Persistence Of Dreams

2008 Ebook Cover

• Author: Ann Warner
• Publisher: Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
• Year: 2008, November 04
• Genre: Contemporary
• Setting:
• Series: Sequel to Dreams For Stones
• Amazon Listing: Persistence of Dreams
• Available Formats (As of 09/15/09):
  • Ebook (ISBN-13: 978-1-60504-229-9)
  • Kindle (ASIN: B001KC6X3U)
  • Trade Paperback (ISBN-10: 1605044032)

Book Description

Blurb

From Samhain Publishing:

To find a whole-hearted love, they had to lose everything

Sequel to Dreams For Stones

Luz Montalvo was a carefree college student until her parents died in a car crash. Frantic not to lose her younger siblings to foster care, Luz took them on the run. After nearly a year scraping by as an apartment manager, she’s just beginning to feel safe when she discovers her newest tenant is her worst nightmare.

Charles Larimore, a Denver district attorney, has been shaped by losses that left him wary of everyone and everything. Including love. After losing all he owns in a suspicious fire, he moves into a lonely apartment with the only possession he has left. An empty heart.

Luz tries desperately not to fall in love with a man who is part of the system that can tear her family apart. At first, Charles convinces himself his feelings for the prickly Luz are merely protective instincts. And there’s something going on beneath her determination to avoid him.

Secrets and seven year olds are a volatile mix, so it isn’t long before he learns that Luz is hiding from the authorities. Charles must choose: say nothing and risk his integrity, or turn her in and lose the only woman who could make his heart whole.

Warning: This book contains deeply emotional material, which may prevent you from putting it down—bringing both tears to your eyes and a smile to your face.

Excerpt

From Samhain Publishing:

Charles, in suit and tie, stood on Luz’s doorstep. “We need to talk.” The iciness of his tone was matched by the cold look in his eyes. “Here or my place, your call.”

Luz’s mouth went dry, but the rest of her felt like she was being swept away from land by a huge wave. She shifted her eyes to Charles’s mouth. It was carved from the same block of ice as his eyes. She lifted her chin and met his gaze. “And a good evening to you, too.” Being a smart-ass wasn’t wise, but she was too frightened not to take a swipe at him, although that swipe had all the power of a kitten going up against an elephant.

He simply stared at her, waiting.

Trying to ignore her churning stomach, she stiffened her spine and spoke carefully. “Your place. I need to tell Cora.”

“Good.”

He left, and she knocked on Cora’s bedroom door.

Cora opened the door, wearing a robe, her hair half in curlers. “What is it, dear?”

“Charles wants to talk to me. Can you listen for the kids?”

“Certainly. You go right ahead. I’ll leave my door open so I can hear them.” Cora patted her hair, giving Luz a meaningful look.

Her world was about to go up in flames, and Cora was worried about hair. “I’ll comb it.”

Cora looked at her shirt.

No. “He’s already seen me like this. It’ll look needy if I change.”

Cora patted her arm. “You’re so pretty, it doesn’t matter what you wear, dear.”

Yeah, right. Even if she was as pretty as Cora kept telling her she was, it wouldn’t be enough. Not in this circumstance.

She could tell by the expression on Charles’s face, and from the tie still firmly knotted around his neck, that this wasn’t about the daycare issue. He knew everything, and he was going to turn them in.

She closed her eyes, and panic hit in a black wave. The urge to grab the children and leave, right this minute, was so strong, her body trembled with it. But it was nine at night and she had no car, little money, and nowhere to go. At most, she might get a five-minute head-start before Charles came after them.

And what about Cora? How would she manage without Luz? Or for that matter, Luz was no longer sure how she would manage without Cora. Her only choice was to meet with Charles to see if she could buy more time to plan. Like she’d done with Martin Blair and the woman from Children’s Services.

She ran a quick brush through her hair, pulled it back, and grabbed an elastic to hold it in place, then she stood over a sleeping Marisol and Carlito, grappling with a fear so enormous it nauseated her. Breathing carefully, she rested her hand lightly on Carlito’s fat little bottom, wordlessly entreating God, the saints, the angels, indeed anyone who might be listening, to help her. Eventually her stomach calmed enough for her to make it next door.

Standing in front of Charles Larimore’s door, her courage failed, but before she could flee, the door opened. Charles was still wearing his suit, and he still hadn’t loosened his tie. He gestured her to a seat on the sofa and sat in the chair across from her.

He had arranged it so the sofa was brightly lit, while he sat in partial shadow. She shifted the lamp to give herself the advantage of the shadow, and faced him. Like her earlier defiance, moving the lamp was a pitiful attempt to appear strong, but at least it gave her enough sense of control to keep the nausea at bay.

He frowned but left the lamp where she’d moved it, regarding her pensively for so long, she had to clench all her muscles to keep from jumping up and running out.

Finally, he sighed and rubbed his head. “I’ve done some checking. You, Marisol and Carlito are being sought by the Nebraska authorities.”

An icy blast of dread left her trembling. Against all reason, she’d still hoped this confrontation might be about something else. But it wasn’t. And it was worse than she’d imagined. Sought by the authorities. Ayúdame, Dios. What was she going to do?

Denial, Luz Cristina. It’s not just a river in Egypt. The thought steadied her, and she had to bite her lip to prevent herself from bursting out in laughter—at herself, at fate, at Charles. But if she started laughing, she might not be able to stop. And behind the urge to laugh, tears gathered in the back of her throat.

“You want to give me a reason not to call them?” Charles said.

What on earth did he mean? Give him a reason not to call. She owned nothing, had no money, and he knew it. And no way was he demanding she sleep with him. Not after he’d made it so crystal clear he didn’t find her attractive.

Time. She had to play for time. And the only weapon she had was to go on the offense. She firmed her lips as the possibility of a plan took shape.

Charles expected Luz to be upset. Was even prepared for her to cry and had placed a box of tissues on the table next to the couch for that eventuality. What he wasn’t prepared for was fury. Or her continuing silence. But when she finally spoke, he was sorry she had.

“So how do we do this?” she said. “Do you undress me, or would you prefer I do it?”

He blinked in confusion. “Good lord, girl, what are you talking about?”

“You told me to give you a reason not to turn me in. I certainly had no difficulty translating that, and I must say, shocked innocence is not your most accomplished role.”

He opened his mouth to defend himself, but before he could, Luz pulled off her shirt—one of those ugly extra-large T-shirts that seemed to be a wardrobe staple for her. Underneath, she wore a sleeveless undershirt that made her look as vulnerable and young as Marisol.

His mouth going dry with what he assumed was panic, he reached out to stop her. “Don’t. Please. That is not what I meant.” Smooth, Larimore. Real smooth.

For the second time in as many days, a witness had got the better of him. Not only a rare experience, but given Luz’s assumptions about his intentions, an acutely uncomfortable one.

She let the shirt fall into an untidy pile in her lap, giving him a steady look while he scrambled mentally to get the conversation back on track.

He’d never done anything to give her the impression he wanted to sleep with her. He knew he hadn’t, because he didn’t want to. Sleep with her. Ergo, it followed he hadn’t given that impression, although that was beside the point here. The point he needed to get back to.

Not only was Luz out on a legal limb here, he was out there with her. He’d delayed contacting the authorities, something he could gloss over, no doubt, but the longer he delayed, the more precarious his position became.

“Please. Put your shirt on.” While she did, he set about pulling the discussion back where it needed to be. “Tell me why you ran away from your uncle.”

“He’s not my uncle.” The tone was fierce.

“But he is your mother’s brother?”

Luz shook her head. “My mother died when I was five. Papi married Mary Blair when I was nine. She raised me. I was as much hers as Marisol and Carlito, but Martin Blair is no family of mine.”

She started wringing her hands, although he doubted she realized it. She looked so forlorn, he had to struggle to remain in lawyer mode.

He leaned forward, pried her hands apart and held them firmly, ignoring his relief at finally having an excuse to touch her. “If you don’t tell me what happened, I can’t help you.”

“How do I know I can trust you?”

“Do you have any choice?”

She stared at him for a time, then shook her head. His heart twisted in pain at the sorrow in her eyes. He bit down on it. “So let’s hear it.” He released her hands because holding them was making it more difficult for him to remain objective.

Staring at her lap, Luz spoke in a lifeless tone. “Our parents were killed. In an auto accident. After the funeral, Martin came to the house. He had a woman from Children’s Services with him who was going to take Marisol and Carlito away. I was supposed to pack and have them ready the next day. Instead, I drove us all to Denver in Mami’s car.”

“So you’re saying you ran away to keep the three of you from being separated.”

Luz nodded.

“Why didn’t you petition the court to give you custody?”

“Martin said there was no money, and we couldn’t stay in our house. And the woman from Children’s Services said I wouldn’t get custody since I was underage.”

Her voice trembled with emotion, and again, his desire to comfort her almost overcame his need for the entire story.

“How old were you?”

“Nineteen.”

“And did you believe that? About the money?” She’d obviously believed she wouldn’t get custody, although he knew she would have, had she chosen to stay and fight.

Luz shook her head. “Mami and Papi always lived…not frugally, but carefully. Mami was a cardiologist, and Papi had a landscaping business.”

“How have you managed financially?” It was a question he was pretty sure he knew most of the answer to.

“I sold Mami’s car.”

Something he’d suspected, given it was no longer in evidence.

“And I got a refund of some of my expenses from Colorado College.”

That part was a surprise. It hadn’t yet occurred to him to wonder what she had been doing when her parents died.

She didn’t admit to the babysitting business, but that had to be another income source. He doubted she’d paid any taxes on the money, either.

He added it up: kidnapping, crossing state lines, selling stolen property, running an illegal daycare, possible tax fraud. Luz was a one-woman crime wave, but he understood why she’d done it, why she might believe she had no other choice.

“Papi and I…when we came to Scottsbluff, he started a lawn-mowing business. Mary Blair was his first customer. She was a doctor, and she owned a nice house. Martin claimed Papi was marrying her for her money and position. She wasn’t pretty, you see. He hurt her saying all those awful things. But she was the sweetest and…Papi and I…we loved her so much.” Luz blinked rapidly, then swiped a wrist across her eyes.

Charles, who’d seen plenty of fake tears, recognized the real thing when he saw it. In the pictures in the newspaper accompanying the Montalvos’ obits, the man had been darkly handsome while the woman had the rawboned, homely look of a prairie spinster. But her eyes had been kind.

Luz hugged herself and rocked back and forth, and he was unable to take it any longer. He abandoned the chair, moved next to her and slipped an arm around her. He discovered she was shaking.

If she was a less loving and generous person, she would have let Martin Blair arrange for Marisol and Carlito to go into foster care, finished the semester that was already paid for and then found work and taken out loans to pay for the rest of her education. It would have been no more difficult, hell, probably easier, than what she’d chosen to do instead—taking on the responsibility for her brother and sister.

Over the past few weeks, as he had gotten to know Luz, his initial negative impression had gradually been replaced, and his respect had grown. Putting together these final pieces of her story, that respect grew further.

Luz was still shivering. He pulled her onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her. She stiffened slightly then, with a sigh, leaned into him. She had the same sweet smell as Carlito. Her hair was coming loose. He eased the elastic off and slipped his fingers through satin smoothness to gently massage her scalp. He wasn’t certain of the exact moment it happened, but suddenly he wanted to kiss her.

Startled and discomfited, he lowered his head and let her hair brush across his lips. He had to be feeling this way because it had been so long. The old libido demanding its due, even though the object of that demand was someone he viewed with as much detachment as he would a gangly teenage boy.

But, his libido prodded, remember how she looked in that blue dress. That was no teenage boy.

Bad enough he hadn’t immediately reported Luz to the authorities. If that was discovered, he might as well kiss his job goodbye, but getting emotionally involved with her would compound his sin. Besides, he needed to keep his wits about him, and whenever libido entered the picture, reason took a breather.

Reluctantly, he eased Luz off his lap, but remained sitting next to her. He still didn’t have the whole story, and if he didn’t push while she was vulnerable, he might never get it. “Where were you born, Luz?”

Luz stiffened and gave him a wary look. “I’m not illegal, if that’s what you think. Papi and I became citizens.”

So, at least he wouldn’t be responsible for having her deported if he turned her in. He breathed out in relief.

She gazed directly at him. “You’re going to have to report us, aren’t you.”

Publication History

• 2008, November 04 - E-book and Kindle Release (Samhain Publishing)
• 2009, September 01 - Trade Paperback Release (Samhain Publishing)

Related Titles

• Dreams For Stones - Ann Warner, 2007 (Samhain Publishing)