Read Love's Last Chance Online

Authors: Jean C. Joachim

Tags: #womens fiction, #contemporary romance, #hollywood love story, #contemporary womens fiction, #hollywood romance, #contemporary love story, #movie star romance, #movie star love story

Love's Last Chance

 

LOVE’S LAST CHANCE
Hollywood Hearts 5

 

 

Jean C. Joachim

 

 

 

Contemporary Romance

 

 

Moonlight Books

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A
Moonlight Books Novel

Sensual Romance

 

Love’s Last Chance

Copyright © 2013 Jean C. Joachim

E-book ISBN
978-1-62622-809-2

 

First E-book Publication: August 2013

 

Cover design by Dawné Dominique

Edited by Tabitha Bower

Proofread by Carolyn Gibbs

All cover art and logo copyright © 2015 by
Moonlight Books

 

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This literary
work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any
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or in part, without express written permission.

 

All characters and events in this book are
fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is
strictly coincidental.

 

PUBLISHER

Moonlight Books

Dedication

 

For JM, wherever you are.

 

Other books by Jean C. Joachim

FIRST & TEN SERIES

GRIFF MONTGOMERY, QUARTERBACK

BUDDY CARRUTHERS, WIDE RECEIVER

PETE SEBASTIAN, COACH

DEVON DRAKE, CORNERBACK

THE MANHATTAN DINNER CLUB

RESCUE MY HEART

SEDUCING HIS HEART

SHINE YOUR LOVE ON ME

TO LOVE OR NOT TO LOVE

HOLLYWOOD HEARTS SERIES

IF I LOVED YOU

RED CARPET ROMANCE

MEMORIES OF LOVE

MOVIE LOVERS

LOVE’S LAST CHANCE

LOVERS & LIARS

His Leading Lady (Series Starter)

NOW AND FOREVER SERIES

NOW AND FOREVER 1, A LOVE STORY

NOW AND FOREVER 1, THE BOOK OF DANNY

NOW AND FOREVER 3, BLIND LOVE

NOW AND FOREVER 4, THE RENOVATED HEART

NOW AND FOREVER 5, LOVE’S JOURNEY

NOW AND FOREVER, CALLIE’S STORY(series
starter)

MOONLIGHT SERIES

SUNNY DAYS, MOONLIT NIGHTS

APRIL’S KISS IN THE MOONLIGHT

UNDER THE MIDNIGHT MOON

SHORT STORY

SWEET LOVE REMEMBERED

 

 

LOVE’S LAST CHANCE
Hollywood Hearts, 5

 

Chapter One

 

 

LAX airport

 

Dorrie ducked her auburn head down to blend
into the crowd, hoping to avoid running into Gunther Quill.
Dammit!
As she exited the plane, she cursed herself for
bringing so much luggage.
Now, I have to hang around the baggage
claim. He’s sure to find me.

She stole a furtive glance up and down the
corridor then breathed a sigh of relief.
No sign of him.
She
straightened up and strode confidently toward the luggage area.
I guess he changed his mind about meeting me here. Good. We have
nothing to talk about other than the movie. Maybe I can deal with
one of the other producers on the film instead.

After unwrapping a piece of gum, she popped
it in her mouth.

“Got an extra?”

Dorrie looked up to see Grace Brewster, her
companion from the flight, standing with her hand out. She handed
Grace a piece and smiled. “Gum keeps me from overeating.”

“I could afford to lose some weight,
too.”

This was an old habit Dorrie used to deal
with nerves and avoid drowning herself in comfort food, especially
when she was a professional dancer. Though choreographers don’t
have to be as slim, they still need to be in shape. She chewed
rapidly, unable to shake her dread of running into Gunther.

“Is he here?” Grace asked, looking
around.

Dorrie shook her head. “Not yet. I hope I
can get my suitcases and leave before he shows up.”

“Me, too.”

“You know Gunther?”

“Don’t ask.”

Dorrie nodded. “I see.”

Grace blushed. “I’m sure you do. I’d rather
not rehash it.”

“I don’t blame you. He does have a way
of…getting around.”

Grace’s blush deepened. “It didn’t end
well.”

“It never does with Gunther.” Dorrie glanced
at the door for the tenth time.

“He’s pretty pissed at me.”

Dorrie raised her eyebrows. “Really? It’s
usually the other way around.”

Grace’s smile tightened. “Trust me, it
wasn’t happy on either side.”

“Sounds familiar,” Dorrie said, her gaze
perusing the area. “I’ll keep watch while you grab our bags. Mine
is dark blue plaid.”

The carousel jolted then began to move as
luggage slowly slid down the ramp and was transferred to the moving
belt. Grace moved toward the conveyor and reached for a
suitcase.

While Dorrie took her gaze off the entrance
to check for her bags, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up,
and her skin prickled. One puff of hot breath warming her ear
alerted her to Gunther’s arrival. She jumped.

“If I was insecure, I’d think you were
avoiding me,” he whispered, standing too close to her.

Dorrie’s heartbeat doubled as adrenaline
poured into her veins.
Fight or flight? Let me out of here.
Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she pasted a smile on her
lips and turned to face him.

“Why Gunther, what a surprise.”

“You little liar. I texted you.”

“Did you? Can’t get those on the plane.”

“Still playing tag with the truth,” he
growled in a deep, low voice. “You’re avoiding me.” He gripped her
biceps hard, detaining her. She caught a glimpse of Grace Brewster
stealing away, stopping to give a quick wave.

“I don’t know what you mean. Oops, there’s
my luggage.” She ripped her arm loose and approached the conveyor
belt. Dorrie’s mind raced to think up an excuse to escape. But
Gunther was right behind her.

“This blue one?” he asked. She nodded. He
reached over and picked up the large suitcase as if it were
nothing. She saw his muscles strain against the sleeve of his sport
coat and remembered a time when that sight had thrilled her.
Not
anymore
.
Yes, he has a great body but no heart.

“I can take it from here.” She moved toward
her valises, but he held them firmly in his grip.

“My car is right outside. Allow me.” He gave
a half bow, appearing gracious. But the sharp look in his narrowed,
dark eyes gave away his intentions. Dorrie got it. He wasn’t going
to allow her out of his sight. She dropped her gum in a trashcan
and swallowed. Searching for a glimpse of Grace, she spied her
friend headed for the exit.

“There’s Grace Brewster. I need to catch
up.”

“I doubt Ms. Brewster wants to run into
me.”

“Can’t we give her a lift, too?”

Gunther turned his head toward Grace, who
glanced backward once, then moved rapidly through the door.

“Ahh. Too late. Shucks,” he said, his eyes
glittering dangerously.

Dorrie was caught in his trap.
No one
evades Gunther Quill.
She followed him out to the waiting
limousine and climbed in. The air was cool, almost cold. Gunther
offered her a drink, which she refused.

“Are you going to stay in that drab
apartment with your dreary roommates?

“Lease is up next month.”

“Good. Why don’t you let me find you an
apartment?”

She studied him, trying to figure out what
he was up to. “Why would I do that?”

“I’m doing very well financially. I can
afford…an extra place.”

“Oh? And what would I have to do to live
there?” She cocked an eyebrow at him.

“You know.”

“Spell it out for me.”

“Come, come, Dorrie. Don’t be so low class.
You’re a tasty morsel. We could have such fun times…just like we
used to.” His gaze rested on her chest.

“I don’t think so. Thanks, but no thanks. I
have enough money to get my own place.” She crossed her arms over
her chest to cut off his view of her breasts.

“You disappoint me. I was looking forward to
being with you again.”

“Aren’t you engaged?”

“You mean Elsa Marquette? She’s a very
understanding woman.”

“That’s not what Grace Brewster said.”
Dorrie mustered all her confidence and faced him.

“Grace? Why would she have an opinion about
Elsa?”

“I don’t know, Gunther. Why don’t you tell
me? Grace’s a close friend of mine…she didn’t have anything nice to
say about you.”

“That little bitch tried to ruin one of my
pictures. But I got the last laugh. Broke up her relationship.”

“Really? She and Jake are getting
married.”

He raised an eyebrow at her smug smile.
“Pussy-whipped. Stupid actor.”

“You ought to have a little more respect for
the people who help make your movies a success.”

“Pfft! He’s a baby. She lured him in with
her body. His funeral.”

What do you know about Grace’s body?
Maybe I don’t want to know.
Dorrie sat back and looked out the
window, trying to ignore the man in the seat beside her, but his
presence crackled with electricity, creating heat. The car passed
building after building, all of them nicer than the place where she
lived. Crammed into a tiny, two-bedroom apartment with three other
women, she’d had to make do for the three years since her
accident.

As her fiancé, Gunther had been
compassionate about the tumble she’d taken that had resulted in the
destruction of her career—at first. His solicitous behavior had
evaporated quickly when it became clear that she’d never dance
professionally again.

He had broken their engagement. Perhaps
motivated by a guilty conscience, he had helped her move out and
had sent her rent money for the first six months. Then, he
disappeared from her life as if they had been nothing but
acquaintances.

Broken-hearted, she tried to create a new
life from scratch. Though her pride had been badly dented when he
dumped her, desperation had forced her to take what he offered.
Ignoring the humiliation that came with the checks each month
hadn’t been easy.

But Dorrie’d been alone. Her parents were
dead, and her younger brother was in the military in Afghanistan.
Being incapacitated, she’d needed help. Gunther’s money had been a
Godsend. In a tiny place tucked away in her heart, she’d been
grateful to him.

Her friends had been quick to point out that
a few thousand dollars was pretty cheap compared to the hefty
settlement of a lawsuit she could’ve mounted against him. She had
fallen at his beach house when the railing gave way. Suing her
fiancé was not something Dorrie would ever have done, even at the
urging of her friends. She wasn’t raised to be vindictive or
vengeful and wasn’t about to try to change her heart.

After the pain receded some, she wondered if
Gunther had had a secret reason to desert her when she was so
vulnerable. But he’d never revealed any reason other than wanting a
partner who was a success, and a broken-down dancer wouldn’t
do.

His hand stroked her hair. “I miss you,
bunny,” Gunther said, softly uttering his pet name for her.

Dorrie jerked away from him. “Don’t give me
that crap, Gunther. You had your chance. And don’t ever call me
that again.”

“How’d you expect a highly successful
producer like me to be married to a yoga instructor…a dance
teacher?”

Dorrie held her breath for a second to keep
a sharp retort from slipping through her lips.
No sense starting
another fight. We have to work together.

“Let’s start over,” he said, turning the
full force of his charm on her.

By now, Dorrie was immune—almost. She turned
abruptly to face him, rage burning in her chest.

“As your girlfriend? Your mistress? Not good
enough to be your wife? You have some damn nerve!”

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