One Night to Remember Read online

  Elizabeth didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know Lady Grace well enough to hold a lengthy conversation, and Elizabeth hadn’t lost the love of her life as she had. Not really, though she supposed with time Thomas could’ve moved up the ranks. He’d already seemed to have wrapped himself around her heart more fully than any other had before.

  As they watched the coast roll in, Elizabeth stayed with Lady Grace, holding her hand. They didn’t speak. They didn’t need to. The tragedy of their experience superseded words.

  It wasn’t until the Carpathia pulled into dock and the whistle blew that Elizabeth remembered what Lady Grace had said to her when she’d first sat down.

  “What did you mean when you said I lied to you twice?” Elizabeth asked finally, breaking their silence. “When I first came up to you, you said I’d lied to you.”

  “Mmm,” she said, pulling the blanket around her shoulders. “You lied about your reason for leaving the dining hall, my dear.”

  Hot flashes of embarrassment flooded Elizabeth’s cheeks. Lady Grace had known all along…Elizabeth hadn’t left their dining table because she felt ill. She left as an excuse to steal Lady Grace’s clutch.

  Elizabeth faced her completely, cupping both her hands in hers. “I’m so very sorry. Had I known—”

  “Oh, I knew you took it from the start, darling.”

  “You did?”

  She nodded. “If you are in such desperate need of an old woman’s money that you steal it behind her back over a fine dinner of minced lamb, you should have it. I’ve got more money than I know what to do with and look where that fortune has gotten me.” Her broken gaze drifted to the towering heights of the city. “I must start fresh in this place, just like you.”

  Elizabeth was struck speechless. Lady Grace had bestowed on the less fortunate, even if the less fortunate wore a first class gown of silk and rubies. She wondered if Lady Grace saw a little girl with the frizzy blonde ringlets when she looked upon her.

  They were all the same. Everyone was in need at some point in their life. It was only a matter of when. For Elizabeth, that time was now. She needed a friend…

  “Has The White Star Line secured you a room?” Elizabeth asked. “Or are you leaving New York right away?”

  “I’m staying for a bit, I think.” Lady Grace stood with elegance, her chin high despite the toll the night had taken on her. Seemed even a worn wool blanket could be made luxurious with the right woman wearing it. “Would you care to escort me, Miss Scott?”

  “It’d be my pleasure.”

  As they stood and made their way toward the bow, a man with a scruffy beard stepped in front of them, cutting them off. “Please excuse my eavesdropping, but you are Miss Scott?” His Spanish accent rang heavy.

  She’d never seen, or heard, this man in her life, she was certain of it. “Yes…”

  His seemed to collapse at the confirmation, his chest sinking, his shoulders drooping. “I must thank you.” His big brown eyes welled with tears. “You saved my life.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, wishing she was the Miss Scott he knew so she could consol him the way he needed. “You have me mistaken for somebody else.”

  “No, it is you. The other night…” he paused, skipping over the cruelest part. “I met your…your Thomas.”

  “Thomas?” His name came out as a squeal. “You were with him? Did he make it?”

  “I’m sorry, miss, but I cannot say. We were separated as the night wore on. Still, I feel I owe you my life. Thomas gave me his life vest. He said it was courtesy of you.”

  “I’ve done nothing,” Elizabeth droned, her heart slowing to a dull rhythm. “But I am glad you’ve made it safely, sir.”

  “You as well.” He bowed and made his way down the stairs leading to the bow.

  Why would Thomas have given his vest to a stranger? Did he not think he’d make it and gave it to save another? Elizabeth’s stomach clenched as Lady Grace squeezed her arm.

  “Come on, dear,” she said, “Let us disembark. I’m anxious to set my feet on solid ground.”

  “No,” Elizabeth shook her head, still fixated on Thomas’s last act of generosity. He was heroic. One of a kind. She could feel her core weakening, her knees beginning to tremble. “I think I need a minute. May I meet you on the pier?”

  “Of course.” With another light squeeze of her arm, Lady Grace made her way onto the crowded bow with the others.

  Elizabeth shuffled to the rail and leaned over the edge, gazing out to sea. Tears stung her eyes as she realized there was nowhere she could go to say goodbye. No gravesite that’d embrace Thomas’s body. No cement marker she could lean on when her knees gave out thinking of him. There was only the sea, murky blue and quiet, lapping against the hull of the ship.

  “Goodbye, Thomas.” She pinched her eyes shut. Though she’d only known him a single night, Elizabeth knew with utmost certainty she’d never forget Thomas for as long as she lived. “If only we’d had more time together…” who knows where their courtship might’ve led.

  There was a rustling of wind in her hair, the quiet thumping of footsteps and then, “Elizabeth,” from behind her.

  She spun around, heart in her throat. Everything faded away. Thomas wrapped her into his arms and held tight, squeezing her against him.

  He was here. He was alive. He was cold, his body shivering beneath a blanket that’d been tossed around his shoulders.

  “I never thought I’d see you again,” she said, and kissed his cheek, his nose. She caressed his shoulders, his back. “I searched every corner of this ship…you weren’t here.”

  “I was secluded in the infirmary.” He ghosted his hands over the hair framing her face. “They told me they’d find you and send word about my condition.”

  “They didn’t. I had no idea. I thought that…” It didn’t matter what she thought. She wrapped him up, blanket and all. “My God…are you all right?”

  “Nothing to worry about now. I had a mild case of hypothermia.” He nuzzled into her neck, breathing warm into her ear. “Everything is going to be fine.”

  Yes. It was. Part of her still couldn’t believe he’d made it. “You’re here.”

  “Where else would I be?” He pulled back and brushed his lips against hers, jumpstarting her heart all over again. “You made me promise to meet you when we docked.”

  “Yes,” she said. “I did.”

  “I’m not keen on breaking promises.” Thomas pressed Elizabeth against him as if he was trying to melt them together. It did not matter that there was a deck full of people watching. “I want to ask you so many things, Elizabeth. If you reached that ship on the horizon, when you turned back, but I don’t care about any of that. Not right now.”

  There were questions Elizabeth wanted to ask him too. How he’d survived the night and how she’d inspired him to give his life vest away. But before she could address any of them, Thomas kissed her more passionately than he ever had before.

  When he finally pulled back, Elizabeth gazed into the chocolate depths of his eyes and saw…love. “Right now, in this moment that I thought would never come, there is one question I want answered most.” He brought her hands to his lips and warmed them by brushing his over the top. “May I take you to dinner tonight?”

  Elizabeth smiled, the chill in her heart thawing faster than she could’ve dreamed. They’d get a new start. One where she wasn’t a thief and he wasn’t an officer. They’d be equals, starting off on the right foot.

  “Of course,” she said. “I’m free for dinner tomorrow night as well...and the night after that.”

  “You, Miss Scott, are the bold one.” He kissed her forehead and led her down the steps to the bow. “And I plan to cherish you as long as you’ll let me.”

  She nestled into his embrace. Of all the horrors they’d seen this night, of all the lives lost and the hearts broken, there was one tiny silver lining—the Titanic brought their two hearts together. Through the tragedy, they’d found love.

>   ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Kristin Miller has had a passion for all things Titanic since 1988, a full decade before Jack and Rose came on scene. Although she owns more than fifty books written about the Titanic, a copied set of the ship’s blueprints, a piece of coal from its busted boilers, and a postcard sent from the ship mid-voyage, her collection of 1912 first edition Titanic books holds a special place in her heart.

  She writes dark and gritty paranormal romance for HarperCollins (INTERVAMPTION VAMPED UP and VAMP APPEAL, August 2012), fantasy/paranormals for Harlequin (CLAIMED BY DESIRE, May 2012, and FORBIDDEN BY FATE, July 2012), and has dabbled in romantic suspense (DARK TIDE RISING).

  This book was the culmination of twenty-four years of research and countless dreams about writing a Titanic novel.

  For more about Kristin Miller and her latest work, please visit:

  http://www.kristinmiller.net

  http://pararomance.blogspot.com

  http://www.twitter.com/KM_Miller

  She loves hearing from readers! You can email her at [email protected]

  Cover designed by Megan Jordan at Hot Damn Designs

  Keep reading to preview

  NO ONE TO TRUST

  a romantic suspense novella by author Katie Reus

  No One to Trust

  Copyright © 2012 by Katie Reus

  Secrets are what keep a family strong. United. Elizabeth Martinez could still hear her father’s words echoing in the recesses of her memories. Over a decade had passed and not a day went by that she didn’t wish she could rewrite history. Some secrets had a way of eating a person alive. From the inside out, one giant bite at a time. Gnawing until she couldn’t stand it. If her father hadn’t forced them all to keep the family’s dirty little secret, maybe she’d be at home enjoying a nice glass of wine and a bubble bath. She wouldn’t be picking up her brother from a drug dealer’s house on a chilly Tuesday evening.

  Lizzy put her BMW into park and slid from the vehicle. This particular mansion in Keystone Island was the last place in the world she wanted to be. Unfortunately her brother had called begging for help. Again.

  Everyone else in the family had turned their back on Benny but she simply couldn’t say no when he needed her. Not when he’d always been there for her.

  While she wasn’t sure what Benny was doing at the recently deceased Alberto Salas’s home, she knew it couldn’t be good. Salas had been infamous for running drugs up and down the entire East Coast. She’d heard his son, Orlando, had taken over his operation. She’d briefly interacted with Orlando at a few charity functions around Miami and he’d always been perfectly polite, but the man gave her the creeps. There were some things an Armani suit simply couldn’t hide.

  Self-consciously, Lizzy tugged at her dress as if she could somehow make it grow a couple inches longer. The bright turquoise halter-style dress and black cardigan sweater she wore were completely respectable, but as she walked down the stone driveway toward the front door, she could feel several sets of eyes on her. Considering Orlando Salas was rumored to be in the same business his father had been, she guessed that even though she couldn’t see them, he had plenty of scary looking security guys milling around. They were nothing more than thugs in suits and ties. She worked for one of the best security firms in the nation and the guys she worked with—they sure weren’t thugs. No, they were highly trained, mostly ex-military, and didn’t deal with scum like Salas. They protected uber wealthy clients and government dignitaries and everyone they worked for got a detailed military level background check—courtesy of her computer skills—and if it appeared they were into anything like drugs, Red Stone Security didn’t take them on. With how much money their company made, they could afford to be picky.

  Before she could knock on the bright red door, it swung open and a man carrying an assault rifle looked her up and down.

  A cold chill slithered through her, mainly because of the look on his face, rather than the gun. She’d known the guards here would be armed, but yuck, this guy made her feel like she was naked. Clutching her purse tighter against her side—as if that could somehow save her—she started to tell him why she was there, but he beat her to it.

  With a lecherous grin on his face, he stepped back and allowed her to enter. “Your brother’s out back.” He pointed down the tile hallway. “Just follow until you reach the French doors.”

  Fighting back the growing panic humming through her, she nodded and did just as he said. Yeah, maybe she should have called her boss and told him what she was doing but she didn’t want to drag anyone she knew into Benny’s problems. Then everyone would know how messed up her family really was. It was too embarrassing. She’d take care of it just like she always had. Chin up, she ordered herself.

  As she neared the doors she could see her brother stretched out on an Adirondack chair. She yanked the door open and hurried to his still form. “Benny!”

  When he didn’t stir, an icy fist clasped around her heart. He looked like a corpse. His normally bronze face was a grayish color. She touched his wrist and a sharp burst of relief popped inside her. At least his pulse was strong. But his face…tears blurred her vision for a moment. A garish purple bruise covered his left cheek and one of his eyes was swollen almost all the way shut. A light trail of blood had trickled from his nostril and dried on his upper lip. Had they broke his nose? Her throat tightened with raw grief. He’d sounded bad on the phone but she hadn’t expected this. She wanted to touch him, comfort him somehow, but was afraid she’d only hurt him more.

  Her hand hovered over his pale face for a moment before she settled on brushing a lock of his dark hair away from his forehead. “What have you gotten yourself into,” she whispered.

  “He’s going to be out for a little while.” She swiveled around at a familiar male voice and let her hand drop.

  Monster. The word echoed inside her but she bit it back. “Mr. Salas.” She tried to keep the disdain out of her voice as she faced the man who’d likely beaten her brother. Or at least watched while one of his men had. Somehow she managed to blink back the tears threatening to spill over.

  “Please call me Orlando. You’re a very good sister to pick your brother up so quickly.” Standing about ten feet away from her, he leaned against the mini-bar with a glass tumbler in hand.

  She narrowed her gaze. Anger battled with the fear blossoming inside her but she was still level-headed enough not to cower in front of him. A man like this probably craved the fear of others. “Did you do this to him?”

  His shoulders lifted in a slight shrug. “Not personally. Benito owes me quite a bit of money and I intend to collect.”

  “How much?”

  “A hundred thousand.”

  Lizzy swallowed but tried to school her shock. Benny had had problems with drugs in the past but he’d been clean for a while. Unfortunately, he’d found a new drug of choice. Gambling. If she had to guess, he owed Orlando the money because of bad bets. Or maybe he was back into drugs. She just didn’t know. And she hated what her brother did to himself. He had such a good heart but he couldn’t seem to keep it together.

  Her parents had the money. She definitely didn’t. And it was unlikely her parents would fork over that kind of cash for the black sheep of the family. Unless she could convince them it was for her. Despite the terror splintering through her, she stood her ground. “So you tried to beat the money out of him?”

  His dark gaze seemed to penetrate right through to her innermost thoughts. “He’s lucky he’s not dead. Out of respect for your family, I’m giving him one week to pay me back.”

  “And if he doesn’t?” She hated that the question came out shaky, but she couldn’t help it. She was scared, even if she tried to hide it.

  “I sincerely hope he has a life insurance policy.” He placed his glass on the bar and covered the short distance between them in seconds. Before she could react, he’d pressed her against one of the columns lining the outer edges of the lanai. His breath was hot on her
cheek and his expensive cologne nearly smothered her as fear clawed at her insides. “I might be willing to bargain, however, Ms. Martinez. You are a beautiful woman. Six months as mine, and I’ll let your brother off.” His hips jerked forward and she pushed back the bile in her throat when she felt his erection against her hip.

  Instinct overtook her fear as she shoved at his chest. “You’re disgusting.”

  He was immovable. Grabbing her wrist, he pinned it above her head. When she swung out at him with her other hand, he snapped it up with the same precision. She tried to tug against him, but the man’s grip was like an iron shackle. Cold sweat blossomed across her forehead and spread the length of her body. She hadn’t told anyone where she was going, and Orlando Salas was total scum. If he raped her, he wouldn’t let her live to tell anyone. No, he’d likely dump her in the ocean. She racked her brain, trying to think of a way out of her situation when a loud shout and glass breaking inside caused him to let her go. But not before he backhanded her across the face and growled, “Stay here.”

  The abrupt action surprised her more than it hurt. A dull throb spread across her cheek, but it was nothing compared to what would happen to her if she didn’t get out of there. As he started to reach for a gun tucked in the back of his pants, the double doors flew open and the last person she expected to see stormed through, with a SIG in hand.

  And it was pointed directly at Orlando.

  “Are you okay, Elizabeth?” Porter Caldwell, her unlikely savior, asked in his typical clipped tone.

  “I’m fine.” At the moment, all that mattered was getting out of there alive. She wasn’t exactly sure what Porter was doing there or even how he’d gotten past Orlando’s guards. She wasn’t going to balk at a chance to escape, even if her rescuer was her sort-of-ex/almost-lover. Even though they’d dated for a month and gotten pretty physical, they’d never actually had sex so she didn’t think that qualified him as an old lover.