Across the Sea (Volume Four): Across the Sea, #4

Rachel Verano came to London, England to become a painter but instead is working long hours every night in a back-street bar and her dreams seem increasingly unreachable.

A fiercely independent woman, Rachel immediately resists the approaches of enigmatic Billionaire Edwin Waterman. But try as she might, and despite her belief that she could never give herself to any wealthy man... she cannot ignore the fact that in his presence the world seems to open up before her.

Will she finally allow herself to fall completely under Edwin's spell? Will he open Rachel's eyes to a new world, full of new possibilities, which she had never even imagined? A life of luxury awaits...

Find out in this emotional and satisfying final chapter of Rachel's saga!

Fans of Bella Andre, Rachel Gibson, and Kristan Higgins will love this quirky romance series with strong, independent woman and sexy alpha heroes.

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Note: Parts of Across the Sea were previously published as Rachel and the Billionaire.

Rachel Verano bit her lip as she stared intently, paintbrush in hand, at the paper before her. It was stuck to the wall of her tiny bedroom, and was already half-filled with vibrant colors and fleshy shapes. Suddenly Rachel was overcome with inspiration and frantically began to paint more; the luscious pinks and reds she was using splashing somewhat onto the newspaper which was coating her entire carpet as she filled in more of the strangely exciting abstract shapes which fitted together on the paper. Rachel's tongue stuck out of the corner of her mouth as she painted, concentrating hard on the strokes and letting herself get lost in the task with a focus which comes only from true passion.

The whole of her room was tidy with everything neatly put away; leaving her space to express the waves of energy for creativity which had suddenly come upon her that morning. Spread around the room were half-finished sketches and on the walls were stuck paintings in progress of various sizes. Rachel had not gone into this with any kind of structure or method and was simply skipping around the room from one painting to the next as the mood took her, seized by the sheer abandoned delight of creation.

As she painted she sang; whirling around the room from brush to water to painting; feeling her inspiration attentively as she began eagerly applying the brush strokes at greater and greater pace.

Across the room from the bright pink and red painting was a large paper almost taking up her entire wall; which was already half-depicting a kind of moonlit river scene, heavily stylised and with every brush stroke visible as part of the swirling patterns joining together the sky and the water. As Rachel enthusiastically dropped her magenta and rounded on this painting, indigo at the ready, she was thinking distantly of Edwin's brilliant green eyes, and the way in which he made her feel so comfortable around him, despite his mysterious character.

She was focusing intently on the swirls of blues she was producing as the memory of being held briefly by him when they were stood by the river filled her with an intense tingling. Her creativity newly aroused, she redoubled her concentration; elegantly splatting paint in all directions except for on the works in progress as her painting became almost frenzied. She was caught in a wave of delicious creativity; pulling her towards simply doing because she loved to do, and she danced around the newspaper, picturing again those verdant eyes as she tried not to step on too much of the spilled paint. She could almost feel his breath on her skin as she feverishly dabbed at more of her flamboyant shapes, making them stand out in a way which drew the eye deep into the painting, and reached for the magenta again, breathing heavily –

But suddenly, she froze, brush halfway to the splodge of paint on her palette. She looked doubtfully at the titillating pink shapes, attempting to get back into her painting trance. Turning, she perused the swirling river; but it was no good. The creativity seemed to have ebbed in her just as suddenly as it had begun that morning. She put down her brush and sat down in some confusion on the bed.

And how was she going to reach out to Edwin anyway, when she had been so cold to him before? But that didn't matter, she thought decisively, as she absent-mindedly twirled her paintbrush around her hand, staining her skin deep crimson. She wanted him, and so somehow she would work something out. Strange that she had completely lost the mood for painting though. Finally putting down the brush, she wandered into the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea.

Despite her sudden loss of enthusiasm she was still filled with new excitement as she cycled to work, her sketch books and pictures for now put safely away. Today had been the first time that she had actually picked up some paintbrushes and made something new for many, many months and even though the mood did not last, she could feel an enthusiasm for life building inside her which she had previously almost forgotten she could feel.

Previously; before she met Edwin? He was certainly some kind of key to this well of inspiration. She was still unsure of exactly how he fit in with her newly-found joy, but sensed instinctively that if she was going to paint more, she needed to see him again.

'And that's exactly what I'll do' she told herself confidently. Weaving skillfully around a corner, she beamed with pride as she managed to lift her leg elegantly from one side to alight smoothly just outside her place of work; a move she had been practicing. She was really getting into this cycling as well.

Rachel found herself surprising herself more and more often these days. Only a month or so ago she would not have believed that she could ride a bike around the city with confidence and skill; or be able to lose herself in frenetic painting at no outside instigation. Yet although she felt as though these were positive changes, simultaneously occurring was a growing impatient dissatisfaction. She sighed as she handed a customer his change distractedly, unsure what to make of this new sensation.

Can't wait till the end of the night, we can relax with a lovely pint! commented Emily, somewhat breaking Rachel's self-contemplation. She frowned.

Hmm...not sure if I feel like drinking tonight, actually, she said, surprised again at her reaction. Somehow she hardly ever felt like drinking these days.

You don't even want a little one? asked Emily, also surprised, her blue eyes widening in wonder.

Er...nah. Rachel wrinkled her nose. I'm really not in the mood for alcohol. Sorry, she added as she popped the cork from a wine bottle held squeezed between her thighs, aware that this statement may sound odd.

She was noticing that not drinking so much seemed to mean she had a lot more time to do things. She was getting up a lot earlier in the mornings and found herself actually able to do something useful with those mornings; rather than simply sitting in hungover languor eating cheese on toast.

Hah! Sorry? laughed Emily, as they came together to the till, notes in hand. I'd say you look better for it. I don't think I've seen you look so healthy before!

Yeah, Rachel, noted Mia, as Rachel gave her waiting punter his change with a genuine smile; You seem different. Don't tell me that not drinking alcohol makes you happier!

Nooo! cried Emily in mock-horror. Say it ain't so!

They laughed as they swooped down the bar together, whisking up glasses and wiping beer stains with practiced precision.

Or is it something else that's making you so happy? wondered Emily.

Or someone, corrected Mia shrewdly, and they both stopped, glass-laden, and looked to Rachel in expectation.

Rachel smiled, averting her eyes enigmatically.

Another change she had noticed was that she seemed to have more money than usual. She had not realized before how much she had been spending on alcohol; since now she was suddenly able to buy more of the food that she actually felt would be good for her rather than just going for the cheapest (and not necessarily nicest) options. She was even managing to save some money at the end of every month! 'I suppose it's money I'm saving from not using the buses and trains as well' she thought as she powered past a sluggish double-decker, happy in her fluorescent clothes and safety lights. All very surprising; and surely a very good improvement in her life. Yet - yet, yet.

'Well', she thought, 'I know what to do about it, whatever it is.'

She had not yet called him since her realization about a week ago that it was him she truly wanted. She did not know how to tell him; just because she was recognizing some of her feelings didn't mean that she was ready to communicate them. But arising the next day more or less with the sun, she gazed out at the morning mist drifting from the trees in the street below her flat and felt good about today being the day.

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He had readily agreed to meet her again, sounding so pleased to hear from her that she felt butterflies begin to awaken in her stomach within his first couple of words. They arranged to meet at the Botanical gardens at Kew; a place she had never visited before, having no particular business in Richmond. She wondered about whether to try cycling the whole way; she would certainly be very red and sweaty by the time she met Edwin; and what if he wanted to go somewhere afterwards? No, she decided, she had enough spare money: she would once more brave a brief entanglement in London's transport network.

The sky was a fantastic crispy blue and Edwin seemed to be radiating happiness to her; resplendent in a white suit in the creamy winter sunshine. There was some kind of free plant show going on at Kew and the whole place had a festive feel. Edwin took her arm and they chatted amiably as they wandered among the roses, heading for the gigantic glass and iron structure of the Palm House. Just being in contact with him was enough to titillate her, and he was in a particularly light-hearted mood today, skipping along next to her in way which contrasted hilariously to his pristine suit; and she could not help but feel her spirits soar up to join his. As they neared the entrance of the Palm house, they were giggling contentedly.

Have you ever been inside here before? asked Edwin, gazing down at her with those intoxicating eyes.

No, said Rachel, intrigued. I always thought it was too expensive to go and see just a few plants. Really cool that they open this place sometimes to everyone for free.

Yes, agreed Edwin, plants are very important. It's good to make friends with them.

She laughed, and he pushed open the heavy iron door for her, holding it open with a cheeky wink.

Excited, she stepped inside.

The first thing that hit her was the heat: a wave of tropical air which she could hardly believe was real; so shocking was the contrast with the cool winter sun outside. She pulled her jacket off, gazing around in curiosity at the plants; inhaling a heady mix of sumptuous aromas. They began to walk around together, exclaiming at the huge variety of fabulous blooms spraying out before them in every