So this happened over at the Mills and Boon site this week:
I dropped by to see if The Marriage He Must Keep was available on the Mills and Boon site and was *stoked* to discover it sitting in the #1 spot! Of course, look at Sandro! So sexy, right? (In both versions of the covers! Wait until you read him!)
The Marriage He Must Claim is Book One in my baby swap duet called The Wrong Heirs. If you belong to my newsletter, you have probably already downloaded the first two chapters for this and the second book, The Consequence He Must Claim. (Membership has its benefits! Join here! (You get a free ebook just for signing up!)
For those of you who haven't joined, the first chapter of Book One is here...
First, here's the North American cover and blurb:
Claiming his heir
When Alessandro Ferrante dutifully married shy
heiress Octavia, it was a pleasant surprise to discover that his convenient
bride was as sweetly sensual as she was beautiful. But when their newborn baby
is swapped at the hospital, their fragile marriage reaches crisis point.
…and his wife!
With her baby safely back in her arms, the
revelation that Alessandro's family was involved leaves Octavia wanting nothing
more to do with him. But Alessandro won't take no for an answer…after all, in
the bedroom she always said yes! He will seduce his wife again and ensure
Octavia—and his child—are his forever!
CHAPTER ONE
Another knifing pain speared into her
lower back, radiating like a spiked belt around her middle and clenching her
torso in a merciless fist that stole her breath.
“Please call Alessandro,” Octavia
Ferrante begged in a pant, knotting her fists in the blanket beneath her as she
braced herself for the next contraction. She was starting to fear that
something would happen and she would never hear his voice again.
Her husband’s cousin, Primo
Ferrante, only sighed. His hold on the curtain dropped with disinterest as he
turned away from the window. “I told you. He said he would come if the baby is
born alive. Otherwise he’s not going to put himself out.”
She didn’t want to believe it.
Primo seemed to draw more enjoyment daily from tormenting her. She no longer
trusted him and was sure this was more of his games.
But after this many months of
being exiled to London by her husband, she was beginning to believe at least
some of what Primo said. He was certainly correct in labeling her soft in the
head. She’d let her life spiral beyond her grip. Pregnancy was an odd state,
making you feel vulnerable in tiny degrees so you didn’t realize how
defenseless you were until the need to fight arose and there was nothing to draw
on. She had insulated herself here, licking her wounds over Alessandro’s
rejection, and suddenly she had no resources. No one to help her.
Rebellion had backfired on her in
the past so she rarely dissented, but she’d never been weak. At one
time she’d been confident in herself, at least, if not truly assertive. She’d
even felt a certain pride in those first few weeks of her marriage—
Another pain tore through her,
making her grit her teeth to hold back a scream.
Alessandro, she silently begged, as a fresh wave of perspiration rose to ice
her skin. But she knew all about men who wanted live births of their sons.
Maybe Primo was telling the truth about her husband’s lack of concern.
Call my mother then, she almost said as another pain gripped her, but her mother was
also in Italy and would have even less sympathy. Eight times she’d gone through
this. Seven of them fruitless labors. Eight, really, since Octavia was hardly
counted as a valid heir.
Female. Only good for one thing.
This.
Octavia had lived in fear all her
life that she would suffer as her mother had, losing babies before she could
deliver them. For good reason, apparently. This was not the idealistic, natural
process the books promised. This was torture. The baby was coming a month too
early, and the pain was terrifying. Something was wrong. She knew it.
“Where is the ambulance?” she
cried as the pain throttled back enough that she could catch her breath and
speak. “The clinic said to call one as soon as I went into labor. Did you do it?”
“You’re being hysterical. These
things take hours. You know that,” Primo muttered.
He had said he would, but she
would bet her life that he hadn’t.
“Give me the phone,” she
demanded, holding out her hand. Why was he even here? Why wasn’t her husband?
Her pains were coming on top of
themselves. She had to wrap her arm across her swollen middle, fearful her skin
would split under the stress.
“Please, Primo. I’m begging you.
Take me to the hospital.”
“You’re an embarrassment to our
family name,” he said, sneering at her rumpled, sweaty form and tear-streaked
face. “Where is all this pride in duty you once told me you had? Show some
dignity.”
His cruel words, delivered by a
cruel man whom she hated with all her being, still had the power to wound.
Because Alessandro had left her to this. Each time Primo verbally flayed her,
she felt it as an uncaring swipe from Alessandro, like batting a fly. She had
been his toy, perhaps, because he’d seemed so taken with her in those early
days, but now she was nothing to him. Utterly forgotten. His indifference was a
body blow every time she confronted it.
As anguished and defeated as that
made her feel, she wasn’t about to give birth on her bed, risking her baby’s
life and her own. Inching to the edge of the mattress, she braced herself on
the night table, begging her knees to hold her. She’d crawl out of this room if
she had to. Primo might wish her dead, but she wasn’t going quietly.
“Is that blood?” Primo demanded
sharply. His hawk-like gaze swooped from her tense face to the spotted blanket
and back. His complexion grayed.
As she looked at the small mark,
what little body heat remained in her drained from her face and chest and
limbs. This was it, then. Like her mother, she was doomed to lose her baby. If
she survived, this would happen again and again as she tried to live up to her
side of the marital contract. Why, oh, why had she thought going through with
an arranged marriage would finally earn her some respect from her father? Why
had she let herself begin to care for her husband, hoping to earn his
affection?
Why had she opened her heart and
taken this unborn infant deep inside it, believing that finally there would be
a human on this earth who loved her back?
No one was ever going to love
her. She was the only person she could rely on. It was time to face that.
With a sob, she staggered across to
where he’d left her phone on the windowsill and snatched it up. Bowing her head
against the wall, silently praying, she dialed the number for emergency
services and told them to send an ambulance.
*
Alessandro Ferrante saw his wife was
calling and his pulse tripped. He immediately tamped down on the involuntary
reaction, ruthlessly regaining control over himself and annoyed that he let her
catch him so easily, even when she was on the other side of the continent.
But some measure of surprise was
legitimate. She never called him anymore.
Which he was trying not to let
bother him.
“Cara,” he
answered, ears straining for clues as to why she was calling now. It was late
in London, even later here in Naples, but apparently they were both still up.
Perhaps the baby was kicking. She had said a few times that she had trouble
sleeping through that. It had made him feel the distance between them quite
keenly…
He ignored the stab of something
that might have been regret. The separation was necessary. He wouldn’t give in
to weak yearnings and wind up putting her in danger. That would be
irresponsible.
“Sono io,”
Primo said into his ear. It’s me.
Not Octavia then. Disappointment
fell through him before he could deflect it. He habitually fought extreme
degrees of emotion, never allowing them to rule his actions, but this marriage
was becoming so very much not a marriage and it was beginning to
frustrate him. It had started with such promise. They had had a remarkable
compatibility, particularly in bed, but it had disintegrated into something he
didn’t know what to do with anymore.
Not for the first time, he
questioned his decision to leave her in London, but all the facts remained the
same: she was pregnant and at risk. Her mother had a history of losing babies.
His mother’s house in London was in the same city as a world-class specialist
clinic, one that had been monitoring her closely. She was also safe from the
threats here in Naples. His refusal to bring her home was absolutely the best
thing for her and their unborn child.
His wife had taken to avoiding
his calls, however. His cousin made all her reports, which was an intrusion
Alessandro didn’t appreciate. Why was Primo even still at his mother’s house?
How long did it take to get an apartment painted these days?
“Si?”
Alessandro prompted his cousin now, tone sharpening with dismay.
“She’s gone into labor,” Primo
said bluntly.
Alessandro sat up, arteries
stinging with an immediate shot of adrenaline, the desk full of work before him
forgotten. This was too early. Almost a month before her due date. He had
planned to fly out next week. He reached for his tablet, already tapping out a
message to his driver and pilot.
“It all happened very quickly or
I would have called you sooner,” Primo continued. “The ambulance was delayed
and—well, there have been complications.”
Silence followed.
Alessandro waited.
A knife of dread went through
him, impossible to dodge. Primo liked to frame things in as much drama as possible.
Sandro had talked to him about it more than once, told him that it only
exacerbated situations, but Primo loved to grab and hold attention.
This wasn’t
the time.
Unless Primo was truly reluctant
to deliver bad news.
Alessandro could hear the ticking
of the clock that had been in his family for generations—tick, tick, tick.
Like a bomb. He couldn’t breathe. He was paralyzed, completely devoid of
feeling and his mind was empty as he held off what he feared would be a repeat
of another moment when tragedy unfolded. When tires screeched and—
“Yes?” he prompted, throat raspy
and thick.
“They had to take her to the
nearest hospital, not the one where she was scheduled to deliver. It’s inundated
with a bus crash, but they’re taking her for surgery right now.”
His nerves exploded with a rush
of urgency, barely rational.
“Which hospital?” Alessandro
demanded, fighting a ferocious grip of emotion that wanted to overstep reason
and break down doors and walls and laws of man and nature to reach London. He
grappled to stay calm, forcing himself to speak clearly even as his mind and
heart raced. “I’m leaving now. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
The Marriage He Must Keep is available now from Mills and Boon or you can pre-order here:
ook Two is up for grabs over here at Goodreads:
Goodreads Book Giveaway
The Consequence He Must Claim
by Dani Collins
Giveaway ends December 15, 2015.
See the giveaway details at Goodreads.
See the giveaway details at Goodreads.
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