Broken Angels (40 page)

Warning: This title contains violence, sex, emotional intensity that may cause your mascara to run, and a dark, sexy hero who’ll make you want to believe in Santa all over again.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Where Dreams Are Made:

“It looks like a painting.” Jenny gazed at the lighthouse perched on a shelf of ultramarine blue and burnt umber rocks, as they circled San Juan heading for the harbor.

“That’s Lime Kiln Lighthouse.”

Kelp and driftwood floated at the foot of the bluff, framing the shoreline. The cool salt water breeze kissed her face, left a salty taste on her lips. “It’s so beautiful, and so lonely.” The tall, solitary structure, set against gray mountains and encompassed by blue sky and water, reminded her of Daniel—solid, quiet, admired from a distance. How sad that something so enthralling should be so isolated.

“We’ll reach Friday Harbor soon.” Daniel steered the boat, his back turned to her, his expression vacant.

She was happy he’d let her come with him, even if he
had
only invited her because he’d felt sorry for her. What an enigma he was. Yesterday when they’d danced she’d sensed a connection between them. There was nothing indifferent about the way he’d held her, the way his fingers had stroked her back, the way his hand had clasped hers. But today miles separated them. She might as well have been alone on this boat.

She absorbed the sight of him. His features seemed chiseled in stone. She longed for the gentleness of the man who’d comforted her late at night when the nightmares had risen to ensnare her, the man who’d helped her decorate a Christmas tree and who’d held her in his arms so tight she hadn’t known where her heartbeat ended and his began.

“Do you come here often?” she asked above the deafening whoosh of the waves.

“Once a week,” he replied.

A gust of wind whipped his hair, raising it from his face. Briefly, she caught a glimpse of the scars he went to great lengths to conceal. White grooves dug into his flesh, crisscrossing his cheek. Her fingers itched to trace them, to heal them with the loving care of a tender touch. But she couldn’t. Daniel didn’t want her looking at him, let alone touching him.

As they rounded the island they drew nearer to Friday Harbor, where a line of fishing boats and pleasure yachts floated patiently. Seagulls screeched overhead, flapping their wings as they spiraled above the bustling port. A brilliant procession of boats, decorated in shimmering Christmas lights chugged around the harbor. Jenny leaned over the bow, impressed by the sight.

Her face must have reflected her enchantment, for Daniel said, “It’s the annual Parade of Lights.”

The whole town—what she could see of it—twinkled with a rainbow of Christmas lights. “It must look incredible at night.” She felt as if she’d stepped into one of those gleaming villages people placed under their Christmas trees.

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen it.”

They finally managed to dock. Daniel secured his boat, and Jenny followed him to an old red brick building facing the waterfront. A short, plump man with round glasses and prominent cheeks came to greet them.

“Daniel, I was starting to worry. You’re late.” The man slapped him amicably on the arm. “In the four years we’ve worked together you’ve been like clockwork. I can usually time your arrival to the minute.”

“Sorry, Saul. We got stalled by the parade.”

“Ah, they hit the water earlier in the day this year.” Saul’s gaze settled on Jenny. Surprise spread across his round face. “You two came together?”

Daniel’s stoical expression faltered. “This is Jenny, my assistant.”

“Is that what they’re calling ’em these days?” Saul cackled at his own remark, winking at Daniel.

Heat suffused Jenny’s cheeks, perspiration pearling in her joints. This Saul had taken one look at her and known what she was. Not an assistant, but a hired companion.

He can’t know,
she reassured herself. Only she and Sam Leland were aware of their deal. Guilt sank like a bucket of rocks to settle at the pit of her stomach.

“The shipment’s in my boat. Can you send a couple of guys to help me unload?”

Thank God Daniel had steered the conversation away from her. Even though the pragmatic side of her brain told her she was overreacting, her crushing conscience made her foolishly paranoid.

“Sure, I’ll send them right out.” Saul smiled at Jenny. “You come back again soon.”

“That’s up to Daniel.” Stealing a glimpse of him, she noted the firm clasp of his hands, the darkness cloaking his eyes. He had no intention of bringing her back, unless it was to escort her to the ferry that would carry her out of his life.

Jenny had never much believed in prophecies, but that moment she had a vision. She saw herself standing on the deck of an open ferry, staring at the fading silhouette of a dark-haired man, feeling her heart break with each new wave that crashed against the hull as she floated further and further away. Floated back to Prospect Valley, to Leo, to self-effacement. If she went back there, the glitter inside her that made her the person she was would dim and die. She’d become a robot wearing human flesh, a programmed machine, with all emotion banned from her life.

Perhaps she would have been able to live that way before, but not now. Not after tasting peace, security. Not after savoring the warmth of Daniel’s kindness. She’d never thought a man’s presence could be so comforting. Before Daniel, Jenny had believed men inspired only fear, submission. But Daniel made her feel protected, cared for. He gave her hope, and she hadn’t had that in a very long time.

As they stepped outside, she eyed the numerous restaurants and cafés dotting the waterfront, all outfitted with glimmering lights. Although the small town wasn’t crowded, the sight of bikers and pedestrians filling the quaint streets was a welcome change from Daniel’s secluded cottage. “Can we stay and walk around town?”

“No.” Daniel’s reply was curt and dry, almost frantic. He seemed out of his element here amidst society—tense, uneasy. “We have a deadline to meet.”

Jenny understood. She caught the real reason in the way he averted his eyes. He wore the unworthiness he felt the same way he wore his scars. As much as he tried to conceal it, it was a part of him and it refused to stay hidden.

In a few minutes they’d boarded his boat and pulled away from the dock, Daniel skillfully bypassing the parade. Jenny leaned back against the railing, watching him. He seemed anxious to get away, eager to drift on to the wide, flowing ocean.

“Why are you staring at me?” He hadn’t as much as slanted a glance her way and yet he’d sensed her gaze.

“Just wondering why you feel so uncomfortable around people.”

He looked at her then, taken aback. “I don’t. I told you we have work to do.”

She approached him, placing her hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to pretend with me. I understand how you feel. I just don’t understand why.”

He stared at the rippling water, his expression unreadable. “Please don’t touch me.” His voice was gruff, strained.

“Why not? Don’t you like being touched?” Boldly, she ran the back of her index finger across his right cheek. He jerked away as if she’d grazed him with a burning flame.

Compassion squeezed her heart. “What happened to you, Daniel?”

A light drizzle began to fall, but the sun continued to shine. Up ahead on the distant horizon a rainbow glowed. She’d never seen anything so magnificent—a prism of sparkling color diving into the boiling waves.

“Maybe you should go below deck.”

She shook her head. “No, I don’t mind the rain. I don’t get to see a view like this everyday. Isn’t it incredible? How two total opposites can form something so breathtaking?”

Daniel didn’t reply. He just continued staring blankly ahead. Moving to his left, she did something terribly brazen. She touched the hair that veiled his cheek, brushing it aside. In an instant his fingers clenched hers. “What the hell are you doing?” Panic flared in his voice.

“I just—I wanted to see your face.”

Realizing how tightly he clasped her hand, he loosened his grip, releasing her. “Don’t ever do that again.” His clipped, non-negotiable tone delivered the message loud and clear.

In the past, Jenny would have backed off, retreated into silence, but not now. “Why not? What are you so afraid of?” she asked. Then, unable to stop herself, she added, “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met.”

Her words touched him; she could tell. His taciturn expression vanished, and for a brief instant before doubt set in, she sensed he almost believed her. “Beautiful? Have you looked at me?”

“More than you know.”

Something blazed in his eyes that made her gut clench and heat stir in her belly. To her delighted surprise, he raised his hand, tenderly cupping her face.

He was going to kiss her.

The ground beneath her feet moved at the thought. Or maybe it was just the boat hopping along the waves, but right now she didn’t want to think about that. She just wanted to think about the way his thumb trailed up her cheek to settle at the corner of her mouth, stroking it. Something deep and primitive told her Daniel’s kiss would be as magical as everything else about him. She closed her eyes, leaned into his wide, rough palm…

Sometimes what you’re looking for is closer than you think.

Because of You

© 2009 Mari Carr

Jessie’s life is a mess. In the eight hellish months since her husband died in a freak accident, she’s been mugged, her house has been trashed, and now she’s receiving frightening prank calls. She resists a friend’s offer of a weekend getaway—her grief is still too fresh to consider meeting anyone new.

Then again, since it’s a party for gay men, there won’t be any pressure, right?

ER doctor Caleb James feels perfectly at ease among his gay brother’s friends, but one look at Jessie sparks a sexual tension that’s impossible to ignore. A few drinks and a few hours of conversation later, things move a lot faster than either of them expect. Jessie is left confused and Caleb aches with regret—and love for a woman who is still guarding her heart.

Pressure is the last thing she needs. But as it becomes apparent that her string of misfortunes traces back to her husband’s death, help is what she’s going to get. Caleb’s help…ready or not.

Warning: This title contains two adults playing doctor. But that’s okay, one of them is licensed to practice. A prescription for extra-strength Kleenex may be required.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Because of You:

“Husband?” he asked and she saw his eyes dart to her ring finger. She’d given up wearing her diamond engagement ring, but she couldn’t seem to part from the actual white gold wedding band.

She sucked in a breath at his question. She’d carefully avoided talking about Tommy all night. She’d wanted a night to forget, a night to pretend that her life was normal and happy and that she hadn’t had her heart ripped out of her chest eight months earlier.

“I’m a widow,” she said and the sound of that simple word released the flow of ice cold water throughout her body once again. For a few hours, she’d been warm. Hell, between Caleb and the alcohol, she spent more than a few moments on fire and it had felt so damn good.

“I’m sorry,” he said, rising and crossing the room to take her icy hands in his. She didn’t realize until his touch that she was shaking. In just one evening, he’d diminished the shadow of fear that constantly hovered over her. He’d rejuvenated her, made her feel alive.

She shook her head, desperately willing away the chill, the sadness. Dammit, she didn’t want to be cold anymore. She was tired of being afraid. “It’s been eight months and I’m afraid I sometimes tend to talk about Tommy in the present tense, like he’s still here.”

“Had he been ill?” he asked and she smiled sadly. He sounded very much like a doctor.

“Freak accident. He slipped on a patch of ice and hit his head on a car door. It was late and brutally cold and he was the last person leaving work that night. It was several hours before I found him and by then—”

“You found him?” he asked, pulling her gently to a chair in the kitchen. He pushed her down before sitting next to her. He never released his grip on her hands and she knew he felt the coldness in them as he began to rub them with his own as if to warm them.

“I was concerned when he didn’t come home and didn’t answer his cell. He was an accountant and it was audit season, so he worked late occasionally, but it wasn’t like him not to call and check in. Finally, I worried myself into a frenzy and decided to drive by his office, fully prepared to give him holy hell for scaring me so.”

He nodded. “I’m sorry it was you who found him.”

She shrugged and closed her eyes. She was a master at controlling her tears, yet here with Caleb it seemed harder to do. She’d managed to push her pain deep inside her and she even found it easier of late to discuss Tommy’s death. Tonight, whether it was the alcohol or her tiredness or Caleb’s compassion, the emotions were threatening to bubble over and she refused to let that happen.

“Well, I suppose I managed to bring tonight’s fun level down. That’s me—the official ruination of all parties,” she tried to joke. She pulled her hands out of his comforting grip and went back to the counter. “Do you like cream and sugar in your coffee?”

“No, I drink it black, and, Jessie, you didn’t ruin anything. You’re going through a damn hard time right now, dealing with something no one should ever have to deal with. Don’t be so hard on yourself. I wish I could give you an easy fix, but I’m afraid nothing except time will cure this.”

She grinned over her shoulder, determined to return to the easy banter they’d enjoyed all night. “That’s quite a bedside manner you have, Dr. Caleb.” The flirtatious line felt rusty and foreign as it fell from her lips, but Caleb didn’t seem to notice.

He gave a short, brief laugh. “Oh yeah, I’m a master at bedside—” He paused mid-sentence and she was surprised when he walked over to her and placed his hands on her cheeks. “Christ, Jess. I want to kiss you so badly it hurts.”

“So kiss me,” she whispered, uncertain where the words had come from, his and hers. From the second he touched her face, she wanted him with a passion she’d thought long gone.