Secret Vow (15 page)
Shaking off the undergarment, Brooke proceeded to unbutton her jeans. Hooking her thumbs under the side seams of her panties, she slid both garments down her legs and let them drop to the floor, then stepped out of them and kicked them aside. Ian’s eyes raked down and then up the length of her body, the fire in their depths all but consuming her. He reached for her again but she stepped back, holding him off with a hand pressed to his chest.
“Not so fast,” she said, her voice a sensual purr. “Don’t rush it. I want to enjoy every moment.”
Obeying, Ian stood still with his hands by his sides as she slowly unbuttoned his shirt and slid it over his broad shoulders. He was a beautiful man, sinewy and powerful. Resting her palms on his belly, she caressed the hot skin, taut over firm muscle, savouring each step of slow discovery as her hands drifted downward to unfasten his pants. She noticed his clenched fists, and the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he waited; once she nudged his pants down his legs, his desire for her made itself fully apparent, and the sight of it sent an electric pulse of excitement through her body.
Brooke drew him onto the bed, where they kissed and caressed one another, the leisurely glide of lips and hands over flesh building sweet anticipation. With tender patience they discovered how and where their touches most pleased one another. Now that there were no secrets between them—nothing in the way of the love in her heart and her desire for him—she surrendered herself fully to her passion.
Their lovemaking began tenderly, building in fervency and as the friction between them ignited a rising, urgent heat. They clung to one another, gasping in unison as exquisite pleasure crashed over both of them.
They lay together quietly until the sun went down. She gazed at Ian as the last beams of golden light illuminated the ends of his hair and sparked off his jade-like eyes. Warm and contented, Brooke stroked his arm lightly, feeling the fine, dark hairs rise under her touch.
Rising onto one elbow, he looked down at her, a tender smile touching his lips. “I have an idea for our honeymoon. Let’s find that little villa in Italy that you used to dream about.”
“Definitely.” Brooke grinned, reflecting on that fantasy from years ago, now transformed into a reality unlike anything she’d imagined. The boy she’d longed for in girlish dreams now lay in her arms, offering his heart and soul to her, and she would gladly hand over hers in return. Their adventure together was only beginning.
Releasing a long, easy breath, he stroked her hair, letting his fingers weave between the strands. “Brooke Eldridge, I think I’ve always loved you.”
She turned her face to kiss the tender underside of his wrist, then met his gaze with a soft smile. “I’ve always loved you, Ian McCarthy. And I always will.”
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EXCERPTS:
Divided Hearts
Faye turned to return to her room when Simon’s voice stopped her.
“We didn’t finish our conversation last night.”
She turned her head to look at him, catching her lip between her teeth briefly before replying. “I think more than enough was said.”
He took a step closer, one of his brows lifting skeptically. “You never really answered my question.”
Faye let out a slow breath. “You must know how I feel. But what I want and what I should do are two different things. I think Hannah saved us from making a mistake. Not that it wouldn’t have been … nice.”
Fantastic, you mean
. “But sometimes a little self-control is required. Look what happened with Jenna.”
Simon’s hands went to his hips, his eyes narrowing. “I’ve heard this lecture already from my mother and sister,” he said bitingly. “I didn’t expect it from you. Especially after all I’ve done to take responsibility for my daughter, once I was told of her existence.”
“I’m sorry,” Faye added quickly, regretting her words. “I don’t mean to lecture you. You’ve been wonderful. You are … wonderful.”
As the last word left her lips she turned again to head to her room. She made it to the doorway before he spoke again.
“Where are you going?”
“To get dressed.”
“Why the hurry?” In two paces he was beside her. She faced him to reply, but before she could his hands slid around her, snaking under her robe to encircle her waist.
Faye gasped in surprise. “Simon, please. I told you it doesn’t feel right.”
Despite her protest he held fast, his eyes ablaze. “Tell me
this
doesn’t feel right.”
Drawing her closer, he bent to cover her mouth with his, his lips claiming hers with unrestrained hunger. He tasted of coffee and syrup, warm and sweetly intoxicating. Surrendering, Faye melted against him, parting her lips to invite his deepening kisses. Not only did it feel
right
, it felt amazing. Letting her eyes fall closed, she succumbed to the urgent desire that electrified her body.
She had no idea how much time had passed when Simon broke the kiss, speaking in a voice ragged with longing. “I told you I’m used to having control over my life. But you have a power over me, Faye. I’m helpless in your arms.”
Far from helpless, he felt strong and vital against her, his luxuriant kisses having reduced her own limbs to rubber, while fuelling the insistent heat coiling in the pit of her stomach.
“Don’t go back today. I want you and Hannah to stay,” he murmured against her lips. “My world feels so complete with you here. Both of you.”
Wine & Roses
Taking her hand, Jason led to her to the dance floor and drew her close to him. Her slender body fit neatly against his, reminding him of the last time he had held her, half-naked in his swimming pool. Though this was quite a different situation, as his hand settled on the smooth fabric at the back of her dress, and her hand came to rest warmly on his shoulder, he found himself wishing everyone else in the room would simply disappear.
Abby tilted her face up to him, her amber eyes glimmering. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, we’ve already had a report of ghostly activity at the inn. An overnight guest said she heard weeping in her room, and later the sound of footsteps in the hall when no one was there.”
Jason quirked an eyebrow. “What do you make of that?”
“I chalk it up to an active imagination, but in any case it’s good for business. People can’t get enough of a good haunting. But the funny thing is, Rebecca’s portrait keeps falling off the wall.”
“On its own?” He remembered she had hung it in the upstairs hallway, in a carefully chosen spot between two of the guest rooms.
Abby nodded. “I can’t figure out why. There’s nothing wrong with the hook. But the manager keeps finding it on the floor in the morning.”
“Perhaps Rebecca doesn’t think it’s a good likeness,” Jason suggested, a teasing smile playing on his lips.
Abby replied with an appealing wrinkle of her nose. “Stop it. You don’t believe in ghosts, do you?”
“I like to keep an open mind,” he said, though he wondered whether staff at the inn might be playing a joke on the guests, and Abby as well.
“She
is
your ancestor. Perhaps you should spend the night there and see if you can feel her presence.”
“Perhaps you’d like to join me,” he added, his tone still light, though the words stirred up images from his imagination that were far from innocent.
“I think I will spend the night there sometime, to see for myself. In my own room, of course,” she added, her evocative smile sending a warm quiver down his spine.
“Naturally. I’d never suggest anything untoward.” His hand drifted up to smooth back several wisps of hair that had fallen loose to float about her ear. Lingering for a moment, in an impulsive gesture his fingertips lightly skimmed the curve of her cheek. At once he saw her colour deepen, and felt her arm grip his shoulder a little tighter.
“I didn’t expect so, being the gentleman that you are,” Abby said, her tone low and tinged with anticipation.
Cradling her hand against his chest, Jason could feel his heart pounding fast and heavy, and wondered if she could feel its beat through his shirt and jacket. He was beginning to feel too warm, his tie too tight around his neck. His gaze lingered on her delicate, full mouth, painted an enticing deep mauve, the lips slightly parted.
“And you being a proper lady,” he murmured, bending closer to breathe in her scent in a long, heady breath; as he did his lips grazed her cheek.
He felt her shiver, and then she turned her face to brush her mouth over his. Needing no further encouragement, he gathered her closer, his lips claiming hers is a soft, slow kiss. As her eyes fell closed, she let her head tilt back, allowing him to explore the soft sweetness of her lips at his leisure.
Healing Anna's Heart
Josh settled his gaze on Anna, searching her face. “We didn’t get a chance to talk yesterday at lunch. I wanted to apologize to you. About what happened … between us that morning.”
Anna shook her head. “You already did, and there’s no need.”
He rested his hand on her arm, letting it slide down the sleeve of her cardigan. “I care about you, Anna. The last thing I want to do is harm our friendship.” His gaze was tender, the conflict within him evident on his face.
“Honestly, Josh, it’s not a big deal,” she insisted, though her heart beat at a quickening pace. His nearness made her unsteady on her feet, as though she were struggling to stand on a ship pitching in a stormy sea. “I’m as much to blame as you. If you want to pretend it never happened, then that’s what we’ll do. Don’t give it another thought.”
Josh held her there, restraining her as much with his eyes as with the gentle squeeze on her arm. “So once again, I suppose it meant nothing,” he said, his tone hardening.
“That’s not what I meant. I just thought you’d rather forget about it, since you obviously feel it was a mistake.” The edge in Anna’s voice matched his, surprising her; after all, she’d regretted it as much as he had.
“A mistake, maybe, but it did mean something to me. Just as it did the first time I kissed you. I did have feelings for you, Anna, for a long time before that. But there was nothing I could do about it. You belonged to Ben.”
She had belonged to Ben.
The relevance of Josh’s words rang in her ears with sudden clarity. Ben had always been courteous and attentive, taking pleasure in having Anna on his arm at functions; he never tired of complimenting her beauty or spoiling her with gifts. But at the same time she couldn’t shake the sense that Ben had claimed her as his property. She never felt that he knew her heart, or understood her needs—or even realized the importance of these things. It was the reason she couldn’t see herself married to him.
She rested her palm on the lapel of his jacket, her heart swelling as she absorbed the rest of what he had just told her. Maybe her uneasiness with Ben had come from her longing for something more—the tenderness and understanding she’d seen in the eyes of another man, and then felt in his kiss.
“I didn’t know,” she said slowly. “I mean, the way you kissed me at the party, I knew there was something there. But I guess I figured it was the champagne, mostly. And you were upset about something that had happened at the hospital, not quite yourself.”
“It must be obvious that those feelings are still there, as much as I tried to push them aside after you left for Montreal.” Capturing her hand again, he pressed her palm to his chest, where she felt his heart throbbing beneath the crisp fabric of his shirt. “But I understand that you’re still grieving for Ben. I didn’t mean to add this complication.”
Anna let her gaze drift away, balling her hand into a fist against his shirt as her own chest ached. “There’s something you don’t understand, Josh. I’m not grieving for Ben. I mean I’m still so very sorry he died, but I’m not sorry we didn’t get married. Mainly I just blame myself for what happened.”
