They had it all and each other until one of them walked away.
Rock star Quentin Nash walked out on the loves of his life five years before and regretted it instantly. Pride and fear have kept him away. But lost, lonely, and burned out, he's come back, and he's praying they can forgive that he tainted their love.
The music world was a hell on earth for Mel and Tasha Keane. They left while they still had their sanity. Now it's back on their doorstep in the form of the one man they'd lost their hearts to years before. There's always been a place for him with them, but can they help Quentin find his way without losing their own?
EXCERPT
Quentin Nash slowed his rental car at the top of the winding
palmed canyon. Peace had sifted into his blood on the drive up. He’d turned off
the air conditioning, rolled down the windows, and slowed his speed in order to
hear the two creeks that paralleled both sides of the road. Nature’s music.
Winter rains had filled the oasis above to overflowing and
blessed the landscape with water, spawning a profusion of wildflowers in this
desert canyon. Birdsong also reached him from the towering palm trees and dense
vegetation. If a person was lucky enough, they might also spy a bighorn sheep
in the area. Tourists crowded Palm Canyon Drive and every golf course, never
realizing true wonder was in the mountain canyons that shadowed Palm Springs.
He wanted to weep at the beauty of it. Or was it fear that
made him teary-eyed?
Quentin swallowed past the heavy lump in this throat as he
stared at the resort ahead. Diversions was off the beaten path. Only a small
sign off the main road pointed the way to it. If a person didn’t know to look,
they might not have noticed that. It was very exclusive. Their only
advertising, other than a website, an article the year before in Travel Temptations, and a hit song
Mesquite had in honor of the place, was a tri-fold brochure that promised to
indulge the visitor in every luxury and assured no request would be denied. He
knew from past experience the place was booked in advance. He’d also been told
there would always be room for him.
Those words, given five years ago, had woven around him
constantly since they’d first been uttered. At first, they were his safety net;
lately, they were his lifeline. Now…
He let the tears drift down his cheeks. Success was hollow
without Tasha and Mel. He had all the money in the world and had never felt
more lonely. Everyone wanted a piece of his body, his soul, his time. Managers,
agents, co-workers, and fans all took what they needed, and Quentin got little
to nothing in return…except for more money, more work, more demands. He was
Reno and everyone wanted him…now.
Tasha and Mel were the smart ones. They’d gotten out of the
business years ago. Phoenix and Diego, Tasha’s and Mel’s personas in the group
they’d called Three, had ceased to exist. They’d taken over the ownership of
Diversions from Tasha’s parents, married, had each other.
Quentin wondered if they’d missed him. If their invitation
to stay was always open as they’d promised. Did they still look the same—Tasha
with her waterfall of long, black hair; Mel with those ocean blue eyes that
made you want to dive in? Did they crave him in the night as he did them? Did
they curl into each other’s arms and miss the third body pressed to theirs? Had
they replaced him in their hearts and lives? He didn’t think he could bear
that, even though he’d tried that very thing over the last five years. Those
attempts had left him as empty as everything else in his life. If they’d found
another…if they rejected him…
He smeared the tears from his face. Sitting here staring at
the place wasn’t helping, and he knew he couldn’t turn around and leave. If for
no other reason, Quentin needed the peace Diversions offered. He needed to heal
his fractured soul.
Pulling in a deep breath, he put the car in motion. The
place reminded him of an old mission—white stucco, deep arches for windows and
doors, red tiled roof. There was even a bell tower at the far edge of the
red-cobblestone drive. The wide entrance circled around a statue of a couple
caught in a coital embrace. It was the first of many statues scattered throughout
the Eden-like grounds.
A valet greeted him with a smile and a wave the instant
Quentin’s car came into view. Quick on his heels was Charles, the head of
Butler Services at Diversions. The man was a constant that made Quentin smile.
It seemed the man never aged. He looked as tanned and fit as he had the first
time Quentin had seen him fifteen years before. Charles’s obsidian gaze
flickered with recognition. Quentin thought—hoped—they sparkled a little as
well.
The valet reached for the car door as soon as Quentin
stopped. Quentin offered him a smile he didn’t feel. “A moment, please. I don’t
exactly have a reservation.”
Charles stepped forward. “Indeed you do, Mr. Nash. A
standing reservation as per Mr. and Mrs. Keane’s instructions. There is always
a place for you here.”
More tears welled up. All Quentin could do was nod and
relinquish the car to the valet, while a bellman darted forward to retrieve his
luggage. Nothing in their actions gave away that they knew he was famed rock
star Reno. His real name had always afforded him some anonymity…until his face
was plastered all over television and magazines. Still, he’d gotten this far in
his trip without incident. Maybe Diversions was already working its magic.
Charles gave a slight bow. “This way, sir.”
Quentin followed without hesitation. Through the Spanish
tiled foyer lined with potted plants. Down the flagstone path that twisted
through the lush garden. Past more statues of lovers caught in orgasmic bliss.
And when they walked beyond the main conclave of suites, awareness of their
final destination nearly brought Quentin to his knees, sobbing.
How many times had he traveled this route with the two of
them, all wrapped in each others’ arms? How many times had they tangled
themselves in the sheets of the suite ahead, or bathed in the hot tub, soaped
each other to heaven in the huge shower? Fed one another in the cloud-soft pile
of cushions? Laughed, loved, planned a future that never came to be?
They’d once had a great love, unusual by most people’s
standards, but it worked well for them. Until he tainted it all with his greed
and lust for more of something they already had plenty of—fame and fortune.
The first sight of the stand-alone cabana stabbed a pain of
longing through Quentin’s heart. It looked as fresh as the first time he’d seen
it. The Jungle Hut…appropriately designed to look exactly like that on the
outside. It had always been their room.
The bellman trotted up the three steps to the deep-set porch
and opened the door. Did Tasha and Mel know he was here? If not, Charles would
let them know as soon as he saw Quentin settled.
He paused at the bottom step, staring into the dark interior
ahead. From the porch, Charles turned to look his way, his eyebrow lifted
ever-so-slightly in question.
“If you don’t mind, I’d rather go in alone,” Quentin somehow
managed to say.
“As you wish, sir.” The man stepped down to his level.
“Please let us know if there is anything you need.”
“Thank you.” Quentin barely heard the words over the emotion
strangling him.
Charles nodded and walked away. The bellman was seconds
behind, not even pausing so Quentin could tip him.
Heart pounding, he walked into the cabana and shut the door.
Ambient light filtered to him from the corners, like the sun coming into a
forest canyon. Deep greens and muted browns greeted him. Quentin closed his
eyes and leaned into the door. He didn’t have to look to know the big bed was
hidden behind a veil of faux vines and leaves. Or that the living area was a
sunken bed of cushions with the hot tub tucked into a jungle grotto niche just
beyond. A sliding glass door led to the private patio screened with bamboo. The
bathroom contained a shower/tub combination made for love.
He didn’t need to see to know it was all the same. He didn’t
need the reminder of the love he’d tossed aside. And yet he needed the
sanctuary it offered.
He fell to his knees and sobbed.
