Passionate Kisses 2 Boxed Set: Love in Bloom

by Magda Alexander

  He forced his concentration onto the beautiful scenery. She’d lied to him. He couldn’t forget that. He wouldn’t forget that.

  Theresa’s comments haunted him. Yes, he’d started the game, but Audrey had changed the rules. Once their relationship became real, she should have told him who she really was. But she’d continued to lie and betray him until he’d frigging proposed to her.

  God! How could he have been so stupid?

  Gray clouds spread across the sky, and tiny drops of water began to fall. Zach remembered how she had insisted on staying here last night because she’d been afraid to fly in the rain. That should have clued him in. He and Ava had flown in hellish turbulence before, and it hadn’t fazed her.

  He entered the clearing, and spotted the cabin nestled in the trees across the meadow. Normally, the first sight of his cabin brought a surge of warmth to his gut, a burst of happiness to his heart and soul. Now, however, he felt none of that. The cabin looked barren and desolate, its beauty faded.

  First, she’d ripped his heart out and stomped all over it, which was bad enough. But now, now she’d ruined his favorite place in the world.

  He cut the engine and yelled into the sky at the top of his lungs. The rain hit his face in increasingly sharper blasts until he was drenched to the bone, out of breath and completely hoarse.

  His voice wasn’t the only thing he’d lost, however. He’d also lost his dreams before they ever had a chance to begin.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Zach lasted just four days at the cabin. By Thursday, his back and neck ached. He’d taken one look at the bed he and Audrey had shared, and knew he couldn’t sleep there again. He’d slept in the chopper in the tiny, cramped space behind the seats where the luggage should have gone.

  He arrived back in Sun Valley in a worse mood than when he’d left. The big house had an air of emptiness, his family long gone. Good. He didn’t want to hear any more about Audrey, about the way she’d looked at him when she left, about how she’d cried. Blah, blah, blah. Bullshit.

  As he entered the house, he wondered for the first time why he’d come back. Why hadn’t he just flown to Manhattan?

  Because Audrey’s presence wasn’t in New York, a little voice in his head told him.

  God, he missed her.

  His heart hardened in his chest, even while it twisted. No, he didn’t. He couldn’t miss someone he didn’t even know.

  He stopped in the doorway of the great room. Stoudt relaxed in one of the high-back chairs with the newspaper spread out before him, a glass of wine in one hand. On any other day, Zach would have enjoyed the sight, thinking of his parents’ reaction were they to see it. But today, he just didn’t give a damn.

  Upon seeing him, Stoudt sprang to his feet. “Mr. Banister. I apologize for my liberties, sir. I was not expecting you.”

  Zach waved his hand and made a dismissing sound through his teeth. “I’m not my parents.”

  Still, the butler looked frazzled, a reaction Zach had rarely seen in the man’s long tenure with the family. “May I get you anything, sir?”

  Zach started to shake his head, then said, “You could get me a beer. No, better idea. Why don’t you join me? I’m going to get drunk.”

  “Sir?”

  Zach cocked his head toward the kitchen. “Come on, old man. You know you want one.”

  Stoudt probably felt he had no choice but to follow. In the massive kitchen, Zach searched through the sub-zero fridge and found a six-pack. He slid a bottle down the counter to Stoudt and twisted the top off his own, then downed half of it in one long swig.

  “Are you alright, sir?”

  “I’d be better if you’d call me Zach.” Wishful thinking. Such familiarity wasn’t in Stoudt’s breeding. He peered at the man over the top of his bottle. “Tell me something, Stoudt. What did you think of Ava-er, Audrey?”

  “That’s not my place to say, sir.”

  “I’m telling you it’s your place.” He downed the rest of the beer and reached for another one.

  “Well, I’d have to say… I’d say she was delightful, sir.”

  Zach lowered the beer can. “Really?”

  Stoudt’s chest puffed out, and his chin lifted almost imperceptibly. “I think she’s the only real thing in this unreal life of yours, and it would be idiotic for you to let her get away.” He sipped his beer in the same way he did everything else-with dignity.

  Zach almost laughed at the irony of the situation. Almost. “Okay, so you found her delightful.”

  Stoudt put down his beer. “Unless I am mistaken, it was only a few days ago that you thought she was delightful.”

  Zach wiped his mouth with the back of his wrist. “I think I liked it better when you weren’t being honest, Stoudt.”

  The butler’s brows rose, and he shot Zach a knowing glare that rivaled those of his parents. “As you wish, sir.” He placed his empty bottle in a recycling bin in the pantry, then began wiping the granite counter tops even though they looked perfectly clean. Zach started to leave the kitchen.

  “Oh, Mr. Banister. It nearly slipped my mind, but a package came for you.” Stoudt picked up a manila envelope from the counter near the telephone. He handed it to Zach.

  Zach stared at the envelope. He’d never seen Audrey’s handwriting, but he knew it was from her even before noticing the Boise postmark. Part of him was tempted to toss it in the trash can on his way to the rest of his life.

  But the other part of him, the part that ached, convinced him to see what she’d sent.

  “I doubt it will bite,” Stoudt remarked.

  Zach shot him a withering look, then ripped the top edge off the envelope. He tipped its contents into his hand.

  A DVD. His heart gave a lurch when he saw the title.

  “The Wizard of Oz, sir?” Stoudt moved closer and hovered-something the butler had never been known to do. “That seems a rather…peculiar gift.”

  Snippets of his time with “Ava” flipped through Zach’s memory. Her words-What you see or think you see isn’t always what you get, and what you get isn’t always what you want. The photo of herself-her real self.

  Then he remembered his words to her-She doesn’t hold a candle to you, dollface-and he wanted to groan. That must have broken her heart. All the times she’d referred to herself in third person. All the times she’d brought up her “sister.”

  She’d been trying to introduce him to the real Audrey.

  He’d been such an idiot. She’d been sharing her true self with him all along. She’d even shared her greatest fear: being left behind when the balloon took off.

  Hope surged through his soul, and his mouth tugged at the corners until he flat-out grinned. “No,” he said to the faithful butler. “It’s not peculiar at all, old man. It’s…perfect.”

  *****

  Monday morning dawned clear and sunny. After several days of either gusty winds, rain, or both, today’s calm was a refreshing change. Birds chirped outside Audrey’s window. Still, the beautiful day didn’t make it any easier to pull herself out of bed. But she had to. This was the last week of school. The thought of the entire summer looming ahead brought none of the usual anticipation.

  Surely Zach had received his package by now. She had to start facing the facts: either he didn’t understand the significance of her gift, or he didn’t care.

  He’d left her life for good.

  Every morning, she woke up with hope that he’d call. Every night, she fell asleep with a pillow wet from her tears.

  She needed to turn the channel on her misery. It simply would not do to finish the school year as a train wreck.

  She dressed and prepared breakfast quietly, not wanting to disturb Ava, who slept on the pullout couch in the living room. She smiled at the sight of her dead-to-the-world sister. Ava had been a godsend this past week, doting on her and listening to her go on and on about Zach and her shoulda-woulda-coulda’s.

  Starting today, she would quit feeling sorry for herself. She du
mped her pity party down the disposal with the uneaten half of her waffle.

  She drove to school with the windows down, the wind blowing through the car, and arrived at Treasure Valley Junior High an hour before the students were due. This would be a great week. She would just ignore that aching, empty place inside until she was at home tonight, alone in her bedroom.

  She sorted through a massive stack of ungraded homework and end-of-year chores until her students burst in at the bell, their pre-summer excitement a boisterous counterpoint to her blue mood.

  In the middle of first period, the school principal poked his head into the room. “Audrey, could you come out here a moment?” Rod cocked his head toward the hallway. “There’s something you need to see. Kids, you might want to see this, too.”

  Puzzled, she followed him down the hall to the school’s front entrance. Was it just her imagination, or did everyone stare at her? The kids trailed behind her as if she were the Pied Piper.

  “Secret admirer, Audrey?” asked the school secretary.

  A group of teachers had gathered in the front courtyard, looking toward the recreation fields.

  Before she could see what had captured everyone’s attention, Audrey felt something crunch beneath her feet.

  Buttercups and violets littered the sidewalk.

  Before she could process that, Rod nudged her in the arm and motioned straight ahead. A long, black limousine parked in the bus lane, and a man stood in front of it holding a sign.

  “A friend of yours?” Rod asked, amusement in his voice.

  Her heart skipped a beat. “That’s Zach’s butler. Well, his family’s,” she said, feeling dazed.

  “Butler? Do people still have butlers?”

  She walked close enough to read the sign. Audrey Thompson, it read, with an arrow pointing to the right.

  With a tremulous smile at Stoudt, who didn’t appear too butler-like with his ear-to-ear grin, Audrey turned in the direction of the arrow.

  Her legs almost buckled. A rainbow-colored hot-air balloon sat smack in the middle of the soccer fields. Hope sped up her heart rate, and she glanced at Stoudt.

  “You might want to run, Miss. You don’t want it to leave without you.”

  She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek, leaving a coral lipstick imprint on his pale cheek. She turned to Rod. “I’m sorry. I know it’s the last week of-”

  “We’ll cover for you. You deserve this.”

  With one last look at everyone gathered on the school’s front lawn, Audrey bolted toward the soccer field. Her hair flew free of its clip as she ran, and her shoulder-length locks whipped every which way.

  She was about twenty yards from the balloon when Zach jumped out of the basket. They both stopped and stared at each other.

  A smile radiated from Audrey’s heart. Her chest heaved with excitement. Zach. Ripples of love shot upward from her toes like a firecracker. He looked wonderful. Tired and unshaven, but wonderful. Maybe he’d been as devoid of life without her as she’d been without him.

  “I got your present,” he said, his voice carrying over the dull roar of the balloon exhaust.

  With perfect timing, they darted toward each other. Zach yanked her into her arms and kissed her cheeks, her eyelids, her forehead. “God. I’ve missed you.”

  Audrey closed her eyes and reveled in the feel of his warm mouth on her skin, his hard body enveloping hers. She skimmed her hands across his shoulders and down his back, pulling him tight against her heart. Right where she needed him to be. Forever. She pulled back and cupped his face between her hands. “It’s really you,” she said softly, tears threatening to flow.

  “It’s really me,” he said.

  “I’m so sorry,” they said together, and laughed.

  “This past week has been a nightmare for me,” she said, reaching for his hands.

  “For me, too.”

  “I want you to know I never, ever meant to hurt you.” She entwined their fingers and squeezed. “Even though I was pretending to be someone else, everything we shared was real.”

  He raised their clasped hands to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “I know. But it wasn’t until you sent me the movie that I realized your appearance was the only thing about you that wasn’t genuine. I love you, Audrey. Not your hair, your makeup, or your,” his eyebrows rose, “your fake cleavage. Just you.”

  She blushed. “You don’t mind the real me? Because what you see is pretty much what you get.”

  He tilted her chin up with his finger and peered down into her barely made-up face. “What I see is what I want.”

  “Yo! Rich guy!” called the balloon operator. “We gotta go.”

  Zach held up his hand to the impatient man, then slipped a ring onto Audrey’s finger-a different ring than the one he’d given her a week ago, a beautiful solitaire on a simple platinum band. “This one suits the real you better. Beautiful. Not overdone,” he said, then kissed her hand. “Come with me.”

  Hand in hand, they jogged to the balloon, then climbed into the basket. “Where are we going, Zach?” Amazingly, the thought of flying with him now induced no fear.

  “Wherever the rainbow leads us.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, and lifted her mouth to meet his. A cheer rose from the ground as the balloon lifted off.

  “Should I click my heels together three times?” she asked against his lips.

  “No need, dollface,” he said, tightening his embrace. “You’re already home.”

  THE END

  Other Books by Rebecca J. Clark

  HER ONE-NIGHT PRINCE

  DELIVER THE MOON

  SHAMEFUL (Prequel to Shameless)

  SHAMELESS

  The CHECKLIST DIET

  Coming soon:

  RUNNING in STILETTOS

  Red Stilettos-Book Two

  You’ve just read Audrey’s story, now it’s Ava’s turn.

  Jet setter Ava Thompson is forced to spend the summer stuck in suburban hell to take care of her sister’s house and dog, but cooks up some fun seducing the sexy single dad next door, never expecting to discover a life she never knew she wanted.

  Note From The Author

  Thank you so much for reading Borrowed Stilettos. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you did, please tell a friend about it or consider lending it through your retailer’s lending program. I would also be very grateful if you left an honest review at your online retailer’s website.

  Sign up for my newsletter with up-to-date book news: http://eepurl.com/shhRH

  You can find me online here:

  http://RebeccaJClark.com

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  https://twitter.com/RebeccaJClark

  About The Author

  I’ve wanted to write romance novels since I read my first Harlequin Romance at age eleven. When I’m not writing, I work as a personal fitness trainer and group exercise instructor, where I teach Pilates, kickboxing, weight-training and yoga. I feel very lucky to have not one, but two dream jobs: writing and fitness. Other jobs I’ve worked at over the years include portrait artist, marketing director, and graphic designer. But I most enjoy telling people I used to be a hoer (say it out loud, and you’ll know why I get a laugh out of this) in the beautiful tulip fields of Skagit County, Washington.

  I live in the Pacific Northwest with my husband, two kids, a German shepherd beast, two cats who plot to kill the dog, and a dead gecko (seriously). In my free time, I like to read, watch Criminal Minds reruns on TV, and do absolutely nothing.

  Geek God

  By

  Victoria Barbour

  Dedication

  For Reg, who showed me the magic of games and the wonder of love.

  Acknowledgments

  Sometimes you end up writing something that surprises you and challenges you. When the idea for this trilogy came to me in the middle of the night, I knew I had to do some things differently for this story. Telling it directly th
rough Jillian’s point of view was the first challenge. Not adding all the sexy bits was the other. Without the encouragement of my Scribe Wenches Valerie Francis, Debbie Robbins and Melanie Martin, I’m not sure I would have dared tell this tale the way I did. Thanks, ladies. Also a thank you to Clare Wilcox and Sydney Holmes for answering my late night plea to read the opening page and tell me what they thought, and to Kemberlee Shortland for her grand comments. And as always, thanks to Reg and Rowan for being so understanding and supportive of this life I lead. No book is ever finished without A.E. Cummings’s keen eye. Nor can I go to print without the covers that Crystal McLellan designs. The covers for this trilogy are my favourite to date, and I think it’s because of the time Crystal and I spent playing with light, dice and rose petals in her studio. Last, but not least, thanks to the fantastic group of people I play Dungeons & Dragons (and many other awesome games) with. I doubt many of them will read this book, but I know I have their support and that means the world.

  Thursday. 9:30ish in the morning.

  I wouldn’t say I’ve slept with a lot of guys in my life. Not because it’s not accurate, but who would willingly admit such a thing about themselves. You’d either think I was bragging, or a skank. Besides, “a lot” isn’t really a quantifiable number. Compared to some girls, I bet my number is quite low. Maybe even respectable.

  I’m not even sure why I’m bringing this up. Hell, you don’t even know me yet. Let’s just say, if one of my girlfriends-most likely Ingrid-happens to imply such a thing, you should know that for the past year, I haven’t even had a date, let alone an orgasm. Well, an orgasm of any significance that included another person. Argh. Let me start over.

  My name is Jillian Carew. I’m a professor of Classics at the university here in my home province of Newfoundland. If you need to ask which one, then you don’t know Newfoundland. There’s just Memorial. MUN, we call it.

  The stars aligned and I managed to land a teaching gig here last August. Is it wrong of me to be a wee bit thankful that two old men who refused to retire and let some young blood into the department had the cruel hand of fate intervene and take them to the great beyond? Regardless, I’d already set myself on the straight and narrow. No more ill-advised affairs with post-docs or angst-ridden quasi relationships with grad students. The last thing I’d want is for people to think I’m easy. I’m not.