Mr Right All Along

She lifted her chin and met his kiss. Tender and true and so emotional. She clung to him .

‘I love you,’ he said.

Two fat tears trickled down her face. He kissed them away, but the lump in her throat grew. She knew she had to push past it.

‘No one...’ she whispered, but her voice gave out.

‘No one what?’

She could see him thinking.

His eyes widened and he asked in a strangled voice. ‘You’ve never heard that before?’

She couldn’t even shake her head, her throat was so tight, and for a split-second she wanted to look away from him, to hide safely behind her personal ramparts. But it was too late. And, as exposed as she was, she was glad it was him seeing her now.

‘Oh, Stella.’ His expression softened, but the embrace he enveloped her in was fierce. ‘Not even your father?’ He ran his hands up her back. ‘I love you, I love you, I love you.’

He kissed her, held her. She leaned as close as she could. She never wanted to leave his arms.

He scooped her up and with keen determination quickly looked about. After three strides he turned and sank onto the sand at the very base of the cliff. His arms loosened enough for her to wriggle and wrap her legs around his waist. Embracing him. She kissed him back, pouring herself into the passion, wanting to give him everything she could. She’d missed him, needed him. She couldn’t get close enough.

‘I was worried I’d lost you,’ he groaned breathlessly, between kisses that grew both frantic and yet more tender. ‘That I was never going to have you...not really have you. Not like this.’

She took the lead, impatient and yet aching to savour the preciousness of this moment. She grappled with the zipper of his jeans. He shifted beneath her, helping. Helping again by sliding his hand under her skirt, up her thighs, pulling her panties aside enough to access her secret heat. But then she hesitated, looking deeply into his eyes, drawing courage from what she saw in them. Her heart soared. Lust was a mere fraction of all she was feeling.

‘I love you,’ she whispered.

There was another flawless moment of silent, straining emotion before he breathed—a broken sigh of pleasure, an aching heart filled to bursting.

‘Another first?’ he whispered back, gazing into her eyes as she nodded. ‘The most precious,’ he muttered gruffly.

Her eyes remained locked with his as she sank down, taking him hard and deep within. Her core moulded around his, strengthening, securing. They both sighed at the searing sweetness. Fully clothed, yet bared to the soul, Stella had never felt as close to anyone as she did to him then.

‘I just want to love you,’ he breathed, combing his fingers through her hair and cradling the nape of her neck. ‘Just want to stay close like this.’

She knew he meant more than physically—that he felt this emotional connection as profoundly as she.

‘Don’t ever shut me out.’ His eyes gleamed with that contrary mix of arrogance and vulnerability that she now understood and adored in him.

‘Never.’ Another tear escaped, but her soul eased. ‘I’m here for you—you’re here for me.’

It really was that simple. That true. That perfect. She had never thought she could ever feel this happy. This loved.

He smiled that gorgeous, dimple-studded smile that was simultaneously wicked and challenging and irresistible and heart-stopping.

‘Always.’

EPILOGUE

PRINCE EDUARDO DE SANTIS cradled the tiny baby in his arms and looked across the room at his sleeping wife. She was pale and she had smudges beneath her eyes, and her hair was swept back in a loose, messy ponytail, but he’d never seen her looking so beautiful.

The bells celebrating the birth had only recently stopped ringing across the city. The bells in his heart were still going strong—reverberating with joy around his body. His wife and daughter were well and happy and safe. And he’d never felt so lucky. Never so grateful.

‘No reason why she couldn’t be a non-commissioned officer if she wanted,’ he said slowly, turning to the older man who stood in the room with him.

A slow smile spread across General Zambrano’s face. ‘No reason. She’d be good at training on the base.’

‘Part-time is possible, eventually?’ Eduardo suggested.

He’d not wanted Stella to work during her pregnancy, and she’d mostly relented in her opposition to that request, accompanying him on outings only when she was feeling well. But now...

He knew she wanted to be the best, most ‘there’ mother she could, and he had no doubt that she would be, but he suspected she missed flexing other muscles as well. Attending art exhibition openings with him wasn’t going to be enough for her. She needed options.

‘Of course. Just one or two classes a week, and she can do them more or less as and when she likes. She was always our fittest female recruit. Beat more than half the men.’

‘The strongest of the lot.’ Eduardo smiled smugly. And the most determined.

‘You know her quite well, then?’ The General actually winked.

‘Getting there.’ He was going to need the rest of his life to really get to know her.

‘Don’t think you’re going to make plans for my future without letting me have a say in it.’

A cool voice from the corner made Eduardo turn back towards the bed. His heart soared when he saw the glint in Stella’s eyes.

‘You’re awake.’ He stated the obvious with the smile she always pulled from him—from the deepest corner of his heart.

‘Of course I am,’ she answered sweetly. ‘I’ve been awake the last five minutes, eavesdropping on you two cooing over our baby.’

Even her father let out a rare laugh. ‘Then you know I’m late getting back to my office already.’

‘Shocking behaviour for a general,’ she admonished him. ‘But utterly appropriate for a father and brand-new grandfather.’

Eduardo glanced at the older man and saw the softness in his eyes. And the concern.

‘Now I’ve seen you awake and well...’ her father began.

‘I’m fine, Dad. Stand down. Go.’ She reassured him and released him, with a smile that held just a hint of vulnerability. ‘I love you,’ she said softly.

‘I love you too,’ her father mumbled, gruff and swift, and he was out of the room before he’d even finished the garbled words.

With a chuckle, Eduardo carried his daughter over to her mother. ‘He’s getting better at it,’ he teased. ‘And so are you.’

That she’d gone through most of her life without being told that she was loved still broke his heart. So he made it his business to tell her every day. Several times a day. And he liked to show her too—every way he could think of.

‘I’m making him practise all the time.’ Stella glanced from the door her father had just walked out of back to him. ‘Eventually it’ll come naturally, right?’

That was his Stella. Brave and honest and always trying so very hard.

‘He dotes on his granddaughter already.’ Eduardo carefully passed their sleeping baby to her. ‘I had to prise her from his arms before.’

‘Really?’

A happy glow lit her eyes, making the blue that touch more vibrant. He could look into those eyes for ever.

‘You’re not just finessing that?’

He shook his head. ‘He adores her. Just as he adores you.’ He kissed her. ‘Just as I adore you.’

He sat back and drank in the sight of Stella cradling their stirring baby. Loved and loving, she was indescribably beautiful.

‘Antonio had to leave a while ago.’ He cleared the huskiness from his throat. ‘An issue has come up.’

‘Of course.’ Stella half-sighed, half-laughed. ‘I wish he wasn’t so alone. It doesn’t seem fair when we have everything.’

‘We’re here for him,’ Eduardo muttered. ‘A whole little back-up team now. You never know. He might even loosen up and hold her one day.’

Stella adjusted her robe to nurse her daughter, unable to believe that this tiny piece of perfection was hers. That she and Eduardo had created her.

Princess Sapphira Rose Alessia was almost twelve hours old. They’d named her for the stone that symbolised so much for them, and to break with the tradition that she’d been born into. Sapphira would be herself. And then, out of love, they’d honoured Stella’s mother, Rose, and Antonio’s fiancée, Alessia.

Crown Prince Antonio had taken that news with the tiniest flicker of tension in one eyelid—which Stella had taken to mean that he was deeply touched. He’d just never show it more than that.

In the six months since she’d married Eduardo her life had been transformed. They’d shared so much. She’d gone to every royal engagement of his that she could—both official and unofficial. He’d trained with her, helping her adjust her activities as her pregnancy had progressed. And he’d gone to every medical appointment with her. They’d talked through secrets and fears, they’d joked and battled in board games, they’d sailed and swum...and they had become more than a partnership. They’d become a force.

Yet even now she struggled to believe she was married to this most gorgeous man, who was arrogant and kind and impulsive and so loving.

When the tiny Princess had fallen asleep again he took her and settled her in the beautiful bassinet. Stella’s eyes filled as she looked at the tall, loyal man who was such a loving father to their child. And a tender, wicked lover to her.

He turned and caught her emotional moment. In a heartbeat he was beside her, pulling her into his arms, drawing her to rest her head on his shoulder. Her heart melted all over again.

‘Heaven on earth,’ she mumbled, and felt his grunt of amusement.

‘Despite the aches and pains?’

‘She was worth it.’ She laced her fingers through his, remembering Eduardo’s anxiety when she’d gone into labour.

‘It happened so fast. I was scared,’ Eduardo said huskily.

‘Like our marriage.’ She gave a watery-eyed chuckle. ‘It must be in the blood—she’ll be just like you. A pirate princess, swooping in and taking what she wants like that.’ She snapped her fingers.

‘As if you don’t do exactly the same.’ He smiled back. ‘She may still be the Crown Princess one day,’ Eduardo added, a touch of apology in his tone.

‘Maybe.’ Stella nodded. Given Antonio’s frozen heart, it seemed likely. ‘But she’ll definitely be queen of her own destiny.’

With a laugh Eduardo leaned forward and kissed her. She kissed him back so ardently he groaned. ‘How soon till I can take you both home?’

‘My pirate has no patience,’ she teased, but she was pleased.

‘Do you blame me for wanting to hoard my precious treasure and keep it all to myself?’

He was never going to be able to do that—at least, not for long. There’d be photo calls and royal duty and responsibility soon enough. But there would also be their tiny island to escape to, with its beautiful palace and its secret cave and the wealth of treasures that both contained—the memories they’d already made and the moments that were yet to come.

Stella gazed at her husband and that old familiar tightness gripped her throat. But she pushed past it anyway. ‘I love you. Beyond words. Beyond everything.’

‘I love you too.’

He cupped her face tenderly and gave her a look that told her everything she’d always wanted to hear: that she had everything she’d wanted to have.

‘For ever and always.’

* * * * *

Breaking All Their Rules

Praise for Sue MacKay

‘A deeply emotional, heart-rending story that will make you smile and make you cry. I truly recommend it—and don’t miss the second book: the story about Max.’

—HarlequinJunkie on The Gift of a Child

‘What a great book. I loved it. I did not want it to end. This is one book not to miss.’

—Goodreads on The Gift of a Child

Zac knew she never turned down a dare.

But she’d have to. Tonight’s success rested on her being one hundred and ten per cent on her game. Her mother had taught her well—go easy on the alcohol or make a fool of herself. Not going to happen tonight, when everyone’s eyes would be on her.

Zac’s throat worked as he tasted the champagne. Appreciation lit up his eyes. His tongue licked his bottom lip.

And Olivia melted: deep inside where she’d stored all her Zac memories there was a pool of hot, simmering need. The glass clinked against her teeth as the divine liquid spilled across her tongue. And while her shoulders lightened, tension of a different kind wound into a ball in her tummy and down to her core.

‘Delicious,’ she whispered.

Zac or the wine?

Dear Reader,

Fiji is one of the world’s treasures, with lots of beautiful islands where resorts sit beneath the palms, surrounded by the bluest of seas where the most colourful fish live. Kayaking around the islands is an adventure like none I’ve experienced elsewhere.

When I was thinking about this story the idea of sending Olivia and Zac there while they got to know each other just popped into my head—and so here they are. These two have had a strong physical relationship in the past, but this time they need to get to know each other far better—and where better than on a tiny island in the middle of the ocean?

Zac and Olivia both need to learn to trust their instincts and follow their hearts. Of course it’s not easy, but the end result will be worth it. I love giving my characters their happy-ever-after. I hope you enjoy this one.

I’d love to hear from you on [e-mail], or drop by suemackay.co.nz.

All the best,

Sue

SUE MACKAY lives with her husband in New Zealand’s beautiful Marlborough Sounds, with the water at her doorstep and the birds and the trees at her back door. It is the perfect setting to indulge her passions of entertaining friends by cooking them sumptuous meals, drinking fabulous wine, going for hill walks or kayaking around the bay—and, of course, writing stories.

Dear Lyn, I am going to miss your laugh and those good times we yakked in your sewing room. Thank you for dragging me out to find my other passions that I’d forgotten all about until I met you. You read every book and this one is definitely for you.

CHAPTER ONE

OLIVIA COATES-CLARK STRAIGHTENED up and indicated to a nurse to wipe her forehead in an attempt to get rid of an annoying tickle that had been irritating her for some minutes. ‘Is it me, or is Theatre hotter than usual this morning?’

‘I haven’t noticed,’ Kay, the anaesthetist, answered as she kept an eye on the monitors in front of her. ‘Sure you’re not stressing about tonight, Olivia?’

‘Me? Stress?’ Olivia grimaced behind her mask. She was a control freak; of course she stressed. ‘Okay, let’s get this second implant inserted so we can bring our girl round.’

‘So everything’s good to go for the gala fundraiser?’ Kay persisted.

‘Fingers crossed,’ Olivia muttered, refusing to think about what could go wrong. Her list of requirements and tasks was complete, neat little ticks beside every job and supplier and by the name of every attendee, including the seeing eye dog coming.

‘I bumped into Zac yesterday. He’s looking forward to catching up with everyone.’ Kay’s forced nonchalance didn’t fool her.

‘I’m sure everyone feels the same.’ The anaesthetist had hit on the reason for Olivia feeling unnaturally hot. Zachary Wright. Just knowing he’d be at the function she’d spent weeks organising made her toes curl with unwanted anticipation. Not to mention the alien nervousness. ‘Zac,’ she sighed into her mask. The one man she’d never been able to delete from her mind. And, boy, had she tried.

‘You need more mopping?’ the nurse asked.

‘No, thanks.’ That particular irritation had gone, and she’d ignore the other—Zac—by concentrating on supervising the plastic surgery registrar opposite her as he placed the tissue expander beneath the pocket under Anna Seddon’s pectoralis major muscle on the left side of her chest wall.

The registrar had supported Olivia as she’d done the first insertion of an expander on the right side, watching every move she made, listening to every word she said, as though his life depended on it. Which it did. One mistake and she’d be on him like a ton of bricks. So far he was doing an excellent job of the second breast implant. ‘Remember to make sure this one’s placed exactly the same as the first one. No woman is going to thank you for lopsided breasts.’ This might only be the first stage in a series of surgeries to reconstruct Anna’s breasts but it had to be done well. There was no other way.

The guy didn’t look up as he said, ‘I get it. This is as much about appearances and confidence as preventing cancer.’

‘Making a person feel better about themselves is our job description.’ Her career had evolved along a path of repairing people who’d had misadventures or deforming surgeries. But she didn’t knock those specialists working to make people happier in less traumatic circumstances. Everyone was entitled to feel good about themselves, for whatever reasons; to hide behind a perfect facade if they needed to.

For Olivia, looking her absolute best was imperative: a confident shield that hid the messy, messed-up teenager from the critical world waiting to pounce. Making the most of her appearance hadn’t been about attracting males and friends since she was twelve and the night her father had left home for the last time, taking his clothes and car, and her heart. Leaving her to deal with her mother’s problems alone.

Kay glanced down at the table. ‘This isn’t the first time I’ve seen a perfectly healthy woman deliberately have her breasts removed, but I still can’t get my head round it. I don’t know if I’d have the guts to have the procedure done if I didn’t already have cancer.’

Olivia understood all too well, but … ‘If you’d lost your grandmother and one sister to the disease, and your mother had had breast cancer you might think differently.’ Bad luck came in all forms.

‘I’d do whatever it took to be around to watch my kids grow up,’ one of the nurses said.

‘You’re right, and so would I.’ Kay shivered. ‘Still, it’s a huge decision. You’d want your man on side, for sure.’

‘Anna’s husband’s been brilliant. I’d go so far as to call him a hero. He’s backing her all the way.’ A hero? If she wasn’t in Theatre she’d have to ask herself what she was on. Heroes were found in romance stories, not real life—not often anyhow, and not in her real life. Not that she’d ever let one in if one was on offer.

As Olivia swabbed the incision a clear picture of Zac spilled into her mind, sent a tremor down her arm, had her imagining his scent. Oh, get over yourself. Zac wasn’t her hero. Wasn’t her anything. Hadn’t been since she’d walked away from their affair eighteen months ago. But—she sighed again—what would’ve happened if she’d found the courage to push the affair beyond the sex and into a relationship where they talked and shared and had been there for each other? Eventually Zac would’ve left her. At least by getting in first she’d saved herself from being hurt. Tonight she’d see quite a bit of him, which didn’t sit easily with her. The day his registration for the gala had arrived in her inbox she’d rung him for a donation for the fundraising auction. Since then she hadn’t been able to erase him from her mind. Come on. He’s always been lurking in the back of your head, reminding you how good you were together.

‘So there are good guys out there.’ Kay’s tone was acerbic.

Zac might be one of the good guys. She hadn’t hung round long enough to find out. She’d got too intense about him too quickly and pulling the plug on their fling had been all about staying in control and not setting herself up to be abandoned. Going through that at twelve had been bad enough; to happen again when she was an adult would be ridiculous. So she’d run. Cowardly for sure, but the only way to look out for herself. And now she had an op to finish and a gala to start. ‘Let’s get this tidied up and the saline started.’ She had places to be and hopefully not many things to do.

An hour later she was beginning to wish she’d stayed in Theatre for the rest of the day. The number of texts on her phone gave the first warning that not everything was going to plan at the hotel where the gala evening would be held; that her list was in serious disarray.

As she ran for her car, the deluge that all but drowned her and destroyed her carefully styled hair, which she’d spent the evening before having coloured and tidied, was the second warning. At least her thick woollen coat had saved her silk blouse from ruin. But rain had not been on her schedule, which put her further out of sorts. Everything about tonight had to be perfect.

Slamming the car door, she glared out at the black sky through the wet windscreen. ‘Get a move on. I want you gone before my show starts tonight.’

The third suggestion that things were turning belly up was immediate and infuriating. One turn of the ignition key and the flat clicking sound told a story of its own. The battery was kaput. Because? Olivia slapped the dashboard with her palm. The lights had been left on. There was no one to blame except herself.

Olivia knew the exact moment Zac walked through the entrance of the plush hotel, and it had nothing to do with the sudden change in noise as the doors opened, letting in sounds of rain and car horns. She might’ve been facing the receptionist but she knew. Her skin prickled, her belly tightened, and the air around her snapped. Worse, she forgot whatever it was she’d been talking about to the young woman on the other side of the polished oak counter.

So nothing had changed. He still rattled her chain, made her feel hot and sexy and out of control—and he hadn’t even said a word to her. Probably hadn’t recognised her back view.

‘Hello, Olivia. It’s been a while.’

That particular husky, sexy voice belonged to only one man. ‘Since what, Zac?’ she asked, as she lifted her head and turned to face him, fighting the adrenaline rush threatening to turn her into a blithering wreck. This was why she’d left him. Zac undermined her self-control. How had she found the strength to walk away? Not that there’d been anything more to their relationship than sex. Nothing that should be making her blood fizz and her heart dance a tango just because he stood a few feet from her. No way did she want to jump his bones within seconds of seeing him. She shouldn’t want to at all. But no denying it—she did. Urgently.

Black-coffee-coloured eyes bored into her, jolting her deep inside. ‘Since we last spent the night together, enjoying each other’s company.’

‘Go for the jugular, why don’t you?’ she gasped, knowing how wrong it was to even wish he’d give her a hug and say he’d missed her.

Zac instantly looked contrite. ‘Sorry, Olivia. I didn’t mean to upset you.’

‘You didn’t,’ she lied. Behind her physical reaction her heart was sitting up, like it had something to say. Like what? Not going there. ‘The bedroom scene was the grounds of our relationship.’ That last night she’d got up at three in the morning, said she couldn’t do it any more, and had walked out without explaining why. To tell him her fears would’ve meant exposing herself, and that was something she never did.

‘So? How’s things? Keeping busy?’ Inane, safe, and so not what she really wanted to ask. Got a new woman in your life? Do you ever miss me? Even a teeny, weeny bit? Or are you grateful I pulled the plug when I did? Right now all her muscles felt like they were reaching for him, wanting him touching them, rubbing them, turning her on even more. Had she done the right thing in leaving? Of course she had. Rule number one: stay in control. She’d been losing it back then. Fast.