Heartbreaker

by Joanne Rock

  “Only because I was quick to believe the worst of her. Since Dad lied to me.” He had to take some ownership for his own actions back then, as did Elena.

  Yet he placed the biggest blame firmly in his father’s court.

  “He did a foolish thing, Gage,” his mom admitted, crossing her ankles. “I hope you won’t hold it against him forever. In his own way, he does love you.”

  And this was how he showed it? Defensiveness ate away at him, especially considering that Elena had just told Gage he wasn’t all that different from his old man. Was he that unbending?

  “Elena traveled halfway around the world as my guest only to be treated like a viper and asked to leave. Is it any wonder I’m not inclined to roll out the red carpet for Dad when he shows up here?” Gage’s attention flicked back to the house, where a light snapped on in the media room he had been remodeling into a studio for Elena.

  With no blinds on the new windows the work crew had installed, he could see her inside the house, dressed in jeans and a simple white blouse, pulling a suitcase behind her.

  His heart stopped in his chest for a long moment before kicking to life faster.

  “I’ve got to go.” Standing, he didn’t know what he was going to say to her, but he knew he had to try to find the right words.

  Fear of her leaving ate away at his insides.

  “Do you love her, son?” His mother’s hand circled his as he stood, but her words were what glued his feet in place.

  “Love?” Not that it was a foreign concept, per se. But he hadn’t thought about it. Or maybe, more truthfully, he’d tried not to think about love and Elena in the same sentence.

  Maybe because love hadn’t worked out well for him in the past. His relationships with his parents—his father especially—had always been difficult. His closest friendships as a kid had resulted in a loss that left a lifelong wound.

  “She’s gotten closer to you than any other woman, Gage. Twice.” His mother’s eyes were wise, her tone gentle as she probed at the edges of his hurt. “Elena Rollins seems too important for you to let her get away.”

  “I’m going to do my best to make her stay,” he assured her, needing to talk to Elena now. Before she got on a plane and never came back.

  “You might have to tell her you love her, son.” She tipped her cheek to the back of his hand. “Don’t keep denying yourself happiness just because Zachary Eldridge didn’t have the chance for a long, full life.”

  When she let go of his hand, it took him a minute to process that he was free to walk away now. Her words looped in his head, making no sense because he’d never thought that way. Never consciously made that sacrifice for the sake of a friend who’d been dead for almost half of Gage’s life.

  Had he?

  Worry fueled his steps as he kept an eye on Elena turning in a slow circle inside the studio space he’d built for her. He feared her leaving, yes. He could admit that. And was it because he loved her?

  Gage tried the idea on for size. Found it fit everything he was feeling. Explained everything that had perplexed and infuriated him about his relationship with her over the last couple of weeks.

  He loved Elena Rollins. He’d been blind and unbending, but he could fix that. The one constant—the one thing that was never going to change—was how much he loved her.

  * * *

  Elena might not have realized what she was looking at in the room under construction in the back corner of Gage’s mammoth house. Except that the work crew had left a big inspiration board propped up in a corner of the room, with drawings of every architectural element to be incorporated in a design project called “Elena’s Studio.”

  Just seeing the title had made her knees feel a little weak. But then, peering back and forth between the half-finished space and the poster, Elena could see where the ideas on the outline were coming to life in the physical setting. Releasing the handle of her suitcase, she walked across the dark hardwood floor to read the notes under the heading “Window Nook” with a series of photos pinned beside it. The board showed ideas from a built-in chaise surrounded by bookshelves to a candlelit, faux-fur-covered bench with retractable blinds on three sides for privacy. The actual window seat in progress was a bump-out of floor-to-ceiling windows.

  In another corner of the room, a raised platform was taking shape and the inspiration board suggested it could have mirrors on three sides for designing clothing on mannequins or doing fittings on real-life models.

  Stunned to see the space that propelled her dreams that much closer to reality, Elena was speechless when she heard the door creak open behind her. She knew who would be there: the man who’d created this haven for her by listening to all of her half-formed dreams over the years, then translated them into workable goals for a crew that he’d said was building a wine cellar for him.

  “I can’t believe you did this.” Her hand trembled a little as she reached out to touch a new window with deep moldings above and below. “It’s so much different in here than in the rest of the house.”

  Gage’s home was a modern take on Western design, with natural stone and timber elements in a relentlessly masculine style. Here, the aesthetic was more formal and traditional, with architectural salvage pieces to give the place an older feel.

  She glanced back at him, taking in his tuxedo shirt. His jacket was missing, and his bow tie remained undone, as if he’d dressed partway for the event and then reconsidered. He moved deeper into the room, his dress shoes lightly tapping the hardwood.

  “I wanted it to look like a New York fashion house. Or a Paris artist’s garret. Something that would transport and inspire you to create.” He jammed his hands in his pockets, looking thoughtful. “I hired an interior decorator who’s a real fan of your blog. But he said we needed to consult you on the design before I did anything else since the style should reflect you.”

  “You know me well, though. I couldn’t have described what I wanted any more perfectly than what you’ve done here.” She pointed to the inspiration board, where all the ideas were laid out with a range of design options for each.

  “These are all your ideas, Elena,” he said cryptically, his dark eyes moving over the poster. “Six years ago, on that trip up the Pacific Coast Highway, I asked you to tell me what your dream office looked like.” He withdrew a hand from his pocket to gesture toward the style specs. “This is what you described.”

  He couldn’t have surprised her more. Turning to face him, she tried to remember that talk. They’d shared so much about their dreams. The future they both wanted. They just hadn’t revealed much about their pasts.

  “You kept all of those notes from that conversation?” she marveled.

  “I made some notes that night in the hotel and tucked them in a file for one day down the road.” His lips curved at one corner. “Believe me, at the time, I didn’t think there’d be a six-year delay before I consulted them again.”

  And yet, he’d kept them.

  Her heart melted into a puddle of love for him, and she wondered how she’d ever recover from loving him so much.

  Then again, what did it matter if he didn’t say the words that she wanted to hear when she had the proof of his feelings in front of her? All around her?

  “I can’t believe you did all of this in such a short amount of time.” She blinked rapidly, daring to look at Gage with new eyes.

  With hope.

  Wasn’t her time with Gage better than any other period in her life?

  “It was my pleasure, Elena.” He took a step closer to fold her hand in his, his warmth wrapping around her fingers. “I wanted to put everything I had into convincing you to stay with me. To be a part of my life.”

  She wanted to question him about that, but she sensed he wasn’t finished yet, and she didn’t want to forestall any insights on this man who confused her even when he made her deliriously happy.
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  Their conversation echoing slightly in the mostly empty room, she realized it had been perfectly quiet for a long moment while they collected their thoughts.

  “But I’ve been so busy trying to find tangible ways to make you stay that I may have missed something more obvious.” He stared down at their clasped hands, and she could see his jaw flexing as he chewed on a thought she couldn’t see.

  Hopeful that he was trying to find an answer, pleased to know that making her happy was important to him, Elena lifted his hand and rubbed it against her cheek. The scent of his soap stirred sensual memories, reminding her how much pleasure they could find together. How in sync they were in so many ways outside the bedroom, too.

  “It’s not as though I haven’t been tempted, Gage,” she reminded him. “But I think I’ve wanted something more long-term than you. Knowing that your family doesn’t want me in your life is a serious deterrent when my dreams of us have been more...” she pointed to the room around them where pillars and walls had been built to last “...permanent.”

  “Mine, too,” he agreed quickly, unthreading their fingers so he could stroke a hand under her jaw. “I wanted to build this for you. Not just here, but at the Silicon Valley house, too. I’ve already lined up contractors to remodel a space for you there, as well.”

  His touch bolstered her as much as his words, the connection between them both physical and something more... But she needed to be sure, for him to be sure.

  “Really? What about your family?” she asked, lifting her head up to remind him of that sticky dilemma. “I can’t change my past.”

  “And I’d never want you to,” Gage assured her. “My mother already understands that, but I’ll have a conversation with my father in the morning. I’m letting him know that while I want them in my life, you come first. And if he wants to be welcome here, he’ll find a way to embrace the unique person you are.”

  She didn’t think it would be that simple, but she could live with that if Gage could. “You sound certain.”

  “I am. Elena, I love you.” He caressed her cheek with his fingertips, then combed over the spot with the backs of his knuckles.

  She was sure she’d misheard. His touch had distracted her. She went very still. “Excuse me?”

  He leaned closer, tipping his forehead to hers. “I love you. I didn’t know how much I was denying letting myself feel that way until—” He shook his head. “I’m sorry that I didn’t see it before. That I didn’t know it six years ago, because it was a mistake to let you go then, too.”

  She couldn’t quite follow all the nuances of what he was saying, but the “I love you” had been as clear and plain as she could ever ask for. It cut through everything else to soothe her heart and assure her this could all work out.

  “I love you, too, Gage.” She lifted up on her toes to kiss the corner of his lips where he’d been frowning. “It’s okay that you didn’t know then. As long as you feel sure now.”

  “Sweetheart, I’m so sure.” His New Zealand accent was thick as butter, making her smile even as it tantalized her. “I let my past do a number on me and I knew that was true on a lot of levels, but I didn’t realize until just now that I let it rob me of the future I want with you, too.”

  “How so?” Now that he seemed as relieved as she felt to recognize that what they had was too special to let go, she couldn’t help but wonder why he hadn’t seen that sooner.

  “The role modeling for love in my family—” He shook his head. “Well, you’ve seen what that looks like. But it didn’t matter as a kid once I found friends. Solid, meaningful friendships that were better than any family as far as I was concerned.”

  Shadows moved through his eyes.

  “And then Zach died.” She was so grateful he’d shared his past with her, offering her a window of insight she’d been missing six years ago.

  “Losing him made it tough for me to let good things into my life. But I know that was wrong of me.” He skimmed a touch along her shoulders before tracing the path of her hair down her back. “I should be honoring his memory by living life to the fullest—the way he always did.”

  “I know what’s between us is right.” She’d tried loving someone else and the results had been painful for them both.

  “I do, too. And I know we’d be damned fools to let go of it again.”

  “I don’t want to be a fool.” A laugh bubbled up in her throat, a new happiness crowding her chest. “I feel so lucky to have a second chance.”

  Hope filled her heart.

  “So you will consider a future with me, Elena Rollins?” he asked, wrapping both arms around her and pulling her flush against him. “Will you unpack your suitcase and stay right here? Let me build you a space that’s just for you here and in Silicon Valley?” He tilted her face to look deep into her eyes. “Because I want you to always know that whenever you’re with me there’s a permanent home for you that’s just the way you want it.”

  His words—the sentiment behind them—showed her how thoroughly he understood her. Emotions clogged her throat. “That’s a really nice thing to offer a woman who never stayed in one place for more than eleven months until after I turned eighteen.”

  “You’ll always have a home with me.” He brushed a kiss over her lips. Soft. Tender.

  With the promise of so much more.

  * * *

  Dynasties: Mesa Falls

  Don’t miss a single installment!

  The Rebel

  The Rival

  Rule Breaker

  Heartbreaker

  The Rancher

  The Heir

  by USA TODAY bestselling author

  Joanne Rock

  Available exclusively

  from Harlequin Desire.

  Keep reading for a special preview of

  Forbidden Promises

  the first book in Synithia Williams’s irresistible Jackson Falls series.

  India Robidoux wants nothing more than to avoid her sister’s ex-husband...even if they did share one unforgettable kiss years ago.

  What do you do when you want the one person you can’t have?

  Coming March 2020 from HQN Books!

  Forbidden Promises

  by Synithia Williams

  CHAPTER ONE

  A LARGE CALLA lily bouquet came entirely too close to slapping India Robidoux in the face the moment she entered her family’s home for the first time in four years. Only a quick slide to the right saved her from that indignity.

  The woman carrying the flowers rushed by with a barely audible “excuse me.”

  India jumped back to avoid being hit by another bouquet as a different woman with an equally large arrangement hurried by. The ornate oak-and-glass front door swung open behind her. India stutter-stepped to the right to avoid being hit. Maybe she should have taken up dancing instead of the violin. She clearly had the footwork down.

  The front door opened again, and a man carrying a large box rushed through. “Where do you want these?” he asked her. He shifted and the sound of glasses clinking together came from the box.

  India’s mouth opened, then closed. She glanced around in the hope he was talking to someone who had some clue what was going on.

  The man loudly cleared his throat. “Ma’am?”

  Blinking rapidly, India pointed down the hall where more noise came from the back of the house. “Um...the kitchen?” That had to be where glasses needed to go.

  The man nodded and hurried on his way. Yet another woman carrying a huge bouquet, roses instead of calla lilies, rushed by again.

  India moved out of the entryway and the line of people going back and forth. She pulled her cell phone out of the back pocket of her jean shorts and checked the date. No one’s birthday, no anniversary and no major holiday. Why were there dozens of people zipping around making the a
lready impressive interior of her family home even more extravagant?

  People were everywhere, placing flower arrangements, hanging decorations, carrying crates and cleaning every nook and cranny. The effort put into whatever was going on wasn’t surprising. Her family didn’t do anything half-assed. It was as if four years hadn’t passed and she was back home in time for another Robidoux Family production.

  “I told the caterer there were to be no oysters, at all. If my brother dies from an allergic reaction to oysters at his own party because the caterer is too dumb to remember my instructions, there will be hell to pay.” Her sister’s cool Southern accent was laced with frustration.

  India rolled her eyes and sighed. Apparently, Elaina’s tendency for overdramatic threats hadn’t diminished recently.

  The quick apologetic reply of the unfortunate assistant her sister spoke to accompanied the sound of heels clicking along the marble in India’s direction. For a second, she considered hiding, but dismissed the urge. There was no reason to hide from her sister. Their relationship wasn’t the closest, but neither were they enemies. Elaina always viewed India as the annoying baby sister in need of her guidance. Adulthood hadn’t changed that perception.

  Elaina and a woman India didn’t recognize came into view. Elaina’s deep sepia skin, dark almond-shaped eyes and perfectly flat-ironed hair hadn’t changed at all. Even though Elaina was thirty-four, India swore her sister had stopped aging at twenty-five.

  Elaina’s furious pace didn’t slow down even though the other woman struggled to keep up with her. Seeing they would continue right by her—probably assuming India was just another person helping with the party which apparently was for her brother—India sighed and stepped away from the wall. “Byron isn’t going to die from eating an oyster, Elaina, and you know it.”

  Elaina froze midstride. Surprise registered for a millisecond before her gaze traveled over India’s body.

  India automatically stood straighter. She was considered the artist of the family and her brother... Well, he was the son, which made him their father’s pride and joy. Everyone agreed Elaina was the beauty, but that didn’t stop her big sister from quickly sizing up India every time they were together. That didn’t make her sister’s scrutiny any less annoying. So, India wasn’t dressed to impress. She’d come straight from the airport, leaving her luggage in the car in her rush to get inside and figure out why there were so many vehicles in the long drive. She wore jean shorts with a white tank top that sported the words Plays Well With Others beneath musical notes. Elaina’s peach silk blouse and tan pencil skirt easily outshone India’s wardrobe, but India had traveled all day and opted for comfort. That had to count for something, right?