"Maxwell Delivers a Wonderful Romance with an Unusual Twist"
Reviewed by Diana Troldahl
Posted September 29, 2012
Romance Historical
The time has come for Eden, groomed from childhood to be a
knowledgeable virgin for the right bidder, is sold to a
Kurdufan prince. Only a long ocean voyage separates her from
her life at the Abbey (a successful London brothel) and a
new life of slavery she can just barely imagine and wishes
with all her heart she could escape. Unfortunately the
price for escape is death. All hope seems lost until a
violent storm at sea leaves her with the choice of staying
safe in her cabin or risking all to providence for the
chance at a new life.
The tiny town of Hobbles Moore is in a quandary. Their own
Pierce, Lord Penhollow is reaching the age he should be
contemplating marriage and his London-bred mother is certain
to thrust a London bride upon him, one who will not take the
well-being of the village into account. For years the
villagers have taken it in turn to guide the young lord and
teach him what he must know to keep his land and the village
viable and prospering into the future. Not only their future
is at risk, they cannot bear to think of Lord Penhollow tied
to a woman who can never make him happy. So they decide to
call upon the gifts and arts of the old ways. Led by Widow
Haskell at the edge of a stormy sea, they call upon strange
powers to bring their Lord a wife worthy of him. When a boat
drifts near their shore with a beautiful and unconscious
woman with richly bejeweled gowns, they know their workings
have received an answer.
Pierce Kirrier is confused and enthralled. The beautiful
stranger he rescued from the ocean claims amnesia. She
kisses like a virgin but is as seductive as the most
experienced courtesan, and somehow has won the hearts of the
villagers and inspired a violent antipathy in his mother who
has no cause to vilify a woman she has never previously met. Eden is caught between wonder at the freedom she has found
and the fear that it may all be taken from her should some
visiting London dandy recognize her. To give herself time
she feigns a loss of memory but is soon caught up in her
feelings for Pierce, this man who treats her with care and
respect. By some miracle he seems to return her regard, but
how can she dare to reach for what she does not deserve? Her
presence in his life could ruin everything for him, and it
could only be a matter of time before the Kurdufan Prince's
men track her down to drag her back to slavery.
Cathy Maxwell's trademark humor and romance are threaded
throughout WHEN DREAMS COME TRUE. The story is thoroughly
spiced with danger and deeper conflict that supersedes the
initial lie Eden chooses. The story is about a woman's self-
worth and the courage it takes to truly love for the very
first time. The characters of the villagers add greatly to
the entertainment value, between their knowing antics and
the real danger threatening Eden I was riveted from first
page to last.
SUMMARY
Everyone knew the Earl of Penhollow needed a wife, so one
thunderous night the villagers gathered together to ask
the ocean to deliver a bride to the bachelor lord . . .
When Pierce Kirrier rescues a mysterious beauty from the
billowing ocean waves, he has no idea who she is or where
she came from. But at first sight of this enchanting
maiden, he knows he must claim her for his own. Taking her
back to Penhollow Hall, he pampers her like a princess,
determined to win her trust and her heart. For Eden, awakening in an elegant bedchamber in a remote
corner of Cornwall is like a perfect dream. In Pierces
arms she has discovered true love, true joy, and a passion
she never imagined could exist. Yet she knows in her heart
that, once her secret past catches up with her, her dreams
could be shattered . . . forever.
ExcerptEden didn't want to lie, not to him, not anymore. But she
couldn't tell him the truth.Lord Penhollow sat down on the piano bench beside her, his
back to the instrument. "Play." "What shall I play?" "It doesn't matter." Her fingers trembled as she touched the ivory keys. She was
all too aware of him, of his thigh brushing against hers,
of his arm leaning on the piano, of the intensity in his
face. For a moment, her mind went blank. She could barely
remember her name, let alone why she was here. Her fingers
stuck a D chord and then began moving almost with a will of
their own. Mozart. The music had been written to be played by moonlight. It
wasn't an easy piece. Its mood changed swiftly, flowing
from pensive contemplation to almost joyous rapture and
back again. She played for him as she'd played for no other, letting
the music speak words that could never, should never be
spoken between them. His expression sober, he leaned his head down on his arm,
listening. The light from the single candle encircled them. Eden didn't feel the burn of tears until the first one
trickled down her cheek. She struggled to hold back the
others. Her throat ached with the pain of regret. Still she
played, her fingers running over the keys, striking chords.
Another tear escaped, this time falling free and striking
the back of her hand just as she finished the final chord. The music vibrated in the air. Neither spoke. Eden couldn't
face him. She lowered her head, staring at the contrast of
her fingers against the creamy ivory keys. The back of his fingers stroked her cheek. She shivered at
his touch, then closed her eyes, pressing her cheek closer,
wanting these few moments between them. Her tears flowed freely now. She tasted them on her lips,
and then, tasted him. His fingers brushed her lips softly,
before his lips hovered near hers in silent question. Eden had never kissed before. The women of Madame Indrani's
did not kiss. A kiss was too intimate, too personal. A poet
had once said, a kiss could claim a woman's soul and never
give it back and Madame had trained her women to believe
it. But now, Eden craved that intimacy. The blood roaring
in her ears, she wet her lips and parted them. He needed no other invitation. Their lips met. The kiss was far more gentle than she'd anticipated. His
lips were smooth and soft. Kissing him felt as natural as
breathing and she relaxed into it with a small sigh. His
arms came around her, pulling her closer. Her hands still
rested on the piano keys. She raised them now and placed
them awkwardly upon his shoulders. His lips pressed against hers curved into smile, a heart
beat before his arms tightened and his kiss deepened. What had started off as simple and innocent flared into
passion. Her breasts flattened against the solid strength
of his chest. Separated by only the thin layers of cotton
material between them, she could feel his heart beat. Her
nipples tightened in response. The tip of his tongue gently
stroked her lower lip. It tickled and she gasped in
surprise. That's when his tongue sweetly entered her mouth
and she really learned how to kiss. This was intimate. . . but, very exciting. Eden drank her fill of him. He'd been sipping brandy. She
could taste it in the kiss, mingled with the salt from her
own tears. His skin smelled of the spice scent of his
shaving soap he'd used a few hours earlier. But it wasn't enough. She wanted to be closer and hooked
her arms around his neck He chuckled deep in his throat.
His hands on her waist, he lifted her up to sit on his lap. Eden faced him, her bent legs embracing his body. She
kissed him back now. He'd shown her how and she reveled in
the feel of his body pressed against hers. Placing her hand
against his jaw, she delighted in the texture of his
whiskered growth beneath her fingers and the movement of
his muscles as he devoured her with his kiss. Their movements pushed her night dress up her thighs.
Pressed against his black, finely woven breeches, she could
feel the long, hard length of him. Something possessive and
proud soared inside her, opening her to him. She pressed
closer. His hand ran up her bare thigh and slipped beneath the
night dress. Their kiss went deeper and deeper as if they
could pull the very breath from each other. She tugged at
his shirt, wanting clothes removed between them. Her
fingers slipped under the waist of his breeches and her
fingertips brushed the velvety hard head of his erection.
His hand came round and captured hers, preventing her from
exploring further. He broke the kiss and leaned back
against the pianoforte, his breathing heavy. Eden tossed her hair back, a wildness thrumming through
her. She leaned her arms on his chest and bit his bottom
lip. "Why did you stop? I want to touch you. I need to feel
you." She would have kissed him again, but he shook his head,
taking both her wrists in his hands. "If we don't stop
here, then I'll never stop." Eden rubbed her breasts against his chest. "Then let's not
stop." His eyes glowed in the candlelight. She waited. She felt
wanton, she felt powerful . . . she felt honest. This, she
was trained for. This, she understood. Suddenly, he rose, bringing her up with him. Strong arms
cradled her shoulders and her legs. He blew out the candle
and carried her from the drawing room to the hallway
leading to her bedroom. Eden threw her arms around his shoulders breathing in the
scent of warm man and starched cotton. Tomorrow, she would
leave, but she would have tonight. He pressed her door open with his shoulder. The room was
dark save for the moonlight coming in through the panes of
the French doors and spreading across the bed. Outside, the
fountain splashed and crickets called. Eden's heartbeat quickened as he didn't waste time but
crossed to the bed and laid her down upon the sheets, the
bed still indented where her body had been resting earlier.
She reached for him. But Lord Penhollow didn't follow her onto the bed. Instead
he backed away, moving into the shadows. Eden came up on one elbow. "Aren't you joining me?" "No." Her passion fuddled mind had difficulty
understanding. "No?" She came up on her knees. "But I
thought– We were just . . ." Her voice trailed off.
She couldn't put into words what they'd been doing in the
drawing room. Oh, she knew many descriptions for it, but
none of that matched this racing of her heart and the
almost desperate need inside her. "Don't you want me?" He gave shaky laugh and then whispered, "I burn for you. I
want nothing more than to be buried inside you and feel
your body around me." Eden groaned with the aching desire his words inspired. She
reached out. "Then come to me." "I can't." Eden dropped her hand to the bed, gathering the sheets in a
fist clenched in frustration. "Why?" "Because there is something I want from you more." "And what is that?" "I want you to trust me." Trust. Eden sat back on her heels. She combed her hair back
from her face with her hands. "What if I can't give you
that?" "You will," he said fiercely. "Because I'm not the type of
man to stop until I get what I want." Her heart seemed to stop. "What if what you want, is not
what you expect?" "You're an innocent, Eden. I could never believe you guilty
of wrong doing." "An innocent?" she repeated with disbelief. "What makes you
believe that, my lord?" His teeth flashed white in the darkness. "My sweet Eden, I
could tell by your kiss. I'm the first man you've kissed,
although you learn quickly." "My lord, I'm far from innocent that you think–" "No, stop. Aren't we all guilty of something?" he
practically growled. His anger surprised her. She pulled back just as he crossed
the room to her. His hands grasped her arms and lifted her
to meet his kiss. This kiss was different than the earlier.
It was savage, possessive, and branded her completely as
his. He let go and Eden slid to the bed, unable to move. Her body cried for more. He stood over the bed. "You're mine," he said. "But I want
more than just this, Eden. When I take you, it will be when
I can claim all of you. Your heart, your mind . . . your
soul." Without another word, he turned and left the room,
shutting the door behind him. It was hours before Eden could fall asleep and when she
did, she knew she would not be leaving on the morrow.
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