Written in the Stars

by Katherine O'Neal

Overview

Katherine O'Neal takes her readers on a rapturous odyssey of seduction, betrayal and erotic obsession as two star-crossed lovers search for Cleopatra's lost treasure in the sands of Colonial Egypt.

"O'Neal provides vibrant characters and settings, along with plenty of intrigue, daring escapes, 11th-hour twists and steamy romance." – Publisher's Weekly

A bewitching romance classic, in ebook for the first time.

Product Details

BN ID:	2940044581784
Publisher:	Katherine O'Neal
Publication date:	06/10/2013
Sold by:	Smashwords
Format:	eBook
File size:	351 KB
Age Range:	18 Years

About the Author

Katherine O'Neal is the USA Today best-selling author of twelve historical romances. Her 1993 debut novel, The Last Highwayman, earned Romantic Times' honors for Best Sensual Historical Romance, and she is the recipient of the magazine's coveted Career Achievement Award.

Dubbed by Affaire de Coeur magazine, "the Queen of Romantic Adventure," Katherine lives for travel and has made extensive research trips to all the glamorous locations where her novels are set. "The spirit of place is very important to my work," she says. "To me, nothing is sexier than travel."

Katherine lives in Seattle with her husband, the author and film critic William Arnold, and their four guinea pigs—all of whom have had one of her books dedicated to them.

Foreign language editions of Katherine O'Neal's books are available in more than a dozen countries. Her 2008 novel, Just for Her, will be published this year as a Japanese Manga comic.

Read an Excerpt

"So you want to find your father's bloody treasure, do you, Diana?" This wasn't the voice she remembered. It throbbed and seethed and demanded with all the passion she'd set loose. It stirred her deeply, causing her breath to come in wispy gasps."His obsession with that treasure has destroyed my family and, I suspect, caused his own death. Would you like to see what it did to me?"

He jerked his jacket open and flung it in one furious motion across the room. Then he savagely ripped his shirt off, buttons scattering against the wooden floor, and sent it flying in the jacket's wake. As he did, Diana saw the cries-crossing of scars beneath the thick hair and bronze expanse of his chest. His arms, sleekly muscled, were similarly scarred. When he turned his back to her she saw the faded tracks left by the cat-o'-nine-tails.

"Now tell me," he spat out, facing her again. "If my jailers couldn't break me, what makes you think I'd bend to your will?"

Her eyes had been riveted by the scars. Rather than deform him, they lent him the rugged, dashing quality of a martyr stoically holding his tongue beneath the most unimaginable torture. It actually made him more attractive, gave his finely honed body a sense of reckless adventure and romantic mystique.

Dragging her gaze back to his face, she said, "Because you owe me."

"I owe you? I'm the one who spent two lousy years in that hellhole, wanting to die. I'm the one who had to wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of a turning key, knowing they were coming again, and wondering if I could take it one more time. I'm the one who didn't get so much as a visit from the woman who justtwo nights before I was arrested had sworn to love me no matter what. If anything, baby, you owe me?"

He was scaring her. She thought she'd seen him in all imaginable circumstances, but she'd never seen him like this. She used her anger as a shield, attempting to bluff, to conceal the fear that he must surely sense.

"You're mad! Whatever you've been through, it must have warped your mind."

"It did more than that. It taught me never to trust a woman's promise again."

She felt the outrage burst in her like a broken dam. "You insufferable boor! You wrested that promise from me under the falsest of pretenses. How could you have done that? To betray me so miserably after I gave you something I'd given no other man. I made love with you. I trusted you, Jack, with everything I had. And after all that, you didn't even have the decency to trust me with the truth. Damn you for what you did to us. If you rot in hell you can't make up for a minute of it."

Thatwas why she hated him. That was why she'd do anything to see him on his knees before her.

But he wasn't on his knees. He was looking at her through a narrow, bitter gaze that spoke of his own betrayal at her hands. Yet it was the shrewd gaze of a quick mind ticking off the possibilities.

Jack remained as he was, stubbornly silent. There were things he hadn't told her, things that would help explain his actions. But now wasn't the time. He'd be damned if he'd give her the satisfaction.

Diana straightened her shoulders, as if pulling together what was left of her dignity. His glance dropped to the outthrust swell of her breasts.

"Tell me," he said, hooking one thumb beneath her jaw and lifting it to study her face. "Have you been with another man since our last encounter?"

"That's none of your concern," she snapped, jerking her chin away from his hand.

"No, but it would make the payment all the sweeter." She narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean?"

"You want something from me. You've made it clear you'll stop at nothing. Should I leave now, no doubt you'll hound me until I tell you what you want to know. I hate to think what lengths you'll go to next. So the prudent thing would be to give in to your demands and be done with you once and for all. But that brings up the question of payment. You wouldn't expect to get something for nothing. And my services don't come cheaply, as you may know."

"Mercenaries never do."

"So, logically speaking, what have you to offer me?"

"Money," she said, a little too quickly.

"Money is of no use to me now. You don't have enough to make it interesting."

"What then?"

"What, indeed? What could you possibly have that would be worth my time?"

He was looking her up and down.

"Two minutes of your time."

"Two years and two minutes," he corrected.

"That's not my fault.

"I'm a bitter man, Diana. I'm not ashamed to admit it. I despise you and your family every bit as much as you scorn me, if not more. I see it in your eyes that you want me punished for my sins. Well, guess what, sweet? I want you chastened just as much. So I ask myself, what could you possibly give me that would make your flesh crawl to hand over? What," he asked idly, tracing the back of his finger in a path from her collarbone to the soft mound of her breast, "indeed?"

She slapped his hand away. "If you think I'll stand still and let you blackmail me this way, you're madder than I thought."

"Cheeky words, coming from a kidnapper. We might as well be honest. We loved each other once, or thought we did, but we're adversaries now. We don't trust each other, and we each feel we have good reason. So any personal appeal you might make to me is guaranteed to fall on deaf ears. I'm on to you now, and am not bloody likely to fall prey to your trap a second time. I don't give a damn if you find your father's precious treasure. But since you do, here are my terms. I'll give you the information you want and you give me what you've--given no other man."