Joan Kilby - The Second Promise

“Maeve, don’t do this to yourself,” Will said gently.

“I feel for you and what happened with your child, but your life has to go on.”

She forced herself to look him in the eye. “I shouldn’t have made love to you knowing it would come to this. It was selfish. I’m sorry,” she apologized.

“Sorry?” He gave a humorless laugh, then shifted away from her on the bed. “You convinced me I shouldn’t go ahead and marry. Made passionate love with me. And now you’re just going to walk away?”

“I’m sorry, Will,” she repeated, miserable.

Later, she would weep. Right now, she had to leave. What a fool she was! He was right to despise her. She’d screwed up both their lives.

She jammed her feet in her sandals. “Goodbye, Will.”

He turned his back on her without a word.

Tears blurring her eyes, Maeve walked out of the room, down the stairs. And out of his life.

Dear Reader,

Writing The Second Promise was especially enjoyable, as it’s set in my own backyard, so to speak. The Mornington Peninsula, in southeastern Australia, is a beautiful spot, with its bayside and ocean beaches, rolling pastureland and numerous vineyards.

Every story begins with a single idea. The spark for The Second Promise was the large clifftop estates at the southern tip of the peninsula. From the road, the only thing visible might be an opening in a huge hedge or a high brick wall with just a glimpse of a long curving driveway. Yet from the water the houses shine in brilliant sunlight, dotted like gems high above the sparkling blue sea. The intriguing juxtaposition of the mysterious with the open-yet-unattainable provided a foundation for this story about honorable secrets and forbidden love.

Will Beaumont lives alone in one of those big houses on the cliff. Maeve Arden considers it part of her job to find out why. She creates a garden for Will—whom she loves but cannot have—which she hopes will put the magic of childhood back into his life. Inadvertently Maeve also puts something of her own secret longings into the garden. Through enriching Will’s life, Maeve finds that love’s healing power allows her to overcome past sorrows, opening a way to a future together.

I do hope you enjoy my story. I love to hear from readers. Please write me c/o Harlequin Enterprises, Ltd., 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada, M3B 3K9; or e-mail me at www.superauthors.com.

Joan Kilby

The Second Promise

Joan Kilby

www.millsandboon.co.uk

PROLOGUE PROLOGUE Christmas morning, Melbourne. WILL TURNED his six-month-old niece, Caelyn, in his arms so she could watch her elder brothers and sisters open presents. Little Caelyn’s warm, sweet-smelling body nestled snugly in the crook of his arm and her tiny hand curled around his finger. “Another year and you’ll be opening your own presents,” Will assured her as he tore the paper off a soft toy. “Look, a lion! Grrr.” He nuzzled the orange mane into Caelyn’s neck until she giggled, her dark-blue eyes flashing with glee. Will’s sister Julie crouched before his chair with a camera. “Smile, Caelyn. Smile at your uncle Will.” She snapped the photo and sat back on her heels. “When are you going to settle down and have a family, Will? You don’t want to be like Dad and wait till you’re an old man to have children.” No, he definitely did not. Will’s father had been fifty-five when Will was born. By the time Will was old enough to play footy or cricket, William Sr. was walking with a cane. And by the time Will was ten, his father was dead of a heart attack. He thought about his big house on the bay just begging to be filled with children’s laughter, and the hollow spaces in his heart seemed to expand. He’d turned thirty-six last month; he had to get cracking. “Soon,” he told Julie. “I’ll be starting a family soon.” “You’ll need a wife,” his brother-in-law, Mike, reminded him jokingly, before a water pistol aimed by his eldest boy got him in the neck. “Hey, not in the house!” Mike spun and tickled the laughing child under the arms until he dropped the water pistol. Enviously, Will watched Mike cavort with his children as they spilled out of the family room and into the backyard, shrieking with laughter in the summer sun. “Will won’t have any trouble finding a wife.” Julie had put down the camera and was handing him a glass of eggnog. “Cheers.” Will sipped the frosty drink. Since he’d broken up with Maree four years ago there’d been no one serious in his life. The sporty, carefree girls who hung out at the Surf Lifesaving Club were too young to really talk to, and most women his age were either married already or increasingly set in their ways, even as they searched for some elusive romantic ideal. He had tried to find love, and for a while with Maree, he’d thought he had. The years since they’d parted had eroded his belief in happily-ever-after, but not his desire for a family. The tricky part of marriage was finding that special woman who wanted children as much as he. He knew if he just took a rational approach, he could solve the problem. After all, he had the rest of his life under control.

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Christmas morning, Melbourne.

WILL TURNED his six-month-old niece, Caelyn, in his arms so she could watch her elder brothers and sisters open presents. Little Caelyn’s warm, sweet-smelling body nestled snugly in the crook of his arm and her tiny hand curled around his finger.

“Another year and you’ll be opening your own presents,” Will assured her as he tore the paper off a soft toy. “Look, a lion! Grrr.” He nuzzled the orange mane into Caelyn’s neck until she giggled, her dark-blue eyes flashing with glee.

Will’s sister Julie crouched before his chair with a camera. “Smile, Caelyn. Smile at your uncle Will.” She snapped the photo and sat back on her heels. “When are you going to settle down and have a family, Will? You don’t want to be like Dad and wait till you’re an old man to have children.”

No, he definitely did not. Will’s father had been fifty-five when Will was born. By the time Will was old enough to play footy or cricket, William Sr. was walking with a cane. And by the time Will was ten, his father was dead of a heart attack.

He thought about his big house on the bay just begging to be filled with children’s laughter, and the hollow spaces in his heart seemed to expand. He’d turned thirty-six last month; he had to get cracking. “Soon,” he told Julie. “I’ll be starting a family soon.”

“You’ll need a wife,” his brother-in-law, Mike, reminded him jokingly, before a water pistol aimed by his eldest boy got him in the neck. “Hey, not in the house!” Mike spun and tickled the laughing child under the arms until he dropped the water pistol.

Enviously, Will watched Mike cavort with his children as they spilled out of the family room and into the backyard, shrieking with laughter in the summer sun.

“Will won’t have any trouble finding a wife.” Julie had put down the camera and was handing him a glass of eggnog.

“Cheers.” Will sipped the frosty drink. Since he’d broken up with Maree four years ago there’d been no one serious in his life. The sporty, carefree girls who hung out at the Surf Lifesaving Club were too young to really talk to, and most women his age were either married already or increasingly set in their ways, even as they searched for some elusive romantic ideal.