken a cab back to the hostel they’d been staying in.
The idea of hooking up with someone, in a circumstance like that, made her want to peel her own skin off.
“Of course I know who he is. Unfortunately… The full implications of who he is did not become clear until later.”
“What does that mean?”
She could tell him the truth now, but something stopped her. Maybe it was admitting Isabella wasn’t her daughter, which always caught her in the chest and made her feel small. Like she’d stolen her and like what they had was potentially fragile, temporary and shaky.
Or maybe it was trust. Dante was a good man. Going off the fact he had rescued her from a fall, and helped her up when her knee was skinned, and bailed her out after her terrible humiliation in high school.
But to trust him with the truth was something she simply wasn’t brave enough to do.
Her life, Isabella’s life, was at risk, and she’d lied on live stream in front of the world.dpg!
Her bravery was tapped out.
“Her father is part of an organized crime family. Obviously something unknown to me at the time of her…you know. And he’s after her. He’s after us.”
“Are you telling me that you’re in actual danger?”
“Yes. And really, the only hope I have is convincing him that he isn’t actually the father.”
“And you think that will work?”
“It’s the only choice I have. I need your protection.”
He regarded her with dark, fathomless eyes, and yet again, she felt like he was peering at her as though she were a girl, and not a woman at all. A naughty child, in point of fact. Then something in his expression shifted.
It shamed her a little that this was so like when he’d come to her rescue at the party. That she was manipulating his pity for her. Her own pathetic nature being what called to him, yet again.
But she would lay down any and all pride for Isabella and she’d do it willingly.
“If she were, in fact my child, then we would be family.”
“I… I suppose,” she said.
“There will need to be photographs of us togeth
er, as I would not be a neglectful father.”
“No indeed.”
“Of course, you know that if Isabella were really my child there would be only one thing for us to do.”
“Do I?”
“Yes.” He began to pace, like a caged tiger trying to find a weak spot in his cage. And suddenly he stopped, and she had the terrible feeling that the tiger had found what he’d been looking for. “Yes. Of course, there is only one option.”
“And that is?”
“You have to marry me.”
Continue reading
THE SCANDAL BEHIND THE ITALIAN’S WEDDING
Millie Adams
Available next month
Copyright ©2020 by Millie Adams
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