Free Book Excerpts

A contemporary story about renewal of the human spirit and finding the courage to love again. Does he have what it takes to set her phoenix heart free?

Excerpt

BETH GAZED out the window of the limousine at the rain-drenched streets of downtown Portland. There was something about Oregon’s ‘City of Roses’ at night that appealed to her, especially around the holidays. It was two days after Thanksgiving, but Christmas had already made its appearance with the arrival of the seventy-foot Douglas fir at Pioneer Courthouse Square. She was looking forward to seeing the tree decked out in its hundreds of white lights. She could tolerate the man sitting next to her that much longer, she told herself, glancing at him from the corner of her vision.
Ian Heller, a plastic surgeon from Chicago, his eyes glassy and an unhealthy ruddiness to his plump cheeks from several gin and tonics, winked at her. “What do you say we skip the scenic tour and finish our business in my hotel room?”
Beth had to admit his offer didn’t surprise her. Though he’d seemed genuinely interested in her work with burn victims at Derma Definitions, and had been cordial over dinner, a voice in the back of her head had told her Dr. Ian Heller was no more interested in seeing Christmas lights than she was in visiting his hotel room. But she’d wanted to give Dr. Rivers’ colleague the benefit of the doubt.
So much for professional courtesy.
She was about to tell the good doctor what he could do with his suggestion when his clammy fingers slid under the hem of her wool skirt and clamped onto her thigh. Drawing a startled gasp, Beth slapped his hand away and slid to the forward seat.
“Touch me again,” she said coldly, “and I’ll break your hand.”
“Is everything all right?” the chauffeur asked through the open partition directly behind her.
Beth’s heart thudded, once. The man who’d introduced himself moments earlier as Tyler Stone had a voice as deep and lush as the velvet interior of his fancy car. When he’d emerged from the sleek, white limousine, his garrison cap pulled low over his eyes, his black uniform emphasizing long legs and broad shoulders, Beth had stared. Now there’s trouble, she remembered thinking for no apparent reason.
She slanted Ian a frown. At the moment, Tyler Stone was the least of her worries. Swallowing against the tight anger lodged in her throat, she addressed the driver. “I’d like you to drop me off at the nearest light-rail station, please.”
Tyler Stone brought the car to a stop at a red light. He turned and Beth got her first good look at his eyes, a flash of burnished steel in the bright lights of a shop on the corner. They were a sharp contrast to his short, coal black hair and slashed brows. Experienced. Shrewd. As if he can read my every thought. Beth felt a flush of heat that lingered, even as he looked away.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, and the car started moving again.
Beth breathed a sigh of relief and settled back in the seat. It was a beautiful car, plush burgundy upholstery, polished oak accents, a sunroof, cellular phone, television, DVD and God only knew what else. Too bad I’m not going to have time to enjoy it.
She made herself look at the man sitting across from her. “It’s been an interesting evening,” she told him, “but this is where I get out.”
Ian had the audacity to look hurt. Under different circumstances his protruding lower lip might have been comical.
“The evening’s young yet. Where will you go?” he asked.
“Home. Alone.” Beth repositioned her black felt tam on her head, snugged the front of her belted wool jacket, and muttered, “While I still have some dignity intact.”
“But, honey–”
“I am not your honey!” Bile rose in Beth’s throat. Dr. Rivers is definitely going to hear about this! Her hand went to her side for her purse, but it wasn’t there. She’d left it on the seat next to Ian in her haste to escape his grope. She reached for it and the doctor grabbed her wrist.
“Not so fast,” he said, his voice thick.
Fear jagged through Beth, settled like a drum beat in her ears. “Let go of me,” she stated, trying desperately to control the sudden quaver in her voice.
Instead, the doctor yanked on her wrist. Beth gave an involuntary yelp and landed on the floor at his feet. She felt the carpet tear her hose, the burn of abraded skin on her knees.
“We have unfinished business.” Ian pushed his face close to hers.
His breath reeked of soured alcohol. He’d apparently had a lot more to drink than Beth had realized. His fingers dug into her wrist, but she resisted the impulse to fight his hold, knowing she was no match against his strength. But, oh, how she hated his arrogant attempt to control the situation. To control her. Her stomach plunged sickeningly as it all came back to her–the explosive moods, the threats, the humiliation.
And with the memory came cold, calculating rage. Not this time. Never again. Then her friend Samantha’s advice raced through her head. Confuse your attacker. It could buy you time to get free.
Beth decided if it worked for a woman who moonlighted as a nightclub bouncer, sometimes ejecting disorderly patrons twice her size, it was worth a try. She drew in a steadying breath, met Ian’s drunken gaze, and smiled. It felt stiff and unnatural, as if her face would crack from the effort, but amazingly the doctor’s grip loosened. Beth silently counted to three and jerked her arm back.
But instead of breaking free, as she’d hoped, the doctor retightened his hold. The momentum of her arm caused him to lurch toward her. Acting on reflex, Beth slammed the heel of her free hand into his face.
Ian let out a curdling howl. The limousine skidded to a halt and the doctor shot from the seat and landed on top of Beth, pinning her to the floor.
She struggled to breathe beneath his considerable girth. “Get off me you son of–”
A gust of cold air brushed her legs and the weight lifted as Ian Heller was pulled from the car.
“What the–” he sputtered, trying to get his feet under him. He landed on his rump on the wet pavement between two parked cars.
Tyler Stone braced his legs and hoisted the doctor to his feet as if he were no more than a bag of hot air. Ian jerked free. His nose was bleeding. From the floor of the limousine, Beth watched the two men face off at the edge of the road in the pouring rain, the street lamp spotlighting them as though they were on stage.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Ian raged. “You were paid to chauffeur, not chaperone!”
“Then act like a man instead of an irresponsible ass.”
The chauffeur’s voice was as hard as the look in his eyes and a shudder rippled through Beth. As much as Ian Heller may have deserved it, she hoped he wasn’t stupid enough to physically attack the tall man in black. Something in the way Mr. Stone carried himself told her he had been in his share of fights. And he was used to winning.
Not that she’d been any easier on the good doctor.
Ian chose that moment to lift a hand to his upper lip. “I’m bleeding!” He looked from the red stain on his fingers to Beth. “You little bitch!”
He took a lunging step toward the car, but Tyler had anticipated the man’s move and slammed the door shut.
Heller whirled on him, angry indignation contorting his features. Tyler tasted metal and realized he was grinding the fillings in his teeth. He’d met men like Heller before. Self-important. Egotistical. Crude. He stood his ground, almost wishing the man would take a swing at him. Nobody talked to one of his passengers that way. And nobody manhandled a woman in the back of his limousine. He eyed Heller’s bloodied nose and resisted a smirk. Even if that woman is capable of defending herself.
He had to admit he wouldn’t have expected it of the petite woman he’d escorted to the limo. With legs that made a man look twice, he’d thought Elizabeth Heart alluringly delicate in her neat wool suit, her little cap barely containing a fire-storm of red-gold hair, her small chin held high. She’d almost made him forget about the rain slicker he’d left home, or the fact that Dan O’Connor, his relief driver, was supposed to have taken this job tonight.
Apparently Heller had misread the woman as well. Tyler studied the paunchy little man’s combative stance and cursed Dan’s timing. “You going to do it, or not?” he asked impatiently.
Uncertainty flicked across Heller’s expression. “You’ve got no right tossing me out like that.”
“It’s my car.”
“Dr. Rivers will hear about this. You can expect him to demand a full refund.”
“He won’t have to,” Tyler said, relieved the threat was gone. He’d never enjoyed settling matters with his fists, even when it had been the only way. “I’ll have his money in the mail by morning.”
A small group of passers-by had gathered on the sidewalk a few feet away to gawk. Tyler pulled a white handkerchief from his hip pocket and thrust it at Heller, causing him to flinch. “Clean yourself up.”
The doctor snatched the handkerchief and pressed it to his nose. “How the hell am I supposed to get back to my hotel?”
Tyler reached into his trouser pocket, pulled out a quarter and flipped it in Heller’s direction. “Call a cab.”
Heller caught the coin, his fingers forming a fist around it, and for an instant Tyler thought he might have to fight the man after all.
Then the doctor jammed the quarter in the pocket of his suit jacket and said, “You’re a sorry son of a bitch, you know that?”
Tyler gave a smile that held no humor. “I’ve been called worse.” Mostly by his own father, but that was none of this man’s business.
Heller stepped up onto the sidewalk and mumbled a parting four-letter suggestion of what Tyler could do to himself. Tyler chose to ignore it.
With the doctor’s departure, the gawkers began to disperse. Some looked disappointed that the argument had ended without a single blow. Tyler tipped his head back and closed his eyes, letting the rain pelt his face. His uniform was soaked, he’d lost a paying client, and his land-yacht of a car was blocking traffic. A perfect evening to match the perfect afternoon he’d had arguing with his daughter. Combing his fingers through his wet hair, he skirted the limo and got in.
The fragrance of roses embraced him immediately. He caught a glimpse of fire and gold in the rearview mirror and realized Ms. Heart had returned to the forward seat. Her face shone pale in the dome light, her green eyes stark. A small diamond stud winked from one ear. Tyler pulled his door shut, throwing the interior of the car in shadow.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Oh, I’m just great.”
Tyler heard the unsteadiness beneath her sharp tone. “Do you need a doctor?”
His lovely passenger gave an inelegant snort. “I’ve had my fill of doctors for one evening, thank you.”
The remark brought a rueful smile to Tyler’s lips. “You and me both, lady.” He eased the big car into the flow of traffic. He’d told himself it was none of his business, but couldn’t stop from saying, “I hope this guy wasn’t a friend of yours.”
“No. He was no friend.”
Beth leaned back in the seat and hugged herself as the city lights funneled away from her through the smoked rear window. She suddenly couldn’t seem to get warm. She made to smooth her hair and discovered her tam was gone. She reached down and searched the shadowed floor. As her fingers touched the soft felt, a truck pulled up behind the limousine, its headlights flooding the back so that Beth could clearly see the rip in her hose and the rug burn on her right knee. A moan of angry frustration rose in her throat. How could I have been so gullible?
“What is it?” the chauffeur asked.
The alarm in his voice only intensified Beth’s humiliation. I’m 31, for God’s sake! I know better….
The car stopped and Tyler Stone turned. “What’s wrong?” he demanded.
“The creep ruined my nylons.” Angry tears pressed at the backs of her eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
She hadn’t expected him to understand, but when she met his gaze in the lights of the truck still behind them, she saw the sympathy in his burnished eyes gone soft. Kindness. In spite of her earlier premonition about the man, she realized she felt safe with him. A lump swelled in her throat.
“You handled yourself pretty good back there,” he said, his voice low and velvet-edged.
Beth swallowed hard and tried to smile, but couldn’t quite. “Have you been in many fights, Mr. Stone?”
“Call me Tyler. I’ve been in enough.”
“Then maybe you can tell me how to stop shaking.”
Something dark flicked across his expression, but his tone was gentle as he advised, “Take deep breaths. It’ll pass.”
The truck honked to let them know the light had changed. Tyler faced front and they were moving again. “Where do you live?”
“Just drop me off at the Square.”
“I can’t do that.”
Beth massaged the growing ache in her temple. “Then the nearest bus stop.”
“I’m not going to dump you on some street corner and ruin what’s left of my evening worrying about you.”
The curtness in his response drew her gaze again. In spite of the muscle that clenched in his jaw, he had a fascinating face. There was a deceiving innocence to his firm, sensual mouth and the way his straight nose tipped up almost imperceptibly at the end. Deceiving because she’d seen the passion in his anger. He was a man used to having things his way. And right now, his anger was directed at her. Yet, oddly, she wasn’t frightened.
“Why would you worry about me?” she asked quietly, and was surprised at his muttered oath.
“Not all of us are like Heller.”
Us, meaning men. Beth understood then and felt it tug at her conscience. He was trying to help her, trying to be chivalrous, and she hadn’t even bothered to thank him. A wry smile tugged at her mouth. Chivalry. Tyler Stone and his white ’steed’ had come to her rescue. If she hadn’t been so tired, she might have laughed at the whole crazy situation.
She gave him her address in the northeast Hollywood district and let the velvety interior of the car pull her into its warmth. Definitely more comfortable than the city bus.
“I’m grateful for your help,” she said. “And I’ll reimburse you if Dr. Rivers demands a refund.”
“I don’t want your money, ma’am.”
“What will your employer say to that?”
“You’re looking at him.”
She hadn’t been, but did now. Heat jagged through her and she looked away. “I don’t want to feel I owe you.”
Tyler wondered if it was just him she didn’t want to be indebted to, or men in general. “You don’t owe me a thing.”
Long seconds passed before he heard her soft, “Thank you.”
The difficulty she had saying it had him guessing it was more than tonight’s scrape with Heller that had taught her not to trust. He found himself wanting to know more about the woman behind the tough front.
But time, it would seem, wasn’t on his side as she extended her arm through the privacy window and pointed to a house on the right.
“It’s that one with Santa in front.”
A single-level brick house, like its neighbor on either side, sat tucked against the base of a low butte. Multi-colored Christmas lights framed a covered porch, and a three-foot tall Santa, his illuminated colors faded, stood sentry at the steps. The limousine dwarfed the red Geo and compact pickup parked side by side in front of the wide, two-story garage. A dog, a big one by the sound of it, barked from somewhere in back.
It was still raining hard. Tyler grabbed the umbrella from the floor and got out to open the rear door of the limo. Considering he was already soaked, he didn’t bother with his cap.
Expanding the umbrella, he took Elizabeth Heart’s hand to help her from the car. It was small and cool and trembled in his and touched some deep need in him to protect. She stood regarding him with those wide green eyes, her hair disheveled and her stockings torn, and he wanted to pull her into his arms and tell her nobody would ever hurt her again.
“I’ll walk you to the door,” he said.
She drew her hand back, tucking it quickly in the pocket of her short jacket. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll be fine. Thank you again for the ride.”
It came easier this time, as though she’d decided he didn’t pose a threat. Tyler was glad of that much at least. “It was my pleasure, Ms. Heart.”
Amusement crinkled the corners of her eyes. “It was a hell of an evening, wasn’t it?”
Tyler chuckled and pushed his fingers through his hair again. “Yes, ma’am, it was that.”
“Well…good night, Tyler.” She turned and walked toward the house.
Her belted jacket flared over her slim, rounded hips. Tyler watched their provocative sway, convinced she was unconscious of the effect. He continued to stand beside the limousine long after she’d produced a key and let herself in. His hair lay flat against his head and rivulets of water coursed down his face. He was wet to the skin. But he wasn’t cold. Far from it. He felt like he’d been pushed from an airplane without a chute, smack into the middle of a monsoon, and his blood was pumping hard.
Maybe it was her hair, like fire. Or the sound of her voice when she said his name, like aged wine, mellow and potent. Or the smell of her, like sweet, rain-soaked roses, that made him feel as if he’d suddenly lost control of his senses.
No. It’s her smile, he decided. He had the feeling she didn’t do it often, at least toward a man she’d just met.
The porch light went off, then the Christmas lights and Santa, and Tyler realized she’d probably been watching him from the window. Probably wondering why he was still standing out there like a fool. A wet fool, at that.
Good question.
He climbed into the limousine. He should have been upset over losing a fare, but he wasn’t. Meeting the lovely, enigmatic Elizabeth Heart had made the evening worth every penny.
As he backed the long car out of her driveway, he found himself regretting the fact that he’d probably never see her again.
***
“DAD, IS THAT you?”
“Yeah, baby,” Tyler answered, coming into the room.
Holly had her long legs curled under her on the couch and was watching TV in her pajamas, a bowl of popcorn on the cushion beside her.
Hardly a baby anymore, Tyler mused. Hell, she’s almost as tall as me and wears a 34B. But as long as she let him, he would continue to use the nickname he’d given her the day he’d brought her home from the hospital. Has it really been almost eighteen years?
His daughter sat up, her long, coffee-colored hair a tangle of curls, mild surprise in her dark eyes. “You’re home early. Did your client cancel?”
“Not exactly.” Tyler shrugged loose of his wet jacket, then on a weary sigh admitted, “I threw him out.”
Holly’s eyes widened. “What happened?”
Tyler dropped onto the other end of the old tweed couch. While he pulled his soggy shoes and socks off, he filled his daughter in on his evening.
When he got to the part where his lovely lady passenger had given Dr. Heller a bloody nose, Holly’s jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack.” Tyler put his bare feet on the coffee table. His toes were wrinkled and white with cold. He laid his head back and closed his eyes.
“You forgot your slicker again, didn’t you?”
Tyler’s answering grunt was humorless.
“Have some popcorn.” He heard Holly scoot the bowl closer. “It’ll make you feel better.”
Tyler rolled his head and peered at her through a slitted eye. “Is this your dinner?”
“Nooo.”
Tyler’s gaze sharpened. He was too tired for any more sarcasm tonight.
“I had some of that leftover spaghetti,” Holly relented on an exaggerated sigh.
“Good.” Tyler felt guilty that he couldn’t always have dinner with his daughter. It was one of the disadvantages of being self-employed. Getting ahead meant long hours, even with Dan working for him part-time.
He helped her finish the popcorn and watched the last of the news. More rain was forecast for tomorrow. The college brochures were on the coffee table where he’d left them, untouched. Apparently nothing he’d said to her that afternoon had gotten through. After the sports report, he clicked off the television.
“So, have you given any more thought to what we discussed earlier?” he asked.
Holly cast him a self-suffering look. “I discussed, you yelled.”
“Holly–”
But she didn’t wait for him to finish. “How can I decide which college to go to when I don’t know what I want to major in?”
Tyler had heard the argument before. “There are a lot of opportunities in the medical field,” he suggested, for what must have been the hundredth time. He couldn’t help it. He liked the sound of Holly Louise Stone, M.D. Although after meeting Dr. Heller tonight, maybe he’d push for dentistry instead. It occurred to him that he didn’t know what Elizabeth Heart did for a living. She’d said Dr. Heller wasn’t a friend. Did that mean they were connected professionally?
“Maybe I’ll be a rocket scientist,” Holly grumbled.
“You’d make a good one.”
“Dad–”
“I know,” he interrupted, his smile bland, “you were just kidding.” He caught and held her gaze. “But I’m not. You’re smart enough to be anything you want.”
“But I don’t know what I want! Why do I have to decide now? Why can’t I just get a job, like you did?”
Tyler clamped down hard on his impatience. “We’ve been over this before, Holly. Grandma Lou left you that money so you could go to college and do better.”
The fact that he had dropped out of school his senior year wasn’t something he was proud of, even if his motives had been honorable. He had a pretty good idea where he’d have ended up if he hadn’t made the decision to claim responsibility for his baby daughter, if he’d allowed Holly’s mother to put their child up for adoption. Probably a jail cell somewhere, instead of the house his mother had been raised in. He’d been a seventeen-year-old delinquent with an attitude problem and parents who didn’t care.
“But you’ve got your own business now,” Holly argued. “You did fine without going to college.”
“I got lucky. And I worked a lot of crummy jobs for minimum wage. I don’t want that for you.”
“You can’t protect me forever, Dad.”
“Maybe not,” Tyler replied, the edge to his voice softening, “but I can see that you get the education you need to take care of yourself.”
Once again, he found himself thinking of Elizabeth, wondering if her knowledge of self-defense had been instinct or learned. He tempered the unbidden anger that shot through him. A woman shouldn’t have to use force to tell a man she wasn’t interested.
He looked at Holly. What would she have done in a situation like that? The fact that he didn’t know settled uneasy in his stomach. Maybe he should teach his daughter some of the things he’d learned on the street. But some of the things he’d learned, he hoped she never found out about.
“Actually, I was thinking of waitressing at the Meatmarket Restaurant,” Holly commented in an off-handed tone.
“Over my dead body!”
His daughter shot him a mischievous smile. “Honestly, Dad, you have no sense of humor.”

Read more about Her Phoenix Heart and Cindy Hiday HERE.

Copyright 2008 Cindy Hiday. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.