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The Strength Of Desire

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Год написания книги
2018
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The Strength Of Desire
Alison Fraser

THIS TIME, FOREVERThe truth will out! The first time: Hope had always been strongly attracted to Guy, but she did the right thing and turned her back on him… until that fateful weekend, when their desire boiled over. In-between times: Hope tried to put her short-lived, misguided affair with Guy behind her, and be a good mother to her daughter, Maxine.This time: The death of Hope's ex-husband, Jack, has brought Guy, his younger brother, back into her life. Hope is left with two legacies: one is the startling contents of Jack's will, the other is the need to confess the truth - that Maxine is not Guy's niece, but his daughter… .

Table of Contents

Cover Page (#u6a8bc50b-fca7-558c-a8d2-cf24c0fb7c5c)

Excerpt (#ud12ea1f2-3bd2-5d37-a207-2e919dfc5d12)

About the Author (#u25154c1b-b5e6-5561-ba36-19e5f77320b0)

Title Page (#u83362edf-253d-57bb-ad34-2b8d6f417f03)

CHAPTER ONE (#u8fce0896-fab7-538c-a2e7-8cf858c29e54)

CHAPTER TWO (#u3c3efe4c-ea3c-5d6b-a24e-6a30ad481658)

CHAPTER THREE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

“How long was it, that last time you and Jack were reunited?”

“Five weeks.” Hope prayed it would shut Guy up.

“Five weeks? Long enough to conceive, have a pregnancy confirmed and get the divorce papers drawn up….”

“That’s not the way it was! I never intended going back to Jack….”

Guy’s lips formed a thin, cruel smile. “Maybe you should have stuck with me…. But then you couldn’t be quite sure I could give you a baby, could you? Whereas my brother already had….”

ALISON FRASER was born and brought up in the far north of Scotland. She studied English literature at university and taught math for a while, then became a computer programmer. She took up writing as a hobby and it is still very much so, in that she doesn’t take it too seriously! Currently Alison still lives in Scotland, with her two young children, two dogs, but only one husband!

The Strength of Desire

Alison Fraser

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_e6360a04-0752-5839-9557-d70fae37dc11)

TEARS streamed down Hope’s face as the radio played the song for which Jack was best known:

‘The sun in your hair,

Pure gold.

The sky in your eyes,

Cloudless blue.

How can I not love you?

The stars in——

She switched it off, and sank down on a chair. It was a shock. Not the song, but the announcement beforehand: ‘Jacques Delacroix died last night in a road accident.’

Why had no one told her? Why hadn’t Guy? The thought of Jack’s brother could still make her angry. Her mind quickly moved elsewhere.

Maxine. She needed to tell Maxine before anyone else did. How would she react? She was difficult at the best of times.

My fault, Hope acknowledged, all too aware of the way her daughter was going. At twelve she could pass for fourteen—a moody, resentful fourteen. My fault because I was too young.

Seventeen she had been when she’d met Jacques—or Jack, as he’d been called. Just turned eighteen when she’d married him. Pregnant shortly after. Ridiculous.

That’s what Guy had said, of course. Guy DelacroixJack’s little brother. Hope’s lips twisted at the term. That was what Jack had called him and that was what Hope had expected. A younger, paler version of Jack. But Guy had been in no one’s shadow.

She remembered their first meeting. It had been at a London restaurant. Jack had invited him to lunch to meet Jack’s future bride. He’d driven up from Cornwall where he lived and had arrived late. Jack and she had already been seated at the rear of the restaurant and had not noticed his approach.

He had appeared at their table and Hope had just stared in surprise. Jack’s little brother had turned out to be anything but little.

At six feet two, he was several inches taller and broader than Jack, and, on first glance, actually looked older, with his dark hair and steel-grey eyes and a slightly weathered complexion.

The brothers were totally unalike. At thirty-five Jack could have passed for twenty-five. Blond, boyish and handsome, he was a slim five feet ten. He had all the charm of an older man with the outlook of a much younger one. The age-gap between Hope and Jack-seventeen years—seemed nothing.

Nothing until Guy Delacroix pointed it out. He stared at her, long and hard, then spoke to Jacques, excluding her.

He said, ‘Es-tu fou, Jacques? Elle est une enfant.’

He did not look at Hope. If he had, he might have seen from her face that she wasn’t stupid. She could certainly translate basic French: ‘Are you mad, Jack? She is a child.’

She waited for Jacques to deny, to resent, to explode, but he just laughed. ‘Peut-être. Mais une très belle enfant, n’est-ce pas?’ He smiled at his brother.

Hope could translate that, too. O level French was one of the few she’d managed to acquire at the trendy boarding-school where her father had sent her.
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