Falling for Him 10: Karen and Robert, Book 2 Read online

  Falling for Him

  Karen and Robert

  Book 2

  (Book 10 in the Falling for Him Series)

  Jessica Gray

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, and places in this book exist only within the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons or locations is purely coincidental.

  Falling For Him, Karen and Robert, Book 2

  (Book 10 in the Falling for Him Series)

  All Rights Reserved

  Copyright © 2016 Jessica Gray

  This book is copyrighted and protected by copyright laws.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without prior written permission from the author.

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

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  Chapter 1

  Karen reached up to adjust the platinum blonde wig she’d worn for the occasion. Along with the blonde wig, she’d put on more make-up than she was comfortable with and wore horn-rimmed sunglasses, black stretch leggings, and a jeans jacket over the tight pink V-neck shirt.

  Pink! She hated pink. It made her face look greenish-pale and clashed with her creamy caramel hair. But today she was in disguise. A rather stupid disguise for an even more stupid endeavor.

  Rachel, good friend that she was, had tried to talk her out of her plans, but when Karen wouldn’t listen, she’d at least made sure Karen looked the part. As much as Karen normally hated pink, she had to admit it worked well with the platinum blonde hair and the heavy make-up. She looked stunning and nothing like herself.

  So, here she sat, in a table near the back of the restaurant, ignoring the appraising looks of the single men in the establishment. Their unwanted attention only served to make her more nervous and she lowered her head to study intensely the menu.

  After her boyfriend Robert had told her two days ago he’d meet his hopefully soon-to-be ex-wife in Los Angeles, she’d been agonizing over the two of them meeting. She hadn’t been able to contain her jealousy and needed to lay eyes on his wife. Marcela.

  Now that she’d hopped onto a plane this morning and was actually sitting in a restaurant in LA, her nerves were running wild. The menu in her hand trembled like an aspen leaf and she feared spilling her soda if she tried to raise the glass to her mouth.

  To calm her nerves she imagined Marcela as a homely, dour-faced woman with at least one hundred pounds too much on her hips. Nothing to be afraid of, right?

  What had seemed like a brilliant idea last night felt more like a stupid charade in the bright light of the day. That thriller you’ve been translating is getting to you. In the book, of course, the heroine wasn’t a translator spying on her businessman boyfriend and the nurse he was secretly married to. No, she was a trained undercover agent spying on a drug dealer and the corrupt high-ranking politician he was blackmailing.

  This is ridiculous, Karen. You should have never come here. Coming to her senses, she gathered her purse and was getting ready to leave when Robert entered the restaurant. She ducked her head, afraid he might recognize her despite the disguise, and observed him on his way to a table on the opposite side of the restaurant from where she was sitting. His stride was slow and hesitant, and a small sense of relief relaxed her frayed nerves. At least he was nervous, too.

  He sat down with his side to her, giving her a clear view of the empty chair opposite to him. All thoughts of leaving had disappeared, and she stared at Robert. Anger about his actions flared up. He was the reason she was here, making a fool out of herself.

  How could he have betrayed her trust with such a big lie? Three years. And during the entire time he’d been secretly married to that woman. They both should burn in hell for what they did. Yes, that would serve them right.

  Moments later a petite woman passed by Karen’s table and left a trace of a floral-fruity perfume with notes of orange and red currant in the air. Karen raised her head and mentally groaned when the woman took a course to Robert’s table.

  Oh my god. This can’t be Marcela. The woman was absolutely gorgeous. And apparently Karen wasn’t the only one to think that way, because as Marcela walked through the room, every male eye followed the movement of her swaying hips. It was as if music was playing and they were keeping time.

  Her long shining black hair swung with every step and she wore simple tight jeans with a vibrant red short-sleeved shirt. The rounded décolleté showcased her breasts and even Karen had to admit they were perfect. Though the other woman was petite, she had the full curves only Latinas could truly pull off.

  Robert stood up to greet Marcela and Karen’s heart missed a beat when she noticed how her boyfriend let his eyes travel over the woman – who had once been his lover – and was clearly impressed by her appearance. His appreciative gaze kindled Karen’s rage. When Marcela turned to kiss him on the cheek, Karen saw her expressive and shining brown eyes.

  Karen had to hold onto the table to prevent herself from jumping up and tearing Marcel’s eyes out. Or stabbing Robert with a steak knife. Or possibly both.

  How dare he! How dare she! This woman has stolen my boyfriend. She’s a relationship wrecker.

  Karen almost had to laugh out loud at how ridiculous her mental dialogue sounded. Marcela was Robert’s wife, therefore she wasn’t stealing anything that she didn’t already own. Suddenly her throat was dry as dust and she lifted her glass to her lips, barely managing without spilling it, because her hands were trembling.

  Her pulse raced and she broke out in a cold sweat, this entire scene was so far out of her comfort zone, but for the life of her she couldn’t end it by simply getting up on her feet and walking away. She was glued to her chair, soaking up every sound or gesture she could catch.

  The fact that she could see them talking, but not hear what they were discussing, served to mortify her even more. Damn it. I can’t hear anything. I should have insisted on being seated in a more central location.

  What if they reconciled? Shit, shit, shit. She just hated the way those two were looking at one another. Karen sat back, watching the interaction between the man she loved and the woman he was married to but hadn’t seen in over four years.

  She knew she needed to look away in order to protect herself, but found her willpower was missing where Robert was concerned. Watching them cut like a knife. And when the sound of Marcela’s laughter floated across the room, Karen wanted to die. Right there. On the spot. A growing discomfort settled in her chest and breathing became increasingly more difficult. No way this was happening.

  Karen had been the one to insist he find his long-lost wife and gain a divorce decree, but never in a million years had she envisioned this scenario. Not one where Robert was happy to see Marcela. Nor vice versa. She closed her eyes, trying to block out the happy sound, praying this meeting wouldn’t last much longer. After all, she could only stand so much.

  Chapter 2

  Robert saw Marcela walk into the restaurant and swallowed hard. She was even more beautiful than he remembered he
r. When he noticed all of the other men in the restaurant ogling her while she walked towards him, he felt a spurt of jealousy that caught him by surprise.

  Where did that come from? He convinced himself it was simply because she was still legally his wife and he had a strong desire to protect her. He didn’t have feelings for her. Never had. Their marriage had been a lie, based on his wanting to help her.

  Marcela seemed thrilled to see him again. She flashed him a bright smile and when he stood up to greet her, she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. And he liked it. Perhaps too much.

  “It’s good to see you again,” he said, pulling her chair out for her.

  “You too.” Her hands fidgeted with her purse, opening and closing the button with a metallic sound over and over again.

  “What would you like to drink?” The waitress had come up to them to take their orders.

  As soon as the waitress had disappeared, Marcela started talking…and talking…and talking. He wanted to touch her hand to take some of the nervousness away, but that would be inappropriate. He’d come here to ask for a divorce, not to rekindle their intimacy.

  Unfortunately the woman sitting opposite to him was intensely sweet and sexy all at the same time – a mixture of sweet and caring girl with her obvious need for protection and the sexy body that had drawn him to her almost five years ago when he’d met her in a bar in Las Vegas.

  In the last five years, she’d grown from a scared girl to a woman and she’d become even more beautiful because of it. In Las Vegas, she’d screamed “helpless damsel in distress” to him, and his fierce protective side – combined with enough alcohol – had caused him to suggest the not-so-brilliant idea of marrying her after one night of bliss.

  Shame rolled over him as he thought back to how stupid he’d been. Shame that transformed into guilt when he remembered lying to Karen for three long years because he hadn’t been man enough to tell her the truth. But to his utter confusion the guilt was washed over by hurt, then rage. Rage at Karen for not needing him enough.

  Pulling his thoughts back to the present, he looked at Marcela and realized nothing had really changed over the last four years. She was still the pretty girl radiating the need for a protector. Which was exactly what he’d responded to back then. His first impulse had been to protect her, and even now, he found himself wanting to do everything in his power to keep her safe.

  He interrupted her nervous chatter with a question: “I heard you’re a nurse?”

  “I finished nursing school last year.” A proud smile crossed her face. “Since then I’m working as a registered nurse in the La Selva hospital around the corner.”

  “Do you like your work?” he asked.

  A shine entered Marcela’s eyes and her nerves finally faded away. “I love it. That’s what I’ve always dreamt about. I like to help the people when they’re most vulnerable; it makes me feel…strong.” She became silent, as if the heavy burden of her tough teenage years suddenly weighed her down. “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “I’m the CIO of a tech company.”

  “CIO?” She crinkled her forehead and Robert had to laugh. Two worlds clashing.

  “Chief Information Officer. I run the IT department of a company in Silicon Valley. My job is to make sure all the computer-related stuff in our company works and we have the right tools to develop new products.”

  “Oh.” She thought for a moment.

  “I’m sure the hospital has an IT department as well.”

  Marcela nodded and said, “Yes. We hate them. Maybe not as much as the accounting department. Whenever we want new equipment like an MRI or those sleek diagnostic computers they first have to evaluate if it fits the hospital strategy. And once they do, a month later the accounting department says we have no money.”

  Robert chuckled. “That’s a good description of my work.”

  “How did you find me?” she asked.

  “I hired a private investigator to track you down.”

  “Why now?” she asked, biting her lower lip.

  He cleared his throat. This was the hard part he’d been replaying in his mind over and over, but still didn’t know how to say best. “Marcela, I…um…I’ve fallen in love. And, you know, I want to marry her. And I came here, because…I need a divorce from you.”

  Marcel looked at him for a full three seconds and then burst into silent tears, gripping his arm tightly. “Please, Robert. You cannot ask this of me. I will lose my green card if we divorce.”

  Discomfort settled in Robert’s stomach in the face of her tears. He felt like everyone in the restaurant was staring at him, waiting for him to crush Marcela’s hopes and dreams. In an impulse he raised his had to scan the room, and found that no one was actually looking at them, save for the blonde with large horn-rimmed sunglasses sitting on the other side of the restaurant. There’s something awfully familiar about that woman.

  Before he could go down that mental path, Marcela tugged on his arm. “Do you really want me to return to my life of misery in Mexico? I don’t even have anyone left there. No family or friends. No place to live. I’d be out on the streets. Is that what you want?”

  “Marcela, of course not. But you have to understand me as well.” He paused. How could he live with the guilt sendoff sending her back to a life on the streets and the possibility of her abusive and vengeful uncle finding her? Was his happiness more important than her physical safety? “We’ll figure something out. I promise. There’s got to be a way you can stay in the country and we can still get divorced. We just have to put our heads together and find it.”

  Her beeper went off and she immediately pulled herself together. “I have to go back to work.”

  “I thought you were off today?” he asked, wondering if the private investigator had gotten it wrong.

  “I am, but I’m on call. They’re short-staffed.”

  “How long will you be?” he asked, the unsolved situation between them pressing heavy onto his shoulders.

  “A couple hours. Perhaps two or three.”

  Robert frowned. “Why don’t we have dinner tonight? I’ll go check into my hotel in the meantime.”

  “Okay. That should work. How about 6 o’clock this evening?” Marcela suggested.

  “Perfect. Come on, I’ll walk you across the street.”

  Robert paid and escorted her to the doors of the hospital, keeping a protective hand on her elbow as they crossed the busy street. He stopped at the steps of the hospital, unsure how to say good-bye. Thankfully Marcela was in a rush to get inside and ran off, waving in his direction. “I’ll see you in a few hours. Text me where.”

  He waited until she disappeared inside and then walked two blocks away to the hotel where he planned to stay until this situation was resolved. He wasn’t leaving Los Angeles until he could give Karen some good news.

  Chapter 3

  Karen blinked twice, but her vision was still dizzy. Sounds of hushed whispers reached her ears and she felt strangely displaced. A person was leaning over her, and she blinked again as she tried to piece together what had happened.

  “Ma’am, can you hear me?”

  She nodded slowly, a dull ache in her head preventing any rushed movement.

  “Good. Can you tell me your name?”

  My name? “I…my…name…”

  “Do you know where you are?”

  Her mouth was dried up and no words came out. But then, what did would she tell him? Of course I know where I am. I am in … hell, yes, where am I? And why is this person asking me so many questions?

  Karen made as if to get up, but the man in the uniform gently held her down, “Do you know what happened?”

  Images flashed through her fried brain. Robert escorting a beautiful black-haired woman from a restaurant…Los Angeles…La Trattoria. He left. With Marcela.

  Agitation hit her with the fractured images and her breathing sped up. The dizziness increased and her mind whirled as if it was stuck in a blender.

>   A deep and calming male voice reached her brain. “Ma’am, please calm down. Someone already called 911.” Then the siren of an emergency vehicle filled her ears, the shrill sound threatening to splinter her head into a thousand pieces.

  “I want to get up,” she said to the man, grateful when he removed his hand and helped her sit up. Two paramedics entered the restaurant and Karen tried to calm her racing heart. Are they here because of me?

  “What happened here?” the female paramedic asked.

  “This woman was sitting at the table next to mine and she got up to leave, but then she started sobbing and just collapsed to the ground. I think she passed out, but she won’t answer any of my questions.”

  “Thanks. I’ll take over.” The female medic squatted down. “Hey, can you tell me your name?”

  “Karen.” At least Karen now remembered her name, and more and more fragments of the earlier happenings appeared in her mind.

  “Hi, Karen. I’m Shelby and I’m going to check you out. Do you remember why you were crying?”

  Karen shook her head. It was too embarrassing. Shelby checked her out and together with another paramedic loaded her onto a gurney while Karen let things passively happen to her as if she was a puppet on a string.

  Her brain, though, worked overtime and she replayed the earlier scene in the restaurant. Robert had left together with Marcela, his hand on her elbow and the other oneresting on her lower back – the action so similar to how he’d always protected and guided Karen. Jealousy had transformed into anxiety and Karen had intended to go after them. But she suddenly hadn’t been able to breathe, which caused her panic to increase tenfold.

  She had gasped for air like a fish out of the water, and her feet had frozen to the spot as she watched Robert disappear from her view, her heart racing, dark spots dancing before her eyes. A rushing noise had filled her ears, the overhead lights dimming, and next thing she remembered was a man leaning over her.