Be My Love Song

Be My Love Song

By

Sable Hunter

Madeline needs a hero. She hires
an architect, Weston, to save Windswept and an escort to convince her
meddlesome sister she has a boyfriend. Unfortunately, she gets them confused. Weston,
like most heroes, will save the day. What’s he’s not expecting is to fall
hopelessly in love.

This is a work of fiction. Names,
characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s
imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living
or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Be My Love Song

All rights
reserved.

Copyright 2015 ©
Sable Hunter

Originally
Published in

Windswept:
Stories of Enduring Love

Published by Beau
Coup Publishing

http://beaucoupllcpublishing.com

Cover by JRA Stevens

For Beau Coup Publishing

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains
material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties.
Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this
book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic
or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage
and retrieval system without express written permission from the author /
publisher.

Chapter One

“I need a hero…” Madeline hummed the 1980s song, singing a
few words every now and then when she could remember them. “Holding out for a
hero till something-something.” The tune wasn’t just stuck in her head, she
really did need saving. In more ways than one. Holding out for a hero seemed
hopeless because she certainly didn’t have knights in shining armor beating
down her door.

Windswept had stood guard over Galveston Island for well
over a hundred years. Like a solitary spirit from days gone by, Madeline gazed
out at the tumultuous waters of the Gulf of Mexico from atop the widow’s walk.
The waves were angry, tossing and swelling, dashing to the shore only to rush
back out for another chance to batter the sands. Screeches of gulls sang over
the powerful constant roar of the ocean. It was never-ending, a ceaseless surge
and flow, charge and retreat of blue green waters tumbling and frothing, iced
with whitecaps that glinted in the winter sun.

The breeze whipped Madeline’s hair around her face. A
feeling of sadness caused her chest to ache. She hugged herself tightly against
the chill. How many women had paced here over the years, waiting in vain for
their lovers or their husbands to return to them? Maddie didn’t know if her
melancholy was born from empathy to their plight or from her own sad situation.
She wasn’t watching for a ship to appear over the horizon, Maddie wasn’t
waiting for a lover to sail home to her. Love wasn’t on her horizon. She had so
much love to give and nowhere to put it.

Maddie Cross’s most precious possession was her home, now a
Bed & Breakfast, an aging piece of real estate located on the west end of
Galveston Island. And now her family, the people she should’ve been able to
trust the most, were trying to take it away from her.

Voices of her guests drifted up to where she hid, needing a
few moments to herself. Valentine’s Day weekend was fast approaching and
Windswept was booked solid. Plus, her sister was coming to visit. Oh, joy.
Clutching her shawl, she enjoyed a few more moments of peace before the
wildness of the day began.

Too much was happening. Juliana Cross, her stepmother, was
attempting to strong-arm Madeline into selling Windswept to a development
company. Maddie knew the plans Beaumont Investments had for her home would not
entail refurbishment but razing. The grand old Victorian that had survived the
infamous 1900 hurricane would not withstand the ambitious plans of the wealthy
beach developer who was systematically buying up properties around the world
and turning them into generic cookie-cutter luxury hotels that could exist
anywhere there was an ample tourist trade to support them.

“Maddie! Miss Cross! I need you down here!”

Madeline smiled and shook her head. Tilly was in charge of
the front desk for the next week while Maddie dealt with her issues. Only the
biggest problem she was having—was Tilly. Leaning over the banister, she looked
down, down to the front entranceway and freaked out completely. “What are you
doing?” She stared at her assistant, who was completely surrounded by rose
bushes, unplanted rosebushes in five gallon buckets.

“I ordered roses for the rooms.” She spread her hands, her
eyes big with remorse, her blonde curls lying on her shoulder in perfect waves.
“They must have misunderstood.”

If Tilly wasn’t gorgeous, she would have a hard time in
life. “I’ll be right down.” Honestly. Reaching into the pocket of her jeans,
Madeline pulled out a phone and called the florist. “Sue, do you have roses to
spare or are you completely sold out?”

“Honey, the cupboard is bare. Why didn’t you call me
sooner?”

“I thought I had, I guess there was a mix-up.” She sighed.
“What do you have?” As she entered her private suite, Maddie’s eyes widened to
see suitcases sitting by her door. When had this happened? Morgana wasn’t
supposed to arrive for another four hours! Eek! Frantically, she glanced
around. There was no sign of her and no cloud of expensive French perfume.
Which meant her meddling half-sister was loose in Windswept and up to no good.

The soothing colors of blue and beige which were supposed to
make her private haven a sanctuary of peace and tranquility weren’t working.
Madeline picked up a seashell and thought about hurling it against the wall,
but all that would do was give her a mess to pick up. What she needed was sex.
That’s what all the talk shows suggested. When a woman was under tremendous stress
and upheaval, there was nothing better for her than multiple orgasms. Maddie
wrinkled her nose and put a hand over her eyes. Since she didn’t have a man at
her disposal, her trusty vibrator would have to do.

She listened as Sue named over various bouquet alternatives
she could choose from. Finally, she heard something that appealed to her. “Let
me have the baskets of red and white cyclamen, I think that will do just fine.”

“You got it. I’ll bring them over after lunch.”

“Thanks.” She hung up and replaced the phone in her jeans.
Pressing the elevator button, she waited the few seconds until the old faithful
contraption rattled and quaked, finally opening in her face. “Good grief!”
Instead of an empty chamber, she was met by her sultry vamp of a sister lounging
against the wall looking bored and cranky. “You’re early.”

“Thanks for the gracious welcome, Magpie.”

Maddie stepped back to let Morgana pass. “You know I hate
that nickname.”

Her sister’s wide perfect smile appeared. “Of course I do,
that’s why I use it. Besides, it fits you to a tee.” Letting her eyes glide
scathingly up Madeline’s very average body, she drawled. “Plain, known to be a
nuisance and chatters—like a magpie.” She ended with a knowing smirk.

With a huff, she defended herself and the much maligned
fowl. “I’ll have you know that magpies are reputed to be a very intelligent
species. They’re right up there with chimpanzees and dolphins. They can even
recognize themselves in a mirror!”

Morgana rolled her eyes. “Impressive, except looking in a
mirror is probably not your favorite pastime.” She slinked out to the middle of
the floor and struck a pose. “Unlike me.”

“Hold on.” Madeline ignored her sister’s thinly veiled
insult while she phoned Tilly. “Have Hector put the roses in the storage shed
next to the pool house. I’ll plant them in the east garden in a few days. I
ordered flowers for the rooms.” Maddie paused to listen to her employee
complain. “Don’t worry, the temporary girl will be here this afternoon. Just
teach her how to check people in and out and answer the phone. You can handle
everything else.” Watching her sister out of the corner of her eye, she could
see Morgana was texting someone. “Listen, I have to go. Would you have Betsy
send us up some clam chowder for lunch? Good. Thanks.”

“I’m on a diet, as well you should be,” Morgana drawled.

“I like food.” Madeline picked up the suitcases and carried
them to the spare room of her private suite. “Remember, we share a wall, so
keep your television turned down at night. I need my sleep.”

Morgana followed her. “I need my rest too. Sergio has been
wearing me out.”

“Please, spare me the sex talk.” She didn’t need to be
reminded how active her sister’s love life was, not when her own was so
lackluster. Growing up in Morgana’s shadow, she hadn’t stood a chance. Every
boy who’d shown even the remotest interest in her had taken one look at her
older sister and dropped Maddie like a hot potato. Of course, it didn’t help
that her sister had taken a perverse pleasure in luring the suitors away. It
had been Morgana’s favorite sport. One of these days…Maddie always dreamed, a
guy would come along who could see the difference between fake and genuine—one
of these days. But for now, Maddie wasn’t really trying. She had work to do, so
she just fantasized, read love stories, and dreamed. “So, why are you here,
Morgana?” She set the main valise on an ornate bench at the end of the bed and
carried the makeup case to the adjoining bathroom.

“I’m killing two birds with one stone. One of them is a
magpie.” Morgana laughed at her own joke. “Sergio is sailing in from Cancún to
take me out for Valentine’s on his yacht. I thought I’d come early and check on
you. Mother has sent me on a mission of mercy. She wants me to try and talk
some sense into you. Hugh Beaumont is very interested and he’s upped his offer,
but he won’t wait forever.” Morgana pivoted on her stiletto heels, making a
circular gesture with her well-manicured hand. “After we sell this monstrosity,
you can move back home to take care of Mother. She doesn’t like to live alone
and I am hoping to get a loft in Houston. I need more freedom.”

She didn’t bother to point out that Juliana was Morgana’s
mother, not hers, and that the society matron abhorred every moment she had to
spend with her awkward stepdaughter—namely Maddie. “Juliana doesn’t need anyone
living with her, she’s still young and has a house full of help. If you want to
move out, I think you should.” Maddie joined the other woman next to the sleigh
bed, suspicion growing. “What’s stopping you?”

“You.” Morgan raised her arms over her head and pulled her
hair up in a twist. “I need the money from my part of the inheritance.”

“Morgana, you and Mother each received several million
dollars when our father died, my main inheritance was Windswept. Why should I
give up what I love?” Even as she spoke, it hit Maddie that they had gone over
this argument so many times it was like a broken record.

“Only fifty-one percent of father’s albatross belongs to you,
the rest is mine and my mother’s. If you don’t want to sell, then buy us out at
the same price the Beaumont’s are offering.” She threw her luscious mane over
one curvaceous shoulder and turned her nose up to Maddie.

Morgana’s referring to Windswept as her father’s albatross
angered Madeline. “This home and this land is living history. I don’t
understand why you can’t care more about your heritage and less about fashion
or having a date three times a week!”

Her sister snickered. “I’ll tell you why, because I’m normal
and you are…an oddity. Several of mother’s friends think you might be a
lesbian. I told them you aren’t a lesbian, you’re not anything.”

“The term you’re looking for is asexual, which I’m not…”
Maddie couldn’t claim she was sexual at the moment, so she sought in vain for
another word. “I just haven’t had an opportunity, but I’m something,” she
stated defiantly, then giggled, realizing how inane that sounded.

Morgana didn’t argue. “You’re something all right, I’m just
not sure what.”

“Follow me.” Maddie motioned, feeling defeated. “I need
tea.”

“You need a man.”

“Yea, I was thinking that same thing earlier, but you have
to know that a ring on my finger is not a stamp of success.” Maddie insisted as
she started opening cabinet doors and taking down tea bags and cups.

“In our world, it is,” Morgana stated flatly. “Mother will
probably remarry and I fully intend to marry as soon as I finish sowing my wild
oats.” She gave Maddie a mischievous grin. “Look, Father was an eccentric. The
Cross family were island people.”

“BOI,” Maddie muttered. “As were you. Born on the island.”

“Much to my chagrin.” Morgana elegantly sat down in a chair,
frowning when Madeline plopped down in hers. “Look,” Morgana took Maddie’s
hands, doing her best to be sympathetic, “Mother and I made some unfortunate
investments in wind farms.”

“All of your money is ‘gone with the wind’?” Madeline made
the sarcastic question sound like an accusation as she poured hot water into
their cups.

“Don’t be an ass.” Morgana released Maddie’s hands when she
pulled hard. “Mr. Beaumont is offering a fortune for this antiquated piece of
driftwood. Plus…” Her sister smiled so big that Maddie’s mouth hurt just
watching. “Plus…Hugh Beaumont has agreed to come here and meet with you. You
could almost consider it a date!” She threw her hands together, clapping.
Madeline felt sick.

“I have no intention of meeting with Mr. Beaumont for a date
or any other reason.” All she could think was that the Beaumont family must
want Windswept a helluva lot.

“Oh, why not? It’s not like you can get your own dates,” she
said dryly, sipping tea.

The knowing expression on her sister’s face made Madeline
clench her fists, cutting into her own palms with her fingernails. Morgana was
so vindictive. Every time she had come on to guys Maddie brought home from
school or college came rushing back. How she’d flirted, teased, gone all out to
make sure they were enraptured with her blatant beauty and sexuality. Before
the poor men knew what had hit them, they’d been caught by Morgana—hook, line,
and sinker. Madeline couldn’t compete. Morgana was like an iced petit four
while she was a vanilla wafer.

Well, blast-it-all! She was sick of it. “Actually, I have a
boyfriend.” Hmmm. That lie came out fairly easily. While she was sitting there
trying to look self-satisfied and pleased with herself, she was panicking
inside. She and her big mouth. Making false claims that she had no way of
backing up! What was she was going to do now?

“Who is your boyfriend? What’s his name?” Her eyes narrowed,
Morgana looked extremely skeptical.

Name? Madeline racked her brain. “Uh, um…” Stumbling and
stammering, she couldn’t stick two syllables together. Her sister had a
disgustingly smug look on her face. At the moment, she couldn’t think of a
convincing name beyond John Smith or Brad Pitt—neither of which would do. The
only sensible sounding name she could bring to mind was one she’d been seeing
in emails for the past couple of days. “West Rogers. My boyfriend’s name is
Weston Rogers. He’s an architect that I asked to draw up plans to bring
Windswept up to code. The island is requiring new standards for hurricane
protection.” The false personal claim about this very real person just came
spewing out before she could stop it. In her heart, she begged Mr. Rogers’s
forgiveness for borrowing his identity. Thank God, he’d never know.