Ashley Summers - On Wings Of Love

“Are You Sure You Want Me To Stop, Katy?” “Are You Sure You Want Me To Stop, Katy?” He was so close, his breath brushed her mouth. The voice coming from deep in his chest was pure, sensuous persuasion. “I don’t know, Thomas,” she whispered, meeting his gaze. “I truly don’t know.” He ran his fingers down her cheek, his blood leaping at the feel of smooth, warm skin. Passion hardened his body, coiling low and deep and demanding. She made a sighing sound. Her lashes fluttered down as she lifted her face to his in soft surrender. Thomas stilled, his body and mind clashing. The urge to take was maddeningly strong. But there was something else. His hand fell from her cheek. “I think you should know whether or not you want me to stop. After all, we are adults,” he said matter-of-factly. “I want you very much. I also want the feeling to be mutual. It’s been a long day, so...good night, Katy....” Letter to Reader Dear Reader, Welcome to a wonderful new year at Silhouette Desire! Let’s start with a delightfully humorous MAN OF THE MONTH by Lass Small—The Coffeepot Inn. Here, a sinfully sexy hero is tempted by a virtuous woman. He’s determined to protect her from becoming the prey of the local men—and he’s determined to win her for himself! The HOLIDAY HONEYMOONS miniseries continues this month with Resolved To (Re)Marry by Carole Buck. Don’t miss this latest installment of this delightful continuity series! And the always wonderful Jennifer Greene continues her STANFORD SISTERS series with Bachelor Mom. As many of you know, Jennifer is an award winner, and this book shows why she is so popular with readers and critics alike! Completing the month are a new love story from the sizzling pen of Beverly Barton, The Tender Trap; a delightful Western from Pamela Macaluso, The Loneliest Cowboy; and something a little bit different from Ashley Summers, On Wings of Love. Enjoy! Senior Editor Please address questions and book requests to: Silhouette Reader Service U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325. Buffalo, NY 14269 Canadian: P.O. Box 609. Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3 Title Page On Wings Of Love Ashley Summers www.millsandboon.co.uk ASHLEY SUMMERS ASHLEY SUMMERS is an insurable romantic who lives in Texas, in a house that overflows with family and friends. Her busy life revolves around the man she married thirty years ago, her three children and her handsome grandson, Eric. Formerly the owner and operator of a landscaping firm, she also enjoys biking, aerobics, reading and traveling. Dedication To Virginia and John McKinney and my beloved niece, Terry Hartley Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Copyright

“Are You Sure You Want Me To Stop, Katy?”

He was so close, his breath brushed her mouth. The voice coming from deep in his chest was pure, sensuous persuasion.

“I don’t know, Thomas,” she whispered, meeting his gaze. “I truly don’t know.”

He ran his fingers down her cheek, his blood leaping at the feel of smooth, warm skin. Passion hardened his body, coiling low and deep and demanding. She made a sighing sound. Her lashes fluttered down as she lifted her face to his in soft surrender.

Thomas stilled, his body and mind clashing. The urge to take was maddeningly strong. But there was something else. His hand fell from her cheek.

“I think you should know whether or not you want me to stop. After all, we are adults,” he said matter-of-factly. “I want you very much. I also want the feeling to be mutual. It’s been a long day, so...good night, Katy....”

Dear Reader,

Welcome to a wonderful new year at Silhouette Desire! Let’s start with a delightfully humorous MAN OF THE MONTH by Lass Small—The Coffeepot Inn. Here, a sinfully sexy hero is tempted by a virtuous woman. He’s determined to protect her from becoming the prey of the local men—and he’s determined to win her for himself!

The HOLIDAY HONEYMOONS miniseries continues this month with Resolved To (Re)Marry by Carole Buck. Don’t miss this latest installment of this delightful continuity series!

And the always wonderful Jennifer Greene continues her STANFORD SISTERS series with Bachelor Mom. As many of you know, Jennifer is an award winner, and this book shows why she is so popular with readers and critics alike!

Completing the month are a new love story from the sizzling pen of Beverly Barton, The Tender Trap; a delightful Western from Pamela Macaluso, The Loneliest Cowboy; and something a little bit different from Ashley Summers, On Wings of Love. Enjoy!

Senior Editor

Please address questions and book requests to:

Silhouette Reader Service

U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325. Buffalo, NY 14269

Canadian: P.O. Box 609. Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3

On Wings Of Love

Ashley Summers

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ASHLEY SUMMERS

is an insurable romantic who lives in Texas, in a house that overflows with family and friends. Her busy life revolves around the man she married thirty years ago, her three children and her handsome grandson, Eric. Formerly the owner and operator of a landscaping firm, she also enjoys biking, aerobics, reading and traveling.

To Virginia and John McKinney

and my beloved niece, Terry Hartley

One

Katy Lawrence parked her car in the shade of an ancient apple tree and slowly got out. Oblivious to the gravel under her bare feet, she stared at the place that would be her home for the next five weeks. A chill of wonder went up her spine. The Victorian house, all sparkling white paint and lacy gingerbread trim, drowsed in the mists like a sweet, vague memory from the distant past. It was a most bewitchingly haunting feeling.

Keeping her gaze on the house, Katy found her sandals and slipped them on with only a quick downward glance. The mossy brick walkway leading to the front door was a perfect touch, she thought. She felt another feathery chill.

“For heaven’s sake, it’s just an old house, Katy,” she chided herself. She was not usually given to whimsy.

She quickened her pace and mounted the steps, then crossed the veranda. Above the old-fashioned door knocker hung a hand-written sign that read, “Come on in, I’m around somewhere.”

Hesitantly she opened the door and stepped into the cool, shadowed entryway. “Hello?” she called. “Hello, anyone home?”

No answer. She waited for a moment, then walked on. When she reached the living room, her peculiar sense of déjà vu deepened to tiny shocks of recognition.

Katy nibbled her lip as she gazed around the airy room. She had never seen this house before, yet each object her eyes encountered evoked the same puzzling sense of familiarity. The words Of course! sang through her mind. Of course there were lace curtains at the windows. Of course there were gleaming wooden floors, and the sensuous curves of wicker furniture stained the exact hue of sweet-clover honey. Even the fresh flowers were a given, as was the basket of green apples on the coffee table.

Three perfectly round, black-and-white stones lay beside them, luring her fingers to caress their water-smoothed surfaces. Resisting the urge to touch, she made another appraisal of the room with a travel writer’s critical gaze. Since it was a bed and breakfast, not a hotel, she’d give the place three stars on first impression alone, Katy decided. Whoever lived here had a good eye for the small touches that made a house so welcoming to a traveler.

Who lived here? she wondered. This was a professional establishment, surely accustomed to the arrival of guests at some point during the afternoon. So where were the hosts?

Silence. The soft heat of an island summer drifted through the open windows, fragrant with the enticing scent of new-mown grass and the faint seawater tang of Puget Sound. Catching back the golden strands of hair tickling her cheeks, Katy eyed the tray sitting on a wicker table. It contained a pitcher of iced lemonade. For guests? Deciding it was, she poured a glass and drank it with hearty enjoyment.

Cold lemonade on a hot summer day. With a poignant sense of loss, Katy suddenly realized why this warm, elegantly time-worn room tugged at her heartstrings. It reminded her of her grandmother’s house in Spokane.

“God, I haven’t thought of Grammy in ages!” she whispered, shivering as the long-ago memory opened a tiny crack in the mental dam that had kept her safe. The specter of loss slipped through, and she was overcome with a frightening sense of vulnerability.

“No,” Katy said, squaring her shoulders. She forced herself to focus on the photographs adorning the fireplace mantel. She studied them, her mouth softening. Children, parents and grandparents. Two young couples in various poses, with and without the children. A handsome teenager holding up a string of fish which, judging from the rod in his other hand, he had caught. Family, she thought, and felt the familiar pinch of longing.

Her gaze shot back to the young fisherman. Above the mantel was a large framed portrait of the same man. He appeared to be thirty or so at the time it was painted. His skin was tanned, his coal-black hair charmingly tousled. Her gaze stopped on his face, suddenly riveted as a sweet quill of feeling arrowed through her. He had a strong, aquiline nose and a stubborn chin. But it was his eyes that caught and held her attention. Those sky blue eyes seemed to be looking directly at her.

Entranced by the clarity of his gaze, Katy studied his face. There was something about his expression, an openness she found very pleasing.

She started as a sound broke her bemusement. Someone was whistling. Turning, she glanced through an interior doorway, past a golden-oak table and out a bank of windows that overlooked the back lawn. Behind the house lay a meadow. And striding through the lush green grass was the man in the picture.

Whistling as he walked, he swung a small metal bucket in each hand, brimful with ripe raspberries. He was dressed in a T-shirt, faded jeans and scruffy sneakers. Her breath caught, and she had to force herself to exhale. Even from this distance he was an arresting man.

Drawing herself up to her full height of five-feet-three and one-quarter inches, Katy took a step forward, only to stop in sudden indecision. Should she wait to be discovered or walk to meet him? And while she stood here and dithered, he swung lithely across the lawn and down the redwood deck to the screened door.

Katy reminded herself that she was twenty-nine and a little too old to be thrown by an attractive male. But damn, he was appealing! Ruggedly so, with the kind of muscles that came from hard work, not a gym.

She saw his vivid blue eyes widening as he stepped inside and saw her, then crinkle at the corners with a smile.

“Well, hello!” he said. “This is one of my nicer surprises today.” He set down the buckets and stuck out his hand. “I’m Thomas Logan. And you are...?”

Katy started to shake hands, then realized she still held her empty glass. Putting it down, she slipped her hand into his hard, brown fingers.

“Katy Lawrence.” She paused expectantly. “I’ve just arrived. On the ferry,” she went on when he tipped his head quizzically Idiot! Of course you arrived on the ferry, she chided herself silently. How else could you get on and off the island? Except by plane-and you’ve just driven all the way from California to avoid flying.