Angel

In a funny sort of way, Johnny was relieved to…

Thirty-Four

It seemed to Rosie that Johnny Fortune had taken possession…

Thirty-Five

Johnny was waiting for her in her suite at the…

Thirty-Six

An hour later Rosie stood to attention in front of…

Thirty-Seven

Morning sunlight streamed in through the huge plate-glass windows. It…

Thirty-Eight

Henri de Montfleurie had never presumed to understand women, finding…

Thirty-Nine

Vito Carmello was so pleased he could not keep the…

Forty

Rosie felt a wave of nausea sweep over her and…

Forty-One

Gavin Ambrose sat on the sofa in the sitting room…

Forty-Two

On Monday morning Rosie and Gavin went straight from JFK…

Forty-Three

Rosie knew that Johnny was in Manhattan.

Forty-Four

Johnny was devastated.

Part Four Truest Loves

Forty-Five

‘When I get out of here, we can go on…

Forty-Six

Rosie did not notice that they had passed Trump Tower…

About the Author

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PART ONE

ONE

She stood near one of the huge stone pillars, a little to one side in the shadows, watching the fight.

The woman, whose name was Rosalind Madigan, was taut with nerves. Her hands were clenched at her sides and she held her breath; then her lips parted slightly in anticipation and anxiety surfaced in her eyes.

Metal struck metal as swords clashed.

The warriors battled on. They were fencing to the death; she knew there could be only one winner.

Brilliant light, penetrating the windows set high in the castle walls, glanced off their swift and lethal swords. Gavin, the smaller of the two, was slender, supple and fleet of foot. He went on the offensive, moving with great speed, his rapier thrusting forward dangerously. He drove his opponent back…farther back across the stone floor of the vast Great Hall. Suddenly he had the advantage.

James, the other knight, taller, broader, more cumbersome of body, was now pinioned in a corner, his back pressed close to the wall, a mixture of fury and fear blanching his face.

To the woman, it seemed that the fight would be over sooner than she had anticipated. It was perfectly obvious to her that Gavin was about to triumph. Then, much to her amazement, James managed, somehow, to shift his stance, ever so slightly but just enough to manoeuvre his bulk into a new position. Unexpectedly, he lunged forward purposefully, and she sucked in her breath. He now had the advantage.

Gavin, somewhat taken by surprise, was thrown into a defensive position. Surely this was not the way it was meant to be, she thought, and leaned forward, her eyes riveted on the two men.

Gavin moved backward swiftly, and with his usual dexterity, as nimble as a dancer, he parried James’s thrusts with immense skill and strength.

James went on lunging after him, breathing heavily, brandishing his sword with equal expertise, but he was not quite as light on his feet as Gavin.

The two men were moving into the centre of the baronial hall, fencing feverishly. Attack. Parry. Attack. Parry. James had begun to pant excessively, his movements slowing. Gavin was gaining ground once more. He was on the offensive, in superb control, moving in for the kill.

James stumbled and went down, his sword clattering across the stone floor, out of reach.

In a flash Gavin was by his side, standing over James, the point of his sword resting close to the other knight’s throat.

Their eyes locked in an intense and powerful gaze. Neither one could look away.

‘Kill me then, and be done with it!’ James cried out at last.

‘I do not choose to soil my sword with your blood,’ Gavin intoned coldly but in the softest of voices. ‘Suffice it that I have won this last, and final, fight. Now it is truly finished between us. Be gone from these parts, return on fear of death.’

Taking several steps backward, he sheathed his sword in the scabbard that hung from the belt around his waist, walked across the floor and up the wide staircase without a backward glance. Only when he reached the top of the stairs did he briefly look down at James before disappearing into the shadows.