Cara Summers - Bound By Passion - No Desire Denied / One More Kiss / Second-Chance Seduction

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Nothing can stop the sizzling attraction within these three storiesNo Desire Denied by Cara SummersNell MacPherson is determined to write her next book and hoping that time alone with her childhood crush, secret service agent Reid Sutherland, will ignite her desires. He’s there to do a job – to protect Nell – but it’s proving difficult to resist the woman in need.One More Kiss by Katherine GarberaSince her divorce, cupcake queen Alysse Dresden prefers baking to boys…until a phone order from a sexy-voiced stranger melts her insides like butter – there’s only been one man whose voice had such an effect: her mysterious, gorgeous ex-husband…Second-Chance Seduction by Kate CarlisleConnor MacLaren’s former sweetheart has returned, desperate for help, and he knows just how to get her out of his system once and for all… He’ll make Maggie pose as his fake girlfriend. Soon they are both breathless with desire, but then Connor’s plan backfires – it leaves them both wanting more!

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All Nell needed was half the guts it had taken Eleanor to leave her family and home in Scotland to run away with her true love. Not that she intended to run away with Reid. All she wanted to do was give in to the yearning that had been growing inside her since the first time she’d seen him.

If Eleanor had felt this way about Angus, no wonder she’d risked everything to be with him. Again Nell checked the doorway to the main parlor. No sign of Reid. She glanced back up at the portrait and whispered, “At least you didn’t have to deal with a reluctant lover.”

* * *

REID WAITED UNTIL Daryl had disappeared around the curve of the landing before he turned and walked toward the open door of the main parlor. He’d successfully avoided being alone with Nell since they’d arrived at the castle. Not that the strategy had helped him control his preoccupation with her. While they’d been discussing the case for that last hour, he’d entirely lost the thread of the conversation. Twice.

That wasn’t like him at all. In his job, he couldn’t afford to lose his focus. Even when she wasn’t looking at him, he still felt her in every pore of his being, and he felt that same sense of connection, which bordered on recognition, that he’d felt when they’d stood together beneath the stone arch seven years ago.

The Nell he’d known when he was ten was simple. The Nell he was coming to know was complex. He liked the way she looked—the delicate features, the fair skin, the hair that reminded him of spun gold. He also was coming to like and admire the way her mind worked. The problem was, the longer he was with her, the more he learned about her, the more fascinating she became.

He half hoped that she’d follow them out into the hallway, so that he could escort her safely up to her room and retire to his own. Separation and some distance were what he needed.

Right.

He wasn’t a man who lied to himself. Half hoped were two telling words. There was a part of him that had wanted her to linger in the parlor so that he could be alone with her. Even though it meant playing with fire. Reid shoved his hands into his pockets. That wasn’t like him, either. At least it hadn’t been like him in a long time. Not since he and his brothers had been eight and they’d literally played with some matches they’d found in a kitchen drawer. Their father had been away, their mother working in her office. And she’d left him in charge. Her words had been, “Don’t let your brothers burn down the house—or worse.”

Cam had initiated the disaster by striking the first match. Then Duncan, usually the one to remain on the sidelines, had joined in. Finally Reid had succumbed to the hypnotic power of the bright flames. Their little adventure had progressed quickly from striking individual matches to starting a small blaze in a wastebasket which had severely damaged one wall of kitchen cabinets before the fire department arrived on the scene to put it out.

Even more than the scorched wood, he regretted the look of disappointment in his mother’s eyes.

But he wasn’t eight years old anymore. Dammit. Nell was changing him. There was something in her that tempted him to give in to that streak of recklessness that he suspected he and his brothers had inherited from his father. He wasn’t sure he could resist her any more than he’d been able to resist striking that match on that long-ago afternoon. What he was absolutely certain of was that, if he started this particular fire, disaster lay ahead.

He didn’t move into the room when he spoke. “You’re not ready to call it a night yet.”

“No.” She flicked him a glance, then turned her attention back to the painting. “I want to start looking for the necklace.”

“Tonight?”

“The clock is ticking. And this portrait is part of the story. For years it’s been the only evidence that the sapphires exist. I think there’s something in it that might provide a clue.”

Intrigued, Reid joined her in front of the painting. “Why do you think that?”

“It’s always been called her wedding portrait, but that can’t be what it really is. True, she’s wearing a white dress and there are flowers in her hair. But she and Angus ran away.” Nell gestured to the upper right-hand corner of the painting. “You can see the stone arch that Angus built for her. So she sat for this portrait after they’d been here awhile. In my book, they married onboard the ship that brought them here. I had them renew their wedding vows beneath the arch once it was completed.”

“In celebration of their first anniversary,” Reid murmured.

She turned to stare at him. “You read It’s All Good?”

He picked up a strand of her hair and rubbed it between his fingers. “Several times. I enjoyed it. Their story has always intrigued me, and you captured the heart of it in your book.”

When she said nothing and continued to stare at him, he said, “You seem surprised that I enjoyed it.”

“I’m trying to imagine you reading a children’s story.”

He smiled then. Because he wanted badly to do more than touch her hair, he dropped the strand and turned to the portrait. “Eleanor has always fascinated me. That summer when you and your sisters first showed us this painting and told us her story, my brothers immediately focused on finding the missing jewels. I was struck by the woman.”

He had to wonder if that was because, even then, she made him think of the woman Nell would become. They had the same gold hair, pale skin, delicate features, stubborn chin. And the mouth. Eleanor’s lips were slightly parted as if they were just waiting for a lover’s kiss. His mind slipped back to that moment in the car when he’d been staring at Nell’s mouth and nothing had mattered to him but kissing her. And more.

He could so easily have more. She was standing close enough that, if either of them moved, he would feel the brush of her body against his. If he turned ever so slightly, he could pull her into his arms. She wouldn’t resist, and he could once more lose himself in the explosive heat of her response. Lose himself in her.

He shifted his gaze to the necklace. That was what he should be thinking about. “Perhaps the painting does hold the key. If we assume she was the one who hid them—”

“She did,” Nell interrupted. “I’m certain of it.”

“Why? Why not just pass them on to her heirs?”

Nell frowned at the portrait. “According to the story that was passed down, the jewels were Eleanor’s dowry. But Deanna Lewis told Piper that they didn’t belong to Eleanor, that she and whoever her partner was had a stronger claim. Maybe Eleanor felt the same way—that the jewels really did belong to someone else. After all, she eloped with Angus. That suggests that he may not have been someone her family approved of.”

“Interesting.”

“Deanna and Gwendolen may hold the answer.”

He glanced at her. “What about your theory that you and your sisters are meant to find them? How does that fit?”

“I don’t know exactly. But if I were going to hide something as beautiful as those jewels, I’d leave a clue. What better place to put it than in this portrait? Maybe that’s why she had it painted in the first place and why she wore the sapphires. It’s probably why this painting has survived all these years.”

“Good point.” Reid used her theory to study the portrait through a new lens. This time instead of focusing on Eleanor and her jewels, he concentrated on the other details. “She’s sitting in the garden on a bench. There’s a pile of books or notebooks next to her.”

“Sketch pads, I’m betting. She drew,” Nell said. “All of the illustrations in my book are based on her sketches.”

“I read about that. The two of you share a talent for bringing images vividly to life. The location of that spot is somewhere in the gardens within sight of the stone arch, but I don’t recall that latticework directly behind her.”

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