Romantic Getaways Collection. Liz Fielding
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with her would make him the happiest man in the world. She’d be an incredible mother: caring, brave and compassionate, and would fight tooth and nail for her children’s happiness and security, making sure they knew how loved they were, how wanted.
‘I am brave now,’ she said. ‘I refuse to be afraid of the future any more. We’ll take life as it comes, you and I, and deal with anything it throws at us together.’
‘I like your style, Elena Jones,’ he murmured, bending to kiss her hard and let her know just how much he meant that.
‘And I like yours, Caleb Araya,’ she said once she’d got her breath back.
And with that sentiment lifting his heart he took her hand in his and led her out of the cold empty hallway and into the shelter of his home.
Two years later
IT WAS UNSEASONABLY warm for London in February as Caleb strode through Green Park on his way to meet Elena by the Tube station and he loosened his tie and undid the top button of his shirt, finding relief as the gentle breeze hit his heated skin. He was taking her out for high tea at The Ritz to celebrate her recent design award for her Zipabout cars and was running a little late after a meeting in the City had gone on longer than he’d anticipated.
They’d both been astonished and delighted by the huge impact that the Zipabout cars had had on the electric car industry and Elena was already deep into the design and pre-manufacture of a new model on the back of its success. He was ridiculously proud of all she’d achieved and infinitely delighted to be able to say he’d played some small part in it.
He saw the cars everywhere he went now, both here in England, where they spent big chunks of time in order for Elena to keep in close contact with her company, and also in Spain, where they’d made a permanent home together in the Pedralbes area in the district of Les Corts, which they’d chosen for its wide avenues and green open spaces as well as the spectacular views towards Barcelona.
He hadn’t needed much persuasion to move from his rather sequestered, cavernous flat in L’Eixample and into a comfortable four-bed house set within a friendly community of families and professionals, and for the first time in his life he felt truly settled where he lived. Content.
As he rounded the bend near the station his gaze alighted on a figure walking towards him, her long blonde hair glowing in the soft winter sunshine and her cheeks flushed with colour.
The most beautiful woman in the world.
His wife.
She waved when she saw him, her mouth curving into a beatific smile that both melted his heart and made his pulse race. Despite all the time they spent together now, he still hated being separated from her, rushing at the end of each day to get back home. Not a day went by when he didn’t thank his lucky stars for the accident that had brought them together, even if it had been in the most dramatic and extraordinary of ways.
Blessedly, he’d been physically fine after all the bruising had finally gone down and after a few more weeks the rest of his memory had returned in full, along with a sense of regret for all the time he’d spent hanging on to the anger from his past that had kept him so isolated from the rest of the world.
But there were no regrets about his life now.
There were times, of course, when he and Elena butted heads but, instead of being afraid of the conflict they embraced it, getting any bottled-up feelings out into the open and using it as a kind of catharsis. They found as long as they kept communicating they were able to work through anything that crossed their path and Caleb made sure to tell Elena every day just how much he loved her.
Returning her smile, he glanced down in love-struck awe at her belly, which was straining against the trench coat she was wearing. In about three months’ time there would be someone else for him to love with the same kind of fierce abandon too. Their child.
‘Hello, beautiful,’ he said as they reached each other and he drew her towards him for a kiss, savouring the feel of her mouth on his and breathing in her reassuring scent.
‘How was your meeting?’ she asked with a breathy laugh when he finally let her go.
‘It went well, I think, though they were more impressed by the fact I’m married to you,’ he said, gently brushing her hair away from her face to gaze into her eyes. ‘My incredible, talented wife.’
She raised both eyebrows in an expression of wry modesty, then smiled, unable to keep a straight face. ‘I couldn’t have done it without you,’ she murmured, sliding her hands up to cup his jaw and leaning forwards to kiss him firmly on the lips. ‘So let’s go and celebrate our perfect partnership.’
And with that they linked hands and walked together to their next destination, driven on by the excitement of all the new adventures they had lying ahead of them.
* * * * *
EXCLUSIVE EXTRACT
Pastry chef Gemma Rizzo never expected to see Vincenzo Gagliardi again. And now he’s not just the duke who left her broken-hearted…he’s her boss!
Read on for a sneak preview of
RETURN OF HER ITALIAN DUKE
Since he’d returned to Italy, thoughts of Gemma had come back full force. At times he’d been so preoccupied, the guys were probably ready to give up on him. To think that after all this time and searching for her, she was right here. Bracing himself, he took the few steps necessary to reach Takis’s office.
With the door ajar he could see a polished-looking woman in a blue-and-white suit with dark honey-blond hair falling to her shoulders. She stood near the desk with her head bowed, so he couldn’t yet see her profile.
Vincenzo swallowed hard to realize Gemma was no longer the teenager with short hair he used to spot when she came bounding up the stone steps of the castello from school wearing her uniform. She’d grown into a curvaceous woman.
“Gemma.” He said her name, but it came out gravelly.
A sharp intake of breath reverberated in the office. She wheeled around. Those unforgettable brilliant green eyes with the darker green rims fastened on him. A stillness seemed to surround her. She grabbed hold of the desk.
“Vincenzo—I—I think I must be hallucinating.”
“I’m in the same condition.” His gaze fell on the lips he’d kissed that unforgettable night. Their shape hadn’t changed, nor the lovely mold of her facial features.
She appeared to have trouble catching her breath. “What’s going on? I don’t understand.”
“Please sit down and I’ll tell you.”
He could see she was trembling. When she didn’t do his bidding, he said, “I have a better idea. Let’s go for a ride in my car. It’s parked out front. We’ll drive to the lake at the back of the estate, where no one will bother us. Maybe by the time we reach it, your shock will have worn off enough to talk to me.”
Hectic color spilled into her cheeks. “Surely you’re joking. After ten years of silence, you suddenly show up here this morning, honestly thinking I would go anywhere with you?”
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RETURN OF HER ITALIAN DUKE
by Rebecca Winters
Available March 2017