Red Hot Lovers: 18 Contemporary Romance Books of Love, Passion, and Sexy Heroes by Your Favorite Top-Selling Authors

by Milly Taiden

  Officer Guillory stopped in mid-stride and dropped his head back to look at the clear, starry sky. Twenty days. He had twenty days until retirement. Was he really going to find a way to close the Sheffield case before he left the force?

  “You’re sure, Johnny? It’s her?”

  Johnny laughed, a harsh, gravelly sound. A remnant of all the cigarettes Pollard used to smoke. “Hell, yes, I’m sure. I found her. Baby, husband and all.”

  ***

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  The marriage didn’t take place the day after Hope’s package arrived from Mark, but within ten days, they were Mr. and Mrs. Brennan Rawley. Brennan’s Uncle James arranged for the minister and also for the conveniently “lost” marriage certificate. In order to relieve Hope’s worry, it was decided the marriage certificate wouldn’t be recorded into the public record.

  Although the threesome – Hope, Brennan and Michelle – were living in the cottage, they spent their days at the manor as often as not. Uncle James and Jeremy would be leaving toward the end of spring to spend the summer months attending to estate matters in Durma, so the family decided to enjoy as much of the time together as possible.

  They settled into a steady routine, but Hope found herself plagued with short bouts of melancholy. Brennan’s new family reminded her how much she missed her own. She hoped her mother and father were coping with her absence as best they could. She knew her father would be terribly disappointed to have missed her wedding, and her mother would worry about her no matter what.

  Today, Meg and Hope returned from a short shopping trip to find Brennan with both of Meg’s boys and Michelle in the game room. Hope stopped short to watch them and shook her head when she realized he was explaining to all of the children about Gary Cooper in High Noon.

  “Haha,” he said. “It’s the pol-it-icians fault. Grandpa hates pol-it-icians.” The oldest boy Jareth pronounced the longer word slowly and with deliberation. Standing beside Bren, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor, he had one little hand clasped on Brennan’s shoulder while the other tugged at his own curly blond locks. “But why don’t nobody help him?”

  “Why doesn’t anybody,” Bren corrected gently and Hope felt her cheeks flush with love as she listened. “The people of the town were scared. They thought if they just kept quiet and got Will out of town that they could deal with those baddies without any trouble. Will stood up for everyone. The townsfolk, himself and his wife. Hey, and would you believe in real life she was an honest-to-goodness princess?”

  “A pwincess?” Jenson, the younger murmured in awe from his spot in Brennan’s lap.

  Michelle cooed and gurgled happily in her spot just in front of them, every so often glancing at the television when she wasn’t playing with her chubby feet.

  “He’s such a good man. And a loving father.” Meg spoke softly, coming to stand beside her.

  “You think so?”

  “Oh, of course. You wouldn’t even know she isn’t his own child. Do you and Bren plan to have children of your own?”

  Hope didn't answer for many moments, then unable to withhold any longer, she peered behind into Meg’s eyes with her face aglow. “Actually—”

  Meg's mouth dropped. “Oh, Sealla, that's wonderful! I don't know how Brennan has kept it from Jeremy, as much time as they spend together now.”

  Hope’s eyes widened and she placed a hand to Meg’s mouth. “Shhhh. Bren doesn't know yet.”

  “Why not?” She understood the other woman’s words even though her fingers still covered her lips.

  “I just haven't known how to tell him. I don't know if he wants a child. I mean, one of his own.” She dropped her arms to her side with shoulders drooping.

  “But Nichole is his own, Sealla. Haven't you seen the way he looks at her? Even when she's screaming the chandeliers from the ceilings, his eyes are full of love. Fatherly love.”

  Hope shook her head.

  “Good morning,” said Jeremy as he entered the room.

  Brennan looked back at all of them, only just noticing they were in the room.

  “Hey gorgeous,” he said to Hope. “Look, Mommy’s here.”

  That was when Hope burst into tears and turned to leave the room. It only took a few moments for Brennan to catch up with her, pulling her into the formal living area.

  Nausea flooded her senses, and everything suddenly began to spin around her. Brennan caught her before she fell over.

  “Baby, what's wrong?” he murmured, his eyes wide with concern. “Please, tell me what's wrong.”

  Hope gasped for a breath and brushed her hair back from her face as she waited for her stomach to settle.

  “For the love of God, Hope—”

  “We're going to have a baby,” she blurted out, and sighed in relief for having finally told him.

  “Oh—” he said in astonishment.

  Hope searched his eyes for a clue to his thoughts, and when he suddenly chuckled, she frowned. “You're okay with that?” she asked.

  “Okay? Of course. You didn't think I would be?”

  She shrugged and shook her head.

  “I have to tell Uncle James. Aw, hell, are you all right? Did you almost faint?”

  “I didn't faint,” she scoffed. “I just got dizzy. Now go tell your uncle, and I'll talk to Meg and Jeremy.”

  “Why don't we tell everyone together?”

  “Just go tell your uncle,” she smiled and ushered him off as she met Jeremy and Meg waiting for them in the hallway, Michelle in Jeremy’s arms and the two boys watching curiously.

  “Did you tell him?” Meg asked.

  Jeremy's frown became more intense. “Tell him what?”

  “Yes, I told him, but he doesn't know I told you first so, just keep it to yourself, okay?”

  “Could someone please tell me?” Meg's husband said in exasperation.

  “We're having a baby,” Hope beamed.

  “That tends to be the result when two people get married,” the man said with his nose in the air.

  “Jeremy—” Meg hit him in the stomach with the back of her hand.

  A grin finally broke through, and he chuckled. “I'm thrilled, Hope, really. I've come to think of you both as family.”

  “'Bout time,” Hope said straight-faced then turned on her heel to go after her husband.

  *

  That evening Hope was sitting alone in their bedroom writing a letter to Mark when she heard Brennan come in with Michelle sleeping against his chest. She leaned back in her chair and watched him toss a blanket onto their bed, then tip-toe back to her nursery.

  “How was she? Did she eat all of the carrots?” Hope asked him when he returned, turning on the baby monitor.

  “She loved them. She must get that from you. I hate carrots.”

  Hope wondered if he knew what he had just said or had he meant it only as a jest. She knew that at times it was easy to forget that Michelle was not their biological child. With sleep-laden eyes, she stood and went to him, allowing him to wrap her in his arms.

  “Are you feeling all right?” he asked her, caressing her hair.

  “Just a little tired,” she sighed. “Are you really happy about the baby, Bren?”

  Taking her shoulders, he held her out in front of him to look into her eyes. “Why can't you believe that I am?”

  “I just know the kind of life you have lived. Suddenly you’re married, living near your long lost biological family and on the run from the law. I don't want you to feel burdened. You might start to hate me for it, and—”

  “First of all, I will never hate you. You know I love you. And that life I used to lead was hollow. Now I have that little girl in the next room who will grow up and call me Daddy. She'll need me to teach her to tie her shoe laces and pick her up when she falls down and to chase away all the boys who are just like me. That is more important than anything I ever did in my life before her.”

  He placed his hand against her stomach. “I'm starting over with you, Hop
e. You gave me the chance to give my life some meaning. Of course I want this baby. Our baby.”

  “Would you like a boy?” she asked smiling.

  “A boy—” He got a faraway look as he lead her to the bed and pulled back the covers for her. “A son.”

  “He'd probably grow up to be as dangerously good-looking as his father with twice the charm.”

  “Twice the charm?”

  “With you and your uncle to look up to, he'll definitely break all the girl's hearts.”

  Brennan laughed, trying to picture in his mind what it would be like to have a son. When he looked back down, he saw that Hope was sound asleep, holding his hand close to her chest for security. Carefully he pulled his arm from her and undressed, then crawled in to hold her close.

  ***

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Michelle was sitting on Uncle James's lap as Brennan pushed his wheelchair along the dirt path. Hope was shuffling along beside them, her eyes wide with excitement. Bren looked down and saw the same amazed thrill in the baby’s expression as was on his wife's. The New Durman Founders’ Day Celebration was quite a spectacle, and everyone seemed to be having a good time.

  “Look!” Hope gasped, pointing to a group of men in a mock jousting contest. The men's horses took off at a gallop, and they each raised their lances to each other. A loud snap filled the air as the dark armored man's lance broke, and the crowd around them cheered.

  “You should try it.” James turned his head to look at his nephew. “They take volunteers.”

  “No.” Hope shook her head. “It's too dangerous.”

  “Not really. They wear special padding and the lances are designed to break.”

  “Why don't we go get some buttermilk and sweet cakes from that vendor over there?”

  “Buttermilk?” Brennan wrinkled his nose. “You like buttermilk?”

  Hope turned and smiled. “It sure sounds yummy.”

  “Is this another one of those pregnant things?” he asked, following her.

  “Humor me.” she called over her shoulder.

  When night began to drop its veil over the fair, the sky became illuminated by a pale rose hue. Jeremy and Meg finally caught up with them after escorting their children to every ride and game on the grounds. Now the family was gathered around a table eating pork sandwiches and listening to Jeremy's son Jareth tell about his journey on a runaway horse.

  “I thought I was going to die!” he said, eyes wide to enunciate his words. “I swear I saw my entire life flash before my eyes. That angel of death had tapped me on the shoulder and was beckoning me—”

  Meg leaned over to Hope, a smile on her lips. “We're so proud,” she murmured. “By next year he may have already written his first best seller.”

  Hope giggled, enjoying the enthusiasm of the child.

  Just then a hand clamped down on her shoulder, and when she looked up, Mark smiled down at her.

  “Oh God—” she murmured.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Brennan asked, standing. There wasn't jealousy in his voice; just concern because he knew something must be wrong.

  “We need to talk,” Mark said to Hope.

  “What is it? Have they found us?”

  Mark shook his head. “Of course not.”

  “Then speak, boy, else we may all expire from anticipation,” Brennan's uncle urged.

  Mark hesitated because of the mixed company, but Hope took his hand. “It's all right, Mark. You can tell us all.”

  The man took a breath. “It's your mother, Hope. She had a heart attack about a month ago. The family thought it wasn’t a major one, but since then they can’t seem to get her to fully recover.”

  “Oh, God, no!” She brought her hand up to her forehead and closed her eyes. “She's going to die.”

  Brennan saw Mark watching her closely before she sucked up her resolve and looked him square in the eyes. He had to be completely straightforward with her; Brennan knew she expected him to be. From what he knew, her friend had always been painfully honest with her.

  “I can’t be sure, Hope. Her heart has been severely weakened. You know Cindy is friends with your Aunt Carol and so she’s been keeping close to them. They didn’t want me to come see you, but I couldn’t in good conscience keep it from you when I knew how to find you.”

  Hope took a deep breath, swallowed once, then stood and took Mark's hand. “We'll leave first thing in the morning.”

  “No!” Brennan grabbed her around the waist and hauled her to his side. “You can't go back and you know it.”

  “I don't know any such thing, Bren. She’s my mother. I won't let her be alone if she’s dying. You of all people should know that.”

  He did know. The pain and guilt he felt about not being with his mother when she died was still enough to almost bring him to his knees. Hope couldn’t go through that. Still, he couldn’t go through losing Hope. It was a lose-lose situation. But he wouldn’t take a chance with her. She was too important to him to take that risk.

  “They'll find you, Hope. Don't you realize? They'll be on the lookout for you, knowing that if you are still alive that you'll go to her.”

  “You don’t know that—”

  “I do know. An officer called me while we were on the road. He was still digging around, looking for any little tiny clue he could get his damned hands on. At least one person was still looking for you.”

  Her mouth fell open, and she shook her head. Once she got over the shock, she’d be furious with him for not telling her. It hadn’t mattered until now. Until now she was safe because she was with him. All that would change if she went back to Port La Pena.

  He took her hand, squeezing it. “I refuse to allow you to go. I absolutely forbid it.”

  She pursed her lips a furious frown on her face, but she didn’t argue. Mark apologized again, appearing very uncomfortable in his role as messenger. The family urged him to join their festivities, but all cheerfulness was evaporated from the celebration. After a while they all decided to return to the manor, where Uncle James extended his usual hospitality and insisted Mark should spend the evening.

  *

  Mark shouldn’t have been surprised to find Hope once again at his door, sneaking around in the dead of night to speak with him. He motioned her into his room at Arrington Manor with a wave of his hand.

  “I’m not going to help you do this, Hope. Brennan is right. And you know I don’t like having to agree with him after all I know about him.”

  She smiled. “Oh, Mark. He’s grown up. I wouldn’t have become Mrs. Brennan Rawley otherwise.”

  Mark rubbed his hands over his face as he sat down on a chair in the corner of the extravagant bedroom. “What are you doing here?”

  “I have to go. You know I have to go.”

  He was shaking his head before she finished speaking. “No, your husband said no. No matter our history, I take marriage seriously, and a wife doesn’t disregard that kind of demand from her husband. You’ll be taking too much of a risk. What if they are waiting for you to make this sort of move?”

  “It doesn't matter,” Hope said. “If I get caught, then that will just be the price I'll have to pay.” She raised her hand as he was about to speak. “And even if he let me go, Bren would try to insist on coming with me. I can’t let him do that. Michelle is his responsibility now, too. He has to stay here, just in case the worst happens.”

  “Dammit. I knew this was going to happen. I knew when I saw that look in your eyes. You’ll do it even if I don’t help you, won’t you?”

  She nodded, wringing her hands nervously.

  “I’ll call Cindy. You can take my car to get out of New Durma, but switch it out for a rental before you get to Port La Pena. It won’t do for you to drive my car right up to my house, just in case they’re watching. She’ll arrange for you to get to your mom’s house. She’s been there almost every day anyway.”

  “Thank you, Mark.” She leaned in and kissed his forehead.


  “This is really stupid, you know?”

  “I have to see Mom. I can’t not go. Now I need you to do something else. Wake up Uncle James by six. He’ll need to be ready to deal with Bren when he gets here. I left him a note, and I know he’ll come here first. Our marriage wasn’t recorded, and if anything happens, if they pick me up, he needs to have his uncle record the instrument. He can’t be made to testify against me that way. And then he has to leave. He has to go somewhere, anywhere. I can’t know where he is. Do you understand?”

  He didn't like it, but he didn’t have much of a choice. He nodded, his expression solemn with worry.

  ***

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Hope's hair was black now, cut short to frame her face, and she was wearing blue contacts, just to give a little extra camouflage. Her hometown seemed different, foreign. She didn't understand the change, but she could only imagine that it was because her ideals about life were somehow different. Mark's house was the one thing that she could say had stayed the same. His wife Cindy came out to greet her, and they hugged a moment in the yard.

  “I can't tell you how glad I am to know that you aren't really dead,” Cindy murmured, tears in her eyes.

  “I'm sorry for that, Cindy. I really am.”

  Mark's children were out of town with their grandparents. There was no way they could be trusted to keep Hope's existence a secret. Mark, of course, was still away on “business”.

  Cindy had been to visit Hope's mother every day since her illness, so her presence at the Sheffield home wouldn't be questioned. Hope was to play the part of Cindy's friend from Houston, the wife of a deacon come to say prayers with the ailing Mrs. Sheffield.

  “I told them we'd come about seven. I thought you might want to eat something first. I have sandwiches and chicken soup in the kitchen.”

  Hope wasn't hungry. Her stomach was in knots, so she just asked for some crackers and some iced tea. Thankfully, the baby was being still today, or she was afraid she'd be sick.