Excerpt of Lady's Choice by Jayne Ann Krentz

I love you, Travis. Hold me, hold me."

"Juliana."

Travis Sawyer heard his own muffled shout as he shuddered heavily over the flame-haired woman in his arms. The last of his white-hot passion spent itself in a blinding, driving storm of pure release. He lost himself in his lover's arms, surrendering to her fire even as he exulted in his victory. She clung to him with all her sleek strength, drawing him into her until he felt as though he'd stepped into another universe.

It had never been this good with anyone else. Travis Sawyer was thirty-eight years old. He'd never been a womanizer but he considered he'd lived long enough to make the judgment. This was special. Nothing had ever been this good before in his life.

It was everything he had instinctively sensed it would be with this woman. Hot, wild, powerful. He had never felt so alive, so strong. Satisfaction swept through him in the wake of the slowly dissipating passion.

She was his now. Reluctantly he disengaged himself and rolled to one side, his hand trailing heavily over the gentle curve of Juliana's breast. She smiled up at him from the pillow, the expression as dazzling as always, even here in the darkness of her bedroom.

The thick, untamed mass of her hair was an elegant, pagan crown framing her vivid features. Travis stared down at her, captivated by huge, long-lashed eyes, a noble nose, an arrogant, yet surprisingly delicate chin and a luscious mouth. Her long leg slid between his in a languidly sensual movement. Then she closed her eyes and snuggled into his warmth.

He had done it, Travis thought triumphantly as his arm tightened around her. He had claimed his redhaired, topaz- eyed queen.

And then, in the next moment, reality settled back into place around him. What the hell was he doing here, holding her like this? He'd never intended to take his revenge this far; never intended to wind up in bed with Juliana Grant.

He stared deeply into the shadows of the bedroom, searching for answers that weren't there. He felt dazed now that the fiery passion had receded.

Vengeance led a man down strange paths. Juliana Grant had been an unexpected detour in the long road he'd been walking for the past five years. But he could not, would not allow the detour, no matter how exotic, to deflect him from his chosen course. He had come too far. There was no turning back now, even if he wanted to do so.

Travis Sawyer was very good at what he did, and when he had set out to orchestrate his revenge he had left no loopholes. There was no escape for anyone, not even for himself.

The clear, bright California sunshine danced across the bay and slammed cheerfully through the condominium's bedroom windows. Juliana opened her eyes slowly and watched the early-spring light as it bounced around the dramatic white-on-white room. It sparkled on the thick white carpet, bounded off the white walls, struck the chrome and white leather chair and tap-danced over the gleaming white lacquer dressing table. It sizzled when it struck the only color accent in the bedroom, an egg-yolk- yellow abstract painting that hung on the wall over the chrome and white bed.

Mesmerized, Juliana followed the trail of sunlight as it ricocheted between the mirror and the painting and splashed across the foaming white sheets of the rumpled bed. There, in a final burst of dazzling brilliance, the morning sun revealed the alien male being who had invaded her room last night.

A man in her bed. That, in and of itself, was a rare enough event to excite wonder and curiosity, but in this case it was an even more notable occurrence. Juliana hugged herself with her secret knowledge.

Because she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this particular man — this hard, lean, sexy man named Travis Sawyer — was the man. The right man. The one she'd been waiting for all her life.

She savored the delicious secret and held herself very still so as not to awaken the exotic creature lying next to her. She wanted a moment to luxuriate in the thrilling certainty that she had finally encountered her true mate.

He was not exactly as she had fondly imagined over the years when she had indulged in a little harmless fantasizing. He wasn't quite as tall as he should have been, for one thing. She, herself, was just a sliver under six feet and she had always envisioned her true mate as being somewhere in the neighborhood of six feet, four inches or so. Tall enough so that she could wear high heels comfortably around him. Travis was barely an inch over six feet. In two-inch heels she was eyeball to eyeball with him. In two-and-a-half-inch heels she was taller than he was.

But whatever he lacked in height, he more than compensated for in build, Juliana assured herself cheerfully. Travis was sleekly muscular and as solid as a chunk of granite. Last night she had been in no doubt of his strength. The masculine power in him had been totally controlled and all the more exciting for that sense of control. This was a man who exercised a sure command over himself, a man who had learned the techniques of self-mastery. She admired that kind of control in a man. It gave a woman a sense of security — an old-fashioned, primitive assurance that his greater physical strength need never be feared but could be relied upon for protection.

Travis did not quite match Juliana's inner image of her perfect man in a few other minor respects, either. His eyes were the wrong color. Juliana preferred sensual, warm brown or hazel eyes in those of the male persuasion. Travis had cool, crystal gray eyes that did not betray his emotions except in the most intense situations. Last night had been intense, however, she recalled with delight. She'd seen the passion blazing in his eyes and it had sent shivers of excitement through her.

This morning she was quite prepared to drop her old standards regarding eye color in view of the fact that Travis's eyes were not only capable of reflecting his passion, but also an intelligence that complemented her own and a rare sense of humor that delighted her when it showed itself.

His hair was a bit off, too, unfortunately. It was a far darker shade than she'd fantasized. Juliana had always liked men with tawny-colored or blond hair, but she had to admit that Travis's severely trimmed, night-black hair seemed to suit him. The hint of silver at the temples was not at all unattractive.

There were a few other minor discrepancies between the real Travis Sawyer and Juliana's fantasy version of her true mate. If she were inclined to be picky, for example, she could have carped about the undeniable fact that his rough, grim looks would probably forever keep him from gracing the cover of Gentlemen's Quarterly magazine. Ah, well, it was GQ"s loss, she told herself. He looked perfect here in her bed.

Then, too, there was Travis's apparent total lack of interest in style and clothes. She had known him for almost one whole month now and she had never seen him in anything but a pair of dark trousers, an austere white shirt, a conservatively striped tie and wing-tip shoes. His jackets were all muted shades of gray. But Juliana figured she could fix the problem. After all, she had more than enough style for both of them, she told herself. She glanced at her closet and smiled as she pictured the rack of expensive, high-fashion clothes and the boxes of shoes inside. Shopping was high on her list of hobbies.

All in all, Juliana was more than willing to make allowances for the few areas in which Travis Sawyer fell short of her idealized image of Mr. Right. She was used to working for what she wanted, and she was quite prepared to put in whatever time and effort was required to polish her very special diamond in the rough. Last night she had received ample assurance that the effort would be worth it. She still tingled from head to toe with the hot memories.

Having finished her perusal, Juliana stretched slowly, deliberately stroking one toe down the length of Travis's muscular calf. When there was no response, she sighed and accepted the fact that the man probably needed his sleep after last night.

Juliana grinned with amused regret, pushed back the sheet and got to her feet. She was mildly startled to discover she ached pleasantly all over. Travis had been a demanding as well as a bold and generous lover. He'd taken everything he could get but he had given back passion with equal intensity. If she closed her eyes she could still feel his strong, sensitive hands on her this morning. She felt as if she'd been imprinted with his touch.

Standing in the middle of her bright white room Juliana allowed herself one last, fond gaze at the man in her bed and then she headed for the bathroom with a long, exuberant stride.

She would welcome her true mate with a proper display of feminine domesticity, she decided. Might as well give the man a little foretaste of the wonders that were in store for him.

Half an hour later, showered, her mass of red curls caught up in a dramatically cascading ponytail and dressed in a pair of fashionably cut, high-waisted slacks and wide- sleeved painter's shirt, Juliana made her way back into the bedroom. She was carrying a black enameled tea tray. Perched on the elegant tray was an art deco teapot and two cunningly designed, bright red cups.

"Good morning." She smiled brilliantly when she saw that Travis was awake. He sprawled on his back, watching her through half-closed eyes.

"Good morning." His voice was husky with sleep and very sexy.

"Beautiful day, isn't it? But, then, it always seems to be beautiful here in Jewel Harbor. That's one of the things I had trouble getting used to when I first moved here four years ago. It's the perfect California seaside town, and perfection always makes a person a little suspicious, doesn't it?" Juliana busied herself with the tray.

"Even the fog, when it shows up, is different here than it is anywhere else. Soft and romantic and eerie. You don't take milk or sugar in your tea, do you?"

"Uh, no. No, I don't." Travis sat up slowly against the pillows.

"Didn't think so. You're not the type."

"There's a type?" He watched her, as if deeply intrigued by the whole process of pouring tea.

"Oh, definitely. But I knew you wouldn't be one of those." She handed him a red cup. "Just as I knew the day you walked into my shop that you drank just plain coffee, not espresso or latte or cappuccino."

Seemingly bemused, he glanced down at the strong, dark tea and then up to meet her expectant gaze. "No offense, but it is a little surprising to discover that the queen of the local coffee empire serves tea in bed."

Juliana laughed and helped herself to the second cup. "I'll let you in on a little secret," she said as she sat down in the white leather and chrome chair. "I really don't like coffee, especially all those fancy French and Italian variations I serve at the shop. The stuff upsets my stomach."

Travis's mouth curved faintly. "I know most of your secrets but you've hidden this one well. I would never have guessed you're a closet tea drinker. What would the patrons of Charisma Espresso say if they knew?"

"I don't intend for them to ever find out. Until, that is, I get ready to open up a chain of tea shops."

Travis frowned, shaking his head in an automatic, negative gesture. "Forget the idea of tea shops. Your goal is to expand Charisma, remember? There are a lot more coffee drinkers than tea drinkers around here."

"Never mind about my tea shop idea. I don't really want to talk about it this morning, anyway." Juliana eyed him with great interest. "Did you think you knew all my secrets just because you've been looking into my business affairs for the past couple of weeks?"

"Most of them." Travis shrugged, his bare, bronzed shoulders moving with masculine grace against the white satin pillow. "I'm a business consultant, remember? I'm good at what I do. And I've learned that once you know someone's financial secrets, you usually know all the rest of his or her secrets, too."

"Sounds ominous." Juliana shuddered elegantly and took a sip of her Darjeeling. "I'm glad that in our case there are still a few surprises left. More fun that way, don't you think?"

"Not all surprises are pleasant ones."