by Maggie Marr
“This is Poppy we’re talking about. She’s the first to say that she won’t do commitment.” Charla sighed and put her phone back on the nightstand. “I had the same hope. I wonder how Trevor is?”
“I’m sure not good.” Sadness filtered through Ryan’s eyes. “We men don’t do so well when we truly fall in love and then you abandon us.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips to her nose. “Please don’t ever leave me again.”
Charla’s heart flipped. Was this real? Was this true? Had she just surrendered to the most wonderful man in the world? She put her arms around his neck. “You don’t have to worry about losing your love again.”
A smile spread across Ryan’s face. “I’m pleased that you say so, because I have something for you.” He pulled his hand from his pocket. His eyes met hers. He slid from the bed and onto his knee.
Charla’s throat tightened, and her heart felt as though it might explode. Her hands flew to her lips.
There. In Ryan’s palm lay a box as blue as the Mesquale sky.
“Charla Duvall, you are my other half. The woman who makes me whole. The person I want to spend the rest of my life with.” Ryan opened the top of the box. “Will you be my wife?”
“Yes.” Charla dropped to the floor beside Ryan and threw her arms around her neck. “Oh my God, Ryan, absolutely yes.”
Chapter 20
Trevor opened his eyes. His head throbbed. Thank God Poppy had agreed to wait two more days so that they could go to Hong Kong together. He rolled to his left and stretched out his arm.
Empty bed.
The sheets were cold. He sat up and looked about the room. Army-green backpack? Gone. Red suitcase? Gone.
His heart careened through his chest. She wouldn’t. She couldn’t. Trevor stood. He wrapped the sheet around his hips. How? After last night? How could she leave him? Finally after all these months, after never committing, after him chasing her with words and love notes and coaxing her along as though she a scared rabbit, she’d agreed to be his. To try. To let him go with her.
He’d known in his heart to the depth of his soul that if they traveled together, if she was with him, if only for a while and not at Mesquale, that she would never be able to deny their love. She did love him, and he did love her. Poppy’s fear prevented her from committing.
He picked up his phone. No message. No call. He sat at his desk chair, and his head dropped to his hands. He closed his eyes. His heart might split in two. Shattered. She’d absolutely and unequivocally shredded him. He turned and looked at his desk.
There. Lying on top of his journal was an envelope with his name. He lifted the flap and pulled out the paper. How very dramatic. How very Poppy. Anger started to heat through him. Anger that would mask the pain.
Trevor,
You knew it couldn’t last. That’s me. It’s been well … more than I could ever expect.
Your six-month lover,
x Poppy
He crumpled the note in his hands. How droll. How charming. How nonchalant. He tossed the paper toward the trash, and it bounced against the rim and landed on the floor. She fooled him less than she fooled herself. What did she think she would get by leaving him? An unscarred heart? An effortless existence? A freedom from the possibility of pain?
She would get none of those things. Those things didn’t exist in a world with the absence of love. Only when you embraced the scar, the effort, the pain could you feel the full experience of life. His writer’s heart crumpled under the weight of what he’d just lost, of all that Poppy had just tossed aside due to fear. Of what they wouldn’t share together simply because Poppy was afraid and running from love.
The End
Want to read Trevor & Poppy’s love story? Get …
Running From Love
Look for Running from Love at all major eBook retailers!
About This Series
Thanks for reading Last Call for Love. I hope you enjoyed it! Reviews help other readers find books and I appreciate all reviews, whether positive or negative. Please take a moment and write a review for Last Call for Love.
You’ve just read the fourth book in the Eligible Billionaires Series. The next book in the series is Running from Love, which is coming soon.
I hope you enjoy it as well!
Books in the Eligible Billionaire Series:
Can’t Buy Me Love
One Night for Love
A Christmas Billionaire
Last Call for Love
Running from Love—coming soon
A Forever Love—coming soon
Would you like to know when my next book is available? You can sign up for my new release e-mail list at http://maggiemarr.blogspot.com/p/maggies-newsletter.html.
Follow me on Twitter at : http://twitter.com/maggiemarr, or like my Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/pages/MaggieMarr-Books/168071873226783?ref=ts.
Visit my Website at http://www.maggiemarr.blogspot.com.
You may also enjoy my New Adult Glamour Series.
Hard Glamour
Broken Glamour
Fast Glamour
Easy Glamour
Luxe Glamour
Impossible Glamour – coming soon
Just click the link if you’d like to read an excerpt from the second book in the Eligible Billionaires series, One Night for Love.
Also by Maggie Marr
The Hollywood Girls Club Series
Hollywood Girls Club
Secrets of the Hollywood Girls Club
Hollywood Hit
Hollywood Girls Club the Series
The Eligible Billionaires Series
Can’t Buy Me Love
One Night for Love
A Christmas Billionaire
Last Call for Love
Running from Love – coming soon
A Forever Love – coming soon
The Powder Springs Series
Courting Trouble
The Christmas Wish
The Glamour Series
Hard Glamour
Broken Glamour
Fast Glamour
Easy Glamour
Luxe Glamour
Impossible Glamour – coming soon
About the Author
Maggie Marr is an attorney, author, and producer. She began her career in the entertainment industry pushing the mail cart but rose to the position of motion picture literary agent. She has written for TV, film, and celebrities. Maggie has been featured on KCRW’s The Business and reviewed by Publishers Weekly, Kirkus, and Romantic Times. She lives in LA with her family.
Maggie is eternally grateful for the graciousness and support of her readers.
Please visit her Website at: http://www.maggiemarr.blogspot.com.
Twitter: http://twitter.com/maggiemarr
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/MaggieMarr-Books/168071873226783?ref=ts
Acknowledgements
Thank you to my readers. I would not have this amazing job that I love without you and your support. Thank you to my rockstar agent Kristin Nelson and her entire team at Nelson Literary Agency. Thank you to Lori Bennett, the NLA Digital guru who makes everything digital work. Thank you to Angie Hodapp for her patience and interior design of all my paperbacks. Thank you to Kim Killion for another great cover and the entire vision for the Eligible Billionaires Series covers. Thank you to Sasha Knight, my editor, for her awesome skills. Jennifer Brown, my proofreader, who makes every book shine, thank you. Sarah Altman, virtual assistant extraordinaire, thank you.
Thank you to RWA, LARA, and WFWA, who provide me with information, knowledge, and fabulous friends.
Thank you to my family and friends, especially: Margaret L. Marr, Nancy Veskerna, Lauren Harrison, Gavin White, Nealie White, Linda and Bill Henderson, Lindsy and Mark Henderson, Eloise and Dixie Marr, Gayle Leftwich, Joyce and Tom Leahy, Paula and David Glasscock, Garrett L. Marr, Amy and Brent Zacky, Victoria and Karl Makinen, Sheryl and Steven Ross, Peggy Cafferty, Maria Seager, Beverly Diehl, Kady Ambrose
, Rebekah Ganiere, Debbie Decker, Christine Ashworth, Cami Brite, Chandra Years, Sarah Vance-Tompkins, Julia Blake, Jane Porter, Megan Crane, and Bob.
To my husband and my children, you are the lights in my world that shine through my every darkness and my every doubt. Thank you. I love you.
An Excerpt from One Night for Love
One Night for Love, book two in The Eligible Billionaires Series, now available from Maggie Marr.
Chapter One
“I want it harder,” Prim said. A grunt came from behind her. “God, yes.” Warmth pulsed through Prim’s body. Tingles shot from her spine and into her limbs. “Yes, deeper, deeper.” The warmth in her core puddled. Her muscles loosened. Her eyes closed. She soaked in the pleasure of a strong, hard, touch. To be stroked and kneaded and rubbed.
This was paradise.
“Lady got too much tension in her shoulder.” Layla’s hand supple with oil trailed along the fine vertebrae of Prim’s neck. “Muscles still knotted in here”—her deft fingers pulsed along Prim’s left shoulder—“even after six days of massage.”
Air wooshed from Prim’s lungs. She opened her eyes and stared at the terra cotta tile floor beneath the massage table. What could she say? Even with the sun, surf, and sand she couldn’t forget what she was about to return to in California.
Gargantuan changes and potentially a huge mess of an existence.
“Lady’s lower back is still tight.” Layla’s fingertips fanned out and Prim felt the heat in her core melt. Relaxation oozed through her. “Lady needs to be with a man.”
Prim jerked her head from the circular cushion. “A what?”
“Head down,” Layla pressed on the back of Prim’s head. “A man. Lady, needs to be with a man to release the tension in her body.”
Prim resettled her forehead and cheeks against the cushion. Her sex life, of lack thereof wasn’t something she really wished to discuss with her masseuse. Of course Layla’s hands had kneaded nearly every inch of Prim’s body for the last six days. The massage, each day, was a high point of Prim’s existence at La Meridian Ora at which she’d spent the last six days trying to decompress, relax, and prepare for what she would return to in L.A.
“Thought Lady would find a friend by now,” Layla continued. “Every day I walk up to house and think, this is the morning pretty Lady has no more tension here.” Layla’s thumb dug deep into the muscle of Prim’s left shoulder.
“Oooow,” Prim whined. Layla’s thumb hurt so good.
“Lady is pretty. She is young. She has beautiful body. Not married. No kids. She has private house, private beach at resort.” With each word, Layla rubbed her hands deeper into the muscles of Prim’s back. “She on holiday without man, but plenty of men at resort on holiday without a woman.”
Prim closed her eyes, Layla was beginning to sound more and more like Prim’s mother in London.
“So why, I ask, why has Lady, while she here, not found friend to take care of all the tension in these muscles?” Layla pulled the heavy heated towel up over Prim’s back and took her strong hands and stroked down Prim’s left leg.
“God, yes,” Prim whispered between her teeth.
“You not answer me.” Layla laughed. “Maybe Lady not know answer.”
“Men are pigs.” Prim said. There were two Prim wanted to gut right now.
“You’re not having sex.” Layla said. “I feel it in your muscles. I see it in your joints. Too tight. No sex.”
Prim’s sexual frustration bubbled through her chest and replaced the relaxation that Layla’s hands provided.
“I just haven’t found anyone,” Prim said. “No one that I want to be with.”
“Don’t have to keep the man, just have to use the man. Don’t keep the pig for a pet, just use it for what you need.”
Prim smiled. She liked the way Layla thought.
“Done,” Layla said. She tickled Prim’s right toes. Prim sat up and pulled the sheet around her body.
“Lady leave tomorrow?” Layla asked. She wiped her hands on a towel.
Prim nodded. “Early. I return to work on Monday.”
“Maybe you get lucky tonight. With all the massage your muscles are ready for a man. The heat will explode for you. Maybe you find one at Devils and Angels?”
Prim screwed up her face and shook her head. “Not going.” She slid from the massage table. She grasped the table with her hand. The first few steps, after a massage, were always tough. “Leaving early tomorrow morning, spending the night here.”
Layla’s smile slipped from her face. “Lady must go to Devils and Angels party.” Her grey hair was in a long thick braid. The skin around her eyes was etched with tiny wrinkles but Prim could neither tell Layla’s heritage nor, for certain, her age. She seemed timeless. “Someone you must meet. I feel it in your body.”
Okay. A little too much voodoo with the massage. Prim reached for the envelope she’d prepared and handed it to Layla. “I can’t thank you enough for this week. You’ve made my body feel,” Prim pulled the sheet tighter around her body. “Well you’ve made my body feel better than it has in years.”
“Eighteen months,” Layla said. “It’s been almost eighteen months since you’ve been with a man.”
“How do you-?”
“You still not believe what my fingers feel? I can feel it all in your muscles, in your bones. We carry the body through life and life, it infiltrates all of the body.” Layla said the words as if it all was obvious. “You go tonight. You meet someone take away the tension these hands can’t reach.” Layla reached for her bag of oils and hefted it over her shoulder. “You go.”
“Not going,” Prim said, again, and followed Layla toward the door. “But thank you.”
“You are going,” Layla said a smile plastered to her face. “The man who will take the tension from you will be there. You will find him tonight.”
Prim’s smile remained fixed to her face. Perhaps it was the language barrier. She’d had similar conversations with Layla over the course of the last six days and instead of arguing or trying to explain Prim had simply nodded and smiled. The last one was when Prim emphatically denied that she would go snorkeling but then she….had?
Layla’s smile remained in her lips as she descended the front stairs. She raised her hand and waved over her shoulder. “Lady have fun time tonight. More fun than the last 18 months.”
Prim closed the door behind Layla. She was not going to the party at the resort’s disco tonight. She’d already scheduled an early dinner and she had to pack. Her flight left for Los Angeles early and the car was scheduled to pick her up before sunrise. She walked to the open French doors. The surf pounded the shoreline. A breeze gently lifted her hair from her shoulders. Beautiful. Luxurious. Glorious. Relaxing.
The muscle in her left shoulder tightened. How was that pain happening already? Layla had worked on Prim’s body ninety minutes a day for six days. How could there still be tension in any part of Prim’s body. She reached her hand to her shoulder and rubbed. Because of two men in Los Angeles. Two men that she’d left behind. One a seller and one a buyer who had forever changed the carefully crafted landscape of Prim’s life.
Monday she would return to an office fundamentally changed by the sale of Ryan Murphy’s beloved Metro Media to the near recluse and old codger of a man: William Rhodes. If only Prim’s best friend Meg had managed to convince Cole to buy Metro Media. Prim could be happy working for her best friend’s husband. But Cole didn’t bite. No he was too smart for that. Prim knew the financial details of the deal between her former boss Ryan and her soon-to-be boss Mr. Rhodes, and she was still uncertain how Ryan had managed to get the purchase price he did for Metro. And why would a seventy-year old man who’d made his money in steel suddenly have an interest in a media company?
Prim closed her eyes. A breath of fresh air tinged with salt entered her lungs. She opened her eyes and exhaled. The black rocks on the edge of the shoreline created a protected and private cove for her own enjoyment.
She still had twelve hours of paradise. Twelve hours without the changes that would inhabit her life for the next three months, until she finished her commitment on the transition team and earned her very healthy bonus. She’d heard that proving one’s worth to William Rhodes was a near impossibility. He was one tough customer and an even tougher boss. She’d scoured the knowledge of her former B-school mates trying to determine whether she should tough out the buy-out or leap before the sale. Ryan had begged her to stay and for a guaranteed bonus and a limited engagement of ninety days she’d agreed to remain at Metro Media for a while.
Prim dropped the sheet that she’d wrapped around her body to the ground and stepped out onto the deck. Her beach was private. The resort offered this privacy for an exorbitant fee but Prim had paid it. She’d needed the privacy and the time alone after the shock that she’d just experienced at work. She hadn’t thought Ryan would ever sell his beloved Metro Media. And to retire? Who retired at thirty-three? Even after the tragedy of Paloma’s passing, Prim had thought that Ryan would eventually come back to lead Metro Media. But Ryan wasn’t coming back. Instead he was selling, and he had been more than a little cagey about what he planned to do with all his time and his hundreds of millions.
Prim had needed this privacy to prepare herself. She needed to be alone to think and to process the inevitable changes she’d confront when she returned to work on Monday. Prim stretched her arms up over her head and let the sun warm every inch of her skin. She hadn’t been naked on her beach the entire time she’d been in Tahiti. Not once. But today was the last day. Why not be wild? Why not be free? Why not go to the Devils and Angels party at the disco tonight? After six days of sun, surf, and sand, she deserved to be tension free.
LAST CALL FOR LOVE
Maggie Marr
Copyright © 2015
All Rights Reserved.
978-1-62051-148-0
AGENCY INFORMATION
NLA Digital LLC
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.