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BOOK 5 PART TWO
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Being Yours BOOK 5 PART TWO
‘Nobody ever mentions little Michael’s father,’ Bella said into the thick silence that followed Lynne’s departure. ‘We think he must be dead.’ ‘I’m sorry,’ Cliff said, then looked at Louisa. ‘Truly sorry.’ ‘Not me you should apologize to,’ she growled, but when he began to rise, to offer his apology where he knew it was needed, she barked at him: to sit back down and eat. ‘Leave the girl alone. You’ve done enough damage for one night.’ He shoved his food around his plate until Louisa took it from him and replaced it with a slice of lemon meringue pie that quivered from the force of her slamming it before him. He took a bite. It tasted like glue in his mouth. He ate half of it before setting it aside and drinking the coffee the housekeeper poured. Then, with the other tenants busy doing whatever old ladies did in the evening, he took himself away from the scene of his stupidity, and walked for hours re-exploring the neighborhood he had once explored with Lynne at his side. As he s
Being Yours BOOK 5 PART TWO
Still, he felt he had to say, ‘I wouldn’t do either, of course. I’m not a violent man. At least, I don’t think I am.’ Though there was a time when he had been to protect himself when need be, and he knew if he had to he could kill to protect Lynne. There had also been that time he’d hit Logan to protect his mother’s honor. But he hadn’t been a man then. He’d been a boy, hot-headed and impetuous. ‘I don’t think you are either,’ Louisa said, getting up and going to fetch the coffee pot, filling both their cups again. ‘And I think what you said tonight did you as much damage as it did Lynne. Or, at least, her reaction to what you said.’ She gave him a penetrating look. ‘You’ve been hurt a lot during your lifetime. And you don’t like hurting others, probably because of that.’ He stared at her. ‘Do I have it written in red across my forehead or something? I was an emotionally battered child?’ Louisa laughed comfortably. ‘Didn’t Lynne tell you? I’m a witch.’ “No. She just said that you
Being Yours BOOK 5 PART TWO
Lynne swallowed the last bite of her pie — or possibly Cliff’s, since she’d eaten both pieces — and leaned back on the sofa, her stomach full, her eyes heavy with sleep. She knew she should get up and go to bed, but it was too nice, sitting here with Cliff close beside her. She breathed in the scent of his skin, felt the warmth of his body beside hers, looked far into the depths of his eyes and loved him, yearned for a lifetime of having him at her side. In only a few hours the kids would both be awake again. Her busy day would begin and there would . be no time for. . . them. And she knew they needed time, time to talk, to get to know one another properly. Time for her and Cliff. Would the month she had promised him be enough? Would a lifetime? Lynne gave Cliff a sleepy smile and said, “This is going to sound kind of dumb, coming from someone you’ve been married to for a couple of years, but how did you get from construction to accounting, and how come I never asked that kind of
Being Yours BOOK 5 PART TWO
‘You made me happy, Lynne. You made me laugh and enjoy life, despite all the tension I was under. I’d probably have been in a lot worse shape without you than with you.’ Especially if you hadn’t been pregnant, he didn’t say. ‘With Julia, the happiness was short-lived. I never felt I measured up to her expectations. Which, of course, was the case. She -’ Realizing Lynne hadn’t made a sound for several minutes, he asked, ‘Does it bother you, my talking about my marriage to her?’ Her only reply was a soft sigh, and he smiled, looked down and wondered how long she’d been asleep. He cradled her closer, and held her for another fifteen minutes, before sliding one hand under her knees and coming carefully to his feet, still holding her. ‘My bed or yours?’ he whispered, looking into her sleeping face. He knew whose bed he wanted to put her into, but knew just as well that if he did it, it might be the last time. It might ruin any chance he had of making headway with Lynne. Reluctantly, he
Being Yours BOOK 5 PART TWO
“Where’s Lynne?’ Cliff asked, having followed the aroma of freshly brewed coffee to the kitchen where he found Louisa alone, up to the elbows in flour as she kneaded bread dough. ‘Gone to the park,’ she said, taking the tray from him and glancing at the two empty glasses and the lemon-smeared plates. ‘Had a little midnight picnic, did you?’ Louisa set the dough into a bowl, covered it with a towel and rubbed the floury dough off her hands and arms. ‘Not me,’ said Cliff with a grin, as Louisa washed under the tap. ‘Lynne. She ate both pieces. Good . thing, too, because she needed her strength. Did she tell you that the kids were sick all night?’ ‘She told me,’ Louisa said with a dry smile as she set a cup of coffee in front of him and then tested the waffle iron with a bead of water. It danced high and she poured batter. Cliff sat back and listened to the sizzle, his mouth watering. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had homemade waffles. ‘She also told me you were up most of t
Being Yours BOOK 5 PART TWO
After a week and a half spending his mornings in the park and his afternoons oiling hinges, weeding vegetable gardens and other make-work projects he found for himself, Cliff was ready for a change. Change? He was ready to climb out of his skin! Dammit, he was bored! He glanced over at Lynne. Boredom was no problem for her. She sat on a blanket with Michael, trying to keeping him from wandering too far, getting up and chasing him when he did, both of them giggling and enjoying themselves. Cliff had a book with him, but he wanted something, anything, different from this. He wanted to go back to work. He wanted to talk to some men. He wanted to wish both Michael and Amanda on to another planet and take Lynne out to Galiano Island and make love to her for six days straight until neither of them could walk or talk or think. He did not want to be a friendly stranger who lived in rooms in her house, ate at her table, conversed in the evenings with three old ladies in the lounge, or Louisa
Being Yours BOOK 5 PART TWO
Cliff laughed, an easy, rolling, relaxed laugh that filled her heart with its goodness, making tears well up in her eyes again and run down into her ears as she flopped on to her back. ‘You’re such a pagan,’ he said, sitting up. ‘Hey, would you quit that?’ He caught a tear as it escaped from the corner of her eye. ‘I love you so much,’ she said with a watery smile. ‘And I thought for such a long time that I would never hear you laugh again.’ ‘Come back to me, Lynne,’ he said, pulling her up to cradle her against his body. ‘Be my wife again, in every way. I need you, too, your laughter, your love, your presence in my life to help me make sense of it all.’ Slowly, she nodded. ‘Yes. I was wrong, Cliff, in trying to keep us apart while you and Michael get used to each other. I know you won’t deliberately hurt any of us. And I know that if you’re given a chance you’ll learn to love him, and he you.’ ‘Thank you.’ Their kiss was one of solemn reaffirmation, a restatement of vows made nea
Being Yours BOOK 5 PART TWO
Cliff was far up the Coquihalla Highway before he realized it, driving with no destination in mind, just . . . driving. When he knew he could go no farther because fatigue blurred his vision, he pulled over and sat, head on the wheel, thinking, wondering where it had all gone wrong, what he’d done to screw things up again. If only he could tell Lynne the lie she so longed to hear. If only he could make himself believe that somehow, some kind of miracle had occurred and what she insisted was true was true. But... he could not. Presently, he turned his car and headed back toward the city of Vancouver. Hours later, as dawn broke, he was surprised to find himself parked outside the house where he had spent his first sixteen years. The drapes were drawn, the lawn neatly mowed, and a pickup truck was parked in the car-port with a ten-speed bike chained to a bolt in the wall beside the front steps. A basketball hoop hung high on the garage. A kid on a bike, broad strap of newspaper bag ac
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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
