“Apparently, I need your help.” He sighed. “My dream woman is in this room. I just need you all to stand in one spot and be quiet until I find her. If, like I have been led to believe, most of you are incurable romantics, you’ll help me find the love of my life.” He paused. “I think I hurt her last night. I didn’t mean to. Like most men, finding out I had met the one, I panicked and ran out on her.”
A small gasp from the other side of the room gave him direction, and he turned. “I don’t expect her to forgive me right away.” He smiled slightly. “But I do expect her to forgive me eventually.”
“I know I would,” someone called from the crowd.
“I’m sorry I made you cry, love.” He slipped into his American accent and reduced his voice to a whisper. “I’ll do anything to make it right again. I’ll do anything for another chance with you. I realize our meeting has been somewhat like a bad fairy tale, and we only have until midnight tonight. But…. Please give me more time. One more night, give me just one more and I’ll show you I can love you for the rest of our lives.”
A cheer went up at his words. He didn’t want that. He wanted to hear Candy say she would give him another chance. He hoped she would allow him to make things up to her, to prove to her what she meant to him. She would always be the most important thing to him. It had always been her. He had just never dared to dream she existed in real life. The crowd parted as he neared her, having figured out who he wanted. She sat at one of the tables, hands over her face, sobbing her heart out.
She lifted her head and stared up at him through tear-filled eyes. “Why are you doing this? Haven’t you had enough fun? Do you really have to embarrass me in front of these people?”
He knelt before her. “I do have a reason for wanting to do this here.” Reaching out, he tucked a lock of golden hair behind her ear and brushed the tears away with his thumbs. “I wanted to prove I’m serious. I have no intention of backing out of this.” He leaned forward and cupped her cheeks. “You have hundreds of witnesses and the press here.” He dipped his head to meet her lowered gaze.
“I would gladly die before intentionally hurting you. We don’t know each other, that much is true. However, I know my heart.” He didn’t tell her he would love her forever because his species knew their mates the moment they had sex with them the first time. Such information was something better left for later—after he’d made love to her a dozen or more times—after she’d agreed to be his wife.
“My heart knows you. It tells me you’re the one. I didn’t hesitate to quit show business because it has never been, and never will be, my first love.”
She licked her lips, still trying not to meet his gaze, obviously fearing to believe him, and he understood why. The last thing she would want was for him to use her as some sort of publicity stunt and humiliate her.
“What would that be?” she asked. “What is your first love?” She hadn’t asked who, but what.
“I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone that I have a weakness, a special love, for someone whom, I thought for a while, only existed in my imagination—a woman with long, golden hair and dark-blue eyes. A woman named Candy.” Grasping her chin, he forced her to meet his eyes. “My first love is you. It was always you.”
Candy jerked free from his embrace, rested her elbows on the table, and sobbed quietly into her hands. She didn’t believe it. But, she had to. Jared had said it in front of so many people. Still, a part of her suspected he’d staged this as some sort of publicity stunt for a new movie, maybe a romantic comedy. Or maybe his newest movie had him falling in love with a curvy woman who had a wonderful personality. He would overlook her imperfections because she was so easy to love.
She snorted. Right. Like that will ever happen.
Things weren’t supposed to go this way. They weren’t supposed to get everything they ever wanted. They were only supposed to get twenty-four hours with each other. Why did he insist on doing this to her?
“Why are you doing this?” she asked between hiccups.
“Because, as impossible as it might sound, I love you, Candy. I have always loved you, and you’ll soon understand why. I want to grow old with you.” He took her hands in his. “I’m begging now. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Please, give me one more night to prove how much I need you.”
Stifling her tears, she finally met his gaze. “No.”
A low roar rose at her answer.
“What a moron!” a shrill voice rang through the multitude of fans. “She said no. Do you believe it? She said no!”
Strangers glared at her as though she deserved their disdain. She ignored them.
Jared’s face fell, and his shoulders drooped as though he’d just lost his best friend. His reaction surprised her. Sure, he was a great actor, but he didn’t appear to be acting this time. And he had seemed so sincere when he’d asked her to give him one more night.
After what he’d done to her the night before, he deserved it, didn’t he? She had sobbed for hours over what might have been. Had felt less than human when he’d rejected her and left her alone in that cold, sterile room. How could she forgive him?
Closing her eyes, Candy sighed. She couldn’t forgive him on a whim. He would have to work for it. She also couldn’t leave him hanging and feared for her safety if she didn’t agree to give him what he asked for, right that moment. Every female fan in the room might grow rabid if she didn’t give their favorite actor another shot at happiness.
“I won’t give you one more night like last night, Jared. Not now.” She pulled free and swiped her eyes with the backs of her hands. “But I will give you another chance.” Hoping she wouldn’t regret her decision, she added, “It’s going to take a hell of a lot more than another date for you to show me how much I mean to you.”
He moved closer and stared deep into her eyes, his lips twitching at the corners as he obviously came to realize what she meant. “Just how long do you think it will take?”
“Well…. If you do it right, it might just take the rest of our lives.”
~A Note from Tianna~
What woman hasn’t dreamed their movie-star crush will suddenly appear in their life and sweep them off their feet? Does anyone believe that can happen? As an erotic romance author, I’ve probably imagined that scenario more than most—if only from an author’s point of view.
After coming to terms with the fact that I too have a crush on a movie star, I imagined It Was Always You, as the embodiment of those daydreams, night dreams, and possibly wet dreams for each and every one of us. Who doesn’t want their favorite movie stars to suddenly realize they can’t live without us no matter who we are or what we look like on the outside?
I hope you enjoy reading the story as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Tianna
www.tiannaxander.com
Also from Decadent Publishing
www.decadentpublishing.com
Romancing the Author by Kali Willows
Chapter One
You’re beautiful. I know you’re taken, just saying.
The endless barrage of messages from strange men and women in remote places had infested her inbox for months, peppered with communications from an unknown stalker who seemed to hone in on her status as a bestselling author. She peered at the sender’s name on the instant chat. Connor Caine.
An actual old high school acquaintance, Connor, who retained a dry but potent sense of humor, the same as he had in their glory days. He possessed broad, athletic shoulders and abs a girl could scrub her laundry on. Sports magazines featured photos of him tossing footballs—often shirtless—posed to capitalize on his rugged good looks and virile physique.
He had worked hard for the last fifteen years to become a football star and maintained a radiant social media presence since his recruitment in his senior year of high school. His regular upbeat posts and witty repartee had helped lighten her spirits through some of the most dreadful moments in the last ten months of her private life.
A nomadic author on a worldwide tour, Gemma had little time for genuine interactions outside of book signings and release parties. Online communications with people who knew her before the fame, held a sense of comfort and inclusion which had evaded her in her public profile. She hesitated then clicked the reply box, unsure if this would be another bout of antics to make her chuckle.
A trickle of giddiness fluttered over her, and then doubt.
Gemma: LOL, you’re pulling my leg, aren’t you?
His reputation as an online prankster preceded him. His fans hung on every word he typed. Although she had indulged in occasional banter with him, she had thought nothing of it, believing he considered her another among the masses.
Connor: Not at all! I’ve wanted to tell you for years, but never had the courage to say it until now.
Gemma: Come on, you’re kidding, right?
Connor: I’m dead serious.
Gemma: *Blushing* An author rendered speechless? No other words came to her.
Connor: I’ve been scanning over your online pics for years.
Gemma: *Blushing again*
Was he trifling with her? Wouldn’t this very hot, single guy with ebony hair and smoldering brown eyes have better things to do, late on a Friday night? How many women did he send these messages to?
Connor: I know you’re capable of a broader vocabulary. He added a smiley face.
Gemma eyeballed the screen in disbelief. No one was supposed to know about her divorce from her husband of eight years.
“Who will want to buy romance novels from a divorcee, Gemma? Honestly, what would you do without me to maintain your professional image?” When Candace had laid down the law about announcing the split, Gemma hadn’t disputed the logic. After all, her publicist had handled some of the biggest names in romance.
You still there? Another message popped up on the screen.
Gemma bit her lip. Would her old friend Connor participate in a ruse to get her to spill to the media about the break up? Candace had warned her against any admission online—even telling a friend could be her career ender. Fans could not learn about the abusive asshole her husband had turned out to be. But could he be pulling a prank?
Gemma: Why me?
Connor: Why not you? You’re beautiful, intelligent, and sexy.
Gemma: How would you know? We haven’t seen each other in more than a decade? What a dangerous road she trekked.
Connor: Your online pics, Twitter, Facebook, your author site. You’re gorgeous. Your sense of humor, your writing, Gemma, you’re incredible! I remember you from high school. You haven’t changed at all. You have those incredible blue bedroom eyes.
As a recluse recovering from a failed marriage, she felt neither sexy nor gorgeous. Being a cerebral person, physical beauty had never been at the forefront of what she considered her personal attributes, but she couldn’t complain about her genetics either. An author must maintain an online presence and continue to build her fan base, but she never viewed her photos as enticing in any way.
Connor: What are you up to tonight, beautiful? The screen brightened again.
Gemma: Trying to hammer out the next book, with little success. In other words, wasting time on social networks. LOL. Why would she answer? Gemma sucked in a breath. A ravenous urge awakened inside her, and the temptation to prolong the tease coursed through her veins.
Connor: Wanna play?
Gemma: With whom? She snickered.
Connor: Me, your biggest fan.
Playing with Connor bordered on sinful. She struggled with the deep-seated urge to continue this chat, but the potential for betrayal stung her heart. Connor had been a level-headed, decent guy, even in high school. She didn’t sense any threat from him, but Candace had her convinced anyone was capable of treachery. She’d tolerated a profound emotional gap of human connection even before the split with her psychotic ex. Along with being limited by her professional expectations of deadlines and media frenzy, she had fallen prey to a depressive slump with little interest in trying to socialize. Gemma hadn’t reached out to a single living soul all year. Did Connor sense her vulnerability? He had swooped in with compliments satisfying her hungry soul.
Her ex-husband had complained about her late nights writing in her office. The stronger her desire to travel and experience more things, the worse their relationship became. He was bitter and vengeful until they parted on atrocious terms, resulting in a large portion of her royalties awarded to him by the courts provided he not speak publicly about their relationship. If he did, he’d lose every dime. Even though divorce was a matter of public record, few people knew her real name, enabling her to keep her private pain just that.
Gemma: I’m speechless. Thank you.
The necessity to adhere to her publicist’s heeds of caution persevered, but her desire to maintain a connection to someone who was interested in her clung to her like hot glue.
Connor: You’re humble, too. What a turn on.
What was her peculiar draw to continue this conversation? She should end it now and avoid a scandal that might cause financial ruin.
Gemma: I’m a loyal wife but oh so very flattered.
Connor: I respect that
She typed a smiley face.
Connor: We haven’t done anything. It’s only a chat, there’s nothing wrong is it, is there?
He had a point; she hadn’t crossed any boundaries, had she? He flirted, she blushed. She didn’t reciprocate. She also didn’t disconnect the conversation.
It’s late. I should go now… she began to key in then paused. A hermit with writer’s block and insomnia should appreciate a man who wanted to talk with her. What could a little more conversation hurt?
Connor: Do you wear jeans, Gemma?
Gemma: Sure, all the time. They’re 90 percent of my wardrobe, LOL. Why?
Connor: I’ve got a thing for belt loops.
Gemma: What do you mean? And were they crossing a line?
Connor: Have you ever had a guy slip his fingers into the belt loops of your jeans and pull you so close to him, he could taste your lips?
Gemma: No, but I like the sound of that. Had she really typed that?
Connor: Maybe one day, I can pull you by the belt loops.
Three hours flew by and, finally, despite her fascination, her eyelids grew heavy.
Connor: I have a confession to make. I’ve bought your books and read them. You’re such a gifted author.
Gemma: You have? Her breath hitched.
Connor: Yes! I can’t get enough of your stories. You’re brilliant.
Gemma: Thank you. A weak response given he had just hit her cerebral G-spot. Connor loved her writing? He’d read her books? Incredible. No longer tired, she held her hands over the keyboard.
Gemma: I…have to come clean with something, too.
Connor: What?
All or nothing.
Gemma: I’m a sapiosexual.
Connor: Come again?
Gemma: A person sexually attracted to the intelligence in others. She held her breath for his response.
Connor: And where do I fit into this orientation of yours?
Butterflies somersaulted in her stomach.
Gemma: Top of the list.
Connor: We’re quite the pair, then.
A message popped up on her screen from a new sender.
Getu4me: I see you. You’re mine, bitch.
Gemma recoiled with a sharp gasp and slammed the lid of the laptop. “What the hell? Not again.” Tears of frustration and fear welled up.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
~A Note from Tianna~
er, It Was Always You
It Was Always You Page 5
