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BOOK 3
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2024-10-29 19:42:56Related chapters
Being Yours BOOK 3
'None at all.' Isabella began to move discreetly in the direction of the door.'Good. Good.' He made a noise like an engine that didn't want to start and levered himself slowly to his feet.Isabella edged round the arm of the sofa, but suddenly Felix stepped in front of her. 'It's been a pleasure. Belle,' he said in a throaty whisper.'Yes. Goodbye.' She stood to one side, giving him clear access to the door.'Just for old times' sake,' he said.'What?' She caught his intention just a second too late. As she started back Felix grabbed her by the shoulders, pulled her towards him and planted a damp kiss on her indignantly closed lips.Isabella drew away from him at once. But already something in the atmosphere had changed. The air was cooler and—and someone who wasn't Felix had just hiccupped. At least it had sounded like a hiccup. She wiped the back of her wrist across lips that tasted of beer.Soon she would have to turn her head towards the door. She didn't want to, because she alre
Being Yours BOOK 3
'Did you? By which time, I suppose, all signs of packing would have vanished and you'd have been able to break it to me gently. Was that the idea? Unfortunately for you, I finished my business earlier than expected.'Connie nuzzled her nose into Brand's neck. 'I'm glad you came early, Daddy,' she murmured, tightening her grip on his shoulders. 'Now we won't have to go to Edmonton, will we?''Of course not.' Brand unclasped her arms and lowered her gently to the floor.'Brand, you have no right to raise her hopes like that,' Isabella snapped. 'Connie, I'm sorry, darling, but it really isn't up to your father. You liked Edmonton before. You were happy there—''That was then. I didn't have Fluffy. Or my daddy.' Connie stuck out her lower lip and kicked mulishly at a worn patch on the carpet.Brand put his hand on the top of his daughter's head. 'Listen, sweetheart,' he said, in a voice that Isabella could tell he was having trouble keeping even. 'Your mother and I need to talk this over
Being Yours BOOK 3
'Yes,' he snapped.'Brand. It's Isabella—''So Mrs Crackitt said. What is it?'She wiped a thin film of moisture off her upper lip. 'It's Connie,' she whispered. 'Brand, she's disappeared.''What? What did you say? You'll have to speak up.''I said it's Connie.' Isabella was shouting now. 'She's disappeared.''Dis—What do you mean, disappeared?' He sounded more impatient than worried.Isabella explained. There was silence for a moment, and she felt as if she could actually hear him checking options and making snap decisions. Recriminations, she knew, would come later.'Right,' he said brusquely. 'You stay right where you are. In case she comes back. Have you called the police?''Not yet. I—''Then do it. And tell Edwina and anyone else who can help to keep on searching. I'll join them as soon as I can get there.'Brand was brisk, efficient and to the point. Isabella had no idea what he was feeling. Then he hung up.She passed the message to Edwina, who nodded, and left at once to get
Being Yours BOOK 3
'Yes,' she said. 'That's all. Goodnight Brand.'He didn't answer, but she thought she saw him frown in the dim light. Then suddenly he put his hand on the back of her head and drew her to him, crushing her Hps briefly and thoroughly before he let her go. Isabella knew, with an instinct that had rarely let her down, that this was Brand's way of telling her goodbye.'Goodnight, Isabella,' he said, as if it were any normal night. 'Sleep well.'Isabella was too worn out and too devastated to do anything but nod. Because it wasn't any night. It was the last time Brand would hold her in his arms.A branch snapped in the wind and came crashing to the ground behind her. Isabella jumped. She was on the beach, not leaning alone and empty in her doorway watching Brand drive off into the night.Oh, Mother of God! Had she made a terrible mistake? Were the wind and the waves trying to tell her something? She watched as two seagulls battled the updraughts to descend onto a patch of seaweed draped ov
Being Yours BOOK 3
'Forgive you?' She was bewildered now. 'But—Brand, I have nothing to forgive.'His mouth twisted. 'A week ago I might have agreed. A week ago I believed you were still the little man-eater I married in a fit of remorse, found myself falling in love with and then drove away one cold December night . . .' He started to reach for her, then his eyes narrowed and he let his hand drop back against his side. 'You're wearing my bracelet,' he said.Isabella felt the blood leave her face. Her heart was beating like the wings of a butterfly caught in a net. She took a step backwards and groped blindly for Brand's tall leather desk-chair. It had to be somewhere behind her.'What did you say?' she whispered, finding the chair and sinking into it.*I said, you're wearing my bracelet.'*Oh. Yes. It seemed—right.''It is right. I want you to wear it.'She smiled slightly. 'I'm glad. I want to wear it too. But I meant before that. Did—did I hear you say you found yourself falling in love? With me? I t
Being Yours BOOK 4
'Be careful,' Amy said. 'You're pulling.'Robert went on dragging her hair together in both his fists. When he had it tight, he pinned the two red hanks wide apart on the pillow and surveyed her naked body with satisfaction.'Not a freckle anywhere.''Yes, well, I stay out of the sun, don't I?' Amy jerked her head uselessly. 'Let go, will you?''You didn't stay out of the sun in Corfu.' He kept her hair pinned, and went on studying her in the glow of his parchment-shaded bedside lamp. 'The first thing I noticed about you was the way this -' he straightened her hair to its full length, almost reaching the abundant curves of her breasts - 'shone across the beach . . .''Stop it!' Amy prised at his hands, trying to free herself. 'That bloody hurts . . .'She hesitated, angry with herself for breaking her own rule. She had always been careful not to swear at all, first because of her younger brothers, then because of the young people she taught.At least it seemed to have worked, on this
Being Yours BOOK 4
He flung himself out of bed and stalked across the room, as sleek as a racehorse. Amy noted with something very like terror that he was still rampantly aroused and it was with relief that she watched him throw on his blue silk dressing gown, belt it, and drop into his leather bedroom chair, all in one superb movement.Tm asking you to share my life, not inviting you to a bloody vicarage tea party. I take it you don't like the idea?''Well . . .' Amy began, then went on hastily. 'There's my job . . .''Where on earth does that come into it?'Amy made no reply. In the three months they'd known each other he'd never let her talk about her work, so naturally he didn't realize how important it was to her.It was understandable, she supposed, trying to make allowances. After all, she hadn't known herself before she started what an absorbing job teaching could be.Seven years ago, David had married Jenny and brought her to live on the farm. At first Amy had been a little worried to have anot
Being Yours BOOK 4
With an effort, she raised her eyes and met the amber gaze. 'I'm . . . I'm so sorry,' she repeated.'All right, so you're sorry.'The hauntingly perfect features took on an expression she had never seen before. Staring up at them, Amy was reminded of the transformation scene in a werewolf film.'So,' he went on, 'what are you going to do about it?'With an effort of will, she dragged her gaze away from his, flung back the duvet, and stood up. 'I suppose I'd better be going . . .'She froze, realizing at once that it had been a bad move. But what else could she have done, she wondered desperately as she stood there exposed andhelpless; she had to get out of here somehow. In the heavy silence he went on staring down at her body, the muscles of his lean jaw slack with desire. Unable to bear it any longer, she turned her head away so sharply that her hair swished over her shoulders.'You bitch!' As if at a signal, he flung away his dressing gown and leapt at her, his greedy mouth pulling
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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
