One Summer At The Castle: Stay Through the Night / A Stormy Spanish Summer / Behind Palace Doors
Stay Through the Night by Anne MatherLiam Jameson is a world-famous writer of paranormal thrillers. But fame has its price, and now Liam lives reclusively on a remote Scottish island. Then Rosa Chantry knocks on his door and throws his world upside down. His desire for her is strong, but his conviction that he cannot satisfy a woman is stronger. But Rosa is persistent, and so is Liam's need for her. She is determined to ease his fear that the past has robbed him of his power as a man…A Stormy Spanish Summer by Penny JordanFelicity Clairemont has come to Spain to claim her inheritance. Unfortunately that means spending time with the Duque Vidal y Salvadores – and the darkly handsome Spaniard has always made it plain how little he thinks of her. The last time Vidal saw Fliss he desired and hated her with equal measure. But now honour demands he must help her. As the truth about Fliss's family comes flooding out, and the power of their attraction takes hold, can Vidal admit how wrong he's been about her…?Behind Palace Doors by Jules BennettTheir marriage has all the makings of a romantic movie: a beautiful Mediterranean setting, a handsome prince and fantastic sex – and it's all fake!When Prince Stefan weds Victoria, the marriage is only to secure his crown. But it doesn't take long for buried passions to erupt…
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One Summer at the Castle
Stay Through the Night
Anne Mather
A Stormy Spanish Summer
Penny Jordan
Behind Palace Doors
Jules Bennett
Table of Contents
IT WAS COLD. Much colder than Rosa had expected, actually. When she’d arrived the night before, she’d put the cold down to the drizzling rain, to her own feelings of anxiety and apprehension. But this morning, after a reasonably good night’s rest and a bowl of Scottish porridge for breakfast, she didn’t have any excuses.
Where was the heatwave that was supposed to sweep all of the UK through July and August? Not here in Mallaig, that was definite, and Rosa glanced back at the cosy lounge of the bed and breakfast where she’d spent the night with real regret.
Of course part of that unwillingness to part with familiar things was the knowledge that in the next few hours she was going to be stepping into totally unknown territory. An island, some two hours off the coast of Scotland, was not like visiting some local estate. That was why she was here in Mallaig, which was the ferry port for the Western Isles. In an hour she’d be boarding the boat—ship?—that would take her to Kilfoil, and she still didn’t know if that was where Sophie was.
Fortunately, she’d brought some warm clothes with her, and this morning she had layered herself with a vest, a shirt and a woollen sweater. Feeling the chill wind blowing off the water, she guessed she’d have to wear her cashmere jacket as well for the crossing to the island. She just wished she’d packed her leather coat. It was longer and would have kept her legs warm.
Still, at least it was fine, and she could survive for two hours, she told herself, leaving the guesthouse behind and walking down the narrow main street to the docks. Crossing the already busy car parking area, she went to the end of the jetty, wrapping her arms about herself as she gazed out over the water.
For all it was cold, the view was outstandingly beautiful. The island of Skye was just a short distance away, and she wondered if those purple-tipped mountains she could see were the famous Cuillins. She didn’t know. In fact she knew very little about this part of Scotland. Despite the fact that her grandfather Ferrara had been imprisoned near Edinburgh during the war, she had never been farther north than Glasgow. She did have aunts and uncles and cousins there, but her visits had been few and far between.
Now, she realised she should have been more adventurous when she had the chance. But she’d gone to college in England, married an English boy and lived in Yorkshire for most of her life to date. It was easy to make the excuse that she hadn’t ventured very far because of her widowed mother and younger sister. But the truth was she wasn’t an adventurous sort of person, and Colin had always been happiest spending holidays in Spain, where he could get a tan.
Of course she couldn’t make Colin an excuse any longer. Three years ago, when she’d discovered he’d been cheating on her with his boss’s secretary, Rosa hadn’t hesitated before asking for a divorce. Colin had begged her to reconsider, had said that she couldn’t destroy five years of marriage over one solitary lapse. But Rosa knew it hadn’t only been a solitary lapse. It wasn’t the first time she’d suspected him of seeing someone else, and she doubted it would be the last.
Fortunately—or unfortunately, as far as Rosa was concerned—they’d had no children to be hurt by the break-up. Rosa didn’t know if it was her fault or Colin’s, but she’d never been pregnant. Of course during the turmoil of the divorce Colin had blamed her for his unfaithfulness. If she’d spent more time with him, he said, and less at that damn school with kids who didn’t appreciate her, their marriage might have stood a chance. But Rosa knew that was only an excuse. Without her salary as an English teacher Colin would not have been able to afford the frequent trips to the continent that he so enjoyed.
Anyway, it was all in the past now, she thought ruefully. And, although sometimes the things Colin had done still hurt a little, on the whole she was getting on with her life. That was until the phone call yesterday morning that had brought her on this possibly wild goose chase to Kilfoil. But her mother had been desperate, and frantic with worry, and Rosa had known she had no choice but to do as she wished.
She sighed, resting her hands on the bars of the railings, staring out across the water as if the view might provide the answers she sought. What if her mother was wrong? What if Sophie wasn’t on the island? Would there be some kind of inn or hostelry there where she could spend the night until the ferry returned the following day?
