Forever His Desire

by Valerie Lynne

  Jennifer placed her hand on his, her thumb lazily caressing the top of his. “You’re right. This is our night and I shouldn’t give Rosalyn Spears the power to ruin it, but it wasn’t a misunderstanding. Rosalyn always finds a way to ruin things for us.”

  “Only if we allow her to,” Andre said, giving her leg a gentle squeeze.

  “Why can’t you see that she excels at spinning situations to make me look like I’m the crazy one?” Jennifer asked, exasperation clear in her tone as she moved her hand from his and then crossed her arms over her chest. “I know damn well she didn’t accidently break her heel. It was just another one of her sick ploys to get your attention.”

  “Nah.” Andre shrugged, missing the feel of her hand on his. “It probably was an accident.”

  “How?” Aqua eyes glared at him, blazing with fury. “Tell me how she could possibly have broken the heel of her shoe in a luxury hotel. Are you going to tell me it was a casualty of walking on plush carpeting?”

  “I can’t. As much as I don’t want to, I suspect you’re right.” Truth be told, Andre had often questioned Rosalyn’s motives. For years, Rosalyn had made it well-known that she was attracted to him. And he’d made it equally clear that his heart and body belonged to one woman and always would belong to one woman—Jennifer Jordan. “But I don’t really care about her agenda. I love you. You’re my world, and I’d die before I let anything or anyone come between us,” Andre stated, briefly taking his eyes off the road to look at her.

  Suddenly, Jennifer let out an ear-splitting scream. “Oh my God, look out!”

  Terror jolted through him as he slammed his foot down on the brake, the tires squealing. He jerked the steering wheel, narrowly missing a racoon as it scampered across Memorial Boulevard. The pickup swerved, bouncing onto the curb. Unable to regain control of the vehicle, panic coursed through him as he and Jennifer sped toward the entrance of the notorious Cliff Walk. Andre threw his arm to the side, shielding Jennifer from the dashboard just as his own body wrenched against the seat belt. His neck snapped forward, his forehead smashing against hard plastic.

  A thunderous boom cracked through the dense night air. Abruptly the truck came to a standstill, it’s hood buckling up upon impact with the massive stone wall. Smoke wafted around them, mixing with the sea mist swirling over the barrier that separated them from the violent ocean waves that crashed to the shore only a few feet below. Andre fought for consciousness, unable to remain awake as darkness shrouded him.

  Chapter 8

  Jennifer

  Something sticky stuck to Jennifer’s fingers. She pushed her bangs off her forehead, tapping the pads of her fingertips over the bump that had begun to form beneath the skin. Still in a state of shock, she turned her focus to the driver’s seat. An ungodly scream tore from her throat. “Andre?”

  No...no...no...please don’t be dead!

  Heart hammering, Jennifer jolted upright. Pain tore through her ankle. She peered down, swallowing back bile as her eyes locked on the unnatural twist of her foot. Anxious to get to Andre, she breathed through the pain as she slithered across the seat to the opposite side of the truck. Sweating profusely, she grew increasingly woozy as she leaned over him. Her fingers shook as she felt for his pulse.

  He’s alive!

  A pitiful grunt resounded from Andre’s lips. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she said, her voice cracking as she tugged roughly on his listless body. She gasped, the air rushing from her lungs as his shoulder collided with her chest, his torso slamming against hers and knocking her against the seat.

  A foghorn rang out mournfully in the distance. Jennifer shivered, the eerie sound chilling her to the bone. “Why do you love me?” Her shoulders shook, her head hanging down as she rocked him against her chest. “I’m always giving you a hard time. Sometimes, I worry that Rosalyn will convince you that I don’t really deserve you. Perhaps, she’s right. I’m a lot to love.” Her voice hitched. “But I doubt anyone could love you more than I do, Andre Jenkins. Because I love you more than life itself.”

  I’ve got to call for help. Jennifer rammed her hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out his cell phone. Fear and desperation coursed through her, her fingers trembling, as she pressed down on the keypad.

  “911 Emergency,” a monotone operator’s voice came through the phone line.

  “My fiancé is hurt,” Jennifer cried out into the receiver. “We were in an accident. There was a racoon. We were arguing and he didn’t see—”

  “Ma’am,” the operator interrupted calmly. “Is your fiancé conscious?”

  “No,” Jennifer shrieked, tears streaming uncontrollably down her checks. “Please. Someone needs to help us. He won’t wake up. Please get here—fast.”

  “The rescue has been notified. According to our navigation system it shows your location to be on Memorial Boulevard near the entrance of Cliff Walk.”

  “Yes. Please hurry.” Jennifer wrapped her arms tightly around Andre, hugging him close as she rocked. It seemed like an eternity before the shrill honk of a siren broke through the air. “They’re here,” she told the operator before dropping the phone.

  “Andre, the ambulance is here.” She sniffed against his cheek. “They’re going to help us.” Jennifer peered out the back window, blinded by the bright yellow glow of the flashing lights. Not two seconds later, a police car rounded the bend and slowed to a stop behind the rescue.

  “Jennifer, are you hurt?” Sergeant Crocker, Andre’s friend and mentor on the Newport Police Force questioned as he approached the truck.

  She nodded, worrying her bottom lip. “Yes.” Jennifer said, not looking as she pointed toward the floor, keeping her attention focused on Andre. “But please help Andre. He won’t wake up,” she cried out.

  “This lady needs help,” Sergeant Crocker yelled out just as an EMT swung open the driver’s side door and felt for Andre’s pulse. “I’ll take your statement at the hospital.”

  “There was a racoon. Andre didn’t see it. He swerved to avoid it.” Jennifer recalled the details coming out in a frantic rush. “Don’t let him die,” Jennifer cried, turning her attention to the EMT.

  “Everything will be all right, ma’am. He’s got a pulse and that’s what matters right now,” the EMT informed her.

  After several agonizing minutes spent waiting for Andre to be securely placed into the ambulance, it was Jennifer’s turn for evaluation. “Can you step from the vehicle?” the EMT asked.

  Jennifer nodded, cursing beneath her breath as she cautiously lowered her leg from the passenger’s side of the truck and onto the ground. She held her breath, willing herself not to faint from the torturous evaluation of the EMT as he probed at her leg. “We’ll get you fixed up in just a few moments,” he assured her and then guided her through the back doors of the ambulance.

  Chapter 9

  Jennifer

  What a wonderful man, Jennifer thought listening to the conversation between Andre and his boss. They’d each spent several hours in the emergency room before the doctor had convinced Andre to be admitted overnight. Standing at the foot of the hospital bed, Sergeant Crocker clutched his hat between his beefy fingers which rested at his waist. “Don’t worry about work. Right now, your primary concern needs to be your health.”

  Andre played with the plastic wristband with his name and date of birth clipped around his wrist, his upward upper body supported by several flat white pillows atop the reclined bed. “I really appreciate your stopping by and your concern, Sergeant, but I feel fine.”

  “Andre,” Jennifer butted in. “You have a concussion. The Newport Police Department will not fall apart while you recover from your injury.” In desperation, she shot a pleading look at his superior. “Tell him, Sergeant Crocker. He listens to you.”

  “Jenn,” Andre warned, giving the wristband a firm yank as if he’d be able to single-handedly remove that sucker.

  “Don’t you ‘Jenn’ me, Andre Jenkins.” Eyes narrowed, she leane
d forward in her chair and pointed one long French-manicured finger at him. “I’m right and you and Sergeant Crocker both know it.’

  “As I was saying”—Andre returned his attention to his boss, completely dismissing Jennifer’s outburst as if she weren’t even in the room—“I’ll be out in one maybe two days tops.”

  “You will not.” Jennifer jolted off the chair. Dizziness and pain assailed upon her. She hitched backwards, her ass flopping roughly back down onto the weathered cushion and seeing stars as her elbow struck the solid wood arm of the chair positioned at the side of the hospital bed. “For fuck’s sake,” she swore. Head pounding and heart racing, she felt as if she might cry. Her entire body ached and screamed for mercy. She hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours, hadn’t eaten since the engagement party, and the fucking bulky black boot she’d be forced to wear for the next several weeks felt like lead completely weighing her down. The last thing she needed was to be anxious over Andre returning to work with a concussion.

  “Jenn?” Andre winced as he thrust his arm out over the edge of the bed, unsuccessful in his attempt to grab her.

  “You need to take care of yourself as well, Jennifer,” Sergeant Crocker commanded, concern etched on his face as he moved to loom above her.

  “Oh, I’m okay. I simply forgot that my new attire consists of wearing a moon boot.” With a forced laugh, Jennifer held her breath as she struggled to lift her heavy foot off the floor to display it before the men. “I promise that I’m not a damsel in distress, Sergeant Crocker.”

  “You need to eat something, Jenn.” Andre removed his hand from the temple he was rubbing, abandoning it to reach for the call button to the nurse’s station.

  “Not hungry,” she said in denial. Apparently, the universe did not have her back as her stomach growled, mocking her at the very same moment.

  Andre’s lips curved up into a cocky smirk as he pressed down on the red button. “According to the roar of your stomach, I’d say the evidence proves otherwise.”

  “Smartass.” Jennifer pouted, crossing her arms above her breasts. “You know what I think?”

  “I can only imagine,” Andre said, rolling his eyes while Sergeant Crocker began to rock slowly on the heels of his shiny black shoes, his eyes averted down at the linoleum.

  “I think you want me to go to the cafeteria. That way, you can be rid of me while you try to talk Sergeant Crocker into letting you go to work. But it’s not going to happen because I’m not leaving.”

  “I’ll never in a million years understand how you dream up these things,” Andre raised his voice. “How do you twist an innocent request for food into a ploy to make you leave? I thought I was being nice. When the nurse gets here, I’m going to ask is if there is something you could have to eat so you don’t pass out.” He lifted his hand to the back of his shoulder, the cotton hospital gown stretching over his broad chest, and began to rub. “You know damn well I don’t keep secrets from you. I never have, and I sure as hell never will. Don’t try my patience with ridiculous assumptions.”

  “Don’t talk to me like a child,” Jennifer huffed.

  “Stop acting like one,” Andre spat back.

  Sergeant Crocker cleared his throat. “Officer Jenkins, I’m placing you on medical leave effective immediately.”

  “Sergeant,” Andre protested just as the nurse came into the room.

  “How are you feeling, Mr. Jenkins?” Claudia, the name on the dangling badge around her neck, stated.

  “I’m fine,” Andre answered, shooting Jennifer a heated look as she tsked in response. “But I’m not so sure about my fiancée. She hasn’t eaten since last night. She almost passed out a few minutes ago, and I’m also afraid that she may be dehydrated. Is there any way you could bring her something to eat and drink?’

  “Oh, of course.” She smiled, brushing her hair behind her ear as she placed the stethoscope against Andre’s chest. “The cafeteria is closed until dinnertime, but I’m sure there must be some sandwiches left over from lunch. I’ll just take your vitals while I’m here and then I’ll speak to one of the aides about getting you that sandwich, Miss.”

  “Thanks,” Jennifer deadpanned, tapping her fingertips on the armchair.

  “All good,” Claudia said, rubbing Andre’s shoulder and then turning her attention toward Jennifer. “Do you have any dietary restrictions?”

  “Nope. Anything would be welcome. Thank you,” she said.

  Once Claudia had exited, Sergeant Crocker spoke up. “Until your doctor clears you to return to work, you’re officially on leave.”

  “But—” Andre began to protest.

  “Officer Jenkins, are you contradicting me?” Sergeant Crocker reprimanded.

  Andre’s fist clenched in his lap. “Of course not, sir,” he said icily.

  “Good. I’ve spoken with Captain Jones and he’s in agreement with me. If we find out that you’ve come within fifty feet of the police station, you will be personally escorted back to your home.”

  Jennifer reclined against the back of her chair, a smug smile crossing her lips as Andre groaned, muttering a curse beneath his breath.

  “I suggest that you take this time to rest, catch up on your favorite TV shows, and enjoy your fiancée. Take care of yourself, Officer Jenkins,” he said, placing his hat back atop his balding head. “And you. Make sure you take care too, Jennifer,” he added, his attention momentarily on Jennifer before he walked out of the room.

  Chapter 10

  Andre

  After spending over 24 hours in the hospital with Jennifer refusing to leave his side, they’d both been elated when the doctor discharged Andre the following morning. As luck would have it, he knew the shift of his friend and partner on the force, Blake Norman, was ending right about the same time. When Andre sent a text to Blake explaining about the accident and that Jennifer would not be able to drive for several weeks due to having to wear the boot, his friend hadn’t hesitated to come to their rescue.

  Andre had been grateful to keep his mother out of the loop. She’d been over the moon for weeks. Andre would bet on his life that she never would have believed she’d be offered an opportunity to throw her oldest son and his fiancée a lavish engagement party. Although he’d never admitted it to Jennifer, Andre had been leery to accept Rosalyn’s offer. But he’d overlooked his good sense and somehow managed to get a reluctant—and rightfully so—Jennifer on board with the idea. All because they both loved Gladys Jenkins and wanted to make her happy. He just hoped his mother would never find out that their accident, which was sure to result in what Andre believed would be deemed the total loss of his truck, had been over Rosalyn and her so-called “broken heel.”

  Damn Rosalyn for ruining what should have been a fabulous night. Anything that has to do with Rosalyn, always ends in disaster. Dammit! I know better than to have agreed.

  Jennifer was one hundred percent right about everything she accused her nemesis of. She may think he didn’t see Rosalyn for the conniving bitch that she was, but he did. He just wanted to keep the peace. Weak fucking bastard, Andre chastised himself, wishing he’d never gotten sucked into Rosalyn’s way too generous offer. As far as Rosalyn Spears was concerned, there was always an ulterior motive.

  For as long as he could remember, Rosalyn had chased after him. She’d begun harassing Jennifer in middle school, along with a few of her friends, never letting up even throughout high school. Always stirring up trouble to purposely bait Jennifer into an altercation. And because Rosalyn’s father was on the school board, Rosalyn would come away as if she were an angel while Jennifer took all the blame. It wasn’t fair to Jennifer then and it certainly wasn’t fair now. She shouldn’t have to deal with Rosalyn Spears’s harassment ever again. If he didn’t put a stop to it, Andre knew it would never end. The events from the engagement party solidified that. Once and for all, he was going to demand that Rosalyn Spears back off. The woman needed to get it through her thick skull that Jennifer Jordan was the woman he loved, the
woman he was going to marry, and the only woman he’d ever want in his bed.

  EVERY MUSCLE IN ANDRE’S body ached as he trudged down the staircase. A sharp pang stabbed through the top of his skull, jarring him. Fuck! He halted dead in his tracks. As if he could stop the rapid throbbing beneath his palms, he threw his hands above his head. Oily, squiggly lines with flashes of miniature white blotches clouded his vision. The staircase swerved beneath his feet. He swayed involuntarily and grasped for the banister. Andre squeezed his eyelids shut, cursing the blinding pain. Slowly, he sucked in a deep breath and then counted to ten as he exhaled out. Bile rose in his throat, his body temperature rising as he rode out the raging nausea that overcame him.

  Finally, the piercing pain began to ease, dissipating into a less debilitating pounding at his temples and base of his skull. Andre’s lack of the proper amount of sleep had only intensified the excruciating headache that had been brought on by his concussion. He cracked an eye open, pleased to find his vision had returned to normal. He bounced on the stair to test his footing. Satisfied that the staircase was rooted onto the ground beneath him, he gingerly resumed his trek.

  “I thought I’d find you in here,” he said. “How come you decided to get out of bed?”

  Stone-faced, Jennifer sat rigid at the kitchen table, her attention fixated on the oversized coffee mug cupped between her palms and shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep.”

  Andre frowned and stepped further into the kitchen. “You okay?”

  Swollen, red-rimmed eyes peered up at him. “I’m fantastic,” Jennifer quipped.

  He shoved his hands into the pockets of his pajama pants and leaned his bare back against the cold counter. “I’m sorry.”