Secret Surrender. Laura Martin

      Table of Contents

       Cover Page

       Excerpt

       About the Author

       Title Page

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

       Chapter Four

       Chapter Five

       Chapter Six

       Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Chapter Nine

       Chapter Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Copyright

       “I’m sorry about the fuss just now.”

      Drew was lounging casually on a bank, evidently waiting for her to catch up with him.

      “You’ve had a soft life and now that things are getting tough, you can’t handle it!”

      

      Christy’s lips parted; Drew’s words had been flung at her with a casualness that stung. “That’s not true!” she snapped indignantly.

      

      He raised a dark brow in query. “Isn’t it?”

      LAURA MARTIN lives in a small English village in Gloucestershire with her husband, two young children and a lively sheepdog! Laura has a great love of interior design and, together with her husband, has recently completed the renovation of their Victorian cottage. Her hobbies include gardening, the theater, music and reading, and she finds great pleasure and inspiration in walking daily in the beautiful countryside around her home. Secret Surrender is Laura Martin’s debut novel in Harlequin Presents. Look out for more from this exciting new author in the months to come.

       Secret Surrender

      Laura Martin

      

      

www.millsandboon.co.uk

       CHAPTER ONE

      ‘CHRISTY?’ She could see him in the half-light, propped up on one elbow, watching her with a face that expressed incredulity and anger. ‘Just where the hell do you think you’re going?’

      The hotel sheets didn’t cover much of the powerful naked torso. Christy, in the second it took her to turn her head, appraised the glistening body with its sheen of sweat, found herself picturing the frantic activity that had gone on between them, on this most humid of summer nights. ‘I…I thought you were asleep.’ She continued her scramble in the grey light for her clothes. Her blouse had been retrieved but that wasn’t enough—not if she wanted to escape the luxurious surroundings of this place without causing a riot.

      ‘You haven’t answered my question.’ His voice was steel-edged, insistent, and Christy found herself trembling deep inside.

      What on earth was she doing here? How had she ever allowed this to happen? She closed her eyes for a split-second and called herself all manner of names as she pulled her blouse frantically over her tousled, shiny blonde mane.

      ‘Christy, come back to bed! It’s past one in the morning.’ It was a strong voice. Strong and deep and commanding. Used to being obeyed, used to having its wishes followed immediately, particularly when those wishes were directed at young, attractive females who barely had a stitch on.

      But I’m not just another of his bimbos, Christy reminded herself desperately, frantically continuing her search for her clothes. I’m not! Her eyes were more used to the light now and she saw with relief a pile of clothing on the floor beside the bed. ‘This is crazy! How did I ever get myself into this situation?’ she whispered frantically. ‘I…I’ve got to go; I should never have stayed—never!’

      Since the ardour of their mutual passion had been extinguished so satisfactorily, that thought had been the only thing on her mind—that and what a fool she had made of herself. ‘I’ve got to get out of here.’ Her voice trembled noticeably as she cast her eyes towards the bed and with enormous effort she took a deep breath and added in stronger tones, ‘I should never have come here. We should never have——

      Drew leant forward then and she felt the strength of his fingers curled around her upper arm, felt tingling deep in the pit of her stomach as the heat of his breath warmed the sensitive place between her neck and her shoulder-blade, sending shivers of desire down her spine, just like before. ‘Christy, don’t be so hasty.’

      His voice had momentarily lost its edge, as if he too had fallen under the spell that had overwhelmed them so unexpectedly earlier in the evening. Her name sounded so sweet, so sensuous on his lips, beguiling her, trying to fool her all over again. And his mouth— oh, that was a sensation! How could kisses be so erotic, so tempting? Christy wondered, as her eyes began to close and her body momentarily swayed back against the strength of Drew Michaels’ powerful chest.

      ‘Don’t be foolish,’ he murmured huskily, running his mouth along the curve of her neck, sweeping her hair away with his large strong hands. ‘You can’t leave now. You know you can’t.’

      She was weakening all over again. Her resolve just seemed to melt away at the lightest of touches. She felt the sharp familiar ache of desire deep in the pit of her stomach and knew that time was running out; any more of this and she wouldn’t be able to hold on, wouldn’t be able to rescue what little pride and self-esteem she had left…

      With a jerk Christy dragged herself free and stood up, stepping away from the bed, walking purposefully to the lamp over at the far side of the room. She clicked it on, steeling herself for the flood of light that would reveal Drew Michaels in all his glory, that would display the luxurious yet impersonal surroundings of the best suite in the hotel, and at the same time show up the extreme tackiness of the whole damnable situation that she had somehow allowed herself to slide into. She had always vowed that she would save herself for the right man…to be nearly twenty-three and still a virgin had been some kind of a record, she suspected—at least in the world she inhabited. But that was over now; she had thrown it all away in a moment of supreme stupidness.

      He was angry. The sharp, tight angle of his jaw told her that, the ice