Gem

Naida Reynolds

Description

Gem Forrester enjoyed every aspect of her career in government service - until the spring of 2011, when her family disappeared. Had Gem's family become targets of her own government? Or had her family unknowingly become entangled with Nazis who had also disappeared? Nazis who had disappeared in the winter of 1945!Gem's life became a waking nightmare. She was going through Hell searching for her family. And then she met the Man of Her Dreams - the Perfect Man - Wyatt Grantham. Wyatt became her emotional refuge. And then he became her second nightmare. Gem had secrets. Secrets she couldn't share with Wyatt. Secrets he insisted he had a right to know. Gem had to admit he did have a right to know her secrets. But still she couldn't and wouldn't share what he demanded to know. Nazi, spies, and Wyatt Grantham. The combination might drive Gem to the edge of her sanity.

Sujets

• Romance

Informations

• Publié par: First Edition Design Publishing
• Date de parution: 14 février 2013
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781622872619
• Langue: English

Extrait

Gem
Naida Reynolds


First Edition Design Publishing
GEM
A novel by
Naida Reynolds

First Edition Design Publishing
GEM
Copyright ©2013 Naida Reynolds
ISBN 978-1622872-62-6 PRINT
ISBN 978-1622872-61-9EBOOK

LCCN 2013932202

January 2013

Published and Distributed by
First Edition Design Publishing, Inc.
P.O. Box 20217, Sarasota, FL 34276-3217
www.firsteditiondesignpublishing.com

Cover Art – Deborah E Gordon

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this book publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means ─ electronic, mechanical, photo-copy, recording, or any other ─ except brief quotation in reviews, without the prior permission of the author or publisher.
Chapter One
He was usually a much more observant man. He had noticed when she sat at the table next to his, but she had kept her head down, reading papers she took from a large brown portfolio. If it hadn’t been for the American tourists, he might have passed the time at the café without fully seeing her.
“Gem! Gem! Why it is you!” the taller of the two men said excitedly.
Wyatt sharpened his focus on the young woman. Gem. Perhaps! However, it was a common nickname.
Gem looked up, shading her eyes with her hand to locate the voice in the bright morning sunlight beyond the café’s canopy. As she lowered her hand, Wyatt realized the true meaning of the phrase ‘blind luck’. He hadn’t known where to begin searching for her. She travelled quite often, James had said; she could be anywhere in the world.
Wyatt saw the extraordinary deep violet eyes fringed with sooty black lashes; the luminous skin caressed by the pale green, tailored silk blouse; the crème coloured ballerina length silk skirt rustling in the breeze, revealing lovely legs. A dab of powder, a hint of lipstick; no other cosmetics were needed for this natural beauty. Her pale blonde hair, artfully woven in an intricate braid extended well past her shoulders; tendrils, tousling in the early August breeze, framed her sun-kissed cheeks.
Breathtaking! Nature had bestowed its finest artistry to her, exquisite beauty, lacking nothing - except a soul.
He had studied the photos hour after hour. He saw her in his nightmares. It was indeed her.
Gem groaned inwardly as she looked blankly at the handsome young couple.
“Hello,” she said tentatively, forcing a bright smile.
Wyatt continued to observe her. The same lovely smile- perfect straight, white teeth.
Gem set down her tea cup. She should have taken a table inside the café, but it was a shame to be indoors on such a lovely day.
“T and J-” the taller man offered.
“Tad and Jeff - remember? - San Francisco,” the other man, nearly a head shorter than his partner, filled in the unspoken questions.
Gem nodded, still smiling. “Of course, San Francisco!” Blast! When was San Francisco? Last spring? No, that was the broken arm. No, February was the broken arm. A year ago? What have I landed myself with? There’s so much I don’t know - or don’t recall. And why should I have to know everything? She usually didn’t have ‘unknown’ situations in London. London had always been her base.
“You’re in London! How lovely!” Please don’t ask me to be your guide, she sent a silent plea. But that offer would never have been suggested - she would never have made that offer! Not for London!
“Only for an hour or so,” the taller one replied. He pointed to his partner. “Tad insists on hitting every castle possible in two weeks.”
“Ah!” Gem mentally relaxed. “Where to first?”
“We’ve done the ‘Palace’,” it had to be Jeff speaking- process of elimination; he used air quotes around palace. “Off to Warwick now. Super!”
“We didn’t stop to think, couldn’t imagine bumping into you in Merry Olde England! You are always grabbing a jet, always travelling. So ubiquitous!”
“And we never did get your cell number when you were in good old S.F. Another of your whirlwind jaunts,” Jeff lightly scolded.
Gem nodded. “Of course.” They certainly wouldn’t have a mobile number. Mobile numbers were only for family. A ring at an inopportune moment might be a massive headache - a lost mobile was a scorching one, and possibly a cog that could slip. And international mobile rates were crippling. She had heard that complaint more than once or twice the past few years. - Flat numbers, perhaps, but no mobile number! No cogs that could slip!
“Well, Gem, old dear, it’s been fab!” Jeff grinned. “But we’re off to see knights in shining armour.”
“They are a dying breed these days, I believe,” she mused.
“There’s that British sense of humour we love so much, Gem!” Tad waggled a finger at her. “Hugs all around!”
She was pulled from her chair and thoroughly hugged by both men. Then more farewells and promises were extracted from her to ‘look them up’ next time she was in good old S.F.! She knew where to find them!
“Who actually says farewell?” Gem chuckled, as the lads went on their way.
“Apparently tourists from good old S.F.,” came an amused reply from the next table.
Gem turned to her left, her eyes meeting the gaze of a strikingly handsome man. His hair was lush dark, nearly black, his eyes light grey with a faint rim of blue around the irises. Wow! He could be a magazine advert for a shining knight - sans armour! He was impeccably dressed. Savile row, no doubt, or a personal tailor -elegant black suit, sparkling white shirt, so subtle grey tie that perfectly matched his eyes. The suit, so perfectly tailored, indicated what she knew would be a smashing body.
He smiled at her, and her heart flip-flopped. So corny, but so true! She blushed, took a step backward, then with her usual lack of grace, knocked her papers off the table.
“Blast!” Gem sighed.
He was quickly beside her. He was tall. Very tall! And perfection!
He scooped up the papers as Gem nervously, and again true to nature, managed to tip over her tea cup. She wondered desperately if this devastatingly gorgeous man was someone she should know.
“Blast!” Blushing furiously, she mopped up the tea with a serviette.
“One of those days?” he chuckled.
“One of those years. Not much sleep last night,” she admitted, clattering the tea cup against the saucer. “Blast! Not a good day to pick up babies,” she sighed.
She glanced at him. The muscles of his jaws tightened. The smile seemed to fade a bit.
“You have an infant?” he asked smoothly, handing her the papers he had collected.
“Oh - no - no,” Gem waved her hand, papers and all, in protest. “No children. No pets. Free. Untethered.”
“Ah!” The smile returned.
Lord! What beautiful teeth!
Gem snapped to her senses. Control! Always be in control of yourself! No blathering, she warned herself.
“May I?” He indicated a chair at her table.
“Yes,” she managed a calm tone - or hoped it sounded calm, watching as he drew out her chair for her, before seating himself.
“Wyatt Grantham,” he extended his hand, “no children, no pets, also free and untethered.” Did she recognise the name? He studied her face.
Gem relaxed. He didn’t seem to expect her to know him. Lovely, she thought happily. His handshake was firm, but not crushing, his touch causing another flutter to her heart. “Congratulations - being untethered,” she offered half-humorously, half-questioningly, completely inanely.
“Untethered - for now,” he grinned, “but a man should marry. Home, family, the ultimate goal.” He arranged her papers in a neat pile as he spoke.
My gosh! He is so - so - so - Gem’s vocabulary failed her.
“And you are?” he prompted with a smile.
“Completely lacking social graces,” Gem blushed. “Gem Forrester. Ah - Gemimah - Forrester.”
“A lovely name. It suits you - Gemimah,” Wyatt stressed her full name.
Gem laughed. “I haven’t been called Gemimah in so long. I nearly forgot it was my name. I’m called Gem.”
It was HER!
Game ON!
He glanced down at the papers. Sketches of churches, some of the drawings were of very fine detail. “You are an artist,” he observed.
“Not really. I studied art history. I’m writing a book about medieval cathedrals - history and architecture.” Please let me speak coherently and say something interesting!
“Coffee table book?”
“More or less. I’m expanding my thesis.”
“Master’s?”
“Doctoral.”
His eyebrows rose. “Very impressive.”
“Last year. So glad that’s in the past. But I’m obsessed with cathedrals.”
“Last year,” he repeated, nodding his head. “Very interesting, indeed.”
Oh good! It’s interesting! Gem smiled.
“And you?” she coaxed gingerly, hoping not to sound prying.
“I admire churches, but they are not an obsession with me,” he said lightly. “Oh - work. Business.” He paused. Would she trip to the name now? “Grantham Enterprises International.”
“Oh,” Gem said politely.
Wyatt again closely studied her face. The name hadn’t registered with her. He would stake his life on that.
Game definitely ON!
And bless James for refusing to trade on the Grantham name, insisting on adopting Smythe, their grandmother’s maiden name. The Game would play smoothly.
Wyatt’s gaze fell upon her right hand.
“What a fascinating ring,” he murmured, tracing the object with his finger. “Wherever did you find such a treasure?”
She watched his finger, circling, circling hypnotically, mesmerizing her.
Gem’s thoughts drifted back.

Gemmy had been hastily packing for the flight.
“Gem,” Gemmy hesitated, then smiled. “You must see this!” She held up a ring that gleamed in the bright ceiling light of their bedroom. “This ring is over two hundred years old! It was crafted in London!”
Gem’s eyes opened wide at the sparkling jewel. “Stunning! Wherever did you find it?”
“Barcelona! Lovely, lovely Barcelona! Magical Barcelona! Oh, how I dearly love Barcelona!” Gemma sang and danced around the room. She stopped dancing and lowered her voice conspiratorially. “I cashed in my stocks and bonds. I am going to purchase the loveliest flat you have ever