HELEN BROOKS - The Bride's Secret

“When you agreed to marry me, you were happy.” “When you agreed to marry me, you were happy.” Hudson continued, “There was nothing, not a hint of anything being wrong. And then, within hours, it had all changed. What happened when you left me, Annie?” he asked softly. “Something did. Something...catastrophic.” His eyes were boring into her soul. This was too close—he was getting too close. “Annie?” He touched her face tenderly. “After all we meant to each other, you really think I would be content to let you go without any explanation?” What could she say? She stared at him wide-eyed until she couldn’t bear to look at him any longer and dropped her gaze. “You have no choice,” she stated as firmly as she could, considering her heart was thundering in her ears.... About the Author HELEN BROOKS lives in Northamptonshire, England, and is married with three children. As she is a committed Christian, busy housewife and mother, her spare time is at a premium, but her hobbies include reading and walking her two energetic and very endearing young dogs. Her long-cherished aspiration to write became a reality when she put pen to paper on reaching the age of forty, and sent the result off to Harlequin. Title Page The Bride’s Secret Helen Brooks www.millsandboon.co.uk CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE EPILOGUE Copyright

“When you agreed to marry me, you were happy.”

Hudson continued, “There was nothing, not a hint of anything being wrong. And then, within hours, it had all changed. What happened when you left me, Annie?” he asked softly. “Something did. Something...catastrophic.” His eyes were boring into her soul.

This was too close—he was getting too close.

“Annie?” He touched her face tenderly.

“After all we meant to each other, you really think I would be content to let you go without any explanation?”

What could she say? She stared at him wide-eyed until she couldn’t bear to look at him any longer and dropped her gaze. “You have no choice,” she stated as firmly as she could, considering her heart was thundering in her ears....

HELEN BROOKS lives in Northamptonshire, England, and is married with three children. As she is a committed Christian, busy housewife and mother, her spare time is at a premium, but her hobbies include reading and walking her two energetic and very endearing young dogs. Her long-cherished aspiration to write became a reality when she put pen to paper on reaching the age of forty, and sent the result off to Harlequin.

The Bride’s Secret

Helen Brooks

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CHAPTER ONE

‘MARIANNE? What’s the matter? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.’

Marianne heard Keith speak but she could no more have dredged up a reply at that moment than flown to the moon. That big, lean body—the way he was holding his head—there was only one person in the world who stood with such arrogance and disregard for the rest of the human throng. It had to be Hudson de Sance.

‘Marianne?’ Now Keith reached out and turned her face to his, after staring perplexedly in the direction of her fixed gaze for a moment or two. He couldn’t see anything unusual in the well-dressed, cosmopolitan collection of businessmen and holiday-makers enjoying an alfresco lunch in the open-air dining room of the hotel where they were staying—it was exactly the sort of clientele he would expect to see in a first-class hotel such as this one in the middle of Tangier. ‘What is it?’

‘What? Oh, nothing... I’m just daydreaming,’ she said quietly.

It didn’t work, but Marianne hadn’t expected it to. She and Keith had worked together long enough for him to know when she was evading the truth.

‘Don’t give me that; you resemble someone who’s just had a hard punch where it hurts,’ Keith said worriedly, his eyes returning to the well-populated tables in front of them. ‘Have you seen someone you know? Someone you’d rather not see?’

‘Just leave it, Keith, please.’ Her gaze had briefly swept the area along with his, and she felt weak with relief to find the spectre from the past had vanished.

It couldn’t have been Hudson, she told herself reassuringly. There were probably dozens—hundreds—of tall, dark, brooding men who inclined their heads in that particular way, and she had only seen the back of the man anyway as he had stood looking down over the roaming city spread out beneath them from the hilltop hotel.

Nevertheless, her heart continued to thud as the waiter presented them with lunch menus and took their order for drinks, and her stomach churned relentlessly. Hudson de Sance. He still invaded her dreams and encroached on her days as remorselessly as when she had first left him, despite the fact that she had not seen him in the flesh since that night two years ago. Would she ever get over him? She savaged the thought the second it took form. Of course she would—she had. She was autonomous now; she had had to be.

‘I thought the shoot went really well—how about you?’ Keith was making an effort at conversation and she blessed him for it, although his face revealed she wasn’t hiding her shock as well as she would have hoped. ‘Of course, the location is second to none.’

‘I thought it was good, and you were brilliant as usual.’ She smiled, but it wasn’t flattery—Keith was one of the best photographers in London and she was lucky to be his assistant. All the top models wanted him, knowing he could make them look good even on their worst days, and he could pick and choose his assignments at leisure. She was a good photographer, but that was all, whereas Keith could make his camera talk for him. ‘Those shots you did of Marjorie against the background of the harbour were inspired; I didn’t think we’d get anything out of her today.’

‘Too much drinking in the hotel bar last night,’ Keith agreed softly. ‘She phoned that guy she’s been seeing earlier and it was all hassle, apparently.’ Keith was an easygoing individual—except where his work was concerned, and the beautiful model’s dishevelled state that morning had produced a certain amount of artistic despair followed by a rare temper tantrum, only mollified by indulgent obedience of his every suggestion by the lady in question. ‘She’s a fool to herself,’ he continued quietly. ‘Why she doesn’t dump that no-good boyfriend of hers I’ll never know.’

‘Love?’ Marianne suggested lightly.

‘That sort of slavish obsession isn’t love,’ Keith said flatly. ‘Love isn’t like that. It’s like he’s some sort of drug to her.’

The waiter returned at that moment with their drinks and Marianne was glad of it. There had been that look in her boss’s eyes again—a mixture of desire and devoted-puppy-dog appeal—that was appearing more and more often of late, despite her tactful intimations that she wasn’t interested.

‘Marianne—’ Keith’s voice was urgent as the waiter left them, but whatever he had been about to say was cut short by a deep, cold voice just behind her.

‘Marianne Harding, isn’t it? It’s been a long, long time.’

She froze—all her senses screaming to a halt—and then forced herself to turn and look up at the man who had moved to the side of their table, his grey eyes of glittering stone hard and uncompromising and his mouth unsmiling.

‘Hello, Hudson.’ It was all she could manage.

‘On holiday?’ She remembered this about him—the refusal to waste words on polite chit-chat—but apart from that the man standing in front of her could have been a stranger. Certainly in the past he had never looked at her the way he was looking at her now—his eyes narrowed and as cold as ice and his handsome face devoid of expression.

‘No, I’m...I’m working.’ Her voice was shaking but there wasn’t a thing she could do about it. “This—This is my boss, Keith Gallaway,‘ she added quickly as Keith stood up slowly, his hand outstretched but his face straight. ‘Keith—Hudson de Sance.’

‘I’ve heard of you; you’re one of the best photographers money can buy.’ On the face of it the words shouldn’t have been insulting, but somehow Hudson made them so.

“Thank you.‘ Neither man smiled as they shook hands. ’I’ve heard of you too,‘ Keith said levelly. ‘If ever I need a tough lawyer to get me out of a spot I’ll call you.’ Again it wasn’t complimentary, and Marianne’s heart rose up into her mouth.

‘You couldn’t afford me.’ Hudson’s voice was pure steel.

‘I might surprise you.’

‘Very little surprises me, Mr Gallaway.’ This time the icy voice was wrapped in silk. ‘Isn’t that so, Annie?’

Annie. His pet name for her. She stared at him for a moment without speaking, her huge green eyes with their soft flecks of gold dark with bewilderment. She didn’t want to feel like this—vulnerable, exposed, frightened. He was out of her life now—he had no hold over her any more. The past was behind her.

‘Although this little lady is the exception that proves the rule.’ Hudson turned from her pale face to Keith, and now he smiled, but it was shark-like—threatening. ‘I’m sure you’ve found Marianne to be full of surprises?’ he asked smoothly.

Keith was out of his depth now and it showed. ‘Look, I don’t know what you’re getting at—’

‘No, I’m sure you don’t.’ Again the hard grey gaze moved back to Marianne, lingering for a moment on the pale gold of her hair—its riot of silky curls restrained into a high ponytail secured with black velvet ribbon—before it moved to capture her gaze. ‘But Annie does,’ he added mockingly, his voice dry and with a dark undertone that made her flush hotly before she dropped her eyes.

And then he moved on, walking swiftly past them after a terse nod at Keith and through into the hotel’s more formal dining room, where Marianne saw a tall, elegant redhead detach herself from a group of people waiting at the plate-glass doors. They exchanged a few brief words before Hudson took her arm, the party continuing out of sight through the doors and into the lush reception area.

For a moment she felt as though she was going to faint, the nausea and darkness sweeping over her in a giant wave before she forced it back by sheer will-power. Control. She had to have control.

‘What on earth was all that about?’ Keith sounded as stunned as she felt, and as her eyes turned to him she saw he was looking at her as though he had never seen her before. ‘You’ve never mentioned you know Hudson de Sance, Marianne. The man’s a walking legend in the States—more so since he took on the syndicate and won in that mega trial a couple of years back,’ he said bemusedly.

‘I used to know him.’ Keith was waiting for an answer and she heard her voice replying out of the dark vacuum her mind seemed to have fallen into. ‘But it was a long time ago.’ Two years, three months and four days, to be precise. She could even tell him the exact hours and minutes if she glanced at her watch.

‘I didn’t know you’d lived in the States.’ Keith sounded hurt, even petulant now. ‘I didn’t know you’d even visited America.’

‘I haven’t.’ She took a deep breath and prayed for the buzzing in her ears to fade. ‘Although he’s American his father’s family are still mostly in France, and my mother was French. He was visiting his grandparents some years ago when I was visiting relations in France, and we met at a party. That’s all.’ She tried for a smile but couldn’t get her tremulous mouth to obey. ‘We dated for a while,’ she finished with an effort at casualness.