Kiss Me Forever/Love Me Forever. Rosemary Laurey
>
KISS ME FOREVER & LOVE ME FOREVER
ROSEMARY LAUREY
Contents
KISS ME FOREVER
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
LOVE ME FOREVER
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
HE’S HOT. HE’S SEXY. HE’S ROMANTIC. HE’S IMMORTAL.
If there is one thing Dixie LePage does not need in her life, it’s complications. And the man sitting across the table from her in a crowded Engish pub, the one offering to buy the library of her inherited estate in a small English village, is a major complication. For starters, there’s the broad shoulders. The slightly amused smirk. That smoldering look that makes it impossible to concentrate. And that infuriating, old-fashioned, and well, okay, incredibly appealing sense of chivalry. No doubt about it, the guy is hot and sexy.
Of course, there is one wee little problem: He claims to be a vampire named Christopher Marlowe, as in THE Christopher Marlowe, famous playwright, contemporary of Will Shakespeare. Right. Amend that to hot, sexy, and totally insane. Please see “no more complications.” So why can’t Dixie seem to resist the warmth of Christopher’s charm, the protective feel of his strong hands, or the tempting pull of his full mouth when the sun goes down…?
KISS ME FOREVER
ROSEMARY LAUREY
For George, who always believed in me, even when he had a few doubts about vampires, and special thanks to Morgan Arce and Patricia Jones,
for helping sort out Stella’s life.
For Sister Elizabeth Fitzgerald,
who many years ago piqued my imagination about
what happened in the Inn at Deptford.
Prologue
“You want me to give her an unwelcome?”
Sebastian Caughleigh almost smiled. His nephew caught on quickly. “We’ll call it a…discouragement.” With that laugh, James had definite possibilities.
“I can take care of one old lady.”
“This is the granddaughter. The daughter died years ago and it seems the Misses Underwood’s sister snuffed it a few weeks before old Miss Faith. This Dixie LePage is thirty and conveniently sent me her picture.”
James peered at the photo on the desktop. An auburn-haired young woman with green eyes smiled at the camera. “Nice,” James murmured. “Do I get to choose the inconvenience?”
“No! She’s arriving on the twelfth and obligingly gave us the flight number. You find her at Gatwick. Lift her wallet. Without money or credit cards, she won’t get far. With a bit of luck she’ll run home in distress. A fainting female who can’t take inconvenience.”
A glint of appreciation lit James’s pale eyes as he smiled at the photograph. “Maybe I won’t lift her wallet—first thing.”
“You will. It’s survival. For all of us. We can’t have her poking around the house and finding stuff the Sunday supplements would kill for.”
“What if losing a wallet doesn’t delay her?”
“How far can she get without passport or money? She’ll be stranded and run home—where she should have stayed. The damn woman could have had nice regular checks and no hassle, but she just had to come and see a ‘real, quaint English village.’” Sebastian snorted. “I’ll give her quaint.”
James chuckled. “The wallet should work. Nice idea, Uncle. I salute you.”
“It was Emily’s. She lost her wallet and passport in Madeira last year and she’s still talking about it.”
A smirk played on James’s pale lips. “Always knew you were attracted to the woman for her mind.” He nodded. “I’m off then, Uncle. Got to work out the details of my ‘welcome.’”
Sebastian frowned at the closed door. He hadn’t told his nephew the half. If this wretched woman arrived and insisted on claiming her property, they’d have problems beyond measure. Once she was in the house…Sebastian pushed his chair from his desk. She couldn’t get that far. James’s little diversion had to work. If not, they’d have to get awkward, maybe even nasty. Others stood to lose along with him. Maybe it was time to call in favors.
Chapter One
Dixie LePage prayed for patience. A train strike! Just her luck! And all because she’d listened to her travel agent, who insisted the train was the best way to travel in England. “Fast, easy, and none of the problems of driving on the wrong side of the road.” She’d tossed over a paying job and flown across the Atlantic on the strength of two letters and a phone call only to find herself stranded. She’d come out of curiosity, the promise of a sudden inheritance, and the prospect of being on a different continent from the man who’d made a fool of her, and was now stuck.
Dixie’s plan B: to hire a car and drive the thirty or so miles, might have worked. But half the population of Southern England beat her to it. Her attempts to call Mr. Caughleigh, the lawyer, didn’t go too well either. She lacked the necessary small change or a phone card. Resisting the temptation to smash the receiver into the wall, she muttered heavenward.
“Having trouble?” a smooth, very proper British voice asked.
Dixie turned and stared at the bluest eyes she’d seen since her ex-fiancé. “It’s these stupid phones. There are no proper instructions!” This was unfair, she knew. Directions came in half-a-dozen languages.