Consequence of Their Forbidden Night, page 1
Billionaires for the Rose Sisters
A brand-new duet from Rachael Stewart
Life hasn’t been so kind to sisters Jessie and Hannah Rose recently. The loss of their mother and betrayals of the men they once loved have left them both reeling; romance is the last thing on either of their minds. Until billionaire best friends Joel Austin and Brendan Hart upend all their plans...
Read Jessie and Joel’s story in
Billionaire’s Island Temptation
And don’t miss Hannah and Brendan’s story
Consequence of Their Forbidden Night
Both available now!
Dear Reader,
I love an unrequited love story that evolves into a HEA. In this case, Hannah is so fiercely guarded over her heart and her control that she won’t let love in. She marries for all the wrong reasons the first time around, and Brendan’s been a patient man, waiting for her to come to her senses. But now the gloves are off—she’s a free woman and he’s going after his heart’s desire...
As for Hannah, she’s a workaholic big sister who feels the weight of that responsibility to her soul. She might not be your cup of tea to begin with—in fact, I guarantee she won’t be—but bear with her. She has her reasons for behaving the way she does. She’s an alpha heroine with a big heart—if only she’d give it the freedom to love. She’s on a steep learning curve emotionally, but with Brendan showing her the way, she’s in safe and very skilled hands... ;-)
Be warned—these two are smoking hot when they come together, but it’s their absolute love for one another that binds them in the end. I hope you love them as much as I do.
Rachael xx
Consequence of Their Forbidden Night
Rachael Stewart
Rachael Stewart adores conjuring up stories, from heartwarmingly romantic to wildly erotic. She’s been writing since she could put pen to paper—as the stacks of scrawled-on pages in her loft will attest to. A Welsh lass at heart, she now lives in Yorkshire, with her very own hero and three awesome kids—and if she’s not tapping out a story, she’s wrapped up in one or enjoying the great outdoors. Reach her on Facebook, Twitter (@rach_b52) or at rachaelstewartauthor.com.
Books by Rachael Stewart
Harlequin Romance
Billionaires for the Rose Sisters
Billionaire’s Island Temptation
Claiming the Ferrington Empire
Secrets Behind the Billionaire’s Return
The Billionaire Behind the Headlines
Tempted by the Tycoon’s Proposal
Surprise Reunion with His Cinderella
Beauty and the Reclusive Millionaire
My Year with the Billionaire
Harlequin DARE
Reawakened
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com.
For all the Big Sisters out there... xxx
Praise for Rachael Stewart
“This is a delightful, moving, contemporary romance.... I should warn you that this is the sort of book that once you start you want to keep turning the pages until you’ve read it. It is an enthralling story to escape into and one that I thoroughly enjoyed reading. I have no hesitation in highly recommending it.”
—Goodreads on Tempted by the Tycoon’s Proposal
Contents
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
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
EXCERPT FROM SECOND CHANCE HAWAIIAN HONEYMOON BY CARA COLTER
CHAPTER ONE
HANNAH ROSE STARED at the papers in her hand, willing them to disappear. The words bounced around, letters scattering but always reuniting in the same order: DIVORCE.
Leon had filed for divorce. Eight years and it was over.
Perfect Marriage. Perfect Home. Perfect Life. Done.
Note that she didn’t say Perfect Husband.
Because he’d never been that...
She’d been happy to pretend though. The other ‘P’ she was always so great at...
Perfection and Pretence.
But there could be no pretence now.
Divorce.
Everyone would know her failure.
At least Mum wasn’t around to witness it, her accident a few years back and subsequent death four months ago one of the many reasons Hannah had kept her marital breakdown to herself. And her little sister didn’t need to learn of it. Her sister didn’t need this to add to the steaming pot of despair she was already swimming in.
That’s it, blame your sister, your need to protect her, when the truth is you haven’t wanted to acknowledge it. You haven’t wanted to face it.
She swallowed the rising sob as she accepted it, accepted it and recalled the conversation she’d had with her best friend, Brendan, over a year ago now. A conversation in which he’d told her of Leon’s affairs and she’d all but closed the door on him and buried her head in the sand.
But there could be no more burying, no more denying...
Her stomach rolled and she clutched the papers to it, struggling to breathe, to see beyond the debris of her life to a future she hadn’t planned.
She needed Brendan. She needed to talk to him. He was the only one that could understand, the only one that knew it all.
And don’t you think you’re a year too late?
Ignoring the inner gibe, she tugged her suitcase from her closet and started throwing in clothes. She would go to New York, she would speak to Brendan, he knew her and he knew Leon, he would help her make sense of it.
And you really think seeing Brendan when you’re wired up like a Christmas tree is a good idea?
She ignored that too.
Yes, they had chemistry.
Yes, he set her alight with a simple look.
But she was also married, for now at any rate, and quite capable of keeping that Pandora’s box firmly closed.
Absolutely, unequivocally in control of it all...
Except you’re not.
* * *
Brendan Hart stared at the blonde woman striding across his living room as though she were an apparition because she might as well be. Her ivory silk blouse, white skirt, nude heels all adding to the ghost-like impression...
He hadn’t seen her in months, and even then, it had been a glimpse in the office, a strained exchange at her mother’s funeral, nothing more. Because more would suggest their friendship was unbroken. More would suggest that the conversation they’d had over a year ago had never happened. She had taken his words of concern and dismissed them as if they meant nothing. As if her husband’s affairs meant nothing.
‘Brendan?’ His name on her lips was a gasp, an uncertain whisper, her blue-grey eyes slaying him with their pain, their uncertainty. What had happened to make her look like so? And why did he have to care so damn much?
He moved before he could give it all away—the hurt, the pain...the unrequited love. His forceful stride matching the staccato of his heart as he headed for his drinks cabinet.
He didn’t ask, just poured—two glasses, two fingers—and turned, holding one whisky out to her.
She wet her lips, pale pink and glossy—the same colour as the nails on her fingers as she reached out to take the glass, careful not to brush his own. ‘Thank you.’
‘Why are you here, Hannah?’
No preamble, no ‘How are you?’ Her eyes widened a fraction, but he was done being soft, done being gentle.
She lifted her chin, those eyes he’d dreamed of far too often wavering as she held his eye and followed his lead. ‘Did you know Leon’s filed for divorce?’
Leon. The last person on earth he wanted to talk about. Especially with her.
He shook his head, walked away. ‘Why would I know that?’
He didn’t stop until he was before the floor-to-ceiling glass, his eyes trained on the glittering Manhattan skyline and not the woman who dropped to the sofa behind him. His jaw throbbed, its clenched state doing him no favours. But what was the other option? Tell her the truth, let it all come out, and to hell with the consequences.
‘How could he do it, Brendan, after all this time?’
He stiffened, disbelief holding his tongue. Of all the questions to ask...
The man had had a litany of affairs, their marriage had been a farce for long enough already. The real question was why had Leon done it and not her?
‘Brendan?’
He ground his teeth, sensed her red-rimmed eyes spear him, could make out her blurred reflection in the glass, an enticing ivory blot in the midnight blue.
He never should have let her in. Should have taken his concierge’s concerned tone as warning enough. But it was too late for that wisdom now. She was in, and she was under his skin.
A renowne
She had the power to undo him. And after more than a decade of caging his feelings, he was about to let loose, and all because she was unhinged. For the first time in all the years he’d known her, she was crumbling. All because a man who didn’t deserve her was leaving her.
He swallowed the incredulous laugh that wanted to erupt and lifted his whisky to his lips, took a lingering sip.
‘Brendan? Talk to me!’
His knuckles flashed white around the crystal in his hand, his head shifting just enough to show he wasn’t deaf...
‘And I repeat, why did you come here, Hannah?’
‘Why?’ Her voice was as strained as he felt. ‘Because you’re the only one who knows what’s going on, the only one I can talk to who will understand.’
He couldn’t contain the laugh now, harsh, cutting. ‘And that’s where you’re wrong. I don’t understand. I didn’t understand a year ago and I understand even less now.’
The subtle music he’d been playing before she arrived filled the silence and he resisted the urge to fill it. To take it back. To go to her. To soothe her. To do what he always did...
‘I need you, Brendan.’ Her whispered words carried on the melody, her soft confession licking fire through his veins. Words he’d craved once upon a time. Words his body still craved and reacted to even as his head inserted her real meaning. Her very platonic meaning.
With a rigid spine, he went back to the view.
‘You don’t need me, Hannah.’ He took a sip of whisky, cherishing the burn. ‘Like everything in your life, you’ll deal with it and move on.’
He sensed her tense as he hit his mark. ‘How can you say that?’
The need to take it back clambered up within him. The need to apologise, to get them back to safer ground...but what good would it do? He’d spent too many years holding his tongue, waiting on the periphery for her to wake up only to realise she’d been awake all along...awake and just didn’t care.
Until now.
‘Because it’s the truth.’
‘I thought you of all people would understand. You know Leon and you know me, you’re the only one who can help me make sense of it.’
He scoffed, his head shaking. ‘You couldn’t be more wrong.’
‘But you were the one who came to me.’
‘I came to you over a year ago!’ he interjected, grimacing at the force with which he’d exploded and working to ease his tone, his posture. ‘If you’d reacted like this then, I’d understand, but now...’
‘It was different then.’
‘How was it different?’
‘He wasn’t demanding a divorce.’
His smile was a snarl on his lips. ‘Something you should have been doing. Not him.’
‘I know, Brendan, I know.’
‘Do you? Because I came to you and told you he was having an affair and you blinked it away like I’d told you a client had taken their business elsewhere...’ Another laugh as he realised the truth. ‘No, in fact, you would have fought to get them back. With Leon...you just let it slide.’
‘I didn’t let it slide, I—it’s not like I didn’t care...’
‘You just didn’t care enough?’
‘How could I? Mum was dying. Jess was a mess. The Clarence case had imploded. I didn’t have the capacity to deal with it.’
‘The capacity? We’re talking about your marriage, Hannah. Love. Not some case that needs heavy manpower behind it. Can you not see what’s wrong with this picture?’
‘Wrong with me, you mean?’
‘You said it, not me.’
She took a shaky breath, her pain so evident and so rare to witness, but he refused to take it back.
‘You’ve barely lived on the same continent for the past two years, Hannah. It’s hardly the sign of a couple fighting to save their marriage, so why is his filing for divorce such a shock now?’
‘I don’t know, Brendan, I just...’ She hung her head in her hands. ‘The truth is I could cope with the infidelity. I didn’t like it but so long as he kept it quiet, and—’
‘You could cope? Have you heard yourself?’
‘I know how it sounds.’
‘I don’t think you do.’
‘Put yourself in my shoes, Brendan. I’ve lived my life projecting perfection and protecting my family as I did so. I needed to have it under control and we were doing fine, we were...’
‘Fine?’ His laugh rebounded off the glass, cold with disdain. ‘Is that what you call living a lie?’
‘There was no lie.’
‘No? So, playing happy families was—’
‘No, not happy families, we were never going to have children.’
Another scoff. ‘Thank God for that.’
‘Brendan!’ she blurted, the delicate shift of fabric and air telling him she was on the move. Coming closer. ‘You have to understand...’
‘You keep saying that, but it doesn’t make it true.’
He could feel the approaching warmth of her body, his own tensing, preparing itself for the inevitable shift in heart rate, heat, awareness...all for her.
‘Please, Brendan, don’t do this. Don’t judge me. The last few years have been a blur. With Jessie’s breakdown, Mum’s accident then—then losing her, and now Leon’s upped and left, I couldn’t bear it if I lost you too.’
He took another sip of whisky to prevent the denial that wanted to erupt, the hands that wanted to reach for her and reassure her because she could never lose him... No matter how much distance he’d inserted over the years, she’d always managed to cross it.
‘You’re hardly losing me.’
‘You sure about that?’ It was all husky and full of feeling. ‘You’ve been so aloof since Mum’s funeral. Before then even...’
Because he’d had to be...seeing her become ever more closed off, emotionally and physically, knowing what was happening behind closed doors, behind the perfect front. It wasn’t because he didn’t care.
‘I’ve been busy,’ he said simply. ‘You know that.’
‘You’ve always been busy...’ she touched a palm to his upper arm, the contact burning through the thin fabric of his shirt ‘...not distant.’
He eyed her hand, wishing its electrifying effect away. ‘If you think I’ve been distant, why choose to come to me now?’
‘Because I can’t bear it any more. My life is falling apart and you’re the only one I can turn to.’
His heart pulsed, cherishing her words even though they were born of panic, an alien uncertainty that thrummed off her in waves. He’d never seen her this broken. Even at her mother’s funeral she’d been stoic, solid for her sister, composed for the room, just as she’d been that first day he’d met her. Fifteen years ago, at a lecture with Leon. She’d been speaking as an Oxford graduate to a room full of hopefuls. The women all wanting to be her, the men all wanting to bed her, and he’d been no different.
Leon had been gushing about her before their arrival. Smitten and ridiculous with it. But the moment Brendan had seen her, he’d fared no better.
And then, she’d spoken. So eloquent and knowledgeable, the right level of passion, the right level of enthusiasm for justice in a world that simply wasn’t fair, a world that had failed his own parents. He’d been enraptured, spellbound with the entire room as they’d witnessed a world-class lawyer in the making.
A woman so far removed from the one breaking down in his room now and taking his heart with her.
‘What am I going to do?’
He took a steadying breath. ‘You’re going to give him the divorce he wants and put it behind you.’
Her fingers twitched upon his arm and he stepped away, creating the distance his head and heart needed, but his body loathed. ‘Why is it so hard, Hannah? You knew your marriage was over a long time ago.’
‘I’ll have to tell Jess and I can’t bear to have her worrying about me.’
‘But it’s okay for you to worry about her twenty-four-seven?’
‘I don’t—okay, okay, I do. But she’s my little sister and she’s not good, Brendan. She’s already locked herself away at home, surrounded by Mum’s stuff, she’s given up her life in London and I have no idea how to snap her out of it.’
