A
Wicked Truth
Cady
Delafield Series
Book
Three
Joyce
Proell
Genre:
Mystery/romance
Publisher:
Champagne Books
Date
of Publication: September 7, 2015
ISBN
978-1-77155-034-5
Number
of pages: 284
Word
Count: 93254
Cover
Artist: Ellie Smith
Book
Description:
The
wedding date is set, and life is magical for Doyle Flanagan and Cady
Delafield. Yet trouble has a way of finding these two. Honor bound to
repay an old debt, Doyle agrees to help a friend find her sister. As
he searches for the girl, painful memories surface, stunning Cady
when she discovers facts about Doyle’s hidden past.
In
spite of incredible odds, Cady and Doyle’s love has flourished. Now
mired in tragedy and secrets, their happiness is in jeopardy. Their
wits are put to the test when catastrophe strikes close to home
threatening those Cady loves the most. Can they overcome the turmoil
with a fateful decision that will change their future forever?
Excerpt:
Thursday
“Ummmm.” Eyes
closed, Cady Delafield savored the velvety concoction on her tongue.
A hint of orange added a sublime touch to the chocolate mousse.
“I
take it you approve.” Doyle’s voice skated over her skin as
smooth as the creamy dessert.
Smiling,
she looked at him across the table, beyond a low centerpiece of white
flowers embedded in forest greens. Dressed in eveningwear as black as
the lustrous hair on his head, he lounged against the padded brocade
chair, the perfect image of strength and elegance. One arm draped
casually over the linen tablecloth, while tapered fingers stroked the
stem of a wine glass in a languid manner. The tempo reminded her of
his caress to her neck when they’d ridden to the restaurant. In the
carriage, the light had been dim, seductive, and the subtle pressure
of his thumb against her nerve points divine. She wanted to moan
again from sheer delight.
At
other times, she wanted to pinch herself awake from this incredible
dream and face reality. It seemed unbelievable a man such as Doyle,
robust and attractive, a self-made millionaire and just dangerous
enough to keep her on the edge of her seat, chose her to love. Yet
time and again, he’d told her so. If she’d learned anything from
their brief time together, it was to trust his word.
Her
smile widened.
“Mousse?
I adore it.” Her breathy tone had an immediate effect upon him. His
blue eyes darkened with lust, stirring a delectable heated
reaction.“I’ll have to get the recipe and make it every day.”
She laughed lightly. “But then I’d get dreadfully plump.”
“You?”
He canted his head. In the mellow glow of the table lamp, he gleamed,
igniting an urge to stroke his tawny skin. “No need to worry.
Should you ever get fat, there’ll be more of you to love.”
“Ha!”
Their laughter peeled against the drone of other diners and the sweet
music of a string quartet lodged in a far corner. How wonderful to
laugh, she realized, pleased her malaise of the past few months had
lifted.
Beneath
his watchful gaze, her blood flamed. How could one man hold such
power over her? Quivery fingers itched to stroke every inch of his
magnificent body. Alone in her bed at night, she could scarcely sleep
for the sheer want of his touch. Yet between them, he was the one who
had shown restraint, who had kept her from indulging her deepest
passions.
As
wonderful as the dessert tasted, Doyle represented a much greater
temptation. It would require a great deal of discipline, perhaps more
than she possessed, to keep her hands to herself. Yet Doyle,
traditional, respectful and stubborn, intended to delay their sexual
completion until their wedding night. Could she do it? She had her
doubts.
She
took one more bite then settled the spoon on the gold-trimmed dish,
thinking she was the most fortunate of women. “To love and be loved
is such a heady experience, don’t you agree?”
He
answered with a smile that wrapped about her shoulders like a warm
blanket on a wintry eve.
“Doesn’t
it strike you as amazing such an outspoken administrator for a
women’s vocational school, a progressive thinker and
non-conformist, and a woman inclined to impulsive actions, should
have attracted a man like you?”
At
twenty-four-years old, an age many considered the portal to
spinsterhood, she’d given up dreams of love and marriage. Important
needs, such as earning an income, had consumed her time. Then along
came Doyle and everything changed.
His
strong brow pulled in question.
“It’s
not as if I’m unfit to love,” she rushed to add. “Although
there is my horrid temper.” A temper which often got the best of
her.
He
studied her carefully. “I like a woman who doesn’t hold anything
back.”
At
the seductive implication, her breath stalled. “Then it’s
fortunate for you I’m so outspoken.”
Overhead,
electrical light transmitted through stained glass in the ceiling. It
cast a mixture of colorful tones, which had the effect of giving his
skin a tanned look, as if he’d spent days in the sun. The effect
softened the strong angles of his chin and muted the thin scar that
sliced through one eyebrow.
“Tell
me, Cady. Do you possess everything your heart desires?”
How
like him to be curious about her wishes and dreams. “I have your
love, don’t I? What more could I ask?”
He
squeezed her hand. “There’s one more thing you ought to have.”
Cady
startled when one of the doors to the morgue flew open with a
scraping squeak. Jack passed through, looking grave in the poorly lit
corridor. Doyle followed, grim lines carved in his face.
“Doyle!”
Arms outstretched, she jumped up and ran to him. Engulfed in his
strong arms, he gave a glancing kiss to her temple. Caustic smells of
the morgue clung to him.
“It’s
her, Sarah Jenkins,” he whispered at her ear.
Filled
with regret, she closed her eyes, absorbing the shock. “Oh, no. I
had so hoped the outcome would be different.”
“As
did I.”
Holding
him close, she derived reassurance from his steadiness. Still, there
was no mistaking the deep weariness that weighted his spirit.
He
gripped her about the upper arms and set her away. Studying his
pained face, she realized it wasn’t she who needed comforting so
much as him. “You look torn at the seams, Doyle. I’m so sorry.”
“I
am, too.” He took her hand. “Let’s get away from here.”
Silent,
except for their footfalls, they walked side by side, following Jack
up through the maze of corridors and stairs, stopping only when they
reached the front doors of the police station. They spoke a few words
to Jack, promising to meet again and said good-bye.
From
experience, Cady knew the identification of a body, even one of a
stranger, was a difficult and unpleasant experience. Yet a pale and
shaken Doyle surprised her. Even in the worst of times, he acted so
confident and handled life’s difficulties with strength and
boundless determination. So what was different about today?
About
the Author:
Joyce
grew up in Minnesota and attended college and grad school in Chicago.
After working in mental health, she retired at a young age to write
full-time. Her first book, Eliza, was published in 2012. A Wicked
Truth is the third book in the Cady Delafield series. When she isn’t
writing mysteries or historical romances, she loves to swim, walk and
is a crossword puzzle fanatic. She and her husband live in Florida
and Minnesota, in her very own little house on the prairie.
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