Kathryn Ross - Seduced By The Enemy

Cover Page

Excerpt “You are a very beautiful woman, Helena, and I’d very much like to make love to you.” Helena swallowed hard and tried to find her voice, but it seemed to have deserted her. Tate’s hand moved from her throat, down over the smooth bareness of her shoulder. “Do you hear me, Helena? I want you…I know you want me.” He moved closer; she could feel his breath against her heated skin. “Tell me you want me…” “I…” She tried to deny him…she tried desperately to speak…but her voice wouldn’t function. Her heart felt like a wild caged creature inside her as his lips came closer to hers. She moistened their dryness, heat and sudden longing sweeping through her in a wild, sweet rush. “Yes.” She breathed the word into the tropical heat of the night; it was just a whisper of intense longing. “Yes…”

About the Author KATHRYN ROSS was born in Zambia where her parents happened to live at that time. Educated in Ireland and England, she now lives in a village near Blackpool, Lancashire. Kathryn is a professional beauty therapist, but writing is her first love. As a child she wrote adventure stories, and at thirteen was editor of her school magazine. Happily, ten writing years later, Designed With Love was accepted by Harlequin ® . A romantic Sagittarian, she loves traveling to exotic locations.

Title Page Seduced By The Enemy Kathryn Ross www.millsandboon.co.uk

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

Copyright

Helena swallowed hard and tried to find her voice, but it seemed to have deserted her.

Tate’s hand moved from her throat, down over the smooth bareness of her shoulder. “Do you hear me, Helena? I want you…I know you want me.” He moved closer; she could feel his breath against her heated skin. “Tell me you want me…”

“I…” She tried to deny him…she tried desperately to speak…but her voice wouldn’t function. Her heart felt like a wild caged creature inside her as his lips came closer to hers. She moistened their dryness, heat and sudden longing sweeping through her in a wild, sweet rush. “Yes.” She breathed the word into the tropical heat of the night; it was just a whisper of intense longing. “Yes…”

was born in Zambia where her parents happened to live at that time. Educated in Ireland and England, she now lives in a village near Blackpool, Lancashire. Kathryn is a professional beauty therapist, but writing is her first love. As a child she wrote adventure stories, and at thirteen was editor of her school magazine. Happily, ten writing years later, Designed With Love was accepted by Harlequin ®. A romantic Sagittarian, she loves traveling to exotic locations.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

STEPPING off the plane into the hot shimmering sunshine of Barbados was like stepping from a black and white photograph back into colour. Drab grey London felt like another planet away.

Helena felt a tug on her heartstrings. She loved this island, she was relieved to be home…and yet there was a murmur of disquiet as she remembered how she had felt when she had flown out of here five years ago.

Briskly she tried to dismiss the shadows of remembrance and headed off to collect her luggage. The past was forgotten; all that mattered now was sorting out her father’s problems.

She could still hardly believe that her father had managed to get himself into such a financial mess. Lawrence Beaumont had always been a very shrewd businessman. Helena’s heart thudded nervously as she remembered the phone call from Paul last week. It had been that call which had panicked Helena into booking the first available flight home. She had never heard her brother so worried—he was usually so calm, so laid-back.

She picked up her suitcase and headed quickly for Immigration. The formalities didn’t take long, and once through the barriers she scoured the crowds anxiously, looking for her brother’s friendly smiling face. There was no sign of him anywhere. She frowned and glanced at her watch. He was late—not a fact that should have surprised her when she thought about it.

Her eyes searched around the airport again, and it was then that she noticed a familiar figure striding confidently through the crowds. Her heart lurched with surprise. The figure was tall and undeniably handsome—she recognised Tate Ainsley immediately.

He was wearing a tropically light business suit, which looked expensive and very stylish on his broadshouldered frame. His hair was still jet-dark, despite the fact that he must be in his late thirties now.

What on earth was he doing here? she wondered frantically. It was six years ago now since her father had married Tate’s sister Vivian. While Helena liked Vivian…Tate was an entirely different proposition. She had always felt uneasy around the man, and if what her brother had told her on the phone was true then her mistrust of him was well-founded.

Her apprehension soared as he looked around and then started to move in her direction. There was no doubt that he was walking towards her as vivid blue eyes the colour of the Caribbean Sea sliced directly into hers. ‘Hello, Helena.’ His voice, deep and attractive, made a few women nearby glance over at him with interest.

‘Tate! I’m surprised to see you here.’ Her voice was slightly strained as she strove to be coolly polite.

‘Not half as surprised as I was to hear you were coming home.’ His eyes flickered briefly over her long dark hair which was pulled severely back from her creamy skin, emphasising the lovely bone structure of her face and the striking green eyes.

So he had heard that she was coming home! It was surprising how news travelled so quickly on this island; she had only faxed her father a couple of days ago with the news. She wondered how many other people knew she was here…she wondered if Cass knew…

Immediately the thought flickered into her mind she swept it aside angrily. She didn’t want to think about him…if she started to think about him she might run back through the doors behind her straight onto the first available plane to London.

‘How long are you here for?’ Tate asked now.

She shrugged, unwilling to divulge anything much to this man until she found out the exact circumstances at home. ‘Long enough to be of some help to my father.’ She fixed him with a rather pointed look. ‘I gather there have been a few problems at home?’

‘A few problems’ was putting it mildly. Paul had been beside himself with fear when they had spoken. Apparently bad investments.. bad management…had put the Beaumont estate in a state of near ruin. And according to Paul it was all this man’s fault.

If it was Tate’s fault he certainly didn’t look worried. He just grinned. ‘Nothing we can’t handle.’

Anger bristled through her at the arrogance of such an answer. Paul had told her in no uncertain terms that the situation was serious. Obviously Tate didn’t want her to realise this…it was probably m his best interests to keep a cool faade.