STICK: MC ROMANCE NOVELLA (Forsaken Riders MC Romance Book 8) (87 page)

Chapter 12

Andrea eventually slept, for when she finally awoke the rain was lashing down at the window. She was also not alone; Helena was standing at the foot of her bed looking like death herself, dressed in a long black habit.

“I am glad to see that you have had a good night. I am surprised; the doctor thought that you might lose the child again. I have brought you some breakfast to keep up your strength. Some beef tea and bread will do you good, now let me help you.”

Her hand reached under the pillow. The little vial had gone. Her heart started to beat fast as Helena sat by her side and started to pick up the spoon.

“What is wrong, my dear? You look like you have lost something. Now drink some of this, it will do you good.”

Andrea had no choice; if she struggled, then Helena would force her. They were both playing a dangerous game, and Helena currently held the upper hand. Her only hope lay in the hands of Geraldina.

Soon the beef tea was all gone and Helena smiled as she proffered the last spoonful.

“There, all done. Now I will leave you to rest. I have told the other nuns not to disturb you today. I will lock the door and take away the key, just to make sure you rest in peace.”

The key turned in the lock and the sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor until all was still. Was this to be her final fate?

After half an hour, the fever and the pains started anew and within an hour she was almost unconscious with the pain. Her mind kept blanking out, but she concentrated on the pain to keep her awake. The little song kept playing round and round in her head:

Long ago and far away
I dreamed a dream one day
And now that dream is here beside me.

The words came and went as she tried to sing them out loud, tried to remember the tune that the little nun had sung.

Her heart was beating fast, and her breath was rasping in her throat. So this was the end. She thought of Steve and New York, of her Grandma Betty, and of Alex.

Her eyes began to mist. Death was pulling her towards eternal sleep, and there was nothing she could do. As her senses began to shut down, she was aware of a commotion around her. The door had opened and a shadowy figure was in the room. Maybe it was Death paying her a personal visit? But the face was real. It was Alex; he had returned. He was shouting something out loud to another figure behind him.

“What have you done? What have you done?” His voice was desperate.

Soon she could feel a strong arm around her, sitting her up, shaking her, trying to restore life, but it was too late—she was slowly breaking down. The last thing she remembered was a small stone being thrust into her hand before all went black.

At 30,000 feet in the air, it all came flooding back to her. Geraldine MacDonald had found her that morning slumped over a grave in the little Chapel of St. Oran. She had been overdoing it lately, and the stress had taken its toll. Once she was feeling quite well again, the old woman had given her a book on the genealogy of the McDonald clan and not wanting to be rude, she had taken it along with her name and address and telephone number, just in case she happened to be in the area again.

At first she had tried to sleep. She had an aisle seat and was at least able to stretch out her legs. Yet every time she almost dozed off, vivid dreams and imaginings would wake her up. She looked in her carry-on bag. She had nothing to read except the book Geraldine had given her so she casually flicked through the pages to pass the time. On the third page she paused as she read the name of Alexhander McDonald. Her heart stopped as the memories came flooding back in every detail. Surely it had been just a terrible dream, brought on by her grieving state? Maybe she had been influenced by her grandma’s diary. She had always had an active imagination.

She looked at the family tree spread out in the middle pages of the book. There was Alexhander McDonald, married to Andra in 1642. They had a child, Alexhander (dead) in 1644, and another, a girl in 1645. There were no dates of death, only question marks against the entries. The history books couldn’t tell her everything.

Andrea put a hand against her stomach, remembering the pregnancy. Could it be that she was expecting? She had been sick that morning when she returned to the hotel, and she still felt a little queasy. Deep inside her, it all started to make sense. If it had been just a dream, then she wouldn’t be feeling so strongly. Alex had come through for her in the end, just at the right moment. She fished out the small rune from her jeans pocket and held it in her hand. This tiny object connected her past and present; it was her link to the one man she loved and would return to.

In the dark room of the nunnery, Alex McDonald held onto the still, warm body of his beloved Andra. The dawn had just started to break, and a weak sun was rising above the mist. He knew that she was safe and that she would come back to him. As long as he kept holding her, she would not die. Their love was eternal.

THE END

This exciting story continues with Highland’s Dream, available from Amazon now

My New Billionaire Stepbrother

Cynthia Wilde

Copyright ©2015 by Cynthia Wilde. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic of mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Thank you so much for your interest in my work!

Table of Contents

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1

Jennifer wished that she didn’t have to be there at all. But there she stood in a hideous pink bridesmaid dress, standing next to her mother while she married the man of her dreams. She was having every girl’s fantasy wedding. Her fiancée had told her that money was no object, and by the attention to detail and the spare-no-expense feel of this affair, it was clear he hadn’t been lying. Jennifer hated his constant show of wealth, but her mother Darla apparently was looking for the financial reassurance of stability over the spiritual connection of emotional attachment and chemistry. At the same time, Jennifer had to admit that the chocolate fondue fountain her mom had planned would be pretty awesome. The light show would be cool too, for that matter. Still, she would have rather stayed home.

Her mother’s new husband Ryan was a bit older than she was, maybe by ten years. Jennifer was never privy to their exact age difference, but everyone with eyes could tell when the couple was out together. To be fair that was really not a big deal. If she had really liked the guy she wouldn’t have thought twice about it. But Jennifer never really did warm up to him during the whirlwind three month courtship. She kept that to herself as best as she could though, because her mother just seemed so happy. She couldn’t bear to be the one to rain on the woman’s parade, so she just kept her mouth shut and tried as best as she could to be supportive.

Jennifer was happy to see that the ritual ceremony was over and people were getting up to head to the reception. She went to congratulate her mother one last time before leaving them to go change and get to the other venue.

“Congrats mom, you look so adorable.”

Jennifer was being honest, as her mother was radiating a glow that was hard to surpass. She looked as close to radiant as she ever got and the dress was just beautiful. That dress probably cost more than Jennifer would make in a year, and it showed. All of the detail and embroidery really made it stand out.

“Thank you baby. Stick around Jenny, so you can meet your new brothers.”

Jennifer looked confused since she had never heard of Ryan having any children. She envisioned a couple of teens that he had from a previous marriage.

“I didn’t know I was getting new brothers out of this deal, mom. No one ever tells me anything. I go off to school fifty miles away and ….oh, never mind. I will see you at the reception and meet them then, okay?”

The blonde tried to smile, hiding her true feelings from her mother. As always her mother was distracted and didn’t seem to notice her daughter’s annoyance. She walked away as she heard her mom gushing to her oldest friend, Ruth. Jennifer pulled her hair out of the fancy up-do which had taken an hour to create. Shaking her hair out, she slid into her old Mazda, which had been parked in front of the church, and headed down to the country club where the reception was to be held. Well, at least she wouldn’t have trouble finding her car in that parking lot later. Being almost 10 years old, it would certainly stand out, she thought, shaking her head.

Jennifer sat in her car for a few minutes after she pulled in. She hunted for her party dress and pulled it on after taking off the pink fluffy nightmare dress that her mom made her wear. It was now the tackiest, most expensive dress she owned and she hoped to hock it on Ebay as soon as she got back to school. Maybe someone would buy it, or at least she hoped so. She figured it would at least pay for a few books if nothing else.

Jennifer fluffed her hair and re-applied some light pink lipstick. She lit and took a few quick drags on a cigarette before stubbing it out and going inside, blowing smoke out of her lips as she went. She knew almost no one there and Jennifer found herself walking towards the bar. The buffet would be her second stop.

“Do you have an I.D. miss?”

“Oh come on, I’m the daughter of the bride. If I have to be here, the least you can do is give me a couple of shots.”

“I’m sorry miss, but no card, no drinks.”

Jennifer was about to say something else when a tall, dark-haired man came up behind her.

“I need….”

The man looked over at Jennifer and waited for her to answer.

“Double vodka.”

The bartender looked between the two, and rather than protest, did as the man, who also seemed to be his employer, bade. Jennifer thanked the attractive stranger and then headed towards the buffet table with drink in hand. She didn’t care for weddings in general, and especially not for this one in particular. Probably as a direct result, her cup was empty by the time she got back to the table. Jennifer looked around for the handsome stranger for a moment and when she didn’t see him, she decided to try her luck for another drink on her own.

The young, tuxedo clad bartender already had another one poured and ready for her when she got back. Pleasantly surprised, she thanked him.

“I told him to keep ‘em coming for you all night, as many as you wish…as long as don’t get too wasted.”

The change of tone was welcomed, as well as suspicious. She took the drink and walked toward the closest available table. For the moment she ignored decorum and the standard prearranged seating. She just wasn’t in the mood. Jennifer had just picked a random seat when her new tall, dark and handsome friend joined her, taking a seat on her left.

“Hi.”

Jennifer looked over at the man and said hello back. He was ruggedly handsome and he was dressed impeccably. Jennifer didn’t know that much about custom tailored suits, but she suspected that was what he was wearing. He reeked of money, as most of the people around her did. Some of those at the reception seemed to make a show of every bit of jewelry, and took every opportunity to mention their connections, but he carried it all off effortlessly, as if he might as well have been wearing a pair of old overalls. His brown eyes held hers captivated for a moment, before she looked down at her plate.

“So um, thanks back there. I really needed a drink.”

“That bad?”

“Yes.”

She didn’t elaborate and he didn’t press. She ate a few bites and then looked over at him. Jennifer could feel the man’s dark eyes on her and she waited for him to say something.

“Are you here for the bride or groom?”

“Bride, ugh, definitely the bride.”

“You don’t like the groom?”

“He makes her happy. That’s what’s important.”

“So what you really mean is that he’s a pompous jerk,” he laughed.

“Are you here for the groom?”

The man chuckled and nodded.

“That I am. My name is Charles, yours?”

“Jennifer, nice to meet you.”

Jennifer finished her drink and looked over at the bar, debating if she wanted to leave to get yet another one. She found herself attracted to the tall, handsome man and he seemed to be interested in her as well. Before she had time to act first, he excused himself and headed to the bar. Walking back with the drink in each hand, he looked devastatingly gorgeous. He placed her drink in front of her nonchalantly. His hair was a bit longer than was the fashion at the moment, ending at the collar. It had a slight wave to it and was almost pitch black. His skin had an olive tone and his eyes, when focused on a person, were hard to hold a gaze with. They were just so intense.

“Thank you. I think I should slow down, I am starting to feel a bit of a reckless smile on my face.”

“There is a smile on there, and it is beautiful. If you were mine, I would make sure you smiled like that every day.”

Charles leaned in close, but instead of going for a kiss, he just asked her if she wanted to dance. His face was beside hers, his words whispered gently into her ear. She tingled with the non-touch, his hot breath playing with her sensitive earlobe.

“Sure,” she said, trying to play it cool, while a wave of heat washed over her entire body.