looked up at him as he joined her on the sofa, his arm sliding around her back, and automatically she snuggled up to him. ‘I was just thinking how lucky I am. Lucky to have met you and had your baby. Lucky to be with you now.’
He looked down at her very intently as he brushed the hair away from her face. ‘And all the in-between years? The wasted years?’
She shook her head. ‘No, not that. I’ve been thinking about that and they definitely weren’t wasted. They were learning years. Growing years—and growing is always painful. Unless of course you happen to be a bonsai tree, in which case you don’t even get the chance!’
He smiled. ‘Any ideas what you’d like to do tonight?’
‘Surprise me.’
His smile deepened as he cupped her face in his hands and moved his own close enough for her to feel the warmth of his breath.
‘I’m going to pour you a glass of champagne and tell you how much I love you, before thrashing you at P’yanitsa.’
‘A busy schedule,’ she observed.
‘Very busy,’ he agreed as his lips brushed over hers. ‘And after that...’
‘After that...what?’ she questioned breathlessly as his fingertips brushed over her breast.
‘On second thoughts,’ he said roughly, ‘maybe the P’yanitsa can wait...’
* * * * *
Abby Green
‘What exactly is it that you’re proposing with this press conference and by taking me back to Isle Saint Croix? That’s assuming I’ll agree to go,’ she added quickly.
Alix looked at Leila. She was pale, and even more beautiful than he remembered. Had her eyes always been that big? The moment he’d seen her standing in the foyer his blood had leapt, as if injected by currents of pure electricity.
‘You’ll come because you’re carrying my heir, and the whole world knows it now.’
Leila looked hunted. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest again, pushing the swells of those luscious breasts up. The thought of Leila’s body ripening with his seed, his child, gave him another shockingly sudden jolt of lust.
Leila was pacing now. ‘What is the solution here? There has to be a solution…’ She stopped and faced him again. ‘I mean, it’s not as if you’re really intending to marry me. The engagement is just for show… until things die down again.’
She looked so hopeful Alix almost felt sorry for her. Almost. Her reluctance to marry him caught at him somewhere very primal and possessive.
‘No, Leila. We will be getting married. In two weeks.’
Irish author ABBY GREEN threw in a very glamorous career in film & TV—which really consisted of a lot of standing in the rain outside actors’ trailers—to pursue her love of romance. After she’d bombarded Mills & Boon® with manuscripts they kindly accepted one, and an author was born. She lives in Dublin, Ireland, and loves any excuse for distraction. Visit abby-green.com or e-mail [email protected]
This is for Sheila Hodgson… thanks for your support and calming influence while life got seriously in the way of this book!
I’d also like to thank the beautiful stranger working in the perfume shop in the Westbury Mall in Dublin, who sparked the original idea for this story, and a very special thanks to Penny Ellis of Floris, London, who gave me my first experience in how to build a perfume. Any glaring errors are purely my own!
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