Unforgettable Heroes Boxed Set

by James, Maddie

  He’d be happy to follow through on number four, which was to call her assistant and confirm his home address for the check. That was only because Tiny was waiting for his money. Otherwise, he’d tell Lil exactly what to do with her cash. And her list. Especially the sentence at the bottom that read, “Don’t watch porn channel. Will show up on bill.”

  That was the final straw. He called the front desk. And about time he figured Lillian was walking into the hotel, Wes was in the last available seat on a Detroit-bound flight, his hands clenching the armrests of his seat as he reminded himself again that he was safer in the air than in rush hour traffic.

  When the plane hit a pocket of turbulence, bouncing him in his seat, he forgot about statistics. Instead, behind his closed eyelids, he saw Lillian’s face. Saw her laughing at him on the dance floor at the shelter house. Heard her teasing him about his crunchy coffee. Felt her body exploding under his in a wordless orgasm, one hundred percent woman, one hundred percent his.

  The sense of loss that filled him didn’t stop when he got to his own house, took a shower in his own bathroom and crawled under the covers of his own bed. He didn’t want to sleep there alone. For the first time in his life, he wanted a woman beside him.

  He wanted Lillian. Who’d made it very plain that there was never going to be room for him in her life.

  Chapter Twelve

  Lillian stared down at the brochure in front of her, knowing she should be filled with pride but instead feeling nothing but emptiness. She’d known it was a mistake to go back to that damned campground. There had been nothing there for her but regrets. And memories.

  When she’d pitched the idea to Frank, it had made sense. He was proud of being a Kentuckian, and she was pretty sure that insisting that the state park be used in the inaugural publicity campaign had gained her valuable points when Frank compared the advertising agencies vying for this contract. She hadn’t realized how painful it would be to go back without Wes.

  “Lillian, Mr. Lovejoy is here.”

  Her assistant stood in the doorway. Lillian forced a smile and said, “Send him in.”

  Frank hadn’t come alone. His personal assistant was with him, along with the company’s public relations director had accompanied him and the Midwest sales manager. Lillian forced her mind away from Wes and back onto the work she’d already done, and the work that was left to do. A month ago, she was dying for this campaign and now she hated it.

  Or maybe Wes, who had made her look at her priorities.

  Before she met him, before she experienced the difference between making love and having sex, she’d had her life mapped out. No surprises. No room for failure.

  Yet here she was, well on her way to achieving everything on her list of goals, and something was missing. The excitement she’d expected maybe. The thrill of jumping from modest regional success into the big leagues.

  Taking a deep breath, she pasted a smile on her face and said, “It’s nice to see you again, Frank,” allowing herself to be pulled into a warm and reassuring hug. She memorized names as he introduced his associates and dimmed the lights to begin her presentation of what she’d accomplished so far.

  Much to her relief, everyone seemed enthused. Which was a great thing, since she knew she didn’t have it in her to start from scratch again. She couldn’t bear to go back to Kentucky for more research.

  “Please wait outside for me.” Frank’s tone was quiet, but his people moved quickly. He waited until the door had shut behind them, then tipped his head and studied Lillian.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Lillian squared her shoulders and straightened her jacket hem.

  “Everything’s fine, Frank.”

  He shook his head slowly back and forth. “Don’t lie to me, honey. I’ve got daughters of my own, remember, not much younger than you. You’ve got big circles under your eyes and you’ve lost a good ten pounds since I saw you last. You aren’t sick, are you?”

  She almost blurted out “heartsick,” but stopped herself in time. Frank believed she had a happy little life, running this business during the day and going home at night to a rose-covered cottage with Wes. She couldn’t afford to let him know any different.

  Frank leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest. “Anything you’d like to share with me?”

  Lillian shook her head. “I told you, everything’s just fine.”

  “Oh, I see. There’s nothing you’d like to get off your chest…like how you and Wes are going through a bad patch, maybe? You look like a woman with man trouble.”

  Lillian looked him in the eye and lied.

  “Things with Wes are great. I wish he’d been able to drop by to see you today, but he’s just so busy.”

  “You can drop the pretense.” His voice was gentle, and so was his grip as he reached out and took her hand in his. “I know you’re not married to Wes. I know you’re not married to anyone.”

  Her heart began to pound. If Frank knew she’d lied about having a husband, would he trust her about anything else? Everyone knew what a straight arrow he was.

  Before she could blurt out another lie, Frank stood.

  “Wes called me the day after he got back here,” he said. “He told me everything, and he told me why you did it. You made a mistake, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t a decent woman with one hell of a creative mind. In fact, I’d say you’re the kind of woman who’s going to call that young man after I leave and thank him for all he’s done for you.”

  Lillian stared after him, frozen inside, as he walked out of the conference room and left her alone with her conscience. Frank was right. She should call Wes and apologize for dragging him into this. So he was a little rough around the edges. He was a good man, an honest man, who didn’t deserve the treatment she’d dished out.

  She walked down the hall to her office, shutting the door behind her. She picked up the phone to dial Wes before she lost her nerve. She stopped, realizing she had no idea what his number was. Turning to her computer, she pulled up the vendor and client list, but found only his name and a post office box number.

  Sighing, she leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. She couldn’t begin to find him in a city this size. No way at all.

  Tears prickled the back of her eyelids and her bottom lip began to quiver. She’d made such a mess of things. After years of wishing for a relationship, she’d blown her chance to have a one. To find love and give love.

  Then it hit her. She might not know where the elusive Wes Hatfield lived, but she knew where to find him.

  Now if she had the courage to follow through…

  “Put me down for a buck!” Wes shouted to the sweet young thing taking bets on the Pistons game as he lined up his next shot at the pool table. It was nice to be back here at Smokey’s, where he could get a hamburger off the grill anytime and no one harangued him about his survival skills or lack thereof. He’d spent every evening here since he’d gotten back, truly appreciating the tang of an ice-cold beer and the not-so-witty repartee of Smokey’s customers.

  He pulled back his cue and thrust it forward against the small white ball, listening to the crack of the cue ball against the cluster of solid balls at the end of the table.

  The blonde playing against him leaned against the wall, knee bent, showing off to best advantage her long legs in her short skirt.

  There was a time when he’d have accepted that invitation. He’d have escorted her over to one of the booths in the secluded part of the bar, bought her a drink, and sweet-talked her until he decided whether he wanted to take her home or not.

  That was before Lillian had infected him. He hadn’t met a woman since his return without comparing her to his dragon lady.

  Every one of them had failed. Oh, sure, some of them had been every bit as pretty, and some had been great conversationalists. But they hadn’t been her.

  “You gonna shoot, stud?” A sultry voice brought him back to the here and now. He nodded and drew his cue back
again.

  His heart wasn’t in the game. He missed an easy shot, yielded the table to the blonde and lost in short order. Paying off the bet he’d made, he handed her a dollar and went to a booth at the back.

  Alone.

  He’d just signaled for a beer when the door opened and a woman walked in.

  Instead of heading for a stool at the bar, like most of the women, she stopped just inside the door and looked around. Her gaze swept the room until she found what she was looking for.

  Then, wavering only the tiniest bit in her four-inch heels, she made her way to the booth where Wes sat slumped against the wall.

  “Mind if I join you?” Her voice was low, throaty and full of invitation.

  Wes was about to murmur an automatic “Not interested” when he looked at her.

  And looked again.

  She was magnificent.

  Hair moussed and teased into a mane.

  Pink T-shirt with “Princess” printed in silver across her generous bosom.

  Purple tiger-striped leggings that encased a pair of the longest, sexiest legs he’d ever seen.

  Finished off with hot pink spike heels matched the tiny purse slung over her shoulder.

  She lowered herself into the seat across from him.

  “How did you do at the car show?” she asked, tipping her head to watch him.

  “Came in first in my division and fourth overall. Already got a couple of jobs from it.”

  “I’m so happy for you.” Lillian’s hand covered his. “I’ll bet those are just the first.”

  Joy at seeing her and confusion as to why she’d shown up in Smokey’s warred inside Wes. No way had she been pining for him. Two months had passed since they packed up their camping gear and he hadn’t heard a single word from her. Even the check had carried a rubber stamp signature.

  “You get the contract?”

  She nodded. “Frank was in yesterday to see the preliminary work. He seemed pleased.”

  “Why wouldn’t he be?” Wes held up his beer bottle and wiggled it toward the waitress. “You’re the best he could get.”

  Lillian tipped her head in a show of modesty before reaching into the tiny hot pink purse to pull out a small envelope.

  “I hoped you’d be here,” she purred, “because I wanted to deliver this in person.”

  She picked up his newly delivered beer and brought the bottle to her lips. He swallowed hard as she took a tiny sip, lowered the bottle and ran a finger across her bottom lip.

  Standing, she leaned toward him, offering a long look at her full breasts. He was too surprised to pull back when she kissed him, long and hard, before straightening up and walking away. A few feet from him, she stopped, looked over her shoulder at him and said, “You might want to read that right away. It’s a limited time offer.”

  Before he could recover, she had disappeared out the door. He slid from the booth and raced to the street, but she was gone.

  “Lillian!” He called her name anyway.

  A bag lady passing by hurried her steps as he screamed louder, “Lil! Where are you?”

  There was no answer. He heard only the sound of a train whistle somewhere in the distance and the usual traffic noise. Slumping against a signpost, he turned the envelope she’d given him over in his hand, then slid a finger under the edge of the sealed flap and opened it.

  Inside he found a note. And a key.

  A smile broke across his face as he read, one that became a grin as he realized what it meant. Running to his Javelin, he jumped in and gunned the motor. She’d given him an hour. He wanted to go right now, but first he had to stop by his house, grab a fast shower and put on something more suitable than his oil-smeared jeans and faded tee.

  Forty-eight minutes later, wearing khakis and a navy sweater, he walked into the luxury hotel. He went straight to the elevators and rode alone to the 18th floor. At the door of 1812, he inserted the key card, turned the handle and stepped inside.

  Candlelight lit the spacious room, reflecting against the mirror that faced the bed and illuminating the woman in the lacy negligee who stood in front of him, a flute of champagne in her hand.

  “You came.” The filmy material of her gown flipped around her ankles as she moved toward him. She stopped inches from him and handed him the glass of bubbly.

  “You look…” he couldn’t find the words to tell her how gorgeous she was.

  “Hot?” she suggested, wrapping her arms around his neck.

  “Sexy?” She pressed closer, her hips against his, her fingers weaving into his hair.

  Wes swallowed hard. He’d had a lot of fantasies about this woman since he’d come to his lonely bed, but none of them could compare to this.

  He hoped she didn’t expect a reply, because he wasn’t able to speak. All he could do was drain the glass, and press his lips against hers, claiming her the way he had in his fantasies for the last month. She clung to him, moaning as the kiss deepened and his arms tightened around her.

  ****

  Lillian lost herself in his embrace, surrendered to the awakening demands of her body. She wanted him. She needed him. Now, at last, she had him again.

  She barely realized when the kiss ended and she was in his arms, being carried toward the wide bed dominating the space. Wes moved slowly through the dim room, his eyes on her, whispering to her all the things he intended to do before this night was over.

  Lillian reached up and placed a finger against his lips to stop him.

  “Not the bed,” she murmured. “Not yet.”

  Wes frowned in confusion.

  Lillian favored him with a mischievous smile.

  “Humor me. For sentiment’s sake.” She pointed toward a dark corner of the room, where a thick candle threw shadows against a familiar sight.

  Hours later, snuggled together inside the tent Wes never expected to see again, he ran his hand lazily over her naked body and smiled in satisfaction at the shiver of that ran through her.

  “Keep that up and we’ll never make it over to the bed,” Lillian warned as he bent his head down to press his lips between the cleft of her breasts.

  “We’ll get there,” Wes answered, his hand marking a lazy trail down her stomach. “If not tonight, tomorrow.

  “On our honeymoon.”

  “Honeymoon?” Lillian gasped. “You want to marry me?”

  Wes laughed, low and soft. “I think it’s high time you made an honest man out of me.” He rolled over on top of her. “We can get a license when the courthouse opens tomorrow, and by ten we can make this legal.”

  “You’re serious?”

  Wes nodded. “Serious as sin.”

  “My mother will never forgive me if I cheat her out of a wedding to plan.”

  “So we’ll get married twice.” Wes kissed her to silence her objections. That kiss led to another and then far more. Much later, as they showered together in the spacious stall, Lillian looked up at him with wide eyes.

  “Oh, I forgot. And this is important.”

  “More important than this?” He ran a finger along her side.

  “Very.” Lillian shut off the water and grabbed a towel. “I’ve been working hard at this so come on.”

  A bemused Wes wrapped a towel around his waist and followed her to a napkin-covered tray at the table near the window. Lillian pulled off the cloth with a cry of “Ta da!”

  Wes began to laugh. And was still smiling after Lillian lit a fat candle and soon handed him a perfectly made s’more.

  THE END

  SINS OF THE FATHER

  (Inspired by the Classic Fairy Tale Sleeping Beauty)

  Janet Eaves

  Prologue

  “What an incredibly bea-uuu-teee-ful child!”

  Jorge and Leigh DeLaCourt threw startled glances at each other over the head of their infant daughter. The comment was something they'd gotten used to hearing time and again since her birth six weeks earlier, but not shouted, and not said with such disgust. They didn't look to ackno
wledge the owner of the voice. The comment and tone, under the circumstances, was glaringly inappropriate, but being the people they were they graciously ignored the interruption and focused on the moment.

  They stood beside the baptism basin located at the front of the ornately decorated, gilded sanctuary they'd donated millions to fund as their priest spoke in Latin to bless their new baby. Doting on each other as much as their new miracle, they locked gazes as family and friends, and even local, state, and national politicians looked on.

  The press was there in numbers, too, tucked up in the balconies though only one special photographer was present. He and he alone, would get the exclusive close-up shots of the baby girl. The pictures would then be sold around the world. The proceeds from those greedily awaited pictures had already been promised to the DeLaCourts pet charities. From Children without Corn, to Pet’s Without Partners, and all those fortunate charities in between would benefit from their generosity.

  Of course the media had deemed the DeLaCourts the Golden Couple years before, and now, after a decade with only each other to adore, Aurora was their Golden Child. Their lives were blessed. Everything they ventured had turned to gain. And it never occurred to them that it would change. After all, they were considered self-made American royalty.

  Genteel.

  Polished.

  Untouchable.

  Beside them stood Phillip and Jessica Princeton, their dearest friends and the godparents of their sweet Aurora. Tall Phillip cuddled tiny Jessica as she held their toddler in her arms. With sophisticated grace they listened to the priest, and then vowed to play their role in young Aurora’s life. Their son, named Phillip just like his father, was also a beautiful child with his riot of curly chestnut hair and deep brown eyes with their unfairly long, dark lashes. And though he was but a few years old they all knew that one day he would take over for his father and run the family’s variety of businesses.