Bestselling Authors Collection 2012

by Trish Morey; Day Leclaire; Natalie Anderson; Brenda Jackson; Ann Voss Peterson

  ‘Well—’ her colour deepened ‘—I don’t think he’d want to know any intimate kind of details about anyone I’m with but—’

  ‘No father wants a man like me to be with his daughter. No father.’

  She lifted her head. ‘Someone’s said that before?’

  ‘More than once,’ he exaggerated. ‘Not good enough.’

  ‘You need to lose the chip, Lorenzo,’ she said coolly. ‘Anyway—’ she lifted her head proudly ‘—I don’t live with them. I’m grown up. I make my own choices. I can see whoever I want.’

  ‘You say that but we both know that what your family thinks means everything to you. You’ve been tied up in knots for weeks over what they’d think of your work. What they think of your lover would be even worse.’ He watched her swallow. Knew he’d scored a hit.

  ‘You’re making far too much of something that happened for ever ago. And even if it did bother Dad initially, it wouldn’t be a problem once he got to know you now.’

  ‘You just don’t get it. I am not the kind of person who should be with you.’

  ‘What kind of person do you think you are? Because I know you. And I know—’

  ‘You don’t know me,’ he interrupted. ‘You’ve got no idea, Sophy.’

  ‘Tell me, then,’ she shouted back.

  ‘Tell you what, Sophy? The ugly truth? How rough it was? How rough I am?’

  ‘Yeah.’ Her anger flared. ‘Why not tell me some more clichés—the abused-boy stories.’

  His vision burst with red. ‘What would you know about it? Having to be taken away from your own parents because of the way they treated you? Your father saying you should have been the scum in an abortionist’s bucket?’

  Sophy recoiled.

  ‘Oh, that was nothing, darling,’ he sneered. ‘That was just words and not even the worst. Wait ‘til you hear the rest.’

  ‘Lorenzo, I’m sor—’

  He shouted over her. ‘I was beaten for answering him wrong, for not answering soon enough, for not answering at all. It didn’t matter what I did, it happened anyway. With fists, sticks, belts—whatever he had to hand. I wasn’t wanted by him, wasn’t protected by her, and I wasn’t wanted by anyone else after. I’d go to a new house, a new home. Meet a new family. Again and again.’ He was shaking, bunched his fists to try to stop the uncontrollable jerking of his hands.

  ‘Lorenzo, please—’

  His sharp gesture shut her up.

  He took a step backwards down the hall, away from her as his agony boiled over. ‘You think you can possibly know about it? I sought approval, Sophy. I tried. I would have done anything to make it okay. And I tried everything. But it never worked. It was me that was wrong—every time. So I stopped trying so hard. Because every time it was the same. Too difficult. Out of control. Angry. I always stuffed up. Labels stick, so why bother trying? Because in the end you know they don’t want you anyway. They never want you.’

  ‘I want you,’ she whispered.

  It made him incensed. ‘No, you don’t.’

  ‘I do.’ She walked after him.

  ‘You like the sex,’ he yelled, taking more steps back. ‘This is just an excursion for you. As hard core as you’ve ever gotten. Your ride with the bad boy. In another week you’ll be over it. Go back to someone perfect, Sophy. Someone from the right background, who’ll fit into your perfect family.’

  ‘My family aren’t perfect.’

  He laughed then. ‘Oh yeah? Your parents love you. You think they don’t but of course they do. They call you all the time, you do things for them all the time. It wouldn’t matter what you do, Sophy, no matter how awful, they’ll still love you, they’ll always love you. But no matter what I did, mine never loved me. And you know the result?’ His throat hurt as he hurled the truth out. ‘I’m damaged, Sophy. Treat someone like an animal and they become an animal. And there’s no changing that.’ That was what her father knew too. ‘You have no idea of the rage I can feel. I frighten myself. And I refuse to frighten you.’

  He stopped, breathing hard. He couldn’t stay in control of anything around her. And it terrified him.

  ‘You don’t frighten me, Lorenzo.’

  ‘I can’t control it,’ he said flatly, admitting the worst. ‘I don’t want to hurt you.’

  ‘You’re hurting me now.’

  He shook his head. No, he was protecting her.

  ‘I love you, Lorenzo. Let me love you.’

  ‘No one can love me.’ He denied her—he had to. ‘And I can’t love. I won’t.’ His back was right up against the door now. ‘I can’t be part of any kind of family. I tried. And I failed every single time. I won’t try again, Sophy. Not even for you.’

  ‘You don’t have to. It can just be me, Lorenzo.’

  He turned and opened the door. ‘It can’t,’ he said heavily. ‘You know it can’t. You want it all—and you should have it. The nice guy who loves you, who’ll stand at the barbie and talk sport with your father, who’ll be a good father to your babies.’ He looked over his shoulder at her. ‘What the hell kind of dad would I make?’ The knife dug deep in his heart and he screwed his eyes tight against the pain. ‘I don’t need it. Don’t want it. Not happening. Not ever happening.’ He stood in the open doorway, the cold pre-dawn air chilling the hall. ‘I’m sorry I manhandled you tonight. You were right. It’s over.’

  Sophy cried. Curled into a ball in the hall and sobbed her heart out. So ironic, wasn’t it, that the ‘perfect’ boyfriend had only wanted her for the kudos he could get from her family, while the one she loved wanted nothing to do with her because of them—at least in part? After an age she moved, sat staring at the dining table for hours, barely seeing the pattern in the wood as the conversation circled in her head. And her anger with him grew.

  Coward. The selfish, bitter coward.

  Yet she hurt so much for him—the hell he’d been through. He’d missed out on so much. As a result he didn’t understand love. And she wanted to help him understand it. She had to talk to him again, had to show him. Somehow she had to get through to him—or at least try.

  By the time she summoned the courage it was after nine the next morning. He was out the back of the warehouse already. He was in jeans, but had no tee on, hadn’t shaved. He’d been at it for a while because his body was gleaming. But he didn’t stop bouncing the ball. Didn’t stop to look at her.

  ‘You’re wrong, Lorenzo. You know you’re wrong.’

  He said nothing.

  ‘You can’t stop me loving you.’

  He took the shot but missed the hoop.

  ‘You’re using it as an excuse. You like playing the tortured loner type. It’s safe for you. You won’t let anyone close because you can’t bear to be rejected again. But I wouldn’t reject you.’

  ‘You would.’ His mouth barely moved.

  She stepped in and snatched the ball, forcing him to look at her, to pay attention. ‘You’re right, my family do love me. No matter what they’ll love me. And if they know how happy you make me, they’ll love you—regardless of your past. But you won’t give them or me a chance because it’s easier not to.’ She took a shot but missed too. She turned to him as the ball bounced away. ‘You’re lazy. And you’re a coward.’

  He looked at her, but there wasn’t the fire she’d hoped for. Just the dull stones.

  ‘I can’t presume to understand what you went through. I wouldn’t dare to. But I do know this—you can’t let it ruin the rest of your life. You can’t lose faith in everybody. And I don’t believe you have. Why else do you try to help those kids? Why else did you give Vance a chance with the bar? You try to keep yourself shut away but you can’t quite do it. And you couldn’t do it with me. Only now you’re scared. Now you’re trying to run. But you don’t have to, not from me.’

  She stepped closer and took in a deep breath. ‘Everyone has problems, Lorenzo. We all do. But problems are best solved with help—and with support from the people who love you.’ He didn’t have to face hi
s demons alone. She’d stand by his side and help him slay them. As he helped her.

  He jerked, looking away from her and going back to the fence to get the ball. She stood, helplessly watching as he started the relentless practising again. She was waiting long moments for what—to be ignored?

  She gulped, the burning hurt too strong to be held down any more.

  ‘You know, maybe I do know something of what you went through,’ she choked. ‘Maybe I do know something about loving someone, of wanting to be loved back but only to be rejected. Not wanted.’ The tears suddenly streamed down her face. ‘But at the end of the day it’s your loss. You could have had everything, Lorenzo. I would have given you everything.’

  She ran then, wanting to get as far from this hell as she could. Everything—her hope, her heart, her love—was in tatters.

  She didn’t hear it, didn’t see it, as she blindly ran as fast as she could. The last thing she was conscious of was the piercing screech of rubber on metal, and the animal scream in her ears.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  THE door opened. Lorenzo turned his head as the woman burst in.

  ‘Where—?’ She broke off, gulping as she saw the pale figure in the bed. ‘Oh, Sophy.’ The tears sprang just like that. ‘Is she going to be okay?’

  Lorenzo stood but didn’t answer and didn’t move away. He looked beyond her to the man who’d stopped on the threshold. After a moment that man walked to the other side of the bed and looked down at his daughter for a time, his expression rigid. Then he looked at Lorenzo for even longer, even more frozen.

  ‘I know you.’ He didn’t smile.

  ‘Yes.’ Lorenzo still held her hand. His fingers tightened instinctively. ‘I’m not leaving.’

  ‘I can see that.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Lorenzo sat down again.

  ‘Beth, this is… ‘He kept staring at Lorenzo.

  ‘Lorenzo. Lorenzo Hall.’

  ‘That’s right.’ He nodded slowly. Lorenzo just knew it had all come back to him now.

  ‘Do you know each other?’ Her mother looked from her father to him.

  Lorenzo looked at the man who had once judged him. Who’d once before given him a chance. And waited.

  ‘Not really.’

  Lorenzo looked down at the bed.

  ‘You’re a friend of Sophy’s?’ her mother asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  In the silence, nothing more was said.

  The guilt was swamping him. It was his fault. If he hadn’t made her so upset. If she’d hadn’t been at the damn warehouse. If she hadn’t run so fast, so blindly from him.

  Her blonde hair was spread on the pillow with its perfect curls on the ends. Her skin was unnaturally pale with the ugly bruise deepening. He still couldn’t believe there were no broken bones—or worse. He’d waited, utterly distraught, while they’d done their tests. A bad bump to the head, that was all, despite being knocked to the ground, clipped by the edge of the car. It was only the driver’s quick action in pulling on the wheel that had saved her from more serious injuries.

  The doctors would monitor her for the night, but they didn’t think there was anything they’d missed. But even now, despite their words, he feared there was damage beyond what he could see.

  ‘Why don’t you call Victoria and Ted, darling?’ Sophy’s father spoke. ‘Go into the lounge area. I’ll come and get you if there’s any change.’

  Lorenzo knew they were communicating behind his back. He didn’t care. He wasn’t leaving the damn room.

  As soon as the door closed behind her he lifted his gaze and met the judge’s. He had the same blue eyes as Sophy’s—only his were colder. ‘Things have changed for you since we last met, Lorenzo.’

  ‘A lot.’

  ‘I’m glad.’ He looked serious. ‘Does Sophy know?’

  ‘Yes.’ Lorenzo swallowed.

  ‘And she’s your…friend?’

  He knew what he was asking. ‘Yes.’

  The judge’s face tightened. ‘You had a lot of potential back then. But when I saw you, you were too angry to use it. Too angry to let anyone care for you. Anyone who tried had it thrown back at them.’ His voice changed, to the implacable, imperative word of law. ‘Don’t you do that to my daughter.’

  Lorenzo didn’t answer, just looked at the small fingers resting limply in his. He couldn’t bring himself to admit that he’d already done exactly that.

  Sophy’s head really hurt. She blinked. Tried again, squeezing her eyes open just that little bit. ‘Lorenzo?’

  No answer. But he was here. She was sure of it. She could smell him. She could feel the warmth from the pressure of his hand—he’d been holding it, hadn’t he? ‘Lorenzo?’

  ‘He’s not here,’ a deep voice answered. ‘I told him to go.’

  ‘What?’ she wailed. ‘Dad!’

  A warm hand touched hers, but it wasn’t the right hand.

  ‘Sophy?’ Her mother bent over her. ‘Honey, are you okay?’

  Had she just sobbed? Just a little bit?

  ‘He’ll be back. He’ll come back, I’m sure. We just told him to go get some coffee. He hadn’t moved for almost two hours.’

  Okay, so she had sobbed. She closed her eyes again. Felt the wet on her cheek and turned her head away, pressing deeper into the pillow. He wouldn’t be back. He didn’t want to be near her family—or any family.

  ‘Sophy?’

  ‘Should we get the doctor?’ Her mother’s voice rose.

  ‘No,’ Sophy croaked. ‘No. I’m okay.’ And with every word she spoke her voice grew stronger. ‘What happened?’

  ‘You were hit by a car. You ran straight out onto the road.’

  ‘Were you running away from something, Sophy? Someone?’ her father asked quietly, but she heard the tone, the condemnation, the conclusion.

  She shook her head, wincing as it hurt. ‘Not what you think, Dad.’

  ‘I don’t know what to think, sweetheart.’

  Carefully she opened her eyes, looked at her father. ‘Do you remember him?’

  ‘I remember all of them,’ her father said sombrely. ‘But some stick in your mind more than others.’

  The tears welled again, stinging her eyeballs.

  ‘He was very angry back then. But he had a lot to be angry about.’

  Sophy’s heart was breaking. She needed her father to know, to understand. ‘I love him, Dad.’

  The sharp intake of breath was audible—but it didn’t come from either of her parents. Sophy turned her head. Lorenzo stood in the doorway.

  ‘You’re awake. Are you okay?’ The edge of panic was evident both in the speed of the question and the hesitancy as he hovered.

  She licked her horribly dry lips.

  ‘Edward, let’s go get some fresh coffee.’ Her mother suddenly stood. ‘Come on. She can’t have too many people in here at once. She’ll get too tired.’

  Sophy watched the two men looking at each other—saw some message she couldn’t interpret pass between them.

  Lorenzo moved closer, where she could see him better. He was so pale.

  ‘Sophy.’ His voice broke. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘It was my fault. I should have been watching where I was going.’

  He shook his head. ‘I shouldn’t have made you so upset. I never wanted to hurt you like this.’

  The brush-off. Again. It was so embarrassing. Dully she admitted the truth. ‘I shouldn’t have pushed for something you never wanted to give.’

  ‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘But not about that. I’m scared—just like you said. A coward. You scare me to death—how you make me feel scares me.’ He moved quickly, sat in the seat near her head. ‘I don’t know that I can give you what you want from me.’

  ‘Lorenzo.’ She took in a deep breath. She’d take all there was—no matter how little. She loved him. She wanted him. She was happy when with him. She didn’t need all the bells and whistles. She just needed him. ‘All I want is whatever you have to give.’

>   He stared at her. The dark eyes tortured, the unhappiness hurting her more than the relentless pounding in her head and in her heart. ‘But you deserve so much more than that. So much more than me.’

  ‘No.’ Her eyes filled. She didn’t want him to push her away like that. No one else could give her what he could. ‘I want you. That’s all. Just you.’

  ‘And I want you. But I don’t want to make you unhappy. And I have.’

  She opened her mouth but he kept talking.

  ‘It’s all new to me. You know that—the whole big family thing. But I’ll try, if you want me to.’

  She trembled and his hand quickly covered hers.

  ‘What made you change your mind?’

  ‘Nearly losing you today.’ His voice wavered again.

  ‘I got a bump on the head. I’m not about to die—’

  ‘If you had seen yourself you wouldn’t say that.’

  ‘Lorenzo, I’m fine.’

  ‘Well, I’m not. I don’t think I’ll ever recover from seeing you crumple like that.’ He closed his eyes and bowed his head, both his hands firmly clasped around hers. ‘Can you be patient with me?’

  ‘Yes.’ She had him. Nothing else mattered. She didn’t need the grand gestures, the romantic flourishes. She just needed him.

  He leaned across, kissed her tenderly on the lips. Not enough for her.

  ‘You’re staying in here tonight.’

  ‘No.’ She frowned. ‘I’m not.’

  ‘You are. Observation. You probably have concussion.

  You need to be monitored.’

  ‘I can be monitored at home. Rosanna will—’

  ‘Rosanna is away,’ Lorenzo said sharply. ‘I’ll wait with you today. Come back to pick you up in the morning. Unless—’ he breathed out ‘—you’d rather your parents did?’

  ‘I want you to.’

  His hand cupped her face so gently. ‘I don’t deserve you.’

  ‘You do,’ she said, angry tears springing again. ‘You do.’

  She would make him understand that—somehow. She loved him. But she couldn’t say it again—wouldn’t—because she didn’t want him to feel the pressure to say it in return. She didn’t know that he’d ever be able to say it. It didn’t matter. Her tortured warrior spoke with actions. And he was here. That was enough.