Captive In Eden. Karen Van Der Zee
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Chase gave a half smile
“If I had a wife,” he mocked, “believe me, she would not have her own bed. She’d share mine.”
“She’d have to want to,” Sky blurted out. Oh no, why couldn’t she control her tongue?
His green eyes met hers. “Oh,” he said slowly, meaningfully, “she’d want to.”
Disturbing images flooded her mind and she pushed them away with an effort. “Sure of yourself, aren’t you?” she asked.
He smiled. “Oh, very….”
Ever since KAREN VAN DER ZEE was a child growing up in Holland, she wanted to do two things: write books and travel. She’s been very lucky. Her American husband’s work as a development economist has taken them to many exotic locations. They were married in Kenya, had their first daughter in Ghana and their second in the United States. They spent two fascinating years in Indonesia. Since then, they’ve added a son to the family, as well. They live in Virginia, but not permanently!
Captive In Eden
Karen Van Der Zee
BY THE time they arrived at the old Virginia plantation house for the cocktail party, Sky was clenching her teeth and her stomach churned. She should have waited to tell Sean the news until later, only she’d been so excited and she’d hoped so much he’d understand and be excited too.
But he wasn’t.
She let the anger squash down the pain. Anger was easier to deal with for the moment.
‘We’ll discuss this later,’ he said now as he parked the car. His voice was coldly businesslike and it made her furious. She was not one of his employees who were being paid to do what he told them to. She was her own person with her own life and her own dreams and she had the right to make her own decisions.
He held the car door open for her and she swung her legs to the side and got out, giving his handsome face a stony stare as she did so.
Silently they walked the short way up to the front doors of the plantation house. It was a beautiful historic building with a large wrap-around porch and formally landscaped gardens. It was worth a ton of money, but the owners of the Montana Group had tons of money, according to Sean.
A butler ushered them into a marble-floored foyer and into a large, high-ceilinged room where the cocktail party was in full swing. Men in sober suits and women in elegant dresses stood around in small groups, talking and smiling. Diamonds glittered and champagne flowed. Waiters weaved around with trays of drinks and platters of beautifully presented food.
‘There he is,’ said Sean. ‘The man rubbing his chin.’
The man rubbing his chin looked just as Sky had expected—tall, sophisticated, sleek and ruthless. His dark suit was impeccable, his dress shirt blindingly white, his hair combed back and trimmed immaculately. He had striking green eyes that had a predatory glint in them as he glanced around the room. Looking for prey, she thought with a spark of amusement, the assessment instinctive. Here was a man with power and money, one of the owners of the Montana Group, a family company that owned luxury hotels and tourist resorts the world over. And they were here to celebrate one more project—a large tourist hotel in the Ecuadorian rainforest. She didn’t like the sound of it one bit.
The green eyes clashed with hers. An electric spark tingled through her nervous system and her heart missed a beat. No wonder—she didn’t like that arrogant self-possession he emanated; it made the hair prickle at the back of her neck. His eyes not leaving her face, he came towards them, moving forward with an economy of movement, weaving through the crowd of people, easily and confidently—a man at home in his own body.
And a good body it was, she had no doubt. Just watching him move told her that.
His smile was polite. ‘Sean, glad you could make it,’ he said in a deep, utterly masculine voice that had a faint, elegant southern lilt. But his tone was cool, as were his eyes as he looked at Sean.
He doesn’t like Sean, she thought, and then the penetrating green gaze was full on her face and he extended his hand to her. ‘Chase Montana,’ he said, not giving Sean the chance to introduce them.
His hand was firm as he grasped hers. Her heart began to gallop at the look of interest in his eyes. No, not mere interest—it was more intense than that. Perhaps it was only because of the green of his eyes, compelling eyes that missed nothing.
His hair was a rich, dark brown. He had a nose with a bump on it—Roman, or Greek—she wasn’t sure what they called it. Or maybe somebody had broken his nose in a rage. She could well imagine such a possibility. He was a man who could evoke extremes of emotion, she was quite sure. Unaccountably, a shiver went down her spine. It was an odd experience to have such an instant, strong reaction to a stranger.
‘Sky Malone,’ she told him and tried to extract her hand. He was holding on just a bit too long for comfort.
One dark brow arched fractionally. ‘Sky…an interesting name. I like it.’
‘Thank you,’ she said politely. ‘So do I.’
His mouth quirked. ‘Please, come in and have a drink.’
Sean