By Melody Thomas
An obsession that blooms into scandal
Since adolescence, Ryan Donally loved Rachel Bailey, even though the bright, appealing lass observed him as simply one other rowdy boy. The years pulled them aside, sporting Rachel to a spot of accountability and recognize few girls of her time loved . . . whereas Ryan ascended to undreamed-of heights of wealth and good fortune, and sure his center to another.
Now destiny has introduced them jointly as soon as again—and Rachel sees no longer the boy she as soon as spurned, yet a panoramic guy she wants. but Ryan has moved on and is unwilling to forgive, and Rachel hides a mystery disgrace which may wreck every little thing she has labored for. Then, in a single second of unrestrained ardour, the partitions among them tumble, and the cost they need to pay is a wedding neither can find the money for. yet will a sensuous hearth too-long resisted carry tragedy . . . or will it forge an excellent and timeless love?
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He swung his daughter into his arms, and, giggling, she ﬂung her arms around his neck. “She should not be allowed to sleep so late,” Miss Peabody said. Holding his hand against his daughter’s baby-ﬁne curls, he pressed his mouth against her hair. She smelled like sweet clover. ” “No, sir. ” Ryan looked over her head at the gray-haired nanny. ” “No, sir. I left the door open between our rooms to make sure. It was my opinion that she should not have been allowed to play so long outside yesterday, sir,” Miss Peabody said pointedly to the elderly man who stood like a military sentry at the door.
He wanted Rachel to go back to Ireland. “Mr. ” One of his servants approached. Ryan pushed off the tree to take the message she delivered, then squinted looking toward the house. His solicitor stood on the terrace. ” She dipped into a brief curtsy. For once, Ryan was relieved to forsake pleasure for business. Flashes of blue appeared above the sprawl of tree limbs as a puff of wind carried the overhead cloud bank south. Rachel watched a pair of robins dart between banks of honeysuckle that seemed to be growing everywhere.
The robe covered her completely. She even wore slippers that covered her bare feet. ” Rachel looked past him to the room he’d just exited. “She’s supping,” he said. ” Folding her arms around her satchel, she observed him coolly. “Truly even you weren’t born with the gift of fatherhood. ” His tall calf-hugging boots gave him the advantage of another inch of height, and she tilted back her head, refusing to fall victim to his poor humor. ” He strolled past, leaving her to stare at his back. ” Rachel followed his long-legged stride.