Perilous Love

Europe is on the brink of the First World War.  Gabrielle and Adrian, their marriage on the rocks, are thrust into a world of territory lies and deceit.   Not knowing who to trust, Gabrielle and Adrian find themselves fleeing for their lives across war torn Europe, the brutal German forces are hot on their heels, determined not to let them escape.   Adrian is between the devil and the deep blue sea as accused of treason and doesn’t know what awaits him back in England.  All he does know is he must reunite his family safely back in England.   Will this mend their broken marriage or tear them apart forever?  The odds are stacked against their survival.  Will they have what it takes to overcome obstacles? 

Jan Selbourne grew up in Melbourne Australia. Her love of literature and history began as soon as she could read and hold a pen. Her career began in the dusty world of ledgers and accounting, then a working holiday in the UK and Europe brought the history to life. Marriage and career put her writing career on the backburner, then on the point of retiring she changed direction to work as secretary for a large New South Wales historical society. Now really retired, she has published three historical fiction/romance novels.  Jan has two adult children and lives in New South Wales.

Excerpt

At one pm the following day, Adrian Bryce nodded to the doorman of Number Two, Whitehall Court, Westminster and walked briskly towards the waiting car. While not handsome in the classical sense, his immaculate attire, bearing and manner was one of wealth, authority and confidence. He was a man who gives orders, never receives them. His dark eyes set in an angular face barely concealed his anger and worry. He knew, along with everyone else with a brain, that war was looming in Europe. Since the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his wife, rumors and intrigue and political double-talk had been flying through Britain and the Continent. Now, because of his family connections in Europe, he’d been ordered to accompany his wife and children on their annual visit to her stifling Belgian relatives who’d never emerged from the Victorian era. It did not matter to the men at Whitehall Court that he and his plain, boring wife of eight years, the mother of his plain, boring children, had lived separate lives for five years. His wife was related to aristocratic families both here and in Europe, and had been introduced to him at a diplomatic reception and, as both were expected to marry well, he thought it a good match at the time. However, their honeymoon proved they had nothing in common except for them to do their duty and produce children. For the last five years they’d rarely spent time together, except for the annual Christmas rituals and the children’s birthdays. He preferred his townhouse in London, she and the children lived at their country home in Kent.

As the car turned in the direction of the small, elegant lodgings in Bruton Street, his mind and body were anticipating what would be waiting for him. Beautiful, voluptuous, passionate, pleasing Maryanne. Christ, he was becoming hard thinking about her. He couldn’t wait to push his head between her magnificent breasts and soak in her body. He’d enjoyed the charms of several women, but never before had he experienced anything like the heat and passion that Maryanne gave. She was expensive, but she was worth every penny he spent on her.

Stepping out of the car, he told the driver not to wait, opened the ornate door and strode up the thickly carpeted staircase and into the beautifully furnished rooms.

“Adrian, my darling.” She put out her hands to him. “You have kept me waiting, you dreadful man.” The beautiful, auburn-haired woman pouted playfully then smiled, highlighting her high cheekbones and tawny eyes. Her husky accent inflamed his lust even more and he pulled her to him. She mouthed “wait”, dropped her loose robe to the floor, and then her warm breath was against his ear.

“Darling, I cannot wait a minute longer.”

Taking his hand, she led him to the adjoining bedroom. Neither wanted foreplay; both desperately wanted release and it came quickly. Collapsing on the pillows, they smiled at each other.

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