A Question of Love (13 page)

The voice of an angel, a husband who loved her
—
she had it all…until a tragedy took it away.

Songbird

© 2009 Maya Banks

A
Linger
Story

They called her their Songbird, but she was never theirs. Not in the way she wanted.

The Donovan brothers meant everything to Emily, but rejected by Greer and Taggert, she turned to Sean, the youngest. He married her for love, and she loved him, but she also loved his older brothers.

Her singing launched her to stardom. She had it all. The voice of an angel, a husband who loved her, and the adoration of millions. Until a tragedy took it all away.

Taggert and Greer grieve for their younger brother, but they’re also grieving the loss of Emmy, their songbird. They take her back to Montana, determined to help her heal and show her once and for all they want her. They’re also on a mission to help her find her voice again. Under the protective shield of their love, she begins to blossom…until an old threat resurfaces.

Now the Donovans face a fight for what they once threw away. Only by winning it—and her love—will their songbird fly again.

Warning: Explicit sex, ménage a trois, multiple partners, a committed polyamorous relationship, adult language, and sweet loving.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Songbird:

The gentle strains of a guitar woke Emily from her sleep. She blinked fuzzily, wondering if it was just part of a dream. It was still dark outside, but a quick glance at the clock told her dawn wasn’t far off.

A haunting melody, so simple and beautiful, floated over her ears. Her chin trembled. It was the first song she’d recorded—a song she’d written long ago when she and the Donovan brothers had spent a spring afternoon in the rain.
Mountain Rain
.

She closed her eyes and let the chords take her back to the nights spent round a campfire, Sean playing the guitar while she sang. Taggert and Greer sat by the fire, their long legs stretched out, their brims pulled low over their foreheads and their worn boots reflecting the flicker of the flames.

Drawn to the music, she eased out of bed and walked into the hallway to stand at the top of the stairs. Clad in only her flannel PJs, she followed the sound of the guitar down to the living room and realized it was coming from the front porch.

Her legs shook, and she had to steady herself by reaching down to grasp the arm of the couch. Who was playing? And moreover, her song?

The words to the song floated through her mind, and she was reminded of earlier, happier days. Carefree.

She opened the front door and stepped into the chilly morning air. The music stopped, and she found herself staring at Taggert, his hand frozen over the strings as he stared back at her.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Taggert said.

“I didn’t know you played.”

He glanced down at the guitar, and it was then she realized it was Sean’s.

“I don’t play well. Been fiddling with it for the last year.”

“It sounded beautiful,” she said in a low voice.

He looked back up at her, his gaze roving over her face until she could feel it caressing her cheek.

“Will you sing if I play?”

Her hand flew to her throat and she shook her head forcefully. “No. I c-can’t.”

“Why can’t you?” he persisted. “Emmy, it’s been a year. Yours is the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard in my life. You have a talent that astounds me, and you’re wasting it.”

She shook her head again, unable to voice her terror, to admit her guilt, that it was because of the voice he loved so much that Sean was dead. She hated it. She couldn’t even think about singing without her throat closing in on her.

She sank down onto one of the rockers. “Play for me,” she begged.

His fingers stuttered over the strings for a moment, clumsy at first, and then he strummed the first chords of
Montana Memories
, a song she’d written specifically for the Donovan brothers. Did he know? Had he guessed?

She wrapped herself in the beauty of the music, allowing it to give her comfort when nothing else had. When the last note died and the skies began to lighten in preparation for sunrise, she sought his gaze and asked the question burning a hole in her mind.

“Why?”

His brow furrowed. “Why what?”

“Why did you come after me? Why did you bring me back here? Why…do you and Greer act as though I mean something to you…more than being your brother’s widow?”

He sucked in his breath and carefully laid the guitar aside. His hands wiped along the tops of his legs and then gripped the area just above his knees. He looked…nervous. That puzzled her. Taggert was brash, temperamental, outspoken, opinionated, but she’d never seen him nervous.

“We made a mistake,” he said in a raw voice. “One that’s cost us a lot. One we’ll regret making the rest of our lives.”

“We?”

“Greer and I, but he’s not here, so I can only speak for me.
I
made a mistake, Emmy. I pushed you away. I was surprised, even a little appalled that you claimed to love all of us, that you wanted to be with us. I was angry—jealous—and so I sent you away.”

She stared at him in shock. Had he changed his mind?
Now?
After four years?

“Don’t you see, Emmy? If I hadn’t sent you away, you could have been with us. You would have never turned to Sean the way you did and the two of you wouldn’t have left here. You would have been happy and wouldn’t have spent so much time avoiding us. You and Sean would have stayed here and not in a hotel in town, and you damn sure wouldn’t have been walking back to the hotel from the café the night Sean was killed.”

Oh God, it hurt. She couldn’t breathe. She wanted to deny that he was at fault, but she couldn’t find the words. Her mind screamed
no, no, no
in a never-ending litany, but instead of saying it, she got up and walked back into the house, leaving Taggert calling after her.

She walked past the living room, through the kitchen to the back door with no destination in mind. She let herself out, shivering when her bare feet made contact with the cold ground.

She went in the opposite direction of the stables, through the gate and down the worn pathway to the pond. The water looked dark and forbidding in the faint light, and she hurried on until she topped the slight rise beyond.

She came to a stumbling halt by the large oak tree that sheltered the headstones beneath. Some of them old, dating back a hundred years, and one much newer.

It wasn’t necessary for the sun to shed its light over the engraving. She knew it by heart.
Sean Donovan, beloved brother and husband
.

Pain. Unrelenting pain. A tiny crack formed in the thick ice protecting her. Spreading rapidly, splintering in all directions. Unstoppable.

Panic swelled in her chest. A garbled noise caught in her throat. She couldn’t breathe and oh God, it
hurt
. She needed help. She was going to explode. Something was terribly wrong. She was losing control and felt her insides straining against unbearable pressure.

She tried to take a breath and then another. Her eyes flooded with tears and sobs piled up deep inside her chest. The agony was unbearable. She was going to break. Maybe she was having a heart attack. How could it hurt so much?

A horrible noise echoed across the hillside, startling her, and then shockingly, she realized the sound came from
her
, from the very bowels of hell.

Another followed, and she fell to her knees as finally, she shattered.

The best mistake she ever made…

With or Without You

© 2008 KyAnn Waters

Tessa Brooks is dated. Not dated as in going out with men—having dinner and light conversation in poorly lit restaurants in hopes of finding someone with whom she can get naked. No, Tessa is dated. And the year she seems stuck in is 1988. The year her life changed.

With her twenty-year high school reunion coming up, Tessa’s daughter has surprised her with a makeover on the Jade Star television talk show. However, that’s not the only surprise. Enter Matt Toler, the best mistake she ever made. Tessa might not feel a ribbon of panic tightening around her neck if Matt had spoken to her again after their one-night sexual encounter…and if knew he had a daughter.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
With or Without You:

Tessa sat on the loveseat next to Matt. Her left knee jiggled a nervous tempo and, of course, he noticed. He covered her knee with his palm. The weight and warmth of his hand seared her flesh. Butterflies flitted about in her stomach. Her eyes locked on his hand.

He had long fingers with dark whorls of hair over the knuckles. They were hands of a man. Not the boy who had given her one night of teenage passion twenty years before, but hands she imagined drifting higher on her smooth thigh, slipping beneath her dress and seeking her heated folds.

Wetness dampened her panties. She squeezed her thighs together and shifted her knees.

Matt lifted questioning brown eyes and her breath caught in her throat, making swallowing difficult. She’d seen those same eyes often over the years. Matt had been starring in her nighttime fantasies since their magical encounter on that warm spring night.

“I’m sorry about all this. I thought it was a makeover show.” She clasped her hands in her lap. If only the couch could open up and swallow her whole. Mortification heated her cheeks. “I’m surprised too.”

She’d forgotten the lopsided smile that disarmed and could disrobe a girl in thirty seconds flat.

“Surprised is a good word. Tessa, it’s not an unpleasant surprise…just unexpected.”

He leaned back and settled more comfortably in the loveseat. His hip still rested against hers, sending alarming heat into her core. She hoped he couldn’t feel her temperature because she felt like a nuclear reactor with the red warning lights blazing and emitting dangerous levels of sexual radiation. Overexposure could lead to fried brain cells. Clearly hers had already been damaged. Had it been that damn long since a man had heated her to the point of meltdown from innocent skin contact? Well, okay, there was one memory, most likely distorted with age, supplying the fuel.

Damn, why did he have to look so good?

Dark hair, cut neat and clean around the ears, was left longer on top, enough so that the bit of natural curl tempted a woman’s fingers. Tessa clasped her hands in her lap before she reached up to comb a stray lock from his forehead with her fingertips.

Awkward silence stretched between them. Pressure built behind her eyes and her heart pounded hard and heavy. God, she felt like a fool. Her daughter had brought her one and only one-night stand to daytime talk.

“So where are you living these days?” Not that she needed to ask. He lived in Chicago. At least he had the last time she
Googled
his name.

“Chicago.”

More silence.

“Matt.” She adjusted her position so that she faced him directly. “This is awkward. Let’s just make the best of the situation. This has to be over soon. Exactly how many hours of footage do they need for a one-hour show?” She smoothed her dress, trying to inch it down her thighs. Had she known she’d be sitting with the one who had gotten away, she’d have chosen something more conservative.

The hot Hollywood starlet needed to go back to wardrobe. The sexy clothes were pickling her brain. Sexy clothes, sexy new look—however, she was too scared to play sexy kitten. She needed out of the situation. Rehashing the past would raise certain questions she wasn’t ready to answer…would never be ready to answer.

“Relax, Tessa.”

She hated the way he said her name. Okay, so she loved it. His voice was deep and smooth like fine brandy. She wanted to savor a sip. More than a sip, she wanted to get drunk. All of which posed a huge problem.

Mentally beating her libido into submission, she focused on the priority, getting through the show.

“We’re supposed to be getting reacquainted. I assume you aren’t married. At least, I hope the show wouldn’t try to set me up with a married woman.”

He smiled and her stomach swooped. Just as he had in high school, he turned her knees to jelly. Matt Toler had been her ideal for a boyfriend—too bad he’d always had another girl on his arm. Even if he hadn’t been the guy all the girls lusted after, they didn’t belong to the same cliques. Matt had been Mr. Popular and she’d just been…Tessa.

She laughed nervously. “I’m not married.”

“Divorced?”

She shook her head. “I never married.” She realized he might wonder about Brianna. Anyone could tell they were mother and daughter. But that’s not all they’d notice. Brianna was a perfect blend of her mother and her father. Tessa groaned.

“What’s wrong?”

Tessa snapped her eyes to his. “Oh nothing.” Just that she intended to keep as much distance between Brianna and Matt as possible. With her luck, Jade would notice the family resemblance and Tessa’s entire world would collapse around her.

As if she’d conjured the woman, Jade approached. Her smile widened. “Looks like our high school sweethearts are getting along.” She spoke into her microphone, at the same time keeping eye contact with the camera. “We have another surprise.”

Tessa didn’t think she could handle another surprise. All she’d wanted out of the show was a new haircut. If this day taught her anything it was to never procrastinate. If she’d taken the time to update her look, her daughter wouldn’t have had a reason to call the show. Lesson number two: never go on a talk show.

Matt stood and held a hand out to help Tessa. She slipped her hand into his. Warm strong fingers closed around hers. The heat moved up her arm. Tingles tightened her nipples beneath the silk of her dress. “Thank you,” she said, a bit breathless. High heels didn’t help the wobble in her knees.

Matt wrapped an arm around her waist and supported her against his side. He leaned in close, his breath tickling her ear, and whispered, “Let’s have some fun and make it good for the cameras.”

Make it good for the cameras, what’s that supposed to mean?
“Matt—” He stopped any further words by dragging her close. She caught sight of his devious grin a moment before he captured her lips. His mouth covered hers and her heart fluttered. Firm lips confidently moved against hers. This was nothing like she remembered.

This was better. A perfect kiss, lips to lips, tantalizing textures to tempt and to hint at the promise of passion given a more private setting. He didn’t try to part her lips, deepen the kiss, although she ached for a taste of his tongue.

Cheers of approval penetrated through the mind-numbing fog. Tessa slipped her hands between their bodies and pressed her palms to his chest. With a slight push she broke the kiss.