Private Lives

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said.

“Kiss me, sweetheart.”

He had never addressed her with such an endearment. Did he mean it? She gazed into his eyes, exposing her vulnerability. His fingers, warm, strong and masculine, worked their magic on her bare back and arms, sending tremors through her. They set her on fire wherever he touched.

She knew she was out of her league, and that he would expect more than she knew how to give. Her lips trembled when she said, “I’m not sophisticated, Brock. I only look as if I am. You…you can teach me what every woman longs to know and feel, because it’s never been mine.”

She tensed when he sucked in his breath, but he tightened his hold on her and whispered, “Do you want me to teach you?”

“Yes. Oh, yes. I do. I do.”

is a national bestselling author of twenty-three romance novels and novellas. She has also written four novels and a novella of general fiction. Gwynne has worked as a journalist, a university professor and as a senior officer for the United Nations. She holds B.A. and M.A. degrees in sociology, and an M.A. in economics/demography.

Gwynne sings in her church choir, loves to entertain at dinner parties, is a gourmet cook and an avid gardener. She enjoys jazz, opera, classical music and the blues. A devoted museum and art-gallery visitor, Gwynne lives in New York with her husband.

Dear Reader,

I hope you’ve enjoyed this short period in the lives of Allison Sawyer and Brock Lightner. A woman and a man who, having tired of misplaced affection and ill-conceived perceptions of themselves, had decided to go it alone in the belief that having no relationship was better than the kinds of relationships they had in the past. Their struggles to deal with the possibility of true love are impeded by their unwillingness to take a chance, stubbornness and fear of the unknown—until the tide of love becomes so powerful that they haven’t the strength to resist it. I hope I’ve dealt well with these characters. I developed a particular affection for Brock, because I thought he knew how to support a woman in her endeavors without trying to make her dependent upon him—something Allison would not have tolerated.

Time was when the strong, harsh and hard hero was all the rage, but my taste is for men who have human frailties, but overcome them; who can hurt all the way to their souls and still stand strong for themselves, for their women and for their families; and who love their women above and beyond all else. I believe my hero is such a man. Let me know whether you agree.

Kimani Press is reissuing several of my early bestselling titles. Obsession, Beyond Desire and Secret Desire, all-time favorites with my readers, were the reissues for the year 2008. Swept Away, Fools Rush In and Scarlet Woman will be reissued in 2009. All of these are Kimani Arabesque titles, so keep a sharp lookout.

I love to receive mail, so don’t forget to keep my mailbox full. If you send me a self-addressed and stamped legal-size envelope, I’ll send you an autographed bookplate and information about my next release and my book-signing tours. You may write to me at P.O. Box 45, New York, New York 100044-0045. You can visit me online at www.gwynneforster.com.

My thanks for your continued support.

With best wishes,

Gwynne Forster

To my husband, whose strength and courage in the

face of personal difficulties is admirable beyond words, and for his unswerving support and the joy, the love with which he fills my life. And to my stepson, a distinguished engineer, who always finds time to install/explain/repair his parents’ computers, printers, phones and other gadgets, to brighten our lives in other ways and to travel several hundred miles in order to do it. No woman has a more loving and supportive husband and son. As always, I thank God for my talents and for the opportunities to use them.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

So this was it! Allison Sawyer parked in front of the rustic-looking log cabin, turned off the engine and rested her head on the steering wheel of her blue Audi.

“What’s the matter, Mom?”

She put on her brightest smile and looked back at five-year-old Dudley. “Everything’s fine, son. Just fine.” She’d come to the right place. He’d never find them there. With the help of her older sister, Ellen, she hadn’t left any tracks to follow, or at least she’d hoped so. She got out, looked around and breathed deeply the Adirondack mountain air. She unlatched Dudley’s car seat, and he jumped out of the car, grabbed her hand and gazed up at her with a broad smile on his face. He loved the outdoors, and woods were all around them. She felt as if she was about to burst.