Leslie Kelly, Jennifer LaBrecque Read online

  “No more knights, huh?” he whispered, laughter in his voice.

  Olivia didn’t reply, she merely dropped her head onto his shoulder and tucked her face against his neck.

  The crowd, who’d been watching wide-eyed, parted as Rafe carried her to the door. She saw a few women frown, but most of them smiled, as if they themselves had been given renewed hope for their own prospects because of Rafe’s romantic display.

  It was indeed…knightly.

  Once they were outside, he kept walking, not putting her down even when they left the crowded club far behind them. She recognized the street and knew they weren’t far from his building. Keeping her head on his shoulder, her lips close enough to his neck to press soft kisses there, she was content to be carried like this, in silence, knowing all that needed to be said would wait until they were in the privacy of his home.

  They were there in minutes. After he carried her inside and let her down to shut the door behind them, Rafe kissed her again, slower this time. That mind-numbing, toe-curling pleasure washed over her and she wanted to draw him down onto the floor to show him how sorry she was in the most elemental way possible.

  But she needed to say some words first.

  “I made an awful mistake,” she whispered, drawing back to look up at him with every bit of sorrow she felt.

  “I know,” he told her, not sounding arrogant, just certain of how much he knew her. And them.

  “I regretted it the minute I walked away from you. Had things not ‘gone south’ and had I not had to battle one of Verona’s men to the death, I would have come after you immediately, long before you could reach the border.”

  He sighed deeply, lifting his eyes toward the ceiling and muttering something. She suspected it had to do with that to-the-death part, though she didn’t know why, since her presence here proved she wasn’t the one who’d died.

  “Is everything all right in your homeland?” he asked, as if wanting to get the particulars out of the way before they proceeded to the things that really mattered—like their relationship. “The prince?”

  “Now king,” she told him. “Fine, happy.”

  “Married?”

  She shook her head. “Hardly. His fiancée was safely escorted home and Ruprecht has introduced the court to his closest advisor, Jess of the Californias.”

  A low rumble of laughter built in his chest. But it didn’t emerge from his lips, and he wasn’t smiling as he asked, “And the queen?”

  “She fought. Or tried to.”

  He squeezed her tightly.

  “And for that, she was banished. The former Queen Verona is ensconced in the coldest, draftiest castle in the middle of a swamp with a dozen Amazons guarding her night and day. She will never leave that place.”

  “And who is leading this troop of Amazons?”

  “Not I,” she told him, lifting a hand and placing it on his chest, right above his beating heart. “I oversaw Verona’s incarceration, stayed in Grand Falls long enough to make sure Ruprecht’s throne was secure and his enemies routed, then resigned my commission.”

  He peered into her eyes, searching for something, some words she hadn’t yet offered. It terrified her, baring herself in such a way, but he had done it first, that day she’d left him at the castle. How could she be any less brave than he had been at that moment, when he couldn’t be entirely sure she would return, or what would happen if she failed?

  “I love you, Rafe,” she whispered. Her voice shook, so she repeated the words. “I love you with every bit of my scarred warrior’s heart.”

  His eyes gleamed as he reached for both her hands. “I love you, too,” he said. “I love your warrior’s heart and your intelligence and your loyalty and your spirit. I want you forever, Olivia.”

  “Truly?”

  “Oh, yes.” They kissed again, softly, then he led her to the couch and pulled her down upon it, cradling her in his lap.

  “That question you mentioned, the day I left, are you still going to ask it?” she whispered.

  “What question?”

  Frowning, she prodded, “Wasn’t there something you were going to ask me?”

  She distinctly recalled something about a bride and a wedding night and a woman who was so not a virgin anymore.

  She, the leader of the Amazons, was holding her breath, waiting for a marriage proposal she had never thought she’d want but now couldn’t wait to accept.

  He cocked his head in confusion. “I don’t follow.”

  “That day I left, you said that when we were free, you were going to ask me a question.” Suddenly fearing she’d misunderstood, she bit the corner of her lip. “Oh. Have you already asked it? When you asked me to come with you?”

  “As I recall, I didn’t ask you to come with me,” he said, tossing off the reply as if it didn’t matter. “I told you to.”

  Seeing the twinkle in his eyes, knowing he was doing this strange thing he called teasing, she tightened her arms and scowled. “Stop it.”

  “You know, even though you’re not an Amazon anymore, you’re still really hot when you’re mad.”

  “Rafe Cabot!”

  He ignored her, waving down at her body. “Speaking of you not being an Amazon anymore, please tell me you get to keep the uniform.”

  “I’m never going to wear it again after this night if you don’t stop teasing me!”

  Laughing softly, he kissed her forehead, her cheek, her jaw. Then, finally, he slid out from underneath her, dropping to his knees on the floor.

  “Olivia, will you stay with me, always? Will you stop being the guard of a king and settle for being the guard of my heart…as my wife?”

  She nodded solemnly, knowing this office, this role, was one she would never want to give up all the days of her life. And though she was not a poet, and had never had use for pretty words, she felt the need, just this once, to speak what she truly felt, right down to her soul.

  “I will, Rafe. I’ll marry you.” She lifted a hand to cup his face. “I’ll slay dragons for you. I’ll refrain from killing saucy wenches who dare to flirt with you when you sing. Someday I’ll have your children.”

  They shared a tender smile. Then Olivia added one more vow.

  “And I’ll stay by your side until there’s nothing left of either of us but the memory of how very much we loved each other.”

  Epilogue

  AND SO BEGAN THE REIGN of King Ruprecht the Merry.

  Once considered a fop and a bit of a fool, the young king proved to be as good and respected a monarch as his own much-loved father had been. He had the old king’s happy manner, and none of his wicked mother’s evil ways.

  His sense of justice became as famous as his sense of fashion, and no other ruler in all the lands could throw a better party. Under his rule, Grand Falls became the most modern of all the kingdoms, being the first in all of Elatyria to introduce such things as electric lights and a place called a movie theater.

  Those closest to Ruprecht did notice that, every once in a while, he seemed a bit…changed. Some days, he would appear a little taller, his shoulders a bit more broad, his voice more decisive.

  The romantics of the court believed it was because his one true love, denied him all his life due to her status as a commoner—and a former Amazonian—had returned for a lengthy visit to her homeland. With her beautiful children in tow, she had to be a sad reminder of the life the bachelor king might have lived.

  The more observant members of the court knew better. They saw the depth of warmth and emotion Ruprecht shared with his closest advisor, Jess. And they noted that every time King Ruprecht seemed to be a different person altogether, Jess would be gone from court for weeks at a time.

  None of them knew, of course, that the real Ruprecht, and his dearest love Jess, left once in a year to headline in Vegas. Or that his handsome double covered for the king because of their long-standing friendship.

  As for the Amazon warrior and her rock-and-roll singing husband, they lived a
long and happy life together in a place called California in the kingdom of the U.S.A. While she went to work catching villains as a city constable, he built her a beautiful chalet overlooking the bay. Together, they filled it with several children.

  And every other Saturday, on something they called “date night,” she would dig out her old leather skirt and top, and her sexy spike-heeled boots. Then her knight in shining armor would carry her to his tower and remind the warrior princess what being a woman was all about.

  GOLDIE AND THE THREE BROTHERS

  Jennifer LaBrecque

  For everyone who is still waiting for their own happily-ever-after.

  Prologue

  THE DIAMOND SOLITAIRE’S facets sparkled in the overhead fluorescent lighting of Ardmore Winery’s executive office suite.

  “It’s beautiful,” Goldie Dawkins admired, not even trying to keep the wistful note out of her voice.

  Lauren, who wore the winery’s administrative assistant hat, rocked her hand back and forth. “It is, isn’t it? Now, we’ve got to find you a guy.”

  Both in their late twenties, Goldie and Lauren had gotten to know one another fairly well in the two months Goldie had been in and out of the office at the winery while Ardmore decided if she was the right marketing consultant for their expanding enterprise north of metropolitan Atlanta. They had and she was. Yay for her. Now she was just waiting to get in to meet with Ardmore’s Chief Operating Officer, Chad Malone.

  Ardmore’s founder had left the winery to his three nephews, all brothers, when he’d retired two years ago. The oldest nephew, Chad pretty much handled the business end. He’d been her primary contact. Getting an appointment wasn’t easy, but she’d always found Chad to be efficient and fairly easy to work with. She’d also met briefly with Scott, the middle brother, who was in charge of shipping and distribution. However, she had yet to meet the youngest brother, Jake, who handled Ardmore’s sales. But that would soon change. Jake was slated to sit in on the marketing launch meeting this afternoon.

  Goldie leaned against the edge of Lauren’s neatly organized desk. “Finding a guy isn’t so much the problem,” Goldie said.

  Lauren knew about Goldie’s split with her long-term boyfriend. After a year and a half, Goldie had wanted to take their relationship to the next level. Brett had been happy with the status quo. She wanted a permanent relationship, roots, someone to stand by her through thick and thin. He claimed to love her but only wanted to live together. Unfortunately, before Brett, she’d wasted nearly two years in another dead-end relationship. And since Goldie absolutely refused to repeat her mother’s mistake of finding a man who wasn’t willing to stick around when a kid showed up, it was sayonara Brett.

  “I’m done with commitment-phobic men. Finding a guy who’s not absolutely terrified at the concept of marriage seems to be a lost cause.”

  “Speaking of which—” Lauren looked beyond Goldie “—here’s the original lost cause.”

  Perplexed, Goldie glanced over her shoulder. She found herself gazing into a pair of obsidian eyes with a wicked gleam fringed in equally dark lashes, a straight nose, and the most sensually lush mouth she’d ever seen on a man. A sudden rushing filled her ears, her heart pounded, and she could’ve sworn the floor tilted beneath her feet.

  “Lost cause? You wound me, Lauren.” Those dark-as-sin eyes seemed to look straight into Goldie’s soul. “Jake Malone,” he said by way of introduction, extending a hand.

  “Goldie Dawkins.” His hand enveloped hers and it took a moment for her to find her voice again. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Likewise.” He released her hand and quirked an amused eyebrow at Lauren. “And exactly why am I a lost cause?”

  “It’s that confirmed-bachelor anti-marriage status of yours.”

  “There is that.” He nodded his head toward Lauren’s engagement ring. “I’d say you’re the lost cause. I’ve tried to steer you away from the dark side but you seem intent to self-destruct.”

  Lauren sent a mock despairing glance Goldie’s way. “See? A total lost cause. You can strike him off your potential husband list.”

  Jake looked at Goldie as if she’d morphed into Medusa. Goldie could’ve throttled Lauren on the spot. “You have a potential husband list?” he asked in disbelief.

  She sounded like a nutcase when he put it that way. Instead she was simply a woman who wanted what she hadn’t grown up with: a stable family where a man and woman shared a commitment. “Not actually a list….” Well, there was kind of a list, but that was none of his business.

  “She’s a modern woman who isn’t afraid to say she wants to get married,” Lauren said.

  “I’m sure you won’t have any trouble finding a husband if that’s what you want.” Well, that was actually very flattering. “After all, there’s a sucker born every day.”

  Jake Malone didn’t need to worry about making her list. In less than five minutes he’d gone from being the sexiest man she’d ever laid eyes on to a guy she wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole. No matter how much she might want to.

  1

  Six months later…

  WHY COULDN’T MEN JUST do what they were supposed to do, be where they were supposed to be, and be there on time? Obviously that was too much to ask, Goldie Dawkins silently fumed as she stood, drenched from the rain, on the front porch of a godforsaken cabin in the middle of the godforsaken woods in the midst of a godforsaken torrential downpour thunderstorm.

  She double-checked the address. Yep. This was the cabin owned by the Malone brothers. She was here, but where were they? As a rivulet of water ran down her cheek, she held on to her temper. It was her enthusiasm and willingness to go the extra mile that had landed her the Ardmore Winery account six months ago. So when Chad, Ardmore’s COO, had asked her to “stop by” the cabin to review the latest focus group results with him and Scott, she’d agreed even though it would’ve been infinitely easier for her to meet at their office.

  Sure, she’d just happen to be on the side of a north Georgia mountain late on a Friday afternoon in May and she could drop in. Not. But Chad, a bonafide workaholic if she’d ever met one, had planned a working weekend at the cabin, which according to Lauren, belonged to all three brothers. That was where he wanted to meet, so this was where they were meeting.

  Goldie had sat through the traffic from hell getting out of Atlanta, even though she’d left early. Knowing she’d never finish up and get back to her apartment in time to make her Friday night spin class, she’d had the bright idea she’d get her workout by hiking the two miles from the mountain base to the Malone cabin. It hadn’t been bad…until two miles as the crow flies turned into more like four on mountainous switchbacks. And then the rain had started. There’d been thunderstorms the past couple of days, but she’d thought they were over. Heck, it had been nice and sunny when she’d started out. Lightning popped nearby, followed by a crash of thunder, and she nearly jumped out of her skin.

  She’d endured all of that and now no one was here. And it was still raining to beat the band. All of this for a half-hour meeting, forty-five minutes tops. Where were Chad and Scott?

  There was much to admire about Chad: he had a work ethic that wouldn’t quit—actually, he was probably the picture Webster used to illustrate the word workaholic in their dictionary—and he was certainly good-looking. Great work ethic, if a tad inconsiderate; handsome in a type-A, big-man kind of way—the kind of guy you could depend on. Except, apparently, now.

  She peered in through the window of the obviously empty cabin as the rain continued to come down in sheets. It was strange that Scott, brother number two, wasn’t here either. Scott Malone was muscled, seriously muscled, and was also quite handsome. Scott was what you’d call the über-athlete. Not only in charge of the distribution department, he also headed the winery’s softball team. Like Chad, Scott qualified as a good guy. Maybe he was a little too competitive, but he was still a sweetie.

  Goldie fished in her purse for her
phone. Maybe they’d gotten stuck in traffic. The only bright spot from where she stood was the fact that Jake wasn’t supposed to be here. Jake was tied up in an out-of-town sales meeting, which suited her just fine. Jake rattled her cage. He had from the moment she’d met him. And unfortunately for her, every time she’d run into him ever since. Not good, not good at all. She wanted a husband, a family. And from the get-go, it had been apparent that Jake Malone didn’t do long-term commitment. So her heart’s habit of doing the cha-cha whenever he was around was just plain stupid. She figured sooner or later, like maybe the next millennium, she’d become immune to his dark-as-sin eyes and smile that quirked up the right corner of his mouth. In the meantime, though, she simply stayed the heck away from him.

  She hauled out her cell phone. Ack! Still no signal. Blasted cell phone towers. They could send an unmanned vehicle to Mars but they couldn’t get a cell phone signal to reach the north Georgia mountains. She paced to the other end of the porch. A beep went off. Ah, music to her ears, it was the sound of her cell phone picking up a signal. She froze and didn’t dare move, afraid she’d lose service again. Her message alert promptly went off. She had three voice mails and two text messages.

  She pulled up the texts first.

  Meeting cancelled. Chad and Scott in 10 car pileup on I-575. Not hurt. Please acknowledge.

  She scrolled to the next screen, which essentially repeated the previous message. The three voice mails were from Lauren, who sounded increasingly frantic to reach her.

  She pressed Lauren on her contact list. Her friend answered on the second ring.

  “Thank God you called. I’ve been worried sick about you,” Lauren said without preamble. Apparently her caller ID had pegged Goldie as the caller. “Are you okay?”

  “Other than being soaked to the skin, I’m fine. I got here early so I could hike up the mountain, you know, get in a little exercise, on my way to the meeting. I hadn’t counted on losing cell phone service in the mountains…or the rain.”