No one knew Maxwell’s cruelty better than I did. I snorted. “I can’t believe you stuck with him this long.”
“On paper, he’s quite a catch.” She lifted her chin and shouldered the strap of her purse. “Oh well, it’s all over now.”
“You’re leaving?” I stood, unable to hide my shock.
“There’s no point in staying. He’s just going to be sleeping.” With a shrug, she moved toward the door. “Believe me, he’s not going to care if I’m here or not.” And with those parting words, she disappeared down the hallway.
I stared at the closed door, mulling over what had just happened. The person in the bed beside my chair had been one of the most powerful men on the planet until a few weeks ago. Yet he’d never known love. Maybe that was why he’d been so unsympathetic to my relationship with Sam. In spite of his massive wealth, he couldn’t buy loyalty or affection. He was at his most vulnerable, broken and alone, with no one to come to his aid.
I stayed with him through the surgery. Sam came to the hospital as soon as his plane landed. My heart leaped at the sight of his blond head and broad shoulders as he strode down the hospital corridor. He paused at the nurse’s station to ask for directions. The nurse pointed to where I was standing outside Maxwell’s room. Sam’s eyes met mine. A twitter of excitement surged from my head to my toes. Just like the first time.
Chapter 36
DAKOTA
A WEEK later, I went to the hospital to see Maxwell. I found him in the same private suite, a half dozen nurses hovering about the room. To my surprise, Rayna greeted me with a kiss on each cheek, as if I was a long-lost friend.
“How nice of you to stop by. Look, Maxwell, it’s Dakota.” She placed a hand on his shoulder to get his attention.
Fluffy pillows propped up his thin frame on the mattress. His eyes followed me as I approached. Rayna pulled a chair to the side of his bed, and took Maxwell’s limp hand in hers. One corner of his mouth drooped, and a thin thread of saliva trailed down his chin. A young nurse about my age wiped his face with a damp cloth then patted his shoulder.
“He can understand everything you say,” Rayna said. “And he can write a little bit with his left hand, but his speech center was damaged. He’s going to therapy, but he might never talk again.” She brushed a lock of his silver hair back from his face.
“I thought you were separated.” No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t look away from Maxwell’s eyes. I’d seen that look before from the monkeys at the zoo; trapped, haunted, angry.
“What kind of wife would leave her husband in such a state?” As she spoke, she smoothed her palms over the pale pink linen fabric of her pants. A large double strand of pearls hung to her waist. She leaned forward, lowered her voice to a confidential whisper, and winked. “We’re getting along so much better now.”
Maxwell snorted, drawing my gaze back to his face.
“I just wanted to come by and see how you’re doing,” I said to him.
He blinked in acknowledgment.
“He’s going home today,” Rayna said. “I think he’ll be much more comfortable at home, don’t you? And he’ll have a full staff to take care of all his needs. It’s going to be great.” She patted Maxwell’s hand again. His eyes narrowed at her touch. “I’m going to run to the ladies’ room while you’re here. Do you mind staying for a minute, Dakota?”
“I guess,” I replied, although I wasn’t at all keen to be alone with Maxwell. Even as a disabled, broken man, he still managed to frighten me.
Rayna left. Maxwell and I stared at each other for a minute. I rubbed sweaty palms over the tops of my thighs.
“You’ve always been horrible to me. I don’t know why you hate me so much. All I ever did was love Sam with all my heart,” I said. “But I never wished this on you. I’m sorry this happened.” He blinked twice in acknowledgment. “No one deserves to live like this.” I bit my lower lip and waited while another nurse wheeled in a cart.
“It’s time to replace your catheter, Mr. Seaforth.”
He groaned, misery evident in the deepened lines of his face.
“Well, I’ll get out of here.” I stood to leave, but Maxwell lifted his good hand in the air and waggled his fingers.
“I think he wants to tell you something,” the nurse said. She took a pad of paper from the desk and wrapped Maxwell’s fingers around an ink pen. With slow, laborious strokes, he scrawled on the paper. The nurse frowned then handed the paper to me. “That’s weird. Do you know what that means?”
I turned the paper right side up and stared at the two words: You win.
EPILOGUE
DAKOTA
ON A cool fall afternoon, I went to lunch with Muriel and Xavier. We chose a small pub with an enticing lunch special a few blocks down the street. After our meal, we walked back to work. A black limousine idled at the curb in front of the building.
“Must be somebody important,” Muriel said. She held a hand over her eyes to shade them from the sun.
“What?” I’d been digging in my purse for my lipstick. I stumbled over a crack in the sidewalk, and half the contents of my purse spilled onto the concrete.
“Hey. You dropped this.” The deep timbre of the voice at my shoulder was unmistakable. A large hand snaked into my line of sight, tanned fingers clasping my office keys and a tube of lipstick. “I think that’s everything.”
“Thanks.” I took the items from Samuel’s hand and squinted up at him. With the afternoon sun behind him, his blond hair glowed around his head. He wore a black T-shirt, jeans, and boots. Something was different about him though, something I couldn’t put a finger on.
“I know you, don’t I?” he asked, a humorous lilt to his voice.
Suddenly, I was taken back to a fall day years ago when the hottest guy in high school stopped to help me gather the papers I’d dropped. By the gleam in his eyes, he remembered too. I knew this game. I bit back a smile and tried to look stern. “I’m in three of your classes,” I said. “You sit right in front of me.”
“Crockett’s sister, right?”
“Dakota,” I corrected.
He snapped his fingers and nodded. “Right. Dakota.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and continued to walk beside me. I felt the weight of his gaze travel over me. All those same feelings came flooding back—the anxiety, the nerves, the unpredictable flutter of butterflies in my belly. “Come on. I’ll give you a ride home.” A slow smile widened his mouth. The expression transformed his face from aloof to warm and playful. I glanced at the office building, uncertain. He dipped his mouth to my ear. “Just play along.” He took my elbow and guided me toward the limousine. “Come on. I’ve got something to show you.”
“But—”
“No buts.” He lifted a warning eyebrow before turning to Xavier. “And you’ve got the rest of the day off. They’re expecting you at the Mercedes dealership to pick out your new car.”
“What?” Xavier’s chin dropped. “Don’t play with me.”
Sam’s grin washed over me like warm sunshine. This was why I loved him so much, these unexpected gestures of kindness. “Hurry up before I change my mind and put you back to work.”
Xavier lifted a hand, his face alight with excitement. “Say no more. I’m out of here.”
Rockwell opened the door to the limo and offered his hand to help me inside. Samuel settled into the seat next to me. In the confines of the car, I could smell his cologne, a mixture of spice and soap. Goosebumps prickled along my arms when one of his knees bumped against mine. His hands rested on the tops of his thighs, fingers splayed.
“You want to tell me what’s going on?” I asked.
He shook his head and said nothing.
The car pulled away from the curve and merged smoothly into traffic. Rockwell’s eyes met mine in the rearview mirror and then he lifted the partition, leaving me in privacy with my husband. Sam stared at me, his mouth bowed upward, curling at the corners. I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed his smiles and the vi
vid emerald hue of his eyes.
“Really? Not even a hint?” I asked.
He leaned forward as if about to reveal a devastating secret. “I can’t tell you, but I can show you.”
The limousine turned down the dirt road at the edge of town and stopped. I recognized the forest thick with aged trees and heavy underbrush, but a decorative wood fence replaced the razor wire fence from my youth.
I glanced at Sam for reassurance. He cocked an eyebrow.
“Do you remember?” he asked.
“Of course.” My voice cracked on the words. This was the very first place that Sam and I had been alone together as teenagers, before we’d fallen in love. I remembered the way my heart had thudded against my chest when he’d taken my hand, the way my skin had heated every time he’d touched me, and the dull ache between my legs from his nearness.
His fingers remained threaded through mine. The pad of his thumb swept across the back of my hand. Everything south of my tummy clenched at his warm, proprietary touch.
Rockwell eased the car down a gravel lane. We emerged into a circular clearing. Sunlight shafted through the trees, heating my skin. I flattened a hand over my eyes to cut the glare and squeaked in surprise. The abandoned house stood in front of us, the one Samuel’s great-great-grandfather had built, but it was an entirely refurbished home. Fresh white paint covered the wood scrollwork trim. Ivy clung to the brick walls and climbed the pillars of the porch. Rays of light reflected off pristine window panes.
“Oh my goodness.” As soon as the car stopped, I jumped out, pulling Sam with me. The scents of damp earth and azaleas drifted on the air around us, reminders of teenage love and the innocence of youth. I turned to look at Sam, searching for answers.
“Happy anniversary, baby,” he said.
In the midst of the summer’s drama, I’d forgotten our anniversary. I pressed a hand to my lips. “I’m so sorry. I forgot.”
He pulled me into his chest and hugged me tight. “It’s okay.”
I hugged him back then turned to stare up at the three stories of restored brick in front of us. “I don’t understand. How did you do this?”
“I bought it from Maxwell a few years after we divorced. He was going to have it torn down, and my mother talked him into selling it to me. It was one of the last things she did before she died.” He stared at the house.
My chest began to ache with the buildup of memories and nostalgia. “Can we go inside?”
“Sure.” Another one of Sam’s slow smiles warmed me. He took the front steps two at a time, opened the front door, and swept a hand to invite me inside.
The house smelled of furniture polish and roses. Hardwood floors gleamed and contrasted with brilliant white plaster walls. The wide staircase swept through the foyer and curved to the second-floor landing. The crystals of the chandelier cast prisms of light on the walls. I trailed a finger over the newel post at the foot of the stairs, while Samuel watched from the center of the room. The weight of his gaze followed me as I peered in doors and hallways.
“Why did you do this? You said it would take a fortune to restore,” I asked.
Samuel shrugged. “After we divorced, I used to come here and think. This place reminded me of you. I could close my eyes and smell you, pretend you were here with me. It kept your memory alive for me. All those years, I tried to forget, but five minutes here brought everything back.”
We’d circled the ground floor and arrived back at the staircase. I stood on the lower step, which put me at eye level with Samuel. Twelve years ago, I’d stood in this identical place with him. He stopped in front of me, inches away, and met my gaze. That same jolt of attraction, alive and pulsating, zinged between us, hitting me like a thunderbolt deep in my belly, deeper between my legs. His focus dipped to my lips. For a second, I forgot to breathe. In a heartbeat, we were seventeen years old again. I was the daughter of his cook, and he was the unattainable high school stud.
“Do you like it?” he asked. His voice vibrated with hope.
“I love it,” I said and placed my hands on his chest. “Almost as much as I love you.”
“Shelby’s been in charge of the remodel, and Venetia did the interior.” His chest lifted and fell with a soft sigh then cast a sideways glance in my direction. “I want this to be our retreat, a place to bring our kids—if we have any—and to recharge our batteries on the weekends.”
“I can’t believe you did this.” The sting of tears blurred my sight. I swallowed against the thick lump of emotion in my throat.
“I did it for you, baby. Always for you.” His fingers slid through mine before pressing my palm against his heart. “For us.”
THE END
Before You Go
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Felony Romance Series
Intoxicated
Unexpected
Vindicated
Impulsive
Drift
Pretty Broken Series
Pretty Broken Girl
Pretty Filthy Lies
Pretty Dirty Secrets
Pretty Wild Thing
Pretty Broken Promises
Published by Ishkadiddle Publishing
Copyright 2017. Jeana E. Mann Author.
Cover by Ishkadiddle Publishing
Edited by Rhonda Stapleton
Ebook
ISBN-10: 1-943938-07-5
ISBN-13: 978-1-943938-07-0
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. To obtain permission to excerpt portions of the text, please contact the author at [email protected]
All characters and events in this book are fiction and figments of the author’s imagination. Any similarity to real persons, alive or deceased, is purely coincidental.
www.jeanaemann.net
Jeana Mann is the author of sizzling hot contemporary romance. Her debut release Intoxicated was a First Place Winner of the 2013 Cleveland Rocks Romance Contest, a finalist in the Carolyn Readers’ Choice Awards, and fourth place winner in the International Digital Awards. She is a member of Romance Writers’ of America (RWA).
Jeana was born and raised in Indiana where she lives today with her two crazy rat terriers Mildred and Mabel. She graduated from Indiana University with a degree in Speech and Hearing, something totally unrelated to writing. When she’s not busy dreaming up steamy romance novels, she loves to travel anywhere and everywhere. Over the years she climbed the ruins of Chichen Iza in Mexico, snorkeled along the shores of Hawaii, driven the track at the Indy 500, sailed around Jamaica, ate gelato on the steps of the Pantheon in Rome, and explored the ancient city of Pompeii. More important than the places she’s been are the people she has met along the way.
Be sure to connect with Jeana on Facebook or follow along on Twitter for the latest news regarding her upcoming releases.
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Pretty Broken Promises: An Unconventional Love Story Page 17