Shattered Vows

By Crystal May

Sanders Point, a majestic mansion on the Atlantic Coast, offers Lauren a chance at a new life. She marries, in name only, a famous author...the dark, brooding Clifford Sanders, and soon discovers the seemingly beautiful mansion holds deep frightening secrets that haunt every member of the household. When sweet elderly Aunt Hester is murdered, Lauren learns the ugly truth that will tear the family apart and pit brother against brother. No one is safe from the evil that lurks within the mansion's walls...especially not Lauren. Clifford Sanders can only inherit his father's estate by marrying a perfect stranger...and perfect she is. The woman chosen for him is beautiful, witty, and full of surprises. Her talent for acting exceeds his expectations ...so much so, he fears he can't believe a word she says. Does she really love him...or is she just putting on an act for his father's benefit Only time will tell...and time is running out.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Apr 12, 2011
• ISBN: 9781257605569

Book preview

mom.

Chapter I

STUPID…STUPID CAR.

Frustrated, Lauren kicked the old bald tire and then leaned over the rusty fender, inspecting the battery cables under the hood.

Why now? You know how much I need that job. If I’m late for this interview, my goose is cooked.

The old decrepit car didn’t answer, but sat quietly, staring at its disgruntled owner through its large oval-shaped headlights. Lauren wiped her greasy hands on a rag she kept in the glove compartment and slid into the worn driver’s seat to try the ignition again.

Click…click…click.

Oh God, now what’ll I do? A steady procession of cars and their owners––stirring up a breeze as they whizzed past Lauren on the busy expressway––seemed not to notice or care about her predicament.

She slipped into a pair of overalls she always kept in the trunk, but figured even her best efforts wouldn’t work this time. Sheer desperation drove her back under the hood as she frantically wriggled the corroded cables again, hoping a simple loose connection was keeping her from her job interview at the school.

The cheap used car––more rightly destined for the junkyard––was always acting up, and today, the day when she needed it most––it died on the side of the expressway. She’d never make her appointment in time to snag that job as an English teacher. She needed a decent job so bad she could taste it, but now, with her sole form of transportation conking out on her, it seemed less likely than ever.

Soaking up the Florida sun for a whole year now, Lauren had only managed to work at earn-enough-to-barely-live-on jobs. Waitressing, bussing, fast food, and housecleaning were all ways to make money quickly, but didn’t provide enough cash to do anything but barely survive. She prayed every night for someone to notice her talent as a writer, but in the real world; it didn’t seem like that was ever going to happen. Her father had warned her that a degree in language arts wasn’t going to make her rich, but when had she ever listened to anyone? Especially her father?

After turning twenty-one, with college degree in hand, she’d struck out on her own and moved to Florida against her parents’ wishes and warnings.

Well, now was now, and she was stuck alongside the six-lane expressway at the mercy of the quickly passing public.

Maybe if I take this wrench and bang on the connections a little, they’ll connect.

Whack…whack!

Damn, now I’ve busted the cable completely off.

The gleaming red Corvette slowed a little as the sun-glassed driver spotted the disabled car on the side of the road. Checking the clock on the smooth burled wood covered dash, Cliff debated if he had enough time to stop. Quickly deciding to take a minute out of his busy schedule, he pulled behind the old green dinosaur that had seen better days, and got out of the car to approach the guy in coveralls under the hood.

Hey, buddy. Is there anything I can do to help?

The figure stood upright, banging its head on the hood, and a string of choice cuss words permeated the air in a very feminine voice.

"Son of a bitch! Damn, that hurt." The petite blonde in the baggy, unattractive overalls rubbed her head with one hand, and gripped an oily wrench tightly in the other. It shook back and forth in her hand as she quickly gave him the once over with her sky blue gaze, and then apparently deciding it was safe, offered her right hand to shake.

Cliff stared at her greasy black hand, and buried his hands in his pockets to avoid hers. He suddenly wished he hadn’t stopped.

Pardon me. It seems I was wrong. You’re not a buddy" at all, but you do look as if you’re more than capable of handling things yourself." His steady gaze flicked over the diminutive frame so unattractively displayed in the huge overalls, and finally rested on her black lashed eyes.

He abruptly turned to leave before she had a chance to think of a smart comeback.

No…he couldn’t just walk away like that and leave her there. What had happened to old fashion chivalry? Apparently it wasn’t alive and well in Florida, and this guy was as far from being a knight in shining armor as you could get. Without thinking, she reached out and grabbed his arm, leaving black smudgy fingerprints on the tanned skin of his wrist. She gulped when she saw the black marks she left.

Please…if you could give me a lift to a gas station, I’d really appreciate it. I’ve been trying to start this stupid car for a half hour, and it looks like it’s not going to happen. At least, not without a new battery. Her mouth screwed to one side, she displayed a cute dimple when she attempted a brave smile.

If you need a towing service, I’ll call one. I’m in a big hurry. Sorry I stopped at all.

Something about the little tomboy irritated Cliff. He had no patience for women who thought they could do men’s jobs and then came whining for help when it didn’t work out as they planned. This girl was one of them, and he didn’t feel like fighting any culture battles on the side of the road. He didn’t have the time. He was going home. He turned back towards his car, but was stopped short by Lauren’s angry retort.

I’m sorry you stopped too. You’re obviously a self-centered jerk. Well…thanks for nothing! She yelled at the top of her lungs, her face reddening with anger and exertion as she stomped back to her car.

Struggling to regain control after her outburst, Lauren flopped onto the driver’s seat and leaned with her forehead resting against the steering wheel, muttering to herself. Maybe she’d get lucky and someone would stop to mug her. At least she wouldn’t have to sit in that wreck of a car, sweating and looking stupid for the rest of the hot, muggy afternoon.

As tears of frustration trickled down her cheeks, she noticed a shadow at the window out of the corner of her bleared eyes.

The jerk was back!

He bent towards the driver’s side window, his angry green eyes sparring with her blue ones. She took her time rolling the window down, and tapped her fingers on the steering wheel as she coolly waited for him to speak.

If you want a ride, you’d better get out of that damn piece of junk and get into my car. Also, remove that filthy jumpsuit. I don’t want you getting my leather seats dirty.

Smug with the knowledge that the girl, who sputtered in anger, needed to take him up on his offer, Cliff spun around and headed back to his car, not even waiting to see if she’d follow him.

Lauren rolled up her windows and locked her doors before exiting the car, as if someone could steal it if they were dumb enough to want to. Then she went around to the trunk, opened it and leisurely began to remove the overalls and repair the damage to her makeup and hair. She wasn’t about to let that smart assed guy in the fancy sports car have the upper hand if she could help it.

Cliff glared at the slow moving figure through his rearview mirror. The nerve of the girl! She was purposely stalling to make him angry––no, correction––angrier. The massive engine on the Corvette sprang to life at the turn of a key, and he revved it as he waited for her to finish her primping, vowing if she wasn’t there in precisely two minutes, he’d leave without her.

When at last she turned and sashayed towards his car, his eyes blinked with pleasant surprise. The pixie’s blonde hair sparkled with silver shots in the bright sunlight and was long and beautiful without the baseball cap into which it had been carelessly shoved. It curled around the exquisite face that scowled at him through his windshield. When she slid into the bucket seat, she swung her long tan legs around, and her skirt rose high on her brown thigh. He sucked in his breath, and when he realized how badly he wanted to touch the smooth tanned surface of her skin.

What on earth is wrong with me anyway? I’m no love-starved teenager. Then, what’s making my palms sweat, and my heart pump so fast?

The little blonde tore through his turbulent thoughts with her complaints.

"Well, I’m in your stupid car…without my overalls, as you can see. Now are we going somewhere…or not? You know…I haven’t got all day. I was on my way to apply for a teaching position in the English Department at the high school. Some of us have to work for a living." She ran her gaze around the interior of the expensive car and sniffed significantly, as if her assumption he was rich and spoiled was correct.

With one brow raised, he studied the small person biting her cheek in indignation.

Why would you assume I don’t work? You don’t know anything about me. Talk about biting the hand that feeds you. I should’ve just left you there in that piece of crap you call a car.

Cliff stared indignantly into the smoldering blue eyes of the girl, who managed, with a flick of her shining hair, to send his mind into complete chaos.

Lauren battled her emotions too. She turned towards her rescuer to give him another piece of her mind when the breathtaking sight of his profile stopped her cold as he pulled into traffic, caught up with it, and then bypassed it easily. The magnificent red sports car purred like a satisfied kitten at seventy miles per hour, leaving her poor broken-down hunk of metal behind in the dust.

In fact, the owner of the magnificent car was so good-looking; it was difficult to remember why she was irritated with him. Like candy for her eyes, his jet-black hair topped his tanned face, and curled around his ears and down the nape of his neck. His eyes sparkled in the sunlight coming through the moon roof, as his muscular leg worked the gas pedal. He was simply gorgeous! Her fingers itched to touch the nape of his neck where the curls lingered, and to run through his hair with wild abandon.

Down girl, get control of yourself. Remember what a jerk he is. He was going to leave you alone on the highway to fend for yourself a few moments ago. Don’t go after the first thing that comes along just because you’ve had a long dry spell.

An angry masculine voice broke through her contradictory thoughts. WELL. When were you planning to tell me where you live? I haven’t got all day either, as you so aptly put it.

Those taunting green eyes were focused on her now, and she found it difficult to breathe. She shook her head to jar the cobwebs loose.

You can just drop me at a gas station where I can call somebody. She crossed her arms angrily, and stared straight ahead at the road. Then, reality set in and tears spilled down her cheeks.

Get real, Lauren. You don’t have any friends here…not one soul who cares if you live or die.

She’d been alone in the world since that day when her parents were killed in a horrible winter automobile accident up in Maine. Her bottom lip quivered just a little as she relived their untimely deaths. It was her fault they were dead––as surely as if she’d been the drunk in the other car that ran them off the slippery road.

She’d abandoned them when she moved out of their warm comfortable home so suddenly after she graduated. Maybe if she’d stayed at home like they begged her to, they wouldn’t have been out heading for a restaurant on that treacherous icy road on Christmas Eve. Now she didn’t have a home. She was a twenty-two year old orphan.

Cliff noticed the watery eyes the little brat tried so courageously to conceal, and he suspected the truth at once. She had no one to call. She was just trying to make him feel guilty. And damn it, anyway––it worked.

You’ve got two choices. Tell me where you live or I’ll pull over right here and drop you off. I’m not taking you to a gas station. He glanced at her again and noticed that her folded arms came down, and she was watching him with those blue watery eyes of hers––those terribly disturbing sad eyes that could melt the polar ice caps with one look.

Head south on Courtney. I live in the Tropical Groves Apartments. Lauren spun her head towards the side window, not wanting to see his angry scowl again, but her resolve was short lived. She couldn’t help turning to gaze upon his rugged good looks just one more time, no matter how hard she tried to avoid succumbing to his animal magnetism. How could a man be so good-looking and have such a horrible personality at the same time? It was a sure thing that he probably didn’t have many friends.

Yeh––right! He probably had a lot of female friends. What woman wouldn’t go for a handsome face like that and an obvious bank load of money? Amazingly the thought that he had other women bothered her. What was wrong with her?

You need to get a grip, girl. Breathe…breathe.

The day had just been very trying, that’s all. When I get home and take a nice hot bath, everything will make more sense. He probably won’t even seem so overpoweringly attractive anymore.

Excuse me. I hate to intrude on your thoughts, but which building is yours? the insufferable man asked with a jerk of his head, making her wish she’d just walked the ten miles back to her small apartment complex.

He was glaring at her again. God, the man was unbelievable.

"Stop here. Thanks, for your kindness." She popped the door open, began to remove her seatbelt, and was about to jump out when he slammed on his brakes.

Hold on a minute, I didn’t even get your name, and you’d think the least you could do would be to offer me a cup of coffee after I’ve gone out of my way to see you to your door. Cliff turned on his charm. He’d just come to the realization that this girl had something he needed badly.

Lauren noticed the obnoxious man’s voice was surprisingly kinder now, as if he had a change of heart––or he was up to something. He smiled, and deep, disturbing dimples caressed his cheeks, making her heart summersault in her chest, making her want to believe whatever he told her. He was handsome when he scowled, but he was gorgeous when his face lit up in a smile. She felt weak in the knees and her palms were damp. Her legs were just barely able to hold her upright when she finally stood on the firm pavement of the parking lot.

My apartment’s kind of small…and old. I’m sure it’s not what you’re used to, and besides, I don’t even know if I have any coffee. Her words echoed her first inclination to brush him off, but then she thought better of it when she looked at his gorgeous smiling face again. Did she really want to send him on his way?

How about a coke or something cold? I think I could manage that.

Even as she made the offer she hoped she wouldn’t regret, her mind was second-guessing her.

What am I doing––inviting a strange man up to my apartment? He could be an axe murderer for all I know, but he’s so-o-o-o good-looking; I can’t let him leave yet.

Sure. Let me park the car.

She slammed the door and stood with her arms akimbo watching him park, unfold himself from the low-slung car, and stride towards her. He was a man who obviously was comfortable in his skin. There was no apology in how he walked with his shoulders thrown back, or how he held his head with his chin up high. He was what he was and he expected everyone to accept it––or perhaps even more than accept it––admire it. And there was plenty there to admire.

Lauren measured him with her eyes and noticed how tall he was––probably several inches taller than she; and he towered over her when, at last, he stood next to her. Her head spun with his nearness and the smell of his expensive manly cologne. New and exciting feelings spread web-like silky threads through her body, making it long for something new to her, and she wasn’t quite sure what was happening. She’d never in all her twenty plus years wanted to taste a man’s lips so badly. Her eyes focused on his perfectly shaped lips, just thinking about touching them with her own, and she couldn’t help but run her tongue over her own.

What’s the little nuisance doing now? Sweat ran in rivulets down the gully of Cliff’s back as he watched his passenger’s stare lock on his lips while she licked hers suggestively. Her actions made him want much more than a cold drink. An inescapable fact lodged in his mind and overtook all sensible reasoning about the young woman he’d innocently offered a ride. I want her. Would she run screaming and yelling if he pulled her into his arms and sampled her tempting mouth, like––although he didn’t want to admit it––he’d wanted to since he saw her approaching his car with her golden hair flowing around her shoulders?

She was extremely beautiful and perfectly shaped––not too big––not too small. Her nicely rounded breasts peeked out from her white halter-top, and her shapely tanned legs drove him insane the whole time she sat next to him in the small cabin of the car. His itching fingers had almost crept over to sample their smooth texture without his permission. Now she was teasing him with her hot perusal of his mouth. Just when he thought she was going to drive him over the brink, and make him do something he would be ashamed of, she spoke in that sexy low voice of hers.

Well, I…I…guess we should get going. If you still want to come up…that is.

Sure. You lead the way, he managed to choke out through clenched teeth, and followed closely behind her, noticing how enticingly her hips moved as she walked before him. God, keeping his distance was going to be difficult. He took out his handkerchief and wiped the sweat off his brow, as she climbed the steep two flights of stairs leading to her apartment. He followed a few paces behind her; watching her every move, and wanting her more with each little step she took.

After Lauren brought him a cold soda and sat in the cane chair across from Cliff, she crossed her legs and smiled tentatively. She was most likely wondering why he’d suddenly changed his demeanor and started being nice to her. She probably wondered what he was up to.

He watched the questioning thoughts run across her shadowed face like closed-captioned words on a foreign movie. She was easy to read. She didn’t trust him. Well, why should she? He’d acted like a stupid ass when he first met her. It was just that he didn’t trust any woman. They were all like his mother and that slut of a fiancé he was lucky enough to get rid of. They all ran off as soon as they found a better catch, and he was sure this one wouldn’t be any different.

Give the woman a chance. She hasn’t done anything wrong. I’ve got to risk it. Hell, I’m only going to offer her a job, and I really need to find someone who’ll put up with my perfectionist attitude. How many assistants have I been through? Eight! Is it my fault they’re all inept and stupid? Maybe this girl is different. At least, she’s a whole lot easier to look at than those guys were, if nothing else.

Miss…ah…hell…I still don’t know your name. He wiped his forehead again with his handkerchief and stared into her eyes, waiting for her answer, and wishing that she’d turn her air conditioning a few degrees lower before he melted into a puddle right there on the floor.

Lauren…Lauren Norris…and I don’t know yours either, so don’t be so snotty.

God, she’s got a way of getting under my skin. His hackles instantly rose at her smart remark, but he tried to remain calm, vowing not shout at her again––or at least not until she agreed to work for him. He really needed her help or his book would never be finished on time.

Clifford Randall Sanders III, at your service, ma’am, he replied, with a mock bow. Lauren…then…would you be interested in working for me? From our conversation in the car, it seems you have the credentials I’m looking for in an assistant. I’m a writer and I could use an proof reader and research assistant.

Unable to close her gaping mouth, Lauren took in the relevance of his name…Sanders…as in Sanders Island and Sanders Road. Cliff Sanders, the world-renowned playboy, was sitting in her living room, in her chair, calmly drinking a soda. He had offhandedly said he was a writer. A writer––only one of the best mystery writers in the country. Could he really be offering her a job? What luck! Careful to not get too excited before she knew all the facts, she casually re-crossed her legs, and took a sip from her drink, trying to appear nonchalant.

"How much would this job offer, and when would it be available, if I decided to take it?"

Easy, girl…don’t overdue it. It’d be awful if he changes his mind and walks out. There would be no choice then but to run after him and grovel at his feet, begging his forgiveness. Not very good at groveling, she crossed her fingers behind her back and waited breathlessly for his answer.

We can work out the details later, but I’m sure it would pay more than you’re earning now. His gaze searched her poor excuse for an apartment with obvious distaste at its shabbiness and sparse eclectic furnishings.

Lauren studied her nails for a moment. I suppose we could give it a try. After all, I do find myself between positions at the moment.

There…that sounded pretty cool and reserved. But why is he offering me such a prize position? There are oodles of people who’d jump at the chance to work on one of his books––with pay or not.

As to when you’d start…I need you yesterday. I know you have to pack and give your landlord notice, but my newest book is already behind schedule. He brought the glass to his lips again and took a sip, leaning towards her, waiting for her reply.

Her hungry stare devoured his perfectly shaped mouth, wishing she were the lucky glass. Realizing he expected a reply, she shook her head free of its enticing thoughts, You want me to live with you? I didn’t realize that was part of the deal. I couldn’t possibly….

He cut her off in mid sentence. That’s the deal. I can’t be waiting for you to show up everyday so I can start work, and besides sometimes I come up with a great idea in the middle of the night, and I need to work on it then. If it won’t work for you, maybe we should just forget it. He slammed his glass on the rickety table next to his chair, and stood up with his gaze on the door.

No...no…you just took me by surprise. Tomorrow’ll be fine. Most of this furniture came with the apartment, so all I really need to do is pack my clothes and personal items. It’ll only take me about an hour if I put my mind to it. She smiled now, praying his offer was still open, and she hadn’t blown it because of her basic distrust of the male species as a whole.

Good. I’ll wait for you and drive you to your new home. Tomorrow we’ll see about getting your car back, as I’d imagine they’re towing it away about now. He glanced at his watch, sat back in his chair and stared at his empty glass. Mind if I help myself while you’re packing?

She nodded numbly, hardly believing she was going to live in a mansion and get paid for working on a Cliff Sanders book. Finally, after all of her trials and tribulations, her guardian angel had figured out where she was on earth and had come to help her.

The whole packing process took little more than a half hour. She realized how little she really had of her own. It was kind of pitiful to see the small pile by her bedroom door. When the last bag was packed, she sat on the bed and worried––the one thing she was really good at. Could she be making the biggest mistake of her life––going with this unknown man?

Chapter II

The Sanders Estate was even more expansive than it appeared from the glimpses Lauren managed to steal from the heavily treed four-lane road that passed by it. When they drove up, the white stucco façade gave no indication of the two extensive wings projecting from the back of the mansion on either side. They formed a lush tropical courtyard in the center with a gaily-splashing waterfall that spilled into an Olympic-sized swimming pool overlooking the sparkling Atlantic Ocean.

The marble foyer was cool but welcoming with the bright sunlight flowing through the massive glass sliders that lead to the breathtaking courtyard, opposite the front entrance. Lauren’s tennis shoes squeaked with each step she took on the Italian marble floor, as she followed the servant who was instructed to show her to her room. Her room. Cliff…Mr. Sanders, had said Show her to her room, as if he were always bringing home strange young women and giving them shelter. Maybe he was.

Lauren didn’t really care, she was just glad to be who she was––and where she was at that very moment. It had been so long since she’d felt this content––like she didn’t have a care in the world. She happily followed the graying elderly woman as she climbed the massive circular light oak staircase, and headed towards the back of the south wing.

The silence of a church apse greeted them on the second floor as the older and younger woman moved quietly along the floral carpeted hallway. Wanting to make light conversation and to get to know the short, stocky woman who guided her better, Lauren remarked, Wow, there’s even another floor? She stopped and gestured at the winding oak staircase at the end of the elongated carpeted wing.

The housekeeper snorted loudly and pointed a bony finger at Lauren.

"You won’t be going up there, missy. All you’ll need is on this floor or the lower one. Do you understand? Not waiting for an answer to the question she took for granted as a yes," the petite woman continued a bit farther down the hall, and stopped before the door that was nearest the forbidden stairs. She threw it open and herded Lauren inside as if she were eager to get her away from those stairs, and any further questions the girl might have concerning them.

The stairs completely forgotten when the door opened, Lauren’s breath caught in her throat when she entered the massive room, stepping into carpet pile so deep her well-worn sneakers sunk into it. The whole room was a dream. At over ten feet high, the white stucco-finished ceiling was spaced evenly by dark walnut beams. From the center hung a large chandelier that twinkled and tinkled as the draft from the open French doors spun and twirled it mesmerizingly.

Blue…everything was done in shades of blue, except for the white French provincial furniture and crisp white curtains at the massive windows overlooking the opulent gardens below. The majestic Atlantic Ocean pounded the sandy shore adjoining the property in the distance, and could be seen if one looked towards the east.

Lauren, who had never experienced anything so beautiful or so luxurious, could barely contain her delight as she waited for the cranky woman to leave her alone to unpack.

Thank you for your assistance, Juanita. I’m sure I’ll be all right now, she said in dismissal of the brown beady eyes studying her, as if trying to figure out the reason a blonde female stranger had been allowed to invade the estate’s solemn privacy.

Mr. Sanders dines at seven. If you don’t want to get off on the wrong foot, be sure to be on time. He hates when guests aren’t prompt. The crotchety old woman turned stiffly and proceeded to