by Kate Walker
‘No, Raoul, you took nothing from me.’
‘I did.’ It was raw and ragged, his hand coming up in a gesture of surrender. ‘Everything I did was wrong. I ruined your wedding plans, I behaved like a monster and I destroyed the future of the stud—your father’s freedom. If you’d married Adnan...’
‘But the truth is that I could never—would never—have married him,’ Imogen admitted, knowing there was no way forward but the truth. ‘Even if you hadn’t turned up, I could never have gone through with it. I knew that. I was thinking it already in the church, that day you found me. And then when I saw you there—well, nothing was the same after that. I don’t know what I would have done, what I could have done, but, once I remembered that you were in the world, how could I ever marry another man?’
‘But...’ It was just a croak of sound, of disbelief.
‘Yes, I know. There was everything Adnan had promised me—and everything I’d promised him. But how could I go through with that? How could I marry him, have his baby, when the only child I ever wanted was the one we made between us? The one that...’
‘Oh, mon Dieu!’
Raoul was moving forward, enfolding her in his arms, holding her tightly. The briefcase fell to the floor and the papers she still held were crushed between them.
‘Imogen—I wish I’d known.’ The thickness of his tone told her of the emotion that clogged his throat, and the rough, unsteady pulse of his heart underneath her cheek revealed the struggle he was having for any degree of composure.
‘I wish I had known. I wish I could have done something.’
‘There was nothing anyone could have done.’ It was barely a whisper, buried in the protective cave of his arms, but she knew he had heard it when she felt the heavy, raw intake of his breath and the sorrowful nod of his head in acknowledgement.
‘But I could at least have been there.’
‘And how I wish you had been. We both lost so much that day.’
‘Because I listened to the wrong person,’ Raoul admitted, the words rasping desperately.
‘You’d been hurt—badly. I never realised quite how badly until I came here and saw...’
From under his arms her hand waved unsteadily, taking in the luxurious surroundings, the huge estate beyond the glass doors. ‘It must be so hard to know whether someone wants you for you—or for...’ Her voice sank even lower. ‘Or for this.’
Slowly, carefully, she eased from his grasp, lifting her head so she could look into his eyes and meet that questioning gaze head-on.
‘That’s why I had to bring this back to you.’
Raoul’s burning eyes went down to the documents she held. The legal forms that sorted out the whole sorry mess that she and her father had been. Financial provision for the stud, the stallion Blackjack and the small fortune needed to pay her father’s debts, and keep them solvent for many years to come.
‘I can’t take it, Raoul—I don’t want it.’
‘But how will you manage if you don’t? I wanted to give it to you. I wanted you to have it. I wanted to try to repay all the wrong that I’d done you. The way I rejected you. It will never be enough...’
‘No,’ Imogen agreed and she saw the way that shock landed like a blow on his face, bringing his head up high and sharp. ‘No, this is not enough, Raoul.’ She smiled sadly. ‘And it will never be.’
‘Then what else do you need? How can I make sure that you’re happy going forward? How can I give you everything you need?’
‘You can’t.’
‘But I will. I’ll try. Just ask and—’ he began, but she reached up a hand to lay it across his mouth, closing his lips, silencing him.
‘There isn’t enough money in the world to give me everything I need,’ she told him, turning her hands so she was holding onto his arms, feeling the warmth of his skin, the strength of powerful muscle even through the papers she still held. ‘Because money won’t do it. Money can never do that.’
She knew her words had hit home when she felt his total stillness, the tension that held his muscles taut, his long body pressed against hers.
‘You don’t want...’
It was as if he was exploring his thoughts, and trying to discover hers, finding his way slowly through a mass of confusions; travelling blind, as if he was afraid to find that the truth he’d thought he was aiming for was in fact something entirely different. And it was that hesitancy that made her heart swell with the thought that she’d judged him right and he really understood.
‘I don’t want anything that money can buy,’ she assured him. ‘How can that give me everything I need when what I need...’
At this last moment her nerve almost failed her and she had to snatch in a hard, strengthening breath in order to be able to continue.
But when she looked into his face, and saw the beginning of hope start to flare in the depths of his eyes, she knew she’d made the right move, staked all her future on the right hope. The answer to what she needed was right here in front of her.
‘You said you wanted to make sure that I’m happy going forward. And the truth is that the only way I can be happy going forward is if you go forward with me.’
‘You want me?’ It was just a breath.
‘I want you.’ His faintness made her strong and the declaration was brave and bold, joy spreading along every vein, every nerve, bringing a brilliant, assured smile to her face.
‘I want you. And only you. I love you, Raoul. You are my future—the only life I want is with you.’
‘And me with you.’
Raoul rubbed a hand across his eyes, blinking hard as he focused on her uplifted, intent face.
‘Is it possible? Can we really try again? Begin afresh? Can we have a future?’
Imogen felt her lips curve into the smile that was growing inside her heart.
‘Why not try?’
She hadn’t even finished speaking before he was down on one knee before her, holding her hand tight, looking up into her face with an expression that spoke of a near-desperate hope, a longing to get this right.
‘Imogen, will you do me the real honour of being my beloved wife? For today, tomorrow, our future? Our life?’
‘I will. Oh, Raoul, yes, I will—but...’
She’d shocked him now and she saw the hope leave his eyes and darken his face, so she had to hurry to reassure him.
‘But I can’t promise a baby.’
‘Sweetheart...’
He was on his feet in a moment, holding her close.
‘My darling—you are the only person I ever want a child with, and if it happens, then I will be the happiest man in the world. But, if it’s not to be, then you are still the only woman I want to have as my wife, to go into the future with.’
His lips came down on hers, crushing back all the fears, erasing all the doubts and replacing them with hope and happiness.
‘You are my love, my life,’ he said when at last he had to lift his head to snatch in a much-needed breath. ‘And together we can create a world worth living in.’
‘Our world,’ Imogen echoed, soft and sure. ‘Our world—together.’
* * * * *
Coming soon
BOUND TO THE SICILIAN’S BED
Sharon Kendrick
Rocco was going to kiss her and after everything she’d just said, Nicole knew she needed to stop him. But suddenly she found herself governed by a much deeper need than preserving her sanity, or her pride. A need and a hunger which swept over her with the speed of a bush fire. As Rocco’s shadowed face lowered towards her she found past and present fusing, so that for a disconcerting moment she forgot everything except the urgent hunger in her body. Because hadn’t her Sicilian husband always been able to do this—to captivate her with the lightest touch and to tantalise her with that smouldering look of promise? And hadn’t there been many nights since they’d separated when she’d woken up, still half fuddled with sleep, and found herself yearning for the taste of his lips on hers just one
more time? And now she had it.
One more time.
She opened her mouth—though afterwards she would try to convince herself she’d been intending to resist him—but Rocco used the opportunity to fasten his mouth over hers in the most perfects of fits. And Nicole felt instantly helpless—caught up in the powerful snare of a sexual mastery which wiped out everything else. She gave a gasp of pleasure because it had been so long since she had done this.
Since they’d been apart Nicole had felt like a living statue—as if she were made from marble—as if the flesh and blood part of her were some kind of half-forgotten dream. Slowly but surely she had withdrawn from the sensual side of her nature, until she’d convinced herself she was dead and unfeeling inside. But here came Rocco to wake her dormant sexuality with nothing more than a single kiss. It was like some stupid fairy story. It was scary and powerful. She didn’t want to want him, and yet…
She wanted him.
Her lips opened wider as his tongue slid inside her mouth—eagerly granting him that intimacy as if preparing the way for another. She began to shiver as his hands started to explore her—rediscovering her body with an impatient hunger, as if it were the first time he’d ever touched her.dpg!
‘Nicole,’ he said unevenly and she’d never heard him say her name like that before.
Her arms were locked behind his neck as again he circled his hips in unmistakable invitation and, somewhere in the back of her mind, Nicole could hear the small voice of reason imploring her to take control of the situation. It was urging her to pull back from him and call a halt to what they were doing. But once again she ignored it. Against the powerful tide of passion, that little voice was drowned out and she allowed pleasure to shimmer over her skin.
Continue reading
BOUND TO THE SICILIAN’S BED
Sharon Kendrick
Available next month
www.millsandboon.co.uk
Copyright ©2018 Sharon Kendrick
