by Abby Green
Nessa nodded slowly. ‘Part of me was afraid you’d insist...’ And that she wouldn’t be able to say no.
‘Was my proposal so unwelcome?’ There was a bleak tone to his voice now.
Nessa nodded, watching his expression carefully. Something flashed in his eyes and she recognised pain. As much as she hated to see it, it also sent hope to her heart.
She moved closer and saw a wary look cross his face now.
‘But not because of why you think. I couldn’t bear the fact that it was such a clinical proposal. To merge two names. To bolster your reputation and success. And just because you’d had a revelation about wanting a family.’
He shook his head and when he spoke his voice was rough. ‘It wasn’t just that.’
He looked at her, and the pain in the depths of his eyes was unmistakable now. ‘I’m sorry for everything. You just tried to help your brother and I treated you as if you’d stolen from me yourself. Then I seduced you, when I had no right to take your innocence, an innocence that I didn’t believe in until it was too late. I had no right to disrupt your life like that.’
He went pale. ‘When I saw you lying under those horses, I thought I’d killed you...and then the baby. It’s my fault you lost the baby, Nessa. If I hadn’t asked you to ride in the race it wouldn’t have happened. You were innocent of every charge I levelled at you.’
Suddenly Nessa felt cold. She put a hand to her mouth, horror coursing through her. ‘You feel responsible? That’s why you were so upset when you saw the accident. I thought...’
Nessa felt sick and turned away before he could see her. She’d never felt like such a fool. She tried to walk away as quickly as she could but a hand on her arm stopped her.
‘You thought what...?’
Nessa blinked back tears and turned around, avoiding Luc’s eye. ‘I watched the race online. You ran over, and you shouted at Francois that you cared about me, and not the horse.’ But now Nessa realised that of course Luc would care about any one of his jockeys more than a horse.
That was all it had been.
His hand tightened so much on her arm that she looked up at him. When she saw the look on his face she stopped breathing.
‘You thought I just felt responsible for you?’
Nessa’s humiliation turned to anger. ‘Didn’t you?’
His eyes were burning and she saw the same volatile emotion she was feeling reflected in their depths. But she didn’t trust it.
‘Believe me,’ he said grimly, ‘I wish that what I felt for you was just a sense of responsibility.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
He dropped his hand from her arm as if suddenly aware he might be hurting her.
‘I proposed to you in the hospital because I was too cowardly to admit that I nearly lost my whole life when I saw you lying under that horse. Of course I felt responsible, but I was also terrified.’
He took a deep breath. ‘I was terrified I was about to lose the only other person I’ve ever truly loved in my life, but I couldn’t admit that to myself even then.’
Nessa’s heart stopped. She was afraid she might be projecting words from her heart onto Luc’s lips. ‘What are you saying?’
He took a step closer. He looked uncharacteristically vulnerable. ‘I’m saying that I love you, Nessa. I think I’ve loved you from the moment we met, when I knew that I didn’t want to let you out of my sight. But I know you don’t love me and I told myself I wouldn’t stoop low enough to seduce you again because you deserve more. I brought nothing but more loss into your life.’
Nessa shook her head, almost too afraid to move in case she shattered this delicate moment. ‘First of all, it’s no one’s fault we lost the baby. It was just one of those things. Secondly, I lied to you. I do love you. So much that it scares me. And third of all, you brought nothing but richness into my life. You awakened me. You made me believe I was beautiful, you gave me the chance to be a jockey, you showed me Paris. That’s where I knew I loved you.’
He reached for her and drew her to him as gently as if she were spun glass. ‘Do you mean this?’
She nodded. ‘I mean it with every bone in my body. When I told you I didn’t love you at the hospital it was because I thought you were just consolidating your empire with a marriage of convenience.’
He shook his head, drawing her in even closer so their bodies were touching. A wave of need surged through Nessa. Luc’s voice was full of self-recrimination. ‘None of this means anything without you. I said it wasn’t about love because I didn’t know what love was. Until I went back the next day and you were gone. I was so sure I could persuade you...seduce you. And then I realised I wanted so much more.
‘I want it all, Nessa. A real family. Even though it terrifies me. How do I know how to have a family when I’ve never been part of one?’
Nessa reached up and put her arms around Luc’s neck. She felt stupidly shy all of a sudden. ‘I can show you.’
He looked down at her, a suspiciously bright glint in his eye. ‘It might take a lifetime.’
‘I wouldn’t settle for anything less.’
Luc suddenly looked serious. He framed her face with his hands. ‘Nessa O’Sullivan, I’m never letting you out of my sight, ever again. Will you marry me?’
She nodded, a surge of joy spreading from her heart to every part of her body. Tears made her vision blurry. ‘Yes...yes, I will. I love you, Luc.’
‘I love you, mon amour.’
Luc could feel Nessa’s heart thumping in time with his, and as her mouth opened under his and he pulled her even closer he knew that this wasn’t just a mirage, and that, finally, he’d found peace, love, and his true home.
EPILOGUE
‘AND IT’S NESSA BARBIER, riding to glory again in the Kilkenny Stakes on Sacre Coeur, owned by her husband and brother-in-law...’
A short time later Luc watched as his wife rode into the winner’s enclosure, mud-spattered face beaming. She wore the colours of the newly announced Barbier-Al-Saqr racing consortium—green and gold, a nod to Ireland and Merkazad.
His heart-rate finally returned to normal to see her in one piece. She saw him and her smile got even wider. She jumped off the horse gracefully and handed it to a groom before coming over to where he was standing with their two-year-old son, Cal, in his arms.
Flashes of light went berserk around them—the press still couldn’t get enough of Luc and Nessa ever since their fairy-tale romance had become news. They’d been married almost two years ago in a modest ceremony in an old chapel on Luc’s stud farm grounds in Kildare, and then they’d celebrated with a more lavish reception in Merkazad.
‘You do know that every time I watch you race it takes about a year off my life?’ Luc grumbled good-naturedly as he handed over his son, who was reaching for his mother with chubby arms.
Nessa cuddled him close and looked up at Luc. She had an enigmatic glint in her eye and then said sotto voce, ‘Well, if it’s any consolation it looks like this will be my last race for about a year, if not longer.’
Luc looked at her. The only other time she’d stopped racing was when they’d fallen pregnant with Cal, and even though the doctor had assured them that Nessa should be fine to race early in her pregnancy they’d both agreed that she wouldn’t, in deference to what had happened when she’d first been pregnant.
A surge of emotion rushed through Luc as he reached for her. ‘You’re...?’ He stopped, mindful of waggling ears.
She nodded, eyes shimmering with emotion. ‘I’m late, so I don’t know for sure yet, but I’m pretty certain.’
Luc pulled her and Cal into him, her free arm wrapped around his waist and his son snuggled up between them. His heart was so full he was afraid it might explode. He finally knew the true meaning of wealth and success and it had nothing to do with professional respect or money. It was this.
And then over Nessa’s head he saw Nadim and Iseult with their two children walking towards them. Iseult was pregnant
again with baby number three. His family. Luc finally felt like he belonged to something he’d never had the courage to hope for, and it still felled him sometimes. How lucky he was. How blessed he was. And now this, the seed of a new life in Nessa’s belly.
Nessa looked up at him and for a brief moment before they were enveloped in their family, and congratulations, they shared a look of pure love and understanding. ‘I love you,’ he said, not caring about hiding his emotion.
‘I love you too...’
The kiss they shared at that moment with their son between them was the picture used on the front pages of the newspapers the next day under the headline: Love at the races...a true family affair.
* * * * *
Coming next month
KIDNAPPED FOR HIS ROYAL DUTY
Jane Porter
Before they came to Jolie, Dal would have described Poppy as pretty, in a fresh, wholesome, no-nonsense sort of way with her thick, shoulder-length brown hair and large, brown eyes and a serious little chin.
But as Poppy entered the dining room with its glossy white ceiling and dark purple walls, she looked anything but wholesome and no-nonsense.
She was wearing a silk gown the color of cherries, delicately embroidered with silver threads, and instead of her usual ponytail or chignon, her dark hair was down, and long, elegant chandelier earrings dangled from her ears. As she walked, the semi-sheer kaftan molded to her curves.
“It seems I’ve been keeping you waiting,” she said, her voice pitched lower than usual and slightly breathless. “Izba insisted on all this,” she added, gesturing up toward her face.
At first Dal thought she was referring to the ornate silver earrings that were catching and reflecting the light, but once she was seated across from him he realized her eyes had been rimmed with kohl and her lips had been outlined and filled in with a soft plum-pink gloss. “You’re wearing makeup.”
“Quite a lot of it, too.” She grimaced. “I tried to explain to Izba that this wasn’t me, but she’s very determined once she makes her mind up about something and apparently, dinner with you requires me to look like a tart.”
Dal checked his smile. “You don’t look like a tart. Unless it’s the kind of tart one wants to eat.”
Color flooded Poppy’s cheeks and she glanced away, suddenly shy, and he didn’t know if it was her shyness or the shimmering dress that clung to her, but he didn’t think any woman could be more beautiful, or desirable than Poppy right now. “You look lovely,” he said quietly. “But I don’t want you uncomfortable all through dinner. If you’d rather go remove the makeup I’m happy to wait.” dpg!
She looked at him closely as if doubting his sincerity. “It’s fun to dress up, but I’m worried Izba has the wrong idea about me.”
“And what is that?”
“She seems to think you’re going to…marry…me.”
Copyright ©2018 by Jane Porter
Continue reading
KIDNAPPED FOR HIS ROYAL DUTY
Jane Porter
Available next month
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