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BOOK 3
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Being Yours BOOK 3
*I never hated you, Isabella.' Suddenly Brand looked very tired.'Maybe not, but you often told me I was a spoiled little brat.''Because you were a spoiled brat.' He shook his head, and she was astounded to see the beginnings of a bleak-looking smile. 'A brat with guts, though. You wrestled the English language to the ground with amazing speed.'Praise? From Brand? 'I had an English governess,' she reminded him. 'I already spoke English well.' When his eyes narrowed pointedly, she added, 'AH right, not as a Canadian would speak it. But I learned fast. I could have managed on my own within three months.''You didn't, though. We were together for more than ten months, as I remember.'Isabella became aware that the pressure of Brand's fingers on her wrist was beginning to send unwelcome shivers up her arm. Unwelcome and disturbingly seductive. A quiver of heat ran down her spine.But she didn't ask him to let her go.'Yes,' she agreed, not quite steadily. 'We were. I didn't leave becaus
Being Yours BOOK 3
'Is it?' Brand smiled blandly. 'All right. I'll agree to the surgery.'Isabella repressed a sarcastic rejoinder. It wasn't up to Brand to agree to anything. And she had a feeling he'd never really intended to oppose Connie's operation. He was just flexing his parenting muscles.This opinion was confirmed a moment later when Brand leaned forward and said peremptorily, 'Right. Second and most important point. Connie's my daughter. From now on I intend to be a part of her life.''Yes,' agreed Isabella, hearing the regret for lost years that simmered beneath the dictatorial words. She wasn't going to argue with him about that. Connie needed a father. Brand had that right. And Felix—Felix, as yet, had no rights.'Yes,' said Brand. 'And that means I expect to pay for her education, her upkeep and any extras she may need. I do not expect to pay one damn penny for you.'Isabella tried not to grind her teeth. 'I'm not for sale,' she said, pulling the cushion tightly against her chest.Somethin
Being Yours BOOK 3
The sound of her own voice made her start and, half laughing at herself, she stood up and marched into the kitchen to start the coffee.The past was done with. Tonight had been a fiasco. And in a couple of weeks, when Connie was over her operation, she would call Felix.When a hard little lump began to form in her chest she doused it with scalding hot coffee. Except that it turned out to be scalding hot water, because she'd forgotten to put the coffee-grounds in the pot.Brand stood in the doorway of the private hospital room he had insisted on for Connie, and watched Isabella bend over his daughter's bed.By rights, Connie should have been out of hospital the same day she went in, but there had been some problem with the anaesthetic and they were keeping her in for observation.He felt something lodge in his throat as, unnoticed by the other occupants of the room, he gazed at the slender figure of the mother of his child. She looked so young, so vulnerable as she smiled tenderly down
Being Yours BOOK 3
Brand ground out a word she had never heard him use before and hoped she wouldn't hear again. He dropped her wrist so abruptly that her forearm landed on the table with a crash, shaking glasses and rattling the knives and forks. Disapproving heads swivelled in their direction. Plucked eyebrows rose in civilized censure.Isabella turned away to stare into the bright flames leaping in the fireplace. After a while, when she realized Brand wasn't speaking, she forced herself to look up. He was staring at her as if she had just announced that she was Dracula's mistress come for her nightly snack.'What's the matter?' she demanded. 'I haven't said anything you didn't know already. And please, stop looking at me as if you expect me to sink my fangs into your neck.'Brand lifted his wine glass and leaned slowly back in his chair. 'You did that long ago,' he murmured, with just the barest flicker of a smile. 'And very pretty little fangs they were too. Efficient as well. You drew blood.'Isabe
Being Yours BOOK 3
'As a translator?''No. As a nanny to their two little boys.'Brand put his wine glass down with a thump. 'A nanny? Good grief. What did you do with them? You couldn't change a diaper in those days, for heaven's sake.''They weren't babies. I didn't have to change diapers. We got along very well.''Well I'm damned.' Brand shook his head. 'And did you teach them Spanish?'Isabella smiled ruefully. 'No. Their father spoke French, English and Cantonese. He seemed to think that was enough.''I see. And when it became obvious that you were pregnant? What happened then?'She crumbled a piece of flax bread and kept her eyes on her plate. 'The Brownson-Wings were very kind. They let me stay on, and when I had Connie they stood by me. I went on looking after the boys, and later they encouraged me to take courses—in business management and gourmet cooking, mostly. I was already a good cook, thanks to Judy. And then, once I was ready to start my own business, they helped by recommending me to th
Being Yours BOOK 3
So was hers.She shrugged irritably and turned back into the room to begin unpacking.When she went downstairs with Connie half an hour later, it was with a mixture of relief and disappointment that she learned Brand was no longer in the house.*He had some business to attend to at the airport,' Veronica said. 'Mr Ryder is a very busy man.'Who can't afford to waste his valuable time on riffraff like Connie and me, thought Isabella, noting the smug lift to the other woman's voice. She didn't think she much liked Veronica.'Yes,' she said sweetly. 'My husband has always been active.'She was rewarded by Veronica's quick frown, and after that she and Connie were left to their own devices. They heard the housekeeper's heels tapping smartly on the floor as she made her way along one of the polished hardwood corridors.They spent the rest of the afternoon exploring the extensive grounds, which, to Connie's delight, included a fishpond, natural woods and a swimming pool.By the time they re
Being Yours BOOK 3
The problem, he acknowledged grimly as put his head round the kitchen door, was that if he didn't take her into it again soon, he was likely to go out of his mind—or at the very least give her a chance to make a fool of him again. And he was damned if he meant to do that. One kick at the can was all his lovely wife was going to get.He told Mrs O'Brien about the milk, apologized gruffly for his lateness, and went into the dining room to eat. Alone.He'd had all he could take of Isabella Sanchez Ryder for one day.It was surprisingly warm for February, and Isabella was sitting on a bench by the fishpond when Brand came home from work the following day. Connie, quite recovered from her nightmare, was in the kitchen entertaining Mrs O'Brien.'You're early,' said Isabella, putting a surreptitious hand to her breast to conceal the sudden pounding of her heart. Her husband's formidable figure was advancing down the flagstoned path in an intimidatingly purposeful way. 'It's only four o'clock
Being Yours BOOK 3
Mairead nodded. 'So have I. So now, tell me—why did you find it necessary to leave my son? His precious principles certainly extend to taking responsibility for a baby.''Oh, I know. It wasn't Brand's fault. At least—I mean, he didn't know I'd had the baby.''Knew you'd left him, though. Must have noticed that. Why didn't he have the sense to fetch you back?''He didn't really want me back,' said Isabella, fidgeting with her yellow-checked placemat. 'And—I expect he told you I wrote him a letter from Edmonton to let him know I was all right—that I didn't need his help . . .''Hmm. But you did need him, didn't you?' The Irish eyes were extra bright.'Yes. Yes, I did. But you see, I had to learn to stand on my own feet.' She put her coffee cup down and leaned forward. 'Mrs Ryder, I'm sorry, so very sorry, that you and Brand missed Connie's early years. At the time I thought staying away was the best thing I could do. But now I'm not sure . . .' She lowered her eyes, afraid to look at th
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Being Yours BOOK 9
Lohano Tiki drove his bright yellow Ferrari up the long gravel incline and parked in front of the huge pillared portico that was the entrance to the Black Orchid Palace.He climbed out of the car, and quickly ducked down to check his hair in the wing-mirror.Good. Nicely wind-ruffled and carefree.A handsome, square-jawed face looked back at him, tanned a deeper colour by the desert sun.By the Nevadan desert sun, to be exact.His shirt was dazzling white and casually opened at the throat to reveal a strong dark column of neck and the first few wisps of dark chest hair.His jacket was white linen, faultlessly tailored, his slacks a dark green. His loafers came from Rome. His only piece of jewellery was a modest, leather-strapped watch from Switzerland.He was dressing to impress Koki’Hana as much as his rebellious and strong-willed granddaughter.He sprang lithely up the four rounded steps, that were spread out like a fan and led to the huge, impressive, carved oak doors of the palace
Being Yours BOOK 9
George Dixon watched the large crocodile of people emerge from the intermediary house by the east wall.As the owner of fifteen per cent of the Orchid House, he’d been asked to attend the full day’s festivities, of course, but he’d only just decided to put in an appearance.It was three-fifteen p.m.The extra waiters and waitresses hired for the lunch had been circulating in the grounds all afternoon, laden with trays of champagne, fruit juice and little nibbles. He hijacked a waiter and grabbed a glass of cold Moet et Chandon and a few smoked salmon pastries that melted in the mouth.He was lounging against the fountain that was the centre-piece of the outer grounds. Round, made of stone, and full of fish and water-lilies, it shot a fountain of water nearly thirty feet into the air.It was cooler there.George didn’t much like the heat. He was a small but very fat man, with a round belly and short, stocky legs. He could only imagine what the heat must be like inside the hot-houses.G
Being Yours BOOK 9
King Koki’Hana reached the end of the welcoming line, and finally shook hands with the last person to be presented - a tall, thin Portuguese man, whom Electra had introduced as their head groundsman. It was his job to keep the gardens outside the glasshouses looking good.Koki’Hana quite liked meeting the people who made businesses tick. Oahu, like all the islands, was a large ethnic mix of people - Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Filipino, Polynesians, Portuguese and American. Here at the Orchid House, he was pleased to see that Electra Stapleton’s only criterion for picking her staff was their having the right qualifications for the job. He operated a similar policy where his own business affairs were concerned.‘Well, Alii Koki’Hana, I’m sure you can see now why the Orchid House is such a success,’ Electra said quietly. ‘My staff are simply the best in the world.’ She said with it quiet pride but total sincerity.King Koki’Hana nodded. ‘So I see. And you are rapidly expanding, I underst
Being Yours BOOK 9
Bevis expertly aligned the small light aircraft with the portable runway lights Electra had lit ten minutes ago, and lightly touched down. He taxied neatly to the end of the runway, turned, and then parked the plane near a stand of hua trees, where it was partially hidden.He went through his checklist, making sure all the systems were shut down, then locked the cockpit, grabbed his overnight bag, and jumped lithely to the ground.At thirty-eight, he looked a good ten years younger, and still retained the well-built but fat-free body that would be the envy of many men his age. His short hair was still as dark as a raven’s wing, with not a hint of grey at the temples.He gathered up the landing lights, turning them off as he went, and stowed them away in their small wooden shed, hidden in the small copse of trees, padlocking the door after him.During the short walk to Electra’s luxurious bungalow, ‘Makai Hale’, he ran a tired hand through his hair. It was good to have a break from the
Being Yours BOOK 9
Electra stroked the damp copper hair off his forehead and looked around desperately. There was only the diminishing storm, darkness and fear. She couldn’t move him - she wasn’t strong enough to get him into her car. Besides., she didn’t know if she should move him, and wished she knew more basic First Aid.She felt as if she’d been cradling the stranger in her arms forever, but it had actually been less than five minutes since the lightning strike.The rain had been gradually dwindling, and now had stopped altogether, but she could still hear the distant rumble of thunder, away to the east, as the storm headed out to sea.Suddenly another sound began to impinge on her mind, and she looked up hopefully as a small set of lights dipped and disappeared in the distance.A car! At last!Coming from the same direction as she had been. Somewhat belatedly, she realized her own car was still blocking the road, and she carefully lowered the stranger’s head to the ground and got to her feet.Her
Being Yours BOOK 9
Hawaii, or the Big Island as it was known to the locals, played host to fewer tourists than its sister island Oahu, but boasted similar moutainous lush greenery, great surfing and multi-cultural dining, all with the added bonus of spectacular black beaches, courtesy of the volcanoes.A mountainous land of plantations, myth and Polynesian mystique, it slumbered like a giant emerald in the vast blueness of the Pacific ocean.However, Hilo, its major city, was as big, busy and cosmopolitan as any city in the developed world.The Big Island, like all those in the chain, also had its fair share of hotels and tourist resorts, but, unlike Oahu, it still relied heavily on the more traditional sources of money, such as fruit plantations and coffee, to fill its coffers.Near the pretty village of Kailua, set well back in the coolness of the hills, away from the hustle and bustle of hotels and shops, lay the impressive and sprawling edifice of the Black Orchid Palace.No higher than two storeys,
Being Yours BOOK 9
Electra Stapleton turned the last page of the contract she was reading, and initialled it in the right-hand corner. She’d made a few important changes, and she made a mental note to herself to get one of her lawyers to draw up a revised draft.Not that Nationwide Flowers Inc. would complain. She’d given them all they wanted, but had cleverly slipped in a few little goodies that would be beneficial to the Orchid House too.For instance, ensuring that their chain of florists used one of the Orchid House’s flowered wrapping sheets whenever they sold one of their orchids. The free publicity that would generate would save her hundreds of thousands of dollars. And cost Nationwide Flowers not a penny.She was a bit worried about the shipment date, though; it was rather tight. She reached for her computer keyboard and punched up the details on the company’s regular transporters. Before she’d taken over, the Orchid House had had only one - a privately owned aeroplane company that had shipped a
Being Yours BOOK 9
Haldane Fox glanced up as the oddly melodious 4 ping 5 echoed around the cabin.‘Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. We are now beginning our descent to Honolulu Airport. Please observe the “No Smoking” signs, and “Fasten Seat-belts” signs. Your cabin crew will be around to help anyone having difficulty with their belts. I trust you enjoyed your flight with us, and wish you all a pleasant stay on Oahu. Aloha'Haldane sighed wearily and reached for his seatbelt. It had been a long flight, from London to New York for a short stopover, then on to LA for yet another stopover before the long haul across the mighty Pacific Ocean to the fabled Hawaiian Islands.He yawned widely, trying to shrug off the fast-approaching affects of the dreaded jet-lag.A stewardess, the same one who’d been serving him throughout the flight across the pacific, lingered by the side of his seat.‘Everything alright, sir?’The soft voice made him spin his head and look up. The stewardess’s smile caught in her th
Being Yours BOOK 8
By the time they arrived at the hotel, the security gate had been forced open, and a fire engine and two police cars were in the parking area. Apart from the fact that the firemen had broken down the main door, to all other outward appearances the Alcaszar appeared to be untouched. It wasn’t enough to stop Matt from leaping from the car and running across to the main doors where a group of firemen was standing, though.By the time Alex joined them, however, he appeared to be calm. “It’s only damaged the courtyard,” he told her. “Apparently it started among the wood that was stacked there, probably caused by a careless cigarette butt. They say it’s probably been smoldering for hours.”From the tone of his voice Alex knew immediately that he didn’t believe it was accidental but that he wasn’t prepared to talk to the police about his suspicions. She glanced up at him. His eyes had darkened to the steely gray that she now knew from experience was a sign that he was very angry. She took hi
