BEASTLY LOVE BOX SET: Romance Collection

by Lindsey Hart

  This isn’t just because he’s attractive or because I’m attracted at the moment. No, what she felt in that moment, the depth of her desire, though she could remember none of their histories, could only be explained by a deep and abiding want. An unsated want. Or was it more than that? Do I love him? Really love him?

  She was so shocked at the thought that her entire body went rigid. She slowly swept her eyes over Dallas’ face, waiting for the soft spot in her chest. It came instantly, along with a hard rush of heat.

  Why? Why do I care? Why not? What was there about Dallas that was really so off-putting? What was there not to love?

  When Leena asked herself the question, turned it around, she had no answer. Dallas could obviously be difficult, but she sensed what people saw was just the proverbial tip of the iceberg. Dallas was incredibly talented. A genius even. She felt a stab in her chest, a sense of almost envy that she could only define as hero worship. She was amazed at the work he did. She’d read through the score they’d written together and was completely dazed that she’d ever been talented enough to reach his level, that he’d appreciated her work enough to keep it next to his. Her name was even on it, right there on the paper beside his.

  He obviously had something going on. Had she ever known what it was? Was Dallas sick or was he just… a little manic? What did it mean to truly be a genius? He obviously had racing thoughts, but what other demons did he tackle? Was he really so anxious that he never went outside? Was he afraid? She was sure that wasn’t all anxiety was. It wasn’t just fear.

  There was something about me. In some way, I was able to help him. I’ve been there when no one else would have been.

  She knew she shouldn’t have done it. She knew it was wrong, but she couldn’t stop herself. Leena pushed up on her elbow. She gently reached out, her hand shaking so badly she was afraid she’d wake Dallas when she ever so lightly traced the outline of his bottom lip.

  His skin was so soft. Even chapped it was still the most wondrous thing she’d ever felt in her life. Stop. I have to stop. But she didn’t. She caressed his top lip so gently it was like she wasn’t touching him at all. It was fire. It was white hot heat that soared through her veins, that wrecked her and ignited her and breathed back the most amazing life into her heart and soul.

  I’ve loved him for half my life. She didn’t know how she knew, but she knew it was true even though she couldn’t remember meeting him or there being a beginning.

  She should have pulled away. She couldn’t. She did remove her hand, but she curled into him. She threw an arm over his broad chest and snuggled against his back. She felt safe there, pressed against him, the man she’d waited almost a decade and a half to truly touch, to be this close to. She closed her eyes and filled her lungs with the scent that was his. The scent of music and passion and the fear of his own mind. She felt her body relaxing, the fear and frustration of the past week draining away. She couldn’t remember a damn thing, but she knew that she was his.

  CHAPTER 9

  Dallas

  Hannah. She was just as beautiful as he remembered. Long, flowing dark hair. Huge, luminous eyes. Full lips, sweetly rounded face and jawline, high cheekbones, the body any man would kill for.

  “Hannah!” He saw her at a distance and called out to her. He realized he was outside, in a field, but he felt none of the usual crippling anxiety or panic.

  She turned slowly, her lips parting. She opened her mouth and sang and her voice was so pure, so sweet, he was sure she was an angel. She smiled at him and her eyes glistened with life. She was so radiant it hurt to look at her. She walked on ahead, parting the sea of green grass that made up the field. The wildflowers around them swayed softly and a gentle breeze ruffled the white sundress Hannah wore.

  “Hannah!” He called again. “Hannah, wait!”

  She stopped and extended a hand. “Dallas.” The way she said his name sent a stab of pain racing straight to his heart. His chest compressed, and his voice caught in his throat. She started walking away, turned and began running. He ran after her, but he couldn’t keep up. He stumbled and fell, but got up and extended his hand, pleading.

  “Hannah! Stop! I love you!”

  That time, she did stop. They stood and stared at each other from a distance. Her smile was soft and sad. “Not anymore.”

  “What do you mean?” Dallas felt hot, stinging moisture on his cheeks. Tears, he realized.

  “You used to love me,” Hannah said gently. “But not anymore. Not for years. Open your eyes, Dallas. It’s not me you need to see.”

  “Hannah!” He called to her, stumbled forward, but she turned and ran, dark hair streaking out behind her and then she was gone. He stood alone in the field, the grass rustling around him. His heart ached.

  Suddenly a black cloud rose overhead, blotting out the sun. The wind picked up. It blew particles from the field around him, dust and grass. They whipped by his face, stinging his cheeks. He tried to run, to find shelter, but he tripped and fell again and then he was falling, falling into blackness.

  Dallas woke with a start. There was a weight on top of his legs, over his chest. He panicked and pushed it off. The blanket went next and then he stood, chest heaving, sweat pouring from his forehead and rolling down his face. His stomach rolled and his legs shook. He remembered that he hadn’t eaten in days. He was weak, far too weak even to stand.

  He slowly sunk down on the edge of the bed and as his eyes focused and the vestiges of the dream faded, he faced Leena, who was slowly sitting up. She ran her hands over her face, as though she could clear away a sleep cut so rudely short. He realized that she had been the weight on top of him. Their legs had been tangled together, her arms wrapped around him.

  “I’m sorry,” he said hoarsely. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No.” She blinked at him, confused. Her hair was tousled about her shoulders, her cheeks flushed, and her eyelashes were stuck together in little starry clumps. “It’s probably the middle of the night…”

  He shrugged. Time had little consequence to him. “I’m going to get up and find something to eat.”

  “There probably isn’t anything. I’ve been too busy to go buy groceries. Minnie stocked my fridge for me, but you’re out of luck.” She paused. “We could go across the hall.”

  “No.”

  “I could, then.”

  “Yes.” He remembered his manners in time. “Please.”

  “What would you like?”

  “Anything? It doesn’t matter. I need to get up and work. Food is just fuel. I only eat to survive. You know that.”

  “No.” She blinked. “I don’t know.” She leveled him with a direct stare. “Were you dreaming?”

  “I wasn’t.” He reached up and ran a hand through his own tangled hair. He realized how stale he smelled and how unkempt he looked. For some reason, he was suddenly self-conscious. This Leena wasn’t the old Leena. This Leena hadn’t seen him at his worst. She hadn’t seen him entirely helpless, paralyzed by his own mind.

  “What happened? All of a sudden I was being shoved off of you and you jumped out of bed like the hounds of hell were after you.”

  “I…”

  “Dallas-”

  Leena slowly unfurled her limbs. She swung her legs off the edge of the bed and stood. She lifted her arms over her head and stretched the kinks out of her back. His eyes strayed to her shirt, which was pulled tight over her breasts. Tight was an understatement. Her shirt strained. His body warmed uncomfortably, and his cock stiffened. He wondered what she looked like with that shirt off, her breasts naked and straining, the nipples peaked in pleasure.

  He gave himself a mental shake. It was the damn dream. He wasn’t in the right frame of mind. He’d never had a thought about Leena like that in his life. He was ashamed to admit he’d been so absorbed he’d barely noticed her other than as a sort of assistant and then as a partner, and much later, almost as an equal. He looked to her for help in the madness, for advice. She was his lifeline. She p
ulled him back time and again from the edge. She saved him from the black watery depths of his troubled soul. He’d never noticed her as a damn woman before.

  “It was Hannah, wasn’t it? You saw her?”

  “No.” He glanced down quickly, but not quickly enough.

  “I knew it,” Leena whispered, wonderment stealing into her voice. “I don’t remember her. Or wait, I do. Sort of. I remember she had long black hair. She was pretty. She was- she was my best friend.”

  “Yes.” Dallas couldn’t look at her.

  “She… god, I can’t remember!” Leena sunk down on the bed and pounded the mattress once with her fist. Dallas had never seen her exhibit any kind of physical violence before. It betrayed just how frustrated she was.

  He slowly looked up and found her studying him. Her eyes burned and cut straight through him. He knew he had to tell her. It wasn’t fair to her. He’d been unfair to her his entire life. Maybe if he did this one thing for her, it would give them both peace.

  “Yes, she was your friend. You came with her because she was afraid of me. She wanted to sing. She was like an angel. The purest voice I had ever heard. I was eager to teach her. You were just… there with her. She wanted the best. She wanted to be on Broadway one day. She was driven, amazing, incredibly beautiful and so very talented.”

  “And you fell in love with her?” The question was asked, void of feeling.

  “Yes. I fell in love with her. Later. Years later. She turned into a beautiful woman. I didn’t want to taint her. I felt like if I ever told her how I felt, I’d ruin her somehow. She was so bright. She improved, over the years. She was ready. I knew she was going to tell me she was leaving. I knew I was going to have to let her go. I knew it was going to kill me. I didn’t know she was seeing someone. He was the one who killed her. He was drunk. He killed them both that night. I was devastated. I never told her that I loved her. I just hoped she knew. I didn’t know that- that she had someone. I didn’t know until after she died. I knew she could never be mine, but like a fool, I dared to hope.”

  “Dallas…” Leena said brokenly. She stared at him and her sorrow cut him to the quick.

  “You still came around, even after Hannah was gone. I never could make you leave. You were always just there, in the background. You’d clean my house while I worked with Hannah. You’d do the dishes, pick up messes, do my laundry. It didn’t make sense and I just let it happen because then I could do what I really wanted to do. Concentrate on Hannah and on my work. As the years passed I guess I came to depend on you being there. I’d leave lists for you. You started doing my shopping. Taking my clothes out to be dry cleaned. You’d mail my packages, my music. You’d open my mail, sort out my bills. Pay them for me, do some of my banking when it could be done online. Slowly, without me even realizing it, you became a part of my life. You knew everything about me. I was sick once, so sick. I couldn’t leave the house. I refused. You were so worried you cried. You told me you were going to find a doctor to come to the house and you did. I was lucky. I had pneumonia. I was lucky you were stubborn. When other doctors offered me pills that would numb out the pain, numb out everything, you stood up for me. You said it would take away the music and you knew, as I did, that it would be a fate worse than death, no matter how many times I’d said I wished it would just go away. You knew I needed to write, to compose. You knew there was one last thing I needed to do.”

  “The play we’re doing now.”

  “Yes. I wanted to finish it. It was my plan to write it and… and just let myself give up.”

  “Except you couldn’t. You wrote it and you threw it in the garbage. I found it. The story of two lovers destined for pain and disaster. It was the story of your life. The story of you and Hannah. That’s when I first realized what Hannah meant to you. I didn’t even know that you loved her, and I was there all the time.”

  “You found me crumpled in a ball. I was weeping, and I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t stand what I’d written. It was the first time I’d cried since she died. I was weeping, weeping for the first time in my life. Not just for her, but for me.”

  “And what did I do?”

  “You put me to bed. Made me tea. Made me sleep. In the morning I woke up and you were gone. On the piano bench was my work. All the pages had been ironed out. Everything was there except the ending. You have no idea how shocked I was to see the writing, neat, tiny, so much different than my own, all the notes sprawling across the pages. Your notes. Your music. Your ending. You took the pain and you gave me back the only happiness you knew would ever truly get through to me.”

  “And I came back later, didn’t I?”

  “You did. I asked you to show me. I asked you to sing it. I played. You sang. I had no idea you could. You were beyond talented. You were flawless. I asked you were you’d learned.”

  “I learned it from you. All those years you thought you were teaching Hannah, but I was always there.”

  “Yes. You were always listening and learning.” Leena leaned forward, lips parted, but said nothing. He realized what he’d always been too blind to see. That not only was she a woman, but she was glorious. Her clothing was rumpled from sleep. The bruises were still fading, still marring her face, but she was gorgeous. Her hair spilled down her shoulders in glorious honeyed waves. The golden glow of the outside world trickled through the window and illuminated in her a golden bath. She looked a little like a modern statue, a beautiful enigma he’d finally opened his blind eyes to see.

  “You told me a few nights later about your dream of opening a theatre. You had it all worked out. We’d live there. I could write my music. You would be able to put on plays and be in a couple of it like you wanted to. We’d showcase other artists and new talent. You already had a building picked out. You were so young, but you had this dream. You wanted to give the world my art.” He realized, as he said it, that all Leena had ever wanted to do was make him happy. A stab of guilt ripped through him when he thought of the harsh words he’d said to her the day of her accident. She’d accused him of basically wishing she was the one to die instead of Hannah. He hadn’t meant that. God, he’d never even thought anything like it, but he had hurled other, ugly accusations at her.

  “And somewhere in there, we got married.” Leena frowned. “Minnie told me it was because I needed to, legally.”

  “Yes. It made everything easier. Access to my funds and accounts. You were managing the entire project. You made all the decisions. I was… well, I was doing what I was always doing. Writing. You left me free to do that.” She made it completely seamless. She’s always looked after me. She’s given me everything and I’ve done nothing to deserve her kindness. Why had he been so blind to how selfless Leena was, to just how much she’d done for him?

  “You must have trusted me.”

  “Yes. Implicitly.” It was true. He’d trusted her with his life. She was the one who had saved him when he was at his lowest point. “I wanted you to have the security of my name. You never talked about it, but I knew that you reached a breaking point with your family. I sensed that you had nowhere else to go. I knew you didn’t have much of a job. You were always helping me. I wanted to be fair. You’d sacrificed so much. There was no one who would care for me like you did. You looked at me like I wasn’t just some broken thing. You saw me as an actual person.”

  “And that was enough to make me your wife?”

  “Yes.” He wished she could understand. He didn’t like the frown knitting her brow. “I was the one who suggested it. The theatre was completed, and we moved in. You took it over as naturally as if you’d been doing it all your life. You had help. You hired the best. Six months later we put on our first show. It was a huge success. You’ve been doing it ever since.”

  Though she wasn’t even aware of it, the glow in Leena’s eyes when she looked at him showed how much she cared. She’d always looked at him like that. The things he’d told her, it was like he was telling himself for the first time as he became aware, slow
ly, of just how deeply ingrained in his life she was.

  Unbidden, the image of her helping him into the shower when he was at one of his most helpless times, when she so patiently shaved him, dressed him in fresh clothes, literally fed him since he couldn’t do it, ripped through his mind. He’d wept in her arms before. He’d spent countless hours with her writing music. His music. She’d never asked for any recognition for the parts she contributed. She sang for him. He was a demanding partner. Unfair. Surly. Dark. Brooding. Difficult. He was the worst kind of man and he knew it. He’d never had any illusions about his desirability, yet she’d never left. She’d never judged him. She’d never told him he was broken or beyond redemption. She’d once told him that if he feared his own mind, it would only enable his thoughts to spiral out of control. Fear only bred more fear.

  Of course, she didn’t remember any of it, yet she still looked at him the same way, with the unbearable tenderness in her emerald eyes.

  Why?

  “Thank you for being so honest with me,” Leena whispered after a long silence. “I’ll go and get us something to eat. Please, stay here. I don’t want to have to help you off the floor again. I want you to stay in bed. Don’t let me catch you at the piano again or I swear I’ll slam that damn lid on your fingers so that you can’t play.”

  He laughed softly, startling her. “You actually used to say that before. I know you’d never do it. It’s a graphic image. I’m surprised you’ve stuck with it over the years. It’s generally your go-to saying.”

  She flushed and looked away. “Anyway, I’ll be right back. Don’t even think about being fussy. You’re getting what you’re given since I can’t remember what you like.”

  She used to say that too. That he’d get what she made when she was exasperated with him. Once she’d said it about the music she wrote. He got what she wrote. He got what she sang. She wasn’t a magician. She couldn’t produce music and notes out of thin air. He didn’t tell her that. He let her go.