Roarke's Kingdom
Roarke drew her head down to his shoulder. “You’re tired,” he said softly. “Why don’t you close your eyes and rest until we land?”
She sighed as she curved her body into the comforting warmth of his and tried not to think of what waited just ahead.
But, all too soon, the lights of Isla de la Pantera rose on the horizon.
* * *
Alexandra Campbell was everything Jennifer had imagined.
Tall, slender, elegantly dressed in a pale gold outfit the same shade as the stylishly cut hair that framed her high-cheekboned face, she was a Vogue fashion model come to life.
She came down the wide staircase just as Jennifer and Roarke stepped through the front door, arms outstretched, looking for all the world as if this were her home and she was welcoming guests into it.
She gave Jennifer one swift, cold glance, and then she turned all her attention on Roarke.
“Darling,” she said huskily, “it’s so good to see you again.”
Roarke’s face was expressionless.
“What are you doing here?” he said in a flat voice.
Alexandra smiled coyly as she moved toward him. “Is that all the greeting I get after such a long time?” She rose on tiptoe and wound her slender arms around his neck. “Hello, darling,” she said softly.
Roarke grabbed her wrists, pulled her arms down and stepped back.
“I’ll ask again. What are you doing here?”
Jennifer looked from her lover to his former wife.
“I—I’ll just check on Susanna. You and—and your wife have things to discuss…”
“My ex-wife,” he said coldly. He wound his arm around Jennifer’s waist. “I’ll ask you again, Alexandra. What do you want?”
The lovely face twisted into a pout. “Must a woman have a reason for paying a visit to her husband and child?” Her gaze swept to Jennifer, and suddenly the violet eyes gleamed with malice. “Who’s your little friend, darling? It’s dreadfully rude not to introduce us.”
Roarke said nothing.
Alexandra tossed her head.
“Very well. If you won’t make the proper introductions, I’ll do it myself.” Her lips lifted in a bright, false smile and she held out a scarlet-tipped hand rimmed with heavy gold bangles. “How do you do? I’m Alexandra Campbell. And you are…?”
Jennifer’s heart thudded. My name is Jennifer Winters, she wanted to say, I’m the woman whose child you—
But she couldn’t; God, she couldn’t, not with Roarke standing beside her.
“I’m Jennifer Hamilton,” she said, ignoring the outstretched hand. “Susanna’s nanny.”
The violet eyes went flat. “What a charming word,” she purred. “It has such an old-fashioned quality to it.”
Roarke’s arm dropped from Jennifer’s waist and he stepped in front of her. It was such a sweetly chivalrous, lovingly protective gesture that it brought a lump to her throat.
“For the last time,” he said, “why did you come here?”
The blonde’s voice chilled. “I already gave you my answer. I came to see my daughter.”
“Your daughter?” He laughed. “It’s a little late to start thinking of Susanna as your daughter, don’t you think?”
Alexandra smiled like a cat contemplating a dish of cream. “It’s not a matter of thinking, it’s a matter of fact. Susanna is as much mine as she is yours, although we both know how hard you try to pretend otherwise.”