by Maggie Cox
Remembering the boy Mark at the children’s home, Nash allowed himself the faintest smile of agreement. Would he be telling him the same thing in a few years’ time? He prayed that he would. In the meantime he would be proud enough to be his mentor and friend.
Glancing down at his watch, Nash smiled even wider as his gaze helplessly returned to Freya.
‘I don’t know how many hours it’s been between kisses, but I don’t intend waiting another second longer before I steal one.’
Angling his head to meet her lips, he kissed her full on the mouth, heat pouring through him in a blaze of hunger and desire as she opened for him and her tongue danced silkily with his. Then he led her to the generous king-sized bed that dominated the room, and with softly urgent sighs and eager touches they undressed each other and climbed beneath the duvet. Covering her delectable feminine contours with his own more hard-muscled form, Nash paid silent homage to her earthy, sensuous beauty. Then he showed her with his mouth, his tongue, his sex, just how much he desired her—just how much she had enslaved him and bound him to her with chains of love and passion. He intended to express that to her every day until they died…
And when Freya’s sweet lips found that ugly ridged scar of his that was the cruellest legacy from his past, and kissed every inch of that seared flesh as though she were kissing the most beautiful thing on earth, Nash almost couldn’t think any more for the powerful upsurge of emotion that arose inside him. Something broken in him seemed suddenly to reassemble, and he wanted to cry and laugh for joy all at the same time.
Later, after the storm of their loving, as Nash held Freya against him, her satiny behind pressed up close into the cradle of his hips, he covered her lovely breasts with his hands and placed a softly tender kiss at the side of her neck.
‘Ever think about getting married again?’ he asked.
Growing still at the question, Freya could hardly hear herself think for the sound of her own blood roaring in her ears.
‘Think seriously for a minute about what you could be taking on, Nash,’ she joked, biting back the sudden onrush of bitterness tinged with regret. ‘James more or less left me stony broke. My house is mortgaged to the hilt, and I haven’t earned any money in almost two whole years! And if you crave privacy then I’m hardly the best proposition for marriage, given the level of interest my life seems to invoke in the press!’
‘I love you, Freya Carpenter. And I’d want to marry you whatever your life looked like! I didn’t plan to fall in love with a gorgeous movie star, but hey…’ she heard the grin in his voice ‘…we all have to make sacrifices in life…’
‘Sacrifices indeed!’ Turning round to face him, Freya was all but stunned into silence by the blaze of love directed towards her from those incredibly blue eyes of his.
‘Just in case you didn’t know…’ he drawled thoughtfully, cupping her chin and drawing his thumb back and forth across that rather stubborn feature, ‘given my own background, I’m hardly the most perfect proposition either.’
Warming to the subject, Freya snuggled closer. ‘And what can a less than perfect male specimen like you offer a far from perfect female like me if I were to marry you?’ she teased.
‘My heart,’ Nash replied seriously, the fascinating hue of his eyes growing darker and deeper than a moonless night. ‘Will that do for starters, Freya?’
‘Oh,’ she whispered, and for long, delicious seconds lost herself completely in his passionate and devouring kiss.
When she could finally bear to tear herself away from the delectably erotic promise his lips so tantalisingly offered, she gazed at him almost in awe. ‘In case you hadn’t already guessed…I love you too, Nash. And I’m not going to stop loving you…ever.’
‘And when those adoring fans of yours try to trample over me to get to you, you can be sure that I’ll be holding on real tight and won’t ever let go.’
‘Promise?’
‘Promise.’
He pulled her round so that she was lying on top of him and proceeded to kiss her, until Freya honestly had no notion of being in the real world at all… Instead she lingered in a hypnotic sublime paradise that she never wanted to leave…
EPILOGUE
Two years later: Annual Film Award ceremony and dinner—the West End of London.
‘AND the winner is…’
‘This is your call, baby…are you ready for it?’ Leaning confidently towards his wife across the glittering banquet table, where the candlelight lent even more of an incandescent glow to her alluring features than she possessed already, Nash felt his stomach clenched hard in a mixture of pride and emotion.
Freya had travelled so far to get to the unmatched position she held now in the eyes of the public and her profession, and nobody knew that better than he. Now she was a much admired and beloved actress whose star quality had blazed through when she’d played the incredible role of Nikita Pushkova, reminding the sometimes fickle viewing public just what this stunning woman was capable of. As soon as the nominations for the award of Best Actress in a Leading Role had come up, Nash had not been the slightest bit surprised when Freya’s name had featured head and shoulders above the rest.
Now, her dark, exotic eyes held his, as if she was terrified to look anywhere else in the crowded room, and she moved her lips in an urgent whisper for his ears alone. ‘Please don’t be so confident…I don’t want you to be disappointed.’
But she needn’t have been so cautious. People were already on their feet, cheering as her name was announced as the winner, and Nash immediately went to his wife’s side and clasped her hard against him, in the shimmering red silk gown she wore, with its daring décolletage, kissing her full on the mouth in front of everyone before drawing back to bestow a tender, loving gaze.
‘You did it, my angel! You did it! This is your moment, and I’m so damned proud of you!’
‘I couldn’t have done it without you.’
Her dark eyes were already swimming with tears, and she hadn’t even made the podium yet! With her heart racing, and a sense of unreality the depth of which she’d never experienced before, Freya turned to walk the long red carpet towards the stage.
Accepting the coveted statuette from a handsome well-known actor, who’d flown in specially from the States to present the award to her, Freya was trembling so hard she almost feared she would drop the precious prize. Looking out at the sea of admiring faces, her gaze avidly searched the many smiling countenances for her husband’s. When she found it, she let out a long, contented sigh.
‘I feel like I’ve come back from the dead!’ she quipped breathlessly, and the audience—already enchanted—cheered and applauded wildly. ‘I won’t say that playing Nikita has been the role of a lifetime, because I’m still only young, and naturally I hope to have a long and successful career doing what I love, but just the same it came along at exactly the right time—a bit like my husband, as a matter of fact!’ She grinned happily, meaning every word with all her heart, and people cheered again. ‘Nikita Pushkova was a truly amazing and inspirational woman, and I feel very privileged to have been allowed to play her in the film. I have so many people to thank, as I think you can guess, but before I do—’ she once again searched for the arresting figure of her husband, resplendent in his midnight-black tuxedo ‘—there’s one person I owe more gratitude to than I can ever adequately convey…my husband Nash, who did indeed help to bring me back from the dead and convinced me to resume my career when I seriously doubted if I would ever act again. He is the most incredibly good man, and two months ago—to add to our joy—I gave birth to our beloved daughter, Betsy.’
Her throat tightening at yet another display of delighted applause, Freya shook her head in disbelief at her own good fortune. ‘I’m an incredibly lucky woman and I don’t ever forget it. Nash…you and Betsy mean the whole world to me!’
Standing at the side of the glittering table with its twinkling candelabrum, his handsome face visibly moved, Nash touched the tips of
his fingers to his mouth and blew out a kiss towards the stunning brunette on the stage. He was the lucky one… He told her that every single night they spent together, and he would continue to tell her each and every night to come…
ISBN: 978-1-4592-0920-6
REPUTATION IN TATTERS
Previously published in the U.K. as PUBLIC MISTRESS, PRIVATE AFFAIR
First North American Publication 2011
Copyright © 2007 by Maggie Cox
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