by Julia James
Ellen’s quizzical look intensified and Max elucidated.
‘I just happened to mention to them, at some point while I was acquiring their share of Haughton, several new property hotspots that were emerging, where substantial profits could be made. They seized on it, and my latest information is that they’re now investing substantially. However, if they’re prudent they’ll take on board that where there is the chance of high return there’s also the chance of being wiped out financially.’ He smiled, and it was not a wholly benign smile. ‘Let’s just say that if they do get wiped out financially...well, I for one will not be weeping.’
Ellen looked away, out over the lake. She had come so close to losing her beloved home that it was hard to feel any concern at the prospect of Pauline and Chloe losing the money they’d made on selling up to the man who’d saved Haughton for her.
‘Karma,’ she murmured now.
‘Yes, indeed,’ agreed Max. ‘And it was fate, too, that brought me here...let me find you here.’
He turned his head to look across the lake, beyond the lawns, to the mellow stone house that was now home to both of them, safe and secure for ever, for themselves and for their children to come. Contentment filled him. With his free hand he reached sideways to lift the bottle of champagne from its ice bucket.
‘Time for a refill,’ he said, and Ellen picked up her empty glass and held it tilted while he topped it up, then held his glass while he did likewise.
He set down the champagne bottle and raised his brimming glass, clinking it against hers.
‘This is to us,’ he said, and now his eyes wound into hers, his love for her glowing like an eternal flame. ‘To our marriage, to our lives together, to our love—and to our beautiful, most precious home.’
‘To us,’ she echoed. ‘To you, my darling, wonderful Max, who has made all my dreams come true!’
He dropped a kiss on her upturned face, then took a deep draught of champagne as she did likewise.
‘It’s going to be quite a busy honeymoon,’ he observed. ‘Undecorating the house from all that interior design, getting it back to the way it used to be... It’s great,’ he added, ‘that so much of the original furniture got stashed in the attics.’
‘We will need new curtains, though, and soft furnishings,’ Ellen commented.
‘We’ll choose them together. Did I tell you?’ He cast a wicked look at his bride. ‘I’ve always had a thing about spots. I think curtains made from a polka dot fabric would be ideal...’ He trailed off.
She laughed. ‘Let’s save that for the nursery, maybe,’ she said.
He cast her an interested look. ‘Are you trying to tell me something?’
His voice was casual, but Ellen was not deceived.
‘Well, no,’ she admitted. ‘But maybe this time next year? That should give my headmistress time to sort out maternity cover.’
‘You really want to go on teaching?’ Max asked.
‘Oh, yes,’ she answered. ‘I can’t just be the idle wife of a rich man! And besides...’ it was her turn to throw him a wicked look ‘...if I don’t teach Games I might go off the boil about exercise in general. I might run to fat,’ she said dulcetly. ‘And then,’ she finished dramatically, ‘you wouldn’t love me any more!’
A growl came from Max and he set down his champagne glass, removing hers at the same time. His arm around her shoulder tightened, and with his free hand he cupped her face.
‘My goddess—my lioness—you could turn into a morbidly obese rhinoceros and I wouldn’t love you an iota less. Don’t you realise it’s you I love, and to hell with anything else?’
‘Oh, Max!’ She gave a little choke, feeling her eyes misting suddenly.
How blessed she was—how unutterably blessed—that Max should love her!
He kissed her, warm and tender, deep and passionate.
Increasingly passionate.
Gently he drew her down upon the stone floor of the folly, and their bodies were limned with the light of the setting sun as desire flared between them—rich and ardent, sweet and eternal. Desire that was the manifestation of a love that would not end—that could not end. That could only bind them, each to the other, all their days...
* * * * *
EXCLUSIVE EXTRACT
Dante Di Sione can’t believe the beautiful blonde who ‘accidentally’ stole his family’s tiara is blackmailing him – for a date to her sister’s wedding! If Willow wants to be his fake fiancée, she’ll have to play the part to the full. Only Willow’s confidence is fake…and she’s a virgin!
Read on for a sneak preview of
DI SIONE’S VIRGIN MISTRESS
the fifth in the unmissable new eight book Modern series
THE BILLIONAIRE’S LEGACY
“I’m sorry. I’m out of here.”
“Dante…”
“No. Listen to me, Willow.” There was a pause while he seemed to be composing himself, and when he started speaking, his words sounded very controlled. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re lovely. Very lovely. A beautiful butterfly of a woman. But I’m not going to have sex with you.”
She swallowed. “Because you don’t want me?”
His voice grew rough. “You know damned well I want you.”
She lifted her eyes to his. “Then why?”
He seemed to hesitate and Willow got the distinct feeling that he was going to say something dismissive, or tell her that he didn’t owe her any kind of explanation. But to her surprise, he didn’t. His expression took on that almost gentle look again and she found herself wanting to hurl something at him…preferably herself. To tell him not to wrap her up in cotton wool the way everyone else did. To treat her like she was made of flesh and blood instead of something fragile and breakable. To make her feel like that passionate woman he’d brought to life in his arms.
“Because I’m the kind of man who brings women pain, and you’ve probably had enough of that in your life. Don’t make yourself the willing recipient of anymore.” He met the question in her eyes. “I’m incapable of giving women what they want and I’m not talking about sex. I don’t do emotion, or love, or commitment, because I don’t really know how those things work. When people tell me that I’m cold and unfeeling, I don’t get offended—because I know it’s true. There’s nothing deep about me, Willow—and there never will be.”
DI SIONE’S VIRGIN MISTRESS by Sharon Kendrick
Available November 2016
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Copyright ©2016 Mills & Boon
ISBN: 978-1-474-04429-5
A CINDERELLA FOR THE GREEK
© 2016 Julia James
Published in Great Britain 2016
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
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