Each Time We Love

by Shirlee Busbee

  While the others crowded around, Jason picked up a fallen limb from the ground and cautiously probed around inside the hole. At first there was nothing, and as he dragged out half-rotted matter and the signs that at some time various animals had used the hole for nesting, his certainty faded. He was on the point of giving up when from deep inside the trunk came the unmistakable clink of metal.

  Everyone was electrified and with bated breath watched as Jason, almost reverently, pulled a tin box from the bowels of the tree. Despite its weight, there was a note of caution in his voice as he handed it to Savanna. "There may be nothing in it, you know." He pulled a wry face. "Or just a boy's memento."

  Savanna smiled at him. "I know, but still it's exciting, isn't it? To think that we may have found it?"

  The box felt heavy in her hands and with fingers that trembled, she fumbled at the catch. Adam's hands were resting warmly on her shoulders and when the rusty metal gave, she glanced back him. It was, in many ways, a precious moment to them, not because of the wealth the golden armband represented, but because, in some odd way, it had become a symbol of their love for each other.

  The lid flipped open and Savanna sucked in her breath as she stared at the contents. There was only one object in the tin box, an object that had been carefully wrapped in oilskin. She lifted it out, the box falling to the ground. From the shape and weight of it, they all knew that it had to be Nolan's armband, and yet, when the oilskin fell away and the late afternoon sunlight caressed the bright golden band, the emeralds twinkling in the golden rays, there was a moment of stunned silence as they stared at the exact twin to the band Jason always wore.

  It was Catherine who spoke first. "I'm afraid that over the years I have grown so used to seeing the one on Jason's arm that I've forgotten what a glorious object it is." Her face twisted and her eyes clung to Jason's. "Or what," she said huskily, "its existence has cost us."

  They were both thinking of the child Catherine had lost all the years before, and gently Jason drew her into his arms. Softly he murmured against her hair, "Don't grieve. It's in the past." He looked at Adam and Savanna. "I think we'll leave you two alone for a while."

  Silently Adam, his hands still on Savanna's shoulders, and Savanna, the golden armband resting in the palms of her hands, watched them walk away. It was only when the other couple had disappeared from view that Savanna turned to Adam. Her heart in her eyes, she offered the golden armband to him.

  He shook his head. "I think," he said thickly, "that it rightfully belongs to our firstborn son." He pulled her into his arms, the golden armband crushed between them as he kissed her. Lifting his head, he stared down into her bemused face and murmured, "What need have I of gold and emeralds, when I have you?"

  Choked with emotion, Savanna couldn't speak; she could only smile tremulously up into his beloved face. He kissed her again and it was several long moments later before they became aware of where they were. Ruffling her hair, Adam admitted bluntly, "Unless you want to shock everyone by having me make love to you in plain sight of the house, in broad daylight, I think we had better rejoin the others."

  Her mouth tingling from his passionate kisses, Savanna moved reluctantly out of his embrace. Looking down at the golden armband clasped in her hand, she murmured, "It's strange, isn't it? How one simple object could cause such misery and violence?"

  His fingers tracing its rim, Adam said, "It wasn't the object that set those terrible events in motion, sweetheart, but the lust for it."

  Together they stared at it, the emeralds gleaming darkly in the bright gold of the band, both of them thinking of all the savage and ugly deeds that had been wrought because of it. And yet, in the end, the golden armband had been the catalyst that had united them, the catalyst that had allowed them to find each other and, having found each other, to find love.

  Secure in her husband's love, their child growing strong beneath her breast, Savanna felt her eyes fill with tears of happiness as she traced the beauty of the golden armband. How odd, she thought, that in the end, the golden armband which had been the cause of so much wretchedness had ultimately given her the greatest gift of all—love.

  Savanna glanced up once more into Adam's face, her gaze moving over those dearly loved features, the love that was in her eyes reflecting back from his. Yes, the golden armband had brought her love, she thought dizzily, a love as rich and precious, as enduring and lasting as the gold and emeralds themselves....

  The End

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  AT LONG LAST

  The Southern Women Series

  Book Three

  Excerpt from

  At Long Last

  The Southern Women Series

  Book Three

  by

  Shirlee Busbee

  New York Times Bestselling Author

  AT LONG LAST

  Reviews & Accolades

  "One of the best romance writers of our time."

  ~Affaire de Coeur

  Already shaken and distressed, his words flicked her on the raw, and before she could stop herself, she burst out bitterly, "I should have known you would act this way! You never cared who you hurt as long as you got what you wanted. I can see that you haven't changed." She flashed him a contemptuous glance. "Will it pleasure you to see us thrown out of Highview? Will you come and oversee our removal from our home yourself. Or will you send one of your minions to do the task?" She made a sound, more sob than laugh. "Or will you make another wager with your friend Blackburne? Betting on how long it will take us to leave?"

  Tony's face went white. He snarled something under his breath and, his eyes glittering dangerously, strode up to her. Catching her shoulders he roughly shook her. "You dare," he said thickly, "you dare say that to me?"

  Stonily she met his fierce gaze. "Why not? Wagering seems to give you great pleasure. Especially wagers that bring others personal pain."

  His nostrils flaring, he took a deep breath and removed his hands from her. Glancing at her with open dislike, he growled, "Despite my many sins, and I will not deny that there are many, do you know that I have never laid hands on a woman in anger before in my life? And considering the provocation, you are damned lucky I did no more than shake you."

  "Very well, I will consider myself lucky," she said stiffly, conscious of the shameful pleasure that had knifed through her at his touch. Conscious, too, of the heat and vitality radiating from his big body as he remained standing in front of her. He was wearing a white-linen shirt, carelessly opened at the throat, and the sight of that strong brown throat, a throat she had once pressed wild, hungry kisses upon, and the well-remembered scent of his body was almost more than she could bear.

  Tony was assailed with memories as potent as hers, and he ached for all that he had lost through his own foolishness. She would never forgive him, and he doubted that his own considerable pride would ever allow him to ask for forgiveness. After all, he had made that damned wager with Blackburne.

  Fearful that she would give way to the powerful emotions that clawed through her, Arabella took several steps away from him. Turning her back, she asked painfully, "How soon do you wish us to vacate Highview?" She swallowed back a sob. "It w-w-will take my stepmother several d-d-days to pack."

  Tony's hands clenched into fists. He took a steadying breath. "I never said that you had to leave Highview,"
he muttered, his thoughts racing.

  Her eyes wide, hope brimming in their golden brown depths, she swung around to look at him. "You'll make the trade?" she asked breathlessly.

  Tony bit back a curse, on the verge of grabbing the vowels and thrusting them into her hands, when a decidedly reprehensible idea flitted through his mind. But, if he were to propose it, reprehensible or not, it would give him something he desperately, passionately wanted. The thing he wanted most in the world. Arabella in his arms once more.

  Assessingly he eyed her, a painful ache in the region of his heart. Was he really that base? he wondered. To use her unfortunate circumstances for his own needs? And if he did not, if he simply handed her the vowels, she would thank him and then be gone again. Out of his life once more. Oh, she might think kindly of him for the moment; no doubt she would even feel gratitude. But gratitude was the last thing he had ever wanted from Arabella Montgomery.

  As Arabella waited expectantly, her lovely eyes fixed on his, Tony considered his next move. She already thought him a most-despicable creature, and if he made the outrageous proposal, it would only confirm her worst opinion of him. So what, he asked himself harshly, did he have to lose?

  Recklessly, not giving himself time to think, he said, "I am willing to make a trade."

  A blinding smile lit Arabella's expressive features. "Greenleigh for Highview?"

  Tony shook his head. "I said a trade, not that trade."

  Puzzled, her smile faded. "Then what? I have nothing else of value."

  A sensual spark lit his blue eyes. "Ah, Elf, you are wrong there. You do have something of great value to offer me—your own sweet self."

  Arabella looked blank. "W-w-what? You want to m-m-marry me?"

  Tony's lips curled. If he thought he could really blackmail her into marrying him he would, but he doubted that she would tie herself to him for the rest of her life, even to save her family. No. She'd not marry him. But she might be willing to put herself in his hands for a specific period of time. And though he knew it was base and dishonorable, he was willing to risk it. For a little while at least, she would be his.

  But he was curious and he asked, "Would you marry me? For Jeremy's vowels?"

  Arabella gaped at him, hardly daring to believe what he was proposing. Could she marry him? Live the rest of her life as his wife? The memory of the pain and humiliation of their last meeting came rushing back, and she put out a hand as if warding off a terrible fate. No, she could never face that sort of anguish for the remainder of her life. "Do not ask that of me," she whispered. "I could not bear it."

  Harshly, Tony said, "You have nothing to worry about; marriage between us is out of the question. We trod that path once before, and it brought us both misery. No, what I am proposing is a far different arrangement this time."

  Arabella paled, her skin starkly white against the flaming red of her hair, her eyes dark with shock. His meaning was clear, and she could not believe that even Tony could stoop so low.

  But apparently he could, for he closed the distance between them and pulled her into his arms. Brushing his warm, knowing mouth against hers, he murmured, "My mistress. Become my mistress, and the vowels need never be called in."

  At Long Last

  by

  Shirlee Busbee

  ~

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  New York Times bestselling author Shirlee Busbee is celebrating 50 years of marriage to her husband Howard, and looking forward to another 50. Together, they live in Mendocino County, California, with three Miniature Schnauzers (Shirlee wants a fourth but Howard thinks two is enough—ah, drama ahead) and a herd of American Shetland Ponies.

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Part One

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Part Two

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Part Three

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Part Four

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Part Five

  Chapter 25

  A Note from the Publisher

  Excerpt from At Long Last(The Southern Women Series, Book 3)

  Meet Shirlee Busbee