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He smiled, and pulled it from the box. “I had it remade as a pendant for a necklace.” He slipped it over her head, and it fell just between her breasts. “I thought this way you could keep our first marriage close to your heart. And wear it with this one.” He fingered the diamond she always wore; the diamond that reminded him of the baby she’d lost.
Jane’s eyes locked with his.
“I know it might seem foolish, but our first marriage is still a good memory for me. It is the reason we’re here now. I don’t want you to forget that time in our lives.”
Tears sprung to Jane’s eyes and she glared at him with an imitation of hostility. “My hormones are all over the place. You can’t be this sweet, Carlo!”
He grinned. “I take it that means you like it?”
“Like it? I love it.” She looked up at him with total wonderment. “And I love you.”
“And you are still my life, my soul, my universe and my all. For all time.”
THE END
Following is an excerpt from another Clare Connelly novel: Marrying her Enemy. It’s available to purchase or hire through the Kindle Lending Library here.
MARRYING HER ENEMY
Clare Connelly
All the characters in this book are fictitious and have no existence outside the author’s imagination. They have no relation to anyone bearing the same name or names and are pure invention.
All rights reserved. The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reprinted by any means without permission of the Author.
The illustration on the cover of this book features model/s and bears no relation to the characters described within.
First published 2014
(c) Clare Connelly
Photo Credit: dollarphotoclub.com/Viorel Sima
Contact Clare:
http://www.clareconnelly.co.uk
Blog: http://clarewriteslove.wordpress.com/
Email: [email protected]
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Join Clare’s Newsletter to stay up to date on all the latest CC news. http://www.clareconnelly.co.uk/subscribe.html
“Hear my soul speak:
The very instant that I saw you, did
My heart fly to your service.”
-William Shakespeare
CHAPTER ONE
Luca Abramo would have given his eyeteeth to be anywhere else.
The painfully chic art gallery was filled to overflowing with the crème de la crème of London’s society. Women so thin they looked like a breeze could snap them in two, dripping with diamonds and couture; men in tuxedos and double bow ties, with styled hair and an air of self-importance that sat ill on Luca’s broad shoulders. The scent of expensive canapés permeated the
