Lovers Never Lie
Page 19
"For her," Stacia said haltingly, her doubts returning. "Not for me."
"That's what I thought at first." He captured her gaze with his. "Then I fell in love and knew it was for you. I tried to deny it, tried to tell myself I was only interested in your safety, nothing else, even tried to convince myself that if we made love, my lust for you would be satisfied." He kissed her again and for a long moment nothing more was said.
"But it didn't work," he finally whispered. His tongue drew a fire across her lips. "I fell in love with you." He put both arms around her and held her tight. "Because I needed you—"
She sank into his embrace, and let all doubts die. She wanted only to savor the moment, cherish it and him.
"—and you need me."
"I do need you," she admitted softly. Her heart expanded with the truth of it. She smiled. "I'm getting a taste for this adventurous life, you know."
He swore under his breath.
"Getting good at it," she teased, her smile widening to a grin.
He captured her mouth and kissed her words away. "You are good," he finally said, darting hungrily back to her lips between each word.
"If I agree to let you keep me safe—"
He frowned.
"—you have to agree to let me keep you safe."
He nuzzled her neck and sighed. "I'll agree to anything," he said, "except letting you get into this kind of danger again."
"What about your diamonds?"
"To hell with my diamonds."
She tried to pull away, but he held her tightly.
"You don't want them back?" she asked innocently.
"Stacia," he said slowly, as though her mind had been addled by all she'd been through, "the diamonds are gone. They're blown to bits."
"Maybe not," she said, shaking her head slowly. She grinned at the look of surprise on his face.
"What do you mean?"
"I have them."
He stared at her, stunned.
"Natolie lent me her sweater—"
"Who's Natolie?"
"A girl I met on the bus."
"The girl I met in the cafe," Andrew murmured.
"I was cold. She and her mother were kind. The sweater was black." Her sentences emerged too short and incoherent. Must be delayed shock, Stacia decided.
Andrew stared at her not understanding.
"Natolie's sweater had baubles on it," Stacia went on patiently. "Nothing fancy, not as sparkly as diamonds, but if you didn't look too closely, they seemed real enough."
A groove formed on his forehead.
"When I actually had to go looking for Maria, I almost didn't go on. I went into the church, the one I had seen in the picture on Wilson's desk."
His face darkened at her mention of Wilson's name.
"There was a statue of Mary in the church. It was beautiful, but so sad looking." Stacia shivered. "It had no eyes. The jewels were gone from them. Perhaps during the war." Stacia smiled. "But she still had her strength and she gave it to me."
"You have your own strength," Andrew said.
Stacia stared into his face, saw the love and admiration there, and a warmth filled her soul.
"Too much of it sometimes," he added. He squeezed her tightly, as though even now he was afraid she might disappear. "Finish your story," he said, kissing her brow.
"In Maria's basement," she went on, "when there was no place to hide—"
Andrew's eyes grew black.
"—when Maria was almost there... I switched sweaters." Stacia smiled, totally satisfied with the surprise flashing across his face. "I turned your sweater inside out so the diamonds were hidden, and put it on then gave Maria, Natolie's sweater." Stacia shrugged. "She never noticed."
"She noticed," Andrew disagreed, his face turning sober. "That must have been why she came back." He shook his head. "Her own greed killed her in the end."
"They were smuggling weapons," Stacia explained, a shiver skittering across her shoulders. "They used diamonds to buy weapons."
Andrew caught her to him and for a long moment simply held her. "I know just what we should do," he said, releasing her at last. His eyes glowed in the moonlight. He rose to his feet and held out his hand.
She was grateful for his touch as she followed him to his car, grateful, too, when the policeman stopped them that Andrew was the one to answer the questions. She felt sapped of strength. Leaning into Andrew, she borrowed some of his.
When at last they were free to go, she sank into the front seat of Andrew's car. Her heart was still too full, the horror too near, to say anything. Andrew steered carefully down the winding road toward the village and parked the car in front of the church. Stacia turned to him, surprised.
"Inside," was all he said.
It felt different entering the church this time, as though Maria Argolis's evil spirit had already passed from the village. The interior of the church still looked shabby and worn, but there was a warmth and peace that hadn't been there before. The cold shadow of Stacia's ordeal began to disperse.
Andrew smiled down at her, as though he knew what she was feeling. Then he put his arm around her waist and led her to Mary.
"Take off the sweater," he commanded softly.
Stacia looked at him, not understanding, not wanting to leave the comfort of his embrace.
"I'll keep you warm," he promised, reading her mind as he had been doing since the day they met.
Heat touched her cheeks at the look of love in his eyes, and she tugged off the sweater and turned it right side out. With a small smile, she handed it to Andrew.
He looked first at the diamonds, then at her, then he kissed her long and passionately in front of the statue of Mary.
It was as if they had kissed before God himself. Joy filled Stacia's heart, and with it came peace, originating from the man and blessed by the Saint.
Finally, slowly, Andrew drew his lips from hers. He took the sweater he'd held crushed against Stacia's back, and plucked two diamonds from it. These he placed on the statue's outstretched hand.
"We'll give them to Mary for the villagers of Artemis. They were good to you, helped me find you."
"The villagers hated the Argolis evil as much as us," Stacia said.
It seemed so right, so perfect. Almost as perfect as Andrew.
"What about you?" Stacia asked, wanting to make sure. "Your diamonds are very valuable."
"I have something much better." Andrew stared steadily at her, the light in his eyes speaking his love. "My jewel is you," he said firmly. Then he kissed her again, a kiss filled with promises.
The End
Want more from Gael Morrison?
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A WOMAN'S HEART
Excerpt from
A Woman's Heart
by
Gael Morrison
A WOMAN'S HEART
Reviews & Accolades
"...a story of love and sacrifice, with a touch of tropical magic thrown in. I loved this heartwarming story."
~Vanessa Grant, bestselling author of Writing Romance
If she truly loved Alex, she would find the courage to do what was right, would sacrifice her own needs for his, as mothers had been doing since the beginning of time.
As the mother who had appeared before King Solomon had done. When two women both claimed a baby as their own, the King had commanded the baby be divided into two. The true mother hadn't allowed that, had given her baby to the other woman rather than see him hurt.
As Jann would give her baby to Peter. Alex would be better off with his uncle. If she loved her child enough, she must find the courage to let him go.
With a long shuddering sob, she pulled her hand from Alex's face and stared at Peter through tear-blurred eyes.
"He's yours," she whispered, not looking at Alex as she spoke, for if she looked at him, she might not do what she knew was right.
"What do you mean?" Peter asked, his emerald eyes darkening to a velvety blackness.
"You want him," she said, struggling to keep her voice audible. "You can have him." Then she turned away, her eyes awash with tears, loving Peter as thoroughly, as gut-wrenchingly as she loved Alex. By giving one to the other, she'd lose them both.
But they'd also both be safe and that was all that mattered.
Lowering her head, she pressed Alex's hand to her lips. For the space of a kiss, she held it there, then gently dropped it back to the sheet.
Allowing herself one last glance at Peter—any more would be fatal to her resolve—she stood. Her heart shattering, she strangled back a cry and raced for the door.
When it swung shut behind her, she slumped against the wall, tears coursing down her cheeks and her breath coming in hard gasps. Etched into her brain was the sight of Peter's face; his skin white, his eyes black with disbelief.
Peter... She pressed her eyes closed.
A rush of air crossed her face. She felt, rather than saw, the door beside her open. A strong hand gripped her arm.
"You're giving him to me?"
Opening her eyes, she found Peter standing before her, his green gaze burning hers. She nodded, unable to trust her voice.
"Just like that?" he demanded hoarsely.
She nodded again, trembling.
"So when the going gets rough, you bail out." The fury in his eyes was mixed with contempt.
There seemed not enough air to fill her lungs. Jann leaned over, her hands on her knees. One breath. Two. The sick feeling abated and the wild pounding of her heart steadied to a dull roar. She slowly straightened.
"If it helps you to think that then believe it," she whispered. Tiny arrows of pain seemed to pierce her from all directions. After all she and Peter had shared, how could he believe that was why she was giving him her son?
"What else can I think?"
If he had shouted, she could have stood it better. This coldness was worse than anything.
"Tell me," he demanded, his fingers tightening around her wrist.
"You'll make a good father," she said.
He clamped his other hand on her shoulder.
"Let go of me." She shrugged his hand away. She couldn't do this if he touched her.
He drew back as though he had been burned, but she could feel the heat where his fingers had lain. Glancing at her shoulder, she half expected to find the outline of his palm burned into her skin.
"I've seen you with Alex," Peter said, his voice low and furious.
Holding him, loving him. Jann's eyes stung with tears.
"You're a good mother."
She stared up at him, stunned. "Not good enough." Although, the Lord knew she had tried. But in the end, she had failed. Peter wouldn't fail.
"You love him."
"I left him when he was sick."
"You didn't know."
"I should have known."
"This isn't just about Alex." Peter reached for her again. "It's about you and me, too."
"No," she said fiercely, the pain in her chest threatening to obliterate the pain in her head.
If he didn't love her, how could this be about the two of them? And he'd never said he did love her. Not yesterday. Not now.
Jann closed her eyes, shutting out the light and shutting out Peter.
Let him go.
If she loved him, she had to let him go.
A Woman's Heart
by
Gael Morrison
~
To purchase
A Woman's Heart
from your favorite eBook Retailer,
visit Gael Morrison's eBook Discovery Author Page
www.ebookdiscovery.com/GaelMorrison
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Page forward and complete your journey
with an excerpt from
MEET ME AT MIDNIGHT
Excerpt from
Meet Me at Midnight
by
Gael Morrison
MEET ME AT MIDNIGHT
Reviews & Accolades
"Gael Morrison writes with style and wit. In Meet Me at Midnight, there's love, passion and family all mixed into one delightful romance cocktail. Read and enjoy. I certainly did."
~EC Sheedy, author of Man for the Morning
"This isn't necessary," Sam muttered.
"We have to eat," Nate replied. He speared a prawn with his fork and dipped it into a bowl of spicy red sauce.
"I thought you'd be upset."
"I never liked blind dates."
"She might show up yet."
"Then we'll pull up an extra chair."
"If you didn't want a date," Sam asked tersely, "why ask me to get you one?"
"God knows," Nate said cheerfully. He popped the prawn into his mouth. "Do you want me to be upset?"
"I want you to care. Time's running out."
"I've stopped looking at the calendar." Nate glanced at the sunshine glittering off the turquoise surf and splashing in the picture window at them. "It must be the weather."
"It's your marriage! Your wife! You've got to take some interest! You can't leave it all up to me."
"It's not my job, mon," Nate replied, intoning the phrase scrawled across the tee shirts in the market.
"Your business is!" Sam said sharply. "Are you willing to let that fall apart from lack of trying?"
"Relax." Nate stabbed a scallop next from the seafood platter and moved it toward her mouth. "Open wide," he instructed, holding his other hand beneath her chin to catch the butter dribbling from the delicacy.
"I don't want—" Too late. The morsel was already past her lips and landing on her tongue in an explosion of taste sensation.
"Good?" he asked, his hand poised to repeat the process.
"Good," she admitted, but covered his hand with hers, determined to stop its upward movement before he could touch her again, before her body could react as it had before, with a spiralling rush of heat and heightened senses.
Perhaps she had simply sat too long in the sun, or drunk too swiftly of the excellent Chardonnay, but Sam suddenly felt relaxed, more relaxed than she'd felt since beginning this voyage, so relaxed, in fact, that it bordered on out of control.
She tried to sit straighter, tried to draw away from Nate's reach, but given her swiftly vanishing resolve and the intimacy of their window alcove, she found the task impossible.
Nate seemed to feel what was passing between them also, for he suddenly raised his hand and motioned for the check. When he turned back to her, his eyes were serious.
"So what's next?" he asked. "Shall we go back to the boat or scour the city for my so-called date?"
"What do you want to do?"
"I want to forget the whole thing."
"We can't," she said miserably.
"No. But we're not going to miss out on seeing San Juan just because some woman decides to stand me up."
"I'm sure—"
He abruptly stood and pulled out her chair. "Come on," he said, throwing some bills on the table. "There's something I want to show you."
Meet Me at Midnight
by
Gael Morrison
~
To purchase
Meet Me at Midnight
from your favorite eBook Retailer,
visit Gael Morrison's eBook Discovery Author Page
www.ebookdiscovery.com/GaelMorrison
~
Discover more with
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Gael's love of travel and adventure has led her all over the world and provided exciting backdrops for her stories. Together with her husband, Gael backpacked through Europe and Turkey, taught high school for two years in the primitive paradise of Papua New Guinea, explored the varied cultures of Asia and India, rode elephants in Sri Lanka and encountered a camel caravan in the Afghanistan desert.
Upon returning home to Canada, Gael and her husband worked at an Outward Bound camp for juvenile delinquents while her husband attended Law School, and
began raising the first two of their four sons. Gael taught during this time as a Learning Assistance teacher in a special program for First Nations' students.
Gael and her family lived for a year in Cambridge, England, where they studied, took up squash, and sampled the delights of Europe as a family.
Gael's love of storytelling and adventure led her to writing where she combines romance and suspense in writing finely crafted romantic mysteries and contemporary romances.
Gael loves to hear from readers. Contact her at: gael@gaelmorrison.com
Table of Contents
Cover
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Excerpt from A WOMAN'S HEART by Gael Morrison
Excerpt from MEET ME AT MIDNIGHT by Gael Morrison
Meet the Author