Queen of His Heart

by Adrianne Byrd

  Side bar, camera two:

  Jalila shrugs. “He’s sweet. I like him a lot. Any woman would be happy to be with him.”

  After three takes of their goodnight kiss, the Queen of Hearts limo took Jalila back to her house. All the while, her mind was spinning about the complicated situation she’d gotten herself into. Her heart told her that Keenan Armstrong was the man for her, but she was determined to fulfill her contractual obligations. She just hoped that in the end she would win the man she really wanted.

  She climbed out of the limo at half past eleven grateful that the camera was leaving her a little privacy. After she entered her front door, she hoped against hope that she was about to embark on her second date for the evening. Heck, it was getting to the point that she couldn’t remember the last time she had had a full eight hours of sleep.

  She took her time going upstairs, not wanting to appear too eager. Slowly, she opened her bedroom door, a smile blooming across her face. But Keenan was not there. She crept farther into the room and then checked the bathroom. As a precaution, mainly because she was experiencing flashbacks, she also peeked into her closet.

  He wasn’t there either.

  Curious, she went back downstairs and opened the back door. Cujo was alone.

  “Humph.” She glanced around. “Have you eaten, boy?”

  Woof!

  “You wouldn’t tell me even if you had.” She ruffled his ears and then led him to the kitchen, where she filled his dinner bowl. Afterward, she glanced around, pouting. When her eyes landed on the cordless phone, she picked it up, but then thought better of it. Maybe, since she’d been the one to leave his bed without waking him up, she needed to go to him.

  Her smile returned as she glanced down at Cujo. “Looks like Mommy is about to take a little road trip.”

  Rushing back upstairs, she showered, oiled down and got dressed—in only a bright red coat and high-heeled pumps. “This oughta rock his world.”

  Woof!

  Jalila laughed and then rushed out of the house. She felt wicked as she slid behind the wheel of her car and drove out to Beverly Hills. The whole time, she pictured his surprised face when he answered the door and she jerked open her coat. As she turned onto Keenan’s vast estate, those familiar butterflies returned and fluttered wildly against her belly. She was so excited and nervous at the same time.

  At the door, she collected herself, pasted on a smile and rang the bell. While waiting, Jalila quickly undid her belt and unbuttoned her coat. She wanted to be ready when he opened the door.

  It took a few minutes, but she finally heard footsteps approach. She smiled in case he was taking a peek through the peephole. The locks disengaged and when the door swept open, Jalila yelled, “Surprise!”

  However, it was Jalila that got the real surprise when the person at the door wasn’t Keenan, but instead his ex-wife, Tenetria.

  Chapter 21

  An unmistakably evil smile slithered across Tenetria’s lips. “I take it that you were expecting someone else?”

  Jalila gaped, struggling to process the situation.

  Tenetria’s gaze slid down Jalila’s body. “Those are nice. Are they real?”

  Remembering that she was exposing her naked body, Jalila jerked her coat close, but she was still unable to find her tongue.

  “I’m sorry, but Keenan is a little busy right now,” Tenetria said. “Seems like he can only handle one woman at time. But I will tell him—after we’re through—that you stopped by.”

  Jalila understood her meaning perfectly. She had just been played. She had blindly let Keenan use and humiliate her.

  ...if he’s part of that crazy Hollywood crowd, I wouldn’t trust him any further than you can physically throw him.

  With a sob, Jalila turned and raced back to the car.

  “Was it something I said?” Tenetria yelled.

  As Jalila jumped behind the wheel, the woman’s deep-throated laughter filled her ears. She started the car and slammed her foot down on the accelerator. Her tires squealed and a cloud of smoke jetted from her tailpipe as she took off down the long, curvy driveway.

  Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. She banged her open hand against the steering wheel. How on earth had she allowed this to happen? She knew how the men in this town operated. She knew the rules of the heart-breaking game.

  Jalila backhanded an overflowing river of tears, temporarily taking her hands off the wheel and swerving into a flower bed and then scraping against a line of sculpted hedges. She jerked the car back on the driveway and spun out on the main road, the back end of her SUV fishtailing for a few seconds. Finally, she sped off into the night.

  Tears continued to pour and blur her vision. What was she thinking? Had she been thinking at all? In the time since she had first caught Keenan in his office with his ex-wife, Jalila had never once asked him about their relationship. She had never sought clarification about whether he was still playing the field or seeking to reconcile with his ex-wife. She hadn’t done anything. Therefore, it was perfectly logical that Keenan had taken her silence as acceptance of his free-loving lifestyle.

  This is what happens when you get caught up.

  She shook her head. “Why does this always happen to me?” she moaned. “Why is it so hard to find a decent man in this damn town?” Not paying attention, Jalila sped past a police car. Blue lights flashed in her rearview mirror. “Oh, c’mon. Give me a break,” she groaned, easing off the accelerator. Taking a deep breath, she pulled over. She wiped at her tears and reached over to the passenger side for her purse, but then realized that she didn’t have it.

  Jalila banged her head back against the headrest. “Just great.”

  Keenan had spent the evening wining and dining two of NBC’s top executives at an exclusive club in downtown L.A. It was a good night. It looked like A.M. Production could possibly have three new shows in the winter lineup. They were all scripted—leaving them enough flexibility to get out of reality television. It had been an all-around good day—first the news from his sister and now this.

  Keenan smiled and loosened up his tie. He was in such a great mood that he wanted to continue the celebration—and he knew just whom he wanted to celebrate with. The mere thought of spending time with Jalila caused his smile to widen and his dick to harden.

  You need a woman in your life—and not just one to warm your bed.

  Keenan swallowed as his sister’s words came back at him. Now that he was alone, he allowed himself to really think about the direction his private life was taking. He would never admit this to Nitara or Keisha, but he had felt bouts of loneliness. It was no big deal. He was human. But since this…what—affair?—that loneliness had disappeared. In fact, every morning Jalila Goodwyn was the first thing on his mind. She danced in and out of his thoughts throughout the day and at night…

  His smile widened. Now, thinking about it, he realized his feelings for Jalila, in the short time that he’d known her, were stronger than he’d felt for any woman. Was it possible that Tenetria had broken his pride and not his heart? Because right now, it felt as if his heart was soaring just thinking about Jalila. At that moment, he knew that there was a real chance that he was falling in love.

  He laughed, probably looking like a crazy man.

  When he arrived at Jalila’s place, he was surprised to see that it looked locked down for the night. When he hopped out the car and rang the doorbell, Cujo went wild, barking and scrambling around.

  Keenan waited. Rang the bell a few more times and then banged on the door. Was she asleep? He stepped back from the front door, glanced around and then up at the roof. “This is getting ridiculous,” he muttered. Despite that, he climbed onto the roof and was thankful to find the bedroom window still unlocked.

  Once Keenan was inside the house, Cujo leaped up and knocked him down onto the floor, where he proceeded to slobber all over him. “Down, boy. Down.” Keenan chuckled. With a bit of a struggle he peeled himself from the floor. “I bet you missed Chips, huh?�
�� He scratched behind the dog’s ear. Earlier, he’d stopped by and retrieved Chips when he knew Jalila and the TV crew were at her job.

  He glanced around the room and then went through the house. “Where’s your mom at, boy?”

  Woof!

  Keenan looked at his watch. It was well past midnight. Shouldn’t she be home? Surely, she and whatever bachelor number she was on weren’t still out on their date? Or were they?

  Suspicion crawled up his neck while an unsettling anxiousness fluttered in his gut. He glanced down at Cujo, wishing he could interrogate the dog for some answers. Then he laughed at himself. Maybe they were just running late. He’d just wait around a little while longer.

  An hour later, Keenan’s tune had changed. He scooped his BlackBerry out of his pocket and started to call Nitara. After punching in her number, he thought about how his call would look to his business partner. Nitara would undoubtedly needle him about his interest in Jalila’s whereabouts. He shoved his phone back into his pocket and stormed out the house.

  Minutes later, he arrived at Mack Media. Jesse was off for the night, and Lamar seemed to welcome some company.

  “I just came by to see how things are going,” Keenan said. “Did you get the day’s package for Queen of Hearts?”

  “It was dropped off an hour ago. But I’m working on some other dailies for Dreamworks. Got to get those in the can and ready for pick up by six.”

  Keenan’s heart dropped, even though he nodded his understanding. “Mind if I use one of the stations to take a look?”

  Lamar lifted a shoulder in a casual shrug. “It’s your show, man.”

  Keenan sat in Jesse’s usual workstation and, with a little help from Lamar, inserted the digital disc from camera number two. He tried to prepare himself mentally for seeing another man schmoozing and canoodling with his…what—his girlfriend? Lover? Woman?

  Yes, your woman, Keenan’s heart screamed. He pushed in the disc and watched. From the moment the footage started, Keenan experienced mild palpitations. Jalila’s date, Evander, was a handsome and physically fit guy whom Keenan hated immediately. The way he smiled at Jalila was both primitive and sensual at the same time. What was worse, Jalila seemed to respond in kind.

  Keenan leaned closer to the screen, convinced that he was witnessing some type of spark between the two and he didn’t like it one bit. When Evander took off Jalila’s sweater, Keenan’s good humor returned. Evander and the cameraman zoomed in on the rash of hickies across Jalila’s back.

  When Keenan chuckled, Lamar glanced up. “What’s so funny?”

  “Aww, it’s nothing.” Keenan waved him off and then returned his attention to the screen. Jalila was adorable trying to lie her way through a reasonable explanation, but judging by Mr. Smooth’s face, he wasn’t buying it.

  However, Keenan’s amusement soon disappeared as the date continued. It was torturous watching Evander and Jalila laugh and talk over a glass of wine before a crackling fire. This Evander jerk was clearly a pro in subtle seduction. Keenan lost count of the times Jalila either blushed or laughed at the man’s cheesy jokes. Her long winding moans at the dinner table shocked and then angered him. But that was nothing compared to the romantic cheek-to-cheek dancing to some incredibly slow jazz that followed.

  Keenan stopped the footage and stared at the frozen image on the screen. His mind wasn’t playing tricks on him. There was a spark of something between Evander and Jalila. It was undeniable.

  His heart squeezed. It was time to end this. At this point, killing the show would cost him a fortune. Well, not only him, but Nitara and the network. But wasn’t he undermining the show from the start?

  “Are you all right, man?” Lamar asked, cutting into his thoughts.

  Keenan blinked. “Uh, yeah.” He ejected the digital disc and returned it to the production package. “You know what? I’m just going to head on out. I forgot I’m going to have an early morning myself. I’ll catch up with you later.” He and Lamar quickly exchanged fist bumps before he rushed out the door—heartbroken.

  It was bad enough that Jalila didn’t have her purse or her driver’s license, but it was completely humiliating to be arrested for reckless driving—seventy in a thirty-five—zone and to have to try to explain to the female cop why she was naked under her coat.

  She had never been arrested before, and her first trip into a holding cell wasn’t too bad. Of course this was Beverly Hills—it was like being locked up in a nice hotel. Still, the officers were in no hurry to let her have her one phone call. It didn’t matter because two hours later she still didn’t know who she should call—her parents or one of her best friends. Any of them would come and get her. It was just the whole explaining the how and why of her arrest that complicated things.

  Her parents would lecture, plus she didn’t know whether she could get the whole naked thing past her mother.

  Her friends would sympathize and might possibly throw her a pity party, which she needed, but there was no telling whether their money was funny or not so that they might not be able to bail her out. In the end, the decision was taken from her when Martina and Fantasia surprisingly just popped up and saved her from her nightmare.

  “How did you guys know I was here?” she asked, after exchanging a brief hug with them.

  Martina shrugged. “We got a call that said you were in trouble so we came.”

  Jalila frowned. “Who from?”

  “Does it matter?” Fantasia said. “C’mon, let’s get out of here.”

  Too tired to argue, Jalila climbed into the backseat of Martina’s red convertible. During the ride back to her place, her girls tried to wheedle what had happened out of her, but Jalila was clearly so close to tears that they dropped the subject. Once they made it back to her place, Jalila raced up to her bedroom and quickly pulled on a pair of cotton pajamas and then crawled into bed. She just wanted to put this whole night behind her.

  But she knew that she would have no such luck. When Jalila tried closing her eyes, Tenetria’s evil smile stared back at her and her cackle filled her ears. It was time to give up and face facts, she told herself as fat tears dripped onto her pillow. There was no such thing as a Prince Charming for her—and she would never have her happily ever after.

  Never.

  Chapter 22

  It wasn’t too late, Keenan decided. What he’d witnessed tonight between Jalila and Evander wasn’t necessarily the nail in the coffin of their relationship. Just because Jalila wasn’t home didn’t mean that she was off somewhere with Mr. I-Can-Cook. The best way to handle this whole situation was to pull the plug on the show. Of course that would mean pissing off a lot of people at the network, not to mention Nitara, but he could stand the heat if it meant that he would be able to keep the woman he loved.

  Loved. He chuckled. It was the truth. He did love her. That information alone would—or should—get Nitara off his back. He just hoped that Jalila felt the same way.

  Again, the image of her dancing in Evander’s arms flashed in his mind, but he quickly dismissed it. Jalila was just putting on a show for the cameras, he told himself—or rather, he tried to convince himself. With his mind set, Keenan drove home. Even as he put the key in the front-door lock, his mind ran through different scenarios on how he would deliver the news to Nitara, and—more important—how Jalila would take the news. Would she think that he was being presumptuous or would she be as thrilled as he hoped?

  Memories of their previous night together soon flooded his mind. The way she’d felt, quaked, tasted and even the way she’d called out his name. He smiled with renewed confidence. Yeah, she’ll be thrilled.

  Woof! Woof! Chips shot toward him and then jumped up on his hind legs to plant his forepaws on the center of his chest.

  “Hello, boy! Sorry I’m late.” He rubbed Chips behind his ears.

  Woof! Woof!

  Keenan laughed. “How would you like to have a brother soon?” he asked good-naturedly.

  Woof! Woof!

&nbs
p; “It’s nothing definite yet, but keep your paws crossed.” He winked and then released an exhausted yawn as he headed up to bed. It was going to be a big day tomorrow, and if could hit the sack within the next twenty minutes, maybe he could squeeze out four solid hours of sleep. As he hit the top landing and started to peel out of his jacket, the faint scent of vanilla wafted under his nose.

  He frowned. He hated the smell of vanilla. It was Tenetria’s signature scent.

  Still frowning, Keenan strolled cautiously down the long hallway. The scent grew stronger. When he reached his closed bedroom door, he stopped. Light was flicking beneath it. “Who’s here, boy?” he asked Chips in a low voice.

  Woof! Woof!

  Whoever it was had to be familiar to Chips or the door would have been busted down and he would have come home to a crime scene. He turned the doorknob and slowly entered the room.

  “Welcome home,” Tenetria said, lying back in his huge bed. She wore a cotton-candy-colored bra-and-panties set that lifted and accentuated her every curve.

  Keenan’s jaw hardened. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  Unperturbed, Tenetria kept her sensual smile in place. “Now is that anyway to greet a half-naked woman lying in your bed?”

  “It’s exactly the way to greet an unwelcome guest,” Keenan said, tossing his jacket on a nearby chair. He leaned against the doorjamb. “Get dressed and then get out.”

  “Aww, come on,” she said, purring like Eartha Kitt. “You don’t really mean that.”

  “The hell I don’t. Get dressed.”

  Tenetria’s smile slipped. “Don’t be rude.”

  Keenan flipped on the light switch, ruining her romantic mood. “You can either get dressed or I can throw you out dressed the way you are.”

  “You wouldn’t dare.”

  He arched one brow. “You wanna bet?”