LS02 - Lightning Lingers (34 page)

* * *

"Finally, we're alone," Jake joked.

Katherine smiled up at him. "We've been alone a lot the last two months."

"Not enough for me. I know you wanted to bond with your mom and TJ again, but I have a proposition for you."

"Oh, really?"

He turned to face her, resting his hands on her waist as he gazed into her eyes. Her heart pounded against her chest. "Kat?"

"Yes?"

"I want to live with you."

She nodded, feeling a little let down. He'd been saying that for weeks. "I know. We're going to get a place. I told you that."

"I don't want to just share an apartment." He let go of her waist and dropped to one knee, reaching into his pocket as he did so.

"What are you doing?" she asked breathlessly.

"I think you know." He opened the velvet box to reveal a beautiful diamond ring.

"Oh, Jake." Her eyes blurred with tears.

"Don't start crying yet. I have to ask you a question."

"You better hurry."

He laughed. "I love you, Katherine Barrett, and I want you to marry me. What do you say?"

"I say yes." She looked into his eyes with so much love in her heart she felt like she could float up to the ceiling. "Yes," she repeated. "I'll marry you, and I'll love you for the rest of my life."

"And beyond," he said.

"And beyond," she echoed. "I didn't know you were going to do this now," she added, as he slipped the ring onto her finger.

"It's your Christmas present."

"Really? That's too bad."

"Why?"

"Because I just got you a shirt."

He laughed. "It better make me look hot."

"You look hot without a shirt," she said, leaning over to give him a kiss.

"What's this?" Alicia asked, as she and Dani walked back into the room. "Jake is on his knees."

"Oh, my God," Dani said. Then she turned and yelled, "Mom, get out here."

Soon everyone was crowding around, admiring her ring, giving her hugs and welcoming her to the family.

It was the happiest day of her life, made even happier when her mom put her arms around her and told her that she couldn't wait to see her get married to the man she'd loved since she was sixteen years old.

"I can't wait for that, either," she said.

"He asked my permission, you know," her mom added.

"You did?" she asked Jake, as he put his arm around her.

"Absolutely. She asked me what took me so long. I had to grow up first so I could be worthy of you. It took me a while."

"It took me a while to be worthy of you," she said. "But we made it."

"And we're always going to be there for each other."

"Always," she promised. As the party moved back into the kitchen, leaving them alone once again, she added, "I like my ring. It's perfect."

"I'm glad. I was going to ask for some sisterly advice, but decided to wing it on my own."

"You know what I like," she said, gazing into his eyes. "You know me better than I know myself."

"And you know me, beautiful Kat."

"We're going to be happy, Jake."

"So happy. Let's start right now," he said, as he lovingly touched his mouth to hers.

# # #

Don't miss the exciting conclusion of the Lightning Strikes Trilogy with Danielle's story in SUMMER RAIN. Coming in August of 2016.

Dear Reader,

I hope you enjoyed the second book in the Lightning Strikes Trilogy. I loved researching Mexico and Mayan legends and hope you enjoyed Jake and Katherine's romantic adventure. And watch for Danielle's story in Summer Rain, coming August 2016.

In addition to bringing you the final book in the trilogy, I'm also continuing my popular family series: The Callaways. Tender Is The Night will be released in March of 2016! If you haven't yet started this popular series, I hope you'll check it out. The first book is
ON A NIGHT LIKE THIS
.

Don't want to miss any of my new releases or book news, please sign up for my
newsletter
! I also chat in a private Facebook group with my superfans. If you'd like to join the street team,
click here
.

I'm also including an excerpt from one of my most popular romantic suspense standalone novels,
DON’T SAY A WORD
. Hope you'll check it out!

Until next time, happy reading!

Barbara

Excerpt from DON’T SAY A WORD

By Barbara Freethy

© Copyright 2011 Barbara Freethy

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED (V3)

Prologue

25 years earlier

She took her bow with the other dancers, tears pressing against her lids, but she couldn't let those tears slip down her cheeks. No one could know that this night was different from any other. Too many people were watching her.

As the curtain came down one last time, she ran off the stage into the arms of her husband, her lover, the man with whom she would take the greatest risk of her life.

He met the question in her eyes with a reassuring smile.

She wanted to ask if it was all arranged, if the plan was in motion, but she knew it would be unwise to speak. She would end this evening as she had ended all those before it. She went into her dressing room and changed out of her costume. When she was dressed, she said good night to some of the other dancers as she walked toward the exit, careful to keep her voice casual, as if she had not a care in the world. When she and her husband got into their automobile, they remained silent, knowing that the car might be bugged.

It was a short drive to their home. She would miss her house, the garden in the back, the bedroom where she'd made love to her husband, and the nursery, where she'd rocked...

No. She couldn't think of that. It was too painful. She had to concentrate on the future when they could finally be free. Her house, her life, everything that she possessed came with strings that were tightening around her neck like a noose, suffocating her with each passing day. It wasn't herself she feared for the most, but her family, her husband, who even now was being forced to do unconscionable things. They could no longer live a life of secrets.

Her husband took her hand as they walked up to the front door. He slipped his key into the lock and the door swung open. She heard a small click, and horror registered in her mind. She saw the shocked recognition in her husband's eyes, but it was too late. They were about to die, and they both knew it. Someone had betrayed them.

She prayed for the safety of those she had left behind as an explosion of fire lit up the night, consuming all their dreams with one powerful roar.

Chapter One

Present Day...

Julia DeMarco felt a shiver run down her spine as she stood high on a bluff overlooking the Golden Gate Bridge. It was a beautiful, sunny day in early September, and with the Pacific Ocean on one side of the bridge and the San Francisco Bay on the other, the view was breathtaking. She felt like she was on the verge of something exciting and wonderful, just the way every bride should feel. But as she took a deep breath of the fresh, somewhat salty air, her eyes began to water. She told herself the tears had more to do with the afternoon wind than the sadness she'd been wrestling with since her mother had passed away six months ago. This was supposed to be a happy time, a day for looking ahead, not behind. She just wished she felt confident instead of... uncertain.

A pair of arms came around her waist, and she leaned back against the solid chest of her fiancé, Michael Graffino. It seemed as if she'd done nothing but lean on Michael the past year. Most men wouldn't have stuck around, but he had. Now it was time to give him what he wanted, a wedding date. She didn't know why she was hesitating, except that so many things were changing in her life. Since Michael had proposed to her a year ago, her mother had died, her stepfather had put the family home up for sale, and her younger sister had moved in with her. A part of her just wanted to stop, take a few breaths, and think for a while instead of rushing headlong into another life-changing event. But Michael was pushing for a date, and she was grateful to him for sticking by her, so how could she say no? And why would she want to?

Michael was a good man. Her mother had adored him. Julia could still remember the night she'd told her mom about the engagement. Sarah DeMarco hadn't been out of bed in days, and she hadn't smiled in many weeks, but that night she'd beamed from ear to ear. The knowledge that her oldest daughter was settling down with the son of one of her best friends had made her last days so much easier.

"We should go, Julia. It's time to meet the event coordinator."

She turned to face him, thinking again what a nice-looking man he was with his light brown hair, brown eyes, and a warm, ready smile. The olive skin of his Italian heritage and the fact that he spent most of his days out on the water, running a charter boat service off Fisherman's Wharf, kept his skin a dark, sunburned red.

"What's wrong?" he asked, a curious glint in his eye. "You're staring at me."

"Was I? I'm sorry."

"Don't be." He paused, then said, "It's been a while since you've really looked at me."

"I don't think that's true. I look at you all the time. So do half the women in San Francisco," she added.

"Yeah, right," he muttered. "Let's go."

Julia cast one last look at the view, then followed Michael to the museum. The Palace of the Legion of Honor had been built as a replica of the Palais de la Legion d'Honneur in Paris. In the front courtyard, known as the Court of Honor, was one of Rodin's most famous sculptures,
The Thinker
. Julia would have liked to stop and ponder the statue as well as the rest of her life, but Michael was a man on a mission, and he urged her toward the front doors.

As they entered the museum, her step faltered. In a few moments, they would sit down with Monica Harvey, the museum's event coordinator, and Julia would have to pick her wedding date. She shouldn't be nervous. It wasn't as if she were a young girl; she was twenty-eight years old. It was time to get married, have a family.

"Liz was right. This place is cool," Michael said.

Julia nodded in agreement. Her younger sister Liz had been the one to suggest the museum. It was a pricey location, but Julia had inherited some money from her mother that would pay for most of the wedding.

"The offices are downstairs," Michael added. "Let's go."

Julia drew in a deep breath as the moment of truth came rushing toward her. "I need to stop in the restroom. Why don't you go ahead? I'll be right there."

When Michael left, Julia walked over to get a drink of water from a nearby fountain. She was sweating and her heart was practically jumping out of her chest. What on earth was the matter with her? She'd never felt so panicky in her life.

It was all the changes, she told herself again. Her emotions were too close to the surface. But she could do this. They were only picking a date. She wasn't going to say "I do" this afternoon. That would be months from now, when she was ready, really ready.

Feeling better, she headed downstairs, passing by several intriguing exhibits along the way. Maybe they could stop and take a look on the way out.

"Mrs. Harvey is finishing up another appointment," Michael told her as she joined him. "She'll be about ten minutes. I need to make a call. Can you hold down the fort?"

"Sure." Julia sat down on the couch, wishing Michael hadn't left. She really needed a distraction from her nerves. As the minutes passed, she became aware of the faint sound of music coming from down the hall. The melody was lovely but sad, filled with unanswered dreams, regrets. It reminded her of a piece played on the balalaika in one of her music classes in college, and it called to her in a way she couldn't resist. Music had always been her passion. Just a quick peek, she told herself, as she got to her feet and moved into the corridor.

The sounds of the strings grew louder as she entered the room at the end of the hall. It was a tape, she realized, playing in the background, intended no doubt to complement the equally haunting historic photographs on display. Within seconds she was caught up in a journey through time. She couldn't look away. And she didn't want to look away—especially when she came to the picture of the little girl.

Captioned
The Coldest War of All,
the black-and-white photograph showed a girl of no more than three or four years old, standing behind the gate of an orphanage in Moscow. The photo had been taken by someone named Charles Manning, the same man who appeared to have taken many of the pictures in the exhibit.

Julia studied the picture in detail. She wasn't as interested in the Russian scene as she was in the girl. The child wore a heavy dark coat, pale thick stockings, and a black woolen cap over her curly blond hair. The expression in her eyes begged for someone—whoever was taking the picture, perhaps—to let her out, to set her free, to help her.