A Stallion Dream

by Deborah Fletcher Mello

  “Thank goodness!” Katrina exclaimed.

  “I plan to do whatever it takes to make sure he can’t ever hurt London ever again,” Collin stated.

  Matthew slapped his son against his back. “I’m glad everything ended well. You and London had us worried for a minute.”

  “Aunt Vanessa was probably just a bit dramatic when she called. I had everything under control.”

  “Was that before you threw your first punch at Wells or after?”

  “That son of a bitch had London by the throat! He should be glad all I did was throw a punch!” Collin shook his head. “I need to find London. I need to make sure she’s okay.”

  “She’s still at the hospital,” Katrina noted. “They just wanted to run some tests before they released her. And watch your mouth, please! You still are not that grown to be cussing around me,” she admonished.

  Collin kissed her cheek and shook his father’s hand. “Thank you,” he said, meeting his father’s stare evenly. “I truly appreciate you both.”

  “You know we’re always here if you need us,” Matthew said.

  Collin smiled. “Yes, sir. And I trust it with every fiber of my being.”

  * * *

  When London was finally released from the hospital, the doctor sending her home with prescriptions for pain pills, a muscle relaxant and a sedative to help her sleep, Collin was right there to take her home.

  He held her hand as they exited the medical center, helping her to his car. When she was seated comfortably in the passenger seat of his new Mercedes, he paused, leaning to kiss her cheek and squeeze her hand.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked.

  London smiled. “I’m really good. I just want to go home. I want to crawl into bed and fall asleep dreaming about you.”

  Collin grinned. “A Stallion dream, huh?”

  “The best kind!”

  As he maneuvered the car toward her apartment, he gave her a quick update, telling her what had happened at the station and what they knew about the charges that would be pressed against Victor Wells.

  “Let’s not talk about him anymore. We have better things to focus on. I have a dream, too, and I’m hoping you’ll want to be a part of it,” she said.

  As he drove, he listened, London giving him an update on her intentions and the new business she envisioned. When she finished, she looked anxiously toward him for his opinion.

  “I think it’s a brilliant idea,” he finally said, “but it’s going to have to wait until we get back.”

  “Get back? From where?”

  “Spain.”

  “We’re going to Spain?”

  “Yes. We’re flying to Spain on a private jet. We’ll spend a week acting like tourists and at some point during our trip, I’m going to ask you to be my wife.”

  “Your wife?”

  “Mrs. Collin Stallion! The first, the last and the only.” He shot her a quick look. “You good with that?”

  London grinned. “For now!” And then she kissed him, every one of her Stallion dreams having come true!

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from Love for All Time by Kianna Alexander.

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  Love for All Time

  by Kianna Alexander

  Chapter 1

  “Do we have to film this scene today?” Sitting in the back of the chauffeur-driven sedan, Sierra Dandridge looked hopefully toward the passenger seat.

  Up front, Jazmin shook her head. “I don’t even know why you asked me that, girl.” Having often said she didn’t like being chauffeured around, she always sat up front.

  Sierra sighed at the inevitable response. Me, either. “It was worth a shot.”

  Jazmin chuckled. “No, it wasn’t.” She turned around to look her way. “You know I sympathize with you, as a friend. But as a producer of the show, I’m gonna need you to get it together.”

  Rolling her eyes, Sierra flopped against the leather seat. “I know, I know.” It wasn’t as if she disliked her role on the new drama series The Shores. Even though the show had cast her to play “to type,” and she hated being pigeonholed, she still enjoyed the role. As filming locations went, though, the island of Sapphire Shores was about as dull as it could get. “I guess we may as well get it over with.”

  “Don’t worry. This is your last scene with Mia for at least a few days or so.”

  “I’ll take whatever break from her you can give me.”

  “I know you and Mia aren’t exactly close,” Jazmin quipped. “But she’s your colleague. I expect you two to keep it professional.”

  Rolling her eyes at the mention of that name, Sierra nodded. “Always. I never mess around when it comes to my coins. But I can’t speak for Mia.”

  Mia Leigh, the lead actress on The Shores, had become the bane of her existence. This season’s script had Sierra and Mia cast as “frenemies,” complete with the much younger Mia being slick at the mouth with Sierra. That would be fine with Sierra, if only Mia could keep that drama on the set. Petty as she was, Ms. Leigh seemed to have a real-life vendetta against Sierra.

  “If she wants to keep this job, she’ll get her attitude together,” Jazmin declared. “Casting isn’t my department, but I won’t hesitate to go to the higher-ups if Mia insists on being the problem child.”

  Sierra reached into her bag, taking out her compact. She looked at her reflection, making sure the makeup artist’s work remained intact. After running a brush through her hair and tucking it and the compact away, she turned her attention back to the passing scenery.

  Despite the island’s total lack of nightlife or entertainment, it was one of the most beautiful places she’d ever worked, in terms of scenery. The day was a bit overcast, but sunlight peeked through the clouds to sparkle on the crystal surface of the Atlantic. The picturesque scene reminded her of when she’d filmed High Treason off the coast of Maine. She hoped the nice weather would hold, at least until she got back to her hotel. It was a mid-September Monday, and in the few weeks she’d been on the island, she’d noticed how quickly the weather seemed to change.

  The car slowed to go over a series of speed bumps leading into the Tracemore Plaza area. As the vehicle rounded the traffic circle and moved toward an empty space in the parking lot, she could see other members of the show’s cast and crew gathered outside the entrance to Della’s Deli. The sandwich shop, one o
f their most used filming locations, served great food and had a lovely atmosphere. Although Mia’s attitude ruins it every time. She rolled her eyes.

  The driver parked the car and walked around to open Sierra’s door. Jazmin, ever the girl-next-door, saw herself out of the passenger seat as the driver opened the back door and helped Sierra to her feet. Slinging her purse over her shoulder, she drew in a deep breath of the salty air.

  She followed Jazmin toward the entrance to the deli. As her friend donned her headset and began conversing with the crew, Sierra cut through the gaggle of people, waving and acknowledging many of them, but choosing not to engage Mia. Once she made her way through, she waited by the glass doors for her cue. Leaning against the exterior wall, she contented herself with watching the camerawoman, boom operator and lighting tech ready their equipment for the scene they were about to film. Watching the cast and crew buzzing around, preparing to shoot a scene, always filled her with a sense of anticipation. She loved what she did, loved bringing each character she portrayed to life in her own special way. Each scene she filmed gave her a new opportunity to do what she loved most. A smile touched her lips.

  The smile quickly faded as she noticed Mia strutting her way. She couldn’t ever remember having seen Mia just...walk. She always strutted, much like a peacock with its colors on full display. Tall and lithe, the fair-skinned, dark-eyed twentysomething was runway beautiful. That made sense; she’d parlayed her background in modeling high fashion into an acting career. She was dressed to the nines, though some of the credit for that went to the wardrobe department. Her bright red handbag stood out in contrast to her muted royal blue romper. Her close-cropped black hair, sprayed and coiffed to perfection, barely moved as she approached.

  Mia’s lips spread into a plastic smile that showed most of her teeth. “Hey, Sierra.”

  “Hello, Mia.” She’d spoken to her, and hoped that would be the end of their interaction.

  To her chagrin, Mia continued. “So, are you ready for this scene? The script says we’re supposed to be arguing today.”

  What kind of silly question is that? What, does she think I just roll up to the set without reading the damn script? Gathering her patience, she nodded. “I know, and yes, I’m ready.”

  “Arguing with you isn’t that hard for me.” She looked off to the side in a dramatic fashion. “Since I don’t really like you that much.”

  She sighed. “And why is that, Mia?”

  Mia’s wayward gaze returned to Sierra’s face. “You’re a fading flower that refuses to acknowledge the new blossoms in the garden.” She reached up to adjust a tendril of hair by her ear.

  Sierra tipped her head to one side, offering a cold smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Mia, you’re an intelligent girl. You even turn a decent metaphor. But there are a lot of things about this industry that you just don’t know.”

  Folding her arms over her chest, Mia snapped, “So what? I’m young, I’ve got talent and determination, and that’s all I need.”

  “If only that were true.” Sierra had been in the game long enough to know the kinds of pitfalls that awaited budding actresses. She’s going to need more than her looks and her stubbornness if she really wants to make it. In any other case, she’d be reaching out to mentor a young actress just starting out in the business. But it was clear Mia was more interested in being catty than in learning from someone more experienced.

  Jazmin walked over then. Taking a moment to look from one to the other, she paused, then stood between them. Her expression said she sensed the tension hanging in the air. “Everything okay over here, ladies? We’re getting ready to start the filming.”

  Sierra nodded tightly, because she was eager to get through the scene and away from the “fatal blossom.”

  “Oh, everything’s fine between us,” Mia trilled. “My mother taught me to always respect my elders.” On the heels of her declaration, she turned and strutted away.

  A deep sigh left Sierra’s lips.

  Jazmin touched her shoulder. “Remember your promise, Sierra.”

  “Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten. I’m going to keep it professional, whether she does or not.” Like she’d said before, Sierra never messed around when it came to her money. She loved her role on the show, and she intended to keep this job going for as long as she could.

  And in spite of Mia’s funky attitude, she wasn’t about to let a naive, cocky little upstart interfere with her earning potential.

  Drawing a deep breath, she went to take her mark for the start of the scene. It called for her to be standing next to Mia, near the door of the deli. Ignoring Mia’s smug expression, she waited.

  When the cameras and lights turned her way, she came alive.

  * * *

  With a cup of coffee in hand, Campbell Monroe reclined against the cushioned backrest of the bench. He was sitting in a booth at Della’s, enjoying a late lunch. It had been past two when he’d finally left the office and made the quick drive to the restaurant. Now, as the three o’clock hour neared, he was capping off his lunch with a cup of coffee and a slice of Della’s famous apple crumb cake.

  He figured the late lunch would make the perfect segue into his next meeting. A client had requested to meet him here, to discuss the possibility of purchasing a condominium. He’d told the woman it would take some work to secure a unit, and he’d meant it. Since Devon Franklin had opened his newly built studio about two months ago, and started filming his show The Shores almost immediately after, Sapphire Shores had seen a large influx in population. The show’s talent, crew and studio employees had moved onto the island, mixing with the already robust crowd of tourists, to create a perfect storm of growth. Since Monroe Holdings, Incorporated, the real estate empire started by Campbell’s parents, owned most of the properties on the island, business was brisker than ever.

  He pushed away the ceramic plate, which now held only crumbs as evidence of the cake he’d devoured. One of Della’s staff members dutifully whisked the plate away, just as he saw the lady he was to meet with entering. She was older than him, in her mid-to upper fifties, he guessed, and she moved with an air of certainty and grace.

  Campbell stood as she approached the booth, extending his hand to her. “Mrs. Fairbanks. Lovely to see you.”

  She nodded, shook his head. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Monroe.”

  He gestured to the bench across the table from him. “Please, have a seat. Let’s talk about what you’re looking for.”

  She nodded and slipped into the seat.

  He sat once she was settled. “Would you like anything before we get started? A beverage? Maybe some of Della’s apple crumb cake?”

  She shook her head. “No, thanks.” Pushing her gold, wire-rimmed glasses up on the bridge of her nose, she fixed her gaze on him. “I’m looking for a nice, low-maintenance place I can use as a vacation retreat during the colder months. Winters are brutal up in Philadelphia, and I’d love to have a place I can escape to before the snow hits.”

  “Sounds reasonable. We’ve had an influx of folks coming onto the island recently, so you’ll need a healthy budget in order to secure a unit at this point.” He scratched his chin, waiting. He’d been property manager at MHI for over a decade now, and he never used a hard sell. He simply listened to his clients and tried to meet their needs.

  She quoted a number. “Will that be enough?”

  He smiled. “Certainly. I have just the place in mind for you.” With her generous budget, she’d have her pick of some of the choicest units in Cape Glenn or Shoreside Manor, the two most upscale developments on the island. “You’ll have a lot of flexibility with that.”

  “Great. I figured units would be hard to come by, what with the show filming here and all that.”

  His brow hitched. “So, you know about The Shores?”

  She nodded, her expression brightening. “Sure do. I love that
show.” She looked wistful for a moment. “My late husband was always on me about watching the soaps, but I never did give them up. I love a messy plot.”

  He chuckled, shaking his head. “From what I heard, messy plot is at the heart of the show.”

  “You don’t watch it?”

  “No. Can’t say I have much free time these days.” Since his little sister, Hadley, had married actor-turned-producer-and-studio-head Devon Franklin, she’d been pulling a lot fewer hours at the office. That meant that the pile of work he often left for her went unfinished, unless he did it himself. Her absence had forced him to take on more of the workload than he was accustomed to.

  “To be honest—” she lowered her voice to a whisper “—that’s why I wanted to meet you at Della’s. It says on the website that the show films here sometimes, and I’m hoping to catch a bit of the action while I’m here.”

  Amused, he nodded. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll luck out.” He’d seen the headlines in the local paper, and the reviews comparing the show to the old nighttime soaps like Knot’s Landing. While his mother had been a fan of those shows, he didn’t really remember much about them. So far, the only compelling reason he saw to watch was Sierra.

  “I hope so.” His client glanced around, then pointed to the wall mural depicting an undersea scene. “I recognize that wall. I’ve seen it on the show.”

  He thought it better to steer the conversation back to her search for property. “So, how long will you be in town?”

  “About another week. I’m staying with my son and his wife over in Wilmington.”

  “Great. Then we’ll need to schedule a time that’s good for you to tour a few units, and...”

  He stopped midsentence as a menagerie of cameras, flashing lights and bodies burst through the door into the deli’s interior. Knowing right away what was up, he shook his head. Looks like Mrs. Fairbanks is getting her wish.