Waiting for You (Indigo Series #2)

By Kate McBrien

Do you believe love can transcend time?

It's only been a week, but Justin is miserable waiting for Lucy to contact him. He's back in London for Indigo's concert series and needs to get his head in the game, but his heart is back in America.

Stuck hiding out at her parents' house in Los Angeles, Lucy is consumed with doubt and regret about her decision to stay behind.
When the Varangian Cross is sold to a private buyer in London, Lucy jumps at the chance to deliver the cross to the new owner and maybe reconnect with Justin.

Lucy arrives in London in time for another roadblock to their relationship: a serious allegation has been made against Justin, and the paparazzi are in overdrive, forcing Justin under cover just to make it through the concert series.

Finally reunited, their passion is renewed. But their nightmares have returned and are feeling more like memories than dreams. It’s time to find out the truth behind their connection.

Waiting for You is the second book of a contemporary romance trilogy.

Note to Readers: This book contains scenes which may be triggering to survivors of sexual violence.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kate McBrien
• Release date: Oct 15, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463666838

Kate McBrien

Kate McBrien writes sexy and witty contemporary romance.She has an MA in art history and has taught art history at a local college. For many years, Kate has worked as a dental hygienist, courageously offering encouragement to her non-flossing patients.She has always enjoyed writing but became more serious after being encouraged by a friend to participate in National Novel Writing Month. She began writing historical fiction but soon realized that the romance was taking over the history.Kate is a San Francisco Bay Area native who lives near the beach with her husband and Lola, their spoiled Labrador Retriever. When not writing, she enjoys cooking, music, movies, reading, and fangirling over Jamie Dornan.

Book preview

DEDICATION

To L.B.

PROLOGUE

Constantinople, April 1204

Francesca slowed her steps when she approached the courtyard where her father’s soldiers trained. Since this was close to the barracks, there was no reason for her ever to be in this area of the palace. Soldiers lived and trained here, and as an unescorted young woman, she risked the appearance of impropriety to be anywhere near these men. She would often take detours and find excuses to be here that would make Anna furious if she ever found out.

But Francesca was clever. She had found the perfect spot, in a corner behind an enormous column, where she could watch several soldiers engaged in sword training. The clanging metal and their shouts startling at such an early hour. They were shirtless, and their breath came out in plumes of steam on this cold morning. She moved back and peeked around the stone column when Stefanos arrived. Taller than the others, he stood out by not only his height but his broad shoulders, his muscles flexing with every movement. His hair was golden brown and curled around his ears. Francesca often teased him that he looked like a peasant with his longish hair, but he would laugh and call her a spoiled princess.

Even from this distance, she could see his puckered lips, no doubt whistling a new tune.

Although his concentration focused on his men, she knew he was aware of her presence. And that thought made her body tingle with feelings she’d never experienced before. She suspected he knew about her hiding place, as well, but he never mentioned it to her. He was always aware of where she was. It was his job, after all. 

Stefanos had joined her father’s household five years ago. Francesca was thirteen, and Stefanos was already twenty years old. At first, he paid her no attention at all, but four years ago, her father decided she should have a personal guard, someone to protect his daughter from unwanted attention.

Francesca had been skinny as a child, but after adolescence, she was aware of the many ways her body had changed and the subsequent attention from men. Anna told Francesca that her wide hips and full breasts made her a beauty. Francesca wore her dark hair long, like most girls, and she was praised for her flawless skin and unusual dark blue eyes—the same shade of blue as Stefanos’ eyes.

As she matured, Francesca noticed that Stefanos’ looks lingered, or she would catch him gazing at her when he thought she wasn’t watching him. She was intrigued by how his left eye sometimes blinked slower than the right. It was one of the first things she noticed about him.

When they first met, he ignored her, but in time, they started having short conversations: nothing serious, just comments about the weather or trivial details about palace life. She loved these moments they spent together. They had an easy rapport that evolved into friendship. While she shared stories about her early life in Constantinople, he told her about growing up in England. Probably more than anyone else she knew, Stefanos had been privy to learning all her likes and dislikes, her fears and worries. Whether he caught her before she tripped over a stone, or she had forgotten a glove in her chamber, Stefanos was there to take care of it.

A year ago, just before her betrothal to Zeno, Stefanos distanced himself from her. He was still present to protect her, but he avoided eye contact or conversation. Her father had informed her that because she would be officially betrothed, it was improper for her to be seen talking to another man, even if he was a trusted soldier. Her father liked Stefanos, but Zeno did not. Francesca would catch him sneering at Stefanos whenever they were in the same room.

Everything changed the night of her betrothal banquet. Zeno had been drinking heavily, making crude comments to those around him about what he was going to do to Francesca in bed. His words stung and were intended to embarrass her in front of his friends. Even her father had joined in the laughter.

Papa, she said, blinking back tears. Please don’t make me marry Zeno. He frightens me.

Her father’s usual kind expression shifted into indifference. I’ve spoiled you too much, he said with a shake of his head. You’re a woman now and it’s time to accept that you must submit to your husband’s demands. He turned his back to her and returned his attention to one of his navy comrades.

When Francesca stood to leave, Zeno placed a firm hand on her thigh, pushing back her down. You’re not going anywhere, he hissed, his breath heavy with the sour stench of wine. When she tried to resist, he said, Be careful, Francesca. When you are my wife, I will beat you if you ever refuse me. And that brooding English protector of yours won’t be there to keep you from me. Remember that, he said with an angry glare.

So Francesca remained still and stared down at her untouched meal while everyone around her drank and roared with laughter. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Stefanos watching her. She lifted her head and caught his eye as a lone tear rolled down her cheek. Stefanos got to his feet, knocking over his wine goblet, and stormed out of the banquet hall. Francesca was devastated.

The next day, Francesca had her beloved mare, Dora, saddled and intended to take a long ride around the city walls. A cat jumped onto a nearby fence post and released a long hiss in her direction. It must have frightened Dora because the horse bolted away from the city. Francesca held on as tight as she could as her horse tore through thickets, dodging trees, until it missed clearing a log. She was thrown forward when the horse stumbled, tumbling several times once she hit the ground. She was disoriented, her ankle throbbing and unusable, and not sure where she was.

After trying and failing to get on her feet, she gave up, putting her face in her hands and breaking down in tears.

She looked up when the pounding of hooves came closer. Stefanos was magnificent sitting on his horse in his armor. Even through the small visor of his helmet, his blue eyes focused intently on hers. He pulled off his helmet, leapt off his horse, and ran to her.

Francesca! Are you hurt? He crouched down beside her. I was training my men when you left. You looked upset.

Don’t! she cried when he took her ankle in his hands.

I won’t hurt you, he said as he carefully examined her ankle.

Stefanos turned her ankle one way and another, and she flinched when he touched a sore spot. He looked at her with such tenderness that she cried fresh tears. Maybe Stefanos did have feelings for her, after all.

You’ll be all right, he said, helping Francesca to her feet.

Dora, she said, scanning the area for her horse.

That mare likes her supper too much to go very far. I’ll send someone for her later. Let’s get you up on my horse, Stefanos said, lifting her up in his arms.

Francesca had never been this close to a man before, and it should have frightened her. But instead, she felt safe.

I’m sorry, Francesca, he said in a soothing voice.

Francesca put her arms around his neck and burrowed into his shoulder and cried. She knew Stefanos wasn’t referring to her ankle; he was expressing his regret about her betrothal to Zeno.

How did you find me? she asked, raising her face to him.

Stefanos’ eyes blazed with conviction. I will always find you.

What am I going to do Stefanos? I hate Zeno. I’d rather die than marry him.

They held each other’s gaze for only a few moments, but in the short span of time she was certain he wanted to kiss her. Instead, he blinked a few times and then glanced away. No one was around, but they weren’t too far from the city gates, so they would need to be careful of being seen. And as always, Stefanos wanted to protect her from any threat, especially palace gossip.

He brushed a few curls from her face and lifted her onto his horse. As he adjusted her sore foot in the stirrup, his fingers lingered on her hose-covered ankle. Stefanos slowly raised his eyes to hers, saying in a sincere voice, I won’t ever let anything happen to you. And I promise you, somehow, some way, you will not marry him. He hesitated a moment before reaching for her hand. Lifting her hand to his lips, he gave her fingers a gentle kiss. He paused for a moment before the corners of his mouth turned up, and he said with a wink, Besides, your wedding won’t happen for a year, so cheer up.

Holding the reins, Stefanos walked alongside the horse and whistled a new tune.

Thank you, Stefanos, she said with a warm smile. Maybe everything would work out after all.

Francesca knew Stefanos was in love with her. He never said the precise words, but over the next months, he devised ways to keep her away from Zeno, or at the very least interrupt them when Zeno was pressing her for a kiss. Stefanos also found a few opportunities for him and Francesca to be together. Sometimes it was a riding lesson, other times he pretended he was asked to run an errand for her. Nothing inappropriate ever happened, but he would brush up against her, or sigh when she had to leave.

One week ago, he intercepted her as she was leaving Mass, and had asked her to meet him at sunset in an abandoned attic room in the palace. She knew exactly where it was because she used to hide there as a child when she wanted to get away from Anna. Tonight she planned on telling Stefanos she loved him and giving him the cross as a token of her love. And hopefully, he would say he loved her in return.

With a final glance behind her, she caught the sound of his whistling. She knew without turning around that he watched her leave. She would return to her chambers to count the hours until she would meet him in their secret meeting place.

CHAPTER 1

Lucy

Please, Lucy, Colleen moaned. How long has it been?

Seven days and about six hours, Lucy said, squeezing her eyes shut. She wasn’t sure of the precise minutes, but she missed Justin so much it ached.

I thought so. Look, it’s Saturday. It’s time you rejoined the world.

Lucy frowned, her gaze drifting around her childhood bedroom: pink walls, white wrought iron bed and white and pink duvet, swimming trophies on the bookshelf, and a poster of the Eiffel Tower. She grew up in this room, but rather than providing comfort, it had become a prison cell.

Hello? Are you listening to me?

Yeah. I’m just thinking, Lucy replied as she considered Colleen’s suggestion.

Would you rather spend Saturday night with your parents?

No, Lucy answered with a long groan. Her mother had been relentless in her criticism of Justin, and she couldn’t endure another lecture.

You could have gone after him, you know, Colleen said. He wanted you to.

I know, she replied in a quiet voice. Lucy had been angry and humiliated after she watched the sex video. And when Justin came to Colleen’s condo, they’d had a horrible fight. He begged her to go with him, but Lucy did what she always did: played it safe. In this case that meant staying in Los Angeles, finishing her Ph.D. in art history, and getting the research job she always wanted at the Preston Museum. After he had left, Justin sent her a text, apologizing. Once again, he invited her to come to London. And if she refused, he was leaving it up to her to contact him. Lucy had a second chance. Without thinking, she had run to the door and thrown it open, but was blinded by the camera flashes and intimidated by the shouting reporters. Her parents’ security team swooped in, and before she could process what was happening, they had whisked her away. Once back in her parents’ home, with her mother’s constant lectures, her nerve failed her. For the millionth time, she wondered if she made the right decision to stay behind and return to her ordered life. And now, only one week later, she was still in her old bedroom. Where would she be in one month? Six months? It was time to reclaim her life.

The stuff Rachel said about you in that video was dubbed, and now she’s globetrotting around Europe shopping for a man with no moral compass but loads of cash. You’re not the story the press is after anymore.

Colleen was right. The coverage was intense at first, but fizzled out as soon as everyone realized the story had been fabricated. And while Rachel sightings were still newsworthy, the fascination with Justin was insatiable. He might be busy in London rehearsing for Indigo’s concerts at the Royal Albert Hall, but the paparazzi were having a field day following him everywhere.

I don’t think anyone will bother you because La Mer is a private club.

Brian is a member? She and Justin might not be together, but Colleen and Brian were dating exclusively. Despite her misery, she was happy for her best friend. Having grown up in a big family, Colleen often took care of others, and Brian Waters, curator of photography at the Preston, was interested in taking care of Colleen.

He hates clubbing. But he knows I love it, so we compromised. He gets to go to a club that’s familiar to him, and I have a place to party. It’s got great food, music, and the cocktails are fantastic.

All right. You convinced me. What time? Unlike Colleen, Lucy didn’t enjoy going to clubs. She preferred quiet gatherings with as few people as possible. Why did Colleen put up with her at all?

Really? Colleen squealed. We have a dinner reservation at eight thirty, so what about meeting for cocktails at eight?

Okay. I’ll see you there.

Do you want us to pick you up?

No. I’ll probably have to use my dad’s driver. Lucy hated losing her independence and missed driving her car, but as long as she stayed with her parents, it was a rule they insisted upon.

It won’t be like this forever, Colleen offered.

Lucy blinked away her tears, trying to keep her emotions in check. It won’t, but it seems like it right now, she replied in a whisper.

Well, in the meantime, we’ll get you out and about. It’s time, Colleen said, using her most optimistic tone.

I think so, too. I’ll see you later, Lucy said, ending the call.

Lucy leaned back against the pillows and glanced out the window. It was almost sunset; she would have to shower and dress soon. Picking up her phone, and against better judgment, she typed Justin’s name into the Google search box. Her heart beat faster, scrolling through the images, looking at a recent photo taken the night before, as he was leaving a band rehearsal. Her fingers expanded the picture. Justin’s eyes were tired and dull. Was he still troubled by nightmares, as she had been? Some nights she didn’t dream at all, but other nights, she woke up terrified she was restrained and couldn’t get to him.

Lucy scrolled through her contacts list and paused on his name. Maybe she should just send him an email, ask how he’s doing. But she hesitated, because she couldn’t bear it if he were no longer interested.

Enough! Lucy grumbled, throwing her phone down on the bed. She stepped out onto her balcony that overlooked the Pacific Ocean. The fog had lifted late in the afternoon, but was still visible on the horizon. Inhaling the scent of fresh ocean air helped clear her head. She couldn’t keep living in this self-imposed limbo. And tonight, with Colleen’s help, she would venture out into public for the first time since Justin left.

After showering, Lucy pulled her hair into a casual bun. She wasn’t getting ready for a date, but she wanted to feel good about her appearance. She stood at her closet and deliberated her options. Her mother had moved some clothes from her cottage, but she didn’t have much to choose from for a night out. She pushed a few hangers aside until she spotted a dress in the back. She pulled out the slate-gray Armani cocktail dress her mother must have bought her some time ago. This will do. It was short, with lace around the neckline, a fitted bodice, and a full skirt.

Lucy lifted her eyebrows in surprise when she put the dress on and noticed it was a little loose. Losing a few pounds was probably the only benefit of this whole Justin and Rachel mess.

As Lucy went downstairs, the aroma of Italian food came from the kitchen. Maria was singing quietly when she glanced up from the stove in surprise, grinning when she noticed that Lucy was dressed to go out. Have a nice evening, Miss Lucy, she said, waving a spoon covered in tomato sauce.

I will, she said with a smile.

Lucy followed her parents’ voices out onto the terrace. The deep baritone of her father’s voice blended with her mother’s girlish laughter. They were sipping cocktails while enjoying the sunset, seated on a contemporary wicker sofa with overstuffed striped white and beige pillows. Her mother had artfully placed a cashmere throw next to her, in case it got too chilly. Candles glowed in hurricane lamps on a low cocktail table. It was a peaceful but deceptive setting, because Lucy anticipated resistance about her decision to go out.

Hi, Lucy said in a cheerful voice.

Her mother’s eyes widened in surprise, and she set her martini glass down on the nearby table.

You’re going out? her father asked, standing to greet her.

Her mother raised an arched brow as she waited for Lucy’s answer.

I’m meeting Colleen and Brian at La Mer. It’s a private club, so I’ll be safe enough.

Oh, Lucy, that’s not a good idea, her mother said with a frown. Why don’t you stay home and have dinner with us instead? Maria is making a Bolognese.

Lucy tucked a stray curl behind her ear. I’m only planning to stay for dinner.

Let me call Sam to bring up the car. He pulled out his cell phone to make the call.

Wait a minute, her mother said, getting to her feet. What if one of those paparazzi scum sees her?

Lucy groaned and crossed her arms.

Let’s compromise. Her father exhaled, looking back and forth between his wife and daughter. He put his hand on his wife’s arm to stop her from interrupting, turning his attention to Lucy. I’m glad you decided to get together with your friends, but let’s have our driver take you there. It will make your mother and I feel better about your first evening out. Is that fair? he asked, smiling at her.

Okay. But this is the last time. Now was the time to stand up for herself. She took a deep breath, and said, Beginning Monday, I drive myself to the museum, and I want to move back to the cottage as soon as possible.

I don’t like it, her mother said with a pout.

Monica, her father said. Sooner or later, Lucy has to begin living her own life again. He turned back to Lucy. We made a deal. First, we changed all your contact information, so no one could bother you. Second, you stay here until we’re confident you’re safe and no one will harass you. And third, you’re driven to and from the museum. The scandal has subsided, so it might be time for a change.

For the first time in a week, Lucy was hopeful that she was taking a step forward in reclaiming her life.

Let me discuss this with your mother, and we’ll figure out when you can get back to the cottage. Deal? he said with a wink, holding out his hand.

Deal. Lucy smiled at her father and shook his hand. Thanks, Daddy.

I still don’t like it, but I know when I’m outnumbered, Lucy’s mother said as she leaned in to give Lucy a brief hug. Be careful, Lucy.

I will. Don’t worry so much. Despite her parent’s overprotectiveness, she was grateful for their help, so the least she could do would be to agree to their terms of transition.

I’ll look after your mom, her father whispered, kissing Lucy on the cheek. Have a fun night. We’ll see you in the morning.

Thanks for everything, Lucy said.

CHAPTER 2

Lucy

When the driver pulled up in front of the restaurant, he opened the door for her, saying, Have a nice evening, Ms. Bianchi. Just call when you’re ready for me to pick you up.

Thanks, Sam. Any nervousness she had about arriving alone vanished when she saw Colleen and Brian there to greet her.

Look at you. Cooped up for a week and you’re glowing. Colleen gave Lucy a big hug. Colleen was her usual, relaxed chic self, wearing a short black-and-white polka dot sheath dress, her blonde hair pulled back in a low ponytail. Brian wore classic gray trousers and a white shirt.

You look great, Brian said, kissing her cheek.

Thanks, you guys. I appreciate the invitation.

Come on. Colleen took Lucy’s arm. Let’s have girly cocktails, tell stories, and have fun.

La Mer was an intimate restaurant, decorated in earth tones. It had wood-beamed ceilings and an old Hollywood vibe to it, with arched doorways and a dining area that opened onto a patio for al fresco suppers. People filled the cozy bar sitting at candlelit tables. By the time the hostess came over to bring them to their table, Lucy was sipping a cosmopolitan, more at ease in her surroundings.

Seated at a small corner table on the patio, Lucy took the menu from the hostess and said, This is perfect.

I requested their most private table, Brian said, opening his menu, glancing at it, then putting it aside.

Oh, Brian. Not again, Colleen groaned.

Lucy looked up from the menu. What’s wrong?

We’ve eaten here a few times, and Brian always orders a hamburger. Colleen shook her head,