Always You (A Magnolia Falls Novel) (16 page)

Sure that what Liz was saying was true Diana turned to Jillian. “Where is Zack now?”

“Fishing at the falls.”

Diana stood. “Can you stay and watch out for Jessica until one of us gets back?”

Jillian and Mandy sat back, each with a cupcake in hand. “Go. We are just fine here.”

Liz and Diana stood on the front porch. “Here goes nothing,” Liz said. “Let’s go get our men.” She gave Diana a hug and went back into the house climbing the stairs to the wing where Logan was staying. Diana watched her go, then took a deep breath and got in the car.

She was going to get her man.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Diana arrived at the falls and got out of her car. She started walking towards the fishing dock and halted when she caught sight of Zack sitting on the edge, a fishing pole at his side. He just sat there staring out across the water, and she ached, knowing she was the cause of his pain. She began her trek to him. He looked up at the sound of her footsteps crunching the leaves on the ground. He didn’t move, just watched her come to him. It didn’t look as if he were going to make this easy for her.

When she reached him, he did not stand, nor did he look at her. He turned his head to resume his perusal of the water. “Can I sit?” She asked.

“Go right ahead.”

She sat down, the fishing pole between them. She rubbed her palms on her jeans. “Have you caught anything?”

He shook his head. “They aren’t biting tonight. I think it’s too cold.”

“It is a bit chilly.” She rubbed her arms. She had been so eager to get to him she forgot to grab a sweater. Always the gentleman, he took off his jacket and laid it across her shoulders. “Thanks.” She smiled at him and pulled the jacket tighter around her. She inhaled and his scent gave her the strength to press on. “Zack.” She waited for him to look at her. When he didn’t she tried again. “I’ve been thinking of taking a trip.”

“Oh yeah? With your sisters?” If only he would look at her, she could see how he felt. She could always see his feelings in his eyes.

“No.” When he didn’t ask with who or where she tried again. “The place I want to go isn’t really a sister trip. You see, I want to go to paradise, and since you did promise to take me there I was hoping—” She reached out and placed her palm on his cheek, turning his face to look at her. “You would still want to go. With me.”

He covered her hand with his where it lay on his face and held her attention. “Is that what you really want?”

She nodded. Tears filling her eyes.

“Are you certain?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Be absolutely sure, because I won’t ever walk away from you again. No matter how badly you want me to.”

“Good. I couldn’t survive losing you again.”

He stood, pulling her up with him. Taking her face in his hands he said, “Let’s go to paradise, kitten.”

THE END

Thank you for reading Always You. I would be ever so grateful if you would leave a review.

Lookout for Liz and Logan’s story coming soon!

I hope you enjoy this excerpt from Ruth Roberts novella

To Love and Protect

Lorelei loosened her grip on the weapon in her hands. She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly as she pulled the trigger with her finger.

Her body relaxed as she swung from target to target, never missing one. The loud beep indicated she was finished with this drill. Setting the safety, she holstered her weapon, removed her ear protection, and picked up her duffle bag on her way out of the firing range.

The moment she stepped into the hallway her boss, Ben Stevens, stood from the hard green plastic chair in a row of chairs lining the government hallway. “Agent Davis. You had excellent timing. You hit your target every time. Very impressive.” His compliment worried her
.
As the head of the Secret Service he didn't give compliments, only counsel.

“Thank you, sir.” She waited for him to tell her why he was there
.
Perhaps
it wasn't her he was waiting for. There were, after all, other agents in the range. His next words demolished that theory.

“It's been thirty days since you completed your training. Since then I've heard nothing but good from the drills you've participated in. Do you think you're ready for your first assignment?”

“Absolutely, sir.”

“Meet me in the Oval Office, one hour."

The President’s office? “Yes, sir.” He nodded and strode away.

Why would the President want to speak with her? Could it be possible she was going to be assigned to Molly?
Since the day she was hired as a Secret Service agent she had dreamed about being a part of the first daughter’s detail. A slow smile crept across Lorelei's lips. What a career boost it would be for her first assignment to be the first family. With a spring in her step she went to lock up her weapon.

***

Lorelei arrived right on time for her meeting with the President. As she walked toward the double doors to his office she took a deep calming breath to still the excitement thrumming through her veins.

Her knock was quickly answered by Ben Stevens.

“Agent Davis, come in. Take a seat.”

She followed him to the sofa and sat down. She quickly glanced around the office, something she did every time she entered a room. Occupational hazard. She met the President’s eyes briefly, acknowledging him. She had to admit to herself she felt slightly out of her league sitting there.

She was wearing a black pantsuit with a blue silk blouse, and was suddenly glad she had decided on the black high heels instead of the comfortable flat shoes she usually wore.

“Agent Davis. Thank you for coming on such short notice,” said the President as he sat on the sofa across from her. “Have you ever done undercover work?”

“Some, when I was with the NYPD, but not a whole lot, and it was not deep cover.” She crossed her legs with her hands remaining folded in her lap while she resisted the urge to fidget.

“Threats are made against my family on a daily basis. Every one of them is thoroughly assessed to determine its credibility. Thankfully, most are dismissed...until now.”

He handed her a file. She accepted it and began skimming through its contents, stopping at a page describing the task force being assembled to investigate. She saw her brother’s name among the candidates. It was a counter-terrorism unit to investigate any threats made against high ranking government officials and their families. The current threat fell into that category. Current intel indicated it came from a Russian group which had ties to an oil corporation. The president would soon be signing or vetoing a bill that concerned oil.

Could this threat be a way to influence the presidents decision?

“I agree, the threat against the First Son should not be ignored.” She set the file down.

“My son has refused a Secret Service detail. I want you to protect him.” He didn’t beat around the bush.

“How exactly would you propose I do that if he has refused a detail?”

President Hayward looked at Mr. Stevens.

“Ben, you want to take over?”

“Certainly, Mr. President.” He turned toward her and continued. “The townhouse next door to the First Son is vacant while undergoing renovations. We would like you to move in as the new owner. Befriend him, spend as much time as possible with him. If there is an attempt made on him you will be close at hand to prevent it.”

What did he mean by spend as much time with him as possible?
Being a Secret Service agent wasn’t a day job. She got that. But just what were they asking of her?

“Who owns the house I will be moving into?” she asked.

“I do,” the President said. “A fact my son is unaware of, and I would prefer to keep it that way.”

She nodded. She had questions, but she was excited to be given such an assignment.

“How far do you want me to go to keep your son safe?”

“You are the professional, Agent Davis, I won’t tell you how to do your job. I trust you will do what is necessary to protect him until we can resolve this threat,” said the President.

She leveled her gaze on the President, made sure he was fully listening to her next question. “What if I have to break his heart?”

“As long as it is still beating it will mend,” the President replied.

She sat back and looked from the President to Mr. Stevens. She had just been given free rein to run this operation as she saw fit. “I see. When do I begin?”

***

Daxon looked up from his drawing at the sound of yet another moving truck arriving at the townhouse next door. After two months of renovations, he was glad the hammers and drills had stopped. It had been hard to get any work done with all the noise, and he had a deadline. A successful architect wouldn’t remain successful for long if he couldn’t deliver the plans on time for construction to begin.

A woman’s voice broke into his concentration. He stopped drawing and set his pencil down. He got up from his drawing table and stretched. He’d been sitting for several hours in the same position. The woman’s voice was escalating. He went to the window.

A tall woman, with dark hair falling in curls down her back, wearing jeans and a black t-shirt that hugged curves he couldn’t help but notice, stood toe to toe with a big, burly truck driver.

The burly man raised his hand and pointed a finger in the lady’s face, yelling.

Stupid man, hadn't his mother taught him how to treat women?
Apparently not.

Daxon grabbed a cap on his way out the door.

“This is not my stuff. Do I really look like the kind of person who would own a monkey lamp?” She held the offending object in her hand as far away from her face as possible, and shoved it closer to the man.

Not many women of Daxon’s acquaintance would stand up to a man that size.
His new neighbor had moxie.

“Listen, lady, my directions are to bring the truck here and unload it so that’s what I’m gonna do.” Mr. Burly’s face was getting redder as Daxon neared the scene. Neither combatant had noticed him yet.

“No you aren’t. If all this,” she gestured sharply toward the truck, “belongs to someone else then where are my things? You need to find out.”

“Not my job,” Burly drawled. His assistants were leaning against the truck, watching Daxon as he approached.

“What seems to be the problem?” His new neighbor and the burly man both turned to look at him. The first thing he noticed were her stunning blue eyes. They nearly stopped him in his tracks. Seeing burly man reach for her arm propelled him forward. “Don’t lay a finger on her,” Daxon warned.

The man glared at him, but lowered his hand and took a step back. “This ain’t none of your business, buddy.”

“When you began yelling at a lady outside my window I made it my business.” He dismissed the man by turning his attention to the woman. “Can I be of assistance?”

“This moving company I hired lost my things, and now they’re trying to foist this off on me.” She raised the monkey lamp in the air.

“May I see your clipboard?” he asked Mr. Burly.

“No can do. Client confidentiality.”

She threw her hands up, the monkey lamp barely missing Burly. “Now he decides to be ethical.”

The look on Burly’s face as he dodged a banana almost made Daxon laugh. Instead he reached for the lamp, removing the weapon from her hand. “I’m sure you have a dispatcher or supervisor you can call. If you can fix this before the truck carrying the lady’s belongings reaches its incorrect destination you can prevent having two unhappy customers.”

“Alright. But its gonna take some time to track down,” he mumbled as he walked to the front of the truck.

“Stupid man,” she said, crossing her arms. Daxon walked to the back of the truck and put the lamp back in.

“You sure you don’t want to keep this stuff? That bright orange sofa looks comfortable,” he teased.

“It looks like a paint store exploded in here. I’ve never seen so much yellow, orange, purple, and green together in one place.”

“Someone’s house will be brightened up.”

“As long as it isn’t mine. I’m Lorelei Davis, by the way.” She extended her hand.

Daxon took her hand in his. It felt soft as silk.

“Daxon Hayward.”

“I know. I recognized you. Even if you hadn’t appeared in several photos and on TV with your family I would have known you are President Hayward’s son. The family resemblance is uncanny.”

“So I’ve been told,” Daxon replied grimly.

Burly came back. “Found the truck with your stuff. It’ll be here in an hour.”

“Thank you,” she said sarcastically as he walked away. “Chauvinist pig.” Daxon laughed as the truck pulled away and left. “He couldn’t have done that when I asked?”

“It could have something to do with that uncanny family resemblance,” Daxon said. “On the bright side, you won’t have to look at the monkey lamp every day. That thing was creepy. It would give anyone nightmares.” He shuddered, and she laughed a deep, melodious laugh exposing her captivating smile.

“Yes, it was, but did you see the look on his face when I almost hit him with it?”

“It was priceless.”

They smiled at each other, sharing a moment of triumph. Daxon had noticed several things about her in the last few minutes. She was tough. Yet, the way she laughed showed there was also a softness simmering on the surface. Since he had refused a team of agents when his father was elected President he had learned how to read people, oftentimes his life depended on his ability to do so.

This girl was a mystery so far, which meant he would have to spend more time with her. Almost as if reading his mind she said, “I’d invite you in but it’s full of boxes, I wouldn’t want to risk taking out the First Son by having you trip and fall over them.”

Daxon groaned. “Please don’t call me that. Dax will do just fine.”

She smiled, and an unexpected jolt of desire surprised him. He normally didn't react this way to pretty strangers. Although, strikingly beautiful would be a more apt description.

“Very well, Dax it is. I’d better go inside and start moving boxes. The imbeciles who delivered the last load didn’t even put them in the right rooms, even though they are labeled.”

“I can help, if you don’t mind the company. I can assure you I haven’t fallen down or tripped over anything since I was ten.”

“That would be great. My arms are pretty sore already. Moving is tough.”

He followed her up the steps and into her house. It was laid out exactly like his, but reversed. Their living rooms and kitchens shared a common wall, while the study and bathroom were opposite. The bedrooms were all upstairs. He already knew the balcony outside her master bedroom was very close to his own.

The renovations were amazing. He had been itching to get in here and look at what was being done. It had been worth the wait to see it completed. The banister was beautiful. It was handmade and reminded him of the old Victorian banisters that contained secret compartments. Daxon firmly believed a banister gave a home a sense of character. Her choice impressed him.

“The boxes are all marked. These three stacks go upstairs. The bedroom doors are marked as well.”

She lifted a box and went up the stairs. He picked one up and followed. He quickly found the room labeled one and took his box in, setting it down. This room contained what looked to be martial art dummies, weights, and a treadmill.

For the next half hour they would smile and exchange a few words when they passed each other, arms laden with boxes. He had just finished delivering the last box to the master bedroom and was on his way down the stairs when the doorbell rang.