The English Lord's Secret Son by Margaret Way Page A

you got?” Her voice was remarkably cool when inside she felt terribly unsettled. Sexual radiance came off him in waves. She made certain she didn’t stand too close to catch them. Even then, the scent of him was in her nostrils, as powerful an aphrodisiac as it had ever been. She took a deep breath.
    This has to stop.
    “I don’t think you have any right to ask,” he answered in a terse, pragmatic fashion. He continued to move ahead of her, as though not caring if she followed, which she did briskly. All the bedrooms were very spacious with a series of white-shuttered French doors opening out onto a covered balcony. The master suite was the most luxurious with a huge canopied bed with white filmy bed hangings. He walked out onto the balcony and looked at the glorious view with the brilliant sun scattering diamond sparkles across the deep blue waters.
    “The master suite,” Cate said quite unnecessarily when he came back inside. How could she ever cancel out her memories, the two of them in bed together, the weight of his body on hers, the power of his hands, the interlocking limbs, their mouths, their tongues...the high-burning passion of it all. The way of all flesh. She had prayed for someone to come into her life to supplant him. No one had even come close. It was a savage blow, but she had been adjusting to it. She had her son. Not everyone found their soul mate.
    Had Cate only known it, Wyndham was thinking much the same thing. The excitement, the heat, the enormous pleasure he had taken even in their clashes, too little time before they had been thrown headlong into love making. She had touched his body, his heart, his mind and his soul. He had thought things would never change. How wrong could a man be? The merry dance she had led him went nowhere? To hell? Even now, God help him, he wanted to bolt the door, throw her down on the bed, make punishing love to her. She had known all about passion. About giving herself to a man. The merest contact with her had brought back the past.
    Yet when he spoke his voice was coolly casual. “I think that does it. Enjoy your trip around the garden. They look splendid, by the way. Such a pity you never did get to see the full restoration of Radclyffe Hall’s gardens.”
    “I did what I wanted to do,” she said, her tone tight. “I got away.”
    The question was, what was she going to do now?
    Just the sight of him and the years had melted away.
    * * *
    The buggy ride around the gardens was a pleasure. It even shifted her mind off what was going on inside the house. Davey had packed the leeward side of the island with dozens of species of native plants that required minimal watering. An astonishing array of agaves caught her eye, some with pearly marking. There were striking aloes with yellow flowers and millions of hot pink and bright yellow little succulent flowers. Davey seemed to welcome her interest in the garden he had created out of what was once a wilderness.
    Wyndham didn’t need her. He was the billionaire potential buyer. It hadn’t taken her long to see Lady McCready both liked and trusted him. Lord Julian Wyndham was a very charming man. He had certainly made the old lady’s eyes twinkle. No problem with an à deux , then. Amazing Lady McCready hadn’t asked him a single question about his private life. He had acted as if he didn’t have one.
    * * *
    When she returned to the house it was obvious the meeting had gone well. Lady McCready’s soft powdery cheeks were flushed with pleasure. Catrina has justified my faith in her, Lady McCready thought. She had brought her the right person to buy the island. Lord Wyndham would treat it like a second home. Now wasn’t that a wonderful outcome? She didn’t tell Catrina. Julian—he had insisted she call him Julian—had asked her to give him a little more time before they made their announcement. In return he would allow Catrina to have a contract drawn up. Rather than wanting Davey and Mary off the island, he