

The Finish Line

by Josephine Kent

Romance/Short Story

Smashwords Edition

Copyright ©2013 by Josephine Kent

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

Thank you for downloading this free ebook. You are welcome to share it with your friends. This book may be reproduced, copied and distributed for non-commercial purposes, provided the book remains in its complete original form. If you enjoyed this book, please return to Smashwords.com to discover other works by this author. Thank you for your support.

This book is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

Dedication

I would like to dedicate this book to my late grandfather, Joseph. He passed away in May, 2013 after nearly a century of 'living well'. Besides having been a beloved musician, writer, friend, and yes, a man who genuinely appreciated the ladies, my grandfather dearly loved his family. He lived to see four generations of his greatest legacy to the world. Unfortunately, while I inherited his talent for prose, the gene for music dodged me completely. Dada, if I could, I would "listen to you sing and then laugh".

Prologue

Some part of her consciousness was telling her that she should be angry. That she should be hurt. Some part of her screamed that she should be grateful that Hilliard had left her bed before she had awoken to the inevitable awkwardness. Yet, as she gripped the note that bore his sprawling script, she was numb.

"Alexanna, thank you," it read. "Just wanted to say goodbye. Hill."

"Thank you," she mouthed the words as she climbed from her bed. She would not think about how she had reached out for her one time lover this morning, only to find the curt note which was written on a sheet of her own stationery. She would not think about the fact that he'd spelt her name wrong. It was Alezanna, not Alexanna. The one time she'd done something so foolish the guy didn't even know her name. She couldn't really say much because she didn't know his full name either. All she knew was that he was Hilliard. Maybe if she'd written a note she would have misspelled his name as well. She should forgive him for a slight she had no right to feel. But today wasn't the day for that.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow she would think about this; but today she would think only about how she was going to crawl out of her bed.

Chapter 1

A month to the day later, Alezanna was again sitting in the conference room of Griffin Hill International Bank when a sudden bout of nausea propelled her out of her chair. Desperately, she searched but there was no bin or bathroom in sight. Mortified at the thought that she would spew the contents of her stomach on the plush blue carpet of the bank, Anna ran into the hallway, jerked open the nearest door on her right and rushed to the bin beside the desk. Dimly, she was gratefully aware that the floor in this room was wood instead of carpeting.

There was something about the sight and smell of vomit that made Anna continue to heave and retch even after she had nothing left to spew. When someone thoughtfully gave her a bottle of water and instructed her to rinse her mouth, Anna thought the powerful hands were divine. And when the stranger knelt behind her and held her stomach tight until it stopped rebelling and her gagging was controlled, she decided even if he looked like a beast she would love him forever. When he gallantly lifted her to the plush executive chair and put a damp kerchief on her brow, before removing the bin and himself from the room, Anna began to bawl. Her tears began as a result of embarrassment over her weakness, but rapidly morphed into a much more treacherous emotion.

It was as if a dam had broken and all the grief that she had been unable to express over the past six months had somehow found an outlet. She folded her hands on the desk and sobbed bitterly into them, blinded by her heartache. The gentle hand that brushed her hair and back seemed vaguely familiar, and that made her cry even more. For the first time that she could ever remember, Anna cried. She cried for the curt note Hilliard had left her. She cried for her mother who had died of a heart attack while driving eleven years before. And for the father who, after fifteen years as a boxer, perished from an aneurism in his brain not long after her mother's death. But, she cried mostly for the beloved grandfather who had raised her, and succumbed to colon cancer only six months ago.

Though Lorin Dux had left all his earthly possessions to his granddaughter, his sole valuable possession amounted to a crumbling tower in the middle of a sea of exclusive hotels. And now, Anna was sick and puking all over the bank that she was trying to borrow from in order to retain and upgrade said tower. This bug that had been bothering her for weeks now wasn't going anywhere. She'd have to go see the doctor. And pay him. Finding the funds for that would require her to not only milk a stone, but make cheese from dust, because everything she had was tied up in that hotel.

"Alexanna, come now. Whatever it is cannot be so bad as that." Tenderly, Hilliard brushed her hair from her brow. He had been staring out the window thinking about Alexanna Dux when the door to his office was abruptly shoved open. At first he had believed the intruder to be his assistant returning rather quickly from his smoke break. That was until he'd heard the retching and had turned to inquire about Kevin's wellbeing. Imagine his surprise to see the woman who occupied his thoughts claiming cruel ownership of his trash can.

Now, he felt her shoulders tense as she recognized his voice. She looked up. Her expression of acute disbelief was swiftly replaced with horror.

"Come, sweetheart," he said gathering her close and pressing her face to his chest. Somehow, she had found him, but he did not understand why she was reacting this way. At first she fought his hold, but by measured degrees the fight seemed to go out of her. She melted into his chest and cried like someone who had lost everything she held in the world. Instead of releasing her, he held her closer.

It was another five minutes before Anna was able to compose herself. Hill was there with his soaked gray shirtfront and now wrinkled jacket, pouring a cup of coffee for her. "I'm sorry, Hilliard. I don't know what came over me."

He looked at her over his shoulder. "Looks like you needed to tear up for a bit," he said easily, trying to pass off her crying as nothing. Depositing the Blue Mountain brew before her, he settled into his chair across the desk. "Want to talk about it?"

Anna's eyes flared wide. "No." Nervously, she shredded the napkin he had given her. Somewhere along the way she had lost the kerchief. The scent of the coffee was making her nauseous again.

Taking note of her agitation, Hill sought to distract her. "No? Did you just happen to wake up this morning and decide it was a good day to make a mess of my office?" He knew he sounded snide, but he had a big problem with Anna. It was as if she was covered in a diamond shell that was extremely appealing on the surface, but he knew that the true gem deep within was equally untouchable because of that beautiful shell. "If you wanted my attention, all you had to do was ask."

When he had first seen her, her aloofness was something to be conquered. It had taken him long hours of observation to learn the best way to approach her and not be treated with cool indifference. She must have been feeling weak that night, because he'd taken one chance, and won the woman he'd wanted more than any other woman in his life. He'd convinced himself that if he put everything he had into making love to her, she'd loosen up and he would get to see who she really was. The only thing he'd discovered was that, even when he was inside her, this woman had not been completely with him. It was the reason he'd given up and left the next morning.

He'd even started begging. Him! He'd begged for her to touch him in return before she'd gingerly reached up and passed her hand over his shoulder, her face turned away. If he had not stood in her bathroom after disposing the condom, and seen where her wetness remained glazed on his upper thighs, he might have convinced himself that he'd only been jerking off to a cold fantasy. Still, he'd gone back to bed and tried again. And again. Finally, her aloofness had become unbearable to him. Wanting to just be with her, he had drawn her close while she slept. Even unconscious, she'd resisted - isolating herself on the edge of the bed.

She was gorgeous, but she was ruby trapped in ice. So why couldn't he get past that night? Or the morning after when he'd sat on the edge of her bed and watched her sleeping in the pink and gray light of dawn. Hill had sought in vain for the words to explain what she did to him internally. Whatever it was, it just was. There were no words to define a feeling that left him so powerless. And so, he'd left a brief note and hoped their one-night stand would become a forgotten regret.

It hadn't.

"Your office?" Anna queried. "This is where you work?"

Hill's lips quirked. "And live. My home is at the top of the building. But, I also spend a lot of time in New York and London." It also helped that the bank was named for his grandfather and him, Hilliard Griffin III. "It is good to see you again, Alexanna."

She groaned and covered her face. "I have to go." As she rose from her seat, a knock sounded on his office door.

"Come in."

"Excuse me, Sir." Kevin Luckly poked his head into the office. "Mr. Campbell's appointment did not show up. He asks if you would prefer to meet with him now rather than this afternoon."

Pulling herself together, Anna lurched to her feet. "I'm sorry. I was supposed to meet with Mr. Campbell, but -"

The scent of her sickness still permeated the air. With a wave of his hand, Hill stayed Kevin's progress into the office. "Kevin, Alexanna and I are old friends. She ducked in to say a quick hello."

"Will Mr. Campbell still see me?"

"I believe so, Ma'am. If you would give me a few minutes, I'll make sure."

When Kevin left the room, the door quietly clicking closed behind him, Hill turned his full attention to her. "May I ask why you were meeting with Jon?"

Anna met the beautiful gray gaze. For years she had read about 'dove gray eyes.' She had always thought people referred to the color and not the soulful gentleness in them. When she'd met Hilliard a month before at the blues club where she moonlighted as a singer, Anna had been caught by the kindness that seemed to come from his soul. Hill's deeply set eyes were soft-gray and framed with long, spiky lashes. Though his entire package was desirable, from his tightly waved black hair to the soles of his six foot five frame, and the leanly muscled body of an athlete, Hill's greatest appeal was his eyes. They made her want to trust him, to confide in him, and to lean on his strength.

"No." A vise clamped over her heart as she remembered the note he'd written her after their one night together. That had stung. And he hadn't even spelled her name right. Obviously he had not wanted her to contact him, nor did he want to contact her because he had neither left nor asked for a phone number. Why did he now act as if they were "old friends?"

"Look. I'm sorry for the mess." She waved her hand to where the trashcan had been.

"No. It's okay." He studied her broodingly. "Why were you so sick? Rough night?" Hill wondered if she'd taken someone home with her as she'd done with him, but quickly dismissed the thought. She was too cool for that.

Anna saw where he was going with his questions and shrugged. "Hilliard, thank you for everything. I'll say goodbye now."

How she relished saying the words back to him. As she departed without looking back, Anna did not see him wince at her recitation of his parting words. Outside his office, she stopped at the desk next to the door and was told Mr. Campbell was still willing to meet with her. She ducked quickly into the employee restroom before going to the meeting. She wouldn't go begging for money - if that was what it came to - with vomit on her breath.

Anna arrived at home strangely exhausted. Mr. Campbell had not given her any idea of what he had been thinking. Instead, he had listened to her proposal to restore The Flamboyant Grand Hotel and to pay off the debts left by her grandfather with the loan he would grant her. Her grandfather's illness had eaten away at their finances terribly, so that what remained of Anna's inheritance from her parents was only enough for her to stay four months ahead on the bills, and pay the property taxes for the year. Still, four months isn't much when time is measured in cash.

With a sigh, she stripped off her shoes, skirt, shirt, and bra on her way to bed. Everything stayed where it fell, in a trail to her bedroom. Collapsing onto her bed, she picked up where she had left off in Hill's office. It seemed that when you hit rock bottom, all you could do about it was have a good cry.

Chapter 2

The pounding was insistent. The phone was ringing. Groggily she reached out to answer. "Hello."

"Alexanna?"

"Yes?"

"It's me. Hill, I mean." His voice sounded strange.

The pounding continued. Anna smiled into her pillow at the caress of his voice in her ear. "Hi, Hill. What's up?"

"I am at your door right now. Can you open it?"

In her grogginess, she had allowed herself the brief fantasy that they were together as a couple and this was a loving call. Reality intruded on that fantasy when she realized Hill would never come over, nor would he be whispering into her ear when she woke. That snapped her out of the dream haze, real quick. She 'squinted' her eyes, wincing when the glue of stale tears pulled at them. The incessant pounding on her front door turned into a playful rat-at-tat. "You're outside?"

His chuckle was a sweet sound. "Yes. That's me knocking."

"Oh." He remembered my address? Then she asked the only the only reasonable question. "Why?"

Hill paused. "Do I need a reason?" When she didn't immediately answer he said, "We need to talk."

Anna went to the bathroom to wash her face. "We've already said all that we needed to say to each other."

We haven't said anything at all, he thought. That's the problem. "I also wanted to see you. See how you're doing."

"Your concern is touching." Her tone didn't sound touched. Anna peered at her reflection in the mirror. It seemed as if no matter how many times she washed her face, her eyes wouldn't open fully. "Look, Hilliard. I have to go." She was only wearing briefs, her hair was a tangled mess, her eyes were swollen and her face puffy. "I can't see you right now, and I assure you that I did not intentionally run into your office. I'm not hunting you down. So it's safe to say we can forget we knew each other."

Hill rested his arm on the doorframe and leaned his forehead against it. He had known she did not want to see him, but he had expected to at least get in the door. That she would at least listen. He wasn't experienced with women who made him work for it. Sure, she'd been an easy lay, but he suspected something must have been going on with her that night, because this woman was hard in everything else. "Would you go to a late dinner with me, then? After work?"

"I'm not hungry." Anna belted her robe around her waist then went to the living room to pick up after herself.

"Are you aware that I can see you moving around in there?"

She glanced up at the frosted glass front door. "I know, and I don't care. Goodbye, Hill."

"Pete's sake Alex, stop saying 'Goodbye.'" he snapped angrily.

Choosing not to correct his chosen nickname, Anna twisted her lips to the side. "Why Hilliard, if you don't like me saying that word, then you should probably leave before I can say it again." Anna stood directly on the other side of the glass door to confront his silhouette.

"No."

She shrugged. "Suit yourself. Goodbye, Hill." Anna hung up the phone and deposited it on the table beside the front door. Steeling herself against another urge to cry, she went into her bedroom to prepare for work. She swore she wasn't normally a crybaby, but with all the stress she was under, the outlet was quickly becoming her favorite form of free therapy.

Anna arrived at The Jelly Roll just in time to change into her costume and hand Eddie her music. The bandleader was surprised that she had chosen new songs. Dressed in a long, beaded black gown, with her hair piled into a high bun, and her ears dripping with jet stones, she was a vision. As she stepped onto the platform, she knew that her outfit was over the top, but years in the spotlight had taught her that if you gave people the glamour they desired, they didn't look beyond the immediate impression. As long as her face was stunningly beautiful with the aid of skillfully applied makeup, no one would suspect that she had spent most of the day retching, feeling miserable, and deeply unhappy.

When the applause died down, Anna spoke, "Not many of you know that my grandfather passed away six months ago." Her voice was husky and smooth. "My parents and I lived with him when I was little, and after they died, we took care of each other. My grandfather was more than a grandparent to me. He was my best friend, my brother, my father and mother. He was my treasure. The best thing I had in this world." Her voice softened tenderly as she thought of him.

Anna paused, remembering burnt macaroni, and fly-fishing, a paddled bottom, and bear hugs. Tears slipped from her eyes, and she quickly dashed them away. "Until tonight, I was unable to sing for him in memoriam, but I'm ready now." She gave the audience a tight, hopeful smile. "Father - that's what I called him. Father would always sit in that seat there." Anna turned. For the first time in a month, she faced the seat that her grandfather used to listen from, the self same seat that Hill had occupied on that fateful night. She gasped when she saw who occupied the small two person table. Hill was there, gray-eyed and beautiful in a dark sweater and t-shirt. She regrouped quickly, the only evidence of her discomfiture being that initial gasp. "Tonight, I just want to sing for him. If you would indulge me, please." Her guileless smile encompassed the entire audience. "I would appreciate it if you permitted me sing a final goodbye to my truest love."

Someone in the audience shouted, "Sing your blues, girl!"

The strings intro to If You Go Away/Ne Me Quitte Pas fell like crystal notes on the floor. At the familiar sounds something in Anna broke away. Her voice, husky yet clear, enchanted her listeners. She sang as if she had only four minutes in Heaven to tell her grandfather of her love for him, and the loneliness since he'd left. Tears streamed down her face, but Anna did not care. Never mind that her mascara was waterproof. The mask she had painted on for the audience stood no chance against the emotion behind her song. Her grandfather had taught her that true love was not vain enough to care about appearance. True beauty was steadfast and sincere.

Hill listened in amazement. Four months before, when a friend had brought him to The Jelly Roll for the first time and he had heard Alexanna sing, he had been enraptured. Her voice was deep, almost mannish; smooth and heavy like thick folds of silk being pulled through the ocean. That voice had instantly become his addiction. Even after their one night together, it compelled him to return to the club for the four nights per week that she performed. The club always brought new acts, but this virtuosic singer - marketed simply as Anna \- was the main act; and he suspected that people returned, not for those new musicians, but for her. He certainly did. It still baffled him that he had chosen to leave what had become his customary post in the darkest corner of the blues club, to sit front and center in the same chair in which he had been sitting on that night they got together.

Finally, he knew why he had gotten her attention that night a month ago, and why she'd acted out of character in taking him home. Something in him regretted that she would forever associate him and that seat with sadness of her grandfather's passing.

He wondered if that reminder was why she had been so cool during their lovemaking. Because, even as he tried to convince himself that their one night was nothing but an unremarkable tumble, he knew that it had been far more for him. She might have been almost aloof, but for the first time in his life, Hill had made love to a woman. Another part of him believed it was fate that pushed them together. He'd been a fan for months now, but destiny had pushed him to that table on a night when she'd needed someone. She was like Sleeping Beauty, trapped in a crystal coffin, and despite his instincts to run away from what was obviously an enchantment, he wanted to remain. To revive her.

She looked at him, but also through him as she blindly sang. It was as if he was not occupying the chair and he knew then that she was singing only to her late grandfather. It didn't matter that it was Hill sitting in that chair. If she'd sang so soulfully for anyone but her grandfather, he might be jealous. As it was, he was already jealous that someone other than himself, even a memory, could move her so completely. Her grandfather might be her treasure, but the moment Hill had laid eyes on her, she had become his private obsession.

When Anna arrived at the lyrics, "But if you go, go, I won't cry, though the good is gone from the word 'goodbye'," she blinked away the haze of sorrow and really looked at him. Her voice changed. Hardened, in a way. On the final notes, she lifted her head higher as if to say, "Damn you and the world! I don't need you." She dared her love to leave, singing "Ne me quitte pas...Ne me quitte pas... Ne me quitte pas," even as her voice begged for her beloved to stay. Tragic. Emotional. Alive. For this one song, she was the living loving the eternally lost.

Slowly, as the song came to an end, as if her soul was reluctant to retreat behind the glamour of ice, he saw that defiance retreat and wished for even her resentment of him to return.

For months he had been just another member of the audience. Then the night he had chosen to sit there, Anna's song had been 'You Can't Tell The Difference After Dark.' The song was quirky, and she'd left the stage to mingle with the audience. Somehow she had ended up sitting on his lap and crooning to him, hiding her brittleness behind raw talent. That night, her long, dark locks were netted and pulled into huge, sexy victory rolls, like some femme fatale from another time.

Tonight her hair was dyed crimson and pulled into a bun high in the back of her head. She'd studded the bun with tiny, glittering jet. This made her look like she had a halo, which was a curious mix with the devilish black dress that she wore. He had yet to see her look the same way twice. She was like hothouse blooms, always evolving, ever stunning. By her very nature fragile.

Sometimes, she looked as thin as a reed in long, cuffed trousers and a crisp blouse. Other times, like tonight, she was the quintessential vixen with the type of curvaceous body he'd thought had disappeared halfway through the last century. Though her skin was dark as molasses it had a golden glow, as if the sun itself could not help but wake up and kiss her under the stage lights. She overwhelmed him. Her breasts were too large, her hips and buttocks too thick, and her legs miles too long. The secret of her body was her toned abdomen, smooth and tight despite the lushness of her figure. She was super-model sized, larger than life, and the ideal he had only discovered when he'd first heard her sing.

Hill looked at the leg revealed through the slit of her dress and groaned to himself. He remembered the fruity taste of her inner thighs and damned himself a thousand times a fool for running away on the morning after. He should have remained in her bed and worked harder to make her feel. When a woman didn't know how to make love, only a coward or a fool didn't take the time to teach her.

Hill sat, willing to wait the entire evening to speak with her. Absorbing the beauty that could not be typecast. She had the strangest, most arresting eyes. They were dark, large and slanted like a cat's. He fancied her lashes were black feathers framing them. Her nose was straight and long, widening at the nostrils. But it was her lips. Heaven help him, her mouth was wide and full, her lips thick and pouting. She always looks as if she's just been thoroughly kissed, he thought to himself, and wants another. Despite her appearance, and the discomfort tenting his slacks, Hill saw that she was no longer really there at the club.

With a new song, her soul had fought back against the walls of her forced self-restraint and prevailed. Tonight, Anna had become something more than just outstanding talent. She had become a diva. Her voice had become something more, and had he truly run away from their night together, he would have missed this opportunity to witness her evolution. Now he understood that the voice that he appreciated so much, had only been that - an impressive abstract, that was still more than enough for her to achieve superstardom. Tonight that voice had become the sole outlet for the feelings her reserved nature kept bottled inside. Tonight, she had become a legendary performer.

Reluctantly, he dragged his gaze away from Anna to look at the people seated around him. Cocktail napkins had become kerchiefs, couples pulled their chairs together to form loveseats, the bartenders stopped tending, and the members of the house band just closed their eyes and played their hearts to Anna's tune - the music gradually softening to a faintly echoing backdrop to her vocals.

Thinking quickly, he pulled out his cell and recorded the rest of her performance. He scanned the audience. He scanned the band. He caught the birth of an angel.

It was two hours later before Anna finished singing. Afterwards, she changed into her waitress uniform and went out to clear tables. This was the way she picked up extra cash as patrons tipped her for their drinks, but mostly for her show. Since she'd started working here as a waitress, and had been given a chance opportunity to sing, Anna also chose not to burn her bridges behind her. God forbid anything should go wrong with her voice, management wouldn't have a reason to fire her because of her dual value to them.

Tony Rascall was on stage wailing like a hound at a full moon, but he played like Jimmy Hendrix's dreams. Anna blew him a kiss in passing and the Rascall winked at her. At the end of her performance, he'd whispered, "Don't think I want to go out there tonight, kid. Not after that show you just put on. Righteous!"

Hill witnessed their brief interaction with displeasure. He glared at the other man from his seat in the dark corner - where he'd retreated once she'd gone off the stage. Alexanna was not working this section of the club, but he could see her clearly from his vantage point. He almost felt like a stalker.

It was another three beers and a shot of whiskey, approximately four hours, before she finished working. He was leaning against her car door when she came out laughing. She and the Rascall had their arms wrapped companionably around each other. They stopped when they saw him, and Hill heard the other man ask if she would be alright.

"I believe so. I know him." Once before, she had allowed herself to see Hilliard as something he really wasn't. "I'll see you later." Tony kissed her cheek and hugged her before he settled into his car. She knew he wouldn't leave the lot until she was safely in her own vehicle and driving away.

"Hello, Alex." Hill pretended a nonchalance he did not feel.

Anna stood ten feet away from him. "Anna," she said, distracted by the pale light of his gaze.

"What?" he responded, confused.

"If you must shorten my name, then you should know that I prefer Anna. Alex was my father." It was terrible that she had slept with this man, given him a piece of herself that no one else had, and he did not know her name. They had never exchanged more than first names, and had botched even that. "My name is Alezanna Dux. Alezanna with a 'z' instead of an 'x'. Lastname D-U-X." She fitted the car key between her fingers as a weapon, just to be cautious, then folded her arms across her chest.

"I know your surname." Hill studied her wary pose. Was she afraid of him? "I asked Jon Campbell. Are you any relation to Alex Dux, The General?"

She nodded. "He was my father."

Hill nodded. Her father had been a great boxer who had died much too young. "My name is Hilliard Collis Griffin, III."

Stunned, Anna gaped at him. "Griffin as in Griffin Hill Bank?"

"I was named for it, and it was named for my grandfather, the original Hill Griffin." His cheek twitched from embarrassment. He knew what it was like to have her legs propped on his shoulders, but until he'd called Jon and asked about the woman he'd met with, he had not known Alex's - no Anna's \- full name. It was then that he realized she probably didn't know his name either. Or was she just pretending ignorance and wanted to lure him in order to get him to grant her that loan. After all, of the ten offices along that corridor, why had she barreled into his? Hill studied her expression. No. Until this moment she had not known who he was. Nor, depressing as it was to admit, had she cared.

"I think I'm going to be sick," she groaned as an awful premonition swept over her. Anna pressed a hand to her throat and made a beeline for her passenger side door. "Would you please go away, Hilliard?"

"Would you have dinner with me tomorrow night?" he asked, ignoring her desperation. Even as a part of him wanted to turn around and never look back, he was drowning for her. Hill could have any woman he wanted, but beyond all reason he had been obsessed with this woman from the moment he'd first heard her voice. Then, fatalistically, he'd seen her. He'd tried to wipe Anna from his mind, but the more he pushed her away, the worse things got. She was like a mistletoe, planted firmly in his side.

Anna climbed into the car via the passenger side and quickly locked the door behind her before scooting over into the driver's seat. "A month ago you left me a note. At the time you didn't bother telling me your name or offer to share a meal. Look," she leveled her gaze on him through the protective barrier of her car window, "whatever you're offering, I don't want it. You have nothing that I need," she glared at him scornfully, "nor anything I want. Do what I did and forget anything ever happened between us. Now, I'm going to say 'Goodbye' again, and please, let this be the last time."

He was beginning to really hate that word. It was as if she waited to see him just so she could practice pronouncing it in that particularly irritating tone. "If I have nothing that you want, then why were you at the GHIB?" Wanting to lash out, he bent and faced her through the barrier of the window. "Who's to say you did not find out who I am, and plotted that whole scenario in order to try and get me to give you that loan?"

When the engine of her twenty year old Corolla gunned to life, he knew he had gone too far. Anna did not look left or right as she drove out of the parking lot. Tony Rascall's car started up and pulled out behind her. He suspected, as he watched the tail lights of her car disappear around a corner, that she did not look back at him either.

Anna received a call from Jon Campbell's secretary the following day to arrange a meeting with the loans manager. The next morning, she was again directed to the conference room at the other end of the hall from Hill's office. She could see Kevin seated at his at his desk, and wondered how she could have missed seeing him that terrible morning. This was Hilliard's workplace. If she wasn't so desperately in need of the loan she would have cancelled her application rather than chance meeting him again.

The nausea was even more frequent now. Sometimes it seemed that all she had to do was open her eyes in the morning to feel queasy. Wisely, she'd made an appointment to see her doctor that afternoon. Perhaps it was food poisoning, or she'd caught the flu. Everyone knew illnesses got worse overnight, and this illness usually faded by early afternoon. The same week of what she now referred to as the 'unfortunate incident' with Hill, she'd woken at three in the morning in a rush to kiss the porcelain. Since then, her body felt as if she'd been working overtime on a chain gang. At first she'd thought the bug would pass on, but now that she was a full thirteen pounds lighter, Alezanna admitted to herself that it was time to see the doctor.

Someone had requested that a trash can be left near the door of the conference room. Probably Hill.

Hill?

Anna groaned and collapsed into her chair. Frantically she pulled out her calendar and checked the dates. "Six weeks!" It was a full six weeks since her last period. Tony had given her three condoms when she'd first gotten the job. Though she had never had occasion to use them before, Anna had kept them around and eventually used them with Hill. The last one had broken, but they hadn't realized until it was too late. She didn't need to go to the doctor to find out what was wrong with her. She was pretty sure he would tell her she was about a month pregnant. "Great! Just add some lighting to the pouring rain."

For the second time in three days, Anna stumbled out of the conference room and barged into Hill's office. This time a protesting Kevin was at his station. He scrambled to his feet and followed her inside, but at a curt nod from his employer he zipped his lips and backed out, closing the door behind him.

"You selfish bastard," Anna rushed over and slapped him hard across the cheek.

Hill's cheek stung from the blow, but he ducked just in time to avoid another one. Something had drawn her out of that cool shell. "What has gotten into you, woman?" He grabbed her hands and pulled her forcefully to his chest.

"You told him to deny my loan didn't you? I rejected you and you told Mr. Campbell not to give me that loan." Accusation blazed from her eyes. "Didn't you? What did I ever do to you that you would actively seek to make my life miserable, Hilliard?"

"Anna," he pressed her face to his chest and kissed her brow despite her struggles to be released. "What are you talking about, Anna? The only things I asked Jon for were your last name and your phone number." Even that admission was embarrassing. He'd slept with her and walked away without her phone number. Even the most casual strangers exchanged more than they had that night. Right now however, it seemed prudent not to mention he'd learnt her full name by reading her file and proposal. Because of that, he could list the reasons why her loan was denied, but he'd had nothing to do Jon's decision. "Nothing more. I did not interfere with your loan application." He held her tightly to his chest until she stopped struggling.

Anna stepped back, more subdued now, and as if in a trance walked out of his office. Jon Campbell had denied her application. She'd failed her grandfather. "I can't do this."

Seconds later, Kevin rushed to his door. "Sir, the young lady has collapsed in the hallway."

Hill never knew such panic as he felt when he heard those words. Racing out of his office, he felt his world tilt on its axis. There was Anna's prone frame lying on the blue carpet.

"Anna. Wake up, sweetheart."

"Hmm..." As if she were caught in a thick fog, Anna heard her name being called. She heard the worry in the caller's tone, but could not answer.

"Anna, darling. Open your eyes and look at me." Hill alternated between pressing the damp cloth and warm kisses over her face. "Come on, baby. Just open your eyes. I have you," he crooned softly.

"Hill?"

"It's me, sweetheart. I've got you."

Anna's eyes fluttered open, and widened as she realized where they were and what must have happened. Shame overwhelmed her and she burst into tears at finding herself so vulnerable once again. Three times now she'd cried in his presence. That thought sobered her almost as quickly as she'd begun crying. She never cried.

"Shh, darling. Everything's going to be alright." Hill murmured into her ear as he carried her into his office.

"I can walk."

"I know that, but you obviously can't walk right now."

His tone was comforting, but his mollycoddling was grating on her nerves. "Put me down, Hilliard."

Instead of doing as she asked, he strode over to the gray linen sofa near the window, and sat with her on his lap. "Have you seen the doctor, Anna? First you are sick all over my office, and now you're fainting in the halls. How long has this been going on? Are you eating properly? You look like you've lost weight. You look like hell, in fact."

Anna slid off his lap into the seat next to him. "I'm fine. Just a little bug, but thanks for telling me of the 'fact' that I look like hell." For every question he delivered, she had a snappy response.

"Press 'Pause' on the attitude for a few minutes," he brushed aside her last complaint and looked at her soberly. "I know that you are taking your grandfather's death hard, but you can come to me if you ever need someone."

Hmm! That'll be the day. "Thanks for the offer." She stood on wobbly legs. "I've got to go."

Hill rose also and stuffed his hands into his pockets. "I think you need to see a doctor."

"I've got an appointment to see one today."

"Good." He rocked back on his heels. "Call me, and let me know how you're doing."

Anna lowered her brows and looked up at him as if questioning his sanity. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that this was none of his business, but if the doctor confirmed her suspicions, it would most likely be his concern as well. She wasn't foolish enough to think she could raise a child on her own when she could barely afford to keep a roof over her own head. If all was right in her world, she might have tried something like that. But all wasn't right. And she'd need Hilliard if worse came to worst.

"I don't have your number" she said instead.

Hill colored. Six foot five inches of shrewd business sense and steel athleticism, and he was blushing. How strange to realize that he had never given her his number. His decision had been deliberate when he'd first walked away from her. At the time, he'd thought to put her out of his system. But, he'd hoped that when he had called her earlier this week, Anna would have saved his number. "I called you two days ago."

"I deleted it."

Nodding, he studied her stubborn profile. Okay, Hardball. "Let me write it down for you." Reaching to his mahogany desk he picked up his business card and began writing his cell-phone number on the back.

Anna waited until he returned with the card. She took it. "You know, if you'd given me your number a month ago, I would have accepted it and ended up calling you, even knowing you wouldn't call me." She tapped the card with the tip of a finger and studied the bold blue numbers. "Now, I find that I don't want your number. In fact, I wholeheartedly regret getting involved with you, even if it was just for a few hours."

"Damn it, Anna! Are you going to hold that against me forever?" Hill found himself wondering if she was worth the constant reminders of his mistakes where their relationship was concerned. Relationship? Is that what this is? "I can't express just how sorry I am about that, but I had hoped we would be able to move beyond it. Or do you have the market cornered on bitterness?" Why am I even apologizing for her being cold?

"Bitterness?" Anna's eyes flared, but her tone was mild as she said, "I am not bitter, Hill." She threw his card on the top of the dark surface of the desk. "What I am is tired. Right now, I have a lot of things on my mind and the last thing I need is another distraction. Maybe if you're still available in a few years, when I'm not so 'bitter', I might stop to linger; but for today, I don't even have the time for this conversation. If I need you I'll know where to find you, but I'm hoping I never will." Something in his expression caused her heart to soften. Reaching up, she caressed the cheek that bore a reddened handprint. She should never have struck him. "It seems as if every time I say 'goodbye' to you, we see each other again. How about I say, 'I'll see you around'? Maybe we'll never cross paths again if I say that instead."

"Keep on saying goodbye then." Hill picked up the card again and dropped it into her purse. "Call and let me know that you're okay. And maybe, when you're ready 'I'll see you around.'" Then he pressed a lingering kiss to the corner of her mouth and watched as Anna walked out of his life.

He tried to convince himself that he respected the fact that she had a lot going on and was at least being honest with him about it. A new relationship between them could only be another complication. She didn't want complications, and he didn't want drama. It was good for them to part ways.

After her appointment, Anna debated whether to call Hilliard. She could tell him everything the doctor had said. Then, perhaps she could sit back and watch him rush in like an avenging angel. He could afford to. His name was on the bank, after all. And, she was carrying his child. The thing was, she wasn't confident of him. Would he ask for an abortion? Or, would he run away like he had the morning after. He might run away. And with the way she'd climbed into bed after talking to him for only an hour or so as something other than a repeat customer, she was sure he'd deny that the child was his.

Despite her earlier conviction about telling him, she decided that she needed neither a savior nor an absconder. Anna didn't make the call.

At around eleven o'clock that night, her phone rang. Before she even glanced at it, she knew who it was. Anna didn't have much family left, and since people tended to drop dead around her, she avoided close friendships like the plague. The only person who would call her might be the Rascall, but never this late.

She reached to pick it up. "This is Alezanna."

"You didn't call." Hill's tone was neutral, as if he was commenting on the weather.

"I know." Half asleep, Anna's voice sounded gravelly.

"Did I wake you up?" he asked.

"I turned in early. Yes." She flopped onto her back and grabbed the bottled water on her nightstand. She never took the chance of straining her voice. "How can I help you, Hill?" she asked after a swallow.

"What did the doctor say?"

Wondering if he'd be this concerned if she told him the truth, Anna thought about her answer. The seconds ticked by as she contemplated how to phrase her next words. The doctor had put her on bed rest - a state she literally could not afford. So, she told Hilliard only part of the truth. "He said I'm depressed, stressed, and malnourished. I got some vitamins and an order to sleep and relax as much as possible." She hoped he'd take the hint. How many ways could a woman say 'leave me alone' without being forced to pull out the gloves?

A long pause. "So, do you think you might want to go out with me some time?" He was pushing it, he knew. But, it had taken only a few minutes after she'd left his office for Hill to realize that if he let Alezanna walk away from him he'd never get another shot in with her. She might be wreaking havoc on his emotions, but he was a man that made a living taking risks. He knew a sure thing when he saw it. She was prickly as a cactus, but she was a rare opportunity. In his estimation, it was better for him to remain a constant in her life despite the rejection. Then, when she was doing better, try to become more to her. Never had he had to humble himself and work this hard for a woman's attention. Admittedly much as he hated the effort she required, the caveman in him was enjoying the hunt.

"Like a date?"

"Yes. Dinner, maybe a concert, anything you like. It'll help with the depression and I've got a kiss that I promise will take your stress away. I'll make sure you eat your veggies too. We can even go to a vegan restaurant so there's no doubt that we followed the doctor's orders." He was really trying to sell that date. Usually, the simple question of, "Would you like to go out with me?" was met with an eager and affirmative response.

For all of two seconds Anna was tempted to go. Then, she remembered what happened the last time she'd hung out with Hill. He hadn't called, and though he knew her address, neither had he visited her until she'd barged into his office to vomit. The dating scene must be thinning if he was trying to go out with someone he'd rejected the morning after bedding. Well, she thought, he must have forgotten we've already skipped the dating and went straight to the bedding.

"Hill," she began. "Dinner and a concert sound great, but I have to turn you down. I'm just not at that point in my life where I want to be dating - even casually."

He sounded disappointed when he asked, "Are you certain? It seems to me that this would be the best time for you to get out of the house and spend time with someone who... cares for you. Share your plate, so to speak. I've got an enormous appetite. I might be able to help you cope."

Anna just barely held back a bitter laugh. "Are you kidding me? The morning after we hooked up you left me with nothing but a 'goodbye' note and not even your full name. Obviously you didn't want to stay in contact because there was no telephone number or address either, although you knew how to find me since we spent the night at my house, and you're always at my club. You stayed away for a month and only returned to my door after I mistakenly walked into your office." She paused in her tirade to take a deep breath. Abstractedly, she compared her beat into his office to her runs for the commode. How symbolic. "I tell you I have a lot on my plate right now, and your response is to ask me out? As if I need romantic problems on top of everything else. Problems you worsened by refusing to grant me that loan. Pardon me, Mr. Griffin, if I do not find your invitation to dinner and 'anything I like' appealing."

"Are we always going to come back to that note?" he groused. "I'm sorry, Anna. Look, I made a mistake and am trying to fix things between us."

"There is no us," she snapped. "There is nothing to fix."

"For the record, I never mix business with personal affairs." Another long pause. "You know what?" he sighed. "Call me when you've taken a sugar pill and sweetened up that personality. You know where to find me and you've got my number." Then he hung up. The simple fact was that she'd humiliated him one too many times. He'd let her go her own way if he had to saw off his own rib to do it. That's exactly what hanging up on her felt like too.

Anna hung up the phone with a huff, punched her pillow and returned to sleep before she could think about how bratty she was being. Was she being bratty? She didn't want him, did she? It isn't bratty to reject someone if you don't want what they're offering. I don't want him. It's okay to say 'no.' Despite her best intentions, she fell asleep thinking things over.

Three months later, Hill was at the bar sitting at his table in the dark corner in the back. He'd been coming every night that Anna performed. He came as soon as she got onstage, and left just as she finished. So much for giving up on her. He never spoke to anyone but the bartender and the waitress, and only to request a few beers and the most heavily shadowed table. Her voice was his addiction. He'd watched her change over the past few months and could not decide if it was good or bad.

She was putting on weight, but her skin glowed beautifully in the dim lighting. Day by day her smile was becoming brighter, though experience had fine-tuned her voice. It was as if she was transforming before his eyes. Whereas someone might have referred to her as a 'girl' just a few months ago, patrons now referred to her as The Lady. The nickname was sticking, as if she was more than just a woman. She was more refined. Unfortunately, Anna had matured the hard way. She'd grown up on this particular stage and he'd also overheard the regulars commenting on how she'd become a "bright star in small sky." She'd never be a pop diva. Anna's style was too Anna-ish for that. She didn't need backup dancers and flashing lights to get and keep your attention. But, give her a stage and a microphone and you'd forget every song you've ever heard but hers.

"Man, when you described her so, um, colorfully, I thought you were just talking as a man in love. I see you weren't exaggerating," his companion, Barry Holmes, commented. "When can I meet her?"

Hill raised an eyebrow. "You'll have to do your own meet and greet. I just brought you here so you can listen to her. Whatever you do hereafter is up to you."

Barry was one of the best music producers in the country. His entourage was out and about mingling with the patrons of The Jelly Roll, so Hill could only hazard a guess as to what the entire group's thoughts were about Anna. From the gleam in Barry's eyes, he knew the producer was pleased. "Barry, when you meet her don't mention my name," Hilliard requested.

Barry cocked a brow at him. "Is it that bad?"

Hill didn't answer. Barry was his mother's third ex-husband, and the second youngest of the lot. He was only seven years older than Hill. Though that made them peers, you still didn't talk about women to your former stepfather.

Barry sat back in his chair with a frown. "It's a pity though."

"Pity what?" Hill asked. He took a sip of his beer, all the while unable to take his eyes from Anna.

"Pity for both of us. Looks like she's pregnant. It'll be hard for her to work on a singing career if she's a mother. And with a voice like that, instant fame is guaranteed."

Hill choked on a mouthful of his beverage. His eyes flashed from Anna to Barry then back again. Just then, Anna turned slightly and what he saw would have floored him had he not already been seated. "You have got to be kidding me."

The producer raised his glass of whiskey to his lips and smirked at his former step-son's expression. The kid was so wise, and yet so foolish. "You don't come to a blues club to drink beer, Griff. You drink bourbon," he sagely informed him.

Hill couldn't believe he hadn't noticed such a significant change in her body. He'd convinced himself that the little bulge was where she carried the extra pounds that she'd put on recently. He hadn't interpreted it as pregnancy. Now that he thought about it, it must be. A few weeks back, he'd been enraptured by the sight of her breasts spilling from a gown that she'd worn a thousand times before. She'd never spilled from it before. He should have known something was up then, because that café au lait bosom had been even creamier and brightly glowing than it usually was. Since that blessed night, Anna had covered herself with scarves and jackets that hid her bosom. Hill had been disappointed by the obstruction of the view, but he'd cast it off as her dressing for the weather. Then, she'd started wearing slim pants and loose blouses instead of her customary gowns. But again, he'd thought she was just trying to hide the excess weight. He would have never guessed she was hiding a kid under there.

If one and one still added up to two, then depression wasn't the only diagnosis the doctor had given her. He remembered her getting sick in his office, fainting outside the door, crying, and pushing him out of her life. It all made sense. She was pregnant and if he hadn't invited Barry to come see her perform, he might not have realized until it was too late. Anna was pregnant. With his child.

He had no doubt about that. He thought about how so 'in her head' she'd been that the sex had been the worst he'd ever experienced, despite his best efforts. She hadn't been comfortable, and he hadn't known why until it was too late. He should have left her alone after their first round, rather than stuck around to try and build a dream from fragments of the night. But, he hadn't. He'd stayed long enough to plant a part of himself inside her.

Still! She hasn't called to tell me about the baby.

What did she want from him? Was she waiting for the kid to be born so she could get him to give her that money she wanted? No. Something told him that wasn't Anna's way.

The men in his family might have had their problems, but they had been loving fathers. Alezanna denied him the chance to try. She'd forced him into a role of inadvertent negligence. If he didn't own up to his responsibilities, he would be a deadbeat dad. Would she have told him? He doubted it. In fifty years - if he managed to outlive her - some kid would have shown up on his doorstep claiming to be his. The middle-aged kid would have to hunt for his father on his own because close-mouthed Anna would never have told him who his father was, thereby denying him his legacy. The worst part was, his son or daughter might have ended up working in his circles, because no Griffin male born on either side of the blanket, in five generations, had ever strayed from the fields of banking or high finance. He sighed. Blood always told. It was a profound thought to realize that such a minute part of himself had become so much more.

Smugly, beneath his convictions and concerns, he took satisfaction that he was not the only one who had been left affected by their encounter. She could deny it all she wanted, but the fact remained that half of that blood and soul she was carrying belonged to him. Thoughts raced through his mind. If she didn't want him to know about the baby, he could either walk away or impose himself on her. Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Hill studied her stomach. She has taken a piece of herself and grafted it to a piece of me. It was a romantic thought, but he was a romantic where Alezanna Dux was concerned. He didn't know her enough to know if this child between them was a good thing. All he cared about was the fact that no matter how much she pushed him away, she would never be able to forget him now. It was fitting because while he could walk away from the kid, he could not say the same about the mother.

He warned his ex-step-father: "Whatever you decide to do about approaching Alezanna is up to you. Just don't mention my name." He glanced at his watch. She'd be done singing in about a half-hour. "Barr, I've got to go. It was great seeing you. Stay. Enjoy yourself. Tell Paula hello for me." Paula was Barry's new wife. She was the assistant that he had not had an affair on Hill's mother with. Barry probably should have had the affair that he ended up paying Hill's mother some serious alimony for. Instead, it had taken four years after the divorce before Barry had even noticed Paula in that way.

"Same to your mother and your new Papa, What-his-face," Barry replied.

'Whats-his-face' was the real estate agent Hill's mother, Colleen Griffin, had 'tangibly looked at' when she should have been looking for a house to purchase with Barry. Based on his mother's history since his father's death, Hill had every reason to be disillusioned when it came to women. But, because of her, he also had every reason to believe that there was one person in this world made exclusively for him. He just had to know her when he found her.

Anna thought she caught a glimpse of Hill, storming through the crowd, his face like thunder. She looked again but was blind to the shadow disappearing beneath the spotlight. Surely, Hill wouldn't be here tonight. As per her request, she hadn't heard from him in the months since that last phone call. Things hadn't gotten much better financially, but she'd learned something new. She'd learned that when you hit rock bottom, the only place to go is right back to the top.

Her pregnancy was the catalyst for that revelation. It was one thing to wallow in misery when her world consisted of herself and no one else. This child that she carried was her responsibility. He or she was her family. Its survival was solely dependent on her. The Grand Hotel could be compared to that child. For all intents and purposes, Anna couldn't afford another mouth to feed. However, since she'd made up her mind to raise the baby on her own, she didn't have any other option. Every now and again guilt would overwhelm her. She should call and let Hill know he was about to be a father. But then, selfishness and shame would stop her from making that call.

She'd stretched the little that she had in order to nourish her child as much as possible. As for the hotel, right now it wasn't a hotel. Anna had discovered that need and pride had no business in the same sentence. Through a chance encounter, where she'd hired two guys from the Architectural program at a nearby school to pick up two old sofas that were being offered for free online, she'd heard about a place that gave away unused house-paint to people who needed it. Whatever she could find between freebies and pieces from the hotel that hadn't been sold off - had been used to repair six of the suites. The guys worked for a place to live, their rooms a little better than the dorms they would have returned to at the start of the traditional school year.

Against the mandatory bed-rest ordered by her doctor, Anna had also gone about getting the place ready for use. By the time the baby arrived, she should be pulling in a steady enough income to support them through the first few months. She'd learned to be her own electrician and plumber, installing ceiling fans and repairing clogged drains and faulty showers. Steadily, she had chipped out the yellowed tubs in three of the bathrooms and had the boys replace them with concrete shower floors. The walls of the showers were fearfully constructed out of the glass shower-doors that she'd taken down. Those she'd edged with chips of blue-green tile. At the end of her minor renovations, the more stunning rooms were kept on reserve for higher-end potential clients. Then, she'd joined the world of social media. She'd 'Friended' the nearest universities and colleges, visited them during orientation week, and aggressively advertised the six 'studio' apartments she had available to rent for the next semester. Her property might never again be a grand hotel. Some might even view it as a gypsy in Frisco. But, it was her only chance for a good life, and if she had to continue to shop at the poor man's market in order to secure that life, so be it.

Months ago, she'd determined that if she told Hill about the pregnancy he would be just the type to want to be a part of the child's life. If he believed their one night together had been 'productive', he'd want to contribute financially to that child's welfare. That was the last thing Anna needed. Maybe in time, when she was more confident in her ability to provide an better quality of life for her baby she might consider telling him. But for right now, she did not want to share her sole reason for living. It wasn't so wrong to be selfish, was it?

So, Anna continued to keep her secret. At least, she hoped it would remain a secret for a while longer.

The club was big and dark except for the lights on the stage and bar, so she wasn't sure if the person she'd glimpsed moving through the crowd was Hilliard. Anna didn't know if he came around any more. She couldn't imagine him having a reason to. Not after her last goodbye. Therefore, blinded by the glare of the spotlight, Anna didn't see Hill when he turned around for one final look at her before leaving the club - just as she and Tony began the Tom Petty and Stevie Nicks duet, Stop Dragging My Heart Around.

This time, Anna had plenty of time to spot the man standing under the parking lot light outside her personal living area at the hotel. She identified him by his pose - hands in his pockets as he leaned against the pole - rather than what she could see of him. She had her suspicions about why he was there, but didn't give them too much weight. Perhaps this was a random visit, and not the confrontation that she wasn't ready for. Honestly, she was tempted to just drive over him in order to avoid having to talk.

When she pulled into her parking space, he strolled ahead to stand outside her door. With more confidence than she felt, Anna climbed out of her car and walked to her apartment.

"What do you want?" she asked without preamble.

"To talk to you," he replied flatly.

Alarm bells went off in her head. Admittedly she knew nothing about him, but she suspected that tone was his no-nonsense voice.

"I'm tired. It's nearly two a.m., and I've got to work in the morning. Could you please delay your attempts to waste my time until I have time to waste?" she stuck her key in the door. Big mistake. Hill pushed her inside and followed. "What the-" She was genuinely terrified. What if he was a stalker? A serial killer?

In the eternal instant that it took to react and process, Anna lashed out with her keys, aiming for his eyes and praying she would wound him enough for her to escape. She cut into his brow, her downward slash was abruptly stopped by a strong hand clamped around her wrist. It came down to her or him, and by God it would be him! Anna bit into that hand, drawing blood even as her knee came up to smash between his thighs. She hadn't worked late nights for this long without knowing how to defend herself.

"What the hell-" Hill finished his outburst with a low, agonized growl through gritted teeth. The next thing he knew a ripping pain shot from his groin to his head, leaving him with just enough presence of mind not to release her.

Seeing white in his agony, Hill hauled her to the ground with him, rolling so that he lay across her torso, pinning her arms beneath his bulk. That didn't take the fight out of her, and he was in too much pain to try and calm her down. Hill rested on her body knowing she was sturdy enough to bear his weight. Like a trapped wildcat, Anna flailed. Her free forearms flew out, fingers clawing and pinching. Her teeth gnashed, biting into his shoulder. Silently, he bore it all, just grateful that his manhood was away from her knees.

"Anna! The baby!"

She froze.

When he was able to speak again, he reached beneath his stomach to press his hand against her body. "I just came to ask if you're pregnant?" his hand slid downward until he cupped the small bulge of her belly where their child grew.

She gasped, calming at his soothing tone. "Get off me."

Warily, he complied. They shifted away from each other, Hill, scooting backwards until his back rested against the closed door. Alezanna - fighter Alezanna - crawled backwards on hands and knees until there was at least a good ten feet between them and an open room behind her. Glaring at her, he reached up and locked the door before tugging her purse closer. If he gave her an inch, she'd take an out, and they needed to talk. He just hoped she didn't have a gun hidden somewhere in this apartment.

"Anna, I want you to tell me the truth," he said. "Are you pregnant?"

They had a standoff. Both were determined to get what they wanted. Two hungry predators, they each waited for the other to make an incautious move.

"What you want doesn't matter," she replied tartly.

"Answer my question."

"You forced your way into my apartment to say I look fat? I put on a little weight, but you-"

Hill cut her off. "Anna, cut the bull. I know you're pregnant. Why didn't you tell me?"

Her glare turned scornful. "You don't know anything about me."

"I know you had a twenty-eight inch waist," he immediately responded.

Her brows shot up and her mouth opened and closed like a fish. "How could you possibly know that? Are you some sort of stalker, breaking into people's homes?"

Guiltily, he shifted. "I sometimes wonder," he admitted under his breath. To her he said, "I did not 'break into' your home. You knew I was going to come inside the moment you saw me standing out there. As for your waist-size, believe it or not - you had my complete attention when I made love to you." He leaned forward, rolling to his knees to meet her stare. "Now fess up. You won't be able to deny the truth in a few months. Admit you're pregnant." He sounded like the serpent in the garden, his voice tempting her to act against her will.

"Why should I?" she countered bravely. "It's probably not yours."

"I'm the only partner you've had!" he snapped.

"That you know of. Since that night, I may have had multiple partners."

"You work day and night. You don't have time." He knew he was being rude, but how dare she keep something like this from him? He deserved to be told about their child. Not to have to figure it out, or be informed by someone who'd taken one look at her and known that she was carrying his baby.

"Were you ever going to tell me?" he ground out, crawling closer even as she drew backwards.

"You're not the father."

"Yet! DNA testing would stop this argument in a heartbeat," he snapped at her. "I know you don't sleep around. I know you don't have time to be dating. Why-"

"It's Rascall's," she blurted. "We did it a few times. And here I am." Anna threw her hands wide.

"We'll see," he promised. "When that child comes, we'll see who the courts say the father is. Some deadbeat musician, or me. No matter who you name, Anna Dux, I'm the only father that child will ever have."

"You don't even belong in the 'potential' father line. Just go away." She reached out and shoved him. "Get out of my home before I call the cops." Anna scrambled to her feet as he stood.

With one last glare in her direction, Hill opened the door and departed.

She rushed to the door and locked it; and knew she was almost back to her old self when she slid to the floor in front of it, and only a single tear fell.

"Fine. It's yours."

She stormed into his office not two days after their battle. She'd had two nights off from the club, and since there was not much else she could do at the hotel until the semester started, Anna had been left with far too much time to think.

Like before, there was no chance of Kevin stopping her. Though to give him credit, the assistant was hot on her trail.

"I'm sorry, Sir. I couldn't stop her."

The three men in his office turned in their seats when the door opened. A corner of Hill's mouth twitched, but he schooled his features before looking up from the documents and computer before him. When he did, he had to inhale deeply to rally his thoughts.

The woman had style and he had always been a sucker for red. Her dark curls cascaded over one shoulder, revealing a single rhinestone stud earring. Someday, he promised himself, she would wear diamonds. She wore a deep red suit, paired with a white and burgundy striped satin blouse. Her accessories were a black handbag - accented with a scarf that matched her blouse, and an indecent pair of black pumps with silver heels. On her left hand she wore a silver and rhinestone ring so shiny it demanded attention. Distractedly, he made a mental note that cheap rings didn't look good on her hands but big stones did. She had long, elegant fingers with wide palms and medium-length oval nails. No wonder she'd done so much damage, with nails like those. She was so beautiful, and so fierce. She was a woman a man would be proud to call his.

He sat there like an idiot for several seconds, attempting to process her words and her outfit - appreciating both. If things were different between them, he might have emptied his office and ravished her. Given her a better reason to mark him. His forehead still burned where the vicious woman had scratched him with her key. Heck! If she was his, he would not have had to ravish her on the desk because he'd have been spending his lunch hour with her planning for their child's arrival, or making love with her in bed. If she was his, he'd have wrapped up this meeting and dragged her to his home upstairs. As things were, it was all he could do not to grin like a buffoon.

Hill really hadn't expected her to confess so easily. He'd expected a few more days, months even, of fighting; not this easy capitulation. Suddenly, he was suspicious. What if the child wasn't his? He eyed her. She had too much attitude as she stood there with her hand on her hip and her eyes glaring at him. The kid was his. No doubt about it. She wasn't the type to lie about something like this. He knew her enough to know that.

He also knew she could hold a grudge. After all, she still hadn't forgiven him for leaving the morning after their one night together. Someone not holding a grudge would have given him a chance to redeem himself. Fighting his smile, he rose and leisurely strolled to the door with his hands in his pockets.

"Thank you," he said.

"Well." Her eyes darted over the other men in the office as they curiously surveyed her. "Now you know. I'll inform you when it arrives."

"I'll see you around, Anna," he bent and kissed her forehead. Chances were she'd bite him again if he went anywhere near her mouth. As it was, he still had bruises, and dashes shaped like ovals and half-moons on his arms and torso. And the near miss of a black eye on his brow. Someday, he'd make her pay for that. Someday, he'd teach her to react with eagerness and not apprehension whenever he drew close.

"Goodbye, Hilliard."

Hill shook his head contemplatively as he returned to his desk. He had his work cut out for him.

The next morning, Anna was partially under her car, fixing a knocking she'd been hearing for a few months now. She'd wanted to get it out of the way before she would be unable to attend to it on her own. Her little mound of a belly was too tall to put under the body of the car, so it and her legs stuck out.

"What the hell are you doing?" the owner of a pair of running shoes and the nicest calves she'd ever seen, shouted.

She felt her blanket and creeper - ergo, herself - being pulled from beneath the jalopy. When she could see his face, Anna realized she wasn't the only one fuming.

"Only a real idiot would pull somebody from under a car like that. You don't know where my hand was. I could have been hurt. Who told you to touch me? Did I invite you to haul me from under the car like a sack of potatoes? What is your problem? Why do you keep showing up? Haven't I made myself clear? Should I spell it out for you? I DON'T LIKE YOU! I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN!"

Hill glared down at her as she struggled to sit up. He wondered if he was a masochist. She had the mean attitude of a hungry grizzly, but he just kept coming back for more.

"Only a real idiot would endanger herself and her kid by crawling under a car like that. Here's an idea. Take the car to a mechanic. Better yet. Get rid of this rust bucket." If he wasn't so angry, he would be amused by the fact that she had to roll to her knees and pull herself up using the door in order to stand. Her belly wasn't even that big. It just made her ungainly.

When she stood facing him, Anna propped her greasy hands on her hips and glared. "I told you what you wanted to hear. Why are you here again?"

"I came to talk about the baby."

"It's in my stomach. Got a few more months before it comes out." She pulled a rag from the back of her jeans and began wiping her hands.

"Duh!" he mumbled. "Can we go inside? It's hot as heck out here."

"I don't want you in my home. I've told you what you need to know."

"I wonder why I never realized you can be such a bitch."

Anna, who was lowering the jack, froze. Slowly, her head swiveled so she could glare at him over her shoulder. "Did you just call me a bitch?"

"You're acting like one," he defended. "I'm trying to talk t-"

"And when," she cut him off, "did you ever have a conversation with a female dog. Because, they're the only bitches I know of."

He turned his back on her and began storing her equipment in the open trunk of her car. "That nasty attitude of yours is real bitchy. You just keep barking and growling and snapping like a bitch. If you don't want me making a comparison, then stop acting like one. Finish lowering the car and roll me the jack."

"If you don't like my attitude, then avoid my company. Stop seeking me out."

"Not an option." He came around the car and lowered it for her. Deftly, he packed the hydraulic jack back into its case. What kind of woman owns a hydraulic jack? he wondered. Then he began wondering if he owned one. Once everything was secured, he grabbed her above the elbow and dragged her to the door of her apartment. She didn't go quietly.

"When was the last time you saw the doctor?" he queried over her demands to be released.

She glared at him mutinously.

"Answer me, Anna." He didn't need to shout. Somewhere in that thick head of hers, she understood that the quieter he became, the angrier he was.

"That day."

"What day?"

"The day I fainted."

"The day you found out you were carrying my child?" he asked. "The day you kicked me out of your life? Is it that day you are talking about, Alezanna?"

"How did you find out about the baby? I didn't tell anyone."

"I saw you at the club."

"Oh, it was you."

"You saw me?"

"Maybe."

"Hmm!"

"Still, I try to hide the belly. You must have been looking real close to notice it."

Not as close as I would have liked, he thought. He smiled thinly. "I notice everything about you. Tragic, isn't it?" Hill took her over to the kitchen sink and started washing the grease from her hands like she was a toddler. While he was at it, he inhaled the scent of her shampoo. She smelled clean and fresh. Her hands were slightly calloused, rough in patches despite her nails being perfectly groomed. They weren't delicate hands, nor were they manly. Lust-inducing, yes. But more than that. They were... capable. Which made him like them even more.

When he was done, she pulled her hands away from him and went to the refrigerator to collect the jug of filtered water. Seeing that she was not about to offer him refreshment, Hill took the pitcher from her and poured himself some. She rolled her eyes but didn't say anything.

"Where do you want to have this conversation?" he asked.

Her brows crinkled. "How come you are so certain my baby is yours?"

Hill took his time answering that question. Turning away from her, he rinsed his glass in the sink as he spoke. "I've made love to you."

Anna was even more confused. "We had sex. Big difference." After a moment, "What has that got to do with it?"

Sighing, he faced her. "In bed. You're not a very warm woman, so I know you won't actively go out and find a lover." Before she could respond he hurried to say, "You asked so I'm answering. But, let me finish before you start snarling again."

Her lips pulled into a tight pout. "Fine. I won't snarl at the fact that you're telling me I'm cold in bed."

"If a man pays attention to the woman he's with, he gets to know her. You got wet, and you came around me three times that night. But, instead of screaming or biting my shoulder, pulling me closer, or anything a more sexually liberated woman would do, you bit your lips and closed your eyes. You were so afraid to let me see how much you enjoyed making love to me that I don't think you'd have just gone to bed with another man after that. You were too uncertain of the kind of response I'd want from you.

"Most importantly, you were a virgin. A woman doesn't make it to twenty-six without giving up her virginity, only to start hopping into bed with every man she meets. Your mind's not hardwired that way. If you'd said you'd had one lover after me, I might have believed you. But you claimed more than one. Which is a ridiculous claim for a woman who's made to love one man her entire life. As long as your mind's not interested, you're never going to get involved with another man." His last statement was said with absolute conviction.

"What about when I told you it was Tony's?" she folded her arms across her chest. Seemed like he'd spent a whole lot of time analyzing her. Instinct warned that it would be more dangerous for her to confirm or deny his conjecture than it was to pretend ignorance. "Tony and I have history. Maybe I realized how important he is to me after I made the mistake of you."

Hill almost groaned aloud. Her breasts had swollen so much that he could see where the line of her bra pressed into them. Her nipples must also be sensitive because her movement made them stick out like little round pebbles. He remembered that night when she'd worn the dress, and he almost lost his mind thinking about the glazed coffee surface of her skin.

"If you were my woman, there's no way I'd leave you alone with some guy in a parking lot at night." He mimicked her pose. "He'd have to find you during the daytime when I wasn't around. Tony let you talk to me that night, so he couldn't have had any claims on you."

"Oh." She wondered if he thought anyone could let her do anything. If their roles had been reversed that night, Hill would have had to leave her alone so she could talk to Tony. There was no letting her do what she'd put her mind to do. A grown woman didn't need permission to live. But, she let that one go.

"So," he paused, "how are we going to raise Hilliard the Fourth?"

"Alex," she replied absently, still miffed that he seemed to think he had her all figured out.

"Excuse me?"

As if she'd forgotten he was there, Anna blinked at him. "My child is going to be named Alex Lorin."

Hill did not put his foot down on much, but he did this time. "Look Anna, I know you have sentimental reasons why you think our kid should be named Alex Lorin, but Hilliard has been tradition for my family for six generations. My great-great-grandfather was Hilliard Stokes Jr. When my great-grandmother married, we became Hilliard Griffins. My first son must be Hilliard."

"Well," she replied slowly, as if he was dense, "when you have a love-child, or get married, you can name your first son whatever you want."

"I can? I'll remember that promise when the time comes," he grinned.

"This kid right here?" she pointed to her belly. "He's going to be Alexander Lorin Dux."

"Dux?" Hill exploded. Just as suddenly he subsided. Hilliard Alexander Lorin Dux-Griffin. I can live with that mouthful, but would the kid? Dux, for short then, or Hal. Hal wasn't so bad. Hill - Alex - Lorin. Hal Griffin's not too far from Hill Griffin. There. He'd settled on a name she couldn't possible find fault with. "Now, why haven't you gone to the doctor since you found out about the pregnancy?"

Anna didn't think the fight for the baby's name was over, but decided that a truce at this point would be tactical. She was the last Dux, so her baby must be a Dux. Anything else was simply not an option. Some battles were best fought silently. She strolled into the living room and sat down. Unfortunately, the only seating in the room was a loveseat, and Hill promptly took up two-thirds of the space on that.

"Where would I find the cash? You told Mr. Connor not to give me that loan, and I've had to save every extra penny since." She glared at him, resentful without a justifiable cause. She wasn't even angry about the pregnancy anymore. It had given her a purpose that she hadn't been able to find on her own.

"What happened?" he inquired. "I read your file and it says you own the hotel free and clear, but that you're in debt up to your eyeballs because of your grandfather's medical bills. Why don't you sell the property, clear your name, and try for a singing career?"

Anna turned away, her mood shifting from mildly snarky to morose in an instant. Rather than look at Hill, she started fidgeting with her fingernails. "My grandmother died just before I was born. Father took it hard and he came to live with us. He left some guy to take care of things out here. My dad's plan was to retire after the Robles fight. He was only thirty-eight. Looking back, I think he may have had a premonition because Dad was always loving, but not overly affectionate. The last time I saw him alive, he took Father and me to Mirano's Italian Cuisine. It's a fancy restaurant in South Beach, Miami."

"I know the place," Hill nodded, almost glad to have something so simple in common with her. The restaurant was the best place for authentic Italian food in the city. They didn't put tomatoes in everything, and their desserts were exquisite. Whenever he was in the Miami, he always stopped in for dinner and an espresso. "Great place."

"Yeah. It is. My mom had died not long before, so it was just us. I was almost seventeen, I think." Her nose wrinkled as she tried to remember her age. Then she blinked. "I was still sixteen because my dad bought me my first evening gown to celebrate. He and Father wore their best tuxedos and rented a limo to drive us to the restaurant." A small smile quirked the corners of her lips. "Anyway, I was used to Daddy having an entourage, but that night, it was just me, him, and Father. There we were, in one of the classiest restaurants in town. For the first time in my life, I had veal. It was so translucent when I held it up to the candle light I saw straight through it. My dad sent my plate back with a message to the chef." Anna snorted in laughter, barely able to mimic her father's tone, "If I'm paying fifty bucks a plate for that thing, you better send damned near the whole veal out here.'" She was encouraged when Hill chuckled. "If you'd ever seen Daddy, you'd know how terrified the poor waiter was. They made a spectacle of themselves, Father telling everybody in the restaurant that his son would be fighting Robles in a few days, Daddy talking to his public. I was a teenager, so I was obligatorily embarrassed by them. Then, Daddy made things worse. He ordered the biggest, messiest gelato the restaurant could create. It was the ultimate trashcan ice-cream. You name it, it was on there. There was so much we couldn't eat it all. So, what did my dad do? He has the waiter send a bowl of the muck to every customer in the place, and we still had leftovers."

"That's a nice memory to have," Hill said, wanting to reach across the distance and hold her hand but knowing she wouldn't welcome the gesture. He settled instead for the juvenile classic of stretching his arm along the chair behind her.

"It is a nice memory, isn't it?" Her smile turned sad. "I didn't appreciate that experience when I was living it, but looking back, and knowing what I do now, I'll never take things like that for granted again. You see, Daddy trained hard before every fight. He was strict about his diet, but Mirano's was the place my family used to go to celebrate when my mother was alive. The fact that Daddy ate such rich food so close to a fight says a lot. It was like he was throwing off all the grief from the past year and wanted to move on, and the fight with Robles was the last burden before his retirement. But my dad didn't survive the fight. After he was gone, it took a long time for me to remember that night. But, I remember it now, along with so many other awesome moments. That's the same way it took me a long time to remember Father too. When Daddy was gone, we moved back out here and tried to pick up the pieces of our hearts, and what was left of this hotel by a scheming manager. After Father passed, I was angry at God and the world about everything. I thought I was alone. But, I wasn't. I remembered how to cope. This hotel has helped me survive in ways that nothing else on Earth could. It is a reminder that though my family has experienced great tragedy, they were always faithful to their purpose, and resilient. It is mine, and I'll do whatever it takes to keep it singly and solely mine."

This was the most Hill had ever heard her speak about anything. Her tone was so full of passion that he marveled at how she could keep so much inside her. But then, something had happened to Anna over the past few months. While he studied the earnestness of her features as she told her story, Hill was able to identify what that change was. Healing. It was coming in slow degrees, but it was coming. The woman he'd fallen for - because 'yes', his obsession was proof that he had fallen badly - was not the woman she really was. That cool, aloof woman wouldn't have fought him like a wildcat at just the hint or perception of a threat. She would have let him barge into her house, calmly listened to him talk, then told him 'Goodbye' in that annoying way she had. He'd never hated a word more.

This Anna was different. In a strange way, he was glad they'd fought. He was glad she'd barged in on a meeting to announce that he was their child's father. He was glad she was talking to him about anything, but especially about her past. He was glad that when she smiled in memory, it wasn't a smile that was designed to be a stunning facade. It was simply and uniquely Anna's beautiful smile.

Anna looked up from twisting her fingers and met his gaze head on. "You asked why I won't sell the hotel. It's as much a part of my heritage as those values of healing and survival. We tried to stay afloat, but there was what remained of my grandmother's medical bills, and then Father started getting sicker and sicker. I think it broke his heart at the end because he kept talking about regretting the debts he was leaving behind. In my family, we don't walk away from our responsibilities."

"I can relate. My family has the same principles." Hill replied, reluctant to interrupt and remind her that they were having an actual conversation. The last thing he wanted was for her to clam up - not when he was finally learning what she kept closest to her heart. It was like a gift that Anna would open up like this. She kept herself so isolated that he doubted even her closest friend Tony knew this much about her. Every petal of her past that she unfurled to him was an honor received with great appreciation.

"Then you understand. If I let go of the property, I'd be letting go of the one thing of value that he left me."

Hill could understand that, but the financier in him could not. "But, the value of the property is much more than your debt. Honestly, I read your file after you accused me of meddling in your affairs. Don't look at me like that. I had to see what I was being accused of." He returned her glare in equal measure and was rewarded when she turned her face away in silence. "As things stand, the taxes alone on this place are going to wipe out whatever inheritance you received from your parents."

Her lips tightened - the only sign from her that acknowledged his truths.

"You could just sell the hotel, pay off the debts, and be rich for the rest of your life. It may have been the life your grandfather wanted for you. I think any parent or grandparent would prefer that to leaving their children with a millstone around their neck - like the hotel." Or she could offer the hotel as collateral on a loan that was large enough to cover the debts, and remodel the whole building. If she offered the building, her chances of getting a loan would be much greater. He didn't get to mention this option to her though, because of the glare she sent his way was a vivid reminder of how he'd gotten the bite-mark still on his hand.

"If you had to choose between selling the bank your grandfathers built or paying off a debt one bit at a time, maybe for the rest of your life so that you won't be the one to lose your legacy, what would you do?"

"I'd sell the bank," he said baldly. "Then, I'd use the cash to pay off my debts and start again from scratch."

"Hmm!" Anna wasn't buying that. "You can afford to think the way you do, Silver Spoon."

Hill gave her a nasty look out of the corner of his eye and remained silent.

"This place is the dream of everyone I've ever loved. If all I've got to control this fire are buckets of water, then buckets of water I'll throw on it."

"Until it either burns you out or consumes you."

"My consumption is not an option. The bank denied my loan application, but that does not mean I'm without resources."

That surprised him. "What are you going to do?"

Anna studied him, trying to determine if he was really interested in what she had to say, or just humoring her. Her hand rested on the mound of her stomach. "My goals changed when my priorities changed."

He turned and acknowledged her gesture by resting his hand on the back of hers. Looking into her eyes he said, "My priorities have changed also, but my goal remains the same." There was a wealth of information in that statement. Changing the subject to lighten the mood, Hilliard teased, "You still call your father Daddy?" If he continued to have a serious conversation with her at that moment, she wouldn't be open to another conversation in the near future. But, if he played this thing smartly, he'd be back at her place tomorrow night and they'd talk things through. And maybe, in time she'd get used to coming to him with her problems, to confiding in him, and trusting that he would always have her best interest at heart.

Anna's lips twisted in laughing embarrassment, and it was one of the most beautiful things he'd ever seen.

"Is there a problem with that?" she quipped.

"No," he laughed, leaning back on the loveseat. He much preferred her smiling at him to her scowling. "No problem at all. Just that most people start using Mom, or Dad by the time they hit their teens."

"My dad called his father Daddy up to the day he died," she confessed. "It never sounded strange until you mentioned it. Maybe I'm old fashioned but I don't think my father's name should change just because I grew up."

Teasingly, he grinned at her. "So, you'll encourage our kid to call me Daddy, and only Daddy even when he's sixty and we're too old to really care?"

Rather than respond, she bit her lower lip.

A few weeks later, and probably about a month's worth of peace between them, Hilliard stopped by her apartment again. This time, he was there before eight. It being a Sunday - the day after she worked latest at the bar - Alezanna was still in bed. The morning sickness had eased some, but it still affected her during the last half of overnight hours; meaning that this early in the morning, she was sound asleep.

The bell rang insistently.

Knowing who it was, she insistently ignored it.

It was one thing to spend an hour or two every couple of days or so talking to Hill. She'd gotten used to him calling her, or dropping by unexpectedly, but it was downright rude of him to be showing up at her door this early in the morning.

Her phone rang.

She ignored that too.

Finally, fed-up with the pounding and the buzzing, Anna crawled out of bed, dragging her pillow and blanket behind her. She trudged through the darkened living room, knowing where everything was despite the fact that her eyes were only partially opened. One good thing about working nights was that her personal electricity bill was much lower than it could have been.

"What?" she asked, hauling the door open. Politeness was out of the question since she knew exactly who had stopped by.

"I brought breakfast."

She wrinkled her nose. "What kind?"

"Bacon and egg croissants, ham and egg bagels, mini sausage and cheese quiches."

"I'm allergic." Bam! she slammed the door in his face and turned back into the living room.

He tried the handle and found the door was unlocked. Hill shoved it partially opened. Knock-knock-knock!

"What?" she asked, taking a deep breath and raising her brows to show the annoyance that her heavy-lidded eyes couldn't do. "Didn't we agree that you would not come around until the baby's here? You're starting to make me regret my decision to share parenthood with you."

"Actually, that's what I came to talk about. That and to take you to church with me."

That woke her up. Alezanna lifted her head off her shoulder and took a good look at him. Tall, dark, fit, and handsome, she'd seen him in suits for work. But, she'd never seen him dressed for church. Most people she knew that attended services on Sundays wore semi-casual clothing. Hill was dressed in a crisp white shirt, and a double-breasted black suit with high lapels. The cut was more bespoke than designer, conforming to his physique to make him look even more masculine - even as it made him look much leaner than he already was. She liked the suit, and the dark reddish-brown shoes and tie that he wore with it.

"Church?" she croaked. She'd never in her life set foot inside one of those places.

"Church," he confirmed, pushing past her to enter the apartment.

"The last time you barged in like that, we ended up fighting," Anna grumbled, dragging her pillow and blanket back into the living room.

Hill's lips twisted to the side. "I wonder who won."

"Look. If you want to do your good deed for the day, just give the breakfast to the guy standing at the stoplight down the road. Pray for me while you're in church if you want, but I have absolutely no intention of leaving this apartment until after three p.m." With more grace in her tone than in her actions, Anna allowed her ungainly self to slide to the floor in front of the loveseat. "Lock the door on your way out."

As he sat on her loveseat, \- having stepped over her to get there - Hill thought about pestering her until he got his way. He thought of blackmailing her, and teasing her. What he didn't allow to formulate was the thought of 'ordering' her to get up off the floor and go get dressed. That would just be suicidal.

Thoughtfully, he studied the blue cocoon at his feet. The idea of taking her to church with him had come this morning as he was getting dressed. He was by no means a regular, nor did he live like a saint, but his father had gotten 'saved' listening to a radio broadcast years ago, and church had become a weekly family event right up to his death. Even Hill's mother, a notoriously secular woman, had become a regular attendee while her husband was alive. The last time she had set foot in a church however was the day she buried her first husband.

Hill had continued attending church once or twice a month because of the revelation his father had promised him would come one day. He went in search of that elusive truth that had made Hilliard Griffin II a devout and godly man, and a better husband and father than he had been before his conversion. He'd learned a lot from the daily devotionals his father shared with him in the back of their town car in the mornings while they had driven into the city for school and work. And, there were character building lessons he'd gotten from the Bible since Hill Jr.'s death. Most importantly, he had received unexpected comfort in coping with his father's untimely passing. Now that he had a family of his own in the making, religious faith was a value that Hill wanted to share with them. It had made his father the best man he could be; and though Hill had yet to receive the promised revelation, he hoped it would do the same for him. Unfortunately, it seemed like he'd picked the wrong woman to share the experiences of family and faith with. Anna didn't look like she'd be budging anytime soon.

With the tip of his toe he nudged her thigh. "Hey," he whispered above her. But she'd already dismissed him - if he went by the light snoring coming from the cocoon. With a deep sigh of disappointment, Hill bent to gather her in his arms and took her to bed.

"What are you doing?" was her murmured protest. "I'm too heavy."

He kissed her brow, wanting badly to lay her down and climb in beside her, but knowing that this wasn't the time. "I'm taking you to bed."

Her eyes were closed, but a brow rose. "I thought it was the woman that got tempted to taste the forbidden fruit when she should have been at church."

After lowering her to the mattress, he braced his arms on either side of her, fascinated with the translucent mahogany of her lids. "I'm tempted, but I won't taste. I can see you're not going to wake up and go with me, so I'll tell you what I have to say and leave." She turned on her side away from him. So, he tugged her shoulder until she sprawled on her back again. "Are you listening?"

"You are such a pain."

"You'll soon find that you love my kind of pain," he promised. "Now, listen closely. I'm going on a short trip to England tomorrow. I'll be back here next Sunday morning at the same time, so no lingering at the Roll after work. We're going to church, and then to lunch. Got that?"

"Sure. Whatever. Just go away."

"I'll remember that promise, Anna."

"Whatever." She turned back onto her side and was out for the count.

Hill lingered just long enough to wash the dishes in the sink, and toss the colorful load of laundry beside her bedroom door into the washer. He hadn't done household chores since leaving college, but it seemed they were unforgettable skills. Then he took the time to painstakingly write out a note to her. He made sure to spell her entire name correctly as: A-L-E-Z-A-N-N-A. He reminded her that they had spoken and she had agreed to go to church and lunch with him the following Sunday, and promised he would pick her up. He listed all his contact numbers and the address of his loft in London. In his note to her, Hill mentioned everything but the word 'goodbye.' Before he left, he returned to her doorway and stood there looking in. The only things to indicate that a woman was under those covers was the outline of a selfish sprawl, and the messy knot of hair on top of her head.

As he let himself out, he remembered to lock the door. Hill chuckled to himself. He must be making swift progress if she'd gone from brawling with him at the door to falling fast asleep while he prowled her home. Just a few more months and he'd have her right where he wanted her. In his bed, sighing his name.

Hill had been gone a total of four days. Anna knew this for a fact because she kept checking the date on the calendar as if it could change with the passage of every five minutes.

She'd succumbed to curiosity and Googled his name. Atop all the bios that were posted about him, was a recent photograph and article about his attendance at a society event in London. He was holding hands with a girl younger and prettier than Anna.

The following Sunday morning, Hill arrived at Anna's home bearing a white box overflowing with Dutch tulips. Anna must have been waiting for him because she answered the door on the very first knock.

"Good morning, beautiful," he greeted, a smile on his lips. He felt like he'd survived a drought. This past week was the first time in months that he'd missed a full week of her performances at the Roll. His preference was to listen to her four nights a week, but there were a few times where obligations had forced him to miss one or two shows. If she was his, he'd kiss her. He'd ask her for a melody or two - maybe four -, to make up for what he'd missed during the time that they were apart.

While he was in London, Hill had gone about business as usual, as if his heart wasn't back in San Francisco with the woman who carried the best part of him beneath her own heart. He'd attended soirées, and dined with some of the top banking executives in the city. He'd wheeled and dealt, negotiated and decided. All the while his mind had been occupied with fantasies of making love to Anna the way she was now - all hot and passionate -, rather than the cool and remote woman she had been such a short eternity ago.

Standing in the doorway, she looked scrumptious even as she looked rebellious. Pregnancy was beautiful on her. He now knew why some men kept their wives in state. Satiny skin, glowing eyes, shiny hair flowing as if she'd never had a bad hair day in her life, it all boiled down to one stunning package. But, the sexiest thing about her was the neat mound of her ever growing belly that she had made no attempt to conceal this morning. For, in deference to the boiling temperature outside, Anna was dressed in a pink sports bra and pair of navy basketball shorts that she'd tucked comfortably under her belly.

If only she was mine, he thought. As much as he wanted to, Hill knew that if he dropped to his knees and started showing some love to his first child while it remained in his mother's womb, he just might get a punch in the face from said mother.

"How's Hal doin' today?" he asked provocatively, stepping around her to enter the living room.

She did a double-take then, after a split second of wondering who Hal was, replied, "I don't know about Hal. You should probably ask that model you were with in England. Alex is doing all right though."

So, she saw that picture, did she? For Anna to have seen anything about him in the tabloids, she must have looked him up. Considering that the photograph had been featured in one of London's society magazines that wouldn't be found on any shelves in an American grocery store, she must have been checking up on him. Perhaps she'd missed him. He had wanted to call her. Had actually picked up his phone every night he'd been away to do just that, but had decided he was already doing enough of the chasing. If she missed him, she'd call.

"I brought you breakfast, and these." He handed her the flowers.

Anna accepted the box, but was clearly upset by his gesture. "Hilliard-"

"Just a 'thank you' will do. You might want to put them in some water before they wilt."

"You're acting as if we're together or something-"

"I'm acting as if I respect the mother of my child," he said, giving her a cold look from where he now stood in her kitchen. "Do you want me to stop? Because I can do that, you know."

Her lips tightened. "As long as you understand that what happened between us is in the past."

"Don't worry, Anna. I know you're locked down tighter than the bank's vault on a Sunday. Now, put those flowers away and come eat your breakfast. We've only got a half hour before we have to leave."

"I'm not going anywhere with you."

"Last week you promised me that we'd attend services together, then go out for lunch. You need to honor your promise."

Her expression became mulish. "Promises made under duress are intended to be broken."

"There was no duress involved in our conversation about attending church last week."

"There is duress involved in you citing honor as a reason to compel me to go to a place I've avoided all my life." Her back was ramrod straight. "I have nothing to say to God. Therefore, I have no need to go to His house."

Hill's face hardened like flint as he rested the bag he had been unpacking on the counter. "Faith is important to me, Alezanna. It is something my father shared with his family, and it is something I intend to share with mine. As long as you intend to have custody of my child, you will find yourself in church on Sundays. I don't care if you never pray a day in your life, but this is something you will teach my child. We will attend church together as a family."

"Your child? Are you the one who's pregnant? Are you threatening me for custody? Do you think you'll take this child away from me because I decided I don't want to take it to your stupid church?" She came toe-to-toe with him.

"Yes. If that's what it takes, then that's what I'm saying."

"You must be out of your mind," she said, taken aback. "Or have you forgotten that I don't have to bring this child into the world? I and only I made the decision to keep this baby. Otherwise, he'd be just a flame that was burned out before you ever knew it existed. I kept this child. And I promise you, Hill: the day you forget it, is the day you'll regret it."

Hilliard's face whitened. He stood there for long moments staring at the crazy woman who would say something like that right to his face. He should have known better than to threaten to take custody of the baby. It wasn't even what he'd meant; it just came out sounding like a threat. But, by the time he'd realized how his words might have been interpreted, it was too late. In his own messed up way, he was trying to let Anna know his intention of how they were going to raise this child and any future children they might have - because there was no parenting this child without loving the mother, difficult though she was to deal with. Sunday services was an important part of family life for him, but his family had become his life. The fact that the woman standing in front of him was... insane enough to even imply that the flame of his life might have been blown out without him ever knowing...

Anna knew she'd gone too far when Hill's face became as white as a sheet. He was livid! But, there was no turning back now. He'd gone too far as well. Everything had gotten out of hand. Their relationship was toxic. It was as if they existed for the sole purpose of bringing out the worst in each other.

Time seemed to stand still for a long while after she'd snapped at him, but the quiet ticking of the clock on the wall was consistent in its march. Hill took the first step. Rapidly, she backed away, pressing her back into the counter behind her.

He glanced to her right where the knife rack sat with handles up and his lips tightened. "At least you didn't reach for a weapon this time." Then he continued his walk.

It wasn't until he reached the front door that Anna regained her ability to speak. "Hill." His name was both a cry and a whisper falling from her lips.

Hill stopped with his hand on the doorknob. "You wanted to get rid of me, Anna?" With his back facing her, he studied the largest pothole in the driveway outside. This rundown hotel was more like its owner than he'd ever expected. It might have once been magnificent. It was full of potential. But, the fact was, there would always be parts of it that would never accept renovations, repairs, and upgrades. "Well, ma'am, you now have what you wanted. Send me a note when the baby comes. Meanwhile, I'll have my lawyers draw up provisions for him or her." His head swung to the side as he looked at her peripherally. "And, you better think twice before you go crawling under any more cars Anna. Because, if anything happens to that child, I'm coming after you hard."

Before she could respond, he was gone.

Days. Weeks. Months passed.

Hill had weaned himself from her voice cold-turkey. She'd glimpsed him that night he'd taken Barry to the Roll. Not wanting to take the chance that she might spot him in the crowd, he had avoided the place like it housed the plague. That didn't stop him from doing the occasional drive-by past the hotel.

It still carried the same old broken sign, but it was obvious that Anna had worked like a dervish to make it profitable. The grounds had been landscaped, and the main building in front of the tower where she lived had gotten a new coat of paint. He couldn't tell from his drives whether or not any other changes had been made because the rooms stretched along one long column of building away from the streets. And, Anna had never invited him on a tour of the place. What he did know was that there were now around fourteen cars that used the parking lot.

Anna. His lips curled at just the thought of her name. A more cantankerous woman he'd never met.

Since the day he'd walked out on her, they had communicated strictly through his attorneys. She was due to give birth any day now. Certain that she wouldn't contact him until a week after Hal came into the world, he'd set a private investigator on her. That wasn't entirely true. He'd set a discreet guard on her because he'd wanted pictures of her, wanted to know what was going on in her life. So far, she wasn't doing anything extraordinary except offering space for rent in her building. She was getting a steady income now, but if she had only fourteen or so tenants, that would be nowhere near enough for her to keep the hotel in the long run. Sooner or later, she'd run out of money. He wouldn't be the one to remind her of that fact. Every time he said something to her, they ended up arguing-

His door was rudely shoved open.

"Sir, I-"

"You coming?" Anna overrode Kevin's hasty apology for letting her interrupt his boss's musing hour.

Lazily, Hill sat up in his chair. "Coming? Where?"

She rolled her eyes. "The clinic. Where else? Do you think I came to take you to Magic Mountain?"

"Why?"

"I need your help to ride the merry-go-round." She cocked her brow. "Are you coming, or not?"

"Kevin, see that the car is brought around." He was already on his feet. With a sense of urgency that was not lost on those they passed in the hallway, Hill led Anna to the elevator. Once they were inside the thankfully empty space, he asked, "Are you in labor now? Or are you just checking into the hospital early or something?"

Her look was pained. "At first, I thought Alex was just getting a little aggressive, but once I realized what was happening, I came here. My water hasn't broken or anything, but my due date is tomorrow."

"I'm glad you came, but you should have just called. I'd have met you at the hospital. How did you get here?"

"I drove."

"While you're in pain?" he gasped.

"It's bearable."

Hill shook his head. It was no surprise that she'd say something like that. She was the kind of woman who'd be on the hospital stirrups gritting her teeth instead of allowing herself to cry out. Honestly, over the past few months the thought had crossed his mind a few times that Anna might have a hard time giving birth since the only time she'd made love was that fateful night. But then, he'd rationalized that as confident as he was of his size, it was nothing compared to the size of a child. Making love to her repeatedly during her pregnancy wouldn't have had that much of an impact on her ability to deliver easily. In fact, the only thing frequent sex might have affected was their relationship. After all, she was looking all mellow and gorgeous now. Her whole attitude had been transformed, and she was more like the woman he'd imagined her to be than she had actually been in the beginning. He couldn't even begin to dream of what it would be like to make love to her this way. Anna was always a stunner, but pregnancy really had a positive effect on her. If he'd been around every day for the past nine months, he might not have noticed the changes, but the sporadic times he'd been able to spend with her allowed him to see how she'd softened and blossomed. She still had a mouth on her, and an attitude that needed some serious work, but he much preferred the tenderness of her genuine smile to the polished brass she'd worn on stage ten months ago.

The car was pulled up at the curb when they arrived downstairs. His sometimes driver, Levi, stood with the door open.

"Anna, this is Levi. You need to tell him which hospital we're going to."

She took the time to shake hands with the driver then rattled off the address to a birthing clinic. "Levi, if you don't mind, I really need a burger before we go in. Can you take the drive-through at Big Friday's? I need a..." The rest of what she said was lost on Hill as he marveled that she seemed to have this thing perfectly timed, that she wanted to hit the drive-through on her way to give birth, and that she was searching her wallet for cash while he was standing next to her. "And get whatever you want too. My treat. It's a day to celebrate. You want anything, Hill?"

"Huh?"

"That's alright. You can decide when you see the menu." Then she climbed into the car, leaving the two men standing on the curb looking at each other in bafflement.

"Why are you going through the drive through?"

"This kid could decide to wait all day before he pops out. I'm not about to go hungry while he decides."

Nothing about her made sense to him. From what he'd seen, people always raced to the hospital when the pains started. And Anna was in pain. Every now and again little dents appeared at the corners of her mouth, but she kept on pretending that everything was cool. Moreover, from the way her cheeks had flushed a second ago, she'd realized - as had he - that this was the first time she was confirming that they were indeed expecting a son. Of course, he couldn't show his elation with Levi standing there.

During the time they were apart, he'd given a lot of thought as to what the gender of his first child might be. He'd wanted a son, but had decided that a little girl would be an awesome thing as well. Little girls worshipped their fathers, didn't they? He'd be her champion for the rest of her life. But he remembered what it was like to have a hero, and the idea of being Superman and the Hulk and Bruce Lee all rolled into one held just as much appeal to him. He'd fancied himself a man since Kelsey Mayor had let him feel her up after their third date nearly twenty years ago. But it wasn't until that very moment, standing on the sidewalk in front of the headquarters of his empire, that Hill knew himself to be a man. He had fathered a son. Maybe he'd have felt just as puffed up if she'd said they would be having a daughter, but the fact was, he'd fathered a son. There was no greater accomplishment in his life.

"Congratulations, sir," Levi said with a knowing grin.

"Thanks man."

After he'd climbed into the car beside her, Hill asked, "Where's your bag?"

Her startled gaze met his. "Uh... at home. I forgot it."

That was strange. "Anna, you've got this all planned out, but you forgot your overnight bag? Why didn't you pack it in your car weeks ago?"

"I took public transit. Okay?"

He wiped his brow to hide the shock his eyes might reveal. "What happened to your car? Did it break down?"

"No. I just didn't want to be driving it while I was in pain. That's how my mother died. She tried to drive to work through the pain in her neck, but didn't realize it was a heart attack."

"So you rode clear across town on the bus, while you are in labor?" It was taking everything in him to keep his tone moderate. "You should have just called. I'd have come to get you."

"Well, since you've only been talking to me through your lawyers, it was either call Cavanaugh and Cohan or come get you." She pulled a yellow envelope from her purse. "Here. If anything happens to me, I want you to have that."

Hill hefted the bundle. "What is it?"

"A copy of my will and other affairs."

A ironic expression crossed his face. She'd brought her will, but she'd forgotten her overnight bag. "You're not going to die, Anna."

"I'm not taking any chances. Just hold on to it in case anything happens to me. No! Don't open it now!"

"I need to know if I agree to any responsibilities that you might have laid on me before something that most likely will not happen happens to you." He was trying real hard to be reasonable.

She turned her head to look out the window nearest to her. "Don't pull the plug on me. And don't sell the hotel. Do whatever you can to leave it as a lasting legacy for Alex."

"Hal," he corrected, deeply touched by her trust that he would manage her estate according to her wishes.

Anna's head swung in his direction. "Why do you keep insisting on that awful name?"

"Hilliard Alex Lorin Dux-Griffin."

"How about Ahl? Alex Hilliard Lorin."

"We're here. I think I'll have one of those shakes and that burger she ordered, Levi."

"One large vanilla shake and a triple stack coming up."

"There's a park about a block away from the clinic. Would you mind if we stopped there to eat?"

"Are you waiting for your water to break in the car?"

She rolled her eyes. "I'd like to eat without feeling like I'm on the run."

"You are on the run. To the clinic," he pointed out. Then said, "You heard The Lady, Levi. Stop at the park."

Levi pulled the car up to the curb and got out, leaving them to eat in private. As if by unspoken agreement, they waited as he took his lunch to a bench before digging into their own bags.

"You look beautiful," Hill commented around a mouthful of burger. He'd ordered from Big Fridays often enough, but nothing had ever tasted like this. On the first bite, it was as if all the tension he'd been carrying around since their last argument months ago had drained out of him and was being replaced by greasy, meaty bliss. This was comfort food at its best - where an everyday burger could be transformed into the greatest meal on earth. Obviously Anna thought the same thing, judging by the way she'd thrown her head back and slid to a sprawl on her seat.

At his comment however, her eyes had opened and she just stared at him. "Who do you think he's going to look like?"

His lips twitched. "Me."

She snorted a laugh. "He'll probably have your ears. They stick off a little. That's bound to be a dominant gene."

"It would be tragic if he had your lips though. Can't have my son walking around with a girly mouth."

Twin dents appeared at the corners of those lips, and she ran her free hand over the mound of her stomach. They didn't say anything after that, just finished their meals in silence.

"Thanks for coming to get me."

"Thanks for coming with me."

"Wouldn't have missed this for the world." His eyes tracked the slow strokes of her hand over her belly. "There's something I've always wanted to do, but I don't know how you'll react. Just say 'no' if you don't want to."

Languidly, she lifted her eyes and met his gaze. "What is it?"

"Can I see your belly?"

"You saw it that day we argued."

"I know. But I mean, can I touch it?"

She shifted her hand out of the way. "Sure."

He twisted his mouth to the side. Anna was like a bomb, and he was never sure what would set her off. "I mean..." he said, waving his hand back and forth.

She stopped stroking. "You mean uncovered?"

He nodded.

"I'm wearing a dress, you know? And I've got stretch marks."

"It's alright if you don't want to." It wasn't alright at all. It was her fault he wasn't entitled to lift her dress, and it was her fault he hadn't spent months looking at her belly and stroking it. It was also her fault that she was the sexiest pregnant woman he had ever set eyes on.

Unexpectedly, she unbuckled her seatbelt and began to draw the hem of her dress upward. "Alright. You can see it. But if the stretch marks gross you out, that's your problem."

"I won't be grossed out," he promised.

Reverently, Hill waited as she drew her dress upward. The flirty pink hem slipped over her knees, over her thighs. This is what her legs look like in the light of day, he thought. Toned. Smooth. Shapely. Then he could see the beginning of her stomach and a strip of black cotton panties tucked under. She hadn't been joking about the stretch marks. Her stomach had been smooth and dark when they'd made love, but now it was covered in pale branches of scars. The innie of her belly button was now most definitely an outie. Before he could think better of it, he bent his head and pressed a kiss there on the little peak.

Hill drew back and looked up at her, fully expecting a fight. Anna's lips parted on a sigh, but she made no move to stop him. He moved his hand over her belly, stroking the taut flesh that held his son. This woman was amazing. He'd never been this close to a pregnant woman's belly. He pressed another kiss on the darkened line that bisected her womb. Then another kiss on the side, and another over there... and another... then he reveled in the feel of Anna's fingers scraping through his hair, massaging his scalp, pulling him closer. He felt her shiver and responded in kind.

"I'm not cold, Hill," she whispered.

"I know," he said, drawing away reluctantly.

She released his head so he could sit upright once more. "I'm just not ready for this thing between us. I hoped it would just fizzle out, but it's not dying, and I'm still not ready for it."

"I know," he said once more, drawing her into his arms, a little surprised that she came willingly.

With her head resting on his shoulder, Alezanna allowed herself to relax for the first time in a long time. It wasn't until after he'd walked out on her that she'd realized how unfair she was being, and how important Hill had become to her very existence. "You make me so mad sometimes that I want to just punch you."

"You did," he chuckled. "But don't try it again. Seriously. Don't hit me again, no matter how mad you get."

She sniffed, but said, "I won't. But only because you make me laugh. You make me laugh so much. But I'm not ready for someone like you. I've got a lifetime of mess to clean up before I can let myself fall in love. You kept coming around, and I could see it in your eyes, Hill. No matter how much I tried to push you away, you just kept coming around until I started to get hooked on the way you look at me. I'm not ready to be a man's whole world, Hill. Not when my world's up in the air."

He closed his eyes and rested his chin on her head to hide his expression. She knows, he realized. She's known all along. "There's no pressure, Anna. There never was. All you had to say was that you didn't want me. I'd have understood."

Anna snorted. "Really? Nothing I did or said gave you that message?"

"No," he admitted. "Everything you did told me you were scared of what we could have."

"Why did you want me, Hill?"

"Why do I still want you?" he corrected. "Maybe because you're the most frustrating woman I know. Maybe because I know that if I ever captured your heart it would be mine for the keeping. I know the important things about you, Anna. I can trust that if anything ever happened to me, you'd be able to pick up the reins of my affairs, and that you'd never let everything I've secured for our son collapse. I can trust that you'll blacken my eye if I ever get out of line. And that you'll keep yourself - not because you've got no passion, but because you have too much passion. You're the kind of woman who loves one man for life. You didn't trust me that night we made love. You weren't even open to the idea of trusting anyone, and it showed. But, when you are ready, I know you'll make love the way you fight. You'll put everything into it, and just the thought of scratching and biting and shredding the sheets with you keeps me hard day and night. Even your voice is my idea of perfection, Anna. I live for the day when I can make you sing my name."

Gently, he drew her away from his chest so he could look her in the face and say, "Quite frankly, Alezanna Dux, everything about you is everything that I want. Whether we're fighting, or sharing a laugh, or a moment while we wait for our son to be born, every experience we share is worth remembering. But, if you decide that you don't want to be with me ever, that's okay. Just don't expect me to ever move on from loving you."

A cry escaped her lips. "Hill, you can't wait for me."

"I already love you. I'm not waiting for what I've already found. I'm at the finish line, Anna. You just need to get here." He sighed. "Until then, we'll raise our son together. I won't expect more than you're willing to give. And if you decide you'd rather love somebody else, just know that he'll never love you as deeply as I do."

"What if all I can offer is shared parentage?"

He rested his hand on her bare belly where her dress remained high over their child. A small force pushed against his palm from within. Anna glanced at the clock on the dashboard. "How long has it been?" he asked.

"Twenty minutes."

"We should get going."

"Answer me first," she pressed, clutching his lapels. "What if all I can offer is shared parentage?"

"Then I'll count myself blessed that we brought this child into this world together," was his solemn reply.

"Barry offered me a recording contract."

He quirked a brow. "Oh? Barry?"

"Don't play dunce. All I had to do was look up his name to find out he was your stepfather."

"Fine. I brought him to the Roll one night. Did you accept his offer?"

"I told him you are my financial adviser, and that I'd have to run things by you first."

His lips twitched. "I was the one who negotiated your contract. You should accept it. The forward you get should cover the taxes for next year, but you're going to either have to let go of the hotel, invite others to invest in it, or get help."

"I can't do any of that." The heartbreak was in her eyes. "That hotel is like this baby, Hill. It's all I've got."

"No. It's not. You've also got someone who can help you, Anna. I've got enough money to privately fund the restoration of the hotel. No obligations. No strings. Just pay me back the way you would have paid back a bank loan. Because we share a son and I've got a vested interest in your success, I'll even offer you a two per cent interest rate. You'll be able to borrow more and get the hotel to the standard that you envision for it. Just put whatever payments you make into a joint account between us for our son. Together, we'll decide how to reinvest it so that he'll have a strong portfolio by the time he comes of age."

With watery eyes she looked at him closely, her lips tight from trying to conceal the pain ripping through her abdomen. "You've got this all figured out, don't you?"

He cupped her cheeks, brushing his thumbs over the dimples beside her mouth. "I've had an entire year thinking of nothing else but your happiness." Tears fell onto her cheeks and rolled to his thumbs. One at a time, Hill sipped away the beads.

"Why are you doing this?" Anna sobbed. "I may never love you, Hill. And I don't want to take advantage of your feelings."

"But I love you, Anna. You and our son are my family. That's enough for me. Understand that my feelings for you are unconditional. We're drawn to each other. I knew that before I knew about the baby. Just go on with your music career. Sign that contract with Barry. Rebuild your grandfather's hotel. Do whatever you want. But be happy. Do you. And I'll do me. And if doing me means I'll spend the rest of my life loving a lady whose heart is elusive, so be it. I've had months of practice already, and I've learned to live with it. Everything I have is yours for the asking, Anna. Free and clear of any conditions."

"Don't wait for me, Hill."

"I won't. I'll just stand at my finish line." He wanted to kiss her, but that wouldn't reassure her that he meant what he was saying. He might end up spending the rest of his life hoping she didn't choose to run in another direction, but that was his cross to bear. "Your contractions are coming closer. We should probably get to the hospital now before your water breaks."

"Too late," she whimpered.

ALEZANNA DELIVERS 'A NIGHT LIKE NO NIGHT HAS BEEN, OR WILL BE AGAIN'

By: Cassidy Sherriff

"Breakthrough Female Recording Artist of the Year Alezanna made music's biggest night a night to remember. We all know that the notoriously private singer is the daughter of the late great boxer Alex Dux - The General, and that she's been taking the music world by storm now for two years running. We also know that Anna recently cut the ribbon on the Dux Grande Luxury Hotel in San Francisco. What we didn't know was that she's been keeping a whopper of a secret all this time.

Last night, Anna brought the house down with a soulful rendition of the song that launched her to stardom, If You Go Away. She devoted her performance to her four year old son Halex, and his father banker Hilliard Griffin. Not a dry eye was in the room when she completed her performance. She was still backstage, her eyes streaming with tears, when the nominees for Breakthrough Female Vocalist of the Year were announced. Alezanna was a girl on fire as she moved across the stage in a Cat Diaz gown of flaming red and orange organza to accept the award.

After hastily reciting the names of a long list of people she credits with her success, and thanking her fans profusely for their support, the music had just started and they were about to bring out the hook and wrench her offstage when the world's favorite artist threw her public into tailspin. The stations had to cut for commercials, but they lost out because this was worth airing.

Listen for yourself to what Anna had to say at the end of her 'thank yous':

'People laugh and smile to conceal the fact that oftentimes we aren't truly happy. I've always heard that it is a rare thing to achieve self-actualization. Hill, you've been patient. You never pressured me, just loved me unconditionally and so completely that I was able to grow and achieve everything I ever dreamt of. All my needs have been met and exceeded, except one.

We are already a family, but I would like the privilege of loving you for the rest of my life. I would like to be your wife. I would like to meet you at our finish line. And I would like the world to know how much I truly, deeply, devotedly love you, because you are the best man in the whole world, and even the greatest award on Earth is nothing compared the certain knowledge that your love for me has proven itself time and time again to be the greatest gift I have ever received. Hill, will you marry me?'

"Oh! I get so choked up just listening to that. Can you imagine, that girl forgot about her makeup. It was like she forgot about the audience and that millions of people might be watching if the stations hadn't been foolish enough to cut to commercials. She got on her knees and proposed to him! Can you believe it? It would have been the most embarrassing thing if he'd turned her down, but the smart guy didn't. In fact, he picked up their son - I better mention here that the couple have denied being together for years now. He picked up their son and handed him to Alezanna's producer Barry Holmes - who was once married to the Griff's mother -, then jogged up the steps and knelt one rise lower than where Anna waited for him.

This couldn't have been a publicity stunt, and officials say they knew nothing about it, but Hill Griffin had come equipped with a ring. In an interview with the couple this morning on CVS News, Hill admitted he's been walking around with that ring in his pocket for six years now. All I know is that he knelt there like a modern-day knight in midnight blue armor and proposed to her. Grammy officials weren't on their game because none of them got out of their surprise quickly enough to offer the man a microphone. Only he and his bride know what was said on those steps as they accepted each other's proposals and exchanged rings.

The kiss was hot to say the least. There was no awkward fumbling, just a tender moment shared between a couple that had forgotten anyone else existed except each other. Well, I retract that. After the kiss, they called their son on-stage to share in the moment. His father lifted him into his arms and the couple rode off into the sunset, leaving behind a stunned audience. But the most poignant sight was that of music's biggest award sitting all alone on stage.

That was a marriage right? It couldn't have been an engagement, because they made their pledges before God and the entire world. But, I know Anna's public would never accept that as being enough. We're all looking forward to the wedding of the century as America's favorite female vocalist pledges her troth to Sir Griff.

Some people have been talking flak about how 'Alezanna snubbed the Grammys', and that she left it behind on the stage as if it had no value. Some are even speculating that this is the end of her career. But this reporter thinks that our Anna did not snub the Grammy. She simply reminded her fans that some things in life are more important than public opinion and career success. Please don't go away, Anna!

####

About the author:

Josephine Kent is single and a bit cynical, but, she's an ever hopeful, romantic. Having yet to meet Sir Lasting means that he could be anyone. He could be the neighbor's son who drops by his elderly father a few times a month. Or he could be a childhood friend now grown up. More likely he's one of the three gorgeous luxury yacht captains who rescued her and her 'borrowed' boat from drifting all the way to Cuba. Less likely, but certainly possible, he's that prosecuting attorn... Definitely unlikely. The cop who came and evacuated her stranded self from a wildfire? Nah. The widower who needed a stylist for his slightly pubescent nine year old daughter. At one point, she'd thought he was that tall, athletic stud at the grocery store who Josie climbed over bales of oranges and potatoes to discover wore basketball shorts, a sweet pair of tennis shoes, a stylish set of chrome and neon limbs, and the widest wedding ring she'd ever seen on a man or woman. He could be anyone. And while Josie's not necessarily hunting for Mr. Lifetime Worthy, she knows that the world is full of awesome guys, and is enjoying the view as she wonders just what he might really be like; and what type of woman could really love him.

The current loves of her life are water sports, writing, and six rentable kids called nephews. In her dreams she is a great mathematician, a budgeting diva, a do-it-yourself maven, and a bohemian fashionista. In reality, she's numerically dyslexic. She always ends up spending the money saved from budgeting. Her do-it-yourself fails are often epic. And she still hasn't mastered the art of mixing prints.

If you'd like to contact her, please do so at JosieKentWrites@gmail.com. She'd love to hear from you. Also, if it doesn't take up too much of your time, a review on this work would be very much appreciated.

