by C. J. Corbin
Revealing Destiny
C. J. CORBIN
THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. NAMES, CHARACTERS, ORGANIZATIONS, PLACES, BRANDS, MEDIA, AND EVENTS PORTRAYED IN THIS STORY ARE EITHER PRODUCTS OF THE AUTHOR'S IMAGINATION OR ARE USED FICTITIOUSLY. THE AUTHOR ACKNOWLEDGES TRADEMARKED STATUS AND TRADEMARK OWNERS OF VARIOUS PRODUCTS REFERENCED IN THIS WORK OF FICTION, WHICH HAVE BEEN USED WITHOUT PERMISSION. THE PUBLICATION/USE OF THESE TRADEMARKS IS NOT AUTHORIZED, ASSOCIATED WITH, OR SPONSORED BY THE TRADEMARK OWNERS.
Copyright © 2015 Christiane J. Corbin
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without the prior written permission from the author, except that brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews are permitted.
Cover design by Scarlett Rugers
DEDICATION
To Mary Ann Hickok and Cherlene Walmsley
thank you for keeping the faith
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Laissez les bon temps roulette...
Thank you to my girls, Nancy Merola, Robin Walker, and Jennifer Sizemore, your friendship and love made a tough journey easier by always knowing you'd be there if I needed you.
Jennifer and Robert Seneff, thank you for showing me that love, passion, and adoration doesn't end at "I do."
My wonderful editor, Juli Valenti deserves my never-ending gratitude. Thank you for making my words flow smoother than ever.
Scarlett Rugers, my cover designer gave my kernel of an idea mystery and sparkle. Thank you for a fabulous cover.
My sweet prepublication readers who volunteered their time and energy are Cherlene Walmsley, Mary Ann Hickok, Angela Dobson, Krystie Sojourner, Nancy Merola, Robin Walker, Cara Davidson, Juliette Loft, Kelly Selfridge, Francesca Pridham, and Cheryl Baptiste. Thank you.
Thank you to Don Ayala for checking my New Orleans flavor.
Congratulations to contest winners Wendy Elsken and Raven Jay Taylor. Thank you for lending your names.
To the San Diego Chapter of the Romance Writers of America,
your inspiration pushed me to completion.
Thank you to my dad, Bill Corbin. Your unwavering belief in me continues to propel me to new heights and aspirations.
And, to my sister Kim Keleman, the adventure is only beginning.
Let the good times role...
ALSO BY C. J. CORBIN
EAGLE'S DESTINY
LOVE'S DESTINY (coming soon)
A NOTE TO THE READER
Of all the questions I am asked about Eagle's Destiny, the one that pops up the most is, "Where is Mintock, California? Is it real?"
No, Mintock is completely in my imagination. Centered close to the northern California wine region of Napa Valley, Sonoma, and Clear Lake, it takes on the characteristics of that region. As bald eagles are reintroduced into California, it is not unlikely that such a place would exist. I certainly see it very clearly.
Wildlife conservation was an important theme in Eagle's Destiny and continues to be in Revealing Destiny. I invite you to visit the San Diego Zoo's Wildlife Conservancy website (www.endextinction.org) to further study the plight of polar bears. The LIDAR mentioned in this book exists today and scientists are actively using it to map the dens of polar bears.
I invite you to visit my website (CJCorbin.com) for news on the latest happenings about the Destiny series, and while you're there, click on my pinterest link, where I keep a collection of images that are inspired by the series.
I've also been asked about the music that I listen to while I write. Snow Patrol and Tired Pony are always on repeat as is Christina Perri. Her song, Arms, is the unofficial theme song of this book.
I hope you enjoy this second book in the Destiny series and yes, the next one is on the way!
C. J. Corbin
"I breathe, but I can't catch my breath." John Unger
CHAPTER ONE
Fury filled his eyes. His face was red with anger as he shoved the knife into my shoulder. Anger? Hate. It was pure hate. What had I done to him to make him hate me? I couldn't think; I couldn't breathe. The pain sliced through me.
I woke with a scream, thrashing against the arms that held me.
"Let me go!" A sob choked my voice. "No!"
"Elizabeth, it's me! You're dreaming," a deep and comforting tone called out to me. It was Michael, my Michael. Thank God he was here.
"Baby?" His hand rubbed my back in soothing strokes. "You're okay. I'm here."
Cupping my chin with strong masculine fingers, he tilted my face up to look at him. Even in the dark, I could see concern in his sky blue eyes. I pressed my damp forehead against the dusting of whiskers on his cheek.
"Michael," I gasped his name.
"Was it the same nightmare? Kevin stabbing you?" he asked gently. At the mention of my ex-husband's name, I shuddered in his arms.
"Yes," I whispered.
I’d been having the same nightmare for the past month, always ending the same way. The ugly red scar on my shoulder proved that, unfortunately, the hellish nightmare was reality.
He wrapped me tighter in his protective embrace. "I'm here, baby. He won't ever hurt you again. Do you think you can go back to sleep or do want some tea?"
Tea. Michael's answer to stress.
"No. I'll fall back asleep. I'm sorry I woke you."
"It's what I'm here for – we’re in this together," he murmured and rolled onto his back, smoothly pulling me down with him.
I rested my head on his chest and reveled at his hard body. Idly stroking his chest, my hand roamed down to his defined abdomen, the only sound in the room the soft rain from outside. His fingers lightly brushed against my back, and moved lower, all the while making seductive circles. His touch sent serious sparks to my core, heating the flame of desire he could always elicit from me. My caresses moved south, too, to the soft trail of hair below his navel.
His arm moved as he placed his hand over mine, interlacing his fingers with mine. Softly he murmured, “Elizabeth, aren't you trying to sleep?”
I lifted my head to gaze at him and inched my way up his tall muscled frame until I could snuggle into his broad shoulder.
“It’s raining,” I whispered back as if that would be a suitable explanation.
He shifted to look at me. “So it is, and my question again is, why aren't you trying to sleep?”
He kissed my finger as I ran it against his soft, lush lips. “I’m listening to the rain.”
Michael sighed and smiled. “What am I going to do with you, babe? You need to sleep.”
"I need you more." I leaned over and softly kissed his mouth. My tongue traced a line down his square jaw and I nipped at his whiskers while they prickled my lips and nose. My hand found his happy trail once more, moving down to the tip of his quickly growing erection brushing against me.
He was my refuge after the nightmares. His hands and mouth on my body gave me comfort, made me feel secure.
Michael understood my intentions immediately. “Come here, my little Hellcat.” His voice was seductive as he gently pushed me onto my back, returning my kisses and claiming my mouth with a silky touch of his tongue. “You are not going to let me get any sleep, are you?” he asked with mock resignation, his lips hovering close to mine.
I giggled wickedly, kneading the bunching muscles of his shoulders as his mouth began its intoxicating exploration of my body.
“You better get used to losing sleep at night,” I teased, my breathing started to roughen. "Let's begin practicing now."
"Don't forget I've done this no sleeping thing twice before," he murmured as he slowly drove me out of my mind.
CHAPTER TWO
The next morning, I woke up with the spot beside me empty. Figuring that Michael was on his morning
jog, I remained in bed, trying to bolster my courage. I knew when my feet hit the floor a wave of nausea would strike.
Placing a hand on my abdomen, my smile broadened - at six weeks it was too early for a baby bump but the connection was there nonetheless. My little Muffin. Inhaling deeply, I swung my feet over to the floor. Sure enough, as soon as I stood, queasiness made me run for the bathroom. I barely had the toilet lid up before I heaved, retching miserably.
Sitting on the rim of the cold tub and wiping my mouth with a hand towel, I waited for the second round to come. I grasped the towel tightly, making my knuckles white. I now knew after the second purge, I would feel fine.
“Babe?” The question accompanied a small knock on the door.
“Don’t come in, I’m getting sick,” I called out as I leaned over the toilet once more.
I gripped the seat cover firmly and felt Michael's warm hands on my back. While I heaved, he wound a hand into my waist-length auburn hair, holding it out of the way. As quickly as it came, it finished. I straightened stiffly and Michael pulled me into his arms.
My head fit easily on his shoulder as I pressed myself against his long muscular body. At six-foot-four, Michael had a way of making me feel petite, which was no small feat since I was just an inch shy of six foot myself. He was pleasantly shirtless and I ran my fingers through the smattering of tawny-gold hair on his chest that matched the soft wavy hair on his head. He wore sweat pants slung low on his hips, the way I liked, which showed his happy trail extending from his belly button downward.
His hands caressed my back, eventually coming to rest on my naked bottom and he squeezed. “I’m sorry you have to go through this, baby.”
I kissed his neck softly and looked him straight in his worried eyes. “It’s okay. It comes and goes quickly and so far hasn’t bothered me during the day.” Then I quipped, “And, I’m really hungry afterward, too!”
“I’m glad you're hungry, breakfast is ready. Do you want to eat it in bed or come into the kitchen?”
“Oh, you’ve already made breakfast? Didn’t you go jogging this morning?” I asked, slipping on my robe before I rinsed my mouth with cold water.
“I thought we could run together with the dogs after breakfast.” As Michael mentioned the dogs, Max’s nose appeared from around the door, followed by his big bushy tail, which was wagging furiously. We were a blended family, his and mine. My two cocker spaniels, Topper and Samantha, and his two dogs, Max and Molly, who were mixtures of terrier and German Shepherd, made up the four-legged types in charge of the house.
I laughed as I petted Max under the chin. “Come on then, lead the way to breakfast. I’m starved.”
As soon as we got into the kitchen, I wrinkled my nose with distaste when I saw the two bowls of oatmeal sitting on the table. Blech, I hated oatmeal - I was not going to eat oatmeal. I opened the refrigerator and rummaged around.
“What are you looking for?” Michael asked as he poured orange juice into two glasses.
"Isn’t there some leftover streusel coffee cake from Debi?”
“Babe, you don’t want to eat coffee cake for breakfast. Look, I put nuts and dried fruit in the oatmeal.”
I wrinkled my nose again. “I don’t like oatmeal. Besides, there is nothing wrong with coffee cake.”
Michael was a vegetarian and, although he didn’t insist his two daughters or I follow his eating routine, he was still adamant about the type of food he wanted in the house. This meant we purchased our eggs from a local farmer who raised free-range chickens. We bought our cheese and meats from companies certified in the humane treatment of animals, and all our fruits and vegetables were organically grown. That suited me fine because he normally did all the cooking, anyway. I was cooking impaired.
“Just try it for me, please?” He looked at me with his blue puppy dog eyes, the very ones I could never say no to.
I frowned and grabbed the Greek yogurt and honey before closing the refrigerator. “Oh, alright. Don’t think pregnancy will make me eat healthy stuff, though.”
We sat down together at the table and he watched me sprinkle a healthy spoonful of brown sugar on top of the oatmeal. I did it not because I had a particular sweet tooth, but more to show him that I was going to be in charge of my own eating routine.
Despite my protests, the first bite of oatmeal was delicious. It was definitely not the same oatmeal my mother made, which always tasted like paste left in the sun to dry. Instead of being flat and mushy, this was nutty in flavor and chewy in texture.
“Okay, I suppose this is good,” I reluctantly admitted as I took another spoonful.
Michael gave me a self-satisfied grin. “It’s called steel-cut. I suppose I shouldn’t tell you it’s full of fiber, protein, and lots of good minerals to make you a healthy pregnant woman.”
I laughed with him as my cell phone rang. “No, don’t tell me it’s healthy. Healthy tastes bad!” Glancing at the phone, Nancy’s name flashed, and I quickly ran my finger over it to answer. “Hi!”
“Good morning! How is my favorite romance author, my best client, and my sweetest friend?” Nancy’s cheery voice greeted me.
“Don’t you sound chipper this morning?” I replied, taking another bite of oatmeal.
“As well I should. How are you feeling? Did the doctor confirm the flu?”
I couldn’t help but giggle. “Turns out it is not quite the flu.”
“Oh?” The alarm in my friend’s voice was unmistakable.
“No, nothing is wrong,” I assured her quickly. “Can I put you on speaker? Michael is here.”
“Oh oh, what’s up, Elizabeth? Are you okay? Yes, put me on speaker. I have news he’ll want to hear, too.”
“Really? What is it?” I asked as I pressed the speaker button and placed the phone on the kitchen table.
“No. You first,” she said.
“You know how I went to the doctor because I was getting sick? I knew it had to be the flu, but it wasn’t.”
“Yes…and?” she interrupted, “Elizabeth, stop being dramatic. This isn’t one of your novels.”
I laughed. “I’m pregnant.”
There was a long silence on the other end of the phone then I heard a little voice. “Oh My God! Elizabeth, are you serious?”
I smiled broadly and looked over at Michael who was grinning too. “Yep. Me, pregnant lady.”
“When? How?”
Chuckling, Michael spoke up. “About six weeks ago, and, as to the how, ask Marcus. I’m sure he’ll be happy to explain it to you.”
“Oh you know what I mean. This is incredible news. Congratulations!”
“And it doesn’t end there, Nancy,” I revealed. “Michael asked me to marry him.”
“I would hope so!”
“Just a minute,” Michael interjected, leaning forward toward the phone. “I asked Elizabeth to marry me before she told me she was pregnant. That is an important order of sequence.”
“Michael, that isn’t important,” Nancy replied. “I’m so happy for both of you!”
“What was your news? Is it something to do with your wedding?” Nancy was due to marry Michael’s best friend Marcus in less than three months.
“Actually this has to do with you and I would have said to open a bottle of champagne, but, due to your condition, maybe some sparkling apple juice will have to do. Triad Productions has just given the green light for the making of Trouble Always Happens.”
I dropped my spoon into the bowl of oatmeal. It made a loud clattering sound as it jumped out of the bowl and came to rest at the edge of the table. “You’re kidding,” I uttered, my voice barely above a whisper. A wide grin grew on my face as Nancy's words sank in. I jumped up from the table, pumping my fist in the air. "Yes!" I shouted with elation and threw my arms around Michael's shoulders.
He laughed and pulled me down into his lap. "Baby, this is great news!" He echoed my excitement
Trouble Always Happens was my first book and part of a suspenseful romance serie
s I’d been writing for the past five years. The production company, after indicating their interest in turning the book into a movie, had first contacted us at the end of last summer. Having already been through the mill once before, I didn’t put much hope into the project. Nonetheless, I had spoken with the screenwriter several times to review parts of the book.
Nancy joined us in our reverie. “This is the real deal, Elizabeth. They have a script they would like you to read. We made sure in the letter of intent you’d have full approval. You should have it today. If there are parts you don’t like, they want you to work with the screenwriter. Triad is anxious to get this kicked off. They’ve already chosen the director, Raven Jay Taylor.”
“Taylor wants to direct the movie? Wow!” He beamed. His big grin and the pride showing on his face made my heart clench, happiness filling me from the inside out. Being able to share my success with him was something I was unable to do with my ex-husband, but it was so easy with Michael.
Nancy continued, “I know, can you believe it? It looks like we’re going to have a lot to celebrate when you come down next month for Mardi Gras.”
“Are you officially in New Orleans now?” I asked. After Nancy’s engagement, she began to move her base of operations from Los Angeles to Marcus’ home.
“Yep, all moved in. It’s a big change, but we’re having fun trying to clear closet space for my clothes. He actually suggested I take over one of the guest bedrooms for my clothes.”
I laughed at the vision of them trying to move Nancy’s belongings into his house. Even though the house was a mansion, Michael had told me Marcus was quite the clotheshorse himself.