“I will, Sam, I promise,” she whispered, gaze tender. “But right now I need more time.”
“And right now I need you, Shannon,” he said firmly, closing the distance with a pained look of regret. His eyes locked on hers while he gently skimmed his palms down her arms. “I ‘need’ you to forgive me for hurting you the way that I did because I can’t live with myself if you don’t.”
“I’ve forgiven you, Sam …” She eased from his hold once again, his touch waging war with her resolve as she fought the seduction of those eyes. She’d always preferred to think of herself as more spiritual than physical, but Sam Cunningham had a way of blowing that assessment right out of the water, unleashing desire in her like no man ever had. Chewing on her lip, she tried to resist to no avail, peeking up at the man who possessed the power to disarm her, body and soul.
“But not forgotten,” he said quietly.
“No.” Her response was almost inaudible, barely wisping past her lips.
Exhaling loudly, he plunged his hands in the pockets of his prized Armani trousers, the matching charcoal jacket perfectly tailored to showcase his broad shoulders and narrow hips. It was complemented as always by one of his crisply starched Armani dress shirts, complete with silver stud cufflinks, and his favorite “new” Ralph Lauren tie. Her lips twitched in a near smile. One that was vomit-free, apparently.
As always, he looked like a GQ ad with a hint of scruff on his hard-sculpted jaw and dark curls groomed to perfection, just begging to be mussed. Those potent eyes refused to let her go, disarming her as they penetrated into her very soul. “Why didn’t you tell me, Shan?” he whispered, the hurt in his face damaging her far more than it did him.
Looking away, she swallowed hard, knowing full well he deserved an answer, deserved an apology as forthcoming as his, and one unhindered by fear. “I wanted to, Sam,” she whispered, the heat of her shame creeping into her cheeks, “but after we became good friends, I … was afraid. Afraid it would ruin your opinion of me, and all those seeds of faith I was trying so hard to sow.” She bit hard on her lip, scarcely aware of the taste of blood as tears burned beneath her lids. “And then when we began to” —a lump bobbed in her throat— “have stronger feelings for each other, I tried a number of times, but something always seemed to get in the way.” Sorrow welled in her eyes as they connected with his once again. “Until I was in so deep, I was petrified you’d turn me away.”
He hung his head. “Fears well-founded, apparently,” he said quietly, his voice heavy with remorse. Expelling a weighty sigh, he looked up, a glint of promise in his gaze. “I’ll never hurt you like that again, Shannon. I swear.”
“I hope not.” Her features turned tender. “But saying it doesn’t make it so, Sam,” she said softly. “It needs the test of time.”
He nodded, head bowed once again. “Does that mean time together? Or time apart?”
Her sigh floated on the same breeze that ruffled the dark curls on his head. “Time apart for a little bit longer, I think, just to make sure it’s what God wants me to do, then ample time together if He tells me you’re the one.”
He looked up beneath those nearly illegal lashes, mouth tipping up on one side. “So it’s Him I need to be talking to, not you?”
Her lips curved in a shy smile. “That would definitely help.”
“Good.” Within two firm strides, he had her in his arms with hands locked at the small of her back, wise enough to leave several inches between them. “Because I’ve been talking His ear off nonstop since the moment you walked out of my door, Shannon O’Bryen, and He and I are on sound agreement on one very important thing.” He cradled her face in his hands, the intensity in his eyes all but welding her to the spot. “We belong together, Shan, and I have never been surer of anything in my life. Give me the chance to prove it to you. To show you that I am exactly what you need because God knows you are everything I need and the only thing I really want.”
“Oh, Sam …” She blinked away more wetness, a tug-of-war tearing her apart. “Never have I wanted anything more, but deep down inside I need to feel His peace, just to be sure.” She cupped his bristled jaw, desperate to make him understand. “I’ve learned the hard way that I need to see love in action as well as hear it,” she whispered, the truth of the Scripture she’d read that morning still emblazoned in her mind.
Let us not love with words or speech but with actions and in truth. This is how we know that we belong to the truth and how we set our hearts at rest ...
Her heart bled through her tears as she gently tugged free of his embrace. “I need to know that our love is more important to you than your pride and your image and your fairytale idea of what pure love should be. And to know you’ll seek your comfort from God and me and not from a bottle.” Body quivering, she took another step back. “To know, Sam, that after God, I’m the most important thing in your life, your source of comfort and confidence like you are to me.” A sad smile trembled on her lips. “And although I hope and pray we belong together, too, I need time to see your commitment in action rather than in words if we do get back together again.”
His Adam’s apple hitched hard in his throat. “If?” The question came out strangled and hoarse, and her heart cramped at the hurt that flickered across his face.
“When,” she said quickly, anxious to reassure him that she wanted this relationship to work as much as he did. “Maybe another week or so, just to give us both a little space to really think it through.” She caressed him with her eyes, hoping he could see the love she harbored inside. “And pray.”
Head tipped, he squinted up at her. “Somehow I was afraid you’d say that.” Expelling a cumbersome sigh, he fished his keyless remote out of his pocket, brows in a lift. “And there’s nothing I can say to change your mind about starting our relationship over tonight?”
She shook her head with a timid chew of her lip. “I would like a little more time, Sam, just to make sure this is what God really wants us to do.” She gave a faint shrug, smile shy as she hugged her arms to her waist. “It sounds silly, I know, but I’ve asked Him for a sign, something so out of the blue, that I’ll know it’s from Him.”
“Okay.” With a resigned nod, he traced a finger down the curve of her face. “Well, before I go, you need to know, Shannon, that I love you more than anything in this world, and I will wait as long as it takes. But, as you so wisely pointed out, actions speak louder than words, so you not only have my word, Shannon O’Bryen, you will have my actions to prove that nothing is more important to me in my life than you.” He leaned in to slowly graze his mouth against hers, so excruciatingly tender, it brimmed more tears in her eyes. “Good night, Angel Eyes.” With a final skim of his thumb to the curve of her jaw, he turned and strode away with purpose.
Right into the lake.
Ker-splash!
Air seized in her lungs as she froze, feet fused to the wooden planks for several horrifying seconds. And then with a cold rush of adrenalin, she dropped to the edge of the dock to peer into the swirling foam of the river, eyes gaping wide. “Sam?”
Nothing but bubbles rose to the surface, and with a horrendous squeeze of her stomach, she screamed all the louder, her heart hammering out the seconds. “Sam—where are you?!”
Her hands and feet started to tingle and she felt lightheaded, her breathing coming out in short, shallow gasps. “Sam!” she shouted again, her voice hoarse and heaving. God, please—where is he?
“Over here,” a rasp sounded, the frantic splash of water tearing her gaze to the ladder at the far end, where Sam was hacking as he climbed onto the dock. She stared in disbelief while he stood there, dirty water sluicing down from every inch of his Armani. Head cocked, he flashed some teeth as he tapped water from his ear. “Sorry—guess I took a wrong turn.”
She stormed over to where he stood shivering, seaweed on his shirt and Cole Haans in a puddle. “What on earth are you doing? Are you crazy?”
“As a matter of fact, I am,” he said
with a proud grin, casually dumping water from one shoe and tossing it to the side before he emptied the other. His dress shoe leaked as he pointed it at her. “About you.” Flipping it over his shoulder, he paid no attention when it plunked right back into the river.
“Oh my goodness, Sam—stop!” she squealed, hand to her mouth to stifle a giggle.
“Because it’s not the shoes,” he continued, peeling off his socks and then his jacket before methodically sailing each over his head. “And it’s not the Armani or the Rolex that I care about, Angel Eyes—it’s you.” He put the watch to his ear and grinned. “Ah … but still ticking, just like my heart.” His brows beetled low with a scrunch of his nose. “Unless, of course, you say no to ever marrying me at all.”
Hands cupped to her mouth, she burst out laughing, the sight of Sam Cunningham soaked to the skin somehow making her happy.
“Oh, you think this is funny, do you?” He sloshed over to where she stood, a veritable T-shirt contest with his stained Armani shirt molding to every sculpted muscle. “Well, this is every favorite thing in my wardrobe, kiddo, but none of it means squat if I can’t have you.” Teeth chattering, he stared her down. “I’ll g-give you all the time you need, Shannon, to prove you’re the m-most important thing in my life after God—but let’s start over right now, t-tonight. Because frankly, Angel Eyes, b-being without you for even one m-more day is far more terrifying than freezing my b-butt off from dirty water in the d-dead of October, trappings and all.”
“Oh, Sam—you’re freezing!” Rushing to the storage closet, she returned with a tattered blanket and draped it over his shoulder before tugging him toward the ramp of the dock. “You’re going to catch your death if we don’t get you changed out of those wet clothes right now.”
“Oh, I’m going to change all right.” Lips turning blue, he stopped cold to pierce her with that do-or-die look beneath water-spiked lashes, the hope in his eyes igniting that in her heart. “Into the man you deserve if it means giving up everything from Armani to Chivas because you, Shannon Terese O’Bryen, are the only thing I want and everything I need.”
She plunked her hands on her hips, chin in a jut that would make her sister proud. “If you think I’m going to give in, Sam Cunningham, just because you pull a crazy stunt like this, then you’re all wet.”
He blinked, water sopping onto the deck in a puddle around his bare feet.
A giggle bubbled up as she circled her arms to his waist. Standing on tiptoe, she lightly brushed her mouth against his with a misty grin before hugging him with all of her might. “And given the state of your soggy Armani, Dr. Love,” she said with a definite peace in her heart, “you most certainly are.”
Note from the Author
Although this is largely a work of fiction, two things are very real. First, Isle of Hope, Georgia is not only a real place, it’s one of the most beautiful and historical locales in the U.S. Located fifteen minutes from Savannah on a peninsula that becomes an island at high tide, Isle of Hope possesses a unique low-country charm and a rich and vibrant history.
Almost a world apart from the continental U.S., Isle of Hope is a sleepy tidal island with a strong sense of community where picture-perfect cottages reside next to lush waterside manors and the historic Wormsloe Plantation. Dating back to the early 1700s, Wormsloe Plantation is the oldest of Georgia’s tidewater estates and has served as a military stronghold, plantation, residence, farm, tourist attraction, and historic site.
With a unique Southern charm all its own, Isle of Hope’s seaside beauty and low-country allure has drawn moviemakers and photographers to its shores for years, boasting such films as the Oscar-winning Glory, the original Cape Fear, The Last of the Belles, Forrest Gump, and The Last Song. And, with a name like “Isle of Hope,” it was—for me—the perfect setting for a story of hope restored.
The second “real” thing about this series is the estranged relationship between heroine Lacey Carmichael and her father in book one, Isle of Hope: Unfailing Love, which purposely mirrors my own relationship with my dad. Although Lacey’s circumstances and mine are totally different, the bitterness and unforgiveness is much the same, as is the road to restoration for both Lacey and me, miraculously wrought through the unfailing love of Jesus Christ, truly a God of hope and healing.
And now, I have a favor to ask. If you enjoyed this novel, would you consider posting a brief review on Amazon and Goodreads? It can be as short as one or two lines, merely stating why you liked the book. Most people don’t realize how critical good reviews are to a novel, but so many readers base their book-buying decisions on the number of good reviews posted, that that’s the best way to bless your favorite authors. And if you do post a review, please let me know through the Contact Julie tab on my website so I can thank you personally.
I hope and pray you were blessed by Sam and Shannon’s story and that of the Carmichaels and O’Bryens, two families who had to learn—as I did—that the true “Isle of Hope” resides in the heart of a Savior Whose love never fails.
Hugs,
Julie Lessman
Author Bio
Julie Lessman is an award-winning author whose tagline of “Passion With a Purpose” underscores her intense passion for both God and romance. A lover of all things Irish, she enjoys writing close-knit Irish family sagas that evolve into 3-D love stories: the hero, the heroine, and the God that brings them together.
Author of The Daughters of Boston, Winds of Change, and Heart of San Francisco series, Julie Lessman was named American Christian Fiction Writers 2009 Debut Author of the Year and has garnered 18 Romance Writers of America and other awards. Voted #1 Romance Author of the year in Family Fiction magazine’s 2012 and 2011 Readers Choice Awards, Julie was also named on Booklist’s 2010 Top 10 Inspirational Fiction and Borders Best Fiction list.
Julie’s most recent novel, Isle of Hope was voted on Family Fiction magazine’s Best of 2015, and Surprised by Love appeared on Family Fiction magazine’s list of Top Ten Novels of 2014. Her independent novel A Light in the Window is an International Digital Awards winner, a 2013 Readers' Crown Award winner, and a 2013 Book Buyers Best Award winner. Julie has also written a self-help workbook for writers entitled Romance-ology 101: Writing Romantic Tension for the Sweet and Inspirational Markets. You can contact Julie through her website and read excerpts from each of her books at www.julielessman.com.
Other Books by Julie Lessman
Following is a listing of Julie’s books, available in both paperback and e-book except for the novellas, which are e-book only. Note: The links below are Amazon, but most of the following books (except the novellas, A Light in the Window, Isle of Hope, Love Everlasting, and Romance-ology 101) are also available on Barnes & Noble, Books-a-Million, CBD, Deeper Shopping Christian Bookstore, Family Christian Stores, and Lifeway.
The Daughters of Boston Series
Book 1: A Passion Most Pure
Book 2: A Passion Redeemed
Book 3: A Passion Denied
The Winds of Change Series
Book 1: A Hope Undaunted
Book 2: A Heart Revealed
Book 3: A Love Surrendered
Prequel to The Daughters of Boston and Winds of Change Series
A Light in the Window: An Irish Love Story
The Heart of San Francisco Series
Book 1: Love at Any Cost
Book 2: Dare to Love Again
Book 3: Surprised by Love
The Isle of Hope Series
Book 1: Isle of Hope: Unfailing Love
Book 2: Love Everlasting
Book 3: Love Unchanging (coming 2017)
Novellas
Hope for the Holidays Historical Collection
With This Kiss Historical Collection
Home for Christmas Historical Christian Romance Collection
A Glimmer of Hope: Novella Prequel to Isle of Hope
Cowboy Christmas Homecoming
Writer’s Workbook
Romance-ology 101: Wri
ting Romantic Tension for the Inspirational and Sweet Markets
Published by Julie Lessman, LLC
Copyright © 2016 by Julie Lessman
Cover by The Killion Group
ASIN: B01KE9PKUQ
All rights reserved. Printed in the united States of America. No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the author. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. To obtain permission to excerpt portions of the text, please contact the author through her website at http://www.julielessman.com/contact-julie/.
Julie Lessman, Love Everlasting
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net Share this book with friends