by Alison Kelly
He groaned. ‘Yeah. Well, to be honest, the bulk of the blame for that lies with Jack Daniels not Jacqui Raynor. I—’
‘Jacqui Raynomovski,’ she corrected. At his confused frown she explained, ‘That’s what I’ve been doing most of today—arranging to have my name legally changed back to Raynomovski.’
‘Oh?’ he said, directing an almost smug smile at her. ‘Why?’
Distracted as much by the gleam in his eyes as by the way his body was brushing hers, it took her a moment to answer. ‘Er—I’ve decided to quit modelling for good. Cutting my hair and going back to being plain old Jacqui Raynomovski seemed like a good way to start.’
‘Would you have any problems with being plain old Jacqui Flanagan?’
Her heart stopped and she looked at him in utter disbelief. ‘F-F-Flan—’
‘I admit it doesn’t roll off the tongue as easily as Raynomovski, but—’
‘Flanagan,’ she interrupted, ‘are…are you…?’ Her thoughts scattered in the face of his gorgeous grin and the touch of his hands on her bare shoulders.
‘Am I what?’ he prompted, his hands now sliding down her arms.
‘St-stop it, Flanagan,’ she protested as her bones began to liquefy. ‘I can’t think.’
He released her and stepped back. ‘I’d hoped it wouldn’t be that hard a question to answer, Jacqui,’ he said softly, his eyes and smile dimming.
‘It isn’t!’ she assured him. ‘It’s just that…I need to know exactly what you mean. Are…are we talking long-term commitment here, or—’ she swallowed hard ‘—or…or…?’ Annoyed with herself and him, she stamped her foot ‘Dammit, Flanagan, are you asking me to live with you or to marry you?’
He was obviously struggling to verbalise his thoughts, and with fear burning in her veins Jacqui wished she could have bitten off her tongue. She lowered her head to conceal her tears. Oh, God, she’d blown it again!
‘I’m talking long-term commitment with a capital C and all the Ts crossed and the Is dotted.’ Her head jerked up at the sound of his strong, clear voice, weighted with conviction. ‘I love you, Jacqui—more than you’ll ever know, a million times more than I’ll probably ever be able to tell you. But marry me, and at least give me the rest of your life to try.’
‘Oh, Flanagan, yes!’ She threw herself at him and was caught firmly against his heart. ‘Yes! Yes! Ye—’ Her tearfully elated chant was cut off by his kiss, and it was a long time before either was interested in or capable of speaking.
‘So,’ he said, a smile twinkling in the brown depths of his eyes. ‘Are you planning on admitting that you love me any time soon?’
‘You know I love you!’ she accused him.
‘Say it, babe,’ he urged. ‘Tell me. I need to hear it just once.’
‘But I told you that morning, when we were making…’ Her words faded in the face of his negatively shaking head. ‘But I was sure I had. At least, I thought I had,’ she qualified. ‘I mean…I thought that was the reason you wanted to end the shoot’
‘Hon’, I didn’t want to publish the photographs because I didn’t want to share you with anyone else. But when you brought up the money—well, I—’
‘Flanagan,’ Jacqui wailed, ‘I’m not going to sue you! I don’t care about the money! I never did. Well, I did—but not more than you. And I don’t now—care about the money, I mean. Naturally I care about you! But I only agreed to posing nude in the first place because I had a debt the size of the budget deficit. But I don’t now. Well, I mean, I do— but it’ll be gone when the house sells, and—’
‘Shh,’ he said, chuckling. ‘Phil and Caro told me everything.’ He traced her bottom lip with his thumb.
‘They…they did?’
‘Well, everything except how you feel about me. On that score they were gambling on appearances—like I was.’
‘Oh, Flanagan, you idiot,’ she whispered. ‘Of course I love you!’
She was swung into his arms and cradled tightly as he strode from the garage.
‘Oh, God, honey,’ he muttered into her neck. ‘It seems like I’ve waited a lifetime to hear you say that. ‘Course,’ he chuckled, nipping her shoulder, ‘in my version you left out the “idiot” bit!’
She laughed. ‘You deserve it for what you’ve put me through the last five days!’
‘If you think that was tough wait until you see what I’ve got lined up for the next few!’ He wiggled his eyebrows.
‘Sounds interesting,’ she purred. ‘Give me a clue.’
He grinned, deftly sliding her door open with his foot and carrying her inside.
‘Well, first thing—after I’ve spent the next twelve or so hours making mad, passionate love to you—we’re going out to get a marriage licence and a pool table. Then we’re—’
She blinked as he lowered her on to her bed. ‘Don’t you mean a marriage licence and a ring?’
‘Nope,’ he said, putting his fingers into his pocket. ‘I’ve already got one.’
He crouched beside the bed and, taking her left hand, gently kissed each finger until he came to her third. At that point he kissed the ring he held and slipped it on to her finger. Jacqui was helpless to control her tears as she looked down at the gold design of two hands clasping a heart.
‘Oh, Flanagan,’ she cried. ‘It’s beautiful.’
‘It’s a Claddagh ring—the traditional Irish wedding ring.’ He kissed her softly, then rested his forehead against hers. ‘It was my grandmother’s, and I swear no one but her has ever worn it.’
Jacqui knew that his words were a subtle attempt to assure her that it had never been Angel’s, that his heart had never truly been Angel’s, and she smiled. There was just enough bitchiness in Jacqui for her to be smugly pleased.
‘I love you, babe,’ he said softly, and his kiss, as it tilted her backwards on to the mattress, reinforced his words.
Some hours later Patric opened his eyes and found himself looking into a pair of perplexed blue ones. Fear that something had happened to make her change her mind about marrying him ensured that he was instantly alert.
‘What’s up, babe?’ he asked, his fingers instinctively trying to smooth her frown.
‘Flanagan, why do we have to buy a pool table? If you’ve got the urge for snooker we could just go to the local pub—’
His relief was so enormous that he nearly tumbled them on to the floor as he lunged at her. Oh, God, he loved this woman! Even more incredibly, she loved him!
‘You don’t want a pool table?’ he asked innocently as she hung half off the bed.
‘Well, to be honest, I’ve never really thought about it.’
‘I have,’ he smirked. ‘And not having one has nearly killed me.’
She blinked. ‘Well, if you like snooker that much—get one.’ She smiled. ‘It’s not as if your game couldn’t use the practice!’
Grinning, he trailed a slow hand over her hip. ‘Oh, it’s not the idea of playing snooker that appeals to me.’
‘It’s…it’s not?’
‘Uh-uh. Ever since that night at the pub I’ve fantasised about having you naked and writhing beneath me on green felt.’
A red blush rose in her face and he frowned. ‘Too kinky for you, huh?’
She shook her head, her nails grazing the skin of his chest. ‘Nope, Flanagan.’ She grinned. ‘But we’d really have been on dangerous ground if you’d been able to read my mind that night—’cause we were definitely on the same wavelength!’
Her words and the look of desire in her blue eyes sent his heart and blood racing. ‘Ah, hell, lady, I think I’m going to die loving you!’
She slipped her arms around his neck and pulled his head down. ‘My thoughts exactly, Flanagan!’
EPILOGUE
THREE years later Jacqui opened the door of her riverside Cabarita home and was immediately hugged by her very pregnant sister, then Phil, her two nephews, and finally her niece.
‘C’mon through,’ she managed, when the hugs and kisses were out of the wa
y. ‘Flanagan’s out in the studio doing another bear rug layout.’
‘Oh?’ Caro raised an inquisitive eyebrow. ‘I thought he was busy putting together an exhibition of Flanagan Photographs—his, yours and Wade’s?’
‘He is.’ Jacqui smiled, opening the folding timber doors and revealing her husband, crouched with camera poised, next to where their nappy-clad, raven-haired eighteen-monthold twin daughters were sprawled on fleecy sheepskins.
‘I hate to tell you this, mate,’ Phil said in hushed tones, ‘but they’re sleeping, not posing.’
Lowering the camera, Flanagan grinned and crossed the room. ‘And I thought you were an amateur,’ he joked, shaking his brother-in-law’s hand. ‘How was the drive up from Melbourne?’
‘Mummy, you said we could have a drink when we got to Aunty Jac’s,’ Simone complained.
‘Yeah! You said!’ her younger brothers echoed.
Caro rolled her eyes. ‘We’ve got three kids and another due in a couple of months and you have to ask, Patric.’
‘Beats me how you haven’t worked out what’s causing them yet,’ he said drily, scooping the youngest boy into his arms. ‘C’mon, let’s see what goodies we’ve got in our fridge, huh?’
As the crowd trooped to the kitchen Jacqui tiptoed over and placed a light sheet over the sleeping Siobhan and Deirdre, her heart lifting at the sight of their chubby faces serene in sleep. Awake, they were such a noisy, mischievous handful that Flanagan had nicknamed them Search and Destroy, but Jacqui couldn’t have loved them more if she’d tried—nor, she knew, could their father. She remembered the day she’d told him she was pregnant, and the glorious joy which had filled Flanagan’s face…
‘You’re…you’re sure?’ he’d asked. ‘Really sure?’
She’d laughed. ‘Yes, Flanagan, I’m sure! Doubly sure. In fact I’m having twins.’
‘Two?’
‘Your fault, Flanagan. You’re the one with twins in the family.’
‘Two.’ He’d shaken his head, bemused. ‘I don’t know much about fathering one—’
‘You’ll do fine,’ she’d promised laughingly. ‘Better than fine! God’s giving you two because He knows you’re going to be a wonderful dad.’
‘I’m just glad He gave me you,’ he’d said softly. ‘Because it means our children will have the one thing I want most for them—a mother who’ll love, nurture and care for them, and never, ever make them feel like an inconvenience.’ He’d lowered his head then, and reverently kissed her flat abdomen before lifting her into his arms. ‘I love you, Jacqui. More than anything in this world, I love you…’
Sounds of laughter coming from the kitchen pulled her from her recollections and, dropping a kiss on each of the sleeping toddlers, she went to join the others.
The kids were charging around the yard in safe view of the adults sitting on the patio.
‘Did you pour me a drink, Flanagan?’ she asked, perching on the arm of his chair.
‘Gee, Patric,’ Caro said, shaking her head, ‘three years of marriage and you still can’t get her to call you by your first name.’
‘I do sometimes,’ Jacqui responded slyly.
‘Yeah,’ her husband agreed, handing her a glass of wine and smiling up at her with a loving look she’d never tire of. ‘But you’d never believe how hard I have to work to get her to do it!’
eISBN 978-14592-5248-6
DANGEROUS GROUND
First North American Publication 1999.
Copyright © 1996 by Alison Kelly.
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and TM are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.
Printed in U.S.A.
Table of Contents
Cover Page
Excerpt
About the Author
Books by Alison Kelly
Title Page
Dedication
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
EPILOGUE
Copyright
