Catch Me in Castile (29 page)

The eighteenth century letters resurrect the tragic love story of Sarah, a woman who was mysteriously erased from the family history. A woman whose love for a rich and powerful lord forms a disturbing parallel to Jez’s life. Is it a warning not to succumb to her boss—or risk suffering the same unhappy fate?

Piers Cordeaux knows his advances are forcing Jez into a corner, but he can’t seem to help himself. Something about her reaches deep inside him, awakening needs that all his money can’t satisfy. He can’t shake the conviction that they are meant for each other.

As Jez tries to ignore her growing attraction to Piers, she is drawn deeper into her ancestor’s desperate story. And she begins to wonder if her connection to Piers is an accident…or the work of a ghost whose determination to claim his lady reaches across two centuries of time.

Warning: This book contains two love triangles, a lonely ghost whose passion persists beyond the grave, and dashing heroes who may haunt your dreams.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Moonshadows:

“Brandy, coffee or both?” Piers noticed her hesitation and added, “I’m having both.”

“Then I’ll have the same, thank you.” She leaned back against the cushions and gave an exaggerated sigh. “This is heaven. So peaceful.”

Piers settled himself on one end of the sofa and turned so that he could watch her, one arm resting along the back of the cushions and a faint smile in his dark eyes. “You wouldn’t prefer to finish the evening clubbing in Birmingham?”

“No way. I’m not a party animal. I prefer a small gathering of friends, or even curling up at home with a good book. Very boring. But what about you, what do you do when you are not working?”

“When I can take a few weeks off I like to go sailing, or skiing. Do you sail?’

“No, but I’ve been skiing a couple of times.” She sipped at her brandy and looked up to find Piers giving her an appraising glance. Was he thinking how good she would look in ski pants? The thought warmed her even more than the spirit in her glass.

“What about when you’re in London?” she asked. ‘“Where do you go?”

“I rarely go out in town, except for a meal with a few close friends, maybe.”

“But there’s so much going on in London! What about the theatre? You must have the best shows in the country. Just think of it, all those plays and new productions, not to mention the musicals. Then there’s the ballet and opera—God, if I lived in London I’d want to go to something new at least once a week!”

“Not much fun on your own.”

She laughed at him.

“Poor little rich boy! Don’t tell me you can’t find someone to go with you. You are always being photographed with some gorgeous blonde on your arm.”

Hell, she shouldn’t have said that, he would think she was jealous. She put down her glass. The brandy was making her reckless.

Piers merely shrugged. “Yes, but that’s usually when I’ve been invited to attend something as Chairman of CME, not plain old Piers Cordeaux. Besides, most of ’em don’t actually like the arts much.”

She said quietly, “It must be very lonely at the top.”

“You get used to it. Now what’s wrong—are you feeling sorry for me?”

Alarm bells were clamouring in her head. The conversation was getting dangerous. Jez sought frantically for a flippant response.

She opened her eyes wide. “What, impoverished Jez Skelton pitying the rich Mr. Cordeaux? Impossible!”

“I’m not so sure you’re impressed by my money.”

“I’m not. I’m more impressed that you are such a nice guy, despite your money and power. At least you don’t flaunt your success in people’s faces.”

“Thank you.”

“Sorry. That sounds like I’m creeping.” She looked up to find him watching her, smiling. Her stomach lurched and dissolved within her. She looked away quickly from those disturbing deep blue eyes. “Is that the time? I’d better get some sleep if I’m going to be fit for anything tomorrow.”

“I’ll see you to your room.”

The thick carpets deadened their footsteps in the empty corridors as they made their way through the old part of the hotel. With Piers at her side, Jez’s nerves were at full stretch. She wanted to take his hand, put her arm through his. To belong.

“Um—are we meeting up with Lavinia tomorrow? I’ll need a lift back to Filchester.”

“They will be having a sales briefing first at their hotel. Don’t worry. I’ll drive you home.”

“Thank you.”

They had reached her room but before Jez could speak again, Piers wished her good night and was walking away. She stepped inside and closed the door.

“Damn, damn, damn!” She threw her bag down in disgust. Here she was, dressed to kill and she had let him walk off without even a goodnight kiss. Perhaps he didn’t fancy her—but that was not the point, she argued with herself. She knew she looked good in the cream dress, she had been aware of him looking at her several times during the evening. So why hadn’t he tried anything?

Because you told him you’re not available, came the obvious reply, but it did not satisfy her. She paced the room restlessly. “Oh this is stupid!” she said aloud. “Go run yourself a bath and forget it. You know very well you can’t have him.”

But she had never felt such a strong attraction before, not even for Harry when they had first started going out together. She perched on the edge of the bath, watching the hot water pour in. It was obviously a case of wanting what was not available. She reached for one of the complimentary packets of bath oil and poured it into the water. She might as well pamper herself.

As she was about to step into the bath, there was a sudden knock at the door. Jez froze. Excitement swept through her. Calm down, she told herself sternly. It’s probably room service with the wrong number. Probably.

Pulling on her robe, Jez opened the door cautiously. She was expecting to find Piers there but even so, when she saw him in the doorway, her heart gave a somersault. She fell back automatically, and he stepped into the room. He was still wearing his dinner jacket, but he had discarded the black tie.

He held up the bottle of champagne and glasses that he was carrying. “I thought this might just finish off the evening.”

Jez’s insides were mimicking the fizz of the champagne as she looked up at him. The glint in his eyes sent a shiver through her.

“I—um—I was just going to have a bath…”

His mouth curved into a slow grin.

“Then we can share that, too.” He kicked the door shut. “Champagne now, or shall I put it in the minibar for later?”

She couldn’t take her eyes from his face while her brain seemed to have stopped working. Piers was here, in her room. She watched, rooted to the spot, while he put down the champagne.

“I’m breaking my own rules here,” he said, reaching for her.

“R-rules?”

“I never mix business with pleasure. At least, I haven’t until now.”

As he drew her towards him Jez felt a wave of joyous exultation. It was a heady mix of excitement, pleasure and, yes, lust. She lifted her head, her lips parting to receive his kiss.

Nine curses. Nine weeks to live. Joel Hatcher has inherited more than a family legacy. It’s a time bomb that’s ticking down to the inevitable: his own death. But the curse won’t die with him. Unless he can find a way to break the cycle, his younger brother becomes the next victim.

In the throes of the third curse, the Painful Pox, Joel makes a last-ditch decision to seek the help of a young spiritualist.

One look into Joel’s suffering eyes, and “Madame Eugenie” finds herself torn between doing the right thing and fulfilling her most secret wish—bring her husband Adam back from the dead. Joel’s cursed blood is the missing ingredient in her resurrection rituals, and Adam’s spirit whispers seductively that there’s only one way to get it: steal it.

As Gen and Joel unearth his family’s past to track down a cure, they come closer to each other, and to a horrible truth. To live, Joel must lose everything. Up to and including the woman he has grown to love.

Warning: This book contains curses, sacrifices, a ghostly husband, a crazy cat and a love that defies all odds.

Up ahead she stopped. He heard the squeak of an unoiled hinge. A gate swung open. Gen passed into the clearing beyond.

When Joel slipped through the gate, he knew where she had led him. A graveyard. Probably the same one where she had acquired graveyard dust for his cure yesterday. The gravestones were pale and eerie, rising out of the mists. The fog lifted, and a brilliant full moon shone down, illuminating the cemetery in ethereal light. Joel hunkered behind a large stone crypt, where a limestone angel peered down at him.

Gen moved between the grave markers, touching each one with a light caress. From so far away, he couldn’t discern her emotional state, but her movements were stilted and slow. She stopped in the middle of the cemetery and raised her hands to the moon as if in supplication to the quiet, distant rock. A sing-song murmur filled the air. The words were just beyond his hearing. Gen kept her hands upraised and swayed in rhythm to them. A cry escaped her lips, and she fell to her knees.

Joel wanted to go to her, but he instinctually knew Gen did not want to share this with him. It would be an intrusion on her privacy.

From her bag, Gen removed some objects. She set them one at a time on the ground. He was too far away to see what they were.

Gen started a small fire and threw different items into the flame. Each time the blaze grew larger, her words grew louder.

Joel could just make them out now.

May angle sar te merel kadi yag, opre, Adam!

May angle sar te merel kadi yag, opre, Adam!

May angle sar te merel kadi yag, opre, Adam!

She lit a fat yellow candle from the fire’s odd, red flame. A shadowy figure stepped out from behind a gravestone just behind her, tall and broad shouldered. A man. He drew closer.

Gen remained unaware this man was mere steps away—

“No!” Joel jerked forward, wanting to protect her.

Gen whipped her head around. “Who’s there?”

The shadow man turned too, but evaporated into the mist.

Were his eyes playing tricks on him?

Joel revealed himself. “It’s me, Gen. It’s me.”

“What are you doing here? Did you follow me?” She backed away, keeping the fire between them. “What did you see?”

“A man, I think,” Joel said. Her eyes were big and round, her mouth half-opened…like a creature of the night, startled by a human passing through her territory. Her face was ashen. “Does this have something to do with the curses? Who was that…man?”

“Who said I was doing this for you?” Gen kicked dirt over the strange red fire. “Do you have any idea what you’ve just done, Joel?”

“What
I’ve
done?” He took a step toward her. “What do you mean?”

“You can’t just wander in here…I didn’t ask for you to be here. Now it won’t work. You’ve ruined it.”

“What won’t work? What are you talking about?” As he came closer, he could see her eyes were filled with unshed tears.

“It’s personal.” She snatched up the things on the ground and stuffed them back in her bag. “Just forget it.”

“I don’t understand…if you’d just explain.”

“I don’t want to explain. It’s none of your business. Just leave me alone.” She brushed past him.

He caught her elbow. “What are you so darn upset about? I can’t sleep, and there you are outside talking to someone in the middle of the night. And when I follow you, you come out here…and…and do this.”

She tugged it free. “Go back to your brother. Go back to your life and leave me out of it. You don’t want to be messed up with me.”

“I’m already messed up with you. You made it that way. You came along with us. Helped me with these curses. What am I supposed to do, just pretend I can do this without you?”

Gen stopped her movements. “I’m sorry, Joel. Please don’t ask me to explain. I want to help you, but that doesn’t mean you get to know everything about me. I have to have my privacy.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

She slung her bag over her shoulder and made her way to the open gate at the other end of the cemetery. “Then let’s go back. Let’s just get some sleep.”

“Wait.” Joel caught up to her. “You still haven’t answered my question. Who or what was that back there?”

She turned. The moonlight lit up her face, her eyes glowing. She made a little sound, a gasp, like the sound an animal makes when it’s caught in a trap.

Joel could sense her heart racing. The tight dilation of her pupils, even in the dark, told him she feared him or feared he might find something out. Lightly, he grasped her upper arm. Her skin was cool. A night wind blew her hair across her forehead, which hid her eyes from him.

Here in this moonlit graveyard, she looked like the limestone angel that had been standing guard over him earlier. All cut angles and hard surfaces. But her skin. Her skin was soft and pliant under his hand. He slid his fingertips over her shoulder, across her collarbone, under her chin and forced her to look at him. “Tell me. He was going to hurt you.”

“You didn’t see anything. It was a trick of the dark.” She tried to pull her chin out of his grasp, but he tightened his hold.

“You’re lying.”

Gen clutched her bag closer to her body. She blinked back tears. “Please don’t ask me to explain.”

“Would it really be so terrible to tell me?” He took a step toward her. She didn’t move.

“I told you I don’t want to explain. It’s very personal to me and—”

The emotions she had so clearly been trying to keep in check came flooding out in one quick burst. He couldn’t resist. He had to make the tears stop. He let go of her chin, curved his arm around her waist, pulled her close and kissed her. A light, sweet kiss. Her scent reminded him of strawberries and sunshine. He drank it in, wanting to absorb her into himself.

Her mouth opened to his, inviting him into her warmth. He groaned at the invitation and deepened the kiss, their tongues meeting furtively. He moved his hand up to her shoulder and under her jaw, keeping her soft lips against his. When his other hand brushed across the curve of her backside, she put her hands on his chest and pushed.

Gen broke away. “Don’t.”

He stood there, his arms empty, but still feeling her heat, her softness. Her kiss burned his lips. He touched his fingers there and watched as she made her way to the gate, slipping past its rusted iron bars and into the woods.