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BOOK 7
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2024-10-29 19:42:56Related chapters
Being Yours BOOK 7
With his fingers spread, he skimmed his palm up her side until he grazed the full curve of her breast. She didn’t trust him completely. He understood that, and would do whatever it took to change her mind. Because she was the last person he’d ever want to hurt.In a voice that demanded an answer, he asked, ‘Do you want me?’Her expression softened, and she closed her eyes. ‘Yes,’ she whispered. Then she met his gaze, and her eyes were bright with appeal. ‘But I don’t want to be hurt.’A pent-up breath shuddered out of him. ‘That makes two of us. But if you want me to stop and take you to your car, you need to tell me. Now.’ He thought he should earn extra points in heaven for asking.Her fingers slid into his hair and gripped his head. Her eyes glazed, shining as if a light burned inside her. She drew him closer, holding his gaze until his lips touched hers with a sweetness that bordered on devastating. He kissed her again, then again, the urgency building as she told him without word
Being Yours BOOK 7
Thunder rumbled the walls of his bedroom, pulling Jackson from his light doze. He was on his back with Rachel curved into his side, her head tucked against his shoulder. Her steady breathing warmed his neck as she slept. Moments before her eyes had slipped shut with exhaustion, she’d burrowed her fingers into his chest hair, then nestled against him, fitting her body to his as if it were the most natural thing for her to do. Since she’d never had sex before, he knew there was nothing natural about the act. But then they hadn’t had sex ; it had been something . . . else. Something that defied description.He had no idea how long they’d slept, but he thought it hadn’t been more than an hour. He didn’t want to risk waking Rachel by twisting around to look at the clock on the nightstand to find out. Gray shadows sealed the room. He couldn’t tell if the lack of light was due to the approaching dusk or the storm clouds that had gathered over the city during the day. Hearing the soft tapping
Being Yours BOOK 7
Jackson stood in the doorway to Penny’s apartment, frowning as he surveyed the destruction. His first impulse was to locate the maintenance office and request a shovel, but he refrained and instead took mental notes. The place looked ransacked, or perhaps a bomb had gone off, leaving the walls and ceiling intact but destroying everything else. Or maybe someone had left in a big hurry.Half of the cushions of the yellow and orange striped couch were on the floor; the others were buried beneath layers of clothing, towels and plates stuck with stale, half-eaten food that he estimated were at least a week old. In the dim light, he couldn’t see enough of the carpet to determine what color it was supposed to be, but he guessed a murky brown.The suffocating smell of debris and musty air infused the room. Wads of paper, Styrofoam cups and cereal boxes littered the small kitchen table to his left. Three of the red vinyl chairs were askew; the fourth was turned over. Was it on its side because
Being Yours BOOK 7
The abrupt ringing of the phone stopped Jackson in mid-step. Rachel tensed in his arms as her head came up off his shoulder with a jerk. Without a word, he set her on her feet and grabbed his jeans from the floor as she ran for the kitchen. He heard her soft voice answer, then silence. He zipped up his pants without buttoning them and joined her.She held the receiver to her chest with both hands, then reluctantly held it out to him. ‘It’s for you.’ He took the phone. Without bothering to ask who it was, he asked, ‘What did you find?’‘It took a while,’ Derrick said, ‘but we traced them to a charter that took them to Mexico, Puerto Vallarta to be exact.’‘They?’‘Yeah. Penny and her boyfriend, Mark.’‘Have you found where they’re staying?’‘Not yet.’ Derrick sighed. ‘They’re not using credit cards, so we haven’t been able to trace them.’ Jackson met Rachel’s anxious gaze. ‘What about a return flight?’‘Nothing. Puerto Vallarta is a hot tourist spot, but there’s nothing but mountains a
Being Yours BOOK 7
Leaning over Rachel’s chair, Jackson braced his hands on the wooden arms and whispered against her ear, ‘You look troubled. Is there anything I can do to help?’Her soft intake of air told him he’d startled her. He hadn’t meant to sneak up on her, but she’d been so absorbed in the three cards on the table, he could have entered the room yelling and she wouldn’t have noticed.She turned her head, bringing her lush mouth within inches of his. Too close for him not to do something about it.Before he could kiss her, she said, ‘Troubled? Whatever would give you that idea?’‘You’re frowning.’She forced her brow to smooth. ‘If I were in trouble, Jackson, what would you do to help me?’With the need to touch her spreading to every part of his body, he tightened his hold on the chair before he did something that would embarrass them both. He’d known better than to get to close to her. How often had her rich, addictive scent reduced him to a state where nothing mattered except loving her with
Being Yours BOOK 7
Rachel gathered her cards and stored them in their box. Securing them in her purse, she vaguely registered the clink and rattle of dishes and the hurried steps of servants carting away trays of uneaten food. The hushed conversation among the musicians as they packed their equipment replaced the earlier sounds of music and laughter. It was nearly one in the morning, and she felt the effects of every minute she’d spent smiling, reading cards, and assuring people who had everything that they would have more.She couldn’t precisely recall what she’d told her clients. She hadn’t been able to focus after her sister’s sudden reappearance. Jackson’s comment about its being bad timing was like calling a hurricane a passing shower. If her sister had the bad judgement to leave without word, why had she chosen tonight to return? Rachel didn’t want to believe Penny had anything to do with the thefts, but her return seemed too perfect to be a coincidence.She’d also hinted that she’d done something
Being Yours BOOK 7
Jackson shoved the door to the control room open and crossed directly to Richie Collins, one of seven night technicians who manned a select group of accounts. Jackson had phoned from his car, instructing Richie on what he wanted done before he reached the office. If the younger man had thought it odd that the boss was coming in at four in the morning, he hadn’t let on.Rounding the half-circle desk that contained a fleet of monitors, Jackson said, ‘Tell me what you found. And it better be good.’‘We picked up something, but I don’t know how much it’ll help.’ Richie tapped on his keyboard,bringing up one window after another. Then, one monitor blanked to gray snow. The screen rolled and displayed a hazy black and white image of Rachel’s living room.‘What’s wrong with the picture?’ Jackson ran a hand through his hair, then leaned over the technician to use the keyboard to try and sharpen the picture. Nothing worked. ‘Shit.’‘My guess is that the RF signal from the camera needs adjusti
Being Yours BOOK 7
Rachel came to an abrupt halt by the door reserved for prisoners and stared in horror at the crowded courtroom. Behind the table where her attorney sat, leaning back in his chair with a bored expression on his plain face, her mother, Penny and Mark sat together, hands linked in the first row of wooden benches.Excited murmurs rose, then were cut off as if a dozen invisible hands had simultaneously clamped over everyone’s mouths. She felt a dozen pairs of eyes turn to her. People she recognized. Mrs Gibbons, the Donaldsons, Senator Hastings, all watched her with silent condemnation. They were clients who’d shopped in her store, women whose cards she’d read, civic leaders whom she’d helped raise money for charity. Everyone present had been a victim in the crimes. Was that why they’d jammed into the courtroom? To ensure justice was served?Linda sat beside the senator, her hands clenched in her lap, a frown pulling at her full mouth. Biting down on her lip, she looked about the room and
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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
