Unforgettable Heroes Boxed Set

by James, Maddie

  Ever since Richard had brought it home, he couldn’t walk out of his room without admiring it. But today, he looked at the painting of the dark-haired beauty and his stomach fluttered. He had butterflies, of all things—butterflies that made him half sick.

  As he laid his hand on his stomach, his cell rang. He jerked it out of his pocket and checked the display. Richard.

  “Hey.”

  “I have good news,” Richard stated. “She’s agreed to meet.”

  Grayson respired a long forceful breath. “What did you tell her?”

  “Well, I told her what you asked me to say. That a colleague of mine was very impressed with her work and wanted to meet her.”

  “And you told her you would pick her up for dinner?”

  “Yes, Gray. I told Chloe everything you wanted me to say and nothing more.”

  Grayson sat on the edge of the bed, his whole body quivering as he thought about his little scheme. “Was she suspicious?”

  “Why should she be?”

  “I don’t know. I’m just…”

  “Gray,” Richard said, stopping him from babbling thoughtlessly. “Everything’s going to be fine. I told her my driver would pick her up at eight sharp. So, she’s expecting someone to be there…it better be you.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be there.”

  “You’d better be. My ass is on the line here, you know.”

  “I know,” Grayson said. “I won’t let you down.”

  ****

  Grayson sat in the back seat of the black stretch limo he’d rented for the night, his heart pounding like a bass drum. Never had he been so tense about a woman or the moment leading up to a date. Even on his first prom date, he was Mr. Joe Cool. Tonight, he felt like the geeky teenager who finally achieved getting the popular girl to cave and say ‘yes’ to him.

  He looked out the darkly-tinted window at the passing street lights and the eclectic night life of Beacon Hill. It was part of the reason he loved Boston so much with its quaint little restaurants and unusual boutiques tucked within the eccentric-style nightspots and clubs. There was something for everyone on Beacon Hill.

  But all Grayson wanted was Chloe LaRoche.

  He wanted her so badly he could taste it. Absently, he licked his lips, imagining her sweet mouth on his. He remembered the feel of her kiss, the way she tilted her head slightly as though she were sinking into it. It was so easy to envision his mouth aggressively taking over hers, claiming her lips with an insatiable hunger.

  His a fancy silver and black striped ascot suddenly feltt too tight around his neck. He slipped his fingers beneath his tuxedo collar and pulled on it, wishing he could lower his window. He needed fresh air, but he needed his plan to come off without a hitch even more. If he let down the window, then he’d risk Chloe seeing him prematurely. He definitely didn’t want that to happen until she was inside the limo and secured within a moving vehicle.

  Suddenly, the inside window separating him from the driver opened. “We’re coming up on Charles Street, sir.”

  Grayson tried to act like he was in complete control of himself. He uttered a deep, composed version of a ‘thank you’ and slid far away from the door.

  And waited.

  He had no idea how fast his heart could beat until he felt the limo come to a halt.

  Chapter Eleven

  Chloe stepped out of her shop and onto the red brick pavement, dressed to the hilt in a cute little black dress, excited for this grand opportunity. When Mr. Fitzgerald had told her about his colleague wanting to meet her, he never said it was going to be such a formal affair. She could only assume he was another one of those ‘Mr. James Hollingsworth’ types who had money to burn and a lifetime supply of matches.

  As the driver circled the front of the shiny black limo, she took a moment to calm herself. A few deep breaths did wonders for her nerves and when the driver opened the door for her, she was ready.

  She stepped inside and sat down on the closest seat available, the size of its spacious interior overwhelming her. The only time she had ever traveled in a limo was for a friend’s wedding and there were so many people crammed into it, it felt more like a clown car.

  From the far corner of the vehicle, her eyes fell on a figure of a man sitting in the dark shadow. She waved to him, assuming it was Mr. Fitzgerald, and wished Evelyn could’ve come with her. It disappointed her that Evelyn had a pre-engagement. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be a long ride to the restaurant.

  As soon as the limo pulled away from the curb, Mr. Fitzgerald slid closer to her seat. Only it wasn’t Mr. Fitzgerald.

  Her eyes widened as the interior lights came on. Her first impulse was to run away. But she was in a moving vehicle.

  Trapped.

  Anger flooded her senses and an uncomfortable heat rose up her neck. She didn’t know whether to be mad at Mr. Fitzgerald for tricking her or furious at…at…whatever his freakin’ name was!

  Desperation got the better of her and she reached for the handle of the door and tried it anyway. It was locked, which was just as well because she probably would’ve jumped out of the limo regardless of its speed.

  She had always wondered what she’d feel if she ever saw Mr. Gyration again. If she ever ran into the man who treated her so rudely. So coldly. Now, though completely unprepared for it, she had found out.

  Chloe glared back at him, feeling like a caged animal, helpless. And she did what any normal irritated Bostonian would’ve done. She flipped him the bird.

  ****

  Grayson didn’t know too many signs in sign language, but he certainly knew that one. He did his best to hide the humor he had found in her obscene gesture and scooted closer to her.

  As he expected, she inched further away, all the way against the door. What he hadn’t predicted was watching her grab the hem of her short black dress and jerk it down her thighs as if she thought his only reason for being with her was to come on to her.

  “What do you want?” Chloe signed crossly.

  Grayson assumed she’d ask that, and he had practiced the answer weeks ahead of time. He held his hands in front of him for a few seconds, trying to remember the correct string of gestures. “I want to apologize to you.”

  Chloe’s brows raised, unable to hide her surprise at the unbelievable notion of him signing, and he was glad to see he had her full attention. He tried again. “I do not deserve much from you, but will you at least give me the chance to apologize?” At the end of his question, he circled his open hand on his chest, depicting a sincere ‘please.’

  She glanced out her window, pondering. He knew she wanted to give him a piece of her mind and was fighting the urge not to. When she finally looked back in his direction, he saw a softness there. The hard lines of her face relaxed and an angelic beauty re-emerge before him. Reluctantly, she nodded.

  Relief washed over him. He touched his mouth and let his hand fall into his other hand, a smile twitching the corners of his mouth.

  Okay, Grayson…just like you practiced. Don’t mess it up.

  Again he lifted his hands in front of him, readying himself for his big speech. He hated that his hands trembled. There was no way to hide his nervousness in front of her. For the first time, he felt vulnerable. Less of a man.

  Still, he trudged forward.

  He began with an introduction since they’d never exchanged names. He patted his chest and tapped his first two fingers of both hands together. “Hello. My name is Grayson Anders.” He took more care in finger-spelling his name, making sure he accounted for every letter correctly. “And I am an asshole.”

  Immediately, Chloe brought her hand up to her mouth to hide the smile. He smiled back, pleased that he had gotten the reaction he wanted from his amusing profane gesture, and pressed forward.

  “From the moment I first saw you, I knew you were someone I had to meet. And from the moment you danced with me, I knew I had found the only dance partner for me. For years, I had searched. No one had made me feel so sure of my
self as you had. It was the reason I pursued you so adamantly. When I walked into your shop, I saw the real woman behind the passion. I’ve never felt this way for any other woman before. You moved me. You touched a place within me, once guarded by walls of wariness. But when I found out you were deaf, I was scared. And selfish. I forgot how connected we were. All I could think about was how my world had been turned upside down, never thinking it was I who barged into yours.”

  Grayson closed his eyes, trying to get through the last part. He knew it would prove to be the most difficult for he was about to lay bare his soul to a woman, one he risked losing if he didn’t say the right things.

  He felt a touch on his leg and glanced down to find her slender hand on his knee. He looked at her, his heart pounding as their eyes caught and held.

  Grayson swallowed back his rising fears and continued. “Being away from you has made me realize how much I need you. How much I need you in my life. I know we have a language barrier, but I’ve been working hard to amend that, as you can see.”

  He saw pity in her eyes now. It wasn’t what he planned for, but he’d take sympathy if it kept her attentive.

  Gathering his bravado once more, he thought through the last part of his practiced apology. Shit. He forgot the sign for ‘willing.’

  Panic struck him and his mouth went dry. How could he forget the most important part of his oration? He had rehearsed it so many times in the past weeks that he could almost do it in his sleep. Behind the safety of enclosed doors, it came easy. Now, he was drawing a complete blank.

  Desperate to finish his words exactly the way he had prepared them, he spun around on his seat and pulled out his translator from his suit pocket, hiding it behind his body.

  Frantically, he typed in the word and waited for the woman to appear on the screen with the sign. She touched her chest with an open hand and moved it away from her body in a single leaping motion.

  Dammit, he knew that. Frustrated with himself, he pocketed the device. But as he turned back around, he almost bumped heads with Chloe, for she had come close enough to look over his shoulder.

  As they stared at each other, their noses nearly touching, it was obvious to him Chloe had seen the gadget he tried to hide. Automatically, his mouth fell open, and he closed it just as quickly. It was only natural for him to want to use words, but he swore he wasn’t going to take the easy route with her. She deserved more.

  He slipped his fist between them with his thumb up, careful not to touch her in any way, and made two circular motions on his chest for the word ‘sorry.’

  She glanced down at his heartfelt signal and signed back, “Why?”

  Grayson tensed. He didn’t know how to sign his answer. He racked his brain, trying to remember bits and pieces of the sign language he did know.

  Nothing.

  Chloe raised her open hand to her face and tapped the side of her fingers to her chin, motioning him to just speak the words.

  “Too easy,” he signed in return.

  Chloe closed her eyes and hung her head slightly. But he knew that look. The way her brows furrowed and her lips thinned, he knew she was talking herself into something. But what, he couldn’t come close to guessing.

  “What. If,” she said word by word. “I. Spoke. Too?”

  Grayson didn’t mean to let his mouth gape open, but it dropped beyond his control. She had just spoken to him! More importantly, he was able to hear a voice—her voice. It was a bit monotone, but it was there and he was thrilled. “You can talk?”

  She nodded. “I don’t like to though.”

  Grayson felt her pulling away, embarrassed, and grabbed her arms, keeping her near. “Why? Why don’t you like to speak?”

  She grimaced as she tried so desperately to enunciate each word in her reply. “Because I know it doesn’t sound….” She paused, glancing away, “as good to the hearing ears of the world.”

  “You’re wrong. Your voice is the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard. You should never be ashamed of it.”

  She shrugged him off.

  “I’m serious,” he said, reaching up to touch her cheek. “I’m honored you would share the sound of your voice with me. It took a lot of courage for you to do that.”

  “No more than you trying to sign for me. I’m just trying to get used to being deaf in a hearing world. As much as I’ve learned to accept my deafness and adapt to it, there’s still a part of my old life that I can’t let go of. And you’re the first person who’s allowed me to hold on to both.”

  Grayson smiled, hearing her speak to him in a more fluent manner. How idiotic he was to think she couldn’t speak. He should’ve known better than to assume every deaf person was also mute. Given the fact she retained her hearing for most of her life, it would only be logical to still be able to formulate words.

  As he sat before her, he couldn’t remember being so happy. It was not because the so-called language barrier had been slightly removed, but because she had felt comfortable enough with him to let down her guard. Bridging that gap was a huge advancement in their relationship, if you could actually call it one, and he felt this was as good a time as any to take another daunting step.

  “I have something for you,” he stated. “Something else I think you wanted to hold on to.” He slid across to the other seat and patted the place beside him. “Please.”

  Chloe slowly joined him and looked in the direction he was staring, a lingering apprehension still present. Sitting on the floor of the limo, resting against the seat, parallel to theirs, was a large present wrapped in yellow paper and an oversized matching bow.

  “Go on,” he urged.

  He watched her slide to the edge of the seat, her dress inching up her thighs. Knock it off, he warned, dragging his eyes from the sight of her shapely legs. Baby steps, you idiot. He may have convinced his eyes to look away, but the rest of his body didn’t care for the idea. Beneath his tuxedo pants, there was a lot of opposition rising.

  He shifted in his seat, nonchalantly covering his lap with an arm, and waited patiently for her to unwrap the gift. She was methodical in removing the bow, as if breaking it would be bad luck. Then, in one swift movement, she tore the corner of the paper away, revealing what was underneath.

  He could’ve sworn he heard her gasp, but it was so low he could’ve more likely dreamt it. He could have yearned for it so strongly that his ears invented the beautiful sound. When her hands ripped away the rest of the paper, he knew he had struck a cord regardless. As she gawked at her “Adonis At Rest” painting, her face glowed and her chocolate-brown eyes were bright with excitement.

  She looked at him and back at the canvas again, her lips slightly parted as if in wonder. “You…bought it?” she asked as she signed simultaneously.

  He could tell she still felt uneasy about using her voice and that was fine by him. He didn’t need long orations from her. He was just glad she tried.

  “Yes,” Grayson admitted proudly. “Richard Fitzgerald is a good friend of mine. And he called me the minute he saw it. Now I know what you’re thinking,” he spurted out. “That because of my relationship with Richard, you’re being featured in his gallery. But nothing could be further from the truth. All I did was tell him where he could find you. Richard is a very particular man and doesn’t exhibit anyone at R. Fitzgerald Gallery if they don’t meet his standards. And trust me, they are extremely high.”

  Chloe took hold of the painting with both hands and stared at it for a long time, her eyes focusing on the man sleeping in the soft pastel sheets. There was reverence in the way she gazed at it and Grayson merely waited in silence, giving her all the time she needed.

  He saw a tear slip from her eye and roll down her cheek.

  He sat up straighter and caught the tear on the tip of his finger, turning her face toward him. “Don’t cry, Chloe. I didn’t do this to hurt you.”

  “I’m not hurting inside,” Chloe explained, combining her voice with hand signals. “I’m touched. This is the swee
test thing anyone has ever done for me.”

  He brushed her hair away from her face, taking in this moment. She was talking with him. Even though she spoke with her hands as well, it was amazing to watch her do it so adeptly. He was mesmerized by what she could do: read lips, sign, paint, dance. And now added to that list was talk.

  It was a blessed moment, indeed. Even better was knowing he could remain close to her, touch her, and she would no longer try to escape. He cupped her face, stroking her ever so softly with his thumb. “So, these are good tears?”

  “Yes.”

  Her reply came out in a sensual whisper, its erotic flare tickling him in all the wrong places. It was almost impossible for him to restrain himself. All he wanted to do was take her in his arms and give in to temptation. He wanted to kiss her in the same fashion as the night they met, without reserve, or shame. He wanted it badly. When he thought of how many weeks it had been since he felt her lips on his, it felt like an eternity. It seemed so long ago since he had tasted her that if he decided to kiss her right now, there was a good chance it would feel like the first time all over again.

  He spaced out, remembering their first kiss in the stairwell of his building. To his surprise, she had turned, measured him up for a few seconds, and pulled his face into hers with both hands. He recalled the uncertain exploration of her tongue, and how damn hard it was to just stand there and let her test the waters. Torture him.

  If it hadn’t been for the two shot glasses in his hand, he probably wouldn’t have let her kiss him that way. But every man has his limits, and when she slanted her mouth over his, opening herself to him, he remembered kissing those boundaries goodbye and never looking back.

  What was holding him back now?

  He didn’t know. He had always heard that one could look in the eyes of a woman and just know it was meant to be, but he never really understood how that could be possible until now. As he gazed upon her, he found comfort there and he was perfectly content to drown in her eyes.