Zenith Falling (Zenith Trilogy, #1)

by Leanne Davis

  The room around them was consumed with silence. Heads bobbed back and forth between Nick and her, but she didn’t look around. She only stared at Nick. She didn’t fidget. She didn’t look down. She stood tall, with her shoulders back, and her voice sure. Her gaze was direct.

  Nick took all this in as he slid his chair back and slowly stood up. “You seem pretty sure of yourself.”

  She smiled. “I am. For once. About you. Nice change, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” he said quietly. “I don’t want you to quit.”

  “Is that what most interests you about this conversation?”

  “No, that’s what I’m most comfortable believing.”

  “Believe in me. You always have, even when no one else did. Don’t stop now.”

  “You were waiting all this time for this?” he asked, holding the paper.

  “Partly. The other, I was adjusting to myself. As you suggested.”

  “Did it work?”

  She nodded, her eyes fastened on his. “It’s working.”

  “Our problems weren’t just Rob. Our ages, our styles, my occupation, my lifestyle, everything that was me and isn’t you, all of that hasn’t changed.”

  “No, I changed. Only… you never once asked me to. That’s where I went wrong. I pictured I had to change in order for someone like you to love me. But… I never had to change a thing about me, did I? Other than divorcing Rob, you never asked me to change one damn thing about myself. I’m sorry it took me so long to truly believe you meant that. You liked me just exactly as I was, didn’t you? Blue hair and all.”

  His eyes sparked. “Yeah, blue hair and all. Speaking of that, why is it back?” He waved his hand to her hair, currently braided around her head and streaked in the same shade of blue she had when he first met her.

  She smiled. “Because I like it. And I forgot that I liked it. And I realized I can have it… and I can have you too. So you might have to get used to the fact that I sometimes have strangely colored hair. And in light of everything else, those little differences are the easy part.”

  He looked her in the eye, but she still didn’t waver.

  “What’s the hard part?” he asked finally.

  “Living together for the rest of our lives.”

  “That would imply we were together.”

  “No, it would imply we were married.”

  “You just got divorced.”

  “Well, we’re already halfway there then, aren’t we?”

  “How do you know how I feel?”

  “Because you’ve always loved me. I just couldn’t let you.”

  “Where is all this confidence coming from?”

  “You, Nick. It comes from you.”

  He stared at her. His expression was totally blank. His blue eyes hard as ice as he narrowed them on her. He suddenly turned towards their captive audience. “This meeting is done,” he said, briskly. No one said anything, but got up and quickly gathered their things. They all shuffled out, smiling to themselves.

  Nick took her hand, pulling her down the hall to his office, shutting the door and locking it behind him, while ignoring Bev’s smug expression of delight.

  He shoved her away from him and crossed his arms over his chest. “You couldn’t have waited until we were alone?”

  “No. I couldn’t wait. I waited as long as I could.”

  “When did you decide all this?”

  “The day after the awards ceremony. I told Rob I wanted a divorce before I came to see you.”

  “Why didn’t you just tell me that?”

  “Because you weren’t ready to hear it yet. Or to believe me yet.”

  “So you thought leaving me was better?”

  “Not better. Just necessary. Clean break, closure. You were right. I needed to figure it out. Set it all in motion.”

  She stepped closer to him and tugged his hand so he had to uncross his arms. She pulled his hands to her waist. He finally brought her forward, against him. He cupped her face in his hands. “You can’t have any idea what I’ve been through.”

  “I can. I just wanted it to be us. For real. Forever.”

  “You mean all this?” he asked. She’d never seen Nick unsure before. She put her hands over his and looked into his eyes.

  “I’m sure. I’m not going to let the fact that I’m a lousy dinner date stop me from being happy with you.”

  He smiled, and her heart lifted. “You aren’t that lousy of a dinner date. Just in front of other people.”

  “And you can live with that?”

  “I love that. I love you. Everything you think I shouldn’t love about you, I do. I did from the start. Especially this.” His finger caressed the stud in her lip.

  “This? Why?”

  “Because your tongue always plays with it when you’re nervous. And you’re nervous a lot. And it makes me think of things I’d like to do with that tongue.”

  She raised her eyes up to his. “You’re really okay with me being… me?”

  He dropped his forehead onto hers. “Jesus, Joelle, could I be any clearer? I love you. I have loved you from the beginning. You are just… Joelle to me. I don’t care what you wear. I don’t care what anyone else thinks of us. And I sure as fuck have never cared if you are what other people expect from you as my wife. I only care that you become my wife. I don’t care what color your hair is and I don’t care if you add metal and ink to every inch of your body. Just so long as you are with me. Just so long as every night, you come home to me. And every inch of that metal and ink is mine to love.”

  “Can you give me awhile?”

  “For what?” he asked, his smile wavering.

  “It takes a lot of sessions to get one of these things removed,” she said pulling up her sleeve to reveal the scabs covering her wrist.

  He took her wrist and frowned at her as his fingers lightly caressed the RJW tattoo and the red, blistered skin. “It’s lighter.”

  “I’m getting it removed.”

  He rubbed her wrist, with the gentleness she knew to expect from him. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “I know. That’s why I’m doing it.”

  He lifted her up, and brought her against him, kissing her long and deep and full on the mouth. “Don’t ever walk or run or even glance out of my life again.”

  She smiled. “Does that mean you’ll marry me?”

  “If you’ll promise to color your hair every color, but blonde; don’t ever go blonde again.”

  She nodded and laughed as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I can promise you that. I am finally promising you everything.”

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for reading!

  I would be so grateful if you took a few moments to leave a review of Zenith Falling. Reviews are so helpful to any author… many readers are surprised how appreciative most authors are for these efforts.

  If you enjoyed, Zenith Falling, then read on for chapter one of the second book in The Zenith Trilogy: Zenith Rising, featuring Spencer Mattox and Erica Heathersby to be released on January 31, 2014.

  Zenith Fulfilled, featuring Rob Williams and Rebecca Randall is the last installment to this trilogy and will be released on February 14, 2014.

  If you would like to keep up on my new releases, please go to my website www.leannedavis.net and sign up for my email distribution list.

  Sincerely,

  Leanne Davis

  www.leannedavis.net

  FB: http://on.fb.me/10Ff8AN

  Twitter: http://bit.ly/13YVlzC

  Read on for a sneak peek of Zenith Rising:

  Zenith Rising

  (Zenith Trilogy, #2)- Release Date: January 31, 2014

  Dr. Erica Heathersby is the last person Spencer Mattox, ex-band member of Zenith, should ever be attracted to. When Erica offers Spencer a job, he resents her for it, because she is successful in her career, her life, and as a person, in ways Spencer believes he can never be. But Erica soon finds her medical practice the target of political
debate, and herself the target of someone's violent desires. Erica turns to Spencer for protection, which develops into a relationship that neither of them is prepared for. Erica knows that in order to keep Spencer from destroying what they have built together, she has to overcome the devastating past he tries to hide. But then again, none of it will matter, if Erica doesn't survive what is fast becoming someone's deadly intentions towards her.

  Chapter One

  Dr. Erica Heathersby walked down the hallway, her black shoes squeaking on the vinyl floor. She stopped before the hospital room door, and knocked before she stepped inside. There were half a dozen people crowded in there, smiling, laughing, chatting, all before her patient’s bed.

  “Thank God, you’re here.”

  Erica smiled at Joelle Lassiter’s strained voice. Her relief to have reinforcements against her husband’s four sisters, and numerous nieces was evident. Erica stepped towards her bed.

  “Let’s see how you’re doing.”

  Erica checked Joelle and updated Joelle’s chart. Everything was right on track. She came to the side of Joelle’s bed, picked up her hand and squeezed it, as her friend then, not just her doctor.

  “The nurse paged me. She said things were getting close. I agree.”

  Joelle looked into Erica’s eyes, the strain, the pain, and the panic were clear. Erica gently squeezed her hand again. “Things look good. I’ll be here from now on out. You can trust me.”

  “Are things really okay?”

  Erica turned. Behind her stood Nick Lassiter, Joelle’s husband, and Erica’s former boyfriend. Not so long ago, they were dating, before Nick met Joelle. After seeing Nick with Joelle, however, Erica dumped Nick because there was no denying what she witnessed: Nick was in love with Joelle. They managed to remain friends because Erica and Joelle took to each other like long lost sisters.

  Nick was a well known, wealthy and powerful CEO of his own corporation, while Joelle was married to a struggling rock star when they met. Eventually, she left her alcoholic, struggling musician husband and found her way to Nick. Now they’d been married for almost two years, and Joelle was in labor with their first child. A child Erica intended to deliver.

  “I’m sure. Things look great. Let’s check how much progress you’ve made.”

  Erica easily switched into doctor mode. Straightening up, she waited patiently as the chatting sisters hugged and kissed Nick before they left. Nick barely noticed them. He was white and scared as he kept staring helplessly at Joelle. She was as small a new mother as Erica had ever dealt with. At less than five feet tall, even at nine months pregnant, she barely took up half the width or length of the bed.

  Erica slipped on gloves with a snap at her wrists.

  “Now you’re going to feel some pressure as I check your dilation,” Erica said, before she examined Joelle. Nick gripped Joelle’s hand. Joelle hardly moved, never so much as whimpered, even as a contraction tightened her stomach. Erica felt the tightening, and nodded. Things were progressing swiftly, but not there yet.

  “You’re at three. Are you ready for an epidural?”

  Joelle nodded, her eyes brightening at the suggestion. Erica smiled. She got that response a lot. She stood up, taking her gloves off.

  There was a knock at the door. Nick went to open it, and was shaking a man’s hand as he entered. Erica turned toward Joelle’s chart to add an update, while ignoring the visitor entering the room. Nick knew a lot of people, and also had a huge family.

  Erica finally noticed the visitor with a start. He was bending over, kissing Joelle on the cheek. After straightening to his considerable height, several inches over Erica’s own five-foot nine, she saw he had broad shoulders that tapered down to a slim waist, with straight, black hair, that fell over his low brow, and accentuated the deep, darkness of his chocolate brown eyes. His skin was a warm brown; he was at least part Latino. He had a strong nose, wide mouth, and prominent, deeply cut cheekbones. Erica’s mouth dropped open. She had to consciously shut it. The guy was seriously hot. Erica looked down quickly before he noticed her staring at him. He was young, smoldering, and very hot. All of which were not her type. Still, who could blame her for looking?

  Mild curiosity sparked in Erica. Who was he? She knew most of Nick’s family and associates from having dated him for over a year. Joelle hardly ever had anyone come visit her. Her family was out of the picture, and she was so shy and quiet, making friends for Joelle came slowly. So who was this man who seemed so friendly with both of them?

  Erica snapped her pen closed, and put it in the pocket of her white lab coat. She adjusted the rim of her glasses, and waited for the stranger and Joelle to quit talking.

  “I’ll leave you to visit. I’ll check back with you in while. I’m going to page the anesthesiologist.”

  Joelle’s eyes grew weary again. She didn’t like being in the hospital, and was even more scared about becoming a new mother. “Are you working tonight?”

  “I am now.”

  “Because of me?”

  “Of course, because of you.”

  “What if it’s all night?”

  “It’s not the first new baby that’s kept me up at night. Relax, everything looks great. I promise you, I’ll be the one to deliver your baby, no matter what.”

  Erica smiled at the relief in Joelle’s face. Joelle had no one else, and trusted very few.

  The hot visitor watched their exchange, while he grinned at her. She frowned. Kind of forward, wasn’t he?

  “I’m pretty sure she doesn’t recognize me,” her hot visitor said, as he looked right into her eyes.

  She scoffed. “Recognize you? I’ve never seen you before in my entire life.” Erica looked up at his dark eyes. She was struck by how beautiful they were: big, dark, long-lashed. Bedroom eyes. She felt a stab of surprising attraction in her gut. Stabbing lust, and she quickly looked away. It annoyed the hell out of her that the strange visitor seemed so amused by her.

  “Erica, it’s Spencer. Spencer Mattox,” Joelle said.

  The name vaguely rang a bell. But Erica was firm she’d never have forgotten a face like his.

  “It’s Spike, Erica. My friend from Zenith. Rob’s best friend.”

  Erica looked up blankly. Dumbfounded. No. This could not be Spike. It simply wasn’t. She knew Spike. She could never forget Spike. She sometimes had nightmares about Spike. Spike was a cartoonish figure, vampirish, scary, gothic. Not this. Not like this man before her.

  “I don’t think she believes you,” Spencer said, smiling easily at Joelle.

  Spike the tall, gaunt freak who wore his hair in a sharp, lethal Mohawk points along his scalp. Spike had even worn makeup at times, which only added to the fearsomeness of all the dark clothes and big combat boots. A set of fangs was all Spike needed to complete his look as a vampire.

  “I’m going by Spencer these days, Doc.”

  “You know who I am?”

  “Of course, I know who you are. Joelle lived with you. I’ve been to your condo.”

  She didn’t like hearing that at all. “You’re really Spike? I’ve met you before?”

  “Yes. Only I go by Spencer now.”

  She opened her mouth, then shut it. Then shook her head. “I don’t know what to say. I couldn’t have recognized you. When did you... quit being Spike?”

  “Awhile ago.”

  “How? Why?”

  Spencer shrugged. “Decided I needed a job for awhile. Time to quit messing around. Spike was that. Messing around. Part of Zenith. Rob and I were having fun, now we’re growing up.”

  Zenith was the band that Joelle’s ex-husband, Rob, was lead singer of, while Spencer, then Spike, played the keyboard. A drummer and guitarist rounded out the group, that nearly destroyed Rob with addiction, and Joelle right along with him. Rob and Spencer had split Zenith up about the time Rob went to rehab and Joelle divorced him and married Nick.

  “Spencer paid the bill for Rob’s rehab. He also paid off debts Rob had with some shady loan sha
rks,” Joelle added as if to explain why Spike suddenly looked so normal.

  Spencer shrugged as if it was no big deal. “I helped him out a bit. That however, required that I get a job. So I had to quit being Spike. Besides, I was getting kinda sick of it.”

  Erica looked at the tall man standing before her. Confused. How could she reconcile the Spike she knew with this man here? It didn’t seem remotely possible. Spike stayed in touch with Joelle after the divorce, and Joelle was living with Erica before she and Nick got together. Spike had even visited her condo. Still, this man could not be him. It was nearly impossible. But the familiarity Joelle and Spencer shared spoke to their long-term friendship. This man before her had to be Spike.

  Erica left the room, so they could catch up. She passed Nick’s family, milling in the waiting room. She paused for a moment to reassure them, before checking in on another patient who came in with early labor. Hours drifted by. Finally, Erica was called by Joelle’s nurse. It was time. Erica walked through the hospital to the elevator, where, stepping in, she paused when she found Spencer already in there, holding a cup of steaming coffee. He looked at her, running his dark eyes over her. She wore blue scrubs, functional black shoes, and her hair was drawn back. His cold eyes almost made her want to step back away from him.

  She stepped in the elevator and pressed Floor 3 for the maternity ward.

  “Guess I was heading back at the right time.”

  Erica turned and looked up at Spencer. He had a low, gravelly voice. “Yes. Looks like I’m about on. Are you staying?”

  “Joelle was feeling a little Lassiter-overwhelmed. She asked me to stay.”

  “Yes. It would help if she had less Lassiters and more people here just for her. And I don’t help much, being her doctor and all. It’s nice of you to come. I didn’t realize you were still in contact.”

  “We’ve been friends a long time. Seen each other through a lot.”

  Erica glanced up at his face. He was so shockingly not Spike, it startled her. He was too handsome now, like this, that she felt nearly tongue-tied next to him, and oddly uncomfortable. The elevator dinged then, the doors opened, and Erica nearly jumped through them, so ill at ease as she was with Spencer. He was someone she didn’t know, but the weird part was she did know him, except he was someone else: Spike. Still that didn’t explain why he made her so nervous or act so flustered. She dealt with hundreds of people in her practice: patients, relatives, friends, spouses. She was never shy or unsure of herself. She was, in fact, confident, and in control, usually the leader in most situations. Except with this man. He soon managed to have her looking away, blushing, and almost stammering.