Hard Core (Onyx Group)
Page 27
“Alana. Wait.”
She paused, turned to see her friend Eliza, jogging toward her. Eliza had been the first friend she’d made when she became a student again. She liked the vibrant young woman who reminded Alana what it was like to be part of the world again and made her feel at home. Even while she felt empty without Cristian at her side.
They hadn’t said goodbye, exactly. Cristian had called his boss, Gallagher, who set her up in an apartment here in Boston, and Cristian loaned her enough cash to keep her content for a lifetime. Then he sent her on her way. No vows of love. Just a simple, “If you need me, call.” She’d memorized the number, but never used it. Weaning herself from him was for the best. Clearly, he had a life to return to that she didn’t fit in.
The pain of that truth still hurt like a knife in her chest. Every day that passed, she became more comfortable with her new life, falling back into a familiar routine. One step closer to putting the past behind her. That didn’t stop the nightmares from haunting her every night. Or waking up in a cold sweat longing for Cristian’s arms to be around her.
Eliza caught up to her, a smile on her face. “A few of us are going to the coffee shop to hang out. Want to come along?”
Something in the distance caught her eye. A movement. Next to a sleek, black sedan stood Cristian. Her heart flipped in her chest as her eyes drank him in. Tall, broad, formidable in long black coat and dark trousers. In six months he hadn’t changed. Maybe became more handsome.
“Wow. Who is that? He’s staring at you,” Eliza said.
Alana couldn’t take her eyes off Cristian. She hadn’t told anyone about him. About anything that happened to her on the island. No one knew she’d lived on an island in the Caribbean.
“Alana?” Eliza questioned.
“That’s the man I love.” Her heart pounded in her chest. “I’m sorry. I won’t be joining you at the coffee house. I think I have plans.”
Eliza grinned. “With tall, dark and handsome over there? I don’t blame you. Well, I’ll let you go. Call me.”
“I will,” Alana murmured, distracted. Drawn to the man she couldn’t stop staring at, she walked across freshly fallen snow until she stood two feet away. Somehow, she refrained from throwing herself into his arms just to feel them around her again.
“Cristian, what are you doing here?” This was the first time in six months he had come to see her.
“Get in.” He opened the passenger door.
Without asking why, she climbed in the front seat, inhaling the scent of leather and man. The sporty two-door suited Cristian. Dark, sleek, mysterious. He slid into the driver’s seat and backed out of the parking lot.
They sat in silence until she couldn’t stand it anymore. “Why are you here?”
He maneuvered down a tree-lined street with beautiful old houses built in the 1920s. She always loved this part of town. So much history. He pulled into the driveway of a two-story Victorian home surrounded by an elegant iron fence.
Confused, she turned to Cristian. “Whose house is this?”
Cristian met her eyes. “Yours,” he answered quietly.
At first she couldn’t react and then she did. Elation, then anger coursed through her. “You bought me a house?” she demanded. Why would he buy her a big, empty house to live alone in?
“You don’t like it?”
“I love it, but that’s not the point. You drove all the way from…which house did you come from? Just to show me a big, empty house you bought for me?”
He reached inside his jacket and handed her a key. “Go look inside.”
Annoyed that he didn’t respond to her anger, she grabbed the key, got out and slammed the door behind her. What had she expected? Romance from a mercenary? He did everything for a purpose. Nothing spontaneous. He’d probably put a lot of thought into choosing just the right house for her. And dammit, this quaint, cozy house glowing with character was perfect.
As she stormed up the shoveled walkway, she imagined a handful of children playing in the front yard, a tire swing in the giant tree shadowing the house. People raised families in houses like this.
Fitting the key in the lock, aware Cristian had followed her up the steps across the porch to the red door, she pushed it open and was immediately greeted with the warm scent of cinnamon and nutmeg. Warm cider, she thought, taking a hesitant step inside. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but not this.
Next to an old wooden staircase loomed a giant Christmas tree, decorated in red and gold lights and ornaments. Shiny wrapped presents littered the floor beneath the tree, and garland circled the polished stair rail. A fireplace decorated the other end of the glorious room, dressed with two stockings tucked into garland and candles. Cristian must have stopped here before coming to get her, because a fire completed the picture.
Pain knifed her chest. How could he do this to her? She had no one to celebrate Christmas with and this only made her realize how alone she really was.
She spun around to see Cristian close the door. “Why did you do this?”
“You told me about the Christmases you spent with your family and I thought this would remind you of them.”
Tears sprang to her eyes. Of course she remembered them and, yes, this reminded her of those times. She didn’t want to remember. What surprised her was that he remembered her telling him stories of her childhood memories. He had been overrun with fever. It touched her through her pain that he remembered and cared enough to do this for her.
“Why would you do that?” she breathed, an ache spreading through her chest.
He frowned. “You’re upset.”
“Yes, I’m upset. Did you think this would make me happy?”
“I did, actually. Maybe it’s my fault. Go look in your stocking.”
Wiping away a tear she looked at the fireplace. Two stockings. Not one. What was going on? She walked across the hardwood floor then stopped in front of the fireplace. Hesitantly, she reached inside the one with her name embroidered on it. Her name?
Wary, she glanced at the other sock. To her complete surprise, Cristian’s name was printed across the top. Not Slade, but Cristian. The given name he refused to be called. Now she was really confused.
She reached inside and pulled out a tattered journal. Tears slipped down her cheeks as she ran a hand over the worn leather cover. Carefully, she opened the pages and smiled through her tears, staring at the elegant script. Her father’s journal. The one he’d written in every night on the island.
Anger evaporated, she looked at Cristian. “How did you…?” Her breath hitched and she swallowed.
“I kept my promise, Alana. I went back to the island.”
Her heart swelled. This was the best Christmas present anyone could ever give her. Now, she had her father back and could spend his last days with him through his journal. A gift she could never repay.
“There’s something else in your stocking.”
Alana set the book on the mantle and reached into her sock. Her hand encountered something small in the toe and she slowly pulled it out. A small square box wrapped in shiny gold paper, with a mini red bow.
“Open it,” Cristian said softly.
With hands that were less than steady, her heart pounding, she peeled the paper off to reveal a velvet black box. The kind of box an engagement ring came in. Stopping her thoughts before they ran away, she lifted the lid. Probably a pair of earrings. No way was Cristian…
“Oh my God,” she whispered when a diamond ring sparkled back at her.
Cristian had removed his coat and stood in front of her now in a handsome cream cable-knit sweater.
“What is this?” she asked.
“It was supposed to be a proposal. But, I think I botched it. I’m no damn good at this.”
Hope warmed her insides. “A proposal? You’re proposing to me?”
“Yes. I should have done this six months ago. I wanted to. I didn’t want you to give up your career for me. I wanted you to have everythin
g.”
“And you thought if I was with you I couldn’t have everything?” she asked in disbelief.
“I’m a mercenary, Alana. You’re going to be an esteemed surgeon.”
For the first time, Cristian Slade was scared. He feared that if she married him he would ruin her career. This battle-hardened warrior feared for her.
With a smile, she stepped closer and pressed her lips to his. “I’m going to be an esteemed surgeon with the perfect husband.” She kissed him again, pulling away when he reached for her. “All I want is you, Cristian. I love you.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Yes.”
He smiled, which softened the hard lines of his face.
“You bought this house for us,” she said, putting the rest of the pieces together. “That was a bit presumptuous of you.”
He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against him. “I was determined to make you my wife.”
“I like the sound of that.”
He kissed her, long and slow, melting her. When he lifted his head, she longed to take this celebration upstairs.
“I love you, Doc. I never thought I would be able to let someone in. I’m glad I did.”
“I’m glad you did too, you stubborn, stubborn man. I have been miserable these past six months.”
He swung her into his arms and headed for the stairs. “Then I have some making up to do,” he said with a low growl.
Happier than she’d ever thought she could be again, Alana wrapped her arms around his neck. “You can make it up to me for the next fifty years or so.”
And he did…
The End
Jennifer Lowery
Jennifer Lowery grew up reading romance novels in the back of her math book and on the bus to school, and never wanted to be anything but a writer. Her summers were spent sitting at the kitchen table with her sisters spinning tales of romance and intrigue and always with a tall glass of ice tea at their side.
Today, Jennifer is living that dream and she couldn’t be happier to share her passion with her readers. She loves everything there is about romance. Her stories feature alpha heroes who meet their match with strong, independent heroines. She believes that happily ever after is only the beginning of her stories. And the road to that happy ending is paved with action, adventure, and romance. As her characters find out when they face danger, overcome fears, and are forced to look deep within themselves to discover love.
Jennifer lives in Michigan with her husband and two children. When she isn’t writing she enjoys reading and spending time with her family.
Jennifer’s Website
www.jenniferloweryauthor.com
Jennifer’s Reader Email
jennifer@jenniferloweryauthor.com
Other Books by Jennifer Lowery:
To purchase it, please click here: Hard Core
To purchase it, please click here: Murphy’s Law
To purchase it, please click here: Hard To Handle
To purchase it, please click here: A SEAL’s Song
To purchase it, please click here: The Maze