Chosen Heart (The Hart Series)

by Stewart, Ann

  What the hell, I’m sure talking to him cannot be as painful as talking to Autumn. Reciprocating the gesture I place my hand in his. “Elyssa; nice to meet you.”

  “That’s exotic! El-y-ssa,” he phonetically pronounces my name. “I like how it rolls off my tongue.” I fight the urge to vomit. The thought of anything rolling off his tongue right now is not appealing. But, beggars can’t be choosers and maybe he’ll grow on me, possibly curing me of my obsession with Mr. Unattainable James.

  Our conversation is quite dull, but Sam did buy me another Martini so I almost feel obligated to sit and chat with him, at least until I finish my cocktail. He discusses his day and I learn he’s the Regional Sales Manager for a local office supply company. As he rants about the exciting world of paper clips, I feel my initial attraction to him slowly disintegrate. “Another drink, Elyssa?” he suggests, placing his hand on my shoulder. I cringe at his touch.

  Hoping to send the message that he clearly has no chance in hell, I attempt to slink out of his grasp. “No Sam, I should be going. It was nice to meet you.” As I stand, he moves his hand and encircles my waist, pulling me tight against him. With my back to his front, he whispers in my ear, making my skin crawl.

  “Leaving so soon?” The smell of alcohol is strong as his eager hands feel around my waist line.

  “I need to get back to my friends.” Again, I attempt to pull out of his forceful grasp, but I’m met with resistance. Starting to feel nervous, I try to squirm out of his touch, but fail. His grip is much tighter than I expected.

  His lips are against my earlobe as he continues to whisper, “How about I take you home? Where do you live, baby?”

  My patience is lost. I turn to face him and look him dead in the eyes. Thinking he won this battle, his lips curl up in a presumptuous smile. “Sam, I don’t know of a nice way to say this, but I’m not interested. I said it was nice to meet you, and now you need to let go of me before I scream.” I push against his chest, but feel his arm around my waist tighten.

  “Oh, I see what’s going on. You’re one of those gold diggin’ bitches!” he huffs, loudly.

  “Really, asshole? You bought me one drink, not a trip around the world. Let-Me-Go.”

  Not getting a chance to open my mouth and shout to the rooftops, a force came down on Sam’s arm, effectively removing his hold against my waist. At the same time, another arm swoops in and wraps around me, pulling me close. His muscular build rests against my back as the scent of citrus calms me. I would recognize that scent anywhere. Turning in his arms, I look into his beautiful face. His brows furrow as his piercing blue eyes are ablaze with anger. Looking every bit the protector, he repositions me behind him, putting himself between me and Sam.

  “I believe she said it was nice meeting you. So, how about you run along?” Mr. James is now glaring at Sam through narrowed eyes, fists at his side, with his sleeves rolled up showing the tension in his forearms underneath his charcoal grey shirt.

  “Who the fuck are you?” Sam slurs, ignoring the threat standing in front of him.

  Through gritted teeth he seethes, “She’s mine. You put your hands on her again and I’ll fucking break them.” Wow, that sounded too real. Even if it is a lie, I like the thought of belonging to him.

  Sam holds his hands up in submission, “Dude, she didn’t tell me she was taken. Maybe you should tell your woman to stop being such a whore!” Grabbing his scotch, he tries to flee in the opposite direction. But, unfortunately for him, Mr. James pounces the moment the word whore escapes his lips. With the force of a thousand men, he seizes Sam by his shoulders, shoving him to the ground.

  With a fear stricken face, Sam cowers on the floor as Mr. James retracts his arm, readying himself to attack. But, before he can pound him even further into the ground, I quickly move around his muscular body, placing my hand on his chest. In an instant, his gaze meets mine and I’m hit with his rage and desire. Holy hell.

  “Please don’t. I’m fine, see.” Stepping away I gesture towards my intact appearance. “You don’t have to do this.”

  Leaving Sam on the floor practically urinating himself, he grabs my hand, yanking me towards the back. Just out of sight, he stops abruptly, and leans me against the solid brick wall, placing both hands against the stone behind me. Encircling me in his muscular arms for protection, he finally speaks. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Yes, I’m fine.” A little stunned, but fine nonetheless. I stare up at his anger flushed face, a brief smile of relief sweeps across his lips as he surveys me. My breath hitches as the back of his fingers gently traces my jaw line, staring into each other’s eyes for what seems like an eternity, but not long enough; green eyes to blue.

  “I saw that he wasn’t taking no for an answer and I thought he might need a little convincing.”

  “You saved me from having to rough him up myself.” We both laugh and the tension rolls off both of us, leaving a weightless feeling of joy. At least for me it does and from the sight of his laughing eyes, I hope his anger has subsided.

  I look around and my brain finally catches up with the realization that he’s here. When? How? “Wait?! Why are you here? Are you here for happy hour?”

  He shakes his head, a little from the laughter, but also to answer my question, but doesn’t utter a word. I guess I’m supposed to be a mind reader.

  “I don’t understand. You’re going to have to be a little clearer than that, Mr. James.”

  Looking down, staring at his impeccably shiny dress shoes, he sighs and places his hands in his pockets. He ignores me completely. “Well, as long as you’re not hurt, I should go. Do you have a ride home?” Why won’t he answer me?

  I tense, peeking around the corner to where I left Janice and Autumn. My eyes reach the now vacant table. I can’t believe they fucking left me! “I came with Janice, but it appears she may have left without me,” I sigh in disappointment. I really thought Janice and I could be friends. “It’s okay; I can take a cab back to work to get my car.”

  “I can give you a ride back,” he offers hesitantly, obviously trying to gauge my reaction.

  “You wouldn’t mind?” I chirp, a little too eager. It would avoid a cab ride. Oh, and the little fact that I would be spending time with a man I’ve been dreaming about for the past four nights.

  “I wouldn’t have offered if I minded, Ms. Hart,” witticism laced in each word. “Do you have all your things?” Nodding, he clutches my hand, escorting me through the crowd. As the ocean of patrons thickens, he tightens his grip. My hand fits perfectly, as if this is where it was meant to be. Seriously, Ely? You’ve had all of five conversations with him. Slow down!

  I’ve imagined numerous times what it would feel like to be close to him, to feel him, and now here we are, my hand engulfed in his, making my heart flutter. This is even better than I imagined. Thank you, Janice!

  CHAPTER 4

  The scent of citrus from Alex’s cologne clings to the interior of his car as I enter into a whole other world; one of privilege, something I know nothing of. With his leather seats hugging my hips, I can almost picture how it would feel to be taken into his embrace. Breathing in, I’m lost in his aroma.

  In the blink of an eye he’s sitting next to me, frowning as he brings the engine to life. Leaving the car to idle at a dull roar, Alex sits in silence, deep in thought. What I wouldn’t give to know what he’s thinking. Our moment of tranquility is disrupted as he reaches over, brushing his forearm against my thigh. I tighten at his unexpected movement. Sending tingles throughout my body, I’m suddenly very aware of how close he is. His neck just inches away from my mouth, I let my mind wander and imagine my lips against his throat, inhaling the musky flavor of his cologne as my tongue runs from his throat to his ear and then back.

  My lips quiver as I run my eyes across his jaw line. Alex swallows back his words as his lips part. Turning his head slightly, his eyes meet mine as his focus turns to my awaiting lips. This is the moment; the moment of opportunity.
If he could read my mind he would know how I long for his lips against mine. Resting my eyelids in anticipation, I wait for the feel of his soft lips, the coolness of his breath pushing through my heated awareness.

  CLICK! My seatbelt fastens, hugging my chest tight against the seat. His scent fades as he brushes against me returning to his seat. My eyes fly open, realizing he’s no longer within kissing distance and with a pang of disappointment I turn and mutter my appreciation, “Thanks.” Hopefully he doesn’t sense the disappointment in my tone as I’m sure it’s clearly written on my face. I turn to face the passenger window, hoping to mask my frustration. That was too close.

  The silence is maddening as we head towards work. I need to know more about him, more about what makes him tick. But, instead of engaging him in conversation, I sit with my hands folded in my lap, staring out at the passing street lights. Maybe his appeal is a figment of my imagination. Maybe my fantasy is better than the real man. Ha! Who am I kidding?! The only way I’ll ever know is to seize the moment. Carpe diem!

  Sitting waiting for the light to turn green, I take my chance. “So do you have plans for the weekend?”

  “Just the usual. What about you?” I barely know you, how would I know what the usual is?

  “Not sure. Didn’t really make any other plans and considering they ditched me, tonight turned out a little different than what I was expecting.”

  Hopefully he can read between the lines because the bait I just threw out is fresh. But, I wouldn’t even know what to do with him if he took the lure and ran with it. With his eyes fixed on the road ahead, he rubs his thumb across his lower lip. Finally able to make our way through the light, we continue heading north passing a few more streets, before he speaks again.

  “Have you ever been up to Red Rock?”

  He took it…reel it in! “I’ve been meaning to go hiking there, but haven’t had a chance.” I don’t know if I’m more excited that my poor effort at flirtation worked or the prospect of just spending the night with him. Just the anticipation is more excitement than I’ve had all year.

  “Really? There are some amazing views of the city up there. Of course, a few years ago when there weren’t as many homes, it was nicer, but it’s still a spectacular view. You can see the whole valley, all the way across to the Frenchman Mountains.” Peeking over at me his face lights up, as if he’s discovered a lost secret treasure. “If you’re up for it, we can go.”

  “Now?” Biting my lower lip, I try to hide my excitement. Not wanting to sound too eager, I simply nod in agreement. Inwardly, I’m screaming like a neon sign…YES! Turning towards him, I see a hint of a smile spread across his lips, mimicking mine.

  Who would’ve thought that going to Happy Hour with Janice would turn into a trip to Red Rock? This unexpected turn of events has me thinking back to the bar and what led up to this crazy moment. He never explained how he ended up there.

  Knowing he doesn’t like it when I blurt out my questions, I try tact this time, hoping he’ll give me a straight answer. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “You can ask, doesn’t mean I’ll answer,” he says smugly, continuing north. Of course that would be his answer. Should I expect this every time I want to know something more about him? Then again, everything he does seems to be out of the norm. It’s peculiar that he would almost get into a fist fight at the bar, but doesn’t take the two opportunities he had to kiss me. Instead I’m left feeling bereft. One minute I think maybe, just maybe, he feels something for me, but then he makes me feel as if I’m a charity case. As if he’s just another man sent to protect me from myself.

  “You never answered my question. Why were you at the bar?”

  Without thinking, he answers. “I saw you leaving with Janice, and wanted to know what your plans were. Not that I would have, but I couldn’t throw myself in front of her car to ask.” With raised brows, he momentarily takes his eyes away from the road to look over at my expression. “So to satisfy my curiosity….I followed,” he shrugs, like what he said was a perfectly good explanation. It may be the truth, but unfortunately for me, he isn’t giving much away.

  “Okay, so that explains how you got there, but doesn’t explain why you stayed.”

  He doesn’t get a chance to answer, because just as we pull onto Charleston Blvd, he reaches into the breast pocket of his jacket to answer his phone. It must have been on vibrate. “Yes? What’s wrong? Did she take her medication? Ok….yes….I’m ten minutes away. I’ll be right there.” His brows furrow, his forearms tensing as he grips the steering wheel.

  “We need to make a detour.” Taking a left onto Town Center, he heads in the opposite direction even before I can object. His tone seems short, even frantic maybe. I just hope everything’s okay.

  ~~~~~

  The driveway is lined with perfectly groomed bushes, trees, and lights that sprinkle the shrubbery, making the house look magnificent. Parking to the left, he rushes out of the car and within seconds is opening my door. Taking my hand in his, I feel the momentum from his muscles as he lifts me from the seat. Flushed against him, my eyes are fixed on his collarbone; still unable to meet his gaze. Thankfully, he never releases his grip, giving me the connection I crave as he ushers me towards the house.

  Stopping at the front door, Alex turns, “It’s because you’re…different.” My heart stops. Is he finally answering my question?

  Before I can even speak Alex pulls me through an entry way to a place that can hardly be called a home; more like a work of art. “Where are we?” I ask, glancing around. He doesn’t answer. Passing by exquisite abstract paintings in burgundy, plum and cream, with delicate pottery framing the walls, the elegance of this home is truly understated.

  Walking through the foyer I’m startled by a woman’s voice yelling in the distance. Because the sound ricochet’s through the spacious rooms, it’s hard to tell where it’s coming from and I can only follow his lead.

  “No, I don’t want to take them!” her voice trembles with fear.

  “Please, Mrs. James. You have to take your medicine,” begs another voice, echoing in the distance.

  Pulled towards the yelling, we pass by a stark white sitting room with even more burgundy paintings and I’m immediately mesmerized by the vastness of this place. As confused as I am, I’m in awe.

  “Nana?” he calls into the distance.

  A woman’s voice replies, “We’re in here, Mr. James.”

  As we enter the large room, which I assume are the guest quarters, there is an elderly woman sitting in a recliner that looks to be just as old as she is, tattered in all the right places. Not trying to compete with the rest of the home, the furnishings match the woman sitting before me. Aged and definitely lived in. With her arms crossed and a frown on her face, she reminds me of a disobedient child. Another woman, who appears to be in her early forties, hovers next to her in a protective stance.

  “Thank you for coming home, Mr. James. She’s having one of those nights. She just won’t take her medicine.” Looking at the elderly woman, she playfully shakes her head, “Will you, Miss Molly?”

  Releasing my hand, he travels to kneel next to the recliner. “Nana, look at me,” he demands. She lowers her head leisurely to meet his gaze. “You need to take your medicine.” She continues to stare at him without acknowledging his request. “Nana, you need to cooperate! Can you do that for me?” Urgency fills each word as he searches her face for a sign.

  Watching him with her is sweet. He’s very assertive, yet incredibly gentle. I know I’m prying, but I can’t turn away. Past the frailness and tattered surroundings, I finally see her face and see her crystal blue eyes. His eyes. This must be his grandmother.

  The elderly woman stares at her grandson as she relinquishes the dark, letting the happiness return to her face. Her eyes no longer glossy and dazed are now fixed on the beautiful man kneeling before her. Lifting her hands, she cups both sides of his face. “Alexander, my boy!” she places a small kiss on his forehead. “Where
have you been? Are you hungry? Do you want me to make you a peanut butter and banana sandwich?” Peanut butter and banana? Thanks Grandma! You just gave me something new to ask him.

  “Hi Nana,” he smiles childlike at her, placing his hand on hers. She is so tiny and feeble compared to him, making me yearn to help her. He turns his face, kissing the palm of her hand, before answering. “No, you don’t have to make me anything. I’m fine.”

  “Why do you look sad?” She traces his frown lines with her index finger, barely able to hold up her hand.

  “I’ve just missed you, Nana. Now take your medicine, so I can help you to bed.”

  She hesitates, but after a few moments she resigns to her fate. Taking the pills from the woman lingering nearby, he places them in his grandmother’s mouth. Grabbing the cup from the side table, he assists her with drinking two small gulps of water and wipes away the escaped droplets from her chin with his thumb. A small smile appears on her lips and Alex doesn’t hesitate to return the reassuring gesture before reaching down to help her stand.

  With a glance in my direction, her face brightens before asking, “Who is this?”

  “This is Ms. Elyssa Hart.” Smiling, I raise my hand in a small waive. Even with her age, her bright blue eyes still glow with such life and vigor. Gripping her arm tight, he continues helping her to her feet.

  “She’s pretty, Alexander!” He smiles and nods. “Is this your girlfriend?”

  “You’re right Nana, she is beautiful.” His eyes meet mine, but for just a moment, before returning his attention to her. “Now let’s get you to bed, okay?” Growing impatient, he lifts her into his arms and carries her into the adjoining room.

  My only companion smiles at his gratifying gesture before retreating towards another bedroom down the hallway. “Goodnight, Ms. Hart,” she yawns, before reaching her door.