Intimate Relations: Awakened Part 1

Intimate Relations.

Awakened.

Kate Douglas.

Finis.h.i.+ng Awakened, the third and final book in my Intimate Relations series, has been a bittersweet experience. As always happens with a series, I've grown really attached to my characters. With this book, I'm telling them goodbye. They've lived in my head, been a huge part of my writing life, and whispered their secrets to me when I'm lying in bed, trying to figure out what they're up to next. Their voices aren't even whispering to me at this point, and I already miss them. I know, however, there are always more out there!

This book is dedicated, with much appreciation and not a little bit of humility, to the amazing women who helped me bring this series-these characters-to life.

My agent, Jessica Faust, president and owner of BookEnds Literary Agency, has been my guiding light in this often convoluted world of publis.h.i.+ng almost since the very beginning of my career. She has helped me grow my career over the years, and there aren't enough superlatives to describe her skills. (For a writer, that's admitting a lot.) St. Martin's Press editor Eileen Rothschild saw the potential in my wine country series, and helped me create much better stories than if I'd been left to my own devices. Thank you, Eileen, for your insightful edits and your patience. My thanks also go to Amy Goppert, my SMP publicist, who has done her best to let all of you know about my books, and hopefully entice you to buy them.

These three amazingly talented (and very busy!) women are a major part of the team that helps me bring my stories to life. I owe them a huge debt of grat.i.tude as well as my sincere thanks.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS.

When I realized that Marcus Reed, my male protagonist in Awakened, had to recover memories lost during a traumatic childhood event, I went to Roger Dent, MBA, CCHt, a Master Hypnotist and Certified Clinical Hypnotherapist (CCHt) (www.rogercdent.com). He freely shared his experience and knowledge of the field of hypnotherapy, which helped me create the character who is my Master Hypnotist in Awakened as well as figure out how I was going to help Marc discover what had been haunting him throughout his adult life. Please note that any mistakes or misinterpretations you might note in the book regarding the hypnotic process are entirely mine.

I also want to acknowledge and thank my intrepid beta readers for once again finding the time to read my work before I ever send it to the editor. They have saved me countless times from making a complete fool of myself! (Editor Eileen Rothschild owes them, too ... if not for my betas, she'd know what my writing is really like!) Jay Takane, Ann Jacobs, Karen Woods, Sue Thomas, Kerry Parker, Lynne Thomas, and Rose Toubbeh, you have made this job so much more fun, and my stories better. Please know I am more appreciative than you can possibly imagine. Thank you!

And as always, a big thank you to my husband, who actually seems to understand how to deal with marriage to a writer-and who does it so well.

CHAPTER 1.

He'd been here so many times before, this room that was almost familiar, the wall of mirrors reflecting an image he'd tried to forget. He didn't know the woman who struggled. Couldn't see the face of the man whose hands encircled her throat. Marc didn't know who they were or when this happened. Not until they turned. He watched her slim body sag and disappear from view. Raised his head and gazed in horror at the man in the mirror.

Marc stared into the eyes of a killer. His very own dark brown eyes.

"Marc? I've got honey oat m.u.f.fins just out of the oven. Are you awake?"

Mandy. He rolled to his back, sucked in a deep breath and concentrated on slowing his racing heart. "Be out in a minute. I overslept."

"Don't worry. I'll keep them warm for you. Not gonna let you starve."

He heard her laughing as she went back down the hall. The last remnants of the dream faded away, but Mandy was in the kitchen and the m.u.f.fins were warm.

All was once again right with the world.

"Hey Marc! Your cell phone's calling you."

Marc reached into his pocket and laughed. "c.r.a.p, Ben. Where is it? I thought I had it."

"Sounds like your bedroom."

With a half-a.s.sed salute, Ben Lowell threw his military duffle over his shoulder and headed for the front door. Marc raced down the hall to his bedroom and grabbed the phone off the bedside table. It stopped ringing the moment he reached for it, so he glanced at the caller ID before returning the call.

No. On second thought, he wasn't about to return this b.a.s.t.a.r.d's call. A notification popped up, telling him he had voicemail. He deleted the message without listening, shoved his phone in his pocket, and went back to the front room.

It looked like the cab was here for Ben and his fiancee, Lola Monroe. "This your bag, Lola?" When she nodded, he said, "I'll take it down." He picked it up and pretended to fall over. "Pack the set of horseshoes for the trip? Gonna play a game on the mall in DC?"

"Of course." Lola's expression never wavered. "Thank you. Tell Ben I'll be there in just a sec." Then she went back to her conversation with her sister Mandy, an extension of what the guys had been calling the long goodbye over the past few days. The girls were close. He wondered how Mandy was going to handle the two of them being apart for at least a week.

Though his biggest concern was how he was going to handle being alone with Mandy. Worrying about it had kept him awake nights for most of the week, but there was nothing he could do about it now. Hauling Lola's suitcase, he headed down the front stairs to the waiting cab.

The moment the door closed behind Marc, Mandy remembered. "Don't go yet, Lola!" She raced back into the kitchen and grabbed the bag of chocolate chip cookies off the kitchen counter. She caught her sister as she was reaching for her new carry-on bag.

Lola paused at the door. "Okay. What'd I forget now?"

"You didn't. I did. I forgot to give you the cookies I baked for you and Ben to munch along the way."

"Yum! Thank you." Laughing, she took the cookies from Mandy. "You realize, I actually hope we'll both be sleeping. I can't believe my first trip in an airplane's going to be in the dark. I won't get to see anything." She stuck the cookies in her bag. "Thanks. I'm going to miss you."

"I'm going to miss you, too. Now hurry. The cab's here."

Lola gave her a tight hug and whispered in her ear, "You just want me out of here so you can finally get Marc all to yourself."

"Yeah. Like that's going to do any good." Mandy exhaled. Loudly. Frustration was too simple a word, especially when Marcus Reed and his lack of interest wasn't the only thing that had her upset tonight. "Text or call me when you two get to your hotel, okay?"

"I will. Love you, sis." Lola winked and added, "Good luck."

Smiling, because that was the best she could do, Mandy merely shrugged. "One can hope. You, too. Have a safe trip. Let me know when you get there."

"Promise."

One last hug, and then Lola was practically skipping down the stairs. Ben grabbed her bags and stuck them in the trunk while Marc helped Lola into the back seat, leaned in to kiss her cheek, and then shook Ben's hand before Ben got in beside Lola. Mandy waited beneath the porch light and waved as the cab pulled away from the curb, heading to San Francisco International Airport.

Silly, how she actually felt sort of weepy, standing here on the top step, watching Lola leave with Ben. She and her sister had never really been apart, but they'd been alone so much as kids, they had practically raised themselves. Now Lola was headed to DC with Ben while he testified at a pretrial hearing in a case against a powerful senator. They'd be gone at least a week.

Yeah, she was going to miss Lola, and Ben, too, but not for the obvious reason. Their absence meant she'd be here alone with a man she'd l.u.s.ted after for years.

One she'd fallen head over heels in love with when they'd finally met.

A man who'd been one of their roommates for a little over two months now-sixty-three days, to be exact. The only problem? Marc didn't notice Mandy at all. Why should he? The guy was gorgeous, brilliant, rich-the list was endless-while Mandy was nothing but the ex-barista for a now defunct coffee shop. She'd still had a job this morning, but she hadn't quite gotten around to telling any of her roommates she'd suddenly joined the ranks of the unemployed.

Standing alone, watching Marc as he said goodbye to Ben and Lola, she wished she were something better, someone more. A woman Marc might look up to and respect. A woman he could love.

He turned then, glanced at the house, and actually made eye contact with her for one brief moment. Then he bowed his head and, with both hands shoved deep in his pants pockets, walked slowly toward the front steps.

He couldn't have made his feelings any more obvious. It was clear he was dreading the idea of the two of them alone together for however long the hearings in Was.h.i.+ngton, DC lasted. Sighing, Mandy turned away and went inside. Marc walked slowly up the steps and followed her into the living room.

She'd wondered for weeks what it would be like, finally to be here alone with Marc.

Now she knew. It was going to be absolutely heartbreaking.

"Seems really strange with them gone, doesn't it?" Staring at Mandy's slim back as she walked through the front room and into the kitchen, Marc wondered how he was going to handle the next week. d.a.m.n, he hoped the hearings didn't last any longer.

Mandy opened the cabinet over the sink and grabbed a bottle of gin. "You have no idea," she said. Turning, she held up the bottle. "I think it calls for gin and tonic. You want one?"

She looked stiff and uncomfortable. Mandy was usually so laid back, relaxed, and cheerful. She always managed to make him laugh, and he enjoyed being around her. He'd worked really hard at keeping his feelings buried, and she'd made it easy. She hadn't come on to him the way so many women did-especially the ones who knew what he was worth.

He'd never realized what a problem having money could be, but Mandy wasn't the least bit impressed. She teased him the way she teased her friends Kaz and Jake, and Ben and her sister. She treated Marc exactly the same as the ones she thought of as her family, and yet she had no idea how much that meant to him.

Tonight though, she really wasn't acting like herself. He had no idea at all what was going on, but a drink sounded like a good place to start. "Yeah," he said. "I'll get the lime and tonic water."

"Thanks." She set the bottle on the counter, paused there for a moment, and then bowed her head. "I'm sorry. I'm not going to be very good company. I already miss Lola." She raised her head and sent him a sad little smile. "We've never been apart more than a couple of days. Not ever."

"She said this is her first flight."

Mandy nodded. "It is. I'm still waiting for my turn." She sighed and handed the bottle to him when he reached for it.

"Sit," he said. "I'll make 'em."

"Thanks." She took one of the stools at the counter, propped an elbow on the granite, and rested her chin in her palm. She looked absolutely lost.

This went way beyond her sister going on a trip.

He kept glancing her way as he grabbed two gla.s.ses out of another cabinet, found the tonic water in the refrigerator, and snagged a lime out of the basket on the counter. She hadn't budged, hadn't said a word. "Cheer up, Mandy. She'll be back before you know it."

Mandy nodded and stared out the back window.

He added ice and mixed the drinks, but it was weird with Mandy so quiet. She usually had something funny to say about everything. Not tonight, but he wondered if it might be something else-her gloomy behavior seemed a little excessive just because Lola had taken off on a trip.

Maybe she just needed to relax. He knew he did. Ever since he'd learned that Ben and Lola were going to make this trip, that he and Mandy would be here alone, he'd been a wreck.

He finished making the drinks and topped them off with an extra shot of gin. Then, squeezing a slice of lime into each of the gla.s.ses, he handed one to Mandy.

"Thanks." She took a sip and sighed. "Tastes good. How come we never put you in charge of the drinks?"

"All you have to do is ask." He took the stool beside hers and sipped his drink. Maybe he was taking a risk, sitting so close, but something was wrong and it wasn't in him to ignore a friend. Especially Mandy. "Okay, Mandy. Are you going to tell me what's really bothering you?"

She shook her head, but at least she smiled. "How'd you know?"

"Big block letters scrawled across your pouty little face."

This time she laughed. "You are such a charmer."

"Perceptive, too, I think." He wished he could tell her how many nights he'd fallen asleep, imagining her above him, beneath him, her honey-blond hair framing her beautiful face.

No way was that going to happen. Not with Mandy.

She was much too special, and he cared for her too much to take the risk. He never touched Mandy, never allowed himself the luxury, but for whatever reason, he reached out and used his fingers to push her long bangs out of her eyes.

Her head snapped up at his touch, her lips parted. Her brown eyes, so unusually dark with all that streaky blond hair waving this way and that around her face, had filled with questions.

He ignored them. "Talk to me, Mandy. Tell me."

"I lost my job today." Her lips trembled, she rubbed her hand over her eyes, and Marc wanted to hold her so much he ached.

"What happened?"

Mandy let out a slow breath, but she wouldn't look at him. "My boss shut the coffee shop down without any notice or warning. I've worked there for seven years, and there was nothing, no 'thank you for all your help,' nothing. I went in this morning to work and she handed me my final paycheck and said she'd decided to close this one because the new shop was doing so well. When I think of all the hours I've worked without overtime, all the days off I've given up..." She raised her head and her expression was bleak. "I feel used, Marc. Like I never mattered to her at all. I thought we were friends. I watched her kids for her when she was in a bind, took her soup when she was sick, but she opened a new shop downtown, hired all new people, and closed this one without even warning me."

"That sucks, Mandy. d.a.m.n. I am so sorry." He wasn't sure how, but in a heartbeat she slipped past his defenses. He had his arms around her, holding her the way he'd dreamed since the first time he met her a little over two months ago. She felt even better than he'd imagined. Her cotton knit dress hugged her curves, and once he held her, he knew she wasn't wearing a bra. Everything about Mandy felt soft and warm and so wonderfully feminine.

Her hands slipped over his waist, slowly crept around him, almost tentatively, as if she wasn't sure of his response, so he hugged her tighter. She needed it right now, needed him.

And d.a.m.n it all, he needed her. Needed Mandy Monroe more than he'd ever needed or wanted anyone or anything in his entire life.

She'd wondered what it would feel like if Marc ever hugged her. She'd imagined all the bells and whistles, the thrill of their bodies coming together, the s.h.i.+vers and fireworks of s.e.xual awareness she'd read about but had never experienced. Now? As she nestled close to his broad chest, heard the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear, felt the warmth of his breath on her cheek, she felt none of those things. What she felt was something so much stronger, so powerful, it left her stunned.

For the first time since she was a little girl growing up with the world's most dysfunctional mother, Mandy felt as if she'd truly come home. Sighing, she allowed herself this one moment in time and held on to Marcus Reed as if she'd never let him go.

But the most amazing part of his simple hug given for comfort? It didn't feel like Marc wanted to let go of her, either.

Long minutes later, he sighed. "You okay?"

Well, she knew it had to end at some point. "Yeah." Drawing in a deep breath, she straightened. "Thanks."

He smiled as he released her; she sat straighter on her stool in front of the counter. Took a sip of her drink. Stared at the lime slice floating on top of the ice. It was easier than looking at Marc, easier than seeing that "I'm your good buddy" look on his face.

His drop-dead gorgeous face. And the best thing about all that absolute deliciousness? He didn't have a clue how attractive she found him. He was naturally cla.s.sy, his body trim and toned, not muscle-bound, but all lean strength and almost patrician good looks. His short, thick hair was so dark brown it was almost black, and he wore it neatly trimmed most of the time. Only on a few occasions had it come even close to touching his collar the way it was now. Marc looked like an aristocrat-it was easy to imagine him in a sleek, black tux, sipping a martini in a cla.s.sy nightclub somewhere.

Not here in her kitchen wearing a ragged T-s.h.i.+rt that fit like a second skin, and faded black jeans resting low on his hips, hugging his perfect b.u.t.t.

Even his bare feet were s.e.xy.

"I've got an idea." He stood and held out a hand, bringing her back to reality.

Raising her head, she grinned at him. "What? Besides getting blitzed on gin and tonic, that is." She took his hand. They never held hands unless he was tugging her somewhere, but she'd never been so aware of being alone with him before. She glanced at their clasped hands. He must really be feeling sorry for her.