Читать онлайн «Passion's Promise»

Автор Даниэла Стил

CRITICAL RAVES FOR

DANIELLE STEEL“STEEL IS ONE OF THE BEST. ”—Los Angeles Times“THE PLOTS OF DANIELLE STEEL’S NOVELS TWIST AND WEAVE AS INCREDIBLE STORIES UNFOLD TO THE THRILL AND DELIGHT OF HER ENORMOUS READING PUBLIC. ”—United Press International“A LITERARY PHENOMENON … ambitious … prolific … and not to be pigeonholed as one who produces a predictable kind of book. ”—The Detroit News“There is a smooth reading style to her writings which makes it easy to forget the time and to keep flipping the pages. ”—The Pittsburgh Press“Ms. Steel excels at pacing her narrative, which races forward, mirroring the frenetic lives chronicled here; men and women swept up in bewildering change, seeking solutions to problems never before faced. ”—Nashville Banner

Books by Danielle SteelSUNSET IN ST. TROPEZTHE COTTAGETHE KISSLONE EAGLELEAP OF FAITHJOURNEYTHE HOUSE ON HOPE STREETTHE WEDDINGIRRESISTIBLE FORCESGRANNY DANBITTERSWEETMIRROR IMAGEHIS BRIGHT LIGHT:

“I shall bury the wounded like pupas,

I shall count and bury the dead.

Let their souls writhe in a dew,

Incense in my track.

The carriages rock, they are cradles.

And I, stepping from this skin

Of old bandages, boredoms, old facesStep to you from the black car of Lethe,

Pure as a baby. ”From “Getting There”

by Sylvia Plath, Ariel.

Chapter 1

Edward Hascomb Rawlings sat in his office and smiled at the morning paper on his desk. Page five showed a large photograph of a smiling young woman coming down the ramp of a plane. The Honorable Kezia Saint Martin. Another smaller photograph showed her on the arm of a tall, attractive man, leaving the terminal for the seclusion of a waiting limousine. The man, as Edward knew, was Whitney Hayworth III, the youngest partner of the legal firm of Benton, Thatcher, Powers, and Frye.

Edward had known Whit since the boy got out of law school. And that had been ten years ago. But he wasn’t interested in Whit. He was interested in the diminutive woman on his arm. Edward knew her almost jet black hair, deep blue eyes, and creamy English complexion so well.

And she looked well now, even in newsprint. She was smiling. She seemed tanned. And she was finally back. Her absences always seemed interminable to Edward. The paper said that she had just come from Marbella, where she had been seen over the weekend, staying at the Spanish summer home of her aunt, the Contessa di San Ricamini, née Hilary Saint Martin. Before that Kezia had summered in the South of France, in “almost total seclusion. ” Edward laughed at the thought. He had seen her column regularly all summer, with reports from London, Paris, Barcelona, Nice, and Rome. She had had a busy summer, in “seclusion. ”