When the Heart Lies

Dedicated to my children

Tanner and James

Special thanks to

My cousin, Linda McCann,

who listened to my doubts and helped me work through them

and in memory of

A very special teacher who encouraged me to become a writer

Mr. Joseph
Peppone

The biggest secrets have a habit of catching up with you…

Romance novelist Kinsley Wentworth has a knack for approaching life as if she was a character in one of her novels. Kinsley is desperately in need of love, the one thing missing from her marriage.

Bad decisions can have terrifying consequences…

After a failed attempt at reconciliation with her estranged husband Nick, Kinsley meets Wayde online, he’s allegedly searching for her missing brother, and they develop a friendship. Wayde convinces Kinsley that he will help her find her estranged brother if she moves to Florida with her young son, but Kinsley soon finds herself trapped in an abusive and potentially life-threatening situation.

A knight in shining armor…

Unknown to Kinsley, she is not totally alone; she has a protector. Jackson, a private investigator hired to watch over her and her son, is always close at hand. A little too close, Jackson is falling for a woman in a hopeless situation.

A fairytale happily ever after?
 

Kinsley is convinced she can forgo her own need for love to provide her son with a traditional family. But Jackson is determined to give Kinsley the space and time she needs, confident she will figure out that he is the reality she has been looking for all along.

All characters, places, and incidents appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or events is purely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from the author.

Chapter 1

Pasties—. God damn pasties. Savannah wore a G-string, too, but the six-inch, glimmering, aluminum tassels covering Savannah’s nipples were what Kinsley fixated on. They were spinning in her
three year-old, Max’s, face as he giggled and pointed. 

She reached for Max …

Her quick movements made her lose her balance. Florida’s late summer heat wave turned the box-like house into an Easy Bake Oven, and her empty stomach made her light headed. Throw in her toddler attending his first peep show? She fainted.

It was close to midnight when Kinsley Wentworth arrived at Lakeside Wellness Center. The thunderstorm raging outside and the heavy drapes covering the windows kept the private room cozy and dark. The medication the doctor prescribed to calm her anxiety kicked in around two. But it didn’t help much. Still restless, her mind darted back to the previous night. In no time, her heart beat fast, and her pulse drummed through her head. The blood rush to her brain left her body shivering.

She burrowed deeper under her covers and punched her pillow more than necessary, fattening it up. It didn’t comfort her, and she continued to wrestle sleeplessness until Wayde’s unmistakable throaty voice and full-knuckle assault on the door filled the room. She hurried out of bed as he entered and stood guarded.

“Now, Kinsley. Just stay calm.”

“Stay calm?” Her hands landed on her hips, and she couldn’t keep her lip from twitching on the snarled side no matter how hard she grit her teeth. “I’m in a hospital because of your tramp niece, Savannah. An anxiety attack, for the love of God. Is Max alone with her now?” 

“What if he is?”

She scoffed. “You’re unbelievable.” Her eyes shifted from his and then back again. Once I’m discharged, we’re leaving Florida and getting away from you.”

“Relax. He’s fine. Ya got nothin’ to bitch about. This place is more hotel than hospital.” He reached for her, and she backed away.

“Oh, no, you don’t. Stay the hell away from me.”

His mouth bunched with resentment, and he lunged toward her. She stumbled backward, settling abruptly on the edge of the bed. Her arms and legs backpedaled fast as she scooted on her ass, putting distance between them. He swooped down, snatched her feet with a yank, and laid her out swiftly. His sloppy, middle-aged body crash-landed on top of her, and his eyes fell dead even with hers. Instinctively, her mouth opened to scream, but his heavy, calloused hand covered it crudely. When she struggled to get away, he trapped her face beneath his own. His wiry, grey stubble scratched the soft, pale skin of her cheek as she squirmed.

“Always resisting me. You like the struggle—doncha?”

A gust of pungent breath smelling of cigarettes and coffee nauseated her. She fought to let herself free, but it was no use. Double her size, he rendered her motionless. She closed her eyes and let her body fall slack beneath him. The pressure of his hand on her mouth lessened, but she stayed still, realizing that if she screamed, hurting Max might not be beyond him.

“That’s right. Settle down now,” he said in a hushed voice as his free hand began petting her long dark hair at the temple. “You’re not gonna holler if I take my hand off your pretty little mouth, are ya, darlin’?”

Tears sneaked from beneath the corners of her closed eyes, rolling down and wetting her hair. She sniffled, attempting to suck back the moisture seeping from her nose and tickling her lip. Slowly, his hand slid away from her mouth and cradled her head close to his. He breathed a nasal sigh, and the moist, hot stream of his exhale blew into her ear. She fought to keep her body from cringing in disgust and angering him further.

In a ghost-like whisper, she said, “We’re going back to New York.” Even as the words slipped from her mouth, she knew they shouldn’t have.

His anger intensified, and he vaulted from the bed, releasing her small frame fast. She rebounded with an unexpected jolt. Stunned, she stayed put
.

When he took a step toward her and his hand rose, she flinched, but he didn’t strike her. He simply shook his ramrod-straight finger at her as he hovered. 

“I’m here as a reminder. If you’re worried about Max, get back home. You ain’t going nowhere, and even if I let ya, where would you go? Your playboy husband’s finished with you. And don’t forget …” His two fingers spread, and he lifted them to his eyes. Aiming, he drew them forward, targeting hers.

She didn’t react. Intimidation was his usual way of communicating. Wayde never out-and-out said he’d hurt Max, but the implication was always clear. “Keep me happy, and Max will be fine.”

He turned to leave and glanced back when he reached the door. “I reckon I’ll bring Max tonight. Seein’ him’ll remind you to keep your mouth shut, and do as I say.” He chuckled and walked away. “Love ya—darlin’.”

The teasing singsong goodbye annoyed her.

Once the clatter of his footsteps faded into the distance, her tense body lay back, surrendering to the softness of the bed. The adrenaline that had overcome her vanished, allowing her thoughts to drift back five months prior. She had met Wayde online. He said he was searching for her brother, Drew, wanting to catch up with him and inadvertently found her. He was Drew’s Sergeant. He lured her with his charm and the promise to help find Drew who went missing after returning home from Afghanistan. They forged a friendship, and three months later, despite the fact she was still legally married to her estranged husband, Nick, she moved to Florida, hoping for a better future for her and her son. Shortly after moving in with Wayde, she realized he wasn’t anyone she should’ve gotten involved with. Every word he said was a fabrication. It didn’t take long for her to both hate and fear him.

Just as she was about to drag herself from the bed, the door opened, and a nurse with a clipboard peeked in.

“Need to get your vitals.” 

Kinsley sat up on the side of the bed and nodded her in. The nurse wasted no time as she popped a plastic sheathed, electronic thermometer into her mouth and wrapped a blood pressure cuff around her upper arm. The cuff expanded, squeezing until her arm was numb and tingling as if tiny pins danced beneath her skin.

The nurse looked at the numbers on the blood pressure machine. “Perfect. Seems the medication and fluids the doctor ordered were just what you needed. Still, we’ll be keeping an eye on you.” The nurse shook her head, chastising her. “You should’ve let us leave the IV in. Breakfast is in a half-hour, and you have an appointment with Dr. Pierce at ten. Someone will be in later to check on you. Let me know if you need anything.” Not waiting for a response, she turned and walked away, letting the door swing shut behind her.

Within minutes, Kinsley’s stomach growled with nauseating emptiness. Eating sounded like a good idea. She got up to open the closet door and looked around. The room, she was sure, cost a small fortune. Decorated in pale greens, with white wicker furniture, plush floral carpet, and fresh-cut flowers on the dressing table, it was peaceful. Unlike the ramshackle house that Wayde lived in. It left her longing for the safety and comfort of her home in New York. Regardless, emotions couldn’t rule her fate. She reminded herself to be positive and pushed the thought away. Today, she needed to convince the doctor that she felt fine. She had never experienced fainting or an anxiety attack, and her blood pressure had always been within normal range. She was a healthy twenty-eight year-old woman. Surely, he’d see that.

Another goal would be to make a phone call. If she contacted her husband, Nick, in New York, they would work something out, and she’d be certain Max was safe. Life with Nick was often unhappy—and lonely. After almost seven years of marriage, she eventually gave up. Still, having to face that she shut him and everyone else out to go live with Wayde wasn’t easy. Having to admit she’d been so reckless to put herself and her child at risk tormented her. The safest place for Max would be with Nick, at least for now. His grandmother, Angela, would help; she loved Max, and him staying with them a few days would be fine. Although Kinsley’s feelings for Nick paled in comparison to what they once were, she needed him. Her son deserved a normal life, and she was going to make sure he lived one. If Nick would have her, she would do what whatever was necessary to make things right.

~ ~ ~

The pool and patio of the Wentworth Estate in Sterling Shore, New York rivaled the best hotels. Luxury was a given. That, and influence. Each paired well with the Wentworth name.

Refreshed from his morning swim, Xavier Wentworth shook the water from his thick wavy hair and ran his fingers through it, creating a tousled, sexy style. Prematurely greyed by thirty, his hair was nearly white at fifty-two. He was strikingly handsome, and his smooth skin had just enough wrinkles to appear distinguished.

With impeccable timing, as always, his personal assistant handed him a plush terrycloth robe and a towel. “Your robe, Mr. Wentworth.”

“Thank you, Jonathan.”

After drying his tall, toned body, he tossed the towel aside, slipped into his robe, and settled into the chair in front of his usual place setting. Reading his morning paper by the poolside with a steaming cup of coffee was his favorite ritual of the day. Other than this reprieve, he rarely had a minute to himself. Although family money had passed down, his keen skill with international investments, predominantly in the Netherlands, had tripled his wealth.

As Jonathan was about to return to the house, Xavier pulled away from his steaming black coffee and motioned with a raised hand, getting his attention. “Jonathan, would you get Olivia on the phone for me please?”