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BOOK 3
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Being Yours BOOK 3
'You can't,' he said. 'Veronica has resigned. I need a housekeeper. You're my wife, as you've pointed out to me on more than one occasion. So for once, instead of causing me a problem, you can solve one for me.'Just as if I'm some interchangeable cog in his well-oiled housekeeping machine, Isabella thought disbelievingly. Yet, in a way, she wished she could stay. Brand would manage without her very well. But it would please her to run his house for him, to act as if she were his wife in more than name . . .No. She mustn't even think it. Brand didn't want her as his wife. He had made that abysmally clear.'I'm sorry. Brand,' she said with quiet resolution. 'But you'll have to solve your problem some other way.'When he only looked at her with his head lowered, as if he were a bull about to charge, she turned her back on him and started to leave the room.'Stay where you are,' he said.Isabella stopped, too startled to ignore him. Did he honestly think he had the right to tell her wha
Being Yours BOOK 3
'I'm sorry you won't change your mind,' she said, hiding her true feelings behind a gracious, lady-of-the-manor smile. 'But naturally I respect your decision. Goodnight, Veronica. I'll see you in the morning.'Veronica didn't answer, but as Isabella turned to leave from the corner of her eye she saw a change come over the other woman's face. One minute it had been composed and a little derisive. The next it was splotched with angry colour. Isabella hastened her pace and hurried out into the corridor.She wasn't fast enough. As she turned to close the door, a tube of lipstick hit her in the face. She gasped, put a hand to her cheek and started angrily back into the bedroom. But she had only taken a step when a voice behind her said, 'Hell,' and a pair of muscular arms closed around her waist. She kicked out frantically as her back was clamped against a man's solid body—a body that was all too familiar, even though, at this moment, she couldn't see it.'Brand!' Isabella exclaimed. 'What
Being Yours BOOK 3
'Yes/ replied Felix, holding his ground. 'I hope Belle will do me that honour.''Belle.' Brand managed to make Felix's nickname for her sound obscene.'That's what I call her.' Felix puffed out his chest, looking pleased with himself.Brand's mouth curved down as he turned to Isabella and drawled, 'Your suitor is obviously a man of imagination. I do see the appeal, of course, but don't you think he's a little old for you. Belle?''Now, listen . . .' Felix began to bend his knees in a boxer's crouch. 'I'll have you know—''No,' said Brand. 'I'll have you know that Isabella is still my wife and, as such, my responsibility—''I am not your responsibility,' Isabella interrupted hotly. 'I'm a grown woman and I'm responsible for myself.'Just for a second. Brand looked almost nonplussed. Then he laughed softly and said, 'So you are. Sometimes I forget.'When he turned back to Felix there was a look in his eye that Isabella had only seen there once before and when she saw a fist begin to bun
Being Yours BOOK 3
'What reason have you given me to trust you? You want it all, don't you, Isabella?' Brand's voice vibrating across the room was low, gravelly, giving her no hint that she had ever touched his heart.She closed her eyes so she wouldn't have to see the scorn she was certain would be written all over his face. When she opened them again he was standing up, and on the television a moon-faced cowboy was wailing a lament for lost love. As usual. Brand's body seemed much too big for the small room.'Yes.' She kept her voice level with a superhuman effort. 'Yes, I want it all. Brand.''Well, you're not going to get it,' he, said, almost conversationally. 'You ask too much of me, Isabella.'She didn't answer, but went on gazing at the point where his belt buckle bulged slightly beneath his sweater. The next thing she knew, his hands had closed over her wrists.'What's this?' he asked, his voice suddenly distorted, as if there was some further obstruction in his throat.'What's—oh.' She followe
Being Yours BOOK 3
In spite of her determination not to give Brand an inch, Isabella caught herself smiling too.'Daddy,' said Connie, frowning, 'you don't have a cat. And what's—what's ul—uliginous?''Growing in muddy and swampy places. Which would have described you nicely if I hadn't caught you. Now see here, Miss Ryder—'But Connie wasn't listening. Instead her big dark eyes were fixed on a fluffy white puffball nestled in an inside pocket of Brand's jacket. When the puffball started to squirm, and extended a black button nose, she let out a howl of delight that caused a passing and presumably deaf old gentleman to smile benignly, and his female companion to wince.'You've got a puppy!' she cried. 'Oh, he's so cute. Daddy, is he for me? Is he really?'Isabella's heart sank, and she felt a familiar urge to give Brand a good hard kick. Not that it was entirely his fault. She had meant to tell him a dog was impossible the first time the subject came up. But she hadn't done so because so much had happen
Being Yours BOOK 3
Brand eyed her sardonically. 'You already have my attention,' he assured her. 'As for the ducks—they aren't likely to relish the competition if you were thinking of going for a swim.'Isabella glared. Did he really imagine she had stumbled on purpose, in a bid to attract his attention? Just because, in the old days, it was exactly the sort of trick she might have pulled ...He responded to her glare with a grin so complacent it continued to irritate her all the way home.The two days of the weekend seemed longer than usual, and lonely, and when Brand brought Connie back on Sunday night Isabella looked at him as if he'd brought her a priceless gift. As indeed, in a way, he had.To her surprise he turned his head away, and she saw him clench his jaw as if he was in some kind of pain.'Toothache?' she asked sympathetically.He swung round to glare at her as if she had suggested he had fleas.'I promised Fluffy I'd go back to visit him next weekend,' Connie announced, happily oblivious to
Being Yours BOOK 3
Instinctively she tried to press closer. Brand wouldn't let her. 'No,' he said drily. 'I asked you to come as my partner. Not as inspirational copy for the morning papers. Behave yourself, Isabella.'How dared he? When she knew from the smouldering intensity of his eyes and the tension straining every muscle of his body that he too was aching with need. But then she had sensed from the moment he arrived at her apartment that his control was held in place by only the very finest of threads.'You don't have to take out your frustrations on me,' she said, not caring much if the thread snapped right here on the dance floor. If it did, then she too could let go.Brand's nostrils flared. 'Frustrations?' He spun her into a turn. 'What makes you think I'm frustrated?'She gave him a sugar-coated smile. 'Aren't you?''Damn you, Isabella.' The words were a roughly growled caress, and in the same moment the band brought the number to a close. When it started up again with a faster, more overtly
Being Yours BOOK 3
Of course she had wronged Brand by keeping his daughter's birth a secret. But his suspicions about Gary and Fehx had been without foundation. And how could he accuse her of blackmail?'Brand,' she said, not bothering to hide her resentment, 'I am not the juvenile idiot you seem to think me. I am well aware that affection, trust, love—whatever you want to call it—can't be won by blackmail or threats.''Good. In that case, don't ask for the impossible.'A beetle ran over her foot. She kept her eyes on it because she couldn't bear to look at Brand. If she did, she knew she would see his mouth flattened into that familiarly adamant line. She had no wish to confirm that the bond forged between them by last night's loving had faded with the unforgiving light of morning.'I'm not asking for anything,' she said.She wasn't either. She would love Brand to the end of her days, but it looked as though her love had finally defeated her. Coming back had been a mistake. What she ought to do now was
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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
