Beautifully Unbroken

  Beautifully Unbroken

  D. M. Brittle

  Copyright © Beautifully Unbroken

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted by U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior permission of the author.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, establishments, or organizations, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously to give a sense of authenticity. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2014- Author DM Brittle

  All Rights Reserved

  Dedication

  For my Dad, I wish that you were here to see this.

  1

  I felt nervous as I boarded the plane to New York to begin the new chapter in my life just over a year ago. Moving my life to New York was always going to be the biggest decision in both my life and my career, but making that decision had been easy. I needed out, I needed new, I needed unfamiliar, a place where for now no one would know me, no one would care. I wouldn’t be followed or harassed and would be free to eat where I wanted, shop where I wanted, and do what I wanted without it being headline news. New York was going to be that place, and despite the nerves, I couldn’t wait.

  Aside from my parents, whom I loved deeply, there was nothing in London that could convince me to stay. Work had been steady for the past couple of years, and I was slowly becoming stuck in a rut. I didn’t go out any more, unless it was for work. I needed a new start, a new chapter, a new life.

  My parents had helped me get through the hardest time of my life, so when the opportunity arose for me to build a fresh life in New York, they were adamant that I should take it.

  Michael was my ex; my dad had wanted to kill him on numerous occasions. He would show me with his hands exactly how he would strangle the man until he took his last breath. I loved my dad so much; he was my rock. I would miss him so much, but as he told me time and time again, I was only a seven-hour flight away, that was all. I’m not sure it was me he was trying to convince, though, and not himself.

  I had dated Michael for twelve months before my life changed.

  Michael Robinson took away any trust I had ever had in men. He ripped my heart right out of my chest and stamped on it until it was beyond repair. The man who promised me the world had given me only hell. At twenty-one I thought I loved him; I was besotted yet failed to see the real Michael, the man behind the mask who would destroy me and take away any faith I ever had in love and in happiness.

  Michael was very talented footballer playing for one of London’s top clubs; I was a TV and film actress. Together we were a paparazzi dream, especially when things weren’t going well; the media, of course, loved that. The man who I thought loved me and would do anything for me turned out to be a horny, fame-hungry vile specimen of a man whose treatment of me would steer me clear of loving another man for the rest of my life.

  Then into my life walked Blake Mackenzie.

  I had spent my four years since leaving Michael building a perimeter around myself, keeping out any man who ever thought he had a chance. No man would ever be allowed to break down the barrier and let me fall helplessly in love with him before he then decided it wasn’t what he really wanted and threw me head first into the lion’s den. No way.

  But there was something about Blake. He had the ability to break me down. He already had; I had fallen hook, line, and complete sinker in love with him and no matter how hard I tried, there would be no escape. I would close my eyes, he would be there; I would dream … only about him; I would open my eyes, and my first thought would be to wonder what he was doing. I read once that the first person who is on your mind the moment you open your eyes after a long sleep is the reason for either your happiness or your pain. Blake was my reason for both.

  I had built up a strong belief that with happiness came pain. There was always a price to pay for being happy. I was yet to have this theory proved wrong, and I doubted that I ever would.

  Blake and I had been working together on a new romantic comedy for the past six months; filming had finished only nine days prior. I missed him already – which was ridiculous, but I did – so much so that I had gone out of my way to see him a couple of times.

  I had it bad, and I tried to resist; I really did. But with Blake that was impossible.

  I hadn’t told Blake about my feelings for him. I couldn’t tell him for fear of what would happen. My being an actress came in very useful, yet I’m not one hundred per cent convinced he didn’t see behind it all. There were times with Blake when I sensed that not only did he see how I felt but also that he felt it too. Maybe I just wanted to believe that he liked me, and maybe just imagining it would be for the best. After all, I had issues. I couldn’t trust that everything that happened to me four years before wouldn’t happen again, and if it did, what then? Move to another country to escape?

  But the more I thought about Blake, the more I wanted him. I wanted the image I had every night while I was sleeping to become reality and not fantasy. I wanted his hands all over my body. I wanted to taste him, to be tasted by him. I wanted him above me, inside me. I wanted every single part of him, but I wasn’t sure that I could handle it.

  Damn you, Michael Robinson and your playboy lifestyle, for making me this way. I wish I’d hated you this much when we first met, instead of falling for your charm. In fact, I wish we had never laid eyes on each other in the first place. My life would have been so much easier that way.

  Casey is my roommate. I didn’t know Casey before I moved to New York, however sharing my new agent had put us in contact. She was rattling around in an apartment which looked out over Central Park West. It was the perfect escape for me.

  Casey and I hit it off immediately. She too had left her family for a new life in New York, albeit her family was still here in the US; but they were in Florida, so the two of us would prove to be good for each other.

  One of the things I loved most about Casey was that she dated Blake’s best friend, Alex. It was as if fate had intervened and Blake and I were destined to keep bumping into each other.

  When Casey arrived in New York, she was alone. She had no idea of where to go or whom to contact. While drinking in one of Alex’s many bars one night, she and Alex had got to chatting, one thing led to another, and they became inseparable. Alex then introduced Casey to Blake, who Casey said took her under his wing and helped kick her career off. She said that fate took her to that bar that evening; I wonder if fate brought me to New York?

  That night, we were all going to be attending a party to celebrate the end of filming. I had been waiting eagerly for this party for the past nine days. Just to see him; to be near him; to hear his voice – his deep, raspy, sexy voice; to look into those piercing blue eyes that glistened like diamonds against the sun; and to see his smile – his perfect, dazzling smile. My heart rate increased at the thought of it all. I wanted him so badly, yet I knew I was probably going to end up broken again – broken and alone. Yet something inside me was pushing me closer and closer to him, and I was willingly going, whether I wanted to or not.

  My mind wandered back to the last time I saw him, two days before.

  I stumbled into my apartment overloaded with shopping. Just as I made it into the kitchen, one bag slipped and crashed
to the floor.

  “Shit!” I cursed as I watched everything head off in different directions.

  “Here, let me help you,” he said with a hint of amusement, obviously laughing at my lack of coordination while carrying shopping. Looking up, I noticed Blake standing above me. He was here. Why was he here?

  “Blake … hi,” I said. “What are you … um … why are you here?”

  He smiled his winning smile as he crouched next to me, retrieving food that had strayed to every corner of the kitchen.

  “Alex and I are off to the game; he’s running late as usual.”

  “Do you two not live in the same building?” I asked, confused.

  “Yeah, we do,” he answered simply before a small grin tugged at the side of his mouth.

  Realizing I was staring, I stood up quickly and placed the rest of the items on the worktop.

  “So,” Blake said as he stood and walked over next to me. I inhaled his scent; he smelt of soap and the aftershave that he had worn every day on set. He smelt clean and beautiful; just his scent made my legs feel weak and the area between my thighs throb with want.

  Trying not to appear too obvious, I turned and started putting the groceries away.

  “Are you looking forward to Friday?” he asked.

  “Friday?”

  “The party,” he replied.

  “Oh, yes.” was all I managed.

  I sensed the smile in his reply but couldn’t bring myself to turn to look at him for fear that he would be able to read me easier than a book. I felt my skin heat; it was written all over my face.

  I saw him from the corner of my eye; he gently leaned against the unit, his eyes burning into me. “Do you have a date?” he asked.

  My heart sped up; I could feel it beating hard without even placing my hand on my chest.

  “I’m taking Casey,” I replied shakily. Turning to face him, I noticed he was studying me. A small smile graced the corner of his mouth. “You?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

  “I’m going alone,” he said as he started tossing an apple continually into the air.

  Good, he was no longer staring, so he wouldn’t have noticed the obvious relief that flooded my face.

  Placing the apple in the bowl, he turned and faced me once more. “Look, Jo, I was wondering—”

  “Ready, Blake?” Alex appeared, dressed and ready to go.

  I didn’t miss the sound of Blake sighing at the interruption. Without taking his eyes off me, he smiled. “Yeah, I’m ready.” As he passed me and headed to the door, he leaned in towards me. “I’ll see you Friday, Jo.”

  The feel of his cool breath on my neck sent goose pimples over the whole of my body. I was unable to answer and watched as he left without another word.

  I couldn’t have imagined what had just happened. He liked me – he must? I had this feeling in the pit of my stomach that I couldn’t shake; something was going to happen between Blake and me, and I wasn’t even near strong enough to do anything about it.

  “Jo! Come on already, we’re gonna be late!”

  Casey was yelling at me from outside the bathroom, where I had spent the past three hours doing everything that I could do to make myself look irresistible. I had left my brown curly hair loose; Blake had made one tiny comment once – just once – about how nice my hair was, and I was wearing it loose at the time. I shook my head in disgust at myself for the way I was acting – the way I had sworn I would never act around a male ever again for as long as I lived. And yet here I was doing it all, the whole kit and caboodle. I felt ashamed of myself, yet there was no denying the excitement that I could feel bubbling up inside me at the thought of being near him again.

  After taking a few deep, cleansing breaths, I headed into the lounge where Casey stood waiting eagerly.

  “Holy shit, Batman,” she said with a smirk. “Who in God’s name are you trying to impress!”

  Trying my hardest to look innocent, I glanced down at my dress and back at Casey. “Too much?” I asked.

  “Definitely.” She nodded with a huge grin on her face. “You look amazing! Who is he?” She pushed her hip out to the side and rested her hand there as she waited for my reply.

  “He is no one,” I sighed. I walked past her, grabbing my bag, and headed for the door.

  “Not such a good actress when it comes to lying about a man, Jo!” she teased as she caught up with me. She then whispered, “I’m watching you,” before breaking out into a laugh.

  Shaking my head, I smiled at her. “Now you’re gonna make us late; come on.”

  She headed past me and out of the door. I had told Casey everything about Michael one night over a few cocktails. She knew my feelings about men and trust, but she also knew me well enough now to know that yes, I was trying to impress someone, and that that someone was only a ten-minute cab ride away.

  Peter was head of security in our building; he spoke with a very traditional English accent, which always made me feel at home. He held the door open for us as we stepped out onto the hot streets of New York. “Enjoy your evening, ladies,” he said with a smile.

  “Don’t wait up!” Casey yelled.

  “So,” Casey said in mock disgust, “we’re all dressed up and off the Plaza, yet we’re getting in a cab.”

  “Come on,” I teased. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

  “I must’ve left it back in the apartment with my fear of being murdered by a loony,” she replied dryly.

  “Yellow cabs are an icon; I love them,” I replied as a cab pulled up beside us.

  “So are limos and champagne,” Casey said sarcastically as she climbed into the cab. Casey was stunning; her golden hair was long and completely straight, and she had legs that went on forever and a figure to die for. She was confident, which I envied immensely. She had taken knock-backs quite often but was always professional and carried on regardless. I vowed to train myself to be more like her.

  It felt like the longest drive ever to the Plaza Hotel; my heart had begun a steady increase in the strength of its beats until it was actually beating so hard I swear I could actually see it pulsing against my skin. The thought of what the night would bring made me feel exited yet anxious.

  Casey talked non-stop, and I would throw in the odd yes, no, or maybe answer when prompted, but I had no idea what she was talking about. My mind was focused on one thing and one thing only.

  “Are you okay over there?” Casey asked, pulling me from my Blake dream.

  “Yes,” I answered, forcing a smile.

  “You seem … fidgety,” she observed.

  “It’s just the heat, that’s all; it’s so bloody hot.” I waved my hand in front of my face as if cooling myself down.

  “Well, if we had hired a limo, you wouldn’t be suffering now and we could have cooled off with some ice-cold champagne,” she complained.

  I shot her a glare to which she held her hands up in defeat. “Just saying.”

  I hurried us both through the waiting media as quickly as I could. Even though shots of us filming had hit some gossip sites over the past few months, I was still managing to keep myself quite anonymous, and I wanted to keep it that way for as long as was possible. I was enjoying the new found freedom that New York had given me, and as much as Casey hated the yellow cabs, I loved them. I loved that I could go anywhere and do anything and no one seemed to care. That was one thing that was so different in England. Back home I couldn’t even pop to a chemist for a box of aspirin without it being misinterpreted as me being there for a pregnancy test. I had yet to experience anything like that over here; New York was fast becoming my new home. I was happier here than I had been for a long time back in London.

  Casey and I entered the room where most of the cast and crew, including guests, were already gathered. The room was breathtaking; it was as if we had stepped out of 2014 and straight back into the 1920s.it was huge, with enormous chandeliers that hung around the centre of the room.

  Every table boasted a gigantic
flower arrangement made up of white calla lilies and perfect pink roses; the room both looked and smelt delicious.

  We were both handed a glass of champagne by a passing waiter, and I immediately took a large glug which sizzled warmly as it settled in my stomach. It tasted divine, and it was helping to settle my ever-growing nerves.

  Casey headed off into the crowd to mingle, but I found myself frozen to the spot, my brain failing to send any signal to my feet to enable me to move.

  My eyes immediately started to scan the growing crowd of people. I could feel Blake’s presence somewhere in this room. I knew he was here, but I couldn’t see him anywhere.

  “Looking for anyone in particular?”

  I felt a soft, warm breath on the back of my neck which made my skin tingle. I gasped and turned to face him; our eyes locked immediately.

  “Blake,” I whispered with a smile.

  “Jo,” he replied softly.

  “Hi.” I smiled.

  “Hi yourself,” he replied with a smile before taking a sip of his champagne. I took a moment to drink him in; he was the definition of beautiful. His body was toned in all of the right places, and his face was chiseled to perfection. He wore light stubble that I always imagined rubbing against my skin. His hair was dark and just long enough to grab hold of; I wanted to grab it and hold it so tightly between my fingers.

  “You look beautiful, Jo,” he said in the velvet tone that made the area between my thighs ache with want.

  “Thank you, so do you.” I immediately regretted adding that last bit, and I felt my face blush.

  Blake obviously noticed, as he smiled knowingly. “Thank you.” His fingers brushed my arm, stroking from my shoulder all the way down to my wrist. His fingers then linked with mine as he brushed his thumb over the palm of my hand.

  “You’re shaking,” he observed. “Are you nervous?” I managed a nod as I took another large gulp of champagne. “Can I be honest with you?”

  “Of course,” I said quietly.