eyond Desire Collection

by JS Scott, M Malone, Marie Hall, et al

  Chapter Seven

  “Whatever my brother is giving you, I’ll give you more if you come to me when he’s finished with you.” The sultry male voice pierced the silence right next to her ear, startling her so badly that she would have toppled over the dock railing if a strong male hand hadn’t gripped her waist. “Whoa. Steady.”

  She whipped around to face the voice, already recognizing it as Sam’s. He crowded her, resting one hand on each side of her, keeping her from escape.

  “W-What did you say?” The man left her cold and she didn’t appreciate his familiarity.

  “I’ll pay. Whatever you want. However much you want.” His eyes were cold and she shuddered.

  Oh, God. She was going to be sick. Gulping, she stared up at Sam’s deity-like appearance, barely able to believe that he was actually propositioning her.

  Like a harlot.

  Like a prostitute.

  Like a whore.

  Anger rose inside her like a phoenix, climbing higher and higher, stronger and stronger. She could barely see through the haze of red that clouded her vision as her body trembled.

  “Simon won’t mind,” Sam assured her as his hand moved to her bare shoulder.

  His comment resonated through her, making her snap. What the hell was with the Hudson men? Did they think they could buy any woman they wanted to fuck? She drew her hand back and let it fly…hard. It connected with his smirking face with a satisfying smack that exploded in the near-silent evening, cracking through the peace of the night.

  “Maddie was right. You are a complete snake,” she hissed, her body shaking with rage.

  “Maddie? Maddie Reynolds?” Sam’s expression was complete astonishment and shock. She wasn’t sure if it was the slap or the mention of Maddie’s name, but she didn’t wait to find out.

  She pushed his arm out of the way and ran, deviating from the path to run across the well-manicured lawn to the front of the house.

  She tore down the driveway and ran until she found James waiting patiently in the Mercedes. Tearing the front door of the car open, she dove into the front seat. “Please take me home,” she choked out, tears clogging her throat and making her voice raspy. “Please.”

  “Ms. Kara. Are you all right?” She couldn’t see his face in the dark, but the concern in the driver’s voice was evident.

  “I’m not feeling well. I need to go home,” she stated, not able to keep a pleading note from her request.

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  “Yes. Take me home. I’ll be fine.”

  She wouldn’t be fine. Not now. Not tomorrow. Probably not for a very long time. But she didn’t tell him that.

  James, bless him, didn’t ask any more questions. He started the vehicle and headed directly toward the condo.

  Kara knotted her shaking hands around the soles of the shoes in her lap, trying not to let the tears flooding her eyes fall. She couldn’t cry. There wasn’t anything to really cry about. The Hudson men were just doing what they normally did. She was the one with the problem.

  Somehow, she had done an incredibly foolish thing. She had allowed herself to fall in love with Simon Hudson. Deeply, passionately, completely in love. It wasn’t like the love she had harbored for her ex. This was a confusing, soul-shredding, rip-your-guts out love that was going to hurt. Big time.

  Swallowing down a bitter sob by biting her lip until it bled, she turned her head to the right, watching the city fly by as James drove her competently toward home.

  You’ve gotten through loss before, Kara. You’ll get through this.

  Since the death of her parents, she had used encouraging words and pep talks to get herself through her toughest battles. They had always worked before. Hadn’t she made it this far?

  You’ll forget him. It will just take time.

  An uncomfortable weight settled on her chest-hard, heavy and totally crushing.

  For the first time in her life, Kara Foster felt like she was lying to herself.

  ***

  “Kara!” Simon bellowed loudly as he slammed the door of his condo behind him, tossing his keys carelessly on the kitchen counter.

  There was a small, neatly wrapped present on the counter with a card, but he ignored it and raced through the condo like a man possessed.

  “Kara!”

  He yelled her name until he was hoarse, but every single room was empty. Her room looked basically untouched, except that her backpack was missing.

  “Shit!”

  He went to the kitchen and lifted the gaily wrapped package, finding a personal check from Kara in the amount of ninety thousand dollars and a single sheet of paper under the card and gift.

  I’ll repay the rest as soon as I get a job. I left all of the things you gave me except for a few pairs of jeans and a couple of shirts. Thanks for everything. I’ll always be grateful.

  Kara

  What. The. Fuck. He didn’t want her damn gratitude. He wanted…her.

  He crumpled the paper in a tight fist, his knuckles white from the effort.

  She had left him?

  No explanation.

  No goodbye.

  Just…gone.

  He scooped up the gift and the sealed card, carrying them both to the living room while he poured himself a stiff drink. After knocking back a whiskey in one gulp, he poured himself another and dropped into a leather chair, setting the drink on the coffee table beside him.

  He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, wishing he could get a do-over on the evening, starting with the part where he and Kara had left the condo for the party. If he could have a do-over, they would never have left the condo.

  He had nearly killed his own brother tonight, had happily beat the shit out of him after he had found out that Sam had hit on Kara. It hadn’t been hard to figure out. Kara had been missing and Sam had a tell-tale handprint on his face, an obvious souvenir from a pissed-off female. Furthermore, Sam had led Kara to believe that Simon wouldn’t mind if Sam fucked his woman.

  Granted, Sam had been two sheets to the wind, but Simon had been so out of control when his brother had made his drunken confessions that he didn’t care. He had pounded his brother into the ground, stopping only when his mother got between the two of them.

  It was the only physical fight that he and his brother had ever had. Sam had never laid a finger on him, and Simon would have never imagined punching his brother. Until tonight. Until Kara. The thought of any other man touching Kara made Simon completely insane.

  It hadn’t made Simon feel any better to know that Kara had rebuffed Sam, bitch-slapping him hard enough to leave a mark. She had probably been scared, confused. And she had left him. It made him want to lay into his stupid-ass brother all over again.

  He opened his eyes, noticing that he had crumpled the card in his lap. Smoothing it out, he opened it.

  Simon,

  Happy Birthday! I wanted to give you something that I didn’t have to buy with your money, something special. I know you collect coins, so I thought of this gift.

  This belonged to my father. It was his lucky penny. He found it on the exact same day that he met my mother. He swore it was only moments before he saw her for the first time. He always said it brought him the luckiest event of his life.

  I’ve always carried it with me. I’ve made it this far, so I guess it has been lucky.

  I know it’s not much, but I want you to have it. I know you don’t really need luck, but I’ll feel better knowing you have it. I hope it always keeps you safe.

  Kara

  Simon tore open the package and stared long and hard at the small, worn plastic case. He finally popped it open, and glanced at the lucky coin.

  Astonished, he flipped it over and then over again. Hell, it was a 1955 Double Die Obverse. And in very nice condition. He wasn’t a professional grader, but he was willing to bet that it would grade high.

  Did the crazy woman realize that she had been carrying around such a rare coin? A coin that would probab
ly feed her for several months if she sold it?

  Probably not. And he knew that Kara would probably rather die than sell something so sentimental, something that belonged to her dad.

  But she had given it to him. She had parted with something extremely dear to her to give him a birthday present.

  He closed the case and gripped the coin hard, placing it over his heart as pain ripped through his sternum. Why had she parted with this? Why had she given it to him? Instinctively, he knew it was special to her, so special that she always kept it close.

  Simon knocked back his second drink and put the coin in his front pocket. It wouldn’t leave his possession until he could give it back to her. Personally.

  Grabbing his cell phone, Simon dialed his security manager, Hoffman. He answered on the second ring.

  “Are you tailing her?” he asked his security chief gruffly, not bothering with niceties.

  “Of course. I wasn’t sure what was going on, but she seems settled for the night. Good neighborhood, decent house. Belongs to a Dr. Reynolds,” Hoffman informed him.

  “She left. Keep a team on her twenty-four-seven. I want to know if she sneezes.”

  “Okay, boss. Will do.”

  Simon disconnected with a sigh. Obviously she had gone to stay with her friend, Maddie. She’d be okay there. For now.

  He had never told Kara, but she had been guarded every moment of every day since the incident at the clinic had occurred. Hoffman’s team ran in shifts, always watching, always ready. The police had never caught the junkies who had shot at her and robbed the clinic, and Simon wasn’t willing to take any chances. Kara had seen their faces, had helped with composite drawings. Until the assholes were caught, she needed to be safe. Simon needed to know that she would be okay.

  Every instinct, every cell in his body was screaming at him to go after her, to drag her back over his shoulder if necessary. He wanted to, but he couldn’t win her over that way. The incident with Sam had obviously upset her. Giving her some time would help. Hauling her back would only settle the problem for a short time, and Simon wasn’t in this for the short haul. He needed Kara, had to have her forever. Anything less was unthinkable.

  If someone had told him several weeks ago that he would meet a woman he couldn’t live without, he would have laughed until his ribs hurt. But he wasn’t laughing now. Kara had become his life, and he couldn’t even think about going on without her.

  What kind of life had he lived before her? As he thought about all of the women he had fucked in the past, he frowned. Women who had to get half-drunk and be offered expensive gifts, just to give their bodies to him. They had been empty experiences, women who tolerated him for his money. They may have temporarily satisfied his urge to get off, but they had left him with a huge emptiness that he had never even thought about before he met Kara. Now that he knew what it felt like to be with a woman who actually wanted him, he acknowledged that he could never go back. He needed Kara as much as he needed the air that he breathed. God knew, he didn’t deserve her, but he would have her.

  Forcing himself to his bedroom, he stripped out of his clothes and headed for the bed. Turning around abruptly, he headed back to the pile of clothing on the floor and fished in the pocket of his pants. Pulling out the coin that Kara had given him, he kept it in his grasp and slid into bed, not sure if he could even sleep, but longing for some sort of oblivion.

  Having Kara gone was the ultimate torture. The house was too quiet, too empty. Her presence had been palpable since she had first arrived and now he could feel only the ghost of her essence, echoes of her laugh.

  Sliding the coin under his pillow, Simon flopped onto his back, already restless. He prayed for sleep to take him away…but God must have been busy because he lay awake most of the night, trying to decide the best way to get Kara back.

  He would get her back. That was the only option. It was just a matter of figuring out how to accomplish his goal.

  Dawn was breaking before he slipped into a troubled sleep, visions of Kara tormenting him in his dreams.

  Chapter Eight

  Kara pulled the heavy wooden door of the restaurant manager’s office closed behind her and leaned against it with a heavy, broken sigh. It was her eleventh interview in the last ten days, all of which had been a complete waste of time, and this one hadn’t gone any better. No one wanted to hire a student who was only a few months away from graduation. No restaurant wanted a waitress who was likely to leave within six months for a position in her chosen profession. While Kara couldn’t blame the prospective employers for their judgment, she really needed a freaking job.

  The familiar sounds of clanging dishes, barking cooks, and sharp-tongued servers filtered through her mind as she took yet another walk of shame through the back halls of another restaurant that wasn’t willing to take her on as even a part-time employee.

  Okay, it wasn’t as if she would starve. She still had ten grand in her bank account, the loan she had given herself from Simon. Biting her lip as the pain of thinking about him crashed over her, she exited the main door of the restaurant, letting herself lean against the cool brick exterior to gather her thoughts after the disastrous interview.

  Actually, she had more than ten thousand dollars in her account. Nine days ago, on her birthday, Simon had sent several delivery men and a messenger to Maddie’s home with all of the items that she had left behind. The delivery guys had been loaded with her belongings, all of which had been purchased by Simon, and the messenger came bearing several dozen red roses and an envelope with a note.

  Kara,

  I am returning your check. Please accept the money as a birthday present from me and don’t fight with the delivery people. They have been instructed to put the items wherever you want them or leave them on the doorstep. As they work for me, they will follow instructions.

  I’m sorry about what happened with Sam. Please come home.

  Happy Birthday. I wish we could spend it together.

  Yours,

  Simon

  Kara choked back a sob and rubbed unconsciously at her upper thigh, feeling the stiff paper of his note that was resting in her front pocket.

  I’m going to have to talk to him.

  Kara had hoped that giving herself a little time might help her feel more grounded, less mired in depression. But it wasn’t working. Every day she didn’t see Simon seemed like an eternity, and she was just fooling herself if she thought that a week or two would help her get over her longing for him. If anything, she sank deeper into the darkness as each day passed.

  I have to talk to him. Make him take my check. Work out terms to repay what I borrowed. Return the things he bought.

  She had bawled like a baby when she had turned on the laptop he had given her and realized that Simon had downloaded every game that she had ever played on his computer lab. Myth World-both games-had been first on the list.

  Wiping furiously at an escaped tear rolling down her cheek, Kara knew she had to stop mooning over Simon Hudson; she just wasn’t sure how to do it. The silly, thoughtful things that he did, such as taking the time to download all of those games, tugged at her heart. Then, she would remember the sight of the blonde supermodel on Sam’s porch pulling Simon’s lips to hers and she’d be pissed all over again. How could any man be so thoughtful, yet be such a dog when it came to women?

  “Hello, Kara.” A deep, rumbling voice sounded right next to her. Her eyes jerked up to discover Sam Hudson leaning a shoulder against the wall next to her. Instinctively, she backed up several steps, putting distance between her and a man she didn’t like or trust.

  Sam advanced, but left space between the two of them.

  “What do you want?” Her tone was sharp and she put her hand up to stop him from coming any closer.

  He raised his eyebrow at her defensive move. “I just want to talk.” He looked as arrogant as he had at the party, even dressed in casual jeans and a black t-shirt, but there was a thread of remorse running through his wor
ds, and his green eyes were clear and bright. “Please.” That addition actually sounded painful coming from Sam, as though he had to force it from his throat.

  “I don’t know you and I have nothing to say,” she snipped at him, eager to get away. The last thing she wanted was to chat with Sam Hudson.

  “I’m not going away until you talk to me, so you might as well do it now.”

  Kara wanted to stomp her foot in frustration, but she wouldn’t give Sam the satisfaction. “Just say whatever it is you have to say and leave.”

  He motioned toward the restaurant door. “I could use a cup of coffee. It’s been a long day.”

  She shook her head. “I just interviewed there. I really don’t want to go back in there.”

  He waved to the eatery across the street. “We can go there.”

  Rolling her eyes, she answered, “Been there, done that one, too. There isn’t a place in this neighborhood where I haven’t interviewed.”

  Taking her arm lightly, Sam led her into the fast-food place next door. She jerked her arm out of his hold, but followed behind him. It was obvious that she needed to let him have his say or he wouldn’t leave her alone. He had the same stubborn, Hudson male look that Simon got whenever he wasn’t going to budge until she relented or compromised.

  They both ordered a coffee from the front counter and Sam took a small booth in the corner. She stalled, loading her coffee at a side table with cream and sugar before joining him. Fingering the disposable cup, she finally looked up to find Sam watching her with the intensity of a hawk ready to swoop down on its prey. Squirming and uncomfortable, she still refused to look away. Sam’s gaze wasn’t sexual. It was as though he was trying to examine a perplexing microbe underneath a magnifying glass. If he wanted to do some intensive search of her personality…so be it. It wasn’t as if she had done anything wrong, except fall in love with Simon Hudson.

  Interestingly enough, Sam caved in first. “I’m sorry.” He diverted his eyes as he muttered the statement. It was sincere, but she could tell it wasn’t something this man said very often. “That was a shitty thing I did at Simon’s birthday party. I was so drunk I could barely stand, but that isn’t an excuse. A man needs to be responsible for his actions, drunk or not.”