Excerpt for Passionate Hearts Anthology by Vanilla Heart Publishing Anthologies, available in its entirety at Smashwords

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Passionate Hearts

Anthology of Love, Passion, and Romance


Compiled by Vanilla Heart Publishing

Authors retain all reprint rights and copyright to their individual works in perpetuity.


Published by: Vanilla Heart Publishing on Smashwords


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Table of Contents


Her Protector

Victoria Howard


The Riddle

Jacqueline Seewald


The Vacation

Chelle Cordero


An Engaging New Year

Michael Bracken


Take Me As I Am

Charmaine Gordon


Immortal Love

Melinda Clayton


Shimmering Wedding

Marilyn Celeste Morris


Destiny Beach

Angelica Taylor





Paco’s Visions

Robert Hays


A Firefly for Thanksgiving

Kathie Harrington


After the Ball

Misha Crews


Kiss and Makeup

Allison Wonderland


Three Things to Hold Onto

Sandy Nicks


Rediscovered Trust

KC Sprayberry


Breakfast at the Laundromat

Smoky Trudeau


My Dearest Love

Billy Burgess



About Our Authors



Her Protector by Victoria Howard



Matt Hemmings had no problem following the tall, slender figure of Alexa McAllister, as she wove her way through the bustling terminal building at Rome’s Leonardo da Vinci Airport.

In her early thirties, she carried herself confidently, unaware of the appreciative glances from fellow travelers. Her thick auburn hair hung in long graceful curves to her shoulders. Casually dressed in black linen trousers, white shirt, and pink jacket, she looked elegant and refreshed despite having spent the morning at the office before catching the two and a half hour flight from London Heathrow. A small black leather purse dangled from her left shoulder, a matching laptop bag under it.

Matt matched his stride to hers as she wheeled her suitcase toward the exit and queue of waiting taxis. He ignored the objections of an overweight German man who swore heartily at him for muscling into the line behind her. He waited until she gave directions to the driver, then seizing the opportunity, stepped forward.

“Excuse me. Did I hear you say, Hotel La Capanna?”

Alexa flinched at the sound of his voice and spun round. “Yes, you did. So what of it?”

“I’m staying there too. Seems pointless us both taking a taxi. Care to share?”

Alexa hesitated. “I don’t—”

“Sorry, I should have introduced myself.” He smiled and held out his hand. “Matt Hemmings. I can assure you, I’m not a stalker. I’m kind to puppies, old ladies and children. You can ask my mother, she’ll tell you I’m perfectly harmless.”

She laughed and visibly relaxed. “Alexa McAllister,” she replied, and shook his hand. “All right, but on condition we split the fare.”

Matt held open the door while she settled herself inside, then slipped onto the rear seat beside her.

“I thought you looked familiar. You’re giving the keynote speech at the symposium. I don’t suppose you remember me, but we met at MIT last month. Carl Snyder introduced us.”

It was always rush hour in Rome. Buses jostled for position with trucks, motorcycles, scooters and cars. When their taxi swerved to avoid a collision between a bus and a scooter, Alexa’s shoulder bumped into his, and he caught the scent of her crisp, floral perfume.

“Sorry,” she said, and leaned back in her seat. “How well do you know Carl, Mr. Hemmings?”

Was that a hint of suspicion? He had a feeling her green eyes had already seen through his cover and were inspecting the ID in his wallet.

“Call me, Matt, please. Carl really did introduce us. We stood next to the dais after his lecture, along with Marcus Somerville from Cambridge University. I can even tell you what you wore.”

“That’s okay, I believe you. So you’re here for the symposium. Are you making a presentation, Matt?”

He studied her face for a moment. None of the photographs he’d seen did her justice. Her facial bones were delicately carved, her mouth full, her eyes serenely compelling. It was easy to forget that there was a highly intelligent brain in that pretty head.

He grinned. “No, I’m just here to listen and represent my company.”

Their taxi pulled up in front of the ivy covered hotel. Matt got out and paid the driver, then followed Alexa into the lobby.

The interior, with its authentic lacunar ceiling, pale terracotta walls, and marble floor, felt wonderfully cool compared to the inefficient air conditioning of the taxi.

They approached the reception desk; Alexa opened her purse and took out her wallet. “How much do I owe you for my share of the fare?”

“It’s okay.”

“No, I insist.”

Matt watched her for the space of a long breath. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and take her away from the city where any one of three million inhabitants and countless tourists posed a threat. Instead he raked his fingers through his hair. This is not a date, it’s an assignment. Concentrate.

Amusement flickered in his eyes. “Have dinner with me this evening and we’ll call it quits,” he suggested, and every evening he added silently.

“You’re that sure of yourself?”

Matt adopted what he hoped was a hurt expression. ”Not confident, merely hopeful.”

“Sorry to disappoint you. And, this is going to sound so clichéd, but I have a speech to prepare.”

“You’re right. It does, which is why I’m not going to take ‘no’ for answer.”

Alexa’s sense of humor took over and she laughed in answer. “You’re certainly persistent.” She hesitated for a moment. “All right, seven-thirty on the roof terrace?”

His face creased into a smile. “Seven-thirty it is.”

Matt waited patiently while she completed the registration formalities, using the time to study the other occupants of the lobby. A blond haired man sat in a wicker chair, apparently engrossed in the latest Jeffrey Deaver novel. As Matt’s gaze settled on him, he stood, put away his book and wandered over to the bank of elevators.

Matt turned back to the desk in time to see the receptionist hand Alexa a set of keys.

“That’s me sorted,” she said. “I’ll see you later, Matt.”

“I look forward to it.”


Once inside her room, Alexa kicked off her shoes and shed her jacket. Light and airy, the room was furnished in the Baroque style, with a four poster canopy bed, and frescoed ceiling. A large tapestry covered one wall. Shuttered, double doors opened onto a private terrace which overlooked a small piazza filled with market stalls selling flowers and produce.

After a leisurely shower, she changed into a navy and turquoise print sleeveless sun dress, and strappy sandals, then picked up the matching navy wrap and her purse, and headed for the elevator.

Dusk had descended by the time she stepped onto the roof terrace. The night was warm and three of the tables were already occupied, their occupants engaged in muted conversation over a bottle of wine.

Matt sat a table in the corner overlooking the dome of the Basilica. He stood as she approached. Tall, broad-shouldered, squared-jawed with thick tawny-gold hair, he wasn’t classically handsome, but there was something appealing about his dark eyes and secret expression.

Alexa didn’t normally accept invitations from strangers, especially when travelling, but Matt’s easy manner and ready smile attracted her.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” Matt said.

“I always settle my debts,” she replied, and sat down in the rattan chair opposite his.

Matt’s mouth twitched, then deepened into a smile. “I’m glad to hear it.”

A waiter appeared with two glasses of white wine and a dish of olives. He placed them on the table then discreetly withdrew.

“What made you decide to stay somewhere other than the conference hotel?” Matt asked.

“It’s too impersonal, and there’s always someone who wants to discuss their research over breakfast and/or dinner. Perhaps I should ask you the same question.”

“Same goes. So, why this hotel in particular?”

“A friend was a guest here a few months ago and recommended it. It’s within walking distance of the conference center. The service is excellent and it’s compact, and—”

“Romantic?”

Alexa’s gentle laughter rippled on the night air. “I was going to say elegant.”

“But you have to agree it is romantic; four poster beds, baths large enough for two.”

“Are you sure you’re not confusing Rome with Paris or Venice?”

“Trust me. Rome is a city steeped in history and romance. No visit is complete without walking the medieval lanes, having dinner in one of the candlelight restaurants, or pavement cafés.

Alexa sipped her wine and took a moment to savour the taste. “I’ve not had chance to see that side of the city.”

Matt’s husky voice held a challenge. “Then that’s something we’ll have to change.”

Alexa felt herself blush. She was being far to open with this man. Next she’d be telling him she didn’t have time for romance in her life. She twisted the stem of her wine glass, suddenly thankful that the terrace was lit only by candlelight.

“I’m here to work, Matt. I don’t have time for sightseeing.”

“Sure you do. You can’t come to Rome and not see the Trevi Fountain. It’s pretty impressive, even at night, and it’s only a short walk from here. What do you say we go take a look for ourselves?”

She hesitated, and looked out at the twinkling lights of the city below. “I’m flattered by your interest, Matt, but I—”

“You have a speech to finish. I know, you told me.” His gaze held hers. “But the conference doesn’t start for another twenty-four hours. You can’t spend all the time between now and then cooped up in your room. All I’m suggesting is a walk, nothing more. Where’s the harm in that?”

She took a breath. He really did look very sincere, and there was a warmth that started in his eyes and moved to his mouth. She felt the same pull of attraction as she had when they first met.

“Well, I—”

Matt drained his glass. “I know this great little ristorante just round the corner from the fountain. It serves the best tagliatelle pulcinella in the whole of Italy.”

“In that case, how can I refuse?” Alexa stood and followed him to the elevator.

The narrow streets were crowded with couples, young and old, some walking arm-in-arm, others openly hugging and kissing. They passed old stone piazzas and dimly lit courtyards were pale lamps hung above flights of stone steps.

Matt reached out, and laced his fingers with hers. Unexpectedly, Alex felt her pulse quicken. Most men she met were more concerned with her work than getting to know her as a person. But Matt was different. He seemed genuinely interested and radiated a vitality that drew her like a magnet.

“You know there’s a legend attached to the fountain?” he said, breaking into her reverie.

“Really?”

“Tradition has it, that if visitors throw a coin into the fountain, they are ensured a return to Rome. Two coins will lead to a new romance, and three will ensure a marriage.”

Alexa’s mouth curved into a smile. “That’s just superstitious nonsense.”

“That’s a scientist talking,” Matt replied. “Why don’t we try it and find out if it’s true?”

“Find out what exactly? I already know when I’ll be returning to Rome—this time next year.”

Matt stopped in midstride and turned to face her, again, the mischievous look came into his eyes. “A year’s a long time, Alexa,” he said softly.

She studied his profile, dark against the moonlight, and felt a surge of excitement ripple through her veins. It was too easy to get lost in the way he looked at her and something in his expression told her he wasn’t just referring to the first part of the legend.

“Come on, we’re nearly there,” Matt said.

The sound of gushing water reverberated off the walls of buildings lining the street. It became a crescendo as they entered the Piazza.

An extraordinary mixture of power and beauty, the floodlight fountain made Alexa catch her breath in awe. They pushed their way through the throng, and climbed down the steps to the base of the fountain. She felt something being pressed into her hand. When she looked down two, one Euro coins lay in her palm.

Matt turned toward her and rested his hands on her shoulders, the meaning of his gaze very obvious. Her skin tingled from the contact. He stood so close she could smell the sandalwood and lime of his cologne.

Something intense flared between them and she found his unspoken challenge impossible to resist. She raised her right arm and threw the coins over her left shoulder. They spun in the air then splashed down into the churning water, joining thousands of others lying at the feet of Neptune.

Matt pulled her into his arms. “I’m attracted to you, Alexa. And I want to kiss you, but I won’t, not until I’m sure that’s what you want too.”

She felt her heart flutter in response, her emotions out of control. Her logical mind declared that attraction at first sight was a misconception, yet her feelings had nothing to do with reason. The thought of his lips on hers was both disturbing and exciting. She took a moment before answering.

“We’ve only just met. We don’t know each other.”

“That’s a lame excuse, Alexa. What’s between us sprang from our first look. You know it as well as I do.”

Alexa didn’t know what to say. He was right. There was a tangible bond between them. She walked a few steps away from him, and pulled her wrap around her shoulders, and stared at the marble figures adorning the fountain.

“Am I moving too fast for you?” Matt asked.

She met his eyes level gaze—those dark eyes seemed to touch her heart. She’d never felt this way before. And it frightened her. She couldn’t lie to him, make up excuses. He would see through them.

“I don’t know, Matt. I came here to attend a conference, not to start an affair.”

“That’s being blunt.” He watched for a long moment, his dark olive-black eyes filled with emotion.

“It’s getting late,” she said, changing the subject.

“All right, let’s go eat. I promise to keep the conversation neutral.”

The aroma of rosemary and garlic filled the air as they entered the restaurant, and Alexa suddenly realized she was hungry. They chose a table near the door, and ordered their entrées and drinks.

“I’d forgotten how noisy Italian’s can be,” Matt said.

Alexa looked over his shoulder at a party of eight adults and children, laughing and smiling, and obviously celebrating a birthday. “They look as if they’re enjoying themselves.”

“How do you spend your free time?” Matt asked.

The waiter arrived with their entrées, two plates of tagliatelle pulcinella, and a side order of bruschetta, before she could answer.

“I enjoy going to the theatre, meeting up with friends, playing tennis when the weather allows or listening to music and relaxing with a book.”

“Then that’s something we have in common.” His attention was drawn to a blond haired man and woman as they entered the restaurant. A questioning gaze passed between them.

“Someone you know?” Alexa asked.

Matt shook his head. “I’ve no idea who they are.” What about holidays?” he asked drawing her back into the conversation.

The food was every bit as delicious as Matt had predicted. When Alexa felt she couldn’t eat another bite, she leaned back in her chair and sipped the rich full-bodied, red wine.

“Most of my travelling is done in conjunction with my work. When I go on holiday, I go for the simple option, somewhere I can chill out and forget about work for a few weeks; a cottage in Scotland, a gîte in France, that sort of thing.”

“With me it’s fishing. It’s a great way to unwind. You should try it sometime.”

“All that sitting around, waiting for some poor unsuspecting slimy creature to get hooked on the end of a line—I don’t think so!

“Okay, I promise not to take you fishing. What about skiing?”

“I’ve never tried it.”

“Then that’s something we’ll have to rectify. Would you care dessert or a coffee?”

“No thanks. It’s time I called it a night; it’s been a long day.”

He signalled the waiter to bring their check, grabbed it before she could, and put his credit card in the folder.

“I thought we’d agreed to split the bill?”

There was a faint glint of humor in his eyes. “I guess this means you’re taking me to dinner again tomorrow.”

“You are incorrigible.”

“It’s my middle name.” His expression stilled and grew serious. “What’s happening between us is more than innocent flirting between two strangers. I know it, you know. Now it’s up to you what we do about it.”

“For some reason I can’t say ‘no’ to you.”

As they left the restaurant, Matt linked arms with her and led her through the narrow medieval streets back to their hotel. When he insisted escorting her to her room, Alexa didn’t object.

She swiped the key through the magnetic lock, and pushed the door open.

Matt’s lips brushed against her cheek as he spoke.

“Sleep well, Alexa,” he said softly. He waited until he heard the dead bolt click on then turned on his heels and left.


The following morning, Alexa sat alone at a table eating breakfast when she saw Matt enter the dining room. Mildly embarrassed at being caught staring, she looked away, and focused instead on the paper she was presenting to the symposium.

His smile flashed briefly. “Hi.”

Alexa titled her head and returned his smile. “Good morning.”

“I thought you might like to see some more of Rome, but I can see you’re busy,” he said, nodding toward the papers spread out next to her coffee cup.

Instinctively, Alexa gathered them up and slipped them into her purse. “What did you have in mind?”

“Well, there’s the Spanish Steps and the church of Triniti dei Moniti, not to mention the Colosseum.”

She glanced at her watch. Nine-thirty. Her speech was finished, and if she were honest, forgetting about work and the conference might feel good. “Okay,” she said. “I guess I could spare a couple of hours.”

“Great,” Matt replied, sounding really pleased.

The temperature had already reached twenty-eight degrees and the thermometer was set to climb even higher. In difference to the weather, Alexa had dressed in a sleeveless silk top in muted shades of pale green, cream and rose, and teamed it with a pale green knee length skirt and sandals. Her hair was tied back with a scarf into a pony tail.

At Matt’s suggestion, they took a taxi to the Via Gregoriana where a group of artists had set up their easels at the top of the Spanish Steps and were busy capturing the scene below.

“Did you know that back in the eighteenth century beautiful men and women used to gather here hoping to be chosen as artist’s models?” said Matt.

Alexa cast a glance the vast numbers of people congregating on the steps. “Have you been reading the guidebook, by any chance?”

Matt grinned. “Only to impress you. Is it working?”

Alexa smiled, but didn’t answer. They walked on. A flower vendor was busy setting up his stall in the piazza, the scent from the multicolored blooms rising on the air.

Caught up the lively, cosmopolitan atmosphere, Alexa stole a glance Matt, and found him watching her, a spark of some indefinable emotion in his eyes.

“I thought Paris was beautiful, but Rome takes my breath away.”

Matt put his arm around her waist. “Glad you came?” he asked, his voice deep and sensual.

She lifted her chin and did a quick appraisal of his features. His face was strong and there were laughter lines around his eyes, hinting at a softer side to his character.

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

He ran one finger round her face, tracing the outline of her jaw. Slowly he lowered his head, his eyes never leaving hers as he brushed her lips in a feather-light kiss. The gentle caress of his hand as it explored the hollow of her back was almost unbearable in its tenderness.

The touch of his lips on hers was intoxicating, and the degree to which she responded completely unexpected. Without thinking, her arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers lightly touching the soft dark hairs that curled on his collar. Filled with a strange inner excitement, her pulse raced. Several seconds passed before she felt able to speak.

“I—”

“Don’t spoil the moment by analyzing just what happened, Alexa. Accept it for what it was—a kiss between two people strongly attracted to each other.”

“Don’t rush me, Matt,” she insisted. “Last time I entered into a relationship I ended up being badly hurt. I don’t want to make the same mistake again.”

“Okay, no pressure. But, you can’t tell me that you don’t feel the same.”

Alexa couldn’t help but smile. “I won’t argue with you. I can’t.”

“Then all I ask is that you give yourself a chance to get to know me better.”

“You’re one of a kind, Matt. Most men would have switched their attention to someone else.”

“I don’t give up easily, Alexa, especially if I believe something is worth waiting for.”

Bright green leafed azaleas decorated the steps, their vivid pink blooms a sharp contrast to the light coloured stone. Hand-in-hand, they climbed down to the first terrace and paused to admire the Villa Medici, with its fine views of the city.

After eating a late lunch in a small ristorante on the Via dei Condotti, they climbed aboard a horse drawn carriage for a tour of the city.

Church bells struck eleven p.m., as they entered the hotel lobby and waited for the elevator. Tired, and happy, Alexa reveled in Matt’s open admiration of her. Although the ride to the third floor took only seconds, she was overtly conscious of the heat of his body as he stood next to her in the confined space. When he gathered her into his arms, and kissed her deeply, she responded with all the pent-up passion that she’d tried so hard to deny.

The lift door slid open and he finally released her, his dark eyes so full of desire, that a delicious shudder heated her body. Silently, they walked along the corridor to her room.

“Thank you for a lovely day,” Alexa said. She unlocked the door, and turned to face him.

A half smile crossed his face. He inclined his head to hers. “As much as I want to, I’m not going to ask you to invite me in.”

Reclaiming her lips, his arms encircled her waist, one hand in the small of her back. The kiss went from simple contact to raw passion, that left her knees weak and her senses reeling. Abruptly he let her go and pushed her into the room, closing the door behind her with a soft thud.

Alexa felt a twinge of disappointment as she undressed and climbed into the four poster bed. She’d known Matt for less than twenty-four hours, yet her whole body was filled with an aching need that she knew only he could satisfy.


Dressed conservatively in a tailored black sleeveless dress and a matching long line jacket, with her hair twisted into a neat chignon, Alexa moved restlessly as she waited for the taxi to take her to the conference.

Her gaze roamed the lobby and adjoining library, hopeful that she would see Matt.

Taxi per dottore McAllister,” the concierge called.

Oddly disappointed that there was no sign of him, she slipped the strap of her purse over her shoulder, and went out to the waiting car.

Traffic was heavy, almost at gridlock. Alexa felt relieved when the taxi slowed, and finally turned into the parking lot. A crowd of people had gathered and were being held back from the entrance by a row of temporary barriers. The placards they carried proclaimed the dangers of nuclear waste.

Inside the auditorium, many of the delegates were already assembled, and the air buzzed with conversation as they renewed friendships and discussed the schedule. Alexa circled the room looking for Matt, but couldn’t see him in the crowd.

On the podium, seven seats stared into the expectant crowd. Alexa shook hands and exchanged pleasantries with a few colleagues then took her place in the middle seat.

At exactly two p.m., Paolo Balducci, a professor with CERN—The European Organization for Nuclear Research, stepped up to the lectern and opened the symposium. He cleared his throat, the microphone amplifying the sound, and consulted his notes.

Alexa surveyed the faces of the people in the first few rows. It was clear they were bored as they listened to Paolo’s monotonic voice.

Shouts gushed in from the hallway. Without warning, the doors to the auditorium burst open and a crowd of protesters waving placards rushed in. Security personnel tried to hold them back, but they broke through the cordon. A delegate struggled with a protester, but was shoved roughly to the floor in an explosive moment of violence.

Alexa froze in her seat, unsure how to react. Armed police and Carabineri stormed into the auditorium, batons raised, weapons drawn. Chaos ensued. People screamed and ran. Protesters fought with the police and were wrestled to the ground. But some broke free and charged the platform, only then did she scramble out of her chair and run.

Heavy footsteps echoed behind her. Someone clutched at the sleeve of her jacket. She twisted, and felt the fabric tear. Her hair worked free from its knot, she hastily shoved it out of her eyes. Heart pounding, she choked back a scream, and kicked out with her foot. Her pursuer grunted, and released her.

Summoning all her strength she tried to run faster, but the heel of her shoe caught between two floorboards. She pitched forward, and would have fallen, but for the iron grip on her wrist. Panicking, she twisted and struggled against the hand that held her.

“Alexa! It’s okay, it’s me.”

She glanced up, her fear turning to relief. “Matt? Oh, thank God.”

“Come on, this way,” he said, and yanked her sideways toward the back of the platform. They hurried down a series of twisting stairways and along a corridor to an emergency exit. He paused just long enough to release the lock, before shoving her out into the brilliant sunshine.

The street was empty.

Matt kept hold of Alexa’s hand as he led her through a series of narrow passageways. The instant they turned the corner, he pulled her into the shadow of a doorway. Keeping his body between her and the street, he searched for signs of someone following them.

Police cars converged on the area, blue lights flashing, sirens screaming. He glanced at her pale, tight face and smoothed his hand over her tangled hair. “It’s all right, you’re safe. I won’t let anyone hurt you,” he said softly.

Alexa stiffened. Tears blinded her eyes and choked her voice. She made a small sound that could have been a sigh or whimper, then started to shudder. Matt gathered her closer, and gently rocked her back and forth.

She closed her eyes and took a long, raking breath. “The man chasing me?”

“Don’t worry about him. He won’t be doing much running for a while. Think you can keep it together long enough to get away from here?”

She nodded.

Matt checked the street again. When no one appeared to take any interest, he grabbed her hand and started walking quickly away from the area.

Alexa lost all sense of direction as they threaded their way through the city. She tried to relax, but couldn’t control the spasmodic trembling of her body. Matt’s pace was relentless and, at times, she was forced to jog just to keep up with his long strides. Across the piazza, the street sloped steeply. She knew it was impossible—she didn’t have the strength to make it to the top.

Sensing her hesitation, Matt drew her into a nearby trattoria. He found a table near the kitchen and ordered two brandies from the waiter.

“Here,” he said, pressing the glass into her trembling hands.

Obediently, Alexa raised the glass and sipped the amber liquid. Little by little warmth crept back into her body, and her breathing slowed.

“Felling better?”

She nodded. “Th… those people?”

“Anti-nuclear protesters, their numbers swelled by the local equivalent of rent-a-mob.”

“What do you think will happen now?”

“The police will round up as many of the protesters as they can find. They’ll probably spend a night or two in the cells, then be released.”

Alexa stared at the TV above the bar. While she couldn’t understand what the reporter was saying, the images being relayed showed the violent scenes outside the conference center. Her fingers fumbled with torn sleeve of her jacket. When she finally spoke, her voice was dull and troubled. “Do you think they’ll cancel the symposium?”

“I’ve no idea. It will be up to the police and organizers to decide. What will you do now?”

“I’ll have to contact my office in London, see what they advise.”

Matt grunted. “Given the circumstances, I hope they tell you to get on the first available plane back to Heathrow. I don’t think it’s safe for you to remain here.”

Unhappily, Alexa had to agree. Absently she rubbed her hands up and down her arms.

“Cold?”

“Just scared and feeling dirty.”

“I’m not surprised. It was pretty tense for a while. Can you walk back to the hotel or should I ask the waiter to order a taxi?

“I’ll walk.”

With a suppressed shudder Alexa slid out of her seat. Matt was right behind her, his hand resting lightly just above her waist as he guided her through the press of people around the bar. She walked tiredly through the streets, leaning heavily on his shoulder.

A large party of tourists were waiting at reception when they entered the hotel. No one paid any attention to Alexa’s disheveled state as they strode through the lobby to the elevator. A blond haired man saw them approach, and politely held the doors open until they could enter.

“I haven’t even thanked you,” she said, as they paused outside the door to her room.

“For what?”

“For coming to my rescue.”

“Think nothing of it. Will you be okay?”

“Once I’ve got out of these clothes, I’ll feel a whole lot better.”

His fingers gently touched her cheek. “Take it easy and get some rest. I’ll check in with you later.”

Alexa unlocked the door and stepped inside. She slipped the chain into the lock. Folding her arms across her chest, she gripped her upper arms, and swayed a little as if she were cold. She screwed her eyes shut, then opened them again and lifted her chin. I am not going to fall apart.

Straightening her back, she marched into the bathroom. Turning on the hot water, she added some of the complimentary scented oil, stripped off her clothes, then stepped into the deep tub, and just sat there limply until the water was almost cold.

She quickly dried herself then climbed into bed. But sleep was impossible. She tried not to think about the events of the afternoon, and focused on the paintings on the wall, but violent image of the protesters kicking Paolo Balducci to the ground kept taking over her mind.

She woke to the sound of the telephone ringing and realized that she had slept after all. It was eight o’clock in the morning.

“Hello?”

“Dr McAllister? It’s John Rodale, from the Department of—”

“I know who you are, Mr. Rodale. How can I help you?

“As you may know, Professor Balducci was seriously injured during the protest yesterday. As a consequence, the Minister is insisting you return to London as soon as possible. We’ve managed to get you a seat on the seven a.m., flight tomorrow.”

“Thank you for letting me know.”

“Just one more thing—we strongly recommend you remain in the hotel until it’s time for you to leave.”

“I understand, Mr. Rodale. Thank you for calling.”

Matt was sat in the lobby when she went in search of something to eat a short time later. He smiled when he saw her approach.

“I was just coming to check on you.”

“I’m sorry. I should have had them call your room. But I fell asleep and didn’t wake until a couple of hours ago.”

“They’ve cancelled the symposium. I guess this means you’ll be returning to London.”

Her faint smile held a touch of sadness. “I’m booked on the red-eye tomorrow morning. What about you?”

“I had planned to stay on to the end of the week, but there’s nothing to keep me here now.”

Disappointment washed over her, leaving her with an overwhelming feeling of emptiness. “I see.”

“We could spend the day together.”

Alexa shook her head. “I think it best if I stay here in the hotel.”

There was a moments silence then Matt said, huskily, “But you’ll have dinner with me?”

She smiled. “I’d like that.”


That evening Alexa dressed with special care. She told herself she was simply in the mood to dress up. But Matt was very much on her mind as she fastened the tiny gold buttons on her favourite amber coloured silk dress. With a plunging V neckline and narrow clinging skirt, the dress made the most of her curves.

Her makeup was simple, just a touch of blusher to highlight her naturally high cheek bones, some brown shadow to accent her green eyes and a little mascara to darken her lashes.

There was a knock on her bedroom door just as she finished dabbing her favourite perfume behind her ears. Collecting her wrap and purse off the bed, she opened the door.

“You look stunning,” Matt said, and kissed her cheek.

“Thank you.” She gazed up and studied his lean face. He was so handsome in his well-tailored suit that her breath caught in her throat.

The hotel restaurant was impressive, the décor tasteful, the lighting subdued, the ambience intimate. The food was superb and cooked to perfection, the wine rich and full bodied.

Matt was amusing and not once did the conversation falter. After dessert, he slipped a protective arm around her waist as they followed the waiter into the cocktail lounge for coffee and liqueurs.

A pianist sat behind a baby grand next to the small area set aside for dancing, the soft sounds of a slow jazz melody reverberated from the keys.

Matt held out his hand. “May I?” He led her onto the dance floor. His arms encircled her waist, his hands intertwined against her spine.

Alexa’s arms wound round his neck, as they swayed in time to the music, their bodies moving as one. Their eyes locked, and she could feel his uneven breath on her cheek as he held her close. Heat pulsed through her with each brush of his thigh on hers. She could barely breathe, barely think, as the gentle massage sent desire spiraling through her.

She felt the heady sensation of his lips against her neck, and in a reflex as old as time he pulled her closer, holding her hips against his.

The last chords of music died away, and reluctantly, they parted.

Matt was silent, as if holding a raw emotion in check, as he escorted her back to her room. Rummaging in her purse, Alexa found the key and unlocked the door. But as she turned to step inside, he clasped her body tightly to his. Instinctively, her arms slipped inside his jacket and around his back. His mouth brushed hers in a kiss as tender and light as summer breeze.

Anticipation filled her body. With a sigh, she stood on tiptoe, rested her hands on his shoulder, and kissed him with a hunger that belied her outward calm. It was a long time before he released her. Her senses spun, heat rippled under her skin, leaving her breathless, shaken.

“I should say ‘goodnight’,” she murmured against his throat.

“Is that what you really want, Alexa?”

Powerful emotions raged within her. She met his level gaze—those piercing dark eyes that had seen past her fragile defenses to the hunger beneath

“I—” She shook her head.

He captured her hands and pulled her inside the room, kicking the door shut with his foot. The hands that held hers drew her closer, until she forgot everything but the gentle massage of his mouth against hers.

Alexa moaned softly. A sweetness washed through her, filled her senses, making her feel almost drunk with desire.

When Matt finally ended the kiss, he looked at her, his dark eyes so full of passion that her heart beat wildly in her breast. Any doubts she had disappeared, as he swept her into his arms, and set her down next to the bed.

One by one, he undid the buttons on her dress and slid the garment down past her shoulders and hips, until it pooled around her ankles on the floor. She stepped out of it, at the same time kicking off her shoes.

He paused to admire the peach silk teddy that clung to her skin. “So beautiful,” he muttered against her neck as he undid the clasp. The teddy fell away, her body exposed to his touch.

Quickly he shed his own clothes, then lowered her onto the bed.

“I’ve wanted you from the moment I first saw you,” he said, his voice tender, almost a murmur. He ran a fingertip lightly down her shoulder to the curve of her breast. Each caress, each whispered word, made Alexa want him all the more.

Looking at her intently, he asked, “Are you afraid?”

In answer, she ran her hands down his bare back,  feeling the strength of him, pulling him closer so  their skin touched.

He made love to her slowly, tenderly. His teeth nipped at her tongue, teasing and tasting her until she moved against him in a haze of hunger. He caressed her breasts, her nipples hardening instantly under his touch.

Alexa moaned softly and felt the hardness of his arousal pressing into the soft flesh of her thigh. His lips were warm and moist, his tongue an erotic delight as he explored her body. Helplessly, she arched, as his fingers skimmed the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.

His warm breath seared her skin as his lips followed the trail left by his fingers. When they closed around her sensitive swollen nipples all she could think about was having him fill her body with his.

With infinite gentleness, he entered her. His hands cupped her face, his eyes never leaving hers. The intensity of his desire made her whole body tighten with pleasure. There was nothing slow then, just a crazy urgency that held them in a tight embrace.

Alexa heard a moan and knew it was hers. His hands caught her hips as he arched heavily into her, their climax inevitable.

For a long time they lay quietly together, her cheek nestled against his shoulder, his thigh resting intimately between hers. Matt brushed a kiss across her shoulder, and put a hand over hers where it rested on his chest.

“I care about you, Alexa. I want you to know that.” His dark, earnest eyes sought hers. “I want to hold you in my arms again, soon”.

She titled her head so she could see his face. “Oh, Matt, I want that too.”

He kissed her deeply, lingeringly, filling her body with a sweet, aching longing. They made love again. Alexa fell asleep with his arm around her protectively.


London, Ten days later.


Alexa handed Matt a cup of coffee “So tell me, how long have you worked for Atreus Security?” His night-coloured eyes met hers and widened in astonishment, but he remained silent.

“I see you don’t deny it.”

“What’s the point? The government felt it prudent; having the country’s foremost physicist attend a symposium in Rome without protection was far too risky. The minister knew you wouldn’t agree to a bodyguard—”

“Damn right!”

“—so he contacted my employers. They sent my team on ahead of the meeting.”

“Team? Just how many people were watching me?”

“Two, besides myself; Tom Jefferson and Ingrid Macy.”

“Let me guess, the blond haired man I saw in the restaurant and hotel?”

Matt nodded. “Tom flew out ahead of the conference. Ingrid sat next to you on the plane. I sat in the row behind and across the aisle where I could see anyone approach you.”

“I never saw you.”

“You weren’t supposed to.”

Her green eyes blazed with resentment. “That still doesn’t excuse the fact you lied to me!”

“Not about anything important.”

“So what are you? Ex-army? Ex-Marines? Ex-MI5?”

“I was a member of the Special Air Service before I became a close protection officer. I’ve been employed by Atreus Security for three years.”

Alexa wasn’t surprised by his admission. From the way he carried himself she’d suspected as much. His extreme self confidence gave her the impression he was able to navigate his way out of any situation.

“And I suppose you’re going to tell me that posing as a representative of RDS Cryogenic Systems, and wining and dining me every evening, was part of your brief.”

Matt put down his cup and stepped towards her. Alexa shuffled backwards until she felt the table dig into the small of her back. Suddenly, her kitchen seemed claustrophobically tiny.

“It was the only way I could be close enough to ensure your safety at all times.”

“You could have told me the truth from the start,” she whispered. “I didn’t have to hear it from a colleague.” Her cheeks burned with renewed humiliation as she recalled the conversation she’d overheard that morning between Liam, her assistant, and one of the laboratory technicians. Their ribald laughter still echoed in her ears. She’d crept away, too embarrassed to say anything, and hidden in the ladies room until the anger and resentment she’d felt subsided sufficiently for her to continue with her work.

“No, you didn’t. And, if it makes you feel better, I’d planned on telling you myself when the right opportunity presented itself.”

A swift shadow of anger swept across her face. “And that’s supposed to make everything all right?” She turned, and stared out of the window, unable to meet his gaze. All the way home from the lab she hoped and prayed that Liam had been wrong—that she and Matt had met by accident—that their burgeoning romance was based on mutual understanding, respect, and love, rather than contrived by some government official in a grubby little office in Whitehall.

No matter how hard she tried, Alexa couldn’t prevent her bitterness from spilling over into her voice. “You know what annoys me most about this… this charade?” she demanded, whirling back to him.

His voice was calm, his gaze steady. “No, but I’m sure you’ll tell me.”

“I actually believed you. I thought—” her voice cracked. She shook her head in a desperate attempt to maintain her composure, but Matt was too close. The familiar scent of his cologne was intoxicating. The heat of his body reminded her of the night he held her in his arms and they’d danced until the sun had crept over the horizon. She took a deep breath and pushed back the tears that threatened to fall. “I thought that at last I’d met someone I could be with—someone I could love, then I find you’re a bodyguard hired to protect me. Ever heard of the Stockholm Syndrome?”

“Um...no.”

“Captives sometimes get emotionally involved with their captors.”

“And you thought that was happening to us?”

“I wondered whether the same principle applied to the protected and their protector, yes. Damn it, Matt. I thought you enjoyed my company and wanted to be with me, but it’s all just a job to you.”

“It was never a job to me.”

“Matt… ” Alexa started to interrupt.

“No let me finish. I’m thirty-six years old, Alexa. This was never just an affair as far as I’m concerned. I’ve broken all the rules; put my career on the line because I wanted us to continue seeing each other.”

“Really? Are you sure it isn’t so you can boast to the boys back at the office?” she retorted tartly.

“I would never do that.” He took her hands in his and pulled her into his arms.

Her instinctive response to him was so powerful. She felt a familiar shiver of desire. Despite her anger toward him, the olive-black eyes that held hers brimmed with tenderness and passion. Her heart fluttered, her pulse pounded in response, but the nagging in the back of her mind refused to be stilled. She squirmed and wriggled, and tried to free herself from his grasp, but he was too strong. Her instincts told her to lash out, and hurt him as much as he’d hurt her, but her body longed for comfort, for reassurance that everything they’d shared during the last two weeks had been real. She flattened her palms against his chest in one last effort to push him away.

“I know you’re angry,” he said softly.

“Angry? Angry doesn’t begin to describe how I feel. Add humiliated to the list of adjectives.”

“Alexa, I would never knowingly hurt you. But don’t you see? It had to be that way?” His expression stilled and grew serious as he tucked a stray tendril of auburn hair away from her cheek. “If you’d known I’d been hired to protect you, you would have behaved differently. The government received a tip that a terrorist cell was going use the symposium as cover to kidnap you, before smuggling you out of Italy. Have you any idea what would have happened if they had succeeded?”

Alexa shook her head.

His expression hardened. “You’d have been tortured until you gave the kidnappers the information they wanted. Then, most likely, you’d have been killed.”

She shuddered, and choked back a cry. The anger she felt all day evaporated only to be replaced by fear. A cold knot formed in her stomach, her blood pumped in her ears. She snuggled up against him without thinking. Frightened by the fearful images building in her mind, her body sagged against his. For one horrible moment she thought that she would faint. She buried her face against his throat, and tried to block out the images he’d painted. A protective hand gathered her into his arms molding her soft curves to the contours of his lean body.

“You may be good at your job, sweetheart, but you’re a mere child when it comes to the real world.” He studied her thoughtfully for a heartbeat. “When I took this assignment, I thought it would be just that—another job. I didn’t realize that you’d become such an important part of my life.”

Alexa bit her lip. Her heart wanted to believe him, but her mind wasn’t sure that she could. “I bet you say that to all the women you’re ordered to protect.”

“You’re the first,” he whispered into her hair, “and you’ll be the last. I mean it, Alexa.”

“But—”

He placed a fingertip on her lips to silence her. “Every day I saw you, my feelings for you intensified. I should have put some space between us, asked to be replaced by another operative, but I didn’t because I couldn’t bear the thought of anyone else being responsible for your safety. Doesn’t that tell you something about how I feel?”

“I… yes, I suppose it does.”

“Then how we met doesn’t matter, does it?” His steady gaze travelled over her face and searched her eyes. “The only important thing is how we feel about each other.” He cupped her chin tenderly in his warm hand. “All I want is for you to give me a chance to prove to you that what we shared during that week in Rome is real. Alexa?”

His touch was soft and caressing; the desire in his eyes plain for her to see. She could hardly breathe, much less think. When his lips brushed her cheek a quiver surged through her veins, heating her blood.

“I thought—”

“You thought I was acting a part.”

“Yes.”

“Didn’t you realize I’d fallen in love with you?”

The heavy lashes that shadowed her cheek flew up. Their eyes met, and a shock of pleasure surged through her. “You love me?”

“Of course I do. Why else would I want to spend the rest of my life with you? Marry me, Alexa?”

Matt’s kiss was slow, thoughtful, and left her aching for more. When his mouth recaptured hers, she moaned softly, and gave into the demands of his lips. A shiver of wanting ran through her and she realized that he was right—the only thing that mattered was the love they felt for each other.

A slow, secret smile curved her mouth. “I guess the legend was true after all.”




The Riddle by Jacqueline Seewald



"I reckon if a body wants to know what hell is like, all he has to do is come here for a spell." J.D. Macauley squinted his azure eyes toward the scorching summer sun, and for dramatic effect, wiped the sweat from his incredibly handsome face. I decided he'd missed his calling and should have become a movie actor.

"Come on, Cowboy, didn't you tell me you worked at that Anasazi site in New Mexico last summer? I bet that was just as hot and dry as Giza. Anyway, nobody's forcing any of us to stay and work," I said. "We're not slaves unto Pharaoh."

"That is quite true," Tiny, who was anything but, agreed in his singsong voice. "You must realize that you are building a professional resume for the future." Tiny was a giant of a man, a coffee-colored Jamaican who had been educated in England. He was our chief engineer on the project.

J.D. and I were both grad students. He was studying to be an archaeologist while I was a microbiologist with a dual major in forensic pathology. We were also both in the research phase of our dissertations.

I was beginning to feel light-headed. Clearly, the heat was getting to me as well. I had just started to black out when J.D. swept me up in his muscular arms.

"Careful, darlin'."

Maybe I was out of it, but it seemed as if electricity sizzled between us. He looked at me funny and I thought he must have felt something too.

"A cold drink might be pretty nice about now," I said huskily.

J.D. gave me a wide, toothy smile. "Let's go chow down," he said. "I'm suddenly feeling mighty hungry." Was that a double entendre? The look he gave me implied he was hungry all right but not necessarily for food.

"I believe I will join you," Tiny said. "Only mad dogs and Englishmen stay out in the midday sun." Tiny nodded toward Dr. William Grey-Hodges, the prominent British Egyptologist who led our group, and Dr. Joseph Langer, his American counterpart. They were arguing passionately, and the air between them seemed hotter than anywhere else, which was saying something.

Joe, as Dr. Langer told us to call him, was gesturing vigorously while Dr. Grey-Hodges' usually calm, cool demeanor was marred by red splotches in his cheeks. He was a diminutive man who nevertheless managed to dominate those around him by means of a superior attitude and sarcastic wit. We carefully scooted around them.

Tiny, J.D. and I walked into the dining tent without further comment. It was cooler here and I sat down with a sense of relief. J.D. got us chilled bottles of water and we kicked back and relaxed.

"Wonder what they're arguing about," J.D. said, removing his big, white Stetson. He ran his hands through his wavy, butter-colored hair and my hand itched to do the same.

"No secret there," Tiny said with an air of authority. "They are diametrically opposed on the nature of this dig. Joe believes the newer theories regarding the Sphinx while William believes the traditional theory that the Sphinx was carved from bedrock during the reign of Khafre as a self-tribute to Pharaoh. Joe believes that the sculpture is in actuality thousands of years older than the pyramids."

"Who do you think is right?" I asked Tiny.

He shrugged. "They both offer good arguments. It is hard to say."

J.D. smiled, a dimple winking in his right cheek. "Well, ain't you just the diplomat! What do you really think, Legs?"

That was the nickname J.D. had given me, in honor of the fact that I'm tall and long-stemmed. I also wear shorts most days that accentuate my legs. Being the only female on the project, I suppose they get noticed more, although I do try to blend in with the guys.

"I'm not taking sides on the issue," I said.

He gave me a sexy smile that would have turned my blood to fire if I wasn't so heat-beat to begin with.

"Afraid to tell us what you think? I can't believe it. You're such a liberated woman."

"Shows how much you know," I said. "I'm just an old-fashioned girl who wants what every woman wants."

He gave me a dubious look, narrowing those big, sky blue eyes of his. "If that's true, what are you doing here on this dig?"

"Well, a girl can't just sit around eating bonbons and waiting for Mr. Right to knock at her door. I'm a working girl until some billionaire carries me off to his mansion."

"You have right interesting fantasies," J.D. said in teasing tone of voice.

"You don't know the half of it," I answered.

He let out a deep, seductive laugh. His eyes twinkled.

"The two of you will have to flirt some other time," Tiny said. "It is unseemly in my presence."

I was about to suggest that Tiny move his girth elsewhere when Joe and Dr. Grey-Hodges entered the dining tent, still arguing loudly.

"It's clear to me that the severe weathering and erosion on the face of the Sphinx were caused not by winds and blowing sand but by rain. Therefore, the Sphinx must have been built thousands of years earlier than originally thought, during the time when Egypt was wet and not arid."

"Utterly absurd, Joseph, it could also be the result of wet sand from Nile floods or morning dew that condensed and expanded natural salt in the rock causing layers to erode. I've had geologists go over the area thoroughly."

"And I've heard counter-arguments from just as well qualified geologists." Joe folded his arms over his broad expanse of chest and raised his square jaw.

"We shall probably never know for certain, will we?" Dr. Grey-Hodges noticed me passing by at that point and turned a disdainful glance toward me. His expression was distinctly disapproving.

I don't believe that Dr. Grey-Hodges would have accepted my application and allowed me on the dig if he had realized at the time that I was a woman. I didn't purposefully mislead him. I never liked my name, Geraldine, and so years ago shortened it to just plain Gery, the name I placed on my application.

Name change was my way of establishing my independence, of re-inventing myself. I'd graduated a parochial school in the Boston suburbs where the nuns insisted I be formally addressed as Geraldine Margaret. But once I was in college, I shed that moniker as readily as I discarded my school uniforms. Nowadays, I dressed as informally and comfortably as possible. My curly auburn hair was cut short and I wore no make-up or jewelry. Queen Nefertiti and I would have had little in common.

Anyway, the distinguished Dr. Grey-Hodges, he of the silver-white hair and proper old school manner, would clearly have been pleased if I left the project. He never spoke to me if he could avoid it. I much preferred Joe who was closer to my own age and always had a smile and a kind word for everyone.

I returned to my table with another round of water bottles. "I thought the dig was going well," I said.

Tiny raised one brow expressively. "When one works at the Great Sphinx, there is always the riddle to contend with, and the mystery that enshrouds it."

"Let's see. Doesn't everyone know the riddle? What animal walks on all fours in the morning, two legs at noon, and three legs at night?"

“I believe the answer to that is man. However, I was referring to the mystery that our two worthy Egyptologists are disagreeing about. I fear the leonine body and royal face have sparked an angry debate among scientists."

"Want to explain that in a little more detail, partner?" J.D. asked, taking a deep swallow of his drink, as his Adam's apple moved powerfully. For my part, it was hard to resist using my finger to follow the lines of that very masculine throat. I think I let out a small sigh of appreciation.

Tiny leaned forward, speaking softly. "If the Sphinx were built millenniums earlier than originally believed, then who carved it? Certainly not the Egyptians for they did not as yet exist. Where are the traces of the people who built it? Where did such sophisticated skills in rock carving knowledge come from? That is the contentious question."

Dr. Grey-Hodges bristled out of the dining tent, Joe's thoughtful gaze following him.

"Join us," Tiny called across to Joe. "No one at this table has the strength left to argue."

"There's enough heat out there," J.D. agreed. "We don't need to manufacture our own."