Falling for Him 10_ Karen and R - Jessica Gray - Copy

Falling for Him Karen and Robert Book 2 (Book 10 in the Falling for Him Series) Jessica Gray

This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, and places in this book exist only within the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons or locations is purely coincidental. Falling For Him, Karen and Robert, Book 2 (Book 10 in the Falling for Him Series) All Rights Reserved Copyright © 2016 Jessica Gray This book is copyrighted and protected by copyright laws.

No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without prior written permission from the author. Cover Design by http://www.StunningBookCovers.com

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Table of Contents Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10

Chapter 11 Preview Power of Love More Books by Jessica

Chapter 1 Karen reached up to adjust the platinum blonde wig she’d worn for the occasion. Along with the blonde wig, she’d put on more make-up than she was comfortable with and wore horn-rimmed sunglasses, black stretch leggings, and a jeans jacket over the tight pink V-neck shirt. Pink! She hated pink. It made her face look greenish-pale and clashed with her creamy caramel hair. But today she was in disguise. A rather stupid disguise for an even more stupid

endeavor. Rachel, good friend that she was, had tried to talk her out of her plans, but when Karen wouldn’t listen, she’d at least made sure Karen looked the part. As much as Karen normally hated pink, she had to admit it worked well with the platinum blonde hair and the heavy make-up. She looked stunning and nothing like herself. So, here she sat, in a table near the back of the restaurant, ignoring the appraising looks of the single men in the establishment. Their unwanted attention only served to make her more nervous and she lowered her head to study intensely the menu.

After her boyfriend Robert had told her two days ago he’d meet his hopefully soon-to-be ex-wife in Los Angeles, she’d been agonizing over the two of them meeting. She hadn’t been able to contain her jealousy and needed to lay eyes on his wife. Marcela. Now that she’d hopped onto a plane this morning and was actually sitting in a restaurant in LA, her nerves were running wild. The menu in her hand trembled like an aspen leaf and she feared spilling her soda if she tried to raise the glass to her mouth. To calm her nerves she imagined Marcela as a homely, dour-faced woman with at least one hundred pounds too

much on her hips. Nothing to be afraid of, right? What had seemed like a brilliant idea last night felt more like a stupid charade in the bright light of the day. That thriller you’ve been translating is getting to you. In the book, of course, the heroine wasn’t a translator spying on her businessman boyfriend and the nurse he was secretly married to. No, she was a trained undercover agent spying on a drug dealer and the corrupt high-ranking politician he was blackmailing. This is ridiculous, Karen. You should have never come here. Coming to her senses, she gathered her purse and was getting ready to leave when Robert

entered the restaurant. She ducked her head, afraid he might recognize her despite the disguise, and observed him on his way to a table on the opposite side of the restaurant from where she was sitting. His stride was slow and hesitant, and a small sense of relief relaxed her frayed nerves. At least he was nervous, too. He sat down with his side to her, giving her a clear view of the empty chair opposite to him. All thoughts of leaving had disappeared, and she stared at Robert. Anger about his actions flared up. He was the reason she was here, making a fool out of herself. How could he have betrayed her trust

with such a big lie? Three years. And during the entire time he’d been secretly married to that woman. They both should burn in hell for what they did. Yes, that would serve them right. Moments later a petite woman passed by Karen’s table and left a trace of a floral-fruity perfume with notes of orange and red currant in the air. Karen raised her head and mentally groaned when the woman took a course to Robert’s table. Oh my god. This can’t be Marcela. The woman was absolutely gorgeous. And apparently Karen wasn’t the only one to think that way, because as Marcela walked through the room, every

male eye followed the movement of her swaying hips. It was as if music was playing and they were keeping time. Her long shining black hair swung with every step and she wore simple tight jeans with a vibrant red shortsleeved shirt. The rounded décolleté showcased her breasts and even Karen had to admit they were perfect. Though the other woman was petite, she had the full curves only Latinas could truly pull off. Robert stood up to greet Marcela and Karen’s heart missed a beat when she noticed how her boyfriend let his eyes travel over the woman – who had once been his lover – and was clearly

impressed by her appearance. His appreciative gaze kindled Karen’s rage. When Marcela turned to kiss him on the cheek, Karen saw her expressive and shining brown eyes. Karen had to hold onto the table to prevent herself from jumping up and tearing Marcel’s eyes out. Or stabbing Robert with a steak knife. Or possibly both. How dare he! How dare she! This woman has stolen my boyfriend. She’s a relationship wrecker. Karen almost had to laugh out loud at how ridiculous her mental dialogue sounded. Marcela was Robert’s wife, therefore she wasn’t stealing anything

that she didn’t already own. Suddenly her throat was dry as dust and she lifted her glass to her lips, barely managing without spilling it, because her hands were trembling. Her pulse raced and she broke out in a cold sweat, this entire scene was so far out of her comfort zone, but for the life of her she couldn’t end it by simply getting up on her feet and walking away. She was glued to her chair, soaking up every sound or gesture she could catch. The fact that she could see them talking, but not hear what they were discussing, served to mortify her even more. Damn it. I can’t hear anything. I should have insisted on being seated in

a more central location. What if they reconciled? Shit, shit, shit. She just hated the way those two were looking at one another. Karen sat back, watching the interaction between the man she loved and the woman he was married to but hadn’t seen in over four years. She knew she needed to look away in order to protect herself, but found her willpower was missing where Robert was concerned. Watching them cut like a knife. And when the sound of Marcela’s laughter floated across the room, Karen wanted to die. Right there. On the spot. A growing discomfort settled in her chest and breathing became increasingly

more difficult. No way this was happening. Karen had been the one to insist he find his long-lost wife and gain a divorce decree, but never in a million years had she envisioned this scenario. Not one where Robert was happy to see Marcela. Nor vice versa. She closed her eyes, trying to block out the happy sound, praying this meeting wouldn’t last much longer. After all, she could only stand so much.

Chapter 2 Robert saw Marcela walk into the restaurant and swallowed hard. She was even more beautiful than he remembered her. When he noticed all of the other men in the restaurant ogling her while she walked towards him, he felt a spurt of jealousy that caught him by surprise. Where did that come from? He convinced himself it was simply because she was still legally his wife and he had a strong desire to protect her. He didn’t have feelings for her. Never

had. Their marriage had been a lie, based on his wanting to help her. Marcela seemed thrilled to see him again. She flashed him a bright smile and when he stood up to greet her, she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. And he liked it. Perhaps too much. “It’s good to see you again,” he said, pulling her chair out for her. “You too.” Her hands fidgeted with her purse, opening and closing the button with a metallic sound over and over again. “What would you like to drink?” The waitress had come up to them to take their orders.

As soon as the waitress had disappeared, Marcela started talking… and talking…and talking. He wanted to touch her hand to take some of the nervousness away, but that would be inappropriate. He’d come here to ask for a divorce, not to rekindle their intimacy. Unfortunately the woman sitting opposite to him was intensely sweet and sexy all at the same time – a mixture of sweet and caring girl with her obvious need for protection and the sexy body that had drawn him to her almost five years ago when he’d met her in a bar in Las Vegas. In the last five years, she’d grown from a scared girl to a woman and she’d

become even more beautiful because of it. In Las Vegas, she’d screamed “helpless damsel in distress” to him, and his fierce protective side – combined with enough alcohol – had caused him to suggest the not-so-brilliant idea of marrying her after one night of bliss. Shame rolled over him as he thought back to how stupid he’d been. Shame that transformed into guilt when he remembered lying to Karen for three long years because he hadn’t been man enough to tell her the truth. But to his utter confusion the guilt was washed over by hurt, then rage. Rage at Karen for not needing him enough. Pulling his thoughts back to the

present, he looked at Marcela and realized nothing had really changed over the last four years. She was still the pretty girl radiating the need for a protector. Which was exactly what he’d responded to back then. His first impulse had been to protect her, and even now, he found himself wanting to do everything in his power to keep her safe. He interrupted her nervous chatter with a question: “I heard you’re a nurse?” “I finished nursing school last year.” A proud smile crossed her face. “Since then I’m working as a registered nurse in the La Selva hospital around the corner.”

“Do you like your work?” he asked. A shine entered Marcela’s eyes and her nerves finally faded away. “I love it. That’s what I’ve always dreamt about. I like to help the people when they’re most vulnerable; it makes me feel… strong.” She became silent, as if the heavy burden of her tough teenage years suddenly weighed her down. “What are you doing?” she asked. “I’m the CIO of a tech company.” “CIO?” She crinkled her forehead and Robert had to laugh. Two worlds clashing. “Chief Information Officer. I run the IT department of a company in Silicon Valley. My job is to make sure all the

computer-related stuff in our company works and we have the right tools to develop new products.” “Oh.” She thought for a moment. “I’m sure the hospital has an IT department as well.” Marcela nodded and said, “Yes. We hate them. Maybe not as much as the accounting department. Whenever we want new equipment like an MRI or those sleek diagnostic computers they first have to evaluate if it fits the hospital strategy. And once they do, a month later the accounting department says we have no money.” Robert chuckled. “That’s a good description of my work.”

“How did you find me?” she asked. “I hired a private investigator to track you down.” “Why now?” she asked, biting her lower lip. He cleared his throat. This was the hard part he’d been replaying in his mind over and over, but still didn’t know how to say best. “Marcela, I… um…I’ve fallen in love. And, you know, I want to marry her. And I came here, because…I need a divorce from you.” Marcel looked at him for a full three seconds and then burst into silent tears, gripping his arm tightly. “Please, Robert. You cannot ask this of me. I will lose my green card if we divorce.”

Discomfort settled in Robert’s stomach in the face of her tears. He felt like everyone in the restaurant was staring at him, waiting for him to crush Marcela’s hopes and dreams. In an impulse he raised his had to scan the room, and found that no one was actually looking at them, save for the blonde with large horn-rimmed sunglasses sitting on the other side of the restaurant. There’s something awfully familiar about that woman. Before he could go down that mental path, Marcela tugged on his arm. “Do you really want me to return to my life of misery in Mexico? I don’t even have anyone left there. No family or friends.

No place to live. I’d be out on the streets. Is that what you want?” “Marcela, of course not. But you have to understand me as well.” He paused. How could he live with the guilt sendoff sending her back to a life on the streets and the possibility of her abusive and vengeful uncle finding her? Was his happiness more important than her physical safety? “We’ll figure something out. I promise. There’s got to be a way you can stay in the country and we can still get divorced. We just have to put our heads together and find it.” Her beeper went off and she immediately pulled herself together. “I have to go back to work.”

“I thought you were off today?” he asked, wondering if the private investigator had gotten it wrong. “I am, but I’m on call. They’re shortstaffed.” “How long will you be?” he asked, the unsolved situation between them pressing heavy onto his shoulders. “A couple hours. Perhaps two or three.” Robert frowned. “Why don’t we have dinner tonight? I’ll go check into my hotel in the meantime.” “Okay. That should work. How about 6 o’clock this evening?” Marcela suggested.

“Perfect. Come on, I’ll walk you across the street.” Robert paid and escorted her to the doors of the hospital, keeping a protective hand on her elbow as they crossed the busy street. He stopped at the steps of the hospital, unsure how to say good-bye. Thankfully Marcela was in a rush to get inside and ran off, waving in his direction. “I’ll see you in a few hours. Text me where.” He waited until she disappeared inside and then walked two blocks away to the hotel where he planned to stay until this situation was resolved. He wasn’t leaving Los Angeles until he could give Karen some good news.

Chapter 3 Karen blinked twice, but her vision was still dizzy. Sounds of hushed whispers reached her ears and she felt strangely displaced. A person was leaning over her, and she blinked again as she tried to piece together what had happened. “Ma’am, can you hear me?” She nodded slowly, a dull ache in her head preventing any rushed movement. “Good. Can you tell me your name?”

My name? “I…my…name…” “Do you know where you are?” Her mouth was dried up and no words came out. But then, what did would she tell him? Of course I know where I am. I am in … hell, yes, where am I? And why is this person asking me so many questions? Karen made as if to get up, but the man in the uniform gently held her down, “Do you know what happened?” Images flashed through her fried brain. Robert escorting a beautiful black-haired woman from a restaurant…L os Angeles…La Trattoria. He left. With Marcela.

Agitation hit her with the fractured images and her breathing sped up. The dizziness increased and her mind whirled as if it was stuck in a blender. A deep and calming male voice reached her brain. “Ma’am, please calm down. Someone already called 911.” Then the siren of an emergency vehicle filled her ears, the shrill sound threatening to splinter her head into a thousand pieces. “I want to get up,” she said to the man, grateful when he removed his hand and helped her sit up. Two paramedics entered the restaurant and Karen tried to calm her racing heart. Are they here because of me?

“What happened here?” the female paramedic asked. “This woman was sitting at the table next to mine and she got up to leave, but then she started sobbing and just collapsed to the ground. I think she passed out, but she won’t answer any of my questions.” “Thanks. I’ll take over.” The female medic squatted down. “Hey, can you tell me your name?” “Karen.” At least Karen now remembered her name, and more and more fragments of the earlier happenings appeared in her mind. “Hi, Karen. I’m Shelby and I’m going to check you out. Do you remember why

you were crying?” Karen shook her head. It was too embarrassing. Shelby checked her out and together with another paramedic loaded her onto a gurney while Karen let things passively happen to her as if she was a puppet on a string. Her brain, though, worked overtime and she replayed the earlier scene in the restaurant. Robert had left together with Marcela, his hand on her elbow and the other one resting on her lower back – the action so similar to how he’d always protected and guided Karen. Jealousy had transformed into anxiety and Karen had intended to go after them. But she suddenly hadn’t been able to breathe,

which caused her panic to increase tenfold. She had gasped for air like a fish out of the water, and her feet had frozen to the spot as she watched Robert disappear from her view, her heart racing, dark spots dancing before her eyes. A rushing noise had filled her ears, the overhead lights dimming, and next thing she remembered was a man leaning over her. When she was put into the back of an ambulance, she asked the paramedic, “Where are you taking me?” “To the hospital to get you checked out. You passed out. Has that ever happened to you before?”

“I don’t think so.” “Well, we’ll need to make sure it’s nothing serious.” “I’m fine. I just…I don’t really need to go to the hospital,” Karen protested. “Sorry, sweetie. Protocol. You passed out and didn’t answer most of my questions correctly. Have you been under a lot of stress recently?” “Yes.” “That’s probably it then.” “What is?” Karen asked. “Why you passed out. You’ve had a nervous breakdown and the only way your body could protect your mind and heart was to shut down. Temporarily. It’s

our body’s way of telling us enough is enough.” “You’re suggesting I’ve had a nervous breakdown?” Karen asked in confusion. “Possibly. They’ll check you for other things as well, but that’s what it sounds like to me.” Great. Just what I needed. They wheeled her into the emergency room, where a nurse prodded and pricked her. Karen was too weak to protest and let everything happen, strangely distant from her own body. They ran a basic blood panel, did a complete exam to make sure she hadn’t injured herself when she collapsed, and then called for

a psych consult. “Miss…” “Prescott.” “Miss Prescott,” the elderly doctor repeated, pulling a chair closer to her. “Can you tell me how you’re feeling right now?” “Horrible,” Karen replied without forethought. “Do you know what is causing you to feel this way?” he asked. Karen was quiet for a moment, silent tears running down her face as Robert’s hand on Marcela’s back came to mind. She nodded, her world nothing but a big mess.

“Miss Prescott, why are you crying?” the elderly doctor insisted, handing her a box of tissues. She gave the doctor the Cliff Notes version of her current struggle, and he listened patiently before he answered. “This is a lot to handle. And now your brain and heart need a break. You’ve suffered a severe breakdown and by passing out, your body is trying to get your attention. I’m going to prescribe a light sedative for you and I want to keep you here overnight for observation.” Karen merely nodded her assent. “Is there anyone I can call for you?” “No.” She swallowed back the tears forming. “I’m on vacation and don’t

have anyone in Los Angeles. I’m fine to go back to my hotel room.” “Sorry, Miss Prescott, but in your current agitated state, I cannot allow you to leave.” “For how long?” she asked, growing more agitated. “Until you can calm down. The nurse will take you up to your room and get you settled.” The nurse showed up and guided her to her room, made sure she was comfortably settled in her bed, and then made her drink some bitter-tasting liquid. Karen dozed off even before the nurse left the room.

A noise startled Karen awake and she jerked her head toward the sound, trying to remember where she was. Oh yes, hospital. L.A. The door was pushed open and a petite Latina with long shining black hair walked in with a tray of food in her hands. “Hey, you’re awake. I ordered you the club sandwich, but if you want something else, just let me know. My name’s Marcela.” Karen was buried under a wave of emotions. Her pulse ratcheted up and her palms were covered in cold sweat. If it weren’t for the remainders of the sedative still traveling through her system, she’d have freaked out or broken

down again. With a little effort Karen managed to keep up the appearance that everything was fine. “Thanks,” she murmured after Marcela pushed the hospital bed tray over her lap. “You are very welcome. Eat up and I’ll be back in a few,” the abhorred rival said with a warm and caring voice before she left the room. Only when the door closed behind Marcela’s back did Karen notice she’d been holding her breath. With a desperate inhalation she sagged back against the pillows, letting her tears slide down her cheeks. What a brilliant idea it had been to

follow Robert to Los Angeles and spy on him!

Chapter 4 Karen closed her eyes in an effort to push the images of the gorgeous woman who’d just left her room out of her mind, but it was impossible. With every breath her jealousy increased, until it transformed into anger. Anger at Marcela for existing. Anger at herself for being such a stupid sucker. But most of all, anger at Robert for doing this to her. How could he claim to love her if he caused her so much pain? She must have fallen asleep again,

because once again she woke at the sound of footsteps approaching her bed. She turned her head and opened her eyes to see the lovely Marcela smiling at her. “How are you feeling, Karen?” Marcela asked, making some notes on the chart hanging on the end of the bed. Karen scowled at her. “Fine, I guess.” Marcela ignored the unfriendly response and flashed a disarming smile. “I understand you gave the people over at the restaurant quite a scare.” How could Karen hate such a friendly and caring person? “Well, that’s what the paramedic told me.”

“Don’t you worry. The doc thinks you’ve just overtaxed your brain and it shut down on you. Nothing a good rest can’t heal. Do you want to talk about what made you so upset?” Karen frowned. In other circumstances she would have jumped at the opportunity to unload her burden on someone. “Could I get some water?” “Of course,” Marcela said. “How about some orange juice instead? Those vitamins really help to lighten your mood.” When Karen nodded, she gave her a small pat on the shoulder and headed for the doorway. “Be right back.” Marcela came back a moment later

with a cup of orange juice and several packages of crackers. “Here you go. You didn’t touch your meal. Would you like me to get you some soup?” Karen shook her head, unable to handle the friendliness of the woman she wanted to hate so much. As much as she longed to rail at her and demand she give Robert a divorce, doubts crippled her. What if Robert no longer wants a divorce? What if, now that he’s seen Marcela again, he wants to stay married to her? She felt the anxiety rising and Marcela picked up on it. “Karen, calm down. Whatever is causing you so much distress, it can’t hurt you now. You’re

safe here.” Karen’s eye widened. Safe? In the hands of the enemy? “It really does help to talk about these things. I promise you I’m a good listener,” Marcela said. Tears slipped from Karen’s eyes and she noticed the look of growing concern on the nurse’s face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. Can I get the doctor for you?” Karen shook her head. “No, please don’t.” She took the tissues the nurse offered and blew her nose, before taking a deep breath and giving her a shaky smile.

“I’m just…I saw my boyfriend with another woman and I can’t get it out of my head.” “Oh. That’s harrowing. No wonder you’re so upset.” Marcela appeared to be truly shocked. “I’d kill my boyfriend if he ever pulled something like that on me.” New hope filled Karen and she asked, “You have a boyfriend?” “No, I was speaking hypothetically.” “Oh.” A troubling thought crossed Karen’s mind. Did Marcela not have a boyfriend because she was pining for Robert? Flashes exploded in her head and she

had to close her eyes. “Do you think I could get something for my head?” “Is it hurting?” Marcela asked. “Yes. Maybe some aspirin or something?” “I’ll get you some pain medicine. Shall I turn the light down as well?” she asked, closing the blinds to keep out the bright sun. “That would be helpful. Thank you.” Karen needed the woman to leave her alone. Marcela’s niceness was starting to cloud her thinking. How could she like that deceitful bitch? But then, Marcela was nothing like Karen had imagined her and she didn’t appear to pose any imminent threat. Under

different circumstances they might even become friends. When the nurse had left, Karen sighed and allowed herself a moment to think. Suddenly she was swamped with shame. Her ears started burning when she imagined Robert finding out she’d followed him. She had to get back to Santa Clara as soon as possible. Pretending she’d never been in L.A. Spying on her boyfriend. Causing a scene. Messing up. Oh my god. Another wave of embarrassment rolled through her body. What if I’m in tomorrow’s newspaper? For the first time since her breakdown at La Trattoria she

consciously touched her hair. The wig was gone, as were the horn-rimmed sunglasses. God knew where her disguise had ended up, but she was actually glad to look like herself again. Karen rolled over onto her side, pretending to be asleep when Marcela returned ten minutes later. The nurse didn’t wake her, but moved quietly around the room, organizing things, putting something on her nightstand, and switching off the volume on the television completely. A phone beeped a moment later and beneath half-closed eyelids Karen observed Marcela checking her phone and typing a short text. Off course Karen

couldn’t know what the text had said or from whom it was, but it must have been rather disturbing. Karen almost felt sorry for her. A jolt visibly traveled through Marcela’s body and she started pacing the room, gesturing with her hands in the air. Then she began muttering to herself in Spanish, and while Karen didn’t understand every word, she understood enough to get the gist of what was happening. “Now Robert appears in my life … after four and a half years … and wants a divorce. What will I do? They will send me back to Mexico and my uncle will find me…he’ll torture me for his

revenge…I’m as good as dead. “My uncle will know the minute I cross the border and will send his people for me…he’ll never forgive me…I ran away from him…nobody crosses him…he told me many times when he came to my bed…the more I was terrified, the more he enjoyed it…I was only a child…and nobody protected me…everyone was afraid of him.” Karen had to dig her fingernails into her palms and press her lips together to keep quiet. From the fragments Karen understood and from the apparent terror in Marcela’s posture, this uncle must be a true monster. Marcela’s voice was trembling with despair as she whispered

her monologue into the dark room, not suspecting that the girlfriend of the very man who’d saved her five years ago by marrying her was eavesdropping on her misery. The nurse finally took several deep breaths, blew her nose, wiped her eyes, and then left the room to resume her nursing duties – leaving Karen alone with the shocking discovery. Karen had wanted to hate Robert’s wife. She wanted to find her nothing more than a conniving woman who had lied to get a free pass. What she’d found was so far from her wildest imaginings, it humbled her. Marcela had lived in a child’s worst nightmare, but she’d not

allowed it to break her spirit and she’d escaped. There was no way Karen could live with the guilt of Marcela’s being sent back to such a horrible existence. But if Robert remained married to Marcela, she couldn’t be with him. Karen felt more tears slip from her eyes as she realized she was caught between a rock and a hard place. She needed to make some decisions, and fast. Three lives and their happiness were held in the balance. God, why me? What am I going to do?

Chapter 5 Robert pocketed his phone again, pacing his hotel room. He didn’t know why, but immediately after checking into his hotel, he’d called Karen. Hearing her voice suddenly seemed important to him. But she didn’t answer and he didn’t leave a message. What should he say? Sorry, I can’t divorce my wife or I’ll be responsible for sending her back to a hell she barely escaped from? This sure wasn’t the good news Karen was waiting to hear from him. He

sighed and looked out his window, admiring the city view. The street down there was bustling with activity and while it was nice to watch, he was glad to live in tranquil Santa Clara and not here. He called the reception desk to ask for dinner recommendations and they answered that this neighborhood was deserted after office hours and the only places to go for dinner were La Trattoria or their own restaurant. After checking out the restaurant on the main level, he deemed it nice enough and sent Marcela a text message, giving her the name and address of his hotel. Her response came within seconds.

“Will be there at 6 p.m.” Robert used the remaining time to take a shower and try to come up with a solution for his dilemma. But his brain was fried. Shortly before the agreed time he took the elevator down to the hotel lobby to wait for Marcela. She arrived, her lips pressed to a thin line and after a short “Hello” he escorted her to the reserved table. “How was your afternoon?” he asked, scrutinizing her face. Her eyes were slightly puffy and her breath uneven. “Fine,” she said with a tight smile. Her earlier happiness at seeing him had faded away and he could sense her

worries. Instantly guilt settled in his chest. It seemed he was destined to hurt every woman he cared about. Karen. And now Marcela. It was only a matter of time before she’d start crying. “Did you give any more thought to granting me a divorce?” he asked, once their meals had arrived. Marcela paled and the food fell from her fork. “Why do you need a divorce now?” “I told you earlier. I’ve fallen in love with another woman and I need to be free to marry her.” Marcela was quiet for a moment and then murmured, “I don’t want to stand in the way of your happiness, I really

don’t. But I can’t go back to Mexico. I just can’t.” “I don’t want to see you hurt either,” Robert said, taking her hand. “So, what is to be done?” Marcela asked him on a note of despair. “Even if I wasn’t against being sent back to Mexico, once they found out our marriage was a sham, they might arrest you. You know they can do that.” “They don’t have to find out.” Robert wasn’t sure where the sudden confidence came from, but nobody had asked in almost five years. “Marriages end in divorce all the time.” When tears rolled down her cheeks, Robert felt lower than dirt. He turned his

chair and pulled her into his arms, smelling the fruity fragrance of her shampoo, the same fragrance she’d used several years ago. Maybe I should just try to be happy with her and forget about Karen? Marcela needs me and Karen is so selfreliant, she’ll get over it. But then he recalled those miserable weeks where they’d tried to make it work. It hadn’t worked then, and it most certainly wouldn’t work now. Marcela’s tears dried up and she moved in his arms, wiping her eyes. “Can I see a photo of your girlfriend?” “Why?”

“Because I want to see the woman who has stolen your heart. Something I couldn’t do.” She almost giggled when she said it. Robert shrugged and pulled his wallet out. He slid a picture of him and Karen, taken on a camping trip last year, across to her. Marcela picked up the photo and then paled as if she’d seen a ghost. “Marcela? What’s wrong?” Robert wanted to take the photo from her trembling hands, but she resisted. “This is your girlfriend?” she asked in a whisper. When Robert nodded, she shook her head, “Oh my god. Robert, I’m so sorry. She was admitted to the

hospital this afternoon.” “What? No. You must be mistaken, Karen is in Santa Clara.” “No, she’s not. I treated her myself this afternoon.” Marcela turned the picture in her trembling hands, slowly grasping the full dimensions of the events. Robert shook his head. “Now you’re inventing stuff. Karen didn’t come here with me.” “I’m telling you she’s in the hospital.” “Is she okay?” “I can’t discuss her medical conditions with you. You should know

that.” “I…I need to go see her.” Robert’s chest hurt. Could this day possibly become any worse than it already was? “I agree.” They jumped up and rushed past a very puzzled waiter whom Robert told to put the meals on the room bill. Marcela led the way from the hotel to the hospital, which was only a few blocks. They didn’t talk on the way, both lost in their own thoughts. Robert was scared – and angry. Why hadn’t she told him she was in Los Angeles? Had she been spying at him? And why? Didn’t she trust him? Apparently not, and perhaps she was

right. Who would trust a man who’d lied for three long years? He was just short of accepting that their relationship had been damaged too much by his actions for him to ever hope to fix it again. Still, they rushed up to the third floor, only to find Karen’s room empty. “Where is she?” Marcela looked worried, “I don’t know.” She headed for the nurse’s station. “Genevieve, do you know where the patient from room 316 is?” The charge nurse looked up. “She checked out. I tried to get her to wait until the doctor examined her again, but she was adamant. She signed the paperwork before she left.”

“Paperwork?” Robert inquired. The charge nurse explained, “She left against medical advice.” Then Robert heard the elevator doors at the end of the hall open and an older man dressed in a white coat walked toward them. “There’s the doctor now,” Genevieve said. Robert met the man in the hallway. “Doctor, about Karen Prescott.” “She’s gone. I was hoping to meet up with her in the hospital foyer, but no such luck.” “You look concerned,” Robert said. “I am. But she’s an adult and free to leave whenever she wants. There is

nothing I can do at this point.” “What’s wrong with her?” Robert shifted his weight from one foot to the other. The doctor looked him up and down, “And you are?” “Her…a…friend,” he finally finished. “I’m her friend.” “Well, friend – her medical condition is not something I can discuss with you.” “But…” “I’m sorry. HIPPA prevents me from discussing a patient’s condition with anyone other than the patient or someone they designate to me.” He gave Marcela a look and then excused himself: “I have

other patients to see.” Robert turned to her. “Now what?” “Now, we leave. I’m off-duty and don’t want to spend my time here if I’m not working.” “Let’s go back to the restaurant. We still need to eat dinner.” Marcela agreed and murmured, “‘I saw my boyfriend with another woman today.’” “What?” Robert asked. The full dimensions of the events dawned on Marcela. “This is all my fault,” she said. “How is this your fault?” he asked. “I was taking care of her and she was

so upset.” “Did she say about what?” Marcela nodded and repeated her words from moments before, “‘I saw my boyfriend with another woman.’ Jesus! The ambulance came from the restaurant La Trattoria, and she must have seen us leave together. That’s why she had the nervous breakdown. And then she saw me again in the hospital. No wonder she was upset.” Robert grabbed her arm. “Are you sure she recognized you?” “Given the shock in her eyes, yes.” More to herself she murmured, “I’m just glad she was already asleep when you texted me.”

“But she wouldn’t be able to read the text, would she?” Robert didn’t like the look on Marcela’s face. She blushed beneath his scrutiny and squirmed. “No, but I was perturbed.” She gave him an apologetic look. “She was asleep and I dropped my guard for a moment. I held a monologue about how miserably my life will end if you divorce me and I’m deported.” Now Robert was seriously out of his mind. Marcela touched his arm. “Don’t worry. I spoke Spanish to myself. She probably didn’t understand a single word.”

Chapter 6 Karen had waited until she was sure Marcela was no longer on duty. She got out of the bed and dressed in her earlier clothing, before she entered the bathroom to remove her smudged makeup. When the hallway was empty and only one nurse sat behind the counter, she approached the desk, hiding her emotions behind a façade of matter-offactness. “Excuse me?”

The nurse, whose nametag identified her as Genevieve, looked at her. “Yes, ma’am?” “I just wanted to let someone know I was leaving.” The face of the nurse grew concerned. “Ma’am, you need to wait to be discharged by the doctor.” “No, actually I don’t. I know there’s probably some form I need to sign, so just hand it over, I’ll sign it, and that lets you off the hook.” “I need to call the doctor…” “I’m not willing to wait, so you either give me the form to sign, or I walk away right now.” Karen was coming

across as a first-class bitch, but she didn’t care one bit. She needed to get back to Santa Clara and do some serious thinking. The prospect of seeing Marcela again was too much to bear and clouded her thoughts. The nurse reluctantly handed her the form, speaking in a frantic whisper into the phone while Karen signed the paperwork. “Thank you.” “Ma’am, please wait. The doctor is on his way up.” “I have no desire to see him. Good day.” Karen left, before anyone could hold her back, and exited the hospital a few minutes later. She wandered aimlessly through the streets of

downtown Los Angeles with the single thought in mind to put as much space between her and the hospital as possible. The entire trip to Los Angeles had been a disaster, and nothing had worked out the way she had envisioned. While getting dressed, she’d found the platinum blonde wig and the sunglasses stashed into her handbag and a fresh wave of guilt and shame had assailed her. How in the world could she have been so impulsive? She wasn’t a spymaster heroine from some thriller. No, she was simply a woman with a broken heart. This had to be the stupidest thing she’d ever done in her life. To make

matters worse, she realized she was completely lost. In her desperate attempt to run away from the troubling thoughts of Marcela and Robert she hadn’t paid much attention to her surroundings as she wandered the streets of downtown LA. Now she glanced around and noticed the graffiti-painted walls, the broken-down cars lining the streets, and suddenly realized she’d ended up in one of the crime-ridden areas of the city – those that were regularly featured in the news on TV. She cursed once more for being more stupid than what should be legally allowed, but quickly turned her anger toward Robert for putting her in this

position to begin with. Feeling scared and alone, she pulled out her shiny new iPhone and called her best friend Rachel. “Hello? Karen, where are you? I’ve been trying to reach you all day.” “My phone was off. I saw him, Rachel. With his wife. She’s beautiful, by the way.” “Karen…” “When he left with her, it was too much and I collapsed. They ended up taking me to the hospital for evaluation and the doctor said I had a nervous breakdown.” Her nerves got the better of her and she cried into the phone. The hair in her neck stood on end and her

sixth sense was blaring at her to get someplace safe. “Karen. Stop.” Rachel interrupted her. “Where are you?” “I don’t know.” She barely could speak between the sobs. “I walked out the hospital and got lost. This place doesn’t feel safe. I’m scared, Rachel.” She wished herself back to Santa Clara. At least she knew her way around that city, and Santa Clara wasn’t dangerous like L.A. could be. “Honey. Calm down. Find a taxi and have them take you to the airport. Just take the next plane home. Text me and I pick you up, okay?” “I will,” Karen promised her. “I’m

going to turn around and retrace my steps until I find a cab. Thanks, Rachel.” “Always, honey. Just get back here safe, okay?” “I will.” Karen disconnected the call and turned around, only to see two young men leaning against a nearby building, leering at her. They both wore dark jeans, leather jackets, and black knitted caps and instead of belts they used chains. Gang members. Karen ducked her head and attempted to cross the street, but they cut her off. “Where ya going, sweetheart? You came down here looking for some action?” the taller of the two guys asked, grabbing his crotch in an obscene

gesture. “No. I was walking and got lost, but I can find my way back.” She attempted to turn around in an attempt to walk away, her heart thundering in her throat. Out of nowhere his partner in crime stood behind her like a wall, blocking her exit. She was inches away from his badsmelling breath and her stomach turned. Every exposed patch of skin on his arms, neck, and chest was covered in tattoos and she estimated the number of piercings in his face to be more than she could count on her hands. “Excuse me,” she said, hoping he wouldn’t notice the tremor in her voice and would actually step aside.

“No, sweetie, I don’t think I will. Why don’t you hand over that phone and your wallet and I’ll think about letting you out of our territory in one piece. It would be a shame. Such a pretty face.” He touched something on his hip, which Karen recognized as a long knife. Karen’s body was trembling so hard she had difficulties standing. She frantically looked around, but there was no one else on the street. She was on her own. The other guy grabbed her chin and forced her to look into his cold and cruel eyes. “I’m getting a bit impatient here. You need another invitation?” Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw the butt of a

gun sticking out of his waistband, and hastily said, “Please, I just want to go home.” He released her chin and Karen handed over her phone and her wallet. The tattooed guy opened her wallet and then smiled a sadistic smile, “Well, seeing as how you’ve been so generous, I’ll return the favor. Go.” Karen stood there in shock, wondering if this was a trick. Even if she had wanted, she couldn’t move. Her feet were frozen in place. “Did you hear me?” he asked menacingly. Karen nodded and slowly backed away from him, not daring to present

him with her back. When she didn’t go fast enough, the other one pulled out his gun and waved it at her. “Need a little incentive?” “No! Please, I’m going.” Karen turned and ran as fast as her legs would carry her, expecting to feel the sting of bullets any minute, but all she heard was the blood rushing through her ears and the obnoxious laughter of her muggers in the background. She ran two blocks before she stumbled and fell to the sidewalk. It was all too much for her fragile nervous system to handle, so she simply sat on the curb, pulling her knees up to her chest, and sobbed. Her options were

limited. If she went back to the hospital, they’d probably lock her up and throw away the key. That is, if she ever found her way out of this labyrinth of streets. Running from her muggers had destroyed her last bit of orientation and she had no idea which direction to go from here. Karen knew she was panicking, and yet a part of her was so calm, it was scary. Probably the effect of the sedatives they gave me in the hospital. I must still be drugged up. She huddled on the sidewalk, lost and alone and unable to think what her next move should be. This time she couldn’t even call Rachel for help and comfort.

Chapter 7 Robert clenched his jaw, “Karen is a Spanish translator.” Marcela’s face fell. “Jesus. If she understood everything I said, she must have freaked out. Oh, Robert, she wasn’t in a good frame of mind when I met her at the hospital, but after she heard my complaining, she probably was on the verge of another nervous breakdown. That’s why she left the hospital. It was all too much for her. And she was afraid to have to see me

again.” Robert swallowed hard. “We need to find her.” “But where?” Marcela’s eyes watered. “I’m so sorry, I never wanted this.” Robert didn’t have the time or patience to console Marcela; his first priority was to find Karen, to make sure she was safe. He pulled out his phone and tried to call her, but it rang several times until the voicemail picked up. On a whim, he placed a call to Rachel. “Rachel, Robert here. I’m trying to get ahold of Karen.” “She’s not here right now.” The

answer was distant. Rachel probably was still furious at him for lying to her best friend. “Look, I don’t have time to explain everything, but I need you to tell me if she’s in L.A.” When Rachel didn’t answer, he added, “She might be in danger and I need to find her.” “You don’t have to worry. I spoke to her about an hour ago and she promised me she was on the way to the airport. She’s going to text me with her flight information any minute.” “Are you sure?” Robert asked, worry still evident in his voice. “Yes. I’ll let you know the minute I hear from her.”

Robert hung up and relayed the information to Marcela. “Something doesn’t feel right here.” “Why don’t you come to my place while you wait for a call back? I don’t live far from here and the walk will give you a chance to calm down.” He hadn’t even listened to her suggestion, but nodded his agreement anyway and gestured for her to lead the way. During the short walk he tormented himself with pictures of Karen wandering the streets in mental derangement. When they arrived at the building where she lived, he looked up for a short moment, puzzled. “Where are we

going?” Marcela rolled her eyes. “This is where I live.” Robert still wasn’t exactly sure why they’d ended up here, but he decided to follow her. Right now he wasn’t capable of thinking clearly; his mind was fogged by worry, pain and anger. The more he replayed the happenings of the day in his head, the more he blamed Karen for the mess she’d gotten them into. Why wouldn’t she listen to the doctor and stay at the hospital? Why had she come to Los Angeles in the first place? The whole endeavor was ridiculous and irresponsible at best. “Come in,” Marcela said and he

followed her into the small apartment she called home. The living room was small and cheaply furnished, but homey. With her limited means, she’d made the place a real home. A brightly colored patchwork blanket adorned the couch, and a bookshelf in the corner held mainly medical books. He counted three doors. One in the hallway, which probably led to the bathroom, and two in the living room. One door stood open offering a view into the tidy kitchen, and he assumed the second one was the bedroom door. Robert sat down on the couch, while Marcela disappeared into the kitchen to prepare hot tea for them. But he couldn’t

sit still for long and stood again to pace the room. He glanced at his phone every few seconds – willing it to ring. “Come sit down and stop pacing.” Marcela held two mugs with steaming hot tea in her hands. He nodded and sat down on the end of the couch. She handed him one of the mugs and sat besides him. Robert withdrew once again from the real world, images of the day replaying in his mind. Marcela had touched something deep within his soul, and he didn’t know what it was. Normally, he wasn’t prone to rash actions. Not like offering someone marriage after knowing them for less

than twelve hours. His mind wandered to the past and he could see her big brown eyes looking at him. They had been so full of pain – and hope. Hope for a better future. She’d come to the United States because she needed a better life, away from her abusive uncle. Her eyes had told him the whole story, the things she hadn’t said with words. The unbelievable horrors she’d gone through, but also the unwavering will to come out winning. Below her soft and helpless looks was a will of steel. That’s what had impressed him and made him extend the unusual offer. They’d both known it was wrong.

And this was one of the reasons their relationship had never worked out. Because they both knew it was built on need and not on love. He had secretly hated her for taking advantage of him and he believed she’d secretly hated him for making her feel like she needed a man to save her. It was complicated, and Robert’s head started hurting from overthinking things. He wished he could switch off his brain, just for a few minutes. A deep sigh escaped his throat and when he felt a small hand on his arm, he had no idea, to whom it might belong. He looked up into the most beautiful brown eyes, filled with worry and

compassion. His palms cupped her face and time disappeared. Something snapped in his head, and he was back in Las Vegas, with the beautiful woman who’d drawn him in from the first moment he sat eyes on her in that bar. The attraction between them flared up. She must have felt it too, because she nuzzled her face against his palms. Almost automatically his thumb caressed her smooth skin, long-forgotten emotions rising to the surface. He kissed her lips, soft at first, then more demanding. She opened her lips for him and he captured her sigh in his mouth, his tongue sliding between her lips, tasting her sweet taste, mixed with tea. Marcela

pressed herself against him, taking everything he offered and giving back the same pleasure. When they had to come up for breath, her eyes had darkened and the expression in them moved him to tears. “Did you know you were the first man to ever give me an orgasm?” she said, her scent filling his nostrils. “What?” he asked, confusion marring his features. “Yes, before I met you, I never understood why people liked sex so much. I hated it.” Her confession took him by surprise. She’d been so confident and wild during

their first night. “That’s just wrong. You were made to be loved. Your body is every man’s dream and giving you pleasure is so satisfying.” He pulled Marcela against his chest and started to kiss a path down her neck and her collarbone. She moaned and writhed against him, while his hands traveled down her back and up her sides again. They frantically kissed each other, driven by the need to forget. Her hands reached around his neck and she pressed him harder against her. Then she moved around and straddled him, pressing him against the backrest of the couch. He cupped her breasts in his palms, while she tugged at

his shirt and slipped her hands beneath it. He groaned as her hands traveled up his stomach onto his chest. Oh my god, this woman is hot. Without giving it a second thought, Robert took off his shirt and then divested Marcela of hers. He unclasped her bra and took a moment to admire her lush breasts.

Chapter 8 Karen didn’t know how long she had been sitting on the curb crying. Meanwhile the sun had gone down and a chill was in the air. But she didn’t notice. Lost in her misery she hadn’t seen the man until he was two steps away from her, towering over her. She glanced up and felt her heart racing again, blood rushing through her ears. The man, in his twenties, had the same rugged appearance as her muggers.

In the dimly lit street she couldn’t discern his facial features, but “Danger” was written all over his presence. He wore the same dark jeans, black leather jacket, black skullcap, and chains around his hips instead of a belt, like the two guys from before. The distinctive bulge in his front pocket looked awfully like a weapon. The only difference from the guys before was the insignia on the sleeves of his jacket. Before she could get up and run away from him, he took another step toward her and asked, “Are you okay?” His voice sounded more worried than menacing, but Karen still expected him to pull out that knife and mug her.

Panic settled in her brain. She didn’t have anything left of value to give him and feared what he would do when he found out. She kept staring at him, afraid to answer his question. He tried again, this time in Spanish. “Estás bien?” For a short moment she caught a glimpse into his brown eyes, and strangely enough, his expression reassured her that he didn’t pose any threat to her. “I’m fine. I just want to be left alone.” She turned her back on him. “Do you need help?” he asked, walking around her.

“No. I told you, I’m fine.” “This isn’t a good place for a woman to be alone. Especially at night.” Karen had no idea what time it was, but darkness had settled in and she assumed it had to be around eight. “Just go away, please?” He threw her a measuring glance and hesitantly walked a little distance away. Karen turned her back to him, trying to come up with a plan. She didn’t even know in which direction to walk. For what it was worth, all she wanted was to sit here and be left alone. Her body and mind were drained, every decision too much to take. She didn’t have to, because moments

later she heard the scuff of shoes behind her again and turned to see the young man had returned. “Lady, I can’t leave you out here all alone. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you.” Karen gave a snort of laughter, laced with derision. They way he looked, he was just one more criminal like those who had mugged her earlier. And he was worried about something happening to her? It didn’t make any sense. He squatted down and pierced her with his dark brown eyes. A sudden warmth and a feeling of safety spread through her body as she immersed herself in his stare. It was a caring look without any trace of malice. In the next

moment he reached out a hand to pull her up and she willingly accepted it. He pulled her to her feet and even though his appearance and demeanor exuded danger, she somehow knew she could trust him. But what confused the heck out of her was that she was attracted to him. She held onto his hand for a moment longer than needed to take in his strength and the heat radiating from him. The sense of danger. The depths of his brown eyes. His muscled physique. “Lady, where can I take you? Do you have someplace you should be?” “My phone and wallet were stolen.” She turned and gestured down the block,

“I wandered down there and these two guys…” She stopped and then shrugged. He frowned. “Maybe the police?” she said. The man shook his head. “I can’t go there, sorry. I can take you about any place else, but not to the cops.” Karen shivered in the cool night air and he noticed it. “You’re cold.” “Yes.” “Here, take that.” He took off his leather jacket and hung it around her shoulders. Karen’s mouth fell open. The jacket smelled like him, with a hint of tobacco, and her head swirled with everything that had happened today.

“I really need to go to the police.” “Not happening. I can’t take you there. By the way, I’m Fernando.” “Great.” Karen knew she sounded rude, but now that she had a plan, she needed to follow it. Find the police. She turned and stomped off down the street, having no idea of where she was headed. She got maybe twenty yards before Fernando caught up with her, “Hey, lady. Wait up. What do you think you’re doing?” Karen glared daggers at him. “Going to the police, of course.” He chuckled. “Missy, the way I see

it, you can either come with me and stay safe or go on your own and maybe not survive this night.” “Are you serious?” Karen shouted. “Dead serious. I told you this area is not a place for a beautiful woman like you. And I don’t even know why I care. Except for the fact you’re still wearing my jacket.” His grin sent hot and cold shivers up her spine. Maybe he told the truth and she should go with him? Rachel! She must be sick with worry by now. I should have called her with my flight information hours ago. “Okay. No police. But can I at least use your phone?” Karen asked.

Fernando looked at her suspiciously, but after a moment, he pulled a shiny new iPhone from his pocket. He held it aloft and then told her, “Give me the number and I’ll dial it for you.” Karen rolled her eyes at him, but obediently rattled off Rachel’s number. While he dialed she wondered how someone like him could afford a new iPhone. Those things cost hundreds. Did he acquire this one the same way her phone got a new owner? He waited until the call started ringing before handing her the phone. Rachel answered on the second ring. “Karen? Where in the hell are you? I’ve been worried to death!”

“I’m fine. I couldn’t get to the airport because…” She paused, seeing Fernando making a gesture to cut the call short. He frowned at her and a shiver of fear ran down her back. “I have to go, but I’ll call you again as soon as I can. Don’t worry about me.” When Fernando took a step towards her, she quickly ended the call and held the phone out to him. “Here. Thanks.” “Good girl,” he said and grinned at her, and this time, she totally freaked out.

Chapter 9 Robert devoured Marcela’s gorgeous full breasts with his eyes before he dipped his head, intending to pay homage to them with his lips and tongue. But in the very moment he touched her tender skin with his lips, Karen’s image crossed his mind and he realized what he was doing. He hastily backed away from Marcela, averting his eyes – appalled by what he had done, and had almost finished. Stupid idiot. How could you

do that? “My God, what are we doing? This is wrong. This cannot happen.” He reached for his discarded shirt and hastily pulled it back on. Then he tossed Marcela her bra and blouse with a terse, “Get dressed.” She was flushed and seemed to be as ashamed of their actions as he was. “Robert, I…” “I better leave.” Marcela wrestled with the clasp of her bra and turned away from him. “Yes.” He spared her one more glance and then stalked from the apartment with a

turmoil of emotions rushing around in his brain. Back in his hotel room, he huffed out a breath as he looked out over the city lights, his mind a jumbled mess. He still needed to talk to Marcela about the divorce, but that would have to happen tomorrow. And he needed to find somewhere or someplace to have the conversation where they wouldn’t have a repeat of this evening. Shame flushed him and his ears burnt. He probably looked like a signal post. God, I’m a piece of shit. I can’t believe I kissed Marcela. He paced the length of the room, continuing to berate himself for his

actions. Doubts filled his mind. Was Karen even the right woman for him? If he could be swayed so easily, what did that say about him? By the time he finished his lecture, he was mired in loathing and self-hate. He glanced at his phone when it chimed, seeing the calendar reminder of his meeting tomorrow with the divorce lawyer whom Trevor Armstrong had found him. The lawyer specialized in immigration and multinational marriages, and seemed to think there was a good chance of getting out of the marriage without either Robert or Marcela suffering any dire consequences.

Robert tucked his phone away, opened the mini bar, and pulled out a bottle of brandy. As he poured it over ice, he thought about the two women in his life. He remembered the frantic, passionate sex with Marcela back in Las Vegas. Some of the things he’d done with her he’d never done with another woman since then. Kinky stuff he would never suggest to Karen. She was a good girl, and good girls didn’t do such things. It had never occurred to him that he’d actually missed this part of his sex life. But now, after meeting Marcela again, he realized keeping his marriage a secret

had also involved keeping that part of himself hidden away – mostly from himself. Robert hadn’t wanted to remember Marcela, because then he would have had to admit how much he liked the dirty things they’d done together. And he didn’t want to tell Karen and run the risk of her looking at him like he was a pervert or something. Not with Karen. She meant too much to him. Those thoughts got him to worrying about her again. Where is she? He pulled out his phone and dialed her number again. When a male voice answered and told him rudely to stop calling, he almost dropped the phone.

“I want to talk to Karen. Right now.” “Yeah, we all have wants. And right now, she’s verrry occupied. Besides, she doesn’t want to talk to you, so fuck off!” The man laughed evilly into the phone amidst a bunch of crude words that caused Robert to blanch. Robert stared at his phone, trying to figure out what had just happened. Some guy just answered Karen’s phone. And she doesn’t want to talk to me? Out of his mind with worry, he called Peter, even though it was almost midnight. “Robert? Why are you calling me so late?” Peter’s voice sounded worried.

“Has Rachel heard back from Karen yet?” “Yes. She called and said she wasn’t going to make it to the airport tonight. Rachel said she sounded scared and kept the call short.” “Man, something’s not right.” Robert mentioned the man who’d just answered Karen’s phone. “Are you sure you called the right number?” Peter asked. Robert coughed. “I have her on speed dial.” “There’s probably a perfectly rational explanation.” “No. Something’s off. I just know it.”

Robert ran a hand through his hair. “Why don’t you send her a text?” Peter suggested. “I might.” With these words, Robert ended the call, grabbed his wallet, and headed for the lobby of the hotel. He grabbed a taxi and fifteen minutes later he was standing in front of a police desk, being told he couldn’t file a missing person report until at least twenty-four hours had passed. “You have to be kidding me! My girlfriend doesn’t know her way around this city. And she checked herself out of the hospital, while she was under the influence of the drugs they’d given her.”

“Look, sir. She’s an adult and free to leave, even if the doctor said she was in a state of shock.” “Well, can’t you go look for her? She shouldn’t be wandering around out there by herself.” Robert paused before he said, “I tried to call her and a very rude man answered her phone, telling me to fuck off.” “Sir.” The officer took a deep breath before he continued in his monotone voice, and Robert had the feeling the officer was trying to hold back his amusement. “That probably means she’s found someone else. I know that’s hard to swallow, but it’s definitely not a

reason to call the police. Cheating happens every day in this city.” “No, you don’t understand. Karen isn’t like that.” She’s not like me, who almost had sex with the woman I came here to divorce. She’s faithful and loyal. “Can’t you please just send a cruiser to look for her?” “Sir, I’m sorry, but we have real emergencies to tend to. I suggest you get a good night’s sleep and then talk things out with your girl tomorrow.” The officer picked up the ringing phone, efficiently dismissing Robert. Robert returned to the hotel, sick with worry and hating himself for causing this mess in the first place.

Karen, baby. God, I wish I knew you were safe.

Chapter 10 Karen was trembling like an aspen leave. The signs of anxiety rose and she feared she might pass out again – into the arms of a stranger who probably wanted nothing but to harm her. She’d just sent off the only person who knew her whereabouts. Rachel probably was cuddling with her husband, in the comforting knowledge Karen was safe, when in reality she was completely at the mercy of this stranger. If only Robert knew I’m here, I could

go to him for help. The thought of Robert made her angry again, which was a lot better than being panic-stricken. She channeled all her anxiety into cursing him for getting her into this situation, and soon she felt like she was getting a grip on herself again. She glanced up at Fernando, who’d been patiently waiting for her to resolve her inner conflicts and now flashed her his most reassuring grin. “What’s your name, lady?” Behind the ruggedness of his face, Karen glimpsed a flash of caring in his eyes and decided she didn’t have any better option than to trust him. “Karen.” “Cari ñ a.” Jesus. Did that man have

the gall to flirt with her? “It’s Ka-ren,” she said. His smile broadened and she could feel the heat radiating from him. “Cariña suits you much better.” In another life, she might have thrown herself into his arms, but she was a good girl; she didn’t fall for the bad boys. And his obvious charms were absolutely lost on her. “What now?” she asked, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “It’s too late tonight to get you to the airport, but I can get you someplace safe. Let’s go.” When Karen didn’t move, he said,

“Better to get moving than run into trouble, Cariña.” Then he grabbed her hand and started walking, giving her no choice but to follow along behind him if she didn’t want her shoulder dislocated. Fernando didn’t release her hand, even as she fell in step beside him. He moved like a panther on the prowl, and she couldn’t resist stealing glances at him. She couldn’t see his hair under the knitted cap, but it probably had the same black color as his bushy eyebrows. Together with the olive skin and the five-day scrub on his chin, it gave him a dark and brooding look. But it was his mouth that appealed most to her. His full lips seemed so sensual and soft, and

every time he smiled, his whole face changed. She had trusted him solely on the expression of his smile reaching his warm brown eyes, and she prayed to God that her knowledge of human nature hadn’t betrayed her. Glancing down his arm to the hand that still held hers, Karen suddenly thought about how crazy this situation was and almost laughed out loud. She should have listened to Rachel and never have left Santa Clara. Then she’d be sitting at home with her best friend, watching a movie, instead of being dragged around some not-so-friendly place in Los Angeles by a man who was amazingly kind – and attractive – despite

his appearance to the contrary. She only hoped to live long enough to return to Santa Clara and tell the tale. They walked for about five minutes, in complete silence, when Fernando stopped and cursed in Spanish. “¡Joder!” Karen was too absorbed in her thoughts to perceive her surroundings and hadn’t realized he was stopping. She kept moving forward until he yanked on her arm, pulling her back against him. The impact, as her back collided with his muscled chest and abs, threw her completely off balance – physically and mentally. A hard object that felt suspiciously like a handgun dug into her

hip and crudely reminded her of reality. “What…” “Quiet!” he whispered above her head. She looked up and saw three guys coming toward them. Fernando pulled her behind his back and squared his shoulders, his legs firmly on the ground, hip-width apart. He exchanged several less than pleasant words with them, and while they spoke a heavy slang, Karen’s Spanish was good enough to understand most of it. Those three guys belonged to a feuding gang, and Karen feared she’d come out of the frying pan and into the fire.

“What you have there?” The tallest guy, who apparently was their leader, asked. “None of your business, cabrón.” Fernando answered. The group of three took several steps forward, like a wall zooming in, and Karen clung onto Fernando like he was her lifeline – which he probably was. “This is our street. Give me the girl and I let you go, maricón,” the other guy said. Karen dug her fingers into Fernando’s back. Please don’t let him give me to them. Please. Fernando took a step back, pushing

her backward with his body. He whispered to her in English, “See that dumpster over there?” Ever so faintly, she replied, “Yes.” “Hide behind it and don’t come out until I say so.” With that command given, he shoved her away from him at the same time as he lunged forward. Karen ran for the dumpster as all hell broke loose. Even though she heard the grunts of fists making contact with flesh, she didn’t dare turn around and look. She crawled behind the dumpster, closing her mind to whatever else might be lurking back there. With her hands firmly pressed over her ears, to block out the sounds of the fight, she huddled

in the dirt, chanting over and over again in her head: Please let Fernando be okay. Please.

Chapter 11 After only a few minutes, Karen couldn’t stand the suspense anymore. She edged forward behind the dumpster until she was able to see at least part of the action taking place, while staying hidden. The hard object she’d thought was a gun turned out to be a knife. Fernando handled it as if it were an extension of his arm. He tossed it back and forth, daring the three thugs to come at him.

The first guy entered the fight. He and Fernando circled each other, keeping their respective knifes firmly in hand, while the other two cheered on their comrade. Karen’s breath hitched and her heart missed a beat, when the first guy attacked Fernando out of the blue. But he apparently had seen it coming, because he quickly sidestepped his opponent and sliced his knife across first guy’s stomach, before he turned on his heel and kicked him in the ribs. The second guy obviously had waited for this very moment to attack Fernando. At the same time, when the first guy [if you’re using these as names it should be “First Guy”]collapsed to the

ground with a bang and a scream of pain, the second guy drew a knife from his pocket and charged Fernando. From what Karen could see, the first guy had decided to keep out of the fray and crawled to the sideline. The second guy wasn’t nearly as skilled with the use of his knife. He stabbed at Fernando, and shortly found himself empty-handed, with Fernando delivering a brutal blow to his ribs with a closed fist. The second guy doubled over on the ground, leaving only the group leader. Karen gasped when she saw the leader draw an immensely long knife from behind his back. Fernando was slightly staggering and Karen saw the satisfied

smile on the leader’s face. God, please don’t let him kill Fernando. A chill crept up her spine and suddenly she feared more for his safety than for hers. She closed her eyes for a moment to ready herself to come out from her hiding and intervene in the fight, when she heard swear words and then a sudden silence. Her heart thundering in her ears, she slowly opened her eyes and saw the leader helping the first guy to his feet, and between them picking up the second and fleeing the scene. In the distance the sound of a police siren faded. From her hideout she couldn’t see Fernando and, scared to death, she

didn’t wait for him to call but crawled out to find him. He stood in the middle of the street, upright, but heaving like a tree in a storm. His t-shirt was covered in blood. “You’re hurt. You need to go to the hospital.” “No hospitals,” he said, staggering. Karen wrapped an arm around his waist to steady him. He was losing lots of blood, and any reasonable person would seek out medical attention right away. “You need help.” “It’s nothing,” he responded and tried a grin, but it looked more like a grimace. “Nothing? You’ve been stabbed with

a knife, for God’s sake!” Karen said, exasperated. “Let me at least bring you home.” “Can’t go home. Too far. And they’ll be waiting there with reinforcements.” “Please, let me get you to the hospital?” “No. They’ll call the cops.” “Then where? You need help,” she pleaded with him. “There’s a community center around the corner. We’ll go there.” He staggered in that direction. “Are they open this late?” “No.” He said nothing else, and Karen didn’t ask. She used all of her

energy to help him in staying upright and moving forward. When they reached the center, it was indeed closed, but Fernando picked the lock within a few seconds. “Open,” he said, the pain apparent in his voice. Once inside, he collapsed to the floor and Karen knelt down besides him. “Fernando, give me your phone.” “Why?” “Why? So I can call an ambulance for you.” The shrill sound of her own voice hurt in her ears. The whole situation was absurd. “No.” His breathing became heavier by the minute. Karen wasn’t an expert,

but she knew quite well he was in a dire condition. “Why not?” Despite her best efforts to remain calm it came out as a shriek. “Because they’ll call the police. No police. No ambulance.” “Fernando, we need to stop the bleeding. Is there a first aid kit around here or something else I can use?” Karen stood to have a look around and then realized he wasn’t answering her. Covered in cold sweat she turned around to face him. “Fernando?” He was watching her with pain-filled eyes, and for a moment, she considered running away. But she couldn’t leave him here to die; he’d gotten injured

protecting her. Now it was her turn to help him. They were in this together, as unlikely as it seemed. She took a deep breath and searched her brain for the remnants of her first aid class many years ago. I have to stop the bleeding. “Take off your shirt.” Fernando responded to her request with a weak grin and a murmured, “I knew you want me.” “You wish, hero.” Karen had to smile and a burden fell from her shoulders. “If you can still flirt, you’re doing better than I thought.” She knelt down and helped him work his shirt off, inspecting the wound and realizing that while it was bleeding a

lot, it wasn’t actually all that deep. The knife had stabbed him at a very flat angle, leaving a flesh wound at the side of his chest. Despite the seriousness of the situation, Karen couldn’t help but admire his gorgeous body. He was pure muscle from neck to waist. His abs formed visible six-packs and his pecs looked like they were chiseled in stone. Add to that his natural tanned skin and the sexy black chest hair and he was the full package. Guys with a hot body like that usually didn’t appear in real life, save on her Facebook newsfeed wearing nothing but a fire hat, or catcher’s mitt. Her stomach dipped and flipped as

she became aware of the lust-filled stare he sent her way. I can’t believe I’m drooling over a guy who’s bleeding to death – and who’s a criminal. Karen bit her upper lip, trying to concentrate at the task at hand. Put pressure on the wound. Yep, that’s what the first aid instructor had said. But with what? She looked around and the only suitable object was his shirt, dirty as it was. She rolled up his shirt and pressed it onto the wound, but her efforts were futile. Fernando was getting worse with each passing minute and beat of his heart. The t-shirt was soon soaked with blood and he started shivering. His face

was ghostly white even beneath his olive skin, and she thought he might be going into shock. “Fernando, do you know of a doctor to call?” “Nah … not until morning.” “You don’t have until morning. You’re still bleeding. A lot.” Karen imagined the worst. And she sure as hell didn’t want to be found beside a dead body the next morning inside the community center they’d broken into. That would mean a hell of a lot explaining to the police. Why didn’t I stay in the hospital? The hospital! Marcela. Of course, this was the solution. But how could she

convince Marcela to help? And how could she contact her? No, the idea was ridiculous. The only way to contact Marcela was to call Robert. And then he’d know Karen had followed him to Los Angeles to spy on him. Embarrassment flushed her entire body. She was still pondering her options when Fernando made a sound that sent ice cruising through her veins. He was a mere shadow of his former self and his glorious body seemed to shrivel before her eyes. “Cariña.” “Fernando, you’re going to die if help doesn’t come soon.” He blinked in agreement. “I know a nurse. She works at the La

Selva hospital. She’ll help us.” I hope this won’t turn out to be a lie. “Phone in pocket.” Karen gingerly removed the phone from Fernando’s front pants pocket, this time concentrating on the task and not on his hot body, and dialed Robert’s cell phone number. As she waited for the call to connect, she thought about the irony. Life sure had strange ways. The same woman who might eventually destroy any chance Karen and Robert had at happiness was at the moment her only source of help. ***

The story of Karen and Robert continues in book 3. Coming soon….. CLICK HERE to get an email reminder as soon as it's released. Or Pre-order on Amazon right now. Have you read Rachel and Peter’s story yet? You can download book 1 for FREE here: Falling for Him Book 1

Read on for a preview of Power of Love, the story of Trevor Armstrong and Nicole Kendrick.

Thank you for taking the time to read Karen and Robert, Book 1. If you enjoyed it, please consider telling your friends or posting a short review. Word of mouth is an author’s best friend. Thank you,

Please enjoy a preview of the story of Trevor and Nicole

POWER OF LOVE The Armstrongs, Book 1 Jessica Gray

Preview Power of Love Sometimes Trevor Armstrong hated his job. It was a sentiment that made him question why he’d gone into law to begin with. The courtroom was slowly emptying out, the conversations fading away, leaving an unsettling quiet behind. He was beginning to hate this particular courtroom, as the only cases he ever mitigated inside it were marriage dissolutions! Tamping down his irritation, he

gathered up his paperwork and tapped it on the wooden table a few times to align the edges of the papers together. He stuck them inside the manila folder with the name of his client emblazoned in red across the top tab, and put the folder inside his opened briefcase. Closing the brown leather case, he lifted his head up to see his latest client, the ex-Mrs. Cecilia Patton, watching him with a calculating gleam in her eyes. He smiled at her, trying to maintain his professional façade for a few moments longer. “Mrs. Patton, congratulations.” His voice lacked any enthusiasm, despite the fact that he’d just won a major commission for his firm.

The blonde bombshell gushed her thanks a little more profusely, stepping close enough to lay an elegant hand with fire-engine red nails against the stark white of his dress shirt and bright yellow of his tie. “No, thank you! I can’t tell you how much I appreciate how well you handled Dennis. Without you, I’d probably be out on the street right now!” And looking for another sucker to marry and divorce! Trevor kept that observation to himself, backing up a step and making it look as if he’d been allowing her to precede him from the courtroom. “All in a day’s work. Can I walk you out?” Mrs. Patton batted her eyes at him

and gave him a smile that was more enticement than it was appropriate. She was the worst type of client; the longer he stayed in her presence, the dirtier he felt. Making short work of the walk towards the exit of the justice center, he excused himself at the men’s restroom, in dire need of ending his association with Mrs. Patton and trying to salvage what was left of this day. He saw the opposing counsel as he exited the restroom, and schooled his features into a normal mien, not giving any indication whether or not he was happy he’d just won his client nearly $35 million of her ex-husband’s money. “Trevor, you

realize the only reason you won was because of a technicality?” the man he’d just faced across the courtroom asked. Trevor inclined his head. He liked the opposing lawyer, but he wasn’t in the mood to talk to him today. And this was business. “I followed the letter of the law. Persons under the age of twenty-one in this state cannot enter into legally binding agreements of any kind without a parent’s or guardian’s signature. Mr. Patton should have been more diligent and allowed his legal team to more thoroughly research the woman he chose to marry.” At the time Cecilia Patton had signed the prenuptial agreement, she’d been

three days away from her twenty-first birthday. This detail made her signature invalid on the prenuptial agreement, but perfectly legal on their marriage license. The only exception to the age restriction was for marriage, which allowed persons upon reaching the age of eighteen to marry whomever they wanted without a parent’s or guardian’s cooperation. The law was confusing, and not something that most people would even think to research, but it was on the books, and therefore, enforceable. Mrs. Patton had received half of her exhusband’s money on a technicality, even though the prenuptial had said she’d get

next to nothing if the marriage lasted less than five years or failed to produce a male heir. The marriage had lasted sixteen months, and Cecilia Patton took fertility shots, not wanting to chance losing her youthful figure by becoming pregnant! He had discovered the age discrepancy, shutting down the court case and winning for his client. The decision left no room for a counterdefense. He’d won, so why wasn’t he happy? It was a shallow victory at best. Another marriage flushed down the toilet. He headed towards the rear entrance and his vehicle. He knew that the front

entrance would contain numerous reporters waiting to question and congratulate him on his latest win, and he simply didn’t have the heart for it today. They’d come to his office to pester him there, but his secretary would take care of it. She was very good at shielding him from unwanted intruders. She’d give a press release and soon the reporters would be bored waiting for him – off to the next sensation. If there was one thing he hated even more than awful clients, it was those reporters. He was disappointed with the idea of love, and after days like today, he wondered if it was anything more than a

fantasy. In his work as a divorce lawyer, he saw failed marriages every day. His clients weren’t the happy couples one saw on television, or in advertisements, they were real people, hurting and hating the person they had once professed undying love for. Most of the time he did his best to find the good in them. He tried to see things from their perspective, and that strategy worked about half the time. The other half fell into the same category as today’s client. Cecilia Patton was not a nice person. She wasn’t even the injured party. She was an awful fortune-seeker who had used her ex-husband’s desire, to spend the rest of his life happily

spending his fortune on his beautiful young wife, against him in the most heinous way. As he pushed through the glass door at the rear entrance of the courthouse, he shook himself, taking a breath of fresh air to rid himself of the last few hours. Cecilia Patton had gotten her divorce, and her money. She’d also attempted to lure him into becoming the next notch on her bedpost, but Trevor had absolutely no interest in her or her type of woman. Trevor had a hard and fast rule about sleeping with clients. He didn’t do it! Ever! It would only bring trouble. He knew his good looks were viewed as a challenge by some members

of the female population, especially some of his clients like Cecilia Patton, but he detested being viewed like a piece of meat on the market of available men. Sure, he worked out – a lot. But not to impress women; no, it was because he liked being in shape. And as a highprofile lawyer he always had to look impeccable. He kept his appearance neat, allowing his dark hair to grow just long enough to touch the top of his collar, but never any longer. His dark blue eyes were framed by thick dark lashes that more than one woman had lamented didn’t belong on a man. And at his core, he was a gentleman. A fact that

many women tried to use against him. He wasn’t looking for love, or anything even close to resembling the emotion. He worked too much. He used the little free time he had to visit the gym or play squash with his buddies, and any remaining hours in his week were spent with his family. As he entered his vehicle, his thoughts drifted to his younger brother Dean. Dean had just recently found the love of his life, and Trevor found himself skeptical at first. After meeting Melissa, though, he’d changed his opinion. Dean and Melissa looked at each other with such affection; it was plain to see they were made for each

other. They complimented each other perfectly, in every way! Trevor was happy for his brother, he really was. But he wasn’t expecting to ever find that kind of relationship for himself. He saw so many broken relationships in his everyday life; a love like Dean’s and Melissa’s only happened once in a blue moon. No! He was perfectly happy with the way his life was going. He had a small collection of women who would go out with him, knowing that nothing serious or exclusive was part of the deal. And given his current workload, the last thing on his mind was finding a woman to spend the rest of his life with. In fact,

she didn’t exist, and he was fine with that. He activated the hands-free car kit with the words “Call Ryan.” He just loved that little technical toy. It allowed him to use the driving time in his car for work. Then he waited for his brother Ryan to pick up. Ryan was an artist who worked with precious metals – gold, to be specific. He made and sold his own jewelry, and together they were working on a special surprise for Dean’s engagement. “Hey, how’s it going?” he asked Ryan, not having to identify himself as he knew Ryan had a specific ring tone for each of his siblings. All seven of them!

“Trevor, are you finished with court for the day?” “Yeah. I won.” “Do I congratulate you? Shouldn’t you sound a tad bit happier?” “No, it’s fine. Just a lousy client who worked the legal system to take her husband for a cool $35 million for sixteen months of so-so sex and no loyalty.” “Whoa there, bro! You’re sounding jaded. I never understood why you went in for law. And divorce law of all things!” They’d had this discussion many times. Ryan loved all things beautiful.

Gold, precious metals, gemstones, diamonds. That was why he had chosen his career as goldsmith and jeweler, to make the world a more beautiful place. At least, that was his explanation. Trevor believed it was because it gave him the opportunity to hook up with many beautiful women. Anyhow, Trevor wasn’t up to discussing his career choice today and changed the topic. “I was calling to see when you wanted to get together and finish the design for Dean’s engagement present. You know Mom will not sit on this very long before she takes over and plans the entire thing.” Ryan laughed. “Well, planning was

kind of her thing while we were growing up. I think she misses it, and Melissa and Dean are giving her the perfect opportunity to come out of retirement. She doesn’t get many opportunities to have us all gathered under the same roof these days, and knowing Mom, she won’t let this chance pass her by. “As far as schedules go, we could meet Thursday. I have to finish up a diamond necklace with matching earrings, but after that I’ve got plenty of time to get the piece for Dean designed and constructed.” “Great! How about Thursday morning before work? I’ve got a easy schedule for the rest of the week.”

“That sounds good. How about I meet you at the gym and we play a few games of squash before we put our creative juices to work? I haven’t had a chance to best you in weeks.” “As if you can! Bring it on, bro. I’ll meet you at the gym and give you an opportunity to back up those words with your sweat and tears. When I beat your ass, you’re buying.” “Deal. See you Thursday.” Trevor disconnected the call, only to have it ring back immediately, “Yeah? Calling to call off the challenge?” he asked, assuming the caller was Ryan. “Uh, Trevor? It’s Blaine.”

He laughed. “Sorry about that. I thought you were Ryan calling back. What’s up?” “I heard you won the Patton case and was just getting ready to head out. Want to meet at Charlie’s for a drink before you do?” “Sure. I was just sitting in my vehicle before heading out. I’ll meet you on the north side of the building. There’s no way I’m going back into the building. I don’t have it in me to deal with reporters today.” Blaine chuckled. “Copy that. Okay, see you in a few.” Trevor disconnected the phone once again and then slid back out of his

vehicle. A drink would be welcome, and then he could head home and hopefully get a good night’s sleep. (End of Sneak Peak) To continue reading, get the book here: POWER OF LOVE

More Books by Jessica

You can find an up to date list of all my books here: http://www.jessicagraybooks.com/myb The Armstrong and Love in Sandy Beach books can be read as stand alones. For more enjoyment, read them in series order. Characters carry on from one book to the next and from one series

to the next The Falling for Him Series is best read in order. Books 1 through 5 have cliffhangers. The rest of the books don’t.

THE ARMSTRONGS Power of Love - (Trevor and Nicole) Forever my Love - (Ryan and Kendra) Daring to Love (Evan and Charlene) Surprised by Love (Douglas and Toni) Travel, Live, Love (Patrick and Angela)

Explosion of Love (Samantha and Grant) LOVE IN SANDY BEACH Momentous Kisses (Allison and Russell) Billionaire Kisses (Reese and Nikos) Turbulent Kisses (Chase and Pearl) Determined Kisses (Ethan and Hazel) Resounding Kisses (Terrence and Ivy) FALLING FOR HIM Book 1: Rachel and Peter

Book 2: Rachel and Peter in Spain Book 3: Rachel and Peter back home Book 4: Lara and David Book 5: Rachel and Peter - The Wedding Stubborn Love – (Clara and Nigel) Christmas Miracle – (Rachel and Peter) I Love You Twice – (Melissa and Dean) More Books by Jessica Entangled Love

Contact Jessica Sign up for Jessica’s newsletter to be the first one to know about a new release. http://www.jessicagraybooks.com/new I truly appreciate you taking the time to read (and enjoy) my books. And I'd be thrilled to hear from you! If you'd like to get in touch with me you can do so via Twitter: http://twitter.com/author_jessica

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