Captured by the Billionaire / Sold Into Marriage: Captured by the Billionaire / Sold Into Marriage. Maureen Child
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Captured by the Billionaire by Maureen Child
“I own this island and everything on it,” Gabe said. “Including, at this moment, you.”
She stepped back and stared at him as though she’d never seen him before. Shaking her head, she whispered, “You can’t be serious about keeping me locked up like this.”
“Sounds like I’m serious to me.”
She still looked damn good. He remembered the feel of her, the taste of her and, as something like hunger surged through him, Gabe had to admit that keeping her there had probably been a mistake.
She continued to stare at him, and Gabe almost felt a flicker of guilt. Almost. Then he remembered that one night ten years before, she’d walked away without a backward glance.
“I can do whatever I want to, Deb. This is my island. I make the rules.”
Sold Into Marriage by Ann Major
“Don’t you dare think of ever touching me again!”
He froze. “Josie, I can explain.”
“Lucas told me you didn’t approve of me. You came here to get rid of me, didn’t you? That’s why you watched me, why you slept with me. All you ever wanted to do was to make me feel cheap and bad and ruin things for Lucas and me. Well, you succeeded.”
“No! I would have left you alone last night. But you had to come back out and kiss me. You seduced me.”
“So this is all my fault? I hate you!”
“Right. That’s why you made love to me all night long.” Adam flung his card on the table. “If you change your mind after you calm down, you’ve got all my numbers. Call me.”
MAUREEN CHILD
is a California native who loves to travel. Every chance they get, she and her husband are taking off on another research trip. An author of more than sixty books, Maureen loves a happy ending and still swears that she has the best job in the world. She lives in Southern California with her husband, two children and a golden retriever with delusions of grandeur.
You can contact Maureen via her website www. maureenchild.com.
Captured by the Billionaire
MAUREEN CHILD
Sold Into Marriage
ANN MAJOR
CAPTURED BY THE BILLIONAIRE
by
Maureen Child
Dear Reader,
Just imagine…the guy you broke up with ten years ago is suddenly back in your life. And not only is he as gorgeous as he ever was, now he’s a billionaire! He owns the world’s most fabulous resort – complete with his own island!
In Captured by the Billionaire, Debbie Harris and Gabriel Vaughn have a few things to work out. Like ten years’ worth of anger and a whole lot of desire that’s still simmering. So naturally, Gabe does the first thing he can think of to keep her on his island.
He has her arrested.
Not the fastest way to a woman’s heart, but Gabe really had a mind of his own while I was writing this book. He even surprised me once or twice. Not an easy thing to do!
I do have to say, though, that during the writing of this trilogy, I absolutely loved the time I spent at Fantasies resort. It’s everything a vacation should be. Romantic, opulent, seductive. Makes me want to pack a bag and head for the Caribbean myself.
I hope you enjoy your stay at Fantasies as much as I have!
Love,
Maureen
To Susan Mallery
A great friend, a wonderful writer and a woman
who always knows just what to say.
You’re always there when you’re needed.
Thanks for everything.
One
“Oh, God, I’m in jail.” Debbie Harris curled both hands around the bars of her cage and gave them a frustrated shake. They clanked a little and the sound seemed to echo eerily around her. “I’m a criminal. I’ll have a record.”
Her forehead thunked against the bars and the fear at the base of her throat squeezed tight, nearly shutting off her air.
Okay, Deb, she told herself firmly, get a grip. This is all a mistake. It’ll be straightened out in no time. You’re not in the Big House, for heaven’s sake.
In fact, the jail cell was more Mayberry than Oz. The whitewashed walls were clean and sparkling, and the cot was covered by a red-and-white quilt. There was a table and chair on one wall and a toilet and sink hidden behind a partition. The cell next to hers was empty and there was a closed door between her and the office where her jailer sat.
She scowled at the closed door because she couldn’t do anything else. The man who’d locked her in here had been very polite but completely uninterested in listening to what she had to say. He’d simply closed the door to her cell and left her alone to wonder what in the hell had happened to land her here.
Outside the barred window, the tropical sky was a brilliant blue dotted with huge, fluffy white clouds, and the sun’s rays fell in golden stripes across the red-concrete floor. She rested her forehead briefly against the cold bars and closed her eyes, remembering just how she’d ended up a prisoner.
After nearly four weeks on the private island, staying at the fabulous Fantasies resort, Debbie had packed her bags and headed for the tiny airstrip to go home. Back to her life in Long Beach, California. Where, it turns out, she should have stayed.
She’d filed through security along with everyone else leaving Fantasies that morning. The lines were long, even on this tiny island, as suitcases were checked while their owners moved through a metal detector.
Then she’d come to the Customs agent and everything had gone straight downhill. As he checked her passport, Debbie’d watched as his smiling brown eyes had gone flat and cold. He looked at her, checked her name again and frowned.
Interesting that despite knowing she hadn’t done a darn thing wrong, she’d instantly felt like a diamond smuggler or something. A wash of guilt and worry had smashed over her and when the agent motioned to a uniformed police officer to pull Debbie out of line, she’d felt the first jolt of real fear.
“What’s going on?” She looked at the officer who had a firm grip on her elbow as he took her aside for questioning. “Is there a problem? Can you tell me what it is?”
He didn’t speak until he got her away from the crowds. Now everyone thought she was a terrorist or something.
“You are Deborah Harris?” The officer’s voice was quiet but no less demanding.
“Yes.”
“American?”
“Yes.” She avoided looking at anyone else, but she felt their stares on her. Lifting her chin, she squared her shoulders, looked directly at the man questioning her and tried to project an air of outraged dignity.
Not so easy to do when you were scared to death.
She wanted to shout, I’m innocent, but she had the distinct feeling no one would believe her anyway.
“There seems to be some difficulty with your passport,”