One Season And Dynasties Collection

Head in hands, she began to cry for all she and Vince had lacked when they were children. Not just material things, but adults to provide the care that every child needed. As much as they had looked out for each other, they’d always have holes in their hearts.

She wept for this week—for this failed chance to catapult her career to a potential high. For this lost opportunity to turn her goals into reality.

And she sobbed because she’d unexpectedly found a love in Ethan truer than any she could have imagined.

A love that the crux of her knew she would never have again. But she wasn’t able to claim it.

Numbly, she picked up her phone. “Vinz...?”

“What’s wrong?”

Only her brother would know after one syllable that she was shattered.

With the back of her hand she wiped the tears from her face. “I guess New York is not how I thought it would be.”

“You wouldn’t be the first person to say that.”

“The thing is, I sort of think I’ve let you down.”

Holly stopped herself there. She didn’t have to explain everything right now. Maybe Ethan wouldn’t hold all this against Vince. At this point she didn’t have any control over the situation. All she had was regrets.

“Why would you have let me down? Because you took a shot and it didn’t pan out? At least you did it.”

“I’m just licking my wounds. I want to come home.”

Where was home? She’d given up her dingy apartment in Fort Pierce to pin everything on her future. Neither she nor Vince had any current information on their mother’s whereabouts.

“Fly here to Miami. My garage is yours to paint in. And my sofa bed has your name on it. I’ll pick you up at the airport.”

After the call, Holly took inventory of the mini art studio she’d set up by the window. Methodically she cleaned brushes. Tucked sketches into portfolios. She organized neatly, remembering the open tube of paint that had started this magical ride in New York. Cobalt Two Eleven all over her face.

Her gaze darted to the blue-painted sketch of Ethan on the wall. She was so proud of that piece—felt that she had caught his spirit in each line. Power and gravity and sensuality, with demons fighting behind his eyes.

As a matter of fact she would take the painting with her. It would either be a testament to the legacy Ethan would hold in her heart forever. Or it would be a torment that would haunt her for the rest of her days. Either way, it was hers and she wanted it.

With a small knife she found in the kitchen she carefully removed the staples attaching the canvas to its frame. She’d roll up the painting and buy a tube to transport it in before she left town.

There was nothing more to do.

She wasn’t interested in sleeping. Didn’t want to give up even one last minute of this magical city and its hex that made people believe dreams could come true. These moments were all she had, and she’d treasure them for a lifetime.

She stared out the window. A million stories were unfolding in the city. Hers would end here.

Inching off the diamond engagement ring, she placed it next to the paper ring on the coffee table. Beside each other they were as odd a couple as she and Ethan.

As usual, not knowing what else to do with her feelings, Holly said goodbye to her fancy manicure and reached for her charcoals.

Ethan closed the door on the hotel room where he’d managed a few hours of tortured sleep in a chair. He walked down the hall to Aunt Louise’s suite. Still in his tuxedo pants, although his tie was off and the first two buttons of his shirt were undone, he scratched his beard stubble. He’d been unable to face a shower just yet, and had promised his aunt they’d reconvene their discussion during breakfast.

“Come in, Ethan,” Louise called out as soon as she heard the keycard click to unlock the door.

“I have not had coffee!” Ethan managed a trace of a smile for his beloved aunt.

“I’ll pour you a cup.” Louise wore a dressing gown and slippers. She sat at the dining table in her luxury suite, heavy drapes open to the city.

Ethan took the seat across from her.

“Does anything look different to you in the light of morning?” She tipped her eyebrow to him in a familiar way.

When he was a teenager, living with her and Uncle Mel, if he’d been grappling with a dilemma or regretting a bad choice, Aunt Louise would always tell him to sleep on it and see if a new day brought any fresh insight.

The insistence in her arched brow today told him that she had decided what realization he should have come to. His intuition told him what her conclusion was. He peered into his coffee cup to try to shut the thought down.

Something like a tribal drum pounded inside him, urging him to lift his eyes and embrace the truth.

“Where is Fernando?” Ethan tried to change the subject—at least for a moment.

But on and on the internal drum sounded.

“Gone. Good riddance,” Louise clipped. “Before dawn this morning I called Bob Parcell to draw up a non-disclosure agreement.”

Ethan snorted. “Lawyers work around the clock.”

“Ours do. I signed a generous check, contingent on the fact that Fernando never speaks a word about our family, our company or anything to do with us. If he does, our people will make sure the rest of his life is spent behind bars.”

“Well done.”

Louise took a sip of her coffee, then smacked the cup loudly back onto the saucer. “And that, my dear nephew, is the end of my foray into having a younger companion.”

After Holly had disappeared last night he and Louise had held their heads high until the last guest had left the gala. Then they’d sat up together until the wee hours. He’d confessed about the engagement ploy and his motivation behind it. Begged for her forgiveness. Told her about the fax and Fernando’s part in it.

Now Ethan lifted his aunt’s hand and gently kissed the back of it. “I am so sorry you fell prey to him”

“Don’t you think I knew what he was doing?” she retorted. “His trips down here to New York while I stayed in Boston. The restaurant bills that were surely more expensive than dinner for one. Charges to women’s clothing shops although I never received any gifts. Fernando was clearly taking advantage of me from the beginning.”

“You never told me.”

“The vanity of a rich old woman... Perhaps I thought I could simply buy myself something to replace the emptiness left by your Uncle Mel’s death. But even with all the money in the world you can’t purchase or declare love. You can’t arrange it. It’s love that rearranges you.”

Ethan knew what she was telling him. The drum beat louder in his ears. Yet he couldn’t. Mustn’t. Wouldn’t.

“I know that you’re torn inside...” Louise continued.

For all her health problems, when Louise Benton was clearheaded she was a shrewd and intelligent woman.

“It’s what I feared for you. That after so much loss you wouldn’t be able to love. When your mother went—”

“You were the only mother I ever had,” Ethan interrupted, taking her hand again. “Everything I have achieved is because of you.”

Louise’s eyes welled. “I must have done something right. You’re a rare man to go through all this trouble to get me to retire. When I said I wanted you to be married and settled before you took over, I never imagined you’d concoct such an elaborate scheme just because I’ve been too hardheaded to see that my time has come. And I had no idea I’d raised such a skilled imposter!”

She snickered, forcing a crack through Ethan’s tight lips.

“We Bentons do what we have to, do we not?” he joked in a hushed voice.

“My guess is that your playacting became real and you’ve fallen in love with Holly. Am I right, Ethan?”

He wanted to cover his ears, like a young child who didn’t want to hear what was being said. Love her? Those drumbeats inside him sped up like a jungle warrior charging toward his most threatening battle.

Yes, he loved Holly. He loved her completely—like nothing he’d ever loved before. He wanted to give her everything she’d never had. Wanted to have children with her. Wanted to spend every minute of his life with her. Wanted to hold her forever as both his wife and his best friend.

That invisible opponent marched toward him and pushed him back behind the battle lines.

He lashed out without thinking. “Holly deceived me about her past. She lied to me. Look at what she came from.”

“Oh, hogwash!” Louise dismissed. “How about what you came from? What I came from? Your father and Uncle Mel were brought up on the tough streets of South Boston without a dime or a university degree between them. I was a poor Southie girl whose father skinned fish for a living. It’s not shame about Holly’s past that you’re concerned with. The time has come for you to let go of shame about your own.”

Of course he wore shame—like a suit of armor. Who wouldn’t be ashamed that his own mother didn’t want him?

He studied his aunt’s face. Hard-earned wrinkles told the story of a life embraced. Could he let go of his pain and open up to the fullness the world had to offer?

Could he gamble again on trust?

Gamble on Holly?

On himself?

In an instant he knew that if he didn’t now, he never would.

He sprang to his feet. Leaned down to Louise and kissed both her cheeks. Moved to the office desk in the well-appointed suite. Wrote a quick note and then sent it through the fax machine.

“Wish me luck,” he said as he flew out the door, too impatient to wait for a response.

In his hotel room, he shaved and showered. Called Leonard to bring the car around. He placed a second call to George Alvarez, manager of the Miami office.

“What are your thoughts about the site supervisor position?” Ethan asked him.

Liz Washington, the previous supervisor, had transferred to the Houston office.

“I’ve had a young guy apprenticing with Liz for a couple of years now. Done a terrific job,” George pitched. “He’s ready for the step up. Name of Vince Motta.”

“Yes, Vince Motta,” Ethan approved with relief.

He valued George, and wouldn’t want to go against his expertise. But he knew that if he was able to help Vince it would mean a lot to Holly. That was the kind of sister she was. The kind of woman she was.

The kind of woman he was going to make his.

He raced down the hotel corridor to the elevators, and then out through the front entrance of the hotel. Because once Ethan Benton had made up his mind about something, it couldn’t happen fast enough.

“To the apartment,” he instructed Leonard as he got into the car.

After Holly had vanished from the gala last night Ethan had checked the hotel suites. She had been nowhere to be found. Even though there had been no answer on her cell phone, or at the apartment, that was where he figured she’d gone. A midnight phone call to the building’s doorman had confirmed that Holly had indeed arrived by taxi.

Yes, he had called the doorman to investigate her whereabouts! How could she blame him for an action like that? He oversaw a corporation with thousands of employees all over the world. He couldn’t possibly command that without being on top of all available knowledge. Information was power. Artistic Holly Motta might not understand that, but he relied on it. She’d have to get used to the way he thought.

Just as he’d have to get used to her freewheeling ways. How she slammed doors closed with one foot. Ordered pizza with everything but the kitchen sink on it. Said whatever came into her mind. Needed to devote hours of scrubbing to getting her hands clean of paint. Ethan thought he wouldn’t mind spending a lifetime looking at and holding those graceful fingers that brought art and beauty into the world. Seeing the ring on her finger that proclaimed her lo—

“Leonard! I need to make a stop first. Take me to Fifth and Fifty-Seventh.”

Holly winced when she heard the key in the door. If only she’d stuck to her original plan and left at the crack of dawn after her sleepless night. She’d known that Ethan would make his way back here to the apartment. It would have been easier to slink away than to say goodbye in person. What was it that had kept her from going?

Her heart dropped in freefall to the floor as he strode through the door. She wanted to run to him. To put her arms around him. To kiss him until all the problems of the world faded away and there was just the two of them.

“Why did you leave last night?”

His eyes looked weary. His cheeks were flushed.

That one perfect curl of hair that always fell forward on his forehead was dotted with snowflakes. So was his coat.

Holly shifted her gaze out the window to see that it had started to snow. The whole week she’d been in New York it had rained and been cold and dreary. But it hadn’t snowed.

She’d fantasized about walking the city streets during a snowfall. Seeing the soft powder billowing down as she crossed busy intersections and marveled at architectural landmarks that stood proudly dusted with white.

Instead she’d be returning to the sunny Florida winter. Snow—ha! That was what fantasy was. By definition not real.

“Answer my question,” he insisted.

Holly’s voice came out hoarse. “I’m truly embarrassed by my behavior. I know it was completely unprofessional.”

She cut her eyes toward the floor.

“Look at me. How about the fact that I was worried about you?”

“What do you care? Let’s be honest.”

He stepped in and took her chin in his hand, lifting her face to meet his. “Certainly you leaving the gala without a word was not good business...” he began.

“I’m so sorry.”

“But this is not business anymore, and if you want to be honest you know that.”

“Know what?”

He moved his hand to caress her cheek tenderly, sending warmth across her skin.

“I love you, Holly. I love you. And I suspect you love me, too.”

Tears pooled somewhere far behind her eyes. She fought them before saying what she needed to. “Now that you know the truth about me from your investigation, you’ve found out that I’m not who you want. I’m not a match for you. I’m damaged goods.”

“You think you are the only one?”

“What do you mean?”

He let the hand that was touching her face fall to his side. His mouth set in a straight line.

“After my father died...” he started, but then let the words dangle in the air for a minute.

Holly anxiously awaited what he was so hesitant to say.

“Within a few months of my father dying, my mother—who was not much of a mother to begin with—met a man. And together they came up with an idea.”

Bare pain burned in Ethan’s eyes. Holly knew he was going to tell her something he had to dig out from the rock bottom of his core, where he kept it submerged.

“My mother told Uncle Mel and Aunt Louise that she and this man were going to take me away. That they would never see or hear from me again unless...”

He swallowed hard, his breath rasping and broken.

He regained his voice, “Unless they wanted to keep me instead. Which she would allow them to do in exchange for five hundred thousand dollars. In cash. She specified cash.”

Agony poured from every cell in Holly’s body. Grief for the little boy Ethan. And for herself. For her brother, Vince. For all the children unlucky enough to be born to parents who didn’t give them the devotion they deserved.

“So, you see, my mother sold me to my aunt and uncle. I believe that means that you are not the only package of damaged goods around here.”

The spoken words swirled around the room.

Again Holly wanted to hug the man she loved.

And again she didn’t.

It was time for her to go.

He thought he loved her. He’d fallen for the drama they were starring in.

She’d have to have the cooler head. If she let him believe he loved her, one day he’d wake up and realize that he didn’t want something this raw. That instead he could stuff his hurt right back down and act in a different play, with another kind of woman. With someone who’d never have to know about the betrayed and discarded child. About the gashes that still bled, the sores that would never heal. In his next pantomime he could be with a woman who knew only the functional and successful adult he’d managed to become.

She averted her eyes to the diamond ring on the table. To the beer wrapper ring beside it. She bent down for them and handed both to Ethan.

“I am glad you’ve returned these rings,” he said. “They do not belong on your finger.”

His words confirmed what she already knew. That it was time to leave.

He reached in his pocket and pulled out a small turquoise box. Holly’s breath quickened.

He knelt down on one knee and held it out to her in the palm of his hand.

“Because an ordinary diamond ring does not fit the uniqueness of you. Like this, you are one of a kind.”

He opened the box. Inside was the blue topaz ring she had admired from the private gemstone collection they’d seen that day they had gone shopping.

Uncontainable tears rolled down Holly’s cheeks.

“I love you, Holly. I have loved you since you bounced through the door with that ridiculous blue paint on your face. I have never met anyone like you. Pretending to be engaged to you has shown me something I never thought I could see.”

“What?” Holly asked, her spirits soaring.

“That our pain does not have to define us. That a past and a future can coexist. That there is beauty to be had every day. I want to share those miracles with you. To walk through life together. Please. Please. Will you marry me? This time the ring will never leave your finger.”

She had to take the chance if he was willing to. To trust their authentic selves—scars and all. Together.

“I will.” She nodded as he fitted the ring onto her finger.

Ethan stood. Holly reached her arms up around his neck and drew him into a kiss that couldn’t wait a second longer.

Many minutes later he whispered, “Did you check the fax machine?”

“No.” She’d heard the sounds and beeps of the machine before he arrived, but she hadn’t looked to see what had come. She’d had quite enough of faxes already.

“Go,” he prodded.

The piece of paper contained a two-word question.

Will you?

Had she read it earlier, she’d have known he was coming to propose.

She flirted with her fiancé. “Will I...?”

The smile kicked at the corner of his mouth. “Will you teach me how to draw?”

“It’s a deal.” Her grin joined his.

They pressed their lips to each other’s in an ironclad merger, valid for eternity.

Unveiling The Bridesmaid

Jessica Gilmore

Best man for the bridesmaid!

A devastating accident left Hope McKenzie the sole carer for her little sister. So now that her sister is engaged, Hope will do all she can to organize the wedding—even if that means dealing with reluctant best man Gael O’Connor!

Famous New York artist Gael has spent his life observing his parents’ affairs—he’s convinced love is a sham. But in spending time with shy Hope, he coaxes her out of her shell. And soon wonders if this beautiful bridesmaid is what he’s been missing all along!

For Kristy, roommate, cocktail enabler and partner in crime extraordinaire.

Here’s to many more RWA conferences—and another evening in the rum bar some day. xxx

CHAPTER ONE

BEEP, BEEP, BEEEEEP.

Hope McKenzie muttered and rolled over, reaching out blindly to mute her alarm, her hand scrabbling to find the ‘off’ button, the ‘pause’ button, the ‘Please make it stop right now’ button. Only... Hang on a second... She didn’t have an alarm clock here in New York; she used her phone on the rare occasions when the sun, traffic and humidity didn’t wake her first. So what was that noise? And why wouldn’t it stop?

Beeeeeep.

Whatever it was, it was getting more and more insistent, and louder by the second. Hope pushed herself up, every drowsy limb fighting back as she swung her legs over the metal frame of the narrow daybed and staggered to her feet, glancing at the watch on her wrist. Five-thirty a.m. She blinked, the small room swimming into dim focus, still grey with predawn stillness, the gloom broken only by the glow of the street light, a full floor below her sole window.

Beeeeeep.

It wasn’t a fire alarm or a smoke alarm. There were no footsteps pounding down the stairs of the apartment building, no sirens screeching outside, just the high insistent beep coming from the small round table in the window bay. No, coming from her still-open laptop on the small round table in the window bay.

‘What the...?’ Hope stumbled the few short steps to the table and turned the laptop around to face her. The screen blared into life, bright colour dazzling her still-half-closed eyes, letters jumbling together as she blinked again, rubbing her eyes with one sleepy hand until the words swam into focus.

Faith calling. Accept?

Faith? At this time? Was she in trouble? Hurt? Wait, where was she? Had she left Europe yet? Maybe she’d been framed for drug smuggling? Maybe she had been robbed and lost all her money? Why had Hope left her to travel alone? Why had she swanned off to New York for six months while her baby sister was out there by herself alone and vulnerable? With a trembling hand Hope pressed the enter key to accept the call, pushing her hair out of her eyes, scanning the screen anxiously and pulling up the low neckline of the old, once-white vest top she slept in.

‘Faith?’ Hope took a deep breath, relief replacing the blind panic of the last few seconds as her sister’s tanned, happy face filled the screen. ‘Is everything okay?’

‘Everything is fab! Oh, did I wake you? Hang on, did I get the time wrong? I thought it would be evening in New York.’

‘No, it’s morning, we’re behind not ahead. But don’t worry about that,’ she added as her sister’s face fell. ‘It’s lovely to hear from you, to see you. Where are you?’ Still in Europe somewhere, she thought, doing a quick date calculation. Despite Faith’s promises to call and write often, contact with her little sister had been limited since Faith had boarded the Eurostar, just over three months ago, to start her grand tour. She was spending the summer Interrailing around Europe before flying to Australia to begin the global part of her adventures but, unlike her big sister, Faith preferred to go with the flow rather than follow a meticulously thought-out plan. Which meant she could be anywhere.

Hope grinned at her sister, the early hour forgotten. It was okay that Faith had been a little quiet; she was busy exploring and having fun. The last thing she wanted to do was call her fusspot of a big sister who would only nag her about budgets and eating well.

‘I’m in Prague.’ Faith pulled back from the screen a little to show the room—and view—behind her. She was in some kind of loft, sitting in front of French windows, which led out to a stone balcony. Hope could just make out what must be dazzling views of the river and castle behind. Wow, youth hostels were a lot fancier than she had imagined.

‘I thought you arrived in Prague six weeks ago?’ Faith hadn’t intended spending more than a few days in any one place and Hope was pretty sure her sister had texted her from Prague at the beginning of July.

‘I did. I never left. Oh, Hope, it’s like a fairy tale here. You would love it.’