‘I love you, Joel,’ Roxanne’s voice was soft and sweet, and tender as a breeze in summer. ‘Say you love me!’ begged Joel when the shelter of foliage afforded them privacy from the hundred or so other guests at the wedding. ‘I must kiss you!’ Joel’s lips were close to her ear and she made no demur on finding herself being propelled towards the great oaken doors leading off into the heated conservatory. In time, Roxanne’s hatred of her husband turned to love-but what chance had she of reaching his heart?ĬHAPTER ONE GAILY she allowed herself to be swung round and round, her long full skirt rising and twirling and falling in soft graceful folds. Indeed, it was only because of her striking resemblance to Marta that Juan had married her. The hacienda, she was told, was haunted still by the spirit of Marta, the girl Juan had worshipped, and always would worship. And so she embarked on this curious marriage-for certainly it was no ordinary marriage. Anne Hampson Hampson Roxanne had always been rather used to doing as she was told without question -which was presumably why why, when the mysterious Mexican Don Juan Armando Ramires, known as ‘the Black Eagle’, swept into her life, married her, and carried her off to his hacienda, Roxanne found herself meekly submitting to it all.
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