To the Ends of the Earth

To the Ends of the Earth

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by Elizabeth Lowell
     
 

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New York Times bestselling author Elizabeth Lowell delivers an unforgettable tale of love and adventure set on the high seas . . .

Photographer Cat Cochran has been to exotic places most people only dream about. Yet all she wants is to get her life in order. One last assignment and she can put her past behind her, forgetting about her heart's

Overview

New York Times bestselling author Elizabeth Lowell delivers an unforgettable tale of love and adventure set on the high seas . . .

Photographer Cat Cochran has been to exotic places most people only dream about. Yet all she wants is to get her life in order. One last assignment and she can put her past behind her, forgetting about her heart's disastrous misadventures. But first she must photograph the mysterious ship designer T.H. Danvers.

Travis Danvers is dangerous—a millionaire with an athlete's body, an enigmatic charmer capable of breaking down Cat's well-constructed defenses with a buccaneer's arrogance and flourish. She knows she must resist him, for experience has taught her that pain is the eventual price of the pleasure to be found in the arms of such a man. But on the high seas, it's easy for Cat to throw caution to the wind and heed the whispers of sensual sirens telling her to abandon all caution— and surrender to a passion only Travis can offer.

Editorial Reviews

Rendezvous
A juicy, provocative and extremely passionate tale.

Product Details

ISBN-13:
9780061797668
Publisher:
HarperCollins Publishers
Publication date:
10/13/2009
Sold by:
HARPERCOLLINS
Format:
NOOK Book
Pages:
384
Sales rank:
31,712
File size:
674 KB

Read an Excerpt

Chapter One

Catherine Cochran was too caught up in the sensuous beauty of ocean and sunset to realize that the tide was creeping up on her. Earlier, when the light had begun to slant and deepen into late afternoon, she had picked her way out on the rocky point below her house, set up her camera, and settled in to wait for the moment when the sun would set fire to the serene face of the sea.

She hadn't noticed that the tide was coming up as the sun was going down. The inward sweep of each deceptively smooth wave brought her an inch closer to real trouble. But each wave also brought her closer to the picture she had spent weeks trying to get.

Everything was perfect today. The tide was low, the sky was clear, the sun was setting, and the surface of the sea was a liquid gemstone shimmering with light. If she was patient, the moment she had been waiting for would finally come.

Behind Cat a ragged line of rocks thrust out of the water, gathering height and power until they finally became a headland braced against the seductive rush of waves. In front of her the ragged tongue of land dissolved into random rocks covered by thick beards of mussels and slick green water plants.

That was what held Cat's attention now. The textures of shells and seaweed, smooth waves and slanting light, were what had lured her out beyond the tide pools and slippery intertidal rocks to this spot midway between land and sea. She had been daring but not foolish in her quest for just the right photo; at low tide, the top of the rock she crouched on was dry and beyond the reach of all but the biggest waves.

The rocks behind and in front of Cat were below water mostof the time. Their rough, powerful faces emerged only during an unusually low tide. As soon as the balance of sea and moon shifted, the rugged rocks would sink again into the ocean's liquid embrace. Then the image she had worked so hard to capture on film would be beyond reach until the next time that tide, sun, and weather worked together again.

As the evening sea swept toward the outer rocks, Cat counted out the seconds between the rhythmic waves. When she sensed that the light and time and wave finally would be right, she braced herself more securely and let out her breath. At the exact instant the fluid curve of water met the rocks, she triggered the motor drive on her camera.

Well beyond the six-hundred-millimeter lens, wave met rock. Water exploded into creamy cataracts. Fountains of iridescent bubbles licked over black stone.

That was the moment she wanted to capture, the fragile caress of foam and the rock that had broken a billion waves...the rock that was itself being melted by rainbow bubbles until finally it would be one with the sea it had so long withstood.

Not defeat, but equality, for wave and rock defined each other. Without the wave, the rock would never know the power of surrender. Without the rock, the wave would spend itself quietly on the shore, never finding a way to transform its smooth perfection into a fierce explosion of beauty.

Cat lost count of the waves, of the times she triggered the camera, of the rolls of film she loaded into the Nikon's compact body. Her legs cramped, protesting their unnatural position. She ignored discomfort, Until the light was gone, she wouldn't allow anything to break her concentration on the changing images — pouring through the long lens into her camera.

Beneath her practiced, calm motions, excitement threaded through Cat. Her trademark was the kind of photos that made the viewer stop, stare, and reassess reality. She knew the shots she was taking now would be some of her best work, combining stark light and shadow, elemental textures, and the changed perspective that was possible only with the use of a very long lens.

With no warning, water leaped up over Cat's perch. A cold diamond spray stung her legs. The cramps had been more painful, but hadn't threatened her camera equipment. Seawater did.

She raised her head, blinked, and focused for the first time on the world outside her camera lens. When she looked back toward shore, she knew that she had stayed too long on her rocky perch.

The thirty feet back to the beach might as well have been thirty miles.

The path to the shore was gone. What had been a tricky journey out beyond the tide line was now a witch's brew of surf, foam, and slick black rocks. To -keep from being swept off her feet by the powerful waves, she would have to cling to the rocks with teeth and fingernails. Yet she needed her hands to hold her expensive photographic gear beyond the reach of the sea.

Water foamed up toward Cat, then hissed down the hard rock. In the reflected glow of the dying sun, the wet stone looked like a primitive sculpture of hammered gold.

For once she didn't enjoy the rich light. She looked at the water with clear gray eyes and the cut-your-losses attitude of someone who had made a mistake and knew it.

"Damn!"

Even if her hands had been free, she would be lucky to keep her feet underneath her on the trip back to the beach. But her hands wouldn't be free. She had thousands of dollars worth of equipment to carry, equipment she needed to earn her living.

Equipment she couldn't afford to replace.

Cat wasted no more time on curses or regrets. She measured the height of the water against the rocks she had used to scramble out to her present perch. Even in the troughs between waves, the water was well above her knees. Add more than three feet of wave onto that, and she was in trouble...

Meet the Author

New York Times bestselling author Elizabeth Lowell has more than eighty titles published to date with over twenty-four million copies of her books in print. She lives in the Sierra Nevada Mountains with her husband, with whom she writes novels under a pseudonym. Her favorite activity is exploring the Western United States to find the landscapes that speak to her soul and inspire her writing.

Brief Biography

Date of Birth:
April 5, 1944
Place of Birth:
Milwaukee, Wisconsin
Education:
B. A., University of California, 1966

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To the Ends of the Earth 4.1 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 34 reviews.
Guest More than 1 year ago
When I read the quotes posted in Ms. Lowell's website, this particular book really got me curious. I decided to buy it, expecting another typical love story. But this one's different. Of course, after two days of meeting Travis, Cat ended up with him in her bed...a typical love story indeed. As I read the story, I got really hook. Ms. Lowell's clear description of the character's emotions stirred me as well. At the end of the story...I cried. It seems that most of her novels made me cry. But this book has a staying power. Even if I read it over and over again, it never fails to stir my heart.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I have read and re-read this book numerous times. Great book. She is powerful.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
One of my favorites.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Fabulous story! I have read most of this author's romance novels and have never been disappointed. This book has an exceptionally emotional story and was spell binding and very moving. I would highly recommend it and have archived it for future reading pleasure.
Guest More than 1 year ago
I've read a number of novels by Elizabeth Lowell--most of them are what I would call 'okay reads'. That is, the plot is fairly well presented, but the characters are fairly interchangeable. This is especially true for the male protagonists--for some reason, each one calls the respective female protagonist by a very silly nickname, which can get to be very distracting after awhile. However, 'To the Ends of the Earth' is quite different--the characters are well drawn,'although I thought that Travis was one of the most thick-headed characters I've ever encountered!' and the story was nicely written. Even though I usually prefer to read historical romance novels, this one was most enjoyable.
Guest More than 1 year ago
This was my first book by EL. I will read others but I don't think they will compare. I had a wonderful time reading about Cat and Travis. This book was full of emotion and intensity. The characters were perfect!!! This is one of my favorite books. It's one of those books you can read over and over and over again. I GIVE IT 10 STARS!!!!
Guest More than 1 year ago
In terms of writing touching, beautiful love stories, Ms. Lowell is incomparable. She knows how to put together a story that warms your heart and soul. Don't miss it.
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BJWVA More than 1 year ago
I love the way she writes; however, I wish she would get a new template. Handsome virile hero, lovely independent heroine. They are attracted to each other, they clash, miscommunication. Then the hero is enlightened and sees how wrong he was, begs the heroine to take him back, HEA. All the "Only" books were that way too. If Elizabeth Lowell was a knitter, all her sweaters would look exactly the same except for the color.
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