Jazz Baby (19 page)

She tilted her head up to look at his face; she might as well hear now, then she could get on with becoming a singer. Dark stubble lined his jaw and his eyes glowed catching pinpricks of light from the starburst hanging from the ceiling. She'd miss him, miss his friendship and…well…and him. She stared, long and hard, intent on imprinting his face in her memory, knowing this would be her last chance.

‘Oh.' Her voice came out in a high-pitched squeak; his patronising smirk should have annoyed her instead it did funny things to her stomach and made her lick her lips again and swallow.

‘Stand up, Dolly.' Jack reached out, palms up.

She studied his hands. Hands that had saved her and soothed her so many times, hands that had sent such delicious tremors through her, made her feel like the woman she wanted to be. Unable to resist she reached out to him.

The simple frisson of his touch inflamed her skin, turning it inside out as heat blossomed under the surface. He drew her closer making her heart thud like a hammer in the most peculiar manner. They were so close a piece of paper couldn't slide between them. She bit down on her lip remembering the way he'd peeled her arms from around his neck in the Blue Room. Not this time. She wouldn't do it again.

Her nipples pebbled beneath her frock, painful and hard, pressing against the soft silk; she pulled her hands free and clamped her palms across her agonising response. And she'd been worried about people seeing through her frock and wanted a petticoat. This was ten times worse. Jack would know what he was doing to her, how her body was reacting.

He reached down and lifted her hand slowly raising it to his lips and kissing her palm with soft fluttery little touches. What was that supposed to mean? If he thought to calm her he couldn't be further from the truth. The touch of his lips made every inch of her skin tighten and burn as though a bushfire was raging through her body.

Gently he lifted her chin forcing her to look into his eyes. ‘It's you, Dolly. No one else. Just you.' His breath whispered against her lips as his fingers threaded through her hair, cradling her head, drawing her mouth to his. She tasted the brandy sweetness of his breath and the tip of his tongue asked questions she couldn't answer. The tiniest of whimpers and the barest of tremors shook her as his tongue slid out of her mouth and licked her lower lip. This was nothing like their other kiss. A thrill shivered across the nape of her neck and something more, something akin to longing travelled the long length of her spine.

When he traced a slow trail of kisses along the line of her chin and below her ear her treacherous body arched against him. She crushed her aching breasts against the solid mass of his chest.

Jack's breath came in gasps as rapid as her own and when his fingers slid to her shoulders and snagged on the straps of her camisole she thought she would die. A whimper sneaked from her throat and his warm, welcoming mouth returned to hers. This time her tongue met his dancing and delving with a mind of its own. She stretched and rubbed catlike against him, drowning in their combined warmth.

He laid his lips alongside her ear, his breath sending an indecent swirl of something inexplicable to places she'd barely ever thought of. ‘Do you still want to be my girl?'

The dark stubble lining his jaw rasped against the sensitive skin of her cheek and this time her arms stayed around his neck; he didn't move them and she had no control over her actions. Her fingers threaded through the short hair at the nape of his neck as she pressed her lips against his.

His gaze dropped to where her dress sat snugly against her breast. The silky material heaved with every laboured breath. His nostrils flared, then he raised his eyes to her face and threw her an apologetic grin.

‘There's just one thing before we go any further, Dolly. I have to ask permission of your family.'

She loved the sound of her name on his tongue and she cared nothing for permission or families. This was the twenties, she was a woman. Smiling contentedly she beamed up at him, slicking her tongue across her lower lip. ‘I don't have a family. Why ask permission?'

‘You have a brother.' A smile played over his lips and his chest rose as he sucked in a deep breath.

‘Oh yes, but he won't mind.' Warmth swirled in her belly, her mind so far from her brother she couldn't imagine why Jack would even mention him.

He bent close to her ear and whispered, ‘And a husband if you'd like one.'

The reflection of the sunburst winked at her from the plate glass window as his words finally made sense. ‘I would,' she murmured, wrapping herself around him, her heart full to bursting, ‘if you care to marry a singer.'

THE END

Lily's Leap
by Téa Cooper

From Escape Publishing's Queen of historical Australian romance comes a new story about a privileged member of Australian's colonial squattocracy, a bushranger, and a very special horse.

Born into the rough, but still privileged society of the Australian colonial landowners, Lilibeth Dungarven finds herself married, widowed, and, much to her distress, back under her father's thumb, all before her twenty-first birthday. Determined not to forgo her dream of breeding the perfect racehorse, Lilibeth ignores propriety and sets out to restore the family's flagging fortunes.

When Captain Tom and his mismatched band of bushrangers stumble across a mob of the best horses they've ever seen, and the daughter of the famed Dungarven horse stud, they know their fortunes have changed. Their catch is worth a king's ransom. All they have to do is hold the daughter for seven days. How hard will controlling a pampered farmer's daughter be?

 

An unconventional woman clashes with colonial society in this spicy and sweet Australian-set historical romance.

His carefree bachelor days over, Christopher Matcham returns to Sydney to take responsibility for his mother, two stepsisters, and the family property. Fortune smiles on him when he is introduced to Matilda Sweet, a woman in need of work. Though unusual, Christopher senses that her fresh ideals and positive outlook can only benefit his sisters, so he hires her as a companion.

By the time they arrive at Christopher's family home, the two are fast friends. But Matilda's unorthodox ways and her convict heritage make her a second class citizen to the family. Christopher has responsibilities, and they include an advantageous match. A breeches-wearing, fish-pond-swimming, plain-talking convict's daughter will never figure in. After all, romance is a luxury the upper classes cannot afford…

 

Curb your
Outlander
cravings with Allison Butler's seriously sexy Scottish novel about an English woman, a Scottish Laird, a case of mistaken identity and a love that will surpass all barriers.

An outcast in her own home for as long as she can remember, Lynelle Fenwick will do anything to earn her father's approval. Including exaggerating her healing skills, and setting off alone to rescue her step-brother from a band of raiding Scots.

Living under a curse that has haunted the Closeburn Clan for years, Laird William Kirkpatrick, will do anything to save his sole surviving brother. He may not believe in curses, but his clan does, and the growing number of graves seems to support their side. Having banished all healers from the clan for trickery, he has no choice but to allow an Englishwoman, claiming to be a skilled healer, into his home and into the room of his wounded brother.

Enemies by birth and circumstance, they can only succeed together. But blood runs deep, and tensions high. What matters the desires of a heart?

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ISBN: 9780857991928

Title: Jazz Baby

Copyright © 2014 by Téa Cooper

All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises (Australia) Limited, Level 4/132 Arthur Street, North Sydney, NSW, Australia, 2060.

All 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 incidents are pure invention.