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MILLS & BOON
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To the light of my life,
My son
Contents
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Acknowledgments
First, to the creator of all, my Father, my Savior, my Comforter…thank you.
Second, to my editor, Demetria Lucas. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to work on this project, and be a part of this terrific series.
Finally, to the wonderful authors who worked with me on this project, Brenda Jackson, Jacquelin Thomas and Gwynne Forster. Thank you, ladies, for your help in understanding how the pieces fit together, and for your willingness to share what you know.
Chapter 1
“I’m not really sure what you expect me to do, Luther. I mean…how old is this girl?” Paul Gutierrez spoke into the wireless headset even while continuing to type away on the laptop braced against the steering wheel, and monitoring the activity of those leaving the back entrance of the posh L.A. nightclub across the street.
“Twenty-one.” His friend, and former Navy SEAL commander, Luther Biggens, practically groaned on the other end of the phone line, already sensing defeat.
“Twenty-one? She’s a legal adult. If she wants to be with this basketball player there is nothing you can do about it.”
“Try explaining that to her sisters.”
“Listen, man, I really wish I could help you—” Paul suddenly snapped to attention when the person he’d been looking for peeked his head around the door.
Paul sat completely still while he watched a member of his personal protection team, Barnett Roberts, look up and down the alleyway before stepping out.
Like most of the members of his personal security force Barney was a large, muscular man. His smoothly shaven head and creamy chocolate skin made his age indeterminable at a glance. He was a former Army Special Forces soldier, and had been with G-Force Security for almost two years, which was why Paul had resisted believing the signs that led him to the most obvious conclusion.
Luther continued to plead his case. “All I’m asking is that you check out the situation. This guy is no good. If anything happens to this girl…”
“I understand.” Paul watched the scene unfolding across the street with narrowed eyes. Barney was now signaling to someone at the other end of the alley. “Tell you what, I’ll find her and make sure she’s okay. Beyond that, there’s not a lot I can do if she doesn’t want to leave.”
“Thanks, man. I really appreciate this.”
“No thanks necessary. We’re brothers.” Paul spoke of the emotional bond between men-in-arms, not the genetic one, but he knew Luther would understand. There was a time he would’ve thought Barney understood, but not anymore.
As a van began to slowly pull toward Barney, Paul sat up in the bucket seat of the nondescript vehicle he often used for surveillance and gently placed his laptop on the passenger seat. “Luther, I gotta go.” He never took his eyes off his employee.
“All right. Just give me a call as soon as you find her.”
“I will.” Paul pressed the end button on his cell phone, unlocked the car door and slowly began to get out. The van came to a stop several feet from the back door of the club, and a small-framed, young white male stepped out. He exchanged a few words to Barney before reaching into the side of the van.
For all the high-tech, million-dollar equipment he used in his line of work as a security consultant, Paul felt few things served him better than the fleet of Motor City subcompact cars his company routinely used. So common and ordinary, no one ever noticed people getting in and out of them. It was this blandness that allowed him to cross the alley in plain sight of both men without drawing their attention.
It wasn’t until he’d almost reached them that they spotted him. He watched Barney’s eyes widen in surprise as the other man turned from the van holding a small video camera.
“B-boss, what are you doing here?” Barney managed to stutter out. The sweat was already beginning to form on his forehead.
“I could ask you the same thing.” Paul’s deep baritone voice was intimidating under usual circumstances, but with the hint of menace lacing each word there was no mistaking the hidden threat. “Aren’t you supposed to be inside watching Lacy Hill?”
The man with the camera looked from his informant to Paul and correctly surmised the situation.
He extended his hand with a bright smile. “You must be Paul Gutierrez, the mastermind behind G-Force Security Systems. Tom Stringer, National Examiner. What an honor to meet you, sir.”
Paul had also taken inventory and fully understood the situation. He’d come here tonight based on a suspicion that had just been proven true. He glanced at the extended hand before turning his complete attention back to his employee. “What are you doing out here in the alley with a reporter when you’re supposed to be inside looking after our client?”
“Um, I can explain everything.” Barney’s eyes darted in every direction like a cornered animal.
Just then the back door to the club opened, and rising pop star Lacy Hill spilled through the door surrounded by an entourage of colorful bodies. The top of the petite singer’s curly brunette head was barely visible amongst the barrage of people whom she insisted be allowed to follow her everywhere. As a precaution, Paul had had each of the flunkies thoroughly investigated and was satisfied that beyond suffocating her no one in the group posed a serious threat. A black-clad bodyguard closed in the small gaggle of people on three sides. Barney made up the fourth man of the detail.
The three large men were each looking around their positions for overzealous fanatics and ruthless paparazzi. None commented on the fourth member of their team and their boss standing off to the side.
Paul, who believed in complete honesty amongst his team members, had already explained the situation with Barney, and what he planned to do about it.
The crowd moved along like a giant, nosy beast pushing at a snail’s pace with each vying for Lacy’s attention.
Apparently Tom Stringer wasn’t about to let this opportunity get away. He lifted his camera for some exclusive closeups of Lacy Hill. His eyes glistened greedily as he no doubt heard the chiming of a cash register.
Suddenly, Paul collared him and held him in a vise grip. “Not so fast,” he growled, holding the reporter slightly off the ground.
Two limousines stopped in front of Lacy and her group. The drivers hurried around and opened the doors. The dozen or so people tried to push their way into the car with Lacy, but the ones who couldn’t get in rushed back to the second car so as not to be left behind.
Paul couldn’t help thinking the whole thing looked like some strange version of musical chairs. Within seconds, the limousines pulled away, back out onto the street, without Lacy or her friends ever knowing how close they came to being ambushed.
Once the limousines were out of sight Paul released his hostage. Tom gave him a quick, assessing glance and no doubt concluded that his life was not worth the videotape. So when Paul held out his hand for it, Tom quickly reached into his camera and pulled the cassette out.
“No hard feelings, right?” Tom swallowed and handed over the tape. Like everyone else in L.A., he’d heard the stories surrounding the owner of G-Force, the premier security company in town. But now looking into feral, dark brown eyes, he knew with certainty this was not a man he wanted to have as an enemy. “I mean, you can’t blame a guy for trying.” He began backing toward his van. “After all, I’m just doing my job.”
“Get out of here,” Paul snarled between his teeth.
Tom did not need a second warning. He hopped in the van, which was still running, and sped out of the alley, never looking back.
Once the van was out of sight, Paul turned back to his once trusted employee. His mouth twisted in disgust. “If you needed more money all you had to do was ask me for a raise.” He huffed. “Up until recently you were one of my top men. So…why?”
Barney slanted his boss a dark glance. “Am I fired?”
Paul just stared at him, amazed that the question was even asked. “What do you think?”
He started to turn away, then paused, feeling the need to express his deep disappointment and regret. “This business is all about trust, Barney. Our clients depend on us to protect them from people like Tom Stringer. You not only sold Lacy out, you sold me out.” Paul shook his head in disgust and started back toward his car.
“Sold you out!” Barney’s angry snarl stopped him in his tracks. “You sell us out every time you take on one of these celebrity brats. You don’t know what it’s like out here, man! You sit in your office punching that damn computer and you think you have a beat on things?” He gave a harsh laugh. “You have no idea what it’s like following someone like Lacy Hill around. She thinks we’re her slaves. Always trying to order us around. She treats us like crap.” He shook his head with such determination Paul was beginning to realize this wasn’t just about money. “There’s not enough money in the world to compensate for the way she treats us. Just a spoiled little tramp with no real talent. She uses us, so yeah, I used her back!”
Paul tilted his head and looked at the man he’d once called friend with a somewhat bemused expression. He quickly closed the distance between them. “You don’t get it, do you? You didn’t use Lacy Hill, Barney. You used me.” With that, Paul walked away, only hoping Barney realized he’d made the mistake of a lifetime.
Amber Lockhart watched the buttons light up on the elevator of the elegant Mondrian Hotel as it climbed to the penthouse. Her heart was pounding against her chest as she envisioned the evening ahead of her. A night spent in the arms of Detroit Chargers basketball player Dashuan Kennedy.
She was feeling so good she wanted to drop the shopping bags she carried in both hands and hug herself. Finally, she’d found Mr. Right. She glanced down at the small pink lingerie bag and smiled as she thought of the little piece of nothing she could not resist purchasing. On the charter flight from Detroit to L.A., Dashuan had revealed that green was his favorite color. If it wasn’t it soon will be, Amber thought with a little smirk. She sighed in satisfaction, imagining the look of lust she would see on his handsome face when she came out of the bathroom wearing the slinky lingerie.
Everything was working out so wonderfully it almost seemed too good to be true. But here she was on her way to Dashuan Kennedy’s penthouse suite to spend the evening with him. The first night of the rest of their lives together.
Up until now their relationship had been pretty chaste much to her dismay, just a few stolen kisses here and there. But Dashuan had explained that he hadn’t felt comfortable being with her in Detroit under the nose of her close family friend, D’marcus Armstrong, who also happened to be one of the Chargers owners.
But when Dashuan called her on her cell phone late last night inviting her to fly out to L.A. with him, there was something in his voice that said he was ready to take their relationship to the next level.
She’d answered yes without hesitation and packed her bags in even less time. A half hour later Dashuan’s car and driver arrived to pick her up and she was off on the adventure of a lifetime.
The elevator finally reached the penthouse level and she stepped off thinking about all the funny stories they would have to tell their children about how they came to be together against the greatest odds.
As she approached the door of the suite, she dug around in the bottom of her purse for the entry key and mentally ran through the final preparations of their special night. First she would call room service to order a romantic, candlelit dinner. Then she would slip into her new negligee and tease him by wearing it while they were eating dinner. After that, she planned to run a nice, warm bubble bath for two in the large outdoor hot tub on the penthouse balcony. Of course, by then, he should be close to crazy with lust. She smiled to herself. From there she would let Dashuan take the lead, although she was pretty sure his destination would be the bedroom.
As she entered the penthouse suite, the foyer was empty but she heard music and noise coming from the adjacent living room. She sighed in frustration, remembering the gang of hangers-on she’d been surprised to see when she’d arrived at the airfield last night. There had been a slight tinge of disappointment when she realized she and Dashuan would not be traveling alone, but she understood that was the cost of fame. The retinue included everyone from his agent, Skip Nelson, to his personal trainer, Kelvin Landy.
Dashuan had sent her on an all-expenses-paid shopping spree earlier that afternoon while he discussed a couple of endorsement deals with his agent. He’d told her that by the time she returned, all the business stuff would be out of the way and they could concentrate on cementing their relationship.
He’d promised to get rid of his friends so they could be alone, but given the noise coming from the other room, his soft heart had surrendered.
Well, Amber thought, tucking her bags in the front closet, if Dashuan did not know how to get rid of the party crashers, she did. It would be good practice for when they were married. Dashuan was much too sweet and kind to tell his friends when they were not welcome. Apparently that would be her job.
She checked her appearance in the mirror once more. She was pleased with what she saw. Her long, golden mane was just windswept enough to give her a natural sensuality, and combined with her large, golden eyes and full, pouty lips there was no denying her allure.
Her smile faded a little as she considered her belief that her beauty was her greatest asset. She had no special skills to speak of. She couldn’t sing like her sister Pearl, nor was she supersmart like her sisters Opal and Ruby. But she was beautiful. She knew this with certainty because she had been told so all of her life.
She’d always felt awkward and out of place in her family of exceptional and dynamic women—until in her early teens, as a girl on the verge of womanhood, she smiled at a man and watched as his whole body reacted. There was a sense of power and euphoria that raced through her, and from that moment she was addicted. She knew being beautiful was her special skill. She didn’t kid herself into believing Dashuan would’ve ever noticed her had it not been for her pretty face and shapely form.
Amber reached up and touched her flawless, bronze skin, looking at her reflection in the mirror. The only problem with her particular skill was that it was hers for a limited time only. As time passed she would grow old and her beauty would fade away.
And so will I…
Shaking off the melancholy mood that sometimes struck out of the blue, she pasted on a smile and prepared to get rid of Dashuan’s unwanted guests. From the sound of drunken revelry that became clearer and clearer, she knew it would not be an easy task.
But like it or not, they had to go. She had a basketball player to seduce.
As she rounded the corner leading into the living room, she heard something that sent a chill up her spine. It sounded like a woman moaning in sexual pleasure. Amber slowed her steps upon hearing the noise, which was followed by a deep, satisfied, masculine groan. She paused, feeling the hair on the back of her neck stand up. Every instinct in her was telling her to turn around and flee.
Instead, Amber forced one foot in front of the other and continued until she was standing in plain view of the large living room. Then she felt the blood drain from her pretty face.
Chapter 2
With Paul’s connections, finding Amber Lockhart had been a matter of a couple of phone calls. Of course, the fact that she was staying in the penthouse of a five-star hotel with a famous athlete who was recognizable on sight didn’t hurt matters.
Paul entered the lobby of the Mondrian Hotel and headed in the direction of the check-in counter. Although he had no desire to disappoint Luther, Paul was pretty sure he already knew how this was going to play out. After all, the girl was twenty-one and, from what Luther told him, something of a wild child. He doubted seriously if she would willingly leave Dashuan Kennedy’s penthouse.
Paul’s plan was simple. He would find the guest phone, call the penthouse and ask Amber to come down and meet him. If she agreed, he would express the concerns of her family and friends. She would probably tell him to mind his own business and return to the penthouse suite.
Then Paul could tell Luther she was okay but refused to leave, and that would be that. Paul sighed in exasperation, thinking that between Lacy Hill and Amber Lockhart he’d had his fill of spoiled brats for one night.
After the desk clerk pointed him in the direction of the guest phones across from the elevators, he glanced at his watch, surprised to realize it was after midnight, not that that meant much in a town like L.A. He decided he would catch a late dinner once he finished up here and head home. He picked up the guest phone and dialed the extension the clerk had given him for the penthouse. He leaned against the counter and listened to the ringing.
The elevator doors parted in front of him and there stood an angel. Paul tilted his head to the side as if considering what his eyes were seeing. She wiped at her nose with the balled-up tissue in her hand, and blew loudly into it. The uncouth gesture was enough to make her real.
Paul watched as she stepped forward out of the elevator with slumped shoulders and fresh tears in her eyes, and he wanted nothing more than to drop the phone and take her into his arms. She looked around the large lobby as if surprised to find herself there.
Her golden eyes settled on him and ran the length of his long body in quick assessment, before returning to his face and moving away. She sniffed again, and Paul frowned, wondering what kind of monster would make an angel cry.
She just stood there holding shopping bags in each hand and looking so lost and forlorn, it touched his heart. The penthouse phone had rung several times. Paul was tempted to hang it up and go offer his assistance to the angel. But he’d promised Luther he would find Amber, and that had to come first.
Seeming to finally get her bearings, she began moving away from the elevators. Just then, the doors on another elevator opened, and out stepped Dashuan Kennedy. Paul only recognized him from sports clips on ESPN and newspaper write-ups. Paul himself wasn’t exactly a Chargers fan.
Dashuan raced across the lobby and headed straight for the angel. Paul twisted his mouth. Of course the angel would be with the pro athlete. He slammed the phone down on the receiver and followed Dashuan Kennedy. By the time he reached them, Dashuan had the woman’s arm in a vise grip and they were arguing loudly enough that people were beginning to stare.
“Just come back upstairs and let’s talk about this!” Dashuan was hissing at her.
The woman’s golden eyes were wide with anger and some other unreadable emotion. “Let me go! There is nothing to talk about. I saw what I saw!”
“What do you think you saw, Amber? What are you going to tell people?” Dashuan was holding both her arms so tightly, he was slowly lifting her off the ground.
“Let her go.” Paul’s deep baritone seemed to ripple on the air.
Still holding Amber tight, Dashuan spun around to confront whoever would dare to get in his business. “Keep walking, man. This doesn’t have anything to do with you.”
Ignoring Dashuan, Paul looked directly into Amber’s startled eyes. “If that’s Amber Lockhart you’re holding, then I’m afraid you’re wrong.”
Her thin sandy brown eyebrows crinkled and she tilted her head. Paul realized that a confused angel was as adorable as a sad one.
“Do I know you?” she asked. Her soft voice cracked on the tears that continued to form no matter how she wiped them away.
“I’m a friend of Luther Biggens.” Paul paused, realizing this was going to play out a lot differently than he had first assumed. “He sent me to get you. That is…if you are ready to leave.”
She nodded her head frantically.
It was all the authorization Paul needed. His attention swiveled back to Dashuan. “I’m only going to say this once more. Let her go.”
“I don’t give a damn who sent you. This has nothing to do with you.” He turned his attention back to Amber. “We need to talk about this.”
“There is nothing to talk about, Dashuan. It’s over! You’ve made your preference perfectly clear!” Her mouth twisted in disgust. “And to think…I thought you were the one.”
Something like hope came into Dashuan’s light brown eyes. “Baby, don’t you see? Now that you know the truth, I can be the one. We can give each other just what we need. I’ll take care of you, Amber, I swear—”
Dashuan’s oath was cut short when Paul karate-chopped him on the shoulder. He released Amber and turned on Paul.
Paul stood in a battle stance, his muscular legs solidly placed. Even as his hand reached out for Amber, his eyes narrowed on Dashuan’s face.
Amber saw the large hand being lifted toward her and apparently needed no further coaxing. She rushed past Dashuan right into the arms of the stranger.
Paul’s strong arm closed around her waist as he pulled her close to his chest. He watched Dashuan Kennedy transform into some mad animal right before his eyes.
Dashuan reached behind him and pulled out a small handgun from the waistband of his slacks.
Paul huffed, looking at the small cap gun. Someone’s been watching too many movies. Still holding Amber against his side and trying to ignore how good her soft body felt nestled against his own, Paul lifted his jacket to reveal the long-barreled Magnum tucked neatly at his side. There was no mistaking the message. My gun could eat your gun for breakfast.
He glanced around at all the people who’d stopped to watch the confrontation, including several of the hotel staff. He wondered if 911 had been called yet. Probably so.
Paul quickly regretted letting his temper get the better of him and striking Dashuan. Now he realized this thing could get real ugly. He had to try and reason with the man before someone got shot. Given the way Dashuan was shaking, he hadn’t ever used the weapon. Probably just a showpiece, Paul thought.
“Now come on, Kennedy. Think about it. Do you really want to get into a shootout in a hotel lobby? Your face will be on the cover of every gossip rag in L.A. by morning. From what I hear your career is struggling as it is. Is this really the kind of publicity you want?”