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Perilous Love
Blurb
Europe is on the brink of the First World War. Gabrielle and Adrian, their marriage on the rocks, are thrust into a world of territory lies and deceit. Not knowing who to trust, they find themselves fleeing for their lives across war torn Europe, the brutal German forces are hot on their heels, determined not to let them escape. Adrian is between the devil and the deep blue sea as he’s accused of treason and doesn’t know what awaits him back in England. All he does know is he must reunite his family safely back in England. Will this mend their broken marriage or tear them apart forever? The odds are stacked against their survival. Will they have what it takes to overcome obstacles?
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Excerpt
Adrian Bryce nodded to the doorman of Number 2, Whitehall Court, Westminster and walked briskly towards the waiting car. While not handsome in the classical sense, his immaculate attire, bearing and manner was one of wealth, authority and confidence. He was a man who gives orders, never receives them. His dark eyes set in an angular face barely concealed his anger and worry. He knew, along with everyone else with a brain, that war was looming in Europe. Since the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his wife, rumours and intrigue and political double talk had been flying through Britain and the Continent.
Now, because of his family connections in Europe, he’d been ordered to accompany his wife and children on their annual visit to her stifling Belgian relatives who’d never emerged from the Victorian era. It did not matter to the men at Whitehall Court that he and his plain boring wife of eight years, the mother of his plain, boring children, had lived separate lives for five years. His wife was related to aristocratic families both here and in Europe and had been introduced to him at a diplomatic reception and as both were expected to marry well, he thought it a good match at the time. However, their honeymoon proved they had nothing in common except for them to do their duty and produce children. For the last five years they’d rarely spent time together except for the annual Christmas rituals and the children’s birthdays. He preferred his townhouse in London, she and the children lived at their country home in Kent.
As the car turned in the direction of the small elegant lodgings in Bruton Street, his mind and body were anticipating what would be waiting for him. Beautiful, voluptuous, passionate, pleasing Maryanne, Christ he was becoming hard thinking about her. He couldn’t wait to push his head between her magnificent breasts and soak in her body. He’d enjoyed the charms of several women but never before had he experienced anything like the heat and passion that Maryanne gave. She was expensive, but she was worth every penny he spent on her.
Stepping out of the car, he told the driver not to wait, opened the ornate door and strode up the thickly carpeted staircase and into the beautifully furnished rooms.
‘Adrian, my darling,’ she put out her hands to him. ‘You have kept me waiting, you dreadful man.’ The beautiful, auburn haired woman pouted playfully then smiled, highlighting her high cheekbones and tawny eyes. Her husky accent inflamed his lust even more and he pulled her to him. She mouthed ‘wait’, dropped her loose robe to the floor, and then her warm breath was against his ear.
‘Darling, I cannot wait a minute longer.’ Taking his hand, she led him to the adjoining bedroom. Neither wanted foreplay, both desperately wanted release and it came quickly. Collapsing on the pillows, they smiled at each other.
‘Why do you keep me waiting?’ she tickled his chest. ‘Your note tells me one time and you arrive at another. Is there another woman you prefer to me?’
‘I wouldn’t have the strength,’ he chuckled. ‘I was delayed at a rather important meeting. I’m now obliged to travel to Brussels, my sweet. Will you miss me?’
‘Brussels? Why must you go away?’ She stroked his cheek. ‘I will be alone and so hot thinking of you.’
‘Family duty. I must accompany my wife to visit her relatives.’ He wanted to tell her more. She was intelligent and her conversation refreshingly different from the polished, elegant, brittle women of his class. But he couldn’t, the real reason was classified. He shrugged. ‘Some of my investments in Belgium and France need my personal attention.’
‘You have so many investments. You will be away from me forever,’ she sulked.
‘I know what I’ll be thinking of while I’m away. Tell me where you were born. France or Belgium?’
‘On the border, I do not have happy memories. I have told you all this, my papa was German. He lost all his money and disappeared. My mother struggled to feed and clothe us. Not one of his horrible family cared about us. I hated them all,’ she pushed his fingers into her moist folds. ‘Why are you accompanying your wife? You never accompany her anywhere. Don’t you love me anymore?’
He watched her eyes glaze with pleasure as his fingers pushed deeper into her wetness. His lips touched her nipples and he felt her hips grinding against him. Then she cried out and clutched at him as her body shuddered with its shattering climax.
‘Mon Dieu, je vous adore,’ she whispered and moved down his body to his painfully swollen organ. Her lips enclosed him, her tongue drove him up and up and he was lost.
God Almighty, she gave as good as she got every time. Slowly opening his eyes, he ran his fingers through her auburn hair, ‘Not love you? Christ, I can’t get enough of you.’
‘Darling, let me get up so we may drink some wine.’
He lay back on the huge pillows and watched her naked body move to the bottle and crystal glasses waiting on the dressing table. She was beautiful.
‘Who is so important you must visit in Brussels all of a sudden?’ She pouted crossly and handed a glass to him.
‘The Comte de Meyvier, the patriarch of Gabrielle’s Belgian family. She spent a lot of her childhood in Belgium, I can’t stand him and I’ve avoided most family occasions for years but I’m afraid I must go this time,’ he savoured the wine on his tongue and gestured for her to refill his glass. ‘He has a lot of influence in banking and commerce.’
***
An hour later he looked at his watch and at Maryanne. ‘I must leave, my sweet.’
Tears glistened in her eyes. ‘Will you think of me?’
‘Think of you? I won’t think of anything else. I’ll send you notes and will inform you when I’m due to return.’ He pushed a little packet into her hands. ‘Don’t even think of looking at another man.’
Adrian walked back towards his club with a small smile on his face. Maryanne had been his mistress for three months and he was besotted with her. She instinctively knew what he wanted as soon as he walked in her door, whether it be passionate sex or to talk over a bottle of wine. His mind drifted back three months to that overcrowded reception for German and French industrialists. He’d turned and bumped into her standing behind him. She’d smiled at his profuse apologies and said she’d forgive him if he fetched her a glass of champagne. The next morning, he sent her a note with a posy of flowers asking permission to call on her.
A week later she was installed in the small but comfortable townhouse. Many times since then, she’d asked him if he loved her and he always assured her he did. But he didn’t. He couldn’t remember loving any woman. Obsessed with lust over her, yes, but actually in love? No. And he would never fall into that trap. His satisfied smile disappeared. The meeting today had worried him intensely. Like it or not, he must travel to Brussels immediately.
***
Maryanne waited until she heard the front door close before opening the packet. A diamond and pearl necklace twinkled up at her. She kissed it lightly, murmuring in German how beautiful it was, then sat down and pulled the perfumed notepaper and pen towards her.
Thanks for reading!
Jan
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I should qualify that title. I’m for the sunshine, if I can watch it from behind a window. I’m not fussy about where that window is—could be in the house or in the car or a restaurant or… You get the idea. Suffice it to say, like Scarlett, I’ve always been one to watch my complexion. Why? Because I burn in nothing flat. Plus, I’m not much of an outdoors person. Plus 2, sunshine means bugs. Flying bugs, crawling bugs, all kinds of bugs. Nope. Not for me. But I am happy to open the blinds and curtains and “Let the sunshine. Let the sunshine in, the sunshine in!” (Courtesy of the 7th Dimension)
the sunshine, it is during the fall. My favorite season, it always seems as though the sky is bluer, the breezes brisker, and the sun most welcome during the autumn. Maybe because we know winter is coming? At any rate, being outside in September, October, or November is a treat. I’ll take the sunshine then, thanks very much!
It’s a sunshiny day! What do you do?
taking full advantage as well. There have been flocks of white cockatoos screeching their heads off in the eucalyptus trees nearby and rosellas are busy gorging on the nectar in the bottlebrush trees. Its widely believed kookaburras laughing in the middle of the day means more rain on the way, but who knows, they could very well be laughing at us. However, farmers swear a large flock of black cockatoos means serious rain is on the way.
The first TV my mom ever bought cost her $10 a week for a year—money she could barely afford. It had something like a 15-inch screen, a picture tube that had to warm up and disappeared into a pin light when you turned off the set, and rabbit ears on top that routinely had to be adjusted to get the best picture. It was black and white, of course. We picked up CBS, ABC, and NBC, and we had to get up to turn it on, change the channel, or adjust the volume. And we thought it was a miracle! I was about four or five at the time. Thinking back, it now seems ridiculous. Hubby and I have a 48-inch screen that fits flat against the wall, in blazing color and an auto tuner. All we have to do is click a button to turn it on or to change channels. And we have what many consider a “basic” set!
There was rarely any humor, true, but the writing was just so damn good that you got caught up in the show anyway. Plus, whether it was or not, it seemed so realistic. There weren’t romances going on between the men and women—it showed a professionalism that I appreciated. And the cops didn’t always get their men and the lawyers didn’t always win their cases. Each week was a story “torn from the headlines,” and the show made you feel part of the action. Since it went off the air, I’ve watched it over and over in reruns. I can almost repeat the dialogue for some of the episodes, but I don’t care. Good entertainment is good entertainment forever!
Favorite TV show of all time. Why?
There was a time when I never would have considered reading MM romances. Not that I had anything against them, I just never thought of them. Then hubby went out of town for a business meeting and I went along, just to go. We had dinner with one of his colleagues and he asked what I did. I told him I wrote romance—erotic romance. It had only been recently that I’d admitted that to people. Was I ever surprised when he said his sister also wrote erotic romance—of the MM variety. He put us in touch with each other and after exchanging a few emails. she sent me one of the works she’d just finished. Oh. My. God. It was fabulous!!!
romance and not especially on the sex. And her sexy sequences were explicit but without seeming raunchy—which can happen whether writing MM or MF sex scenes.
As a reader what attracts you most to a character?
Winston Graham. Those characters, with their strengths and weaknesses, held millions of people captivated until the final scene.