The Texan's Contract Marriage - By Sara Orwig Page 0,68
Right?”
*
That night in his bed, he held her close as he toyed with long locks of her raven hair. “We’ll follow your plan, Camille,” he said. “In three years, you may change—”
She placed her fingers lightly on his mouth while she shook her head. “No. I adore Noah. I want a family. I love you and want your love. With the money you have, I can continue to have voice lessons and sing in local events in Dallas or Houston or even New Mexico, maybe once a year or less. We’ll see, but I’m sure I will not continue with this all-consuming career that takes everything.”
“You don’t have to talk me into it. For better or worse, I’m accepting your idea,” he said happily.
Smiling, she rolled over to trail feather kisses on his cheek and jaw, down over his shoulder. “If I get my wish about the Met and La Scala in less than three years, we can move up that timetable.”
He laughed, a deep rumbling sound that vibrated in his chest. “Wait a minute.”
Turning, he opened a drawer in a bedside table. He settled back to take her right hand in his.
“Camille, you’ve given me my full life back. You’ve given me Noah. You’ve given me love. Your wedding ring was a token of our contract and agreement to marry for Noah. This ring is a token of my gratitude and all my love,” he said in a husky voice. He dropped a small package in her lap.
She blinked and looked up at him, seeing warmth and love in his eyes. Her heart thudded over his declaration. Tearing away wrappings, she opened her gift. With a racing pulse, she raised the lid to see a dazzling diamond ring.
“Marek, it’s beautiful,” she said, throwing her arms around his neck. “I am overjoyed.”
He smiled at her. “I’ll do everything in my power to keep you happy.”
“Including coming to Budapest part of the time with me, even though I’ll be busy.”
“Including going to Hungary part of the time,” he answered, smiling with her. “Whatever I can do to keep your love, keep you happy, keep you and Noah in my life however much or little that turns out to be.”
Joy shook her and tears of happiness spilled. Before he could say anything more, she kissed him, knowing his love and being a family for Noah was what she wanted more than all else.
*
Keep reading for an excerpt from A Conflict of Interest by Barbara Dunlop
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One
It was inauguration night in Washington, D.C., and Cara Cranshaw had to choose between her president and her lover. One strode triumphantly though the arches of the Worthington Hotel ballroom to the uplifting strains of “Hail to the Chief” and the cheers of eight hundred well-wishers. The other stared boldly at her from across the ballroom, a shock of unruly, dark hair curling across his forehead, his bow tie slightly askew and his eyes telegraphing the message that he wanted her naked.
For the moment, it was investigative reporter Max Gray who held her attention. Despite her resolve to turn the page on their relationship, she couldn’t tear her gaze from his, nor could she stop her hand from reflexively moving to her abdomen. But Max was off-limits now that Ted Morrow had been sworn in as president.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” cried the master of ceremonies above the music and enthusiastic clapping that was spreading like a wave across the hall. “The President of the United States.” His voice rang out from the microphone onstage at the opposite end of the massive, high-ceilinged room.
The cheers grew to a roar. The band’s volume increased. And the crowd shifted, separating to form a pathway in front of President Morrow. Cara automatically moved with them, but she still couldn’t tear her gaze from Max as he took a few steps backward on the other side of the divide.
She schooled her features, struggling to transmit her resolve. She couldn’t let him see the