by Joy Avery
“Because I need to show you.”
Her gaze drifted away again. He could tell she was mulling over his request. A beat later, she nodded. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.
Chapter 25
The drive to wherever they were headed was a quiet one. Vivian refused to even look at Alonso, let alone hold a conversation with him. When she’d walked into Hamilton’s place and seen him standing there in his tailored dark business suit, it’d taken her breath away. How could his presence still be so powerful?
As much as she wanted to ignore him, her body continued to respond to him. His nearness, his scent, his beautiful build. She hated herself right now. For lusting for him. For still loving him. For getting in this vehicle with him headed to only God knew where.
Why was she so weak when it came to lying Alonso? The silly name garnered a laugh she’d intended to hold inside.
“What’s funny?” he asked.
Vivian sobered. Sliding her gaze from the windshield, she settled it out of the passenger side window. “Nothing,” she said drily.
So lost in her thoughts, Vivian hadn’t noticed the route they’d taken until they turned onto the street she’d grown up on. When her childhood home came into view, she shot a glance in Alonso’s direction. “What are we doing here?”
Alonso pulled into her driveway, popped the gearshift into Park and killed the engine. He stared straight ahead. “Everything has a price, Vivian.”
Not this again. She’d agreed to deed the house to him. What more could he want?
“Even love.” He leveled his gaze on her. “I know this because I’m paying dearly.”
Instead of elaborating, he flashed a low-wattage smile and exited the vehicle. When he opened her door, there was a brief moment when she thought he would lean in and kiss her. She was glad he didn’t, because she wasn’t sure she would have had enough willpower to resist.
Using the key she’d hurled at him in his office, Alonso popped the lock to the front door, then stepped aside to allow her to enter ahead of him. “You still haven’t told—” Vivian paused, the setup in the room halting her words. Several easels were placed throughout the living room, all displaying different architectural designs. “What is this?”
“Your vision made reality,” Alonso said from behind her.
“My—” Again, she ended midthought. Something special caught her eye. Her grandmother’s name in block lettering on one of the display boards. The tip of her finger outlined the letters.
“That’s the clinic.”
“The clinic?” she said absently.
Alonso moved to each of the displays, labeling as he went. “Community-slash-recreation center. A job-skills facility. Day care center. And, of course, transitional housing. The city has agreed to absorb some of the maintenance cost. And Ham has agreed to be the on-site maintenance man.” He chuckled. “He said it’ll give him something to do, other than cooking. This is your dream, Vivian. I just wanted to make it come true.”
Vivian’s head spun. Was he saying he’d done all of this for her? “You altered your plans...for me?”
“Woman, I’ll alter my life for you. That’s how much I love you.”
Vivian folded her arms across her chest and studied her feet. If she held on to his penetrating eyes a second longer, she’d go insane. Batting back the emotions swelling inside of her, she reminded herself of the circumstances that had gotten them here.
“I get why you’re upset with me, Vivian. I do. Even though I never sent that letter, at one point, yes, I’d considered it.”
The admission forced her to meet Alonso’s eyes again. “And that’s what hurts so much, Alonso. I have no idea who I fell in love with. I don’t know...I don’t know the man capable of doing something so low to get what he wants. And I don’t want to know him.”
“And you never will. The man who signed that paper and stuffed it in a drawer,” he emphasized, “and the man standing before you now are two completely different people, Vivian.”
“How, when they both encompass the same body?”
“The man who signed that letter wanted to be the big man. This man...” He rested an open hand over his chest. “All this man wants to be is a better man. That’s what you do for me, Vivian. You make me want to be better, do better. I admit that I haven’t always been on the up-and-up with you, but I swear to you I am now.”
Rarely did words convince her of anything, but looking into Alonso’s eyes, she could feel his sincerity. It chipped away at her doubt.
“I’ve never known a woman like you, Vivian. And I can’t give you up.” He took a step toward her. “Baby, I can’t give you up. I could exist without you, but you’ve gotten me too damn used to actually living. And that, I can’t do without you.”
Vivian swallowed the painful lump stuck in her throat, trapping her words.
“All I want is for you to hear me, Vivian. Feel me. Love me, because I love the hell out of you. I’ll give you time, and I’ll respect whatever decision you make. And whether you choose me or not, it doesn’t change any of this.” He swept his hand across the designs. “This will happen regardless.”
Vivian bit at the corner of her lip. She fought the tears threatening to spill from her eyes. Emotion—raw, intense, necessary—raged inside of her.
“Come on. I’ll take you back to your car.”
Vivian rotated toward the displays. Never in her wildest dreams could she have ever imagined a gesture this grand. Never in her wildest dreams would she ever have imagined anyone sacrificing so much for her. “I stood in this room once and asked my grandmother why my parents no longer loved me.” Her voice cracked as she forced herself to continue. “In my mind, they’d simply given me away.”
Alonso’s footsteps shuffled over the floor. Without turning, she could sense him inches from her. And when he finally rested his large hands on her waist and guided her trembling body back against his, she didn’t pull away.
“My grandmother told me that one day I’d understand that sacrifice is the purest form of love. I understand that now.” The impact of each one of his unbridled words had settled past her heart and into her soul.
“I hear you, Alonso.”
Loud and clear.
“I feel you.”
Raw and potent.
“And I love you.”
Loved him in a manner that defied theory or explanation. Loved him blindly and with full sight.
She wanted his love. Needed his love. Refused to continue another second denying it.
Turning, she said, “Are you still in the market for love? Namely, mine?”
Alonso slid his hand up the back of her neck and intertwined his fingers in her hair. With a fistful of her locks, he eased her head back, then smashed his mouth to hers. The intensity of the kiss overwhelmed her. And when her knees buckled, Alonso was there to keep her body from collapsing to the floor.
He kissed her long. He kissed her hard. He satisfied the hunger that had lurked inside of her since they’d been apart.
Breaking their intimate bond, Alonso stared into her eyes. “I love you in so many ways. Don’t ever take your love away from me again, woman.”
“I won’t.”
His mouth found hers again, and he kissed her as if it were the very first time their lips had ever touched. Standing there, she knew one thing for certain. She knew she would forever be his. And she had an idea he knew it, too.
Epilogue
Six Weeks Later...
Vivian eyed the large diamond on her finger and smiled with the same brilliance she had when Alonso slid it onto her finger two weeks ago. She’d wanted to wait until after Tressa’s nuptials to wed, but Alonso had been adamant about making her his wife. So they’d had a small ceremony at dusk on Infinity Island.
Vivian thought back to when they’d first met, when Alonso couldn’t stop calling her Mrs. Wright. In a million years, she never would have guessed he’d been foreshadowing their future. “The feeling is mutual, Mr. Wright.”
“Are you sure you’re not upset that we had to postpone the honeymoon?”
Vivian laughed. “For the thousandth time, no. It was my idea, remember? You have so much going on with the downtown project. I would have felt guilty dragging you away.”
“Everything stops for you. You know that.”
The words warmed her heart. “We have forever to go on our honeymoon.”
“Forever sounds good to me.” In a swift move, he had her back on the blanket. “I never dreamed I could ever love anyone as much as I love you, Vivian Wright. Not even myself. I’m proud to call you my wife.”
Vivian cradled her husband’s face between her hands, tears clouding her vision. She wanted to tell him that she knew exactly how he felt, but was unable to speak past the lump lodged in her throat. Instead, she pulled his mouth to her and kissed him with all the love she held for him.
After what felt like an eternity, Alonso broke their connection. “We’re going to have an amazing life together.”
She couldn’t agree more.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from
SECRET MIAMI NIGHTS by Pamela Yaye
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Secret Miami Nights
by Pamela Yaye
Chapter 1
“Welcome home, Mr. Rollins.” Cap in hand, the suit-clad limousine driver bowed at the waist and nodded his bald, shiny head in greeting. “It’s an honor to meet you.”
Ashton Rollins was beat, exhausted after his ten-hour flight from Frankfurt, but he read the driver’s name tag and shook his outstretched hand. “York, the pleasure is all mine.”
A proud smile exploded onto York’s wide, tanned face. Racing around to the passenger-side door, he yanked it open and gestured at the backseat with a dramatic flourish of his hands.
Embarrassed by the driver’s effusive behavior, Ashton noticed the employees on the tarmac at Miami International Airport’s General Aviation Center were staring at him. He was the Chief Operating Officer of his family’s business, Rollins Aeronautics, not a head of state, and unlike his father, Alexander, he didn’t like people fussing over him.
Lowering his head, he ducked inside the limousine and rested his briefcase at his feet. Ashton unbuttoned his tailored suit jacket and made himself comfortable. A week ago, he’d traveled to Frankfurt to attend the Aerospace Expo, and had worked nonstop while in the bustling metropolis. He’d arrived at the airport twenty minutes earlier by corporate jet, and the landing had been so rough his head was still spinning. Ashton would have preferred piloting his private plane to travel, but these days he had no time for his favorite hobby.
Ashton unzipped his briefcase, took out his tablet and turned it on. But he didn’t review his weekly schedule. His thoughts were on Haley Adams—the bubbly, effervescent CEO he’d been introduced to weeks earlier at the Millionaire Moguls meeting. For five years, Ashton had been president of the exclusive club. It was as discreet as it was powerful, and members couldn’t buy their way in—they had to be invited. The name of the organization was officially Prescott George, but the media called them the Millionaire Moguls. Ashton hated the moniker. The Moguls were more than just wealthy businessmen: they did good work. They provided college scholarships to needy students, funded inner-city organizations and changed lives.
Pride filled him at the thought of how much they’d accomplished. Every year, the Moguls chose a charity to support, and this year they’d selected The Aunt Penny Foundation. The organization would reap the profits from the Moguls’ seventy-fifth anniversary party and charity gala to be held at Ashton’s Fisher Island estate at the end of August, but he wasn’t going to wait six weeks to see Haley Adams. Screw that. He wanted to see her now. Today. Before one of the other moguls swooped in and stole her away. The twenty-eight-year old CEO was a magnet, the type of woman who attracted male attention wherever she went, and he couldn’t risk someone else winning her heart.
Ashton remembered with astounding clarity the day they’d met. Her smile had stayed with him from the moment he’d laid eyes on her, and weeks later he was still thinking about her. Ashton didn’t know why. They’d only talked for a couple minutes. Haley was supposed to give a presentation on behalf of The Aunt Penny Foundation, but she’d received an emergency phone call and promptly left. He’d made inquiries about her after the meeting wrapped up, and learned from her colleague Becca Wright that Haley’s Aunt Penny had been rushed to the hospital. Moved by compassion, he’d called his favorite florist and had flowers delivered to the woman’s hospital room.
In the few moments of casual conversation that they’d had, Haley had captivated him. It was more than just her womanly curves. Sure, she was beautiful and accomplished, but he met attractive, successful women every day. It was the emotion he’d seen on her face when she’d found out her aunt was ill that had touched him. Ashton was surrounded by people whose emotions were buried deep inside. He, himself, was a master at concealing his feelings.
He didn’t feel comfortable opening up to anyone. Not even the people he loved most. Sadly, the accident had changed everything.
The words froze in his brain. The accident. Bitter memories darkened his mind. No one ever talked about it. Ashton thought about his college days. At Nilson University, he’d dated Mia Landers, a scholarship student who had had a crush on him for several years. His parents didn’t like Mia, but he figured they’d come around. His father suggested that Ashton was dating Mia as a form of delayed adolescent rebellion, and his mother, Joan, labeled Mia “common” and “a nobody.” But Ashton had continued dating her. He hadn’t cared what they thought. It was his life.
The day Ashton told his parents he’d proposed to Mia, all hell had broken loose at the Rollins estate. His father claimed Mia didn’t belong in their world, wasn’t welcome, and had no place in their family. Enraged, Ashton had stood his ground, arguing that if they took the time to get to know her, instead of judging her, they’d love her as much as he did. Tragically, Ashton had never had the opp
ortunity to prove what an incredible woman his fiancée was.
Pain stabbed Ashton’s heart, and his vision blurred. Shortly after graduation, he and Mia were in a car accident that had proved fatal for her. He’d woken up in the hospital with no memory of the accident, but Mia had died at the scene. Alexander said authorities believed Mia must have been drinking and she’d lost control of her car. The police report made no sense to Ashton. Mia was not a drinker. And when they were together, he always drove, even if it was her car. “Mia was driving,” Alexander had said firmly. “Be thankful. If you were driving, you could have been charged with manslaughter.”
Weeks later, Ashton had received devastating news. The autopsy report claimed there were drugs in Mia’s system. His family had managed to keep the information out of the press, but that was the least of Ashton’s problems. He’d lost the love of his life, and hated his father’s cold, callous attitude about the accident. He’d attended Mia’s funeral in a wheelchair, in a haze of grief and confusion, and had nightmares about the accident for several months.
Once his physical injuries healed, he’d been worried about his future. Would people blame him for Mia’s death? Would he lose his acceptance to business school? Would his reputation be destroyed? His parents had instructed him not to speak of the incident to people outside of the family. If there was gossip and speculation about what had caused the mishap, Ashton wasn’t privy to it. To this day, more than ten years after Mia’s death, the incident was never spoken of in the Rollins household. Occasionally, he still dreamt about it but in his waking hours, he sometimes wondered if the accident had really happened. If he’d ever even had a fiancée.
Taking off his aviator sunglasses, Ashton rubbed at his eyes. Since the car accident, he’d toed the line where his family was concerned. He’d gotten his Ivy League MBA and gone to work at Rollins Aeronautics. He only dated women his parents considered “appropriate.” But not once had he fallen in love. He continued to feel guilty about Mia’s death, though everyone told him it wasn’t his fault. Why hadn’t he realized she was under the influence? Why had he let her get behind the wheel? If he had been driving, the accident could have been avoided, and he’d be married now, not heartbroken and alone.
