Men Made in America Mega-Bundle

by Gayle Wilson, Marie Ferrarella, Jennifer Greene, Annette Broadrick, Judith Arnold, Rita Herron, Anne Stuart, Diana Palmer, Elizabeth Bevarly, Patricia Rosemoor, Emilie Richards

  “Drew—” she spoke his name softly, very tenderly, and with an underlying sadness “—we always said that we would never hold on if a time came in our relationship when the other one wanted out. We both recognized that there are many people in the world and you and I are exposed to the most beautiful, the most handsome, the most talented, and that someday we might meet another person that would mean more to us than what we shared—and in that event, we would understand and let the other go free.”

  The lines in Drew’s face grew deeper as he searched her face. Lisa determinedly returned his stare with a calm she was far from feeling. What if he called her bluff?

  He did. “Is that why Richard Driscoll was willing to take time out from his busy schedule to do this part with you?”

  Startled at the mention of Richard’s name, Lisa could only stare at him, perplexed.

  “It’s obvious there’s something between the two of you. The set seemed electrically charged whenever the two of you were together.”

  “Drew, you can’t be serious. Richard is very much in love with his wife of twenty-five years.”

  The bitterness in his face made her cringe inside. “That may be true, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t appreciate all you have to offer.”

  “You’re wrong. Very wrong.”

  Drew picked up his glass of wine and sipped from it. Staring into the clear liquid as though reading a crystal ball, he asked, “If it isn’t Richard, then who is it?”

  “What’s important now, Drew, is that it isn’t you,” she offered quietly.

  His expression remained impassive while Drew continued to stare into his wineglass, but his knuckles whitened as he gripped the glass until the delicate stem shattered in his hand.

  They sat for a moment in shock, staring at the remains of the glass, then Lisa took the broken glass and ran to the bathroom, tossing the liquid in the sink and grabbing a towel to wrap around his hand.

  Drew took the towel without speaking, carefully brushing the sparkling pieces of glass into a neat pile on the linen tablecloth. Luckily none of the cuts on his palm were deep, and he strode into the bathroom and closed the door.

  Lisa could hear the water running, and she glanced at the table with dismay. Their meal could not be considered a success—of that she was certain. She had hurt Drew again, and she could feel his pain as though it were her own. But she didn’t know what else to do.

  The bathroom door opened and she spun around, watching him anxiously.

  A rueful smile appeared on Drew’s face. “That might be considered dramatic in a movie scene, but I feel like an absolute fool.”

  A sweeping rush of relief ran through her when she realized he was trying to lighten the atmosphere. She moved toward him. “How’s your hand?”

  He held it out to her. “Actually, I’ve had worse cuts shaving in the morning, but if you want to kiss it to make it better, be my guest.” There was a slight note of teasing in his tone that Lisa found reassuring.

  “Oh, that won’t be necessary, but I don’t think you want to try to eat, for fear of getting a piece of glass.”

  Drew glanced at the table and shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. Ground-up glass might be just what I need.”

  “Not funny, I’m afraid.”

  He looked down at her and saw the signs of hastily dashed away tears, and Drew acknowledged to himself that he was making a melodrama of something that happened between married couples all the time. Just because they’d had several good years of married life together didn’t mean they had a guarantee of continued marital bliss. So why had he always thought he and Lisa were the exception?

  Cupping his uncut hand along her cheek, he said, “I’m sorry, baby. Sorry for barging in here tonight, sorry for trying to badger you into changing your mind, sorry it didn’t work out between us.” He stepped back, away from her soft scent that brought back so many memories. He had to quit living in the past. “I’m not going to fight you anymore, love. I want you to be happy and if I can’t provide that happiness for you, I hope you’ll find it somewhere else.”

  Drew opened the door to the hallway and looked back at her. Never had she looked more beautiful, her midnight black hair framing her delicate face, the soft peach of her satin robe echoed in the tint of her cheeks, her eyes huge in her face. “I won’t fight you about the divorce, Lisa.” He closed the door quietly behind him.

  Lisa stood in the center of her room, staring at the door. She had done it. He was finally beginning to accept their separation.

  She was relieved. Of course she was. She’d waited almost a year for this moment. It was a success of sorts. Then why was she standing there in the middle of a luxurious hotel room with tears streaming down her face? Why did she feel such an emptiness inside, knowing she’d never find another person whom she would be able to love as she did Drew?

  Lisa had made the right decision. All she had to do now was to live with it.

  Seven

  The next morning Lisa caught a glimpse of her pale face and puffy eyes in the bathroom mirror and decided that the makeup department would certainly earn their pay today.

  The scenes to be filmed that day would portray Conchita as lighthearted and gay. Lisa stood under the shower and tried to prepare herself for the role.

  Lighthearted and gay. When had she felt lighthearted and gay?

  Their wedding and honeymoon. She would never forget. They had decided to get married in her hometown so that her family could be present. It was a small ceremony, private and very beautiful. Drew made arrangements for them to fly to Missouri in a private plane because he didn’t want publicity about their sudden marriage.

  Her family had welcomed Drew into their hearts and homes and he’d been treated to several stories about the misadventures of Lisa as a child.

  “I’m never going to see you as tiny and helpless again, you know,” Drew told her the evening before the wedding. “According to your brothers, you were a holy terror and kept them all at bay.”

  They had followed a trail into the woods behind her parents’ farm.

  “I never pretended to be helpless. And I have no control over my size,” Lisa replied with wounded dignity.

  “Did you really try to jump off the barn loft holding an umbrella?”

  “Mary Poppins never had a problem.”

  “Oh, Lisa.” He stopped her by pulling her into his arms. “I love you so much. It scares me to think I might not have found you.”

  She went up on her toes, loving the feel of his body pressed so close against her. He picked her up in his arms and his mouth found hers in a searing kiss.

  “How can I go to sleep tonight without you in my arms,” he finally whispered, when he could find his breath.

  “I’m sure one of my nieces would be pleased to loan you a teddy bear, if that would help.”

  He laughed. “I think I’ll pass. Instead, I’ll lie there tonight and think of all the things I intend to do tomorrow night, after you’ve become Mrs. Drew Donovan.”

  Lisa nuzzled his ear. “I can hardly wait.”

  “Did your folks say anything about our getting married so soon after we met?”

  “They knew better. My folks had only known each other three weeks when they ran off and got married.”

  Drew let her slide down him slowly, intimately, until her shoes touched the ground once more.

  “How long have they been married?”

  “Thirty-eight years.”

  They turned around and started back to the house. “I’m looking forward to our thirty-eighth anniversary some day, with all our children and grandchildren gathered around.” Drew paused outside the house and stared up at the sky for several minutes without speaking. “I no longer feel alone in the world, Lisa. With you in my life, I’ll never be alone again.”

  Twenty-four hours later Drew and Lisa stood on the clean white beach of a small island in the South Pacific.

  “It’s so beautiful here, it doesn’t seem real,” Lisa said quietly. T
he moon shone so brightly that they needed no other light, and Lisa could see the silhouette of the palm trees as they leaned gracefully toward the sea. “I feel like the last few days have been a dream.”

  They had arrived by private jet less than an hour before. Drew had kept their destination a secret, and Lisa was delighted with his choice of a place to spend their first weeks together alone. They had found their own private paradise.

  “Are we the only ones on the island?”

  “Not quite. The island is privately owned, but there’s a small settlement on the other side. The place is surprisingly self-sufficient.” He ran his hand along the length of Lisa’s spine. “Could I interest you in a tour of the place we’ll call home for the next two weeks?”

  His eyes glinted in the moonlight and she saw the flash of his smile.

  “By all means,” she said with dignity, then ruined it with “I’ll race you,” and took off running. By the time they reached the steps, they were both breathless.

  Lisa paused in the doorway, but Drew scooped her up into his arms and strode with determination toward the bedroom.

  “You don’t appear to be hampered by jet lag,” Lisa pointed out as he lowered her to the bed.

  “Not yet, anyway,” he agreed. “I’m not making any guarantees about how I’ll feel tomorrow, though.” He leaned over her. “Would you care to take a shower with me?” he asked, kissing her lightly on the nose.

  “Um-hmm.”

  Before she could get up, Drew picked her up again and walked into the large adjoining bathroom.

  “I’m perfectly capable of walking, Drew. Marriage hasn’t made me helpless, you know.”

  He began to undress her. “I know, but I enjoy it. Humor me.” He reached inside the tub and turned on the shower, then removed his clothing with economical movements.

  As soon as they stepped into the tub, Drew picked up a bar of soap and began to make lather. With a serious expression on his face he drew circles and other geometric designs on Lisa with the foam. “This is much more fun than finger painting on paper,” he explained solemnly.

  She took the soap away from him and embarked on some artistic designs of her own. By the time they got out of the shower Lisa was weak with laughter.

  Drew was outrageous, preposterous and more fun than anyone she had ever known. He lay stretched out on the bed beside her, propped up on one elbow, his head resting on his hand, obviously enjoying the view of her unclothed body.

  “Aren’t you going to turn out the light?” she asked a little breathlessly.

  “Uh-uh. I want to see you.” He slowly traced a line with his hand from her throat downward, between her breasts, to the rounded indentation of her navel, then paused to ask, “Am I keeping you awake?”

  “You certainly are. I’ve never felt less sleepy in my life!”

  He traced the same path once again, this time with his lips. “Good,” she heard him say. “Are you ready for your next lesson in lovemaking?”

  The things that he was doing to her body should be outlawed, Lisa decided. It was all mind shattering, and she could scarcely concentrate on what he was saying.

  For the next two weeks Lisa ran and played on the beach with Drew, sunbathed, laughed and loved him to distraction. She learned variations of variations that taught her about her own body and her ability to give and express love.

  She had been very lighthearted then. Lighthearted and gay.

  Lisa climbed out of the shower and forced herself back into the present.

  Several hours later she was ready to shoot her first scene with Drew. When she spotted him across the room that had been set up to resemble a ballroom, her heart sank.

  He met her look with a cold calmness that was a far cry from her memories of him earlier that morning. Gone was the lighthearted, teasing lover she had been remembering.

  “Places, everybody,” Tom announced to the group of extras standing around in resplendent finery.

  They were filming the night that Reynaldo and Conchita first met. Her father had arranged a ball to celebrate her birthday. Lisa knew she looked very young and chaste in her costume, and she hoped the camera wouldn’t pick up the results of her sleepless night.

  Richard greeted her with a wink and a smile, placed her hand on his arm and solemnly led her out onto the dance floor while the camera dutifully recorded the pomp of the occasion.

  Music filled the area, and as the camera panned the room Richard took the opportunity to say, “What’s wrong, Lisa?”

  She smiled brillantly up at him, hoping she was successfully portraying a young, vibrantly happy woman.

  “Did you and Drew have words, by chance? He came in to breakfast this morning looking like a thundercloud. It may have been my imagination but I got the strong impression that I was the one he wanted to rain on.”

  Lisa’s smile became more natural at Richard’s gentle humor. “He believes you and I are lovers.”

  “I’m delighted to hear that. I’ve always said that being shot by a jealous husband is the only way to go.” The camera was on them, and Richard became the distinguished father of the guest of honor, his demeanor regal, his face sternly proud.

  With her back to the camera, Lisa said, “Drew agreed to the divorce last night.”

  “I see. And you are both deliriously happy—that’s certainly plain to see.” He tilted his head slightly to the side. “Tell him the truth, Lisa. He deserves to know.”

  “Cut! All right, everybody, let’s take a twenty-minute break and come back for the scene when Reynaldo asks Conchita to dance.” Richard and Lisa stopped dancing and listened to Tom’s instructions. Then Lisa turned back to Richard.

  “There’s no reason to tell him now. He’s accepted the idea of a divorce.”

  “Because of a deliberate deception on your part. You’re not being fair to either one of you.”

  “Life isn’t always fair, Richard. I thought we decided that a few days ago.”

  He shrugged. “All right. But I believe you’re making a grave error in judgment.” He leaned over and kissed her on her forehead. “That’s all the sage advice I intend to hand out.” Richard gave her a half wave and walked away.

  “Very touching. Was that supposed to be a fatherly kiss just now?”

  Lisa spun around. “Hello, Drew, I didn’t see you.”

  “I’m not surprised. You were too wrapped up in what the revered Mr. Driscoll had to say to notice anything around you.” Lisa could feel the hostility radiating from him.

  “I don’t want to fight with you, Drew. This is our first scene together. If we’re going to make this movie, we’re going to have to keep our private lives and personal feelings out of it.” She hoped she looked calmer than she felt. Her heart was racing and she felt almost faint.

  He stared at her for a moment in silence, then stalked away without comment. She was one cool customer, all right. Didn’t even care that her husband was on the sidelines watching her pick out her newest conquest.

  You knew this was going to be difficult, Donovan, before you came down here. What he hadn’t faced was that it was going to be close to impossible!

  If he could only hate her, feel contempt for her. If he could find someone else. But the problem was that he didn’t want anyone else. You poor, stupid bastard. Hadn’t he learned how to live with rejection in his life by now?

  Once again the camera was rolling. The music was slower, the melody more romantic and the lights weren’t quite as harsh.

  “May I have this dance, Senorita Hernandez?” Drew bowed deeply over Lisa’s hand. He felt a slight tremor in her fingers and glanced at her from under his thick brows without raising his head.

  Shyly, Lisa let her lashes slowly rise until their gazes met. “But we haven’t been introduced, senor,” she replied hesitantly.

  Drew grinned and Lisa felt an ache somewhere deep inside. He looked too good to be real. He wore the black formal wear of the era, the jacket short at his waist, revealing the lithe line of his hips
and legs outlined by the snug pants. The ruffled shirt emphasized his masculinity. “But we have met, senorita, although it has been several years since I was last in your home. I am Reynaldo Santiago.”

  “You are Reynaldo?” Quickly she looked around. “Does my father know you have returned?”

  His smile widened. “Undoubtedly he will know before the night is over.” He raised his eyebrow slightly. “Shall we dance?”

  Slowly, Lisa came to her feet. “I was only ten when you left, Senor Santiago.

  How did you recognize me?”

  Drew took Lisa in his arms and began to waltz with her, the camera faithfully following. “I would have recognized those eyes anywhere. Besides, didn’t I promise I would come back to you someday?”

  Lisa looked up at him in surprise.

  “But you were only teasing me when you said that.”

  “Was I?” he asked quizzically.

  “But of course.”

  “Is that why you no longer call me Reynaldo, as you used to?”

  She dropped her lashes, effectively hiding her eyes from him. “I’m glad you have returned, Reynaldo,” she said softly.

  “Cut!” Tom came striding toward them. “I want to do this scene over.” He glanced at both of them and shook his head. “I never thought I’d have to ask you two to put more feeling into it, for God’s sake, but, Drew, you’re holding Lisa like she’s got some contagious disease, and you,” he turned to Lisa, “are showing as much excitement at seeing Reynaldo again as you would show choosing fish at a seafood market.”

  He ran his hand through his hair in distraction. “C’mon, you two, loosen up.” He turned to the crew. “Let’s get the makeup touched up. And Mike, check those lights over there. We can’t have them blinking like that while we’re filming. It will look like there’s a neon sign just off camera!”

  The makeup crew hurried to Drew and Lisa who patiently waited while their makeup was renewed. Lisa wore an elaborate hairdo that had been sprayed so heavily that it felt like a metal helmet. A cluster of curls hung over her shoulder.