Howl For Me

by Sydney Somers, Marie Morin, Marlee Eastman (Romance)

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  New Concepts Publishing

  www.newconceptspublishing.com

  Copyright ©2008 by Sydney Somers, Marie Morin, Marlee Eastman

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  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

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  CONTENTS

  Part I

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  * * * *

  A round robin anthology

  HOWL FOR ME

  By

  Marlee Eastman

  Marie Morin

  Sydney Somers

  © copyright by Sydney Somers, Marie Morin, & Marlee Eastman, July 2008

  Cover Art by Alex DeShanks, July 2008

  ISBN 978-1-60394-209-6

  New Concepts Publishing

  Lake Park, GA 31636

  www.newconceptspublishing.com

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author's imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

  Part I

  Sydney Somers

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter One

  You couldn't ask for a better day in paradise.

  That was Dash Windsor's last thought before his morning went all to hell. He should have known the peaceful silence wouldn't last longer than it took to indulge in a few sips of his coffee. He'd hoped to get a bit more landscaping done before he was needed.

  Behind him his new house was close to being finished. Once the painting was complete he could move from his suite in the resort's main building to a more private spot on the edge of the resort. While he had a great view of the island's coast line from his suite, here the view of the ocean stretched for miles with nothing between him and the water but a private sandy beach.

  But this morning he obviously wasn't going to get to enjoy following the little bit of work he had gotten in with a swim. Not with his cousin's voice carrying over the soft island breeze. He'd heard her well before she rounded the corner and planted her hands on her hips, looking every bit pissed off.

  Recognizing the take no prisoners glint in the same deep brown eyes their family shared, Dash curbed the urge to put the shovel propped against the tree trunk next to him between them.

  Zoe narrowed her eyes. “You're hiding."

  He drained the last of his coffee, refusing to meet Medusa's gaze. “Obviously not well enough."

  "You know that today is the one day you can't go sneaking off."

  "First, seeing as I own this place, I'm well aware things get hectic with people coming and going. And second, seeing as I own this place, I'm pretty sure I can sneak off anytime I feel like it."

  "Well now that I found you, it's back to the pit, slave."

  "I knew I should have followed my gut and never hired family."

  Zoe took the coffee cup from him and handed him the shirt he'd stripped off almost an hour ago. “Hiring me was the best business decision you ever made."

  "I thought that was putting in the pool bar."

  She didn't even bother to glare at him for that one. “We both know you get to come and go a whole lot more with me around."

  Dash snorted. “Yeah, look how well that's turning out."

  "Any day but today."

  "Speaking of which, if you're not down there driving this boat, who is?"

  "Thea's on it."

  Dash groaned. The last time anyone left the sports and event coordinator manning the desk, he had ended up having to compensate more than a dozen guest's extracurricular activities.

  Forced to follow Zoe when he'd rather finish up the backyard, he tried to will away the ache that settled at his brainstem. He sighed. “If Thea gets things messed up...."

  Zoe whipped around so fast he had a hard time avoiding a collision. “Not another word Dash. Or I'll take the day off and you can look after everyone yourself."

  He started to ask if that was a threat or a promise, but the steely determination in her eyes gave him pause. Instead, he settled on, “You wouldn't."

  She arched a brow.

  Deciding the fastest way to get the day over so he could get back to finishing things up here would be to keep quiet, Dash lapsed into a comfortable silence on the walk back.

  The comfortable silence lasted all of thirty seconds.

  "We've got a problem."

  Thea was heading up the path towards them. The blonde was nearly six feet and built like an athlete who trained year round. He knew he'd been lucky to get her on board when the resort opened. Not only did she keep the guests that signed up for the various games occupied, but she looked good in a skimpy swim suit, which also kept the male guests happy.

  Dash stopped. “If you're here, who's overseeing the main desk?"

  "Wes."

  The was no point in containing his groan this time.

  Thea held her arms out. “He came to tell me one of his bartenders had an incident with a guest last night."

  Perfect. Dash could feel his headache start to throb.

  "Plus,” Thea continued, “My tour guide has the hang over from hell and I need someone else to run the route later today."

  "Wonderful. Any other bad news to spring, because I'd rather take it all in now.” The bartender and guest's altercation was hopefully minor if no complaints had come through reception yet. The tour he could do himself if he had to. Letting all the guests see the layout of the island beyond the resort that was at their disposal was a job that had to be done. It was one thing to let them go roaming around but not without making sure everyone had an idea of the terrain. Instincts only go so far in a foreign area.

  "Your painter fell from his ladder this morning and broke his leg."

  Zoe's announcement sliced through Dash's train of thought.

  He blinked. “Why didn't you tell me before?"

  She shrugged. “I was trying to ease you into the turmoil."

  "I've run this place for a few years now. I'm used to turmoil.” Which, unfortunately, was the truth. One didn't own a resort that catered to such a specific clientele without having a number of hiccups beyond those any regular adults only resort might have.

  So much for having his place painted by the end of tomorrow. He would have looked after that himself, too, but being booked to capacity for the last couple weeks hadn't left him any spare time.

  By the time the three of them got back to the main building it looked as though a mutiny was ready to break out. Dash didn't know who looked more relieved to see him, his staff—more specifically Wes—or the guests.

  He nodded to Thea. “Once I'm squared away here, I'll see about the tour."

  She planted a kiss on his cheek. “See Zoe, he's not always a heartless bastard."

  Dash didn't bother to look at Zoe. He could feel her smiling.

  Zoe returned to her station behind the main desk to oversee things without any comment. He knew one would be coming later, though.

  Wes didn't even bother to stop and exchange words. He just looked damn grateful to get out from behind the desk. With a quick wave and mouthing, “beer later,” he headed out the side door.

  Dash thought about following him. Normally the bustle of the resort didn't bother him. He embraced i
t, enjoyed welcoming guests to their small slice of paradise. But today he was thinking about his new place and the fishing pole set just inside the unfinished closet. His first reward when the place was done.

  "Cole called.” Zoe handed him the jotted message. “He called three times yesterday. You didn't call him back, did you?” She reminded him of a teacher chastising a student for running down the hall after being warned a dozen times already.

  "I will."

  "He said it was important."

  "I'll call.” He deliberately put an edge to his voice. Given the way the morning was going, he might as well make it clear he didn't need her attitude, too.

  With a trademark arch of one coppery brow, she turned back to the desk, her patient smile back in place.

  Dash glanced at the note and tucked it into his pocket. He'd give Cole a call once things calmed down in here. A plane was due in less than an hour and more guests would be arriving. Cole was probably calling to confirm his and Harley's reservation for next month.

  After their first trip and Dash's initial determination to keep Harley away from his resort, it was a joke to make sure there were no ‘glitches’ in the resort's computer, an excuse Dash had tried to use to keep magazine reporter, Harley, from learning anything about the resort's guests.

  The sound of breaking glass echoed in the lobby.

  Dash cringed. What else could possible go wrong today?

  * * * *

  The door clicked shut behind her.

  She paused, cocked her head to listen. Her gut clenched, but nothing stirred. She closed her fingers around her keys. This was stupid. This was her home. She would not be scared away by some asshole with ‘possession’ issues. She wasn't about to be told by anyone how to live, what jobs to take, when she could or couldn't go out with her friends.

  He was out of her life.

  So then why did every nerve ending tell her not to move beyond the edge of the door?

  She flicked on the hall light, flooding even the darkest corners of her house's living room and hall with bright light.

  He was gone. Out of her life. Her life.

  Determined, she set her bag by the floor and snatched up the mail that had been slipped through the slot in the door. The distraction gave her something to think about.

  She took four steps down the hall and froze.

  Something wasn't right. Her heart thumped madly in her chest. No visible threat waited to pounce, but she needed to get out.

  She turned around, reaching for the knob. Panic locked her chest with a freezing grip that squeezed the last trickle of air from her lungs. She hated it. Hated the bitter taste of fear that coated her mouth. But she didn't stop moving, didn't stop from gripping the door knob in her damp palm.

  Her hand slipped. She tightened her grip.

  A hand closed over hers.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the fear to abate. Slick and icy, it wrapped around her spine and dug in.

  "Where are you rushing off to? You just got home.” The deep voice resonated in her mind as though he'd yelled it. “Brooke. You weren't running from me, were you?"

  She pressed her lips together. She needed to keep her head, needed to stay focused. She turned around, swallowing the unexpected cry of alarm before it could break past her lips.

  He'd been drinking. The bloodshot eyes and the smell of alcohol on his breath told her as much. But that wasn't what reached in and made her truly frightened.

  The disgusted curl of his lip revealed one tooth that was abnormally pointed, sharp, deadly looking. Something she was sure she'd never seen before. The hand on her arm gripped her harder, nails biting into her skin.

  She winced.

  He grinned at her. The light dancing in his eyes reminded her of a dog's at night. An eerie glow that made him more menacing looking.

  She didn't hesitate another minute and drove her knee into his groin.

  He released her and staggered back, hitting the wall in a crouch.

  She ran past him, heard her shirt tear when he grabbed it to hold onto her. Breathless, she skidded across the floor, snatching the cordless phone from the kitchen base before tearing through the doorway that would lead her to the back door.

  She ran straight into him. To avoid his arms, she backtracked, collided with the table. She screamed. And screamed, her voice no longer paralyzed.

  He backhanded her, and she hit the wall. The rug she was forever cursing when she vacuumed tripped her and she lost her grip on the phone as she went down. The side of her face connected with the dining room chair, but she didn't care, barely registered the pain and the blood that trickled into her mouth as she raked her hands across the floor for leverage.

  He rolled her over and planted his knees on her chest.

  Tears blurred her eyes. Her throat constricted. Her lungs, too, compressed to drag in a large enough gulp of air.

  He slapped his hand over her mouth, cutting off her scream. Someone had to have heard her. Someone had. Her neighbors were too close, someone heard. They had to have.

  "It didn't have to be like this, Brooke. You shouldn't have run. I can't control it when you run. The animal in me likes it too much.” He leaned over her, his eyes wild now, shifting, changing.

  "You shouldn't have run."

  Turbulence jolted Brooke awake, but not soon enough. The images from the nightmare were burned into the back of her eyes and, awake or asleep, she could see them all too clearly.

  She shook her head. Not now. She wouldn't let him inside her head. For far too long she'd let him get to her and, seeing as how she was at least ten thousand feet off the ground, Brooke was pretty certain he was far away from her.

  Where he belonged.

  "Can I get a bottle of water?"

  The passing flight attendant stared at Brooke. Brooke stared back, wondering why the petite brunette was watching her like she had three heads instead of just one.

  Not to mention the rest of the small group of passengers. Since she had stepped on board every glance made her feel like she had some kind of plague. Granted the resort she was headed for was adults only, but she figured more than a fair share of women probably went alone. There were far too many single women in the world to think otherwise.

  Besides, Cole would have mentioned if it was a couples only resort.

  Although, considering he'd been a bit tight lipped about it from the start, maybe he had known. In the beginning they'd been on the same side when Harley had suggested she get away for a while after her psycho ex had somehow escaped transport to another prison, a place she'd happily seen him off to with her testimony following their little altercation.

  An altercation that left her with a nice little scar on the inside of her leg, a concussion, and too many bad memories to let herself dwell on them for long. The bastard had gotten what he deserved and she intended to enjoy every second of this trip just to prove she could.

  Brooke was just glad she hadn't dated Prince Charming for too long before she realized the man had initially disguised the fact that he was a few dozen bricks short of a full load. Of course that hadn't spared her the nice welcome home gift of finding him inside her house after the restraining order had been sworn out.

  Brooke realized the flight attendant was still staring at her.

  "How about we skip the water and just go straight to something with alcohol?"

  This seemed to snap the brunette out of her stupor. With a vague nod she turned and headed back up the isle. The couple seated across the aisle didn't bother to hide the fact that they were staring at her.

  Brooke leaned forward. “Should I ask her for three drinks?"

  They exchanged looks but went back to talking to themselves instead of paying attention to her.

  She could feel the eyes of more than a few other people in the vicinity watching her, even though many probably couldn't see anything other than the top of her head. If not for the seatbelt light clicking on, she would have stood up to ask them what their proble
m was.

  The flight attendant sailed past ... without her drink.

  Well if service at the resort was anything like this, Brooke had the feeling she should have stuck to her guns and refused to tuck tail and run down here in the first place. A resort in Antigua should have been the perfect place to lay low until the authorities tracked James down.

  If they did.

  Brooke didn't want to think about the alternative. And Cole told her she wasn't allowed to worry about it while she was down here. She was to leave it to him. She'd lost track of how many times he and Harley had assured her she just needed to relax and things would get worked out.

  So relax she would. Not more bad nightmares or thinking about James.

  Trouble couldn't find her here.

  * * * *

  "We're sorry, but there seems to be a problem with your reservation."

  Brooke pasted a wider smile on her face. “I think there's been some mistake. I was told by the person who arranged this trip that my reservation was confirmed."

  The coppery redhead on the opposite side of the counter didn't let the polite smile fall one inch. “It seems we've over-booked."

  "I'm sure it's in there somewhere.” After getting a glimpse of the view on the way from the airport to the resort, and thinking about the new camera stashed in her bag, there was no way she was going home now. It might have taken her feet actually hitting the ground for it to sink in how much she needed a break, but that didn't mean she was going to be gently rebuffed.

  "I wish I could say that was the case, but I don't have a room to offer you."

  "That's okay since it wasn't a room that I had booked.” Brooke turned her smile up another watt. “I have a cabin reserved.” The little gingerbread like pictures of the cottage with its own plunge pool had been the selling point for her to give into Cole and Harley.

  Suddenly conscious of not only the people in the line behind her watching her curiously, but also some spread out around the lobby, Brooke leaned towards the desk. “Is there something on my face because ever since I got on the plane people have been staring at me?"

  The redhead shook her head.