Lie Next to Me
Authors: Sandi Lynn
(A Millionaire’s Love)
Copyright © 2014 Sandi Lynn
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used factitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Cover Design by Cover It Designs
Photography by CJC Photography
Models: Nathan Tetreault & Alli Theresa
Editing by B.Z. Hercules
This book is dedicated to my romance fans. Without each and every one of you, Lie Next To Me would not have been possible. I hope you enjoy reading Ian & Rory’s journey as much as I did writing it!
Happy reading!
He’s not perfect. You aren’t either, and the two of you will never be perfect. But if he can make you laugh at least once, causes you to think twice, and if he admits to being human and making mistakes, hold onto him and give him the most you can. He isn’t going to quote poetry, he’s not thinking about you every moment, but he will give you a part of him that he knows you could break. Don’t hurt him, don’t change him, and don’t expect for more than he can give. Don’t analyze. Smile when he makes you happy, yell when he makes you mad, and miss him when he’s not there. Love hard when there is love to be had. Because perfect guys don’t exist, but there’s always one guy that is perfect for you.
Bob Marley
I fell in love with her courage, her sincerity, and her flaming self- respect. And it’s these things I’d believe in, even if the whole world indulged in wild suspicions that she wasn’t all she should be. I love her and it is the beginning of everything.
F. Scott Fitzgerald
Table of Contents
The pain was unbearable, but I had to keep moving. I had to keep running because, if I didn’t, he’d find me. I looked behind me as I ran through the streets; scared, alone, and in the dark as the mist of rain hit my face. There was no time to think and there was no time to stop. My shoes were soaked as they sloshed through the puddles of the dimly lit streets. As people passed by, they looked at me strangely. I kept my hand on my side as the throbbing pain continued deep inside me. I started to get dizzy, so I stopped in the alley and sat up against the brick wall. My breathing was shallow. I removed my hand from my side and held it up so the dim light could reflect on it. I gasped as the blood soaked my hand and dripped onto the cement. I started to shake, and I felt like I was going to lose consciousness, but I had to keep moving. As I stood up and leaned against the wall, I pressed my palm against my side and started moving out of the alley.
My mind kept flashing back to what had led me here in the first place. The fight, the rage, the look on his face that I’d never forget, and the knife plunging into my side. The sidewalk started to spin and the pain was getting worse. I didn’t know where I was, and I didn’t know where I was going until I bumped into a man, and he held onto me as I collapsed in his arms.
“Whoa, miss. Are you all right?”
I couldn’t speak, and I started to fall to the ground. I felt him take my hand from my side as he picked me up, carried me a few feet, and slid me into the back seat of a vehicle.
“What the hell, Joshua?” I heard a low voice say.
“She’s hurt and she needs medical attention. It looks like she’s been stabbed.”
“Call Dr. Graham, tell him what happened, and have him meet us at the house.”
“Don’t you think we should get her to the emergency room?”
“We can get back to the house quicker. Now let’s go.”
He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me down onto his lap. I felt the palm of his hand press against my wound as I flinched at the pain that shot through my body.
“Relax. We’ll get you all fixed up,” his low voice said. “Who did this to you?”
I tried to look up at him, but all I could see was darkness and shadows. My eyes slowly closed until I felt his strong hand grip my chin.
“Stay with me. Don’t close your eyes. You need to stay alert.”
“I−I can’t,” I whispered.
His grip on my chin tightened as he moved my head from side to side.
“You can and you will. It’s not a request; it’s a command. Do you understand me?”
Before I knew it, the vehicle had stopped and the door opened. After I was taken from the car, the man carried me inside and up the stairs.
“Lay her here, Ian, and let me do what I have to do,” I heard another male voice say.
“Is she going to be all right?” the low voice asked.
“I’ll do the best I can, but it looks like she’s lost quite a bit of blood,” he said as he cut my shirt up the side.
I tried to focus on what was happening, but I couldn’t. Between the room spinning and the blurry faces, I just needed to close my eyes. I felt a prick on my skin and that was the last thing I remembered.
****
I slowly opened my eyes and took note of the oversized bed in which I was lying
in. The sheets were soft and the pillows were fluffy. As I stared straight ahead, I noticed the beautiful green fabric that was draped amongst the four intricately carved cherry wood posts.
“You’re awake,” the low voice said as he walked through the door.
“Where am I?” I asked in a soft whisper.
He walked further into the room and sat down on the edge of the bed. “You’re in my house.”
“What happened to me?” I asked, since my mind was nothing but a ball of blur.
“Why don’t you start by telling me your name?” he said as he sat on the edge of the bed and leaned over me.
I stared into his blue eyes as I answered him. “Rory. My name is Rory.”
“Rory?” he asked with an odd look on his face.
“It’s short for Aurora,” I replied.
“It’s nice to meet you, Rory. I’m Ian Braxton,” he said as he got up from the bed and poured me a glass of water. “Here, take a sip.”
I lifted my head as he held the glass up to my lips. The pain in my side was throbbing, reminding me of that horrific night.
“Good girl. Now, why don’t you tell me who hurt you,” he said.
I looked away because I wasn’t about to tell him my troubles. He was a stranger, even though he did help me.
“How long have I been sleeping?” I asked.
“About two days. I’ll ask you one last time. Who did this to you and why?”
“I don’t know,” I lied.
“You’re lying,” he said. “I don’t like people who lie.”
“And I don’t like people who are nosy and think they can make everything their business.”
He raised one eyebrow. “Hmm,” he said as he stared at me. “Very well, Aurora. You’ll tell me in due time,” he said as he got up from the bed and walked over to the door. He put his hand on the handle and, before turning it, he turned around and looked at me. “I saved your life and now you owe me. That’s how this works. I did something for you, and you’ll do something for me.”
He walked out of the room and shut the door behind him. I tried to sit up, but the pain was too intense. When I closed my eyes, all I could see was him, the look in his eye, and the
pain of the knife that broke my flesh. I turned my head and looked out the large window. The French doors that led out to the balcony were beautiful. The only thing I could see from my lying position was the blue sky. I had no idea where I was other than the fact that the house was owned by a man named Ian Braxton. A sexy man. A man who stood about six feet tall with light brown hair and blue eyes that reminded me of the sky outside my window. The slight scruff that he sported on his face made him even sexier. His voice was one I’d never be able to get out of my head. Low, deep, authoritative, and permanently etched into my brain. The only voice I heard when I was scared, hurt, and alone. My eyes felt heavy and, just as I closed them, I heard the light squeak of the door opening. I opened my eyes and saw Ian standing over me.
“You need to take your antibiotics,” he said.
“Antibiotics? For what?”
“So you don’t get an infection from your stab wound. Do you remember what kind of knife it was?”
I closed my eyes, and instead of seeing darkness, I saw the stiletto blade he held in his hand after he stabbed me. My eyes flew open as a twinge of pain throbbed where my wound was.
“Are you all right, Aurora?”
“I’m fine,” I said as I looked away.
“Is there something you want to tell me?”
“No. What would I possibly tell you?”
Ian sat down on the edge of the bed and stared at me. “You never told me your last name.” He smiled as he held out his hand with the large red pill in it.
I lifted my hand and, when I went to take it from him, he closed his hand on mine. “You have no reason to be afraid of me, Aurora. I can keep you safe, but you need to trust me.”
I nodded my head and he smiled softly as he opened his hand and I took the pill from it. He handed me a glass of water as I put the pill in my mouth and swallowed it.
“Sinclair. My last name is Sinclair,” I said. “And my name is Rory. I hate Aurora, so please call me Rory.”
The corners of his mouth slightly curved up when I said that. “You must be starving. I’ll have my chef prepare something for you. What kinds of food do you like?”
“I’m not hungry,” I said in a low tone as I looked out the window.
“It doesn’t matter if you’re hungry or not. You have to eat.”
He was starting to piss me off, and I just wanted to be left alone. “Can you please just leave me alone?” I said with an irritation in my voice.
“Fine. I’ll leave you alone, at least for now. But, make no mistake, Aurora, this is far from finished.”
He got up from the bed and walked out the door.
What the hell was this guy’s problem?
He seemed like some kind of control freak. He would be easy to resist if he wasn’t so damn sexy.
Ugh…Rory, get the thought out of your head,
I said to myself. A guy like that would never be interested in someone like me. About an hour later, a man wearing a white shirt, black pants, and a chef’s hat on his head brought me a tray with a bowl of soup and a plate of bread on it.
“For you, Miss Rory. I’ve prepared homemade chicken noodle soup and homemade bread for you. Everything you need is here on the tray,” he said as he set it across my lap.
The aroma of chicken soup filled the air. “Thank you. It smells delicious.”
“You’re welcome. If there’s anything else I can get you, please just push this button and it will ring down to the kitchen.” He smiled.
“Thank you. What’s your name?”
“My name is Charles, ma’am,” he said as he walked out the door.
As the steam was rising up from the soup, I took my spoon and stirred it around the bowl. I despised chicken soup and for good reason. But, I was hungry, and because I didn’t specify what I liked to eat, Charles probably figured that chicken soup was the safest bet. I brought the spoon up to my mouth and lightly blew on it to cool the soup off. It wasn’t bad. I’m sure it was phenomenal, but since my hatred for chicken soup was so strong, I couldn’t get past that it was just okay. Being in this place scared me. He scared me. He said I could trust him, but I didn’t trust anyone.
