by Michele Hauf
I closed my eyes, expecting the blow, the unbearable pain. My cheekbone throbbed agonizingly. But instead of another hit, I heard a booming crash. The next moment, the door was practically torn into pieces and Blake burst into the room like an avenging angel. He took in the situation in a nanosecond, then he lunged at Danny, pulling him off me and hurling him against a table. It splintered under his weight, then Blake threw himself at Danny.
I curled on the bed, hugging the remains of my cardigan around me and yanking up my jeans. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t stop this fight. Blake had murder in his blazing eyes. In all honesty, seeing him pound his fists into Danny’s face, seeing the blood gush filled me with animalistic joy. I wanted Danny to die.
But the thought of the consequences Blake would face if he killed him forced me to my feet and out in the corridor to yell for help. I must have looked like a wild jungle woman, dashing into the party room and grabbing the first three men I saw. They stared at me puzzled as I dragged and begged them to follow me, gesticulating incoherently. I don’t know how I managed to bring them back to the room where Blake and Danny were, but as soon as the three strangers grasped the situation, they stepped in. It took all three of them to pull Blake off Danny and restrain him. His raw knuckles were dripping blood, and there was such fury on his face I knew it was going to give me nightmares. Danny was on the floor, not moving, his face unrecognizable.
“Jesus, please call an ambulance,” I cried out, gripping the arm of the man nearest to me.
I left him to dial the emergency number on his cell phone, then gathered up my courage and turned to Blake. When he saw me, he yanked himself from the other two men’s hands and rushed to take me into his arms.
“Kendra, has he hurt you? What happened?” He took my shoulders, staring wildly into my eyes. “Tell me what he’s done.”
We were both breathing hard, hanging on to one another, trembling uncontrollably. All at once, my legs wouldn’t support me anymore. I slid down to the floor, desperately hugging Blake, dragging him down with me. I shook my head, with my face buried in his chest.
“No, he hasn’t... You made it in time. Oh, God, Blake, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have come here,” I said, crying so violently my entire body was shaking.
“Why the hell did you? Where were you all day? I’ve been frantic, damn it! If Sandra hadn’t called to tell me you were here, I would have gone mad with worry.”
I lifted my eyes to his, imploring him to understand, to forgive me.
“She called you? Did she tell you why... why I ran away?”
He gazed at me for a long moment, before lifting a bloody hand to smooth my hair. “She did.”
I lowered my eyes in shame, but lifted them again when he went on, “I’m going to tell you what I told her. You’re an idiot to let yourself affected by a dickless asshole. How could you ever think that absurd article would change my opinion of you, or stop me from loving and wanting you?”
I gave a small shrug. “I... I didn’t know how to react. I was so humiliated...”
A group of men and women dashed into the room, curious to see what had happened. One of them was checking Danny’s pulse. I heard him say he was alive but would probably need reconstructive surgery on his face. The thought filled me with a savage satisfaction.
Blake’s eyes darted toward the motionless body, then back at me. “You’d better tell me what the hell happened here tonight. Start from when you fled the house this morning, and make sure you don’t omit anything.”
A long while later, in the wee hours of the morning, we were back at Blake’s house. I was cuddled up in bed, with Blake on one side, Duke on the other, and an ice pack over my cheek. Never in my life had I felt so exhausted, so rattled, so empty. I knew the trauma of Danny’s attempt to rape me was going to leave deep traces in my soul.
“Well, at least we’ll be making new headlines by tomorrow,” Blake said, stroking my forehead gently.
I took his bruised hand and kissed the swollen knuckles. “I’m so sorry, Blake. If it weren’t for my stupidity, none of this would have happened.”
“Don’t talk nonsense. Gonzales is a born sexual predator. He belongs in jail, although I wish you didn’t have to go through that to make sure he gets there.”
“His lawyer threatened to press charges against you. They don’t know yet how bad the damage to his face is.”
“Oh, please. It breaks my heart.”
Blake rose and began to pace the room. After the extensive police interrogation, we’d arrived home long after midnight. Blake insisted we take a long, hot bath, and now we were both wearing clean, thick robes.
“I found him trying to rape you. Do you really think any charges against me would stick?”
I lowered my eyes, dejectedly. “I hope not. But it doesn’t matter. Can’t you see, Blake? I’ve ruined your reputation. Before you met me, there was no trace of scandal around your name. Now you’re a tabloid star.”
Despite my resolve not to cry, bitter tears filled my eyes. Blake looked exasperated for a moment, but then he walked toward the bed. He sat beside me, taking my hand in his.
“Right. You’re the black sheep, the bad juju in my life. Is that what you think?”
“Sort of,” I replied softly. My lips were cracked and swollen from Danny’s vile kisses. “I... just don’t think I’m good for you, Blake. I’m not good for anyone.”
He raked a hand through his hair, staring at me with a puzzled expression, as he slowly shook his head.
“How in God’s name can you say that, when you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me? You’re the first and only woman I’ve ever loved, Kendra. Do you think that’s bad? Do you think the fact that you make me happier than I’ve ever been is bad?”
I opened my mouth to answer, but he cut me off.
“And you say you’ve ruined my reputation. Christ, that’s hilarious! People will gossip and lie no matter what. Will you let these vicious snakes destroy what we have, the miracle of us? If so, you’re not the woman I thought you were.”
I gazed intently into his eyes, trying to see into his soul, and make him look inside mine.
“No. I don’t want to lose you, Blake.”
He linked his fingers with mine and brought our joint hands to his lips.
“Then don’t.”
Epilogue
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” I said, leaning over to give Blake a deep, lingering kiss.
“The happiest ever,” he agreed, smiling idly as we clinked the champagne glasses.
We sat and sipped for a few contented moments, enjoying the feeling of absolute happiness. Judging by his snores, Duke shared our thoughts. He was sprawled next to us on the large sofa in my living room, which was lit only by firelight and the TV screen. The stone-paved fireplace was a hasty but inspired addition—one of Blake’s many Christmas presents. He’d heard me say once that I’d like to have a fireplace, and that very evening he showed up at my door, accompanied by the entire team from Masonry Fireplaces.
They had done an astonishing job. The stone was brown and beige, with subtle black veins here and there, which gave it an antique, classy look, accentuated by the glossy, deep oak mantelpiece.
“Do you think we should find a better spot for them?” I asked Blake, nodding toward the two majestic gold statues that stood there.
“Hmmm... Maybe we will, one day.”
I settled myself more comfortably against his chest, feeling warm and cozy.
“I still can’t believe it, you know,” I said dreamily, contemplating the two Oscars. “I was sure you’d win the one for the Best Actor in a Leading Role. I mean, you were fantastic! But I never dreamed I would get an award for Best Writing. It’s still surreal.”
His mouth curved into a smile and he drew me closer to him, tugging the thick blanket around us.
“You deserve it, Kendra. Without you, The Diary wouldn’t have existed. As soon as I read the script I knew it was going to make histor
y.”
It had. My movie—I selfishly thought of it this way—had the biggest box office earnings of the last decade. The premiere had been well promoted, but not even Mark or Marie had expected it to be such a success. Personally, I thought it was only partially due to the story itself, but most of all, it was the masterful skills of Blake and Sandra. Their professional chemistry and acting had transcended beyond the screens, and into the viewer’s minds, just like the gothic scenery Mark had created. All in all, it was a work of art.
“And so it has,” I replied slowly, my eyes glued to the TV screen.
We were watching the Oscar ceremony my dad had recorded for us, when it was transmitted live from the Dolby Theater. My skin tingled every time I remembered that night, the excitement, the nerves, the feeling I was Queen of the World when I stepped out onto that red carpet holding Blake’s arm.
It had been the most magical night in my life, and it showed on my face as I smiled into the cameras, toward the myriad lights. Now I knew how Cinderella felt. I knew why Hollywood held such power, and why so many artists were willing to make supreme sacrifices to stand just once in that spotlight, to be the center of attention in the entire world.
“I can’t believe I didn’t cry,” I said, doing so now as I stared at myself on the screen. I was simply glowing in a long, red dress as I accepted my award with calm and dignity. “I wanted to jump, squeal, scream!”
Blake laughed. “I know. I was so proud of you. You conducted yourself like a pro, like the true lady that you are,” he said, laying a soft kiss on my palm.
“Thank you. But you were even more magnificent. When they announced you as the winner, I thought my heart would burst with pride. You were amazing up there, so sexy and charming... When you looked at me and said I was the one who made this possible, then I did cry.”
“I know. All the cameras were on you. Your tears sparkled like diamonds on that huge screen.”
“God, are we turning into a couple of narcissists?” I asked giggling, lifting myself on one elbow to watch him.
“I think we’re entitled to, just for a few days more.” His grin was unrepentant. “Now that we’ve finished singing praises to one another, I’m hungry. Where are our parents? Are they having a romantic Valentine’s Day dinner or something? It’s almost ten,” he said, frowning at his watch.
“No. Our moms went shopping, and our dads said they were going bowling. They all said they’d rather celebrate tomorrow, when they go back to their homes. Between you and me, I’m pretty sure our dads hit the strip joints.”
We burst out laughing again, with the hilarity of stoned teenagers. Blake was the first one to recover. “Well, then, we’d better order something. Or would you rather go out?”
“Are you kidding? And leave this comfy nest? No way!”
He gazed at me thoughtfully for a moment. Then, without a word, he reached down and pulled me to my feet.
“Hey, what are you doing?” I grabbed the slipping blanket, ignoring Duke, who was growling lazily in his sleep. “Where are we going?”
“Just out on the porch. I want to show you something. Take your blanket.”
Puzzled, I followed him through the dimly-lit house, out to the front porch. He opened the door, then ushered me outside. When I looked at him intrigued, I saw his teeth gleaming white. The mischievous sparkle in his gray eyes made me wonder what was going on, and then I saw his gaze move beyond me. As I turned to see what he was looking at, my jaw nearly dropped.
There, far against the dark sky, a message was erupting in a zillion lights that connected to one another in a single sentence: MARRY ME, KENDRA!
“Oh, my God!”
I don’t know if the whispered words referred to the gorgeous skywriting, or to the proposal itself. I just stood there, gaping, until Blake interrupted my trance by taking my hand.
“I think you should say something now.”
Despite the light joke, I could hear the nervousness in his voice. I turned to him, my lips slightly parted. I shook my head wordlessly for another few moments, until I noticed the expression on his face became increasingly agonizing.
“Um... I... I don’t know what to say, Blake. God, this is...” I stammered incoherently, desperately trying to get a grip on myself. Finally, I took a deep breath.
“We’ve never talked about marriage before. Are you... sure you want to marry me?”
His smile was tinged with relief. “Pretty much, yeah. Besides, the press has married us already, at least a half dozen times. We’re the golden couple in Hollywood, remember? Soon, they will be calling us Blakendra, or something equally atrocious.”
I choked out a nervous laugh, then looked up at him again. “Where would we live? I worked so hard on this house. I really don’t want to move, even though it will be too small for us.”
“It’s perfect, and I love it. I already live here with you, most of the time. I just thought I’d make an honest woman out of you.” He grinned again, sliding his hands around my waist. “So, what do you say?”
I glanced at the fading skywriting one more time, then back at Blake. I thought the smile was going to split my face.
“Yes! Yes, I will marry you. I love you so...”
The rest of my declaration was lost in kisses, as Blake lifted me off the ground and covered my mouth with his. We kissed for a long while, unmindful of the cold, until the smoky letters faded away, leaving the sky to the stars once more.
“You know, I can’t believe this was the first problem that came to your mind,” Blake said after a while.
“What problem?”
“Where we were going to live.”
I shrugged, trying to choose my words carefully. “It wasn’t a problem. I would go to the end of the world for you. I hope you know that. It’s just that... I put a lot of heart and work in this house. I bought it with the money I earned myself. It means a lot to me. Besides, there’s one more mystery about this house that’s nagging me, and I didn’t have time to pursue my plan of getting Vicky—the realtor—drunk, so she can tell me who it belonged to. She said it was some celebrity.”
“Oh, you don’t know who owned this house?”
My eyes widened at his disbelieving tone. I turned to face him, incredulous.
“You do? Who? Who was it?”
His lips curved slowly, and a sly look appeared in his eyes. “What will you offer me in exchange for that highly confidential information?”
I punched him lightly in the stomach, half amused, half annoyed. “Come on, tell me.”
He pretended to consider the question for a moment, then said, “Let’s just say the former owner was possibly the most famous blonde in the world.”
I didn’t think my eyes could become rounder and larger, but they did. “Who? Marilyn Monroe?”
“I’m not saying any more until we discuss the payment terms.” Before I could press him for more details, he went on, “In fact, since we are talking about this house, I do have a condition of my own. I mean, if I am to marry you and live here, I’m practically half owner.”
I raised one eyebrow, pursing my lips. “What would that condition be?”
He looked me straight in the eye, his face as serious as it could possibly be, then said, “The purple Johns have to go.”
Afterword
Thank you so much for reading All That Glitters. We’re very proud of the book chosen to be a part of this s box set.
My book, Celebrity, is the first novel in my Bookish & Sexy Collection, and like all the stories in this series it was fun and rewarding to write. If you enjoyed it, please take a few minutes and leave an honest review for the collection on Amazon. Authors enjoy hearing that readers like their stories, and hopefully, others will read your words and choose to buy the set because of your sentiments.
My website at https://melindadeross.com/ has all my books listed with links to the various publishers where you might find my other work. While you’re there, I’d really appreciate it if you would subscribe
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Hugs,
Melinda
Also by Melinda De Ross
International Affairs: LONDON
Unabridged
Sacked!
Boyfriend Wanted for Christmas
The Plot
The Diary
Christmas Shorts
About the Author
Melinda De Ross is a USA Today bestselling author of multi-genre fiction novels. A prolific writer, she weaves humorous romance and tension-filled thrillers with the same enthusiasm. Her books combine the elegance of European literature with the modern appeal of American culture. While she's a law graduate and professional target shooter, she prefers to spend her days spinning tales for her readers. In her downtime, she'd rather read or watch a classic movie than go to a noisy club. She loves to hear from readers, so if you have a question or want to learn more about her books, visit her website: MelindaDeRoss.com
Just for the Weekend by Susanne Matthews
Book Description
School’s out and it’s time to play with the grown-ups.
Kindergarten teacher Cleo James is in a rut and needs a change. For the last three years, she’s been at her widowed dad's beck and call, but enough is enough. When her best friend suggests a weekend in Vegas at a sci-fi convention, she sets aside some of her inhibitions, and agrees to visit Sin City. After all, it's just for the weekend. What could possibly go wrong?