Authors: Samantha James
The Unsung Hero
THE
UNSUNG HERO
Published by
Sandra
Kleinschmit at Smashwords
Copyright
2012 by Sandra Kleinschmit
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places,
and incidents
are products of the author's imagination or are
used
fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any
resemblance
to actual events, or persons, living or dead, is
entirely coincidental.
IN THE BOOK OF LOVE
Samantha Monroe planned to spend the summer swept
away in a world of fantasy created by her favorite romance author.
Then one day a real live fantasy man appeared before her on the
beach.
Jason Armstrong seemed to have stepped from the pages
of
Love's Sweet Bondage
. When he revealed himself as her
beloved romance writer "Cathryn James", Samantha knew she was in
trouble. Jason's cavalier attitude toward love was nothing like
what she expected from a writer of romances. Samantha believed in
love. Was it possible that even though Jason could capture a
woman's most intimate fantasies on paper, he himself had no heart
to lose?
Dear Readers,
It is with very great joy that I present to
you, in e-book format, one of my earliest contemporary books
The
Unsung Hero.
When I originally wrote it as Sandra Kleinschmit,
I called it
Heaven on Earth.
The one thing that I always
wished I could change was the title, so when I had the chance to do
it, of course I did it!
The Unsung Hero
also has a beautiful
new cover, and I'm tremendously excited to share this story with
you. I had a great time rediscovering my lead characters, Jason and
Samantha, and leading them into their journey together in love.
Samantha and Jason have such fiery chemistry, and I'm so glad to be
able to share them with you.
As a writer, my goal is to entertain you. To
make you laugh and cry and feel every emotion that comes with the
magic of falling in love. They came alive in my heart . . . as I
hope they will in yours.
All my best,
Samantha J.
Chapter 1
Samantha Monroe cast a furtive glance in
both directions before leaning down to rummage through the yellow
canvas bag at her side. Sunglasses, sun block, a neatly folded
beach towel... oh, yes, there it was. A smile of anticipation
creased her lips as she lifted the thick paperback from her bag and
placed it on her upraised knees. The beach was nearly deserted, but
Samantha was taking no chances. Her own eyes had widened
considerably when she had spotted the two figures so intimately
entwined on the book's cover, but she couldn't resist. Another
romance by Cathryn James. It had been on the bestseller list for
weeks already, and it was bound to be heaven.
Half an hour later Samantha was oblivious to
anything and everything around her, her thoughts swept away to
another time, another place. Moonlight illuminated the star-studded
sky. A midnight breeze rippled through the branches of a palm tree.
No longer was she Samantha, but Sabrina, alone on a lush tropical
isle, alone with the man of her dreams. And he was all that she
wanted... and more. Her eyes swept longingly upward to Marshall's
face, lingering on the naked lines of his bronzed body. His eyes,
those strange golden eyes, mirrored the hot naked desire scalding
her veins. Soon... soon she would be carried away to a place she
had never been before.
With a sigh born of envy, Samantha Monroe
rested the paperback novel on slim bare thighs and gazed dreamily
toward the sapphire-blue waters of the Pacific. Foam-flecked waves
lapped gently on the sandy shoreline.
She could ask for little more on this
beautiful June day. Today was the beginning of a well-deserved
summer vacation from her teaching job at Neskowin Elementary
School. It was warm and sunny, she had the beach to herself, and,
as usual in her rare and precious spare time, she was totally
engrossed in the latest historical romance by her favorite
author.
A slim hand reached up to
smooth a few glossy brown hairs that escaped her ponytail, woven
into a loose knot on the back of her head. What would it be like,
Samantha reflected musingly in a half serious, half jesting mood,
to be Sabrina, the heroine of
Love's Sweet
Bondage--
to be swept off her feet by a man
like Marshall, to eagerly experience all the wondrous pleasures of
love.
Her eyes became reflective at the thought.
She had been swept off her feet once, and it might indeed have been
a woman's ultimate fantasy--had it lasted. Yes, she and Alan had
eyes only for each other, and just as it was in her favorite
romance, nothing existed save their love. But unfortunately,
juggling life and love was something to which neither one of them
had given any thought. She and Alan had been barely twenty, maybe
too young to cope with the added pressure that love and marriage
had put on their lives. She smiled rather wistfully. No, she would
never again be quite so innocent or quite so blind, but it was
still nice to pretend, and to hope... although it really was a
shame that a man like Marshall Devereau existed only in a woman's
imagination. Eagerly she turned her attention to the book
again.
... Marshall reached out to draw Sabrina's
soft curves to his own lean hardness, his breath warm upon her
cheeks as he sought her mouth with gentle hunger. She trembled
against him—afraid, excited, somehow aware that no other man would
ever exist for her after this night, but above all, longing
desperately to learn the hidden secrets only he could teach
her...
"Has the lady lost her virtue yet?" So deeply
absorbed was Samantha in envisioning the book's rapidly unfolding
love scene that she nearly leaped toward the sky at the intrusive
sound of the deep male voice. Unfortunately, her old and rather
rickety chaise lounge took exception to the jarring motion. The
next instant Samantha found herself deposited on her bottom in the
sand, long legs atangle and her chair in a heap beside her.
Propping herself on one hand, she focused
her startled gaze on a set of bare toes that paved the way to a
pair of long muscular legs sprinkled with a fine sheen of masculine
dark hairs. And what a pair of legs they were! She swallowed,
vaguely aware of how ridiculous she must look, but conscious of a
strange curling sensation in the pit of her stomach. Her eyes
traveled slowly upward over a strongly muscled chest liberally
covered with a mat of dark wiry curls to the man's face.
"I've had a few women fall for me—" the soft
laughter in the gentle tone completely slipped by Samantha, whose
eyes were huge as saucers "—but never quite so hard." When this
brought no response from her, the man gave a distinctly audible
sigh. "Here, let me help you up."
A hand much larger than her own effortlessly
raised her from the sand, but once on her feet, Samantha still
couldn't take her eyes off the man. Again her eyes roamed over the
stranger's features with a look of stunned surprise.
It was Marshall Devereau,
the hero of
Love's Sweet
Bondage
, come to life. Except, unlike
Marshall in the scene still vivid in her mind's eye, he wasn't
naked--at least not quite. This man wore a pair of swim trunks, but
they rode so low that the creases of his lips scarcely hid his . .
.
Rats. What the evil was wrong with her? This
man bore little resemblance to the man depicted on the paperback's
evocative cover, but he looked exactly as she, Samantha Monroe, had
conjured him up in her mind—-the same dark unruly brown hair, long
straight nose and firmly chiseled lips.
Compelling, that's what he was, exactly the
way the hero was so often described in her novels. And for the
first time she knew exactly what the word meant. She caught her
breath in mingled wonder and amazement.
"Hey, are you okay?"
At the glimmer of concern reflected both in
his warm cocoa-brown eyes and smooth low voice, Samantha snapped
out of her trance--a little.
She still couldn't take her eyes from his
face. How many times had she seen those ruggedly sculpted features
in her mind? Was he real? Or--heaven forbid!--an illusion? All she
could manage was a shaky, "No, I—I'm fine."
"You're sure?" Warm hands skimmed the smooth
bare skin of her upper arms in concerned exploration, sending a
torrent of electricity vibrating through her. The man's eyes
lowered to take in her skimpily clothed body. Suddenly she was
acutely aware that, clad in a tiny black knit bikini, she was
attired no more decently than he was.
"Yes." Her tone was breathless, but somehow
she couldn't help herself. "Really, I'm fine."
"Good." He smiled, displaying a row of even
white teeth, and Samantha felt as if a thousand tiny lights had
exploded inside her. "Now," he said, his tone light, "since that's
settled, will you tell me something?"
"S-sure." She wanted desperately to tear her
eyes away from his, but there was something almost mesmerizing in
those deep brown depths.
"Am
I
all right?"
Slender arched brows drew together over
Samantha's deep blue eyes as she searched his face. "I think so."
Her eyes were confused as they again met his. "Why do you ask?"
One corner of his mouth tipped upward in an
amused smile and one dark eyebrow arched . . . well, she couldn't
help it. It arched roguishly. "The way you were looking at me I
was beginning to wonder if I'd suddenly sprouted a nose like
Pinocchio or a third eye in the middle of my forehead—or maybe
even both."
An answering yet tentative
smile touched Samantha's lips, but she dropped her lashes for a
moment, realizing she was still staring. Then she answered lightly,
"No, you look—"
perfect
was the word that immediately came to mind, but
she could hardly say that "--fine," she finished hastily. This
behavior was a far cry from her usual calm demeanor, and for some
reason she felt compelled to explain. "You just... startled me.
This beach is rather secluded and I wasn't really expecting
anyone."
Even to her own ears this sounded inadequate
and not entirely believable, but the man did a creditable job of
hiding his reaction. He dropped his hands from her bare shoulders
and his gaze sharpened for a moment.
"Have we met before?"
Samantha shook her head.
"No, I'm sure we haven't." But a voice inside reminded her that
she'd dreamed of a man like him,
exactly
like him, each and every time
she picked up one of her beloved romances.
Their eyes met and she felt a sudden wave of
heat burn through her veins as he added softly, "I didn't think so.
I wouldn't have forgotten you if we had."
He turned away and righted her chaise, then
picked up her paperback from the sand, brushing a few tiny grains
off the cover before handing it back to her. Samantha accepted it
gingerly, wondering a little at the sudden gleam in his eyes. Was
he laughing at her? Rather uneasily she seated herself once
again.
"You don't mind a little company, do
you?"
At the sound of his voice she turned her head
to find him already laying out a large beach towel on the sand, not
more than a yard away from her. His shadow fell across her as she
regarded him for a moment, wondering what he would say if she told
him to get lost. But that was the last thing she wanted at the
moment.
