For the Love of Jazz (28 page)

Then Kacy discovers that Gulliver is not all he appears to be. Her world crashes around her just as danger—this time real—threatens not only her sanity, but her life. Before she can untangle the web of deceit from her own broken emotions, someone will get hurt.

And someone will die.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
A Desperate Longing
:

“Are you ready to see the stars?” she asked.

“I already see them.” He smiled, placing his forehead against hers. “And they’re beautiful.”

Everything a girl dreamed of in a man stood holding her. Only she felt herself withdrawing. She didn’t want to take a perfectly decent guy and ruin his life by making him tend to her dementia. She felt safe with him, and yet all it took were words to push her into that other world, the one in which she doubted she’d ever fully trust anyone.

“Gulliver, don’t involve yourself with me.” She blinked and tears dropped. “I’m going crazy very slowly and I don’t want to take anyone with me.”

“What if I don’t let you go?” He brushed the tears from her cheeks. “What if it’s too late, what if I like crazy? Though I still contend you’re not, never were, and never will be.”

Kacy wanted to push him away. She could save him and she knew how. She would, too, if she hadn’t hurled headlong into the trap of love. Who’d believe it really did happen at first sight?

Gulliver wanted to protect her from everything, including herself, and she clung to the idea.

“Then I’d say you’re crazy.” She hiccupped a laugh and brushed her lips over his. “Come look at the skylight and the real stars.”

“Kacy?” His fingers threaded between hers as she tugged him toward the bed.

“Yes?”

“I have something I have to tell you.” He kissed her knuckles.

“Oh?”

He scooped her up in his arms and she squeaked in surprise.

“Sorry, I forgot to warn you I was going to touch you.”

“I don’t want you to warn me ever again.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him firmly. “Now what was it you wanted to tell me?”

“The best view has to be lying down.”

She giggled as he tossed her on the bed. He glanced at the skylight and then her. She held her hand up, wiggling her fingers for him to take them.

“View is better from down here.” Her voice lowered and she marveled at how seductive her tone could become with little effort. It worked, and he dropped down next to her.

“Hey, I like this.” He pulled her close.

“Me too.” She shifted on her side and snuggled tighter, never turning her gaze away from his features.

Gulliver kissed the corner of her mouth. “I was talking about the view up there.” He pointed.

She heaved a heavy sign of resignation and flopped over on her back to look.

Brightly lit by both the moon and the stars, the sky floated like a picture on the ceiling. If she ignored the framed opening, she could imagine the room didn’t exist.

“I use to go camping with my parents.” Kacy searched for his hand on the bed next to her. “I loved being outside at night and I miss it.”

“Night comes every twenty-four hours, what’s too miss?”

“Not being there when things go ‘bump’. I don’t go outside after dark.”

Gulliver sat up and swung his legs off the bed. “Come on.” He took her hand and tugged her off the bed.

“Where are we going?” She watched him take a pillow and the comforter from the bed. “Gulliver, what are you doing?”

“Trust me.” He towed her along behind him.

“I do,” she whispered, and followed as he took her to the kitchen door. “We’re not—?”

“We are.” He led her to the middle of the backyard and spread the thick comforter on the grass. “Here we go. Better than the skylight, isn’t it?”

He sat and took his shoes off.

Kacy stood, apprehensive about being outside at night. Gulliver and intimacy took a backseat to her worries when she stared into the darkness surrounding them. Could someone see them?

“Kacy?”

She forced herself to look at Gulliver.

“I recall a short while back a woman wanting spontaneity. Is this a stupid idea?”

She shook her head. Wanting it didn’t mean she could handle it.

“I won’t let anything happen to you.” He drew his pant leg up, showing her the gun.

She smiled timidly and sat alongside him.

“It’s supposed to rain.” She plucked her shoes off and tossed them near his.

“Will you melt or shrink?” He fixed the pillow to the one side and lay down.

“No.”

“Then come down here with me.” He patted his chest and she laid her head on him.

“This can’t be very comfortable for you.”

“No? You’d be surprised at how much I like this.” He pulled the other half of the comforter over them. “Now watch the sky and if we’re lucky, we’ll see a shooting star to wish on.”

“I wouldn’t suggest holding your breath.” She sighed. “I never have good luck.”

As for wishes, she’d had one granted already—lying in Gulliver’s arms. It made her not want to be greedy and ask for more.

Gulliver kissed the top of her head. “Have faith,” he whispered.

Kacy didn’t say much as her brain picked through the conversations they’d had, replaying all the nice things he’d said. Five, ten, fifteen minutes went by without a word from Gulliver and she wondered how long they’d stay outside.

“Oh look,” she gasped as a shooting star made a liar out of her.

When Gulliver didn’t say anything, she turned her head and smiled. Adorably peaceful, he slept. She traced his lips and schemed of ways to wake him. She leaned close and brushed his firm mouth delicately with hers. His sleepy sigh excited her.

Taken by surprise, she didn’t fight the restraint of his hand behind her head. His kiss held her spellbound for a long time. The deep passion curled her toes as his tongue stroked hers. She pulled his hand from her waist up to her breast.

“Patience,” he whispered.

“I haven’t any.”

Gulliver read all the signals and his touch began a steady trek downward. Across her belly, over the front of her denims and right to the sensitive hub of her crotch, he rubbed. He applied pressure with his steady pushes to and fro, and Kacy moaned with delight as tears came to her eyes.

Greedily, she kept kissing him, hoping he’d not stop. His arm tightened around her. In his fervor, his lips traveled her cheeks and her eyelids and she reveled in his physical attention.

He tugged on her denims and the snap popped open. An exhilarating warmth spread over her entire body. Then he slid her zipper down. She tilted her head and watched his hand ease the waistband over her hip. Shifting to make it possible, she closed her eyes and concentrated on not giggling with excitement. A draft of air rushed inside the heated front of her panties and the laugh bubbled up and out of her.

“I like blue.” He slid his fingers between her legs.

“Okay,” she replied, not understanding why he brought up the subject of colors.

“Your panties and bra.” His stroke touched the silk against her clit, and his mouth claimed hers.

Caught in the sights of a killer,
David and Miranda fight for life—and the chance to love again.

Love on the Run

© 2007 Marie-Nicole Ryan

Miranda Raines thinks she has found a safe haven in Oxford, England, until Scotland Yard DCI David French knocks on her door with terrifying news. Her ex-husband, a convicted murderer, has escaped from prison and he's coming for her.

Miranda, who for years has harbored a secret love for the driven Chief Inspector, has no choice but to trust him. She just hopes she can guard her own heart at least as well as he guards her.

After thwarting her ex's first attack, David spirits Miranda and her young son out of England and the three of them end up on the run across Europe. David has no intention of falling in love again, but with each passing day Miranda awakens passions he thought long dead.

Could this be their forever love? With a killer on their trail, they may not live long enough to find out.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Love on the Run
:

After dinner on the flagstone terrace, Randi helped Mina clear away the dishes and load the dishwasher.

“I’m glad you came back,” Mina said. “Jamie would’ve been quite all right, but I’m not sure
you
would have.”

Randi stopped in the middle of folding a towel. She shook her head. “No, I was a wreck. I don’t think we went ten kilometers on that bike, and I bawled like a baby the whole time.”

Mina smiled and placed her strong arm around her shoulder. “You are losing that pinched look you had when you first came to us.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Not bad, but still it was there.”

“I do feel safe here,” Randi admitted.

“You must relax because David will protect you and your son. It is very obvious to these old eyes how important the two of you are to him.”

Mina’s words gladdened Randi’s heart, but surely the older woman was exaggerating. “He’s been absolutely wonderful, but…”

“Time will tell, my dear. Be patient.” Mina removed the towel from Randi’s trembling hands. “Let’s go outside and enjoy this nice fall evening. The men shouldn’t have all the fun.”

* * *

On the terrace Randi eased down into a lounge chair and watched David and Jamie wrestle in the grass. A sensation of pure contentment stole over her and wrapped her in easy comfort.

She turned to Mina. “Dinner was wonderful, Mina. Thank you for having us. For everything.”

“It is my privilege. I’m so glad that David thought of us. So rarely do we have visitors from the U.K.—at least none we are so happy to see.” Mina turned to her husband. “Jean-Luc, why don’t you play some music for us?”

Randi’s ears pricked. “Music? Oh, yes, please.”

Jean-Luc grumbled, but with good nature, “She doesn’t want to talk to me, so she asks me to play. I am wise to her tricks.” The older man hauled his cumbersome self out of his chair and ambled into the house, returning a moment later with an old violin.

David turned to Randi, a wide grin spread across his handsome face. “Did you know Miranda plays?”

“
Bon
!” Jean-Luc declared. “You will play for us, Ran-dee?”

“Yes, but you must go first. I warn you I’m very rusty.”

Jean-Luc drew the bow across the strings, then frowned at the sound. “Just a little adjustment.” He tightened the E string and drew the bow again. “
Parfait!
” he pronounced, and then launched into an old folk tune which Randi immediately recognized as
Sur le Pont d’Avignon
.

After the rollicking tune which had young Jamie up on his feet, dancing, Jean-Luc paused and extended the violin toward Randi. “Now you must play us something from your country,
s’il vous plaît.”

Randi nodded her assent and took the violin from Jean-Luc’s gnarled hands. “I’ll play you our state song.” She drew the bow across the violin, the melodic strains of
The Tennessee Waltz
filling the night air.

After she completed the waltz, Jean-Luc stood and clapped. “
Bien
, Ran-dee!
C’est bon.”

“Mummy, play
Rocky Top
. Jean-Luc, you’ll like that one. It’s bouncy.”

Randi looked from Mina to Jean-Luc to David whose eyes were actually closed. It was the first time she’d seen the taut lines of tension erased from his lean face.

“
Rocky Top, Tennessee
it is,” she said with a nod, then launched into the sprightly tune. Jamie sang, charmingly off key, “Once I had a girl on Rocky Top,” then fell to humming when he didn’t know the words, but intoned, “Rocky Top, Tennessee,” during the chorus.

Randi lost herself in the energy and rhythm of the country tune, until it came to an end.

“
Encore, encore
!” Jean-Luc prompted.

“Something classical, dear?” Mina suggested. “I believe David told me that you play with chamber groups as well.”

“All right.” Soon the lyrical strains of the second movement of Beethoven’s Violin Concerto rose through the valley, soaring into the night. Swept up in the mood and imagery of the music, Randi became the violin, the music. When the last note faded, she heard a collective sigh of appreciation.

“That was simply lovely, dear,” Mina told her, pulling her sweater tighter around her shoulders. “Why don’t we go in? It’s getting too cool for these old bones. Besides, I think your son has fallen asleep.”

Randi nodded. “He’s been conditioned. Whenever he has trouble going to sleep, I play for him until he does.”

* * *

Randi tapped on David’s door. She heard sounds of his moving about through the door, then it opened. Apparently he’d been getting ready for bed. His shirt was unbuttoned and pulled out of his jeans. Her breath caught in her throat when she caught sight of his broad, muscular chest and washboard abs. She felt his arms surround her, pulling her into his strong embrace.

“You played beautifully,” he murmured in a voice so soft and seductive it sent ripples of desire to the pit of her belly.

“Thank you,” she said, as he maneuvered her into his bedroom and kicked the door shut behind him.

“It’s paid a few bills,” she quipped before she could stop herself. Lord, why was she so nervous? David would never hurt her, not physically anyway.

“Is Jamie asleep?”

“Yes, he’s all tucked in.”

“Have you come to tuck
me
in?”

She bit her lip and tilted her head to the side. “You’re a big boy. Do you need to be tucked in?”

“I might do.” He closed the short distance between them, his gaze never leaving her eyes. “Depends on who’s doing the tucking.”

“And would it be presumptuous to assume the
who
would be me?” she asked, trying to keep her tone light so he wouldn’t know how scared she really was. She was just no good at sex.

Stefan had told her so countless times.

“No, you’d be right on target.”