Rush: A Second Chance Romance

by Ellen Lane

  I dropped my carry on, my heart bouncing into my throat.

  Rhett had come. Rhett was here.

  When the irked security guard asked me to step out of line, I did so, uncaring that I would now probably miss my flight. How could I care about anything else when Rhett was walking up to me, out of breath, rumpled and gloriously handsome. It had only been a little over a week since I’d last seen him, but it felt like a lifetime. “Rhett.”

  It was all I could manage to say.

  “Cece...I read your article. I read it a few times.” Immediately, my face flamed. Of all the people I’d knew were judging me, I never imagined Rhett would be among their number. “Ok, I read it about ten times.” He smiled, and he was so heartbreakingly beautiful that my breath caught. “You poured your goddamned soul out. All that...you were trying to tell me how you felt and I was a complete asshole. I should have listened to you, and I understand if you don’t want anything to do with me now but…” He trailed off for a moment, his blue eyes searching my face like a warm caress. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

  My laugh came out on a sob. “I’m wearing leggings and a hoodie.”

  “I don’t care,” he insisted, drawing me to him. “You’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.” When his mouth covered mine, I melted against him. Had I really thought I could run from this? From the rightness of his embrace and the way he looked at me like I was the only person in the entire cosmos? When he drew back, my fingers curled into his shoulders as I savored the lingering taste of him. “Don’t go.”

  By now, tears were slipping freely down my face. “Why should I stay?” I ventured, my voice more than a little unsteady.

  “Because.” He brushed my tears away with the pad of his thumb. “I love you. I’ve only ever loved you...and I swear to God I’ll be so much better at it the second time around.” Then he was kissing me again, and all I could think was that I finally found what I’d been missing. What I was so sure didn’t exist.

  Reaching up to cup his face, I smiled.

  Be content with what you have. I’d never been so happy to comply. “I’ll hold you to that.”

  Epilogue

  One Year Later

  Rhett had always been a southern boy at heart and so, of course, the adjustment back to California took him a good long while. Cece, for her part, was so absorbed in her new job that she was simply glad to be home whenever she could. Between her numerous TV appearances as a result of her article and being officially tied to Rhett, she found she hardly had a moment to breathe.

  Being a reporter on television, she found, was completely different than anything she had ever done. She had always wanted to report things that really mattered, and now she found she could connect with people face to face. While she still enjoyed writing the occasional guest article for magazines and newspapers, she focused on newscasting, and, within a few months, she built a close rapport with her crew and producers.

  Rhett was happy, for once, to take a back seat to someone else. Of course, he could never stop being Rhett Wilder, and if anything, more people knew him in California than Georgia. That said, he finally took advantage of his work schedule in the way that Tony had always recommended and took some much needed time off. This meant sitting around the house he’d bought for Cece and watching her juggle her daily life like she was made for it.

  He couldn’t ever remember being prouder of her.

  Ultimately, however, as the utmost authority on overwork, he had to insist that she take a break. The station would function without her for a few days, and his need to explore had turned into an incessant itch that he could no longer ignore. When he suggested to Cece that they head back to the cabin in the Blue Ridge mountains, she agreed almost immediately.

  After that, it was just a matter of getting things ready.

  While Cece went hunting for wild blackberries, Rhett lit candles and scattered rose petals. When he’d told Tony his plan for this trip, his friend has given him enough shit that Rhett wished he could reach through the phone to clobber him. Though Jeb, being Jeb, had talked his way in circles and uttered no small number of threats, he, too, had ultimately given his grudging blessing.

  “Jesus Rhett, you should go into the blackberry business. If you really own all this, these woods are full of them. They’re huge and perfectly ripe too. Just look-”

  The moment she stepped through the door, Cecily stopped in her tracks. In the hour that she’d been gone, the cabin had been completely transformed. Candles were scattered on every available surface and rose petals littered the floor. A bottle of champagne was chilling in the kitchen sink, a fire crackled in the hearth, and soft music played from a radio. “Rhett?” Cece closed the door behind her, setting her basket of berries on the kitchen counter. “What’s all this?”

  Rhett rose from where he’d been waiting for her by the fire with a small, almost sheepish smile. In the past year that he’d spent with Cecily, he’d learned that not as much had changed about her as he’d thought. She still liked to assert her independence. She could be stubborn, she despised elaborate displays of affection and she had never been fond of surprises. But he hadn’t been able to help himself just this once.

  “I know you’re not the best with surprises,” he took a few steps forward before hooking his thumbs in the belt loops of her jeans to drag her against him. “But there are certain courtesies that have to be observed here.”

  “Observed for what?” She only got out a single question before he was crowding her against the door, his mouth roving hungrily over hers.

  Cecily had no idea what all of this was about, but Rhett’s deft, knowing hands were rapidly overcoming any curiosity she might have. She let her head fall back against the rough wood as Rhett’s mouth trailed down her neck. Her fingers tangled in his hair as he headed still lower, and her breath hitched in anticipation as he knelt on the floor before her.

  And then he stopped.

  All but squirming in need, Cecily looked down at him - and her breath caught in her throat.

  Rhett was holding a ring - and sporting a smug grin. “Sorry to disappoint you.” He chuckled. “But I’m sure we’ll get there eventually.”

  Cece found that she couldn’t speak. As little as she liked to cry, she found her throat thick with tears as moisture pricked at the corners of her eyes. Rhett was the only one that could turn her into a frenetic ball of emotions with little to no effort.

  And she secretly loved it.

  “You...idiot.” She sank to her knees with him, cupping his face in both hands to press her mouth to his. In their kiss, she tasted the salt of her tears and the sweetness of the berries he’d snuck. “I’m really shit at surprises.”

  Rhett chuckled, extracting the glinting diamond ring from the box to take her hand. “Last one, I promise.” He slipped it onto the fourth finger of her left hand, where it rested like it was always meant to be there. “This means you’re mine, you know.” He whispered against her forehead, his heart full. “Really mine. Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?”

  Cece laughed through her tears. “About thirteen years, give or take.”

  “No.” Rhett corrected her softly, his gaze meeting hers. Everything she needed, everything she wanted was in those eyes. “Longer. Much longer that.”

  THE END

  Thank You!

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llen Lane

  Naughty Business

  VLADIMIR KENSLEY

  Ellen Lane

  Chapter 1 - The Line of Succession

  Vladimir Kensley didn’t know what to do with himself when he was at home.

  It always seemed as if there was a sudden lack of things to do - or rather, things he needed to do. He was, after all, a person who thrived on schedules and carefully planned itineraries. A man who could be so brutally anal about the way his day was laid out that he’d gone through five personal assistants before he found one that understood the way his mind worked.

  Of course, Marcy was on vacation now - and he was supposed to be too. But things had always been a bit harder for Vlad when it came to taking leisure time.

  It was five in the morning and he was wide awake. By this point, he knew there was no hoping that he would magically go back to sleep. He would simply have to wait until someone else was up and puttering around before he made his appearance - most probably his mother. Next to him, she was the one who rose the earliest. Many a morning had been shared between just the two of them drinking coffee in the kitchen as they discussed how things were going for him in Manhattan.

  But it would be at least another two hours before she even stirred.

  With a sigh, he tucked his hands behind his head, staring at the intricate whorls of paint that decorated the ceiling of his room. Though they were meant to be random, he had no problem seeing a pattern in them - reading them almost as if he would have read an equation. The first time he’d mentioned this to any of his brothers, they had merely looked at him as though he were some kind of oddity - all of them except Ethan, that was. When it came to mathematical patterns, Ethan was as close to as savant as it was possible to be.

  But he was nowhere near as uptight as his elder brother.

  Ethan was, arguably, the most relaxed of them all - and Vlad only thought so because Alistair’s idea of relaxation was probably something that involved endangering his life. His oldest brother often liked to insist that a little base jumping or cliff diving would clear Vladimir’s mind, and Vlad always made sure that Alistair knew, in no uncertain terms, that he wouldn’t be taking his life in his hands anytime soon. He felt completely comfortable leaving that to the Scottish man, and periodic check-ins were the only reminder he needed that Alistair would like nothing more than to toss his entire family off the edge of a cliff.

  With bungee cords attached, of course.

  Their father had done it once - much to Vladimir’s shock. The man was nearing seventy, yet he liked to indulge Alistair’s crazy schemes every once in a while. When the Scot had suggested bungee-jumping from the highest platform in the world while on a business trip in Macau, Jackson Kensley had actually accepted.

  When his wife found out three weeks later, she had given him a massive earful. Sixty- eight-year-old men, she insisted, weren’t made for bungee jumping! They were supposed to rein in their sons’ crazier impulses! But that, of course, had fallen to Vlad. Things always fell to Vlad, in that respect. He was supposed to be the responsible one.

  It was a role he didn’t take lightly.

  Shifting onto his side, Vlad searched the slowly lightening horizon outside. The sun would be rising soon, and when it did, it would bathe the family estate in warm, golden light as far as the eye could see.

  He could remember the very first time he had watched the sunrise on Kensley grounds. He had been a thirteen-year-old boy, barely able to speak English, wondering what on earth his future would be like. At the time, he had been in the United States for a single week, most of which he had spent sequestered in his room trying to figure out how to get back to where he had come from. He decided, stubbornly, that he didn’t like this new country, or the man who had brought him here.

  How foolish he’d been.

  The first time he’d ever seen the sun rise over the grounds, he had been hell-bent on running away - though he didn’t know where he was returning to. As a child, he had been willful, stubborn and unquestionably rebellious - enough so that now, he was surprised by how much he’d changed. At age thirteen, the first light of morning had meant it was time to make his move - to pack all he could find to hawk for money and make his way from the manor into the strangeness of a country that wasn’t his own.

  To this day, he had no idea how his father had known what he was planning - just that Jackson Kensley had been waiting for him in the entry hall -presumably to thwart him. To young Vladimir’s great surprise the man hadn’t tried to keep him from leaving. Jackson had merely fixed him with those intense, piercing gray eyes of his and opened the door for him, providing a sure path of escape.

  He hadn’t taken it. Whether it was because he was intimidated by the man he would come to call father, or that some more mature part of him realized the mistake he would be making, Vladimir had merely dropped his bag of loot and hurried back to his room. Jackson had never asked him where he might have been going, and he had never apologized for his attempt at flight. It was a silent agreement between he and his father.

  Kensley manor was his home now - perhaps more than Manhattan would ever be, even though he’d been living in the city for almost the past decade. Here, there were fewer professional pressures on him, even if he still felt the pressures of the Kensley family rather acutely.

  A sudden knock on his door startled him, and he sat up, his expression curious. Who the hell was up and about at this hour? “Who is it?”

  “I’m jetlagged out of my mind.” At the sound of his younger brother’s voice, Vlad found himself smiling slightly. “And I assumed you’d be awake. Can I come in?”

  “Of course.” When the door opened, Toshiro was standing on the threshold. Vlad and the younger man were hardly ever in the same place at the same time, as Shiro was constantly on the move. Where Vlad was required to stay in Manhattan almost constantly, Toshiro never got to put roots down -such was the nature of their respective positions - and as such, they were slightly envious of one another.

  “Surprised to see you here.” The Japanese man looked, as always, as put together as if he hadn’t been sleeping at all. He tightened the belt on his blue yukata before crossing the room to sink into an armchair near the window with a sigh. “Never thought you would leave the office in the middle of a budget review.”

  “Yes, well - blame our mother. She guilt-tripped me into it.”

  “Ah, well,” Shiro’s lips curved upward into a knowing smile. “That explains a lot. I almost felt guilty for taking a few days off myself.”

  Vlad frowned immediately. “Why? You probably take less personal time in a year than I do.”

  “Well,” Shiro sighed, ruffling his short cropped black hair thoughtfully. “You are technically my boss.”

  The statement was enough to make Vlad eye him in warning. “Christ, it’s too early for that, Shiro. Don’t start.”

  “Well, you know what otou-san always says,” Toshiro chuckled. “The early bird catches the worm.”

  “Right.” Vlad rolled his eyes. “And the jetlagged brother catches Vladimir off-guard in the early hours.”

  “Something like that.” Vlad usually wasn’t one for teasing, but Toshiro smiled so seldom that he couldn’t help but find himself grinning in return.

  “So, how was China?” He changed the subject, far more interested in his brother’s travels than his own insomnia. Toshiro sighed, reaching into the pocket of his robe to extract a small bamboo pipe. The Japanese man had never smoked and didn’t plan to, but he didn’t like his hands to be idle. He spun the pipe between his fingers carelessly as he spoke.

  “Same as usual. They’re not particularly enthusiastic about dealing with a Japanese man.”

  “If they want our father’s business, they’ll learn to be a bit more accommodating. Vladimir’s frown had returned. While he was perfectly aware of the history of enmity between China and Japan, there was no part of him that believed it justified for all Chinese to dislike all Japanese, and vice versa. They weren’
t about to replace Toshiro anytime soon, so, instead of facing the wrath of Jackson Kensley, the Chinese behaved themselves.

  For the most part.

  “They put you up in a better hotel this time, at least.”

  “Oh, yes.” Toshiro chuckled. “This one even had running water.”

  Vlad made a disapproving sound in his throat before his brother smirked. “Teasing, Vlad. You were never very good at being teased.”

  The Russian sighed, “I suppose I’m always a bit on edge.”

  Toshiro arched a brow, the pipe stilling against his palm. “Don’t tell me you’re still worried about that deal with South Africa. That went off without a hitch months ago.”

  “No, no.” Vladimir waved him off, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed to stand and stretch briefly before joining the younger man by the window. “There’s a big summit coming up in Chicago next month and I’m supposed to be presenting the results of our sales last quarter-”

  “Vlad, you’re obsessed. Really.” Toshiro’s dark-eyed gaze locked onto him as he addressed his elder brother frankly. “Has it ever occurred to you that you’re the reason everything is running smoothly?”

  Leaning against the wall, Vladimir crossed lean arms over his chest. “Father’s the reason everything runs smoothly. He always has been. He’s the one who built this company from the ground up - and when he leaves…” Vlad trailed off, his brow furrowing. He didn’t know if he wanted to think about what would happen when their father retired. Of course, their old man had never properly announced it, but it was to be assumed that Vlad would be the one to take over as CEO.

  The thought was more than a little intimidating.

  “When he leaves, you’ll be ready to take his place.” Toshiro finished for him. Far from being kind or ingratiating - his tone was matter-of-fact - as if he couldn’t imagine anything less than the vision he painted occurring. “To blow him out of the water, even.”