The Sicilian's Virgin Bride
She flew in at night, in a small private plane that she'd chartered using the last of her cash. The brim of her hat was pulled low over her eyes, concealing almost all of her features, and her hair was ruthlessly subdued and twisted out of sight. She wore a plain black coat over black trousers. No makeup. No jewellery. It was the outfit of a woman who didn't want to attract attention to herself. The outfit of a woman who was hiding.
Had the pilot looked closely he might have remarked on the ashen colour of her skin, or the slight shake of her hands as she clutched her one small bag. Had he looked closer still he might have seen the fire in her blue eyes and the determined jut of her chin. But he wasn't looking. He'd taken one brief glance at her as she'd boarded the plane and immediately lost interest. He'd been paid an enormous sum of money to do exactly that, but all the same Chessie sat rigid in her seat, unable to relax as she stared through the small window into the darkness. She'd refused the offer of refreshment with a brief shake of her head, unable to contemplate placing any further strain on her already churning stomach.
Any minute now they'd be landi ... read full excerpt from: The Sicilian's Virgin Bride ebook
