Heavenly Angels Page 7

  ‘What a houseful we’re going to have this year!’ Nick shook his head ruefully as he strolled over, still carrying two-year-old Beth; the little girl was in her favourite place of all. Her father’s arms.

  ‘No more hectic than usual.’ Bethany smiled as she stood up, still sometimes having to pinch herself at how happy she was. Whoever would have believed, when she’d gone to start her job with Samantha Fairfax five years ago, as nanny to her two children—soon to be three—that she would meet someone as wonderful as Nick? And it had all happened so dramatically too—Nick snatching her, literally, from the jaws of death when she’d run out into the road to stop the family dog from being run over.

  The last five years had been good to her, and she was sure that she fell more in love with her husband every day they were together. Their home in the English countryside was always full of love and laughter, and children, and happiness.

  ‘Time for the angel, Mummy.’ Richard jumped up and down with excitement as he handed her the angel to place on top of the tree.

  Bethany was never quite sure how this family tradition had begun, but every year it was the same, Nick and the children always insisting that she be the one to place the golden angel on top of their Christmas tree.

  ‘I think perhaps we should just wait a while for the other children to arrive.’ She gently tried to delay the moment.

  The two families—Nick’s ex-wife and his three children, and Sam’s second husband and Nick’s business partner, Robert—always spent the holiday period together, and this year it was Nick and Bethany’s turn to play host and hostess.

  ‘Oh, but—’ Peter broke off his disappointed protest as the doorbell rang. ‘Here they are. Here they are!’

  Nick put the baby down on the floor, he and Bethany watching as their three children rushed from the room to greet their uncle and aunty and their three half-siblings.

  Nick moved to Bethany’s side, putting his arm about her shoulders to gaze down at her with adoring eyes. ‘Have I told you yet today that I love you, Mrs Rafferty?’ His mouth trailed a path of passion down her throat.

  ‘I believe so.’ Bethany smiled as she remembered the completely satisfactory way he had told her earlier in bed this morning that he loved her. ‘But I don’t mind in the least if you tell me again.’ She snuggled closer in his arms.

  ‘I love you so much, Bethany Anne Rafferty,’ he murmured huskily, looking deeply into her eyes as he cradled her face in his hands.

  ‘I love you too, Nick,’ she told him warmly.

  He smiled. ‘I have a feeling this is going to be our best Christmas yet!’

  She laughed throatily. ‘You say that every year!’

  He pretended indignation at her humour at his expense. ‘And am I not always right?’

  ‘Invariably.’ She nodded solemnly, containing her humour with effort. ‘Actually, this year is going to be rather special.’ She looked up at him. ‘Sam and Robert have an important announcement to make.’

  Nick frowned his puzzlement. ‘What sort of an announcement? It can’t be business, because Robert and I are still in the middle of this—’

  ‘Sam is pregnant, Nick,’ Bethany put in quietly, watching him closely.

  He had been very angry and hurt when Sam had first fallen in love with his friend and business partner Robert Fairfax, but over the years, and with their own happiness so tangible, he had come to accept the situation, and he and Robert had even gone back into business together four years ago. Bethany and Sam had become very good friends—both of them being extremely happy with their respective husbands—which had made it all so much easier for the children. But, even so, Bethany wasn’t quite sure about Nick’s reaction to Sam’s pregnancy…

  ‘That’s great!’ Nick enthused instantly.

  Much to Bethany’s relief. She had promised Sam she would break the news to Nick before the announcement was made, just so that he wouldn’t be too surprised. It was all right; she had thought it would be.

  ‘I know the two of them have wanted a child of their own for years.’ Nick nodded. ‘My only concern is Sam’s age…’ he added frowningly. ‘She’s thirty-nine now, and—’

  ‘Both Sam and the baby will be fine,’ Bethany assured him with certainty—instantly feeling a wave of déjà vu as she made the claim.

  This happened to her occasionally. Her foreknowledge was always unexplainable, and she was never quite sure where her certainty came from, but it usually turned out to be correct. She certainly hoped it was where Sam and her baby were concerned; the other couple deserved the happiness of their own child.

  ‘My little know-all.’ Nick tapped her affectionately on the nose.

  Not really, she just seemed to know some things with certainty. As she did with her love for Nick, and his love for her. It was for ever.

  ‘The angel now, Mummy!’ Peter demanded excitedly, once they were all standing around the tree a few minutes later, greetings kept to the minimum by the childrens’ overflowing excitement.

  Bethany reached up to the very top, placing the golden-winged, golden-haired angel carefully on the highest branch, then moving back to Nick’s side as awed silence fell over them all.

  ‘I don’t know whether it’s my imagination,’ Nick finally murmured softly, ‘but our angel seems to glow a little brighter this year. And for a moment—’ he sounded slightly awed ‘—just a fleeting moment, I could have sworn her hair was as red as yours!’ He looked at Bethany dazedly.

  She had thought the same thing herself. Only fleetingly. But, just for the briefest moment, the angel had looked a little like her.

  But it looked perfectly normal again now—the same angel she and Nick had purchased from a shop together four years ago. Their feelings of it being otherwise were probably due to an overindulgence in the wine they had been sipping as they’d put up the tree and decorations!

  ‘I hope you all made a wish!’ she said brightly.

  Her wish had been that her happiness as Nick’s wife and mother of his children would never change. And as she glanced up at the angel on top of the tree she could have sworn it smiled conspiratorially at her…

  * * * * *

  Now, read on for a tantalizing excerpt of USA TODAY bestselling author

  Jennie Lucas’ next book,

  THE HEIR THE PRINCE SECURES

  An exquisite encounter with a Sicilian leaves Tess alone, penniless and pregnant. Until Stefano returns, discovers his unknown heir, and reveals he’s royalty! Now to protect his tiny daughter, he’ll make Tess his Cinderella bride!

  Keep reading to get a glimpse of

  THE HEIR THE PRINCE SECURES

  CHAPTER ONE

  LOVE MEANT EVERYTHING to Tess Foster.

  NOT JUST LOVE. Romance. Pink roses. Castles and hearts.

  As a lonely teenager living in the attic of her aunt and uncle’s Brooklyn bakery, Tess tried to keep her romantic dreams secret. In a modern world of easy hookups and one-night stands, it was embarrassing, even shameful, to be an idealistic virgin waiting for true love. As other girls giggled over their first fumbling sexual experiences in the back seats of cars, Tess kept quiet and hoped no one would notice that she spent her own Saturday nights with dusty books in the library, dreaming of handsome princes.

  She’d known, even then, that when she finally gave herself to a man, it would only be to someone she truly loved. She’d wear white on her wedding day and lose her virginity on their honeymoon. She’d settle for nothing less than the fairy tale.

  Then, at twenty-four, she met Stefano.

  One moment, she’d been working as a waitress at a glamorous cocktail party hosted by a Spanish media mogul. Carrying a silver tray of champagne flutes through a crowd of movie stars and tycoons, Tess had been lost in thought, worrying whether she’d be able to afford another semester of design school.

  Then a handsome stranger’s dark, smoldering gaze had pierced her heart, making her lose her breath.

  That had been it. That one look from hi
m had almost brought her to her knees.

  Because no one had ever looked at her like that. It was as if Tess, the hopeless, invisible wallflower, had suddenly become the most desirable, fascinating woman in all the world.

  And the man who was looking at her…

  Dark and sexy, he’d stood arrogantly apart, his perfectly cut tuxedo a mere veneer of civilization over his powerful, muscular body. His dark eyes had burned through her as he came toward her, moving with an almost feline grace.

  “Buonasera,” he’d said huskily.

  Tess had turned the silver tray toward him so fast the flutes nearly knocked over. Her voice had squeaked. “Champagne?”

  “No.” With a sensual smile, he’d glanced at the martini already in his hand. “I don’t want champagne.”

  “Something else, then?”

  His voice was husky, with the barest trace of an accent. “I want your name.”

  And that had been the start of the most spectacular night of Tess’s life. When she’d finished her shift at the party, he’d whisked her off in his chauffeured town car to an elegant, romantic dinner at the most exclusive restaurant in New York. Afterward, he’d suggested they go dancing. When she’d said she didn’t have a dress, he’d stopped at a designer boutique and bought her one that sparkled and swayed against her skin.

  She’d tried to resist, but she couldn’t. Not when he’d looked at her like that.

  Tess had danced in his arms for hours before he’d kissed her, leaving her intoxicated, breathless. He’d invited her to his suite at the luxurious Leighton Hotel. Looking into his dark, hungry eyes, she’d known only one answer.

  “Yes,” she’d whispered.

  In just one night, he’d ruthlessly taken her virginity. And more than that: he’d dazzled her lonely, romantic heart into loving him.

  But the next morning, waking up alone in the cold, gray dawn, she realized that she’d never even learned his full name.

  A few weeks later, she’d found out she was pregnant. Her uncle had been furious, her aunt disappointed in her.

  For the last fourteen months, even as Tess’s two best friends, Hallie Hatfield and Lola Price, had rolled their eyes, she’d stubbornly insisted that Stefano would someday return to claim her and their baby. After all, even if she didn’t know his last name, he knew hers. Stefano could find her anytime he wanted.

  If he hadn’t come yet, there had to be a good reason. Maybe he had amnesia, or his plane had crashed on a desert island. Those things happened, didn’t they? Tess imagined every reason she could think of, except for the obvious one. Her friends thought she was nuts.

  But Tess had to believe Stefano would return. Because, otherwise, she’d surrendered all her dreams for nothing. She’d given up her chance for a career, for marriage, for one love that would last her whole life—all for a one-night stand that had left her pregnant, abandoned and alone.

  If Stefano didn’t come back, it would mean the world was a cold and unforgiving place, and all the fairy tales her mother had read her as a child were wrong. Tess didn’t want to live in a world like that. So she’d done her best to believe.

  Suddenly, tonight, she couldn’t.

  Not for one more second.

  Tess’s shoulders drooped as she wearily pushed her five-month-old baby’s stroller out of the Campania Hotel New York. It was ten o’clock on a warm, humid night in early September, but the night was just getting started. The streets were crowded with people leaving restaurants and streaming out of Broadway theaters, their faces animated and bright as they passed beneath the sparkling lights of the hotel’s porte cochere.

  Tess felt empty and sad. She’d just watched her friend Hallie sing at her husband’s luxury hotel. After Hallie’s amazing performance, Cristiano had publicly declared his love for his wife.

  She was glad for Hallie, truly she was. Her friend deserved every happiness, especially after what she’d gone through. Normally, Tess would have told herself that seeing a couple so deeply in love proved that it might still happen for her, too.

  But not tonight.

  She’d been up since four that morning, working at her uncle’s bakery while also caring for her baby. She felt sweaty and exhausted. Tendrils of her long red hair were plastered to her neck. Even Tess’s jaunty handmade outfit, a vintage-style shirt and midi pencil skirt with mixing patterns, was wrinkled. She looked down at her adorable sleeping baby, her plump cheeks and dark hair, and a hard lump rose to her throat.

  For over a year, she’d ignored her uncle’s criticism, her aunt’s disappointed sighs and her friends’ teasing. She’d told herself Stefano would come back to her. But after seeing Hallie and Cristiano together, so happy together in their own little world, Tess had realized she was fooling herself.

  Give it up. A memory came of Lola’s tart voice. He’s never coming back, Tess.

  Tess stopped. As streams of people passed by her stroller on both sides of the sidewalk, she savagely wiped tears off her cheeks. She’d planned to take the subway back to Brooklyn with her baby rather than ask Hallie for a ride and risk crying in front of her. Her friends always teased her about being too cheerful and optimistic. She couldn’t let them know how she really felt inside.

  But that was wrong. Hallie was her friend, and Tess had left without so much as a farewell. Taking a deep breath, she tried to smooth her face into a smile. She’d go back inside now and congratulate Hallie. And if she asked why Tess was crying—

  As Tess started to turn, she walked into a wall.

  Not a wall. A man.

  For a second, she saw stars from the blunt force of hitting her head against his chest. Dizzy, she shook her head, mortified.

  “I’m so sorry,” she blurted out. “It was my fault—”

  Then she saw him.

  For a second, Tess couldn’t breathe. Her heart pounded in her throat as she tilted her head back to stare at the man’s handsome face, his sharp cheekbones and jawline shadowed by the lights of the hotel’s grand porte cochere.

  Tall and dark-haired, the man wore a sleek black jacket that emphasized his broad shoulders, and trousers that fit snugly over powerful thighs. His tailored shirt was open a single button at the neck.

  He wasn’t strictly handsome, perhaps. His aquiline profile was a bit too arrogant, the set of his square jaw too thuggish. But he gave the impression of intense masculine beauty. His face was arresting, his body powerful, giving him the look of a dark angel.

  The man’s eyes widened, the irises so dark as to be almost black against his olive-colored skin.

  Tess’s lips parted.

  “Stefano?” she whispered, gripping the handle of the stroller for balance. “Is it really you?”

  She knew those dark eyes. That handsome face. Those cruel, sensual lips. She knew every bit of him. She’d dreamed of him, day and night, for over a year.

  “Tess,” he murmured.

  His low, husky voice caressed the short syllable of her name. So he was real, then. He was real.

  “You came back for me,” she whispered. Joy rose inside her, brighter than all the lights of Broadway and Times Square put together. “You came back!”

  His jaw tightened. He looked down at her from his lofty height, his broad shoulders towering over her. “What do you want?”

  What did she want? She wanted to throw her arms around him, to cry out her happiness to all the world. After a difficult year, with everyone mocking her, this proved that happy endings still happened as long as your heart was true and you had faith. She’d been right!

  But, as Tess moved to throw her arms around him, Stefano stepped back from her.

  Something was wrong. She bit her lip, bewildered. “I am so happy to see you. Did you just get back?”

  “Get back?”

  “To New York.” When he didn’t answer, she continued with a blush, “Our night together, you said that you had to return to Europe but you’d be back soon—”

  “Oh. Yes.” His chiseled face was dark with sha
dow beneath his hard cheekbones as the lights of passing traffic moved past them on the avenue. “I’ve been in New York often this summer. And now for Fashion Week, of course.”

  “You’ve been here all this time?” A chill went through her as her joy withered inside her. She whispered, “And you didn’t want to see me?”

  Stefano frowned. His voice was a low baritone. “I liked you very much, Tess. It was an amazing night. But…”

  “But?” she croaked.

  Coming closer, he looked down at her, his dark eyes glittering. “But it was just a night.”

  To him it had just been a one-night stand, nothing more? One night, easily enjoyed and easily forgotten?

  Tess’s cheeks went hot as she remembered telling him in bed, in the hushed quiet before dawn with their naked bodies still intertwined, “I’m already falling in love with you.”

  In her innocence, Tess had meant every word. She’d been intoxicated by sensual pleasure she’d never imagined. In just twelve hours, he’d given her the most intense happiness of her life, more emotion and joy and beauty than she’d known for twelve years before. If that wasn’t love, what was?

  Now, looking at his coldly handsome face, Tess realized that her honesty had been a fatal mistake. Because when she woke the next morning, he’d been gone.

  “Your Highness!” A young girl caught up behind him on the sidewalk. She was obviously a model—tall, slender, dark-haired and incredibly beautiful in a white dress that set off her dark skin. She held out a small notebook to Stefano. “You forgot this.”

  “Thanks, Kebe,” he said gruffly.

  She tossed her dark curls. “See you in Paris.”

  She left in a perfect catwalk stride.

  “Who was that?” Tess whispered.

  “A friend,” he said. His dark eyes flicked briefly to the sleeping baby in the stroller behind her. “Well. It was nice to see you again.” His expression was cool. Courteous. Distant. “Goodbye.”

  Pain and shock spread through Tess’s body, making her knees shake.

  He hadn’t been looking for her.

  At all.