Reluctant to Love Read online

  Reluctant to Love

  Rebecca Gallo

  Copyright © 2020 by Rebecca Gallo

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover Design: Cover Me Darling, LLC.

  Created with Vellum

  Dear Readers,

  Do you believe in destiny? Or do you believe you drive your own fate when it comes to matters of the heart?

  The idea for the Written in the Stars series came about one afternoon as I was thinking about how intertwined we are with the universe and the cosmos—we’re made of stardust, after all. It got me thinking about astrology, and whether something as celestial as our Zodiac signs influenced how we behave in love. Some may call it pseudoscience, while others use their horoscopes daily to make major life, love, and career decisions.

  That’s how this series was born!

  Twelve months. Twelve wickedly talented romance authors. All coming together to answer the age-old question—Does your horoscope decide your fate in love?

  You’ll have to decide for yourself as you binge-read your way through twelve deliciously sexy and deeply romantic stand-alone novellas—one for each Zodiac sign. I can’t wait to start this journey with you. Personally? I think it was written in the stars!

  XO,

  C.M. Albert

  P.S. Please join us in our fun and interactive Written in the Stars readers’ group at https://www.facebook.com/groups/writteninthestarsbooks where we discuss all things horoscope and love related!

  Contents

  1. Eleanor

  2. Roderick

  3. Eleanor

  4. Roderick

  5. Eleanor

  6. Roderick

  7. Eleanor

  8. Roderick

  9. Eleanor

  10. Roderick

  11. Eleanor

  12. Roderick

  13. Eleanor

  14. Roderick

  15. Eleanor

  16. Roderick

  17. Eleanor

  18. Roderick

  19. Eleanor

  20. Roderick

  21. Eleanor

  Epilogue

  Bittersweet Love by QB Tyler

  Written in the Stars Series

  Also by Rebecca Gallo

  About the Author

  “I will look on the stars and look on thee, and read the page of thy destiny.”

  - Letitia Elizabeth Landon

  1

  Eleanor

  The moment I step into the hotel lobby, Roderick Payne’s face greets me. It’s larger than life on a giant vinyl banner and I grit my teeth as I pass by, resisting the urge to punch it.

  He’s public enemy number one in my book and I used to be in love with him.

  Even after a few years, he’s still a handsome devil. Shoulder length auburn hair, piercing green eyes and a perfect white smile. He shouldn’t look that good.

  I lift my chin and take in a deep breath. That was the past; this is the present.

  World of Books is a huge convention. My chances of running into him are slim to none. Thousands of people attend every year. Besides, I didn’t have enough money to pay for the fancy dinner where he is the keynote speaker.

  My eyes slide over to the banner. Dammit! Why does he look so goddamn sexy with a beard?

  I shake my head and focus on what I need to do. Check in. I’m arriving much later than anticipated because of a massive flight delay. All I want to do is get to my room and sleep.

  When the front desk agent looks up, I approach the desk to tell her I’m checking in.

  “What’s the name on the reservation?” The agent, Becca, asks.

  “Eleanor Jessup.”

  Her fingers fly across the keyboard in front of her and her brow crinkles slightly. “You’re checking in very late,” she says.

  “Yes, I know. My flight was severely delayed. I tried calling but couldn’t get through.”

  “Unfortunately, Ms. Jessup, your room is no longer available,” Becca informs me with a frown.

  “How is that possible? I made the reservation six months ago. I paid a deposit.”

  “Since we are hosting World of Books this year, there is a high demand for rooms. When you did not check-in, your room was released to other guests who were waiting for something to open up.”

  “But that’s not fair! You charged my credit card two-hundred-and-fifty-dollars!”

  Her lips form a tight line. “Since you didn’t cancel in time, you were still charged for a night’s stay whether you show up or not.”

  “For a room I don’t even get to use?”

  “That’s right.

  “Well, are there any other rooms available?” My cheeks burn with anxiety and my heart pounds in my chest. This cannot be happening. In two days, I have a meeting with an agent; a meeting that took me a year of querying to get.

  I close my eyes and cross my fingers. Please let something be available. I’ll take any room, even if it’s the penthouse. My credit cards are maxed out and my bank account is nearly zero, but I have to be at this convention.

  I look up, hopeful Becca has good news, but she doesn’t. Her frown only deepens as her fingers tap-tap-tap along the keyboard. She hums, tilts her head from side-to-side and then looks up at me. “I do apologize, Ms. Jessup, but we are completely booked.”

  “What about other hotels in the area?”

  “I can check for you,” she offers and I nod my head. After a few minutes, she glances my way. “The closest hotel with any availability is ten miles away.”

  “Will I be refunded the two-hundred-fifty-dollars?” I can make staying so far away work if the money is returned because I’ll easily be spending that in cab fare.

  “Unfortunately, no. All deposits are non-refundable.”

  “But my flight was delayed.”

  “Again, I apologize but it’s our company policy—”

  “Becca, I really don’t want to hear another one of your placating phrases about company policy. All I want is my goddamn hotel room and if you can’t give me that, then I want my money back and if you’re incapable of doing that, then I want to talk to your fucking manager!”

  “What’s the problem?” The masculine voice is familiar and Becca and I both turn our heads at the same time.

  Public enemy number one is standing right in front of me looking like sin in a slim cut black suit. The white button down he’s wearing is open at the neck and his hair is perfectly tousled.

  And I look like something the cat dragged in from the backyard.

  Roderick steps forward and leans his arm on the granite counter of the front desk. “Hey, Ellie,” he says with a smile. “Is there a problem?”

  I open my mouth to speak but words escape me. All that comes out are stuttered phrases. He places his large hand on my shoulder; it’s warm and heavy and fucking magical because it calms me instantly.

  “Start over, sweets. Tell me what the problem is.” He removes his hand and also the spell he temporarily cast over me. I glance over at Becca who’s still gawping.

  “There’s no problem,” I lie. “They gave away my room and Becca was just helping me find another at a hotel nearby.”

  “You’re attending World of Books?”

  “Yes,” I answer cautiously. “I’m meeting with an agent in two days.”

  “Ellie, that’s fantastic!” He wraps his arms around me, lifts me from my feet and twirls me.

  I place my hands firmly on his chest and push him away once he sets me down. “What are you doing, Roderick?”

&nb
sp; But he steamrolls me. He walks over to Becca and the two of them talk conspiratorially before he turns back to face me. “All set, sweets. You can share my room.”

  “No,” I say firmly.

  “Ellie, don’t be stubborn. You have to stay here.”

  “What do you think you’re doing, Payne?” I ask through gritted teeth. “I am not sharing a room with you!”

  Roderick takes a step toward me and grips my elbow firmly. He leads me away from the front desk. “Eleanor, let me help you. Please.” My mouth pops open, ready to protest but he holds up a hand. “Put your hostilities away. I’m staying in a suite. It’s so large, you’ll never have to see me… unless you want to.”

  I growl with frustration. For a year, I worked so hard sending query letter after query letter to agents and publishers. Most of them didn’t bother with a response. It was like I was persona non grata. Until one agent took a chance and offered to meet with me at World of Books.

  I begged, borrowed, and stole every cent to get here and now, because of circumstances beyond my control, my hotel room is gone and Roderick Payne, the last man on Earth I want to see, is offering me half of his room.

  “I can’t afford to pay for half of a suite,” I tell him.

  “You don’t have to. My publisher is paying for it.”

  I roll my eyes. “Of course they are.”

  Roderick reaches out to grab the handle of my suitcase. “You look tired,” he says softly. “Come on, Ellie.”

  “Stop calling me that,” I growl. I hate he still uses nicknames, like we’re still friends. I hate how easy it is for him to just slip back into familiar habits while I’m on edge.

  Roderick Payne devastated me and it took years for my heart to finally begin to heal. Those wounds are still raw and I’m not ready to face him, but I can’t refuse his offer either.

  “Fine, but only if you stop calling me Payne.”

  “But it’s so fitting,” I snap.

  He starts walking toward the bank of elevators, dragging my suitcase behind him. My eyes flick to his left hand. “You’re not wearing your wedding ring.”

  “Famke and I got divorced. Didn’t you know that?”

  “No,” I lie. Of course I knew. My life was irrevocably changed because of Roderick. How could I not know?

  “She filed…right after everything happened.”

  “I’m sorry,” I respond because what else am I supposed to say? You deserved it? Good, I’m glad?

  “Me too,” he says but from the way he’s looking at me, I can tell he’s not sorry his marriage ended. His green eyes swim with regret and I’m forced to look away.

  There is silence between us as we wait for the elevator to arrive and when it finally does, I step on first. The silence remains as we travel up to the tenth floor and step off. It hangs there like a heavy curtain between us as I follow him down the long corridor to the very end.

  He pulls a swipe card from his pocket and waves it over the electronic lock until it clicks. He shoves it open and lets me pass first.

  “Eleanor,” he says, his voice low and gravelly.

  I stop in the foyer and turn to face him. His jaw ticks as he searches for the words to say. “I meant it. I’m sorry.”

  I don’t respond because, how could I? He owes me more than just an apology. He owes me an explanation. He made me look foolish and forced me to sacrifice so many of my dreams.

  “I’m sure you are.”

  For the last few years, I’ve been an impenetrable fortress and I’m not about to let Roderick shake my foundation.

  Fool me once because there won’t be a second time.

  2

  Roderick

  Her words cut me deep but I deserve them and so much more.

  “You look tired so I’ll just show you where the bedroom is,” I tell her.

  She follows me to the second bedroom and I finally let go of her suitcase. She doesn’t meet my eye, just grabs the handle and slips into the room, shutting the door firmly behind her.

  I meant it when I told her the suite was large enough for the two of us. It’s a little over-the-top but when I saw her in the lobby, her face red with anger and embarrassment, I silently thanked my publishers for their insane generosity.

  Honestly, I didn’t think she’d accept my offer. I expected her to flat out refuse but maybe this is fate’s way of giving us a second chance.

  There are so many things I need to tell her. I have sins to atone for and I’ll perform any penance she demands.

  For a long while, I stand there in front of the closed bedroom door, staring at it until at last, I turn on my heel and retreat to the opposite side of the suite.

  Some people are unforgettable and then there’s Eleanor Jessup. She transcends that term.

  Every memory I’ve conjured of her over the years doesn’t do justice to having the real thing right in front of me.

  She’s still so unbelievably beautiful. The moment I spotted her in the lobby, my heart sputtered back to life. Just the sight of her auburn hair and icy blue eyes was enough to give me hope.

  I can win her back.

  As we made our way up to my room, a thousand questions were on the tip of my tongue, but I kept my distance. There’s no need to push her, to scare her away.

  I undress, careful to place my suit back on the hangers and then shower quickly. Being a best-selling author has its perks and privileges, but I also have to pay my dues. Tonight’s dinner with my publisher and several book distributors was exhausting but now, I’m wide awake and it’s all because of Eleanor.

  Several times, I stop myself from throwing open my bedroom door and banging hers down. I ache to have her in my arms again and my mouth waters at the thought of kissing her after so many years a part.

  None of that can happen though until I explain myself. Until I explain why I lied to her for so long.

  The only problem? She might not let me.

  I channel my energy into writing because I’m on deadline. This fifth and final book in my fantasy series based the a medieval French story of Tristan and Yseut has been the hardest to write. I’ve been struggling to put an end to such an epic story of love and betrayal.

  Maybe it’s because of Eleanor, because things between us were left unfinished.

  I read the last chapter I wrote and then look at my outline for the next chapter. I know what should come next but it doesn’t feel right.

  I slam my laptop closed and toss it aside. My gaze flicks to the door. Fuck it.

  For years, I wrestled with myself for just letting her go without a fight. There were so many nights when I just wanted to get in my car and drive to wherever she was, to beg her for a second chance. Now that she’s so close, I can’t let a single moment pass without at least trying.

  I push myself off the bed and stalk my way to the door. My hand overs briefly over the handle before I yank the door open and stomp across the suite, ready to bang it down.

  “Go away,” she says in response to my persistent knocking.

  “I can’t,” I reply. “I need to talk to you.”

  “You had your chance four years ago.” Her voice is muffled through the closed door but at least she’s talking.

  “I know and I blew it. You deserve an explanation and I’m finally ready to give you one.”

  The doorknob rattles as she opens the door. “You’re finally ready? What makes now any different than four years ago?”

  I step back, blown away by the woman standing in front of me. She’s fresh faced, her skin pink and glowing, and she’s changed into a pair of black shorts and a thin, white camisole. I can see the shadow of dark ink along her rib cage and abdomen.

  “I’ve wanted a second chance for so long and I feel like the universe is telling me it’s time to ask for one.”

  “Fuck the universe,” she says tersely before slamming the door shut.

  I laugh out loud. “I’m not going to give up, sweets,” I call out, hoping she’ll reappear.

  �
�I shouldn’t have lied to you,” I say. This isn’t the ideal situation but I’m pretty sure Eleanor is a captive audience on the other side of the door. “I should have been honest with you the moment I hired you to be my ghostwriter. You were Famke’s intern which you should have known before you agreed to work with me. That was my first mistake.”

  My ego prevented me from telling Eleanor the truth when she responded to my post about a ghostwriter. I was married to the powerful senior editor of Dreammedia Press, and yet I struggled to get my foot in the door anywhere. It was embarrassing. No matter who I hired to help me write my debut novel, I couldn’t tell them who my wife was or where she worked.

  “I should have told you about Famke after our first kiss,” I continue. Falling in love with Eleanor was unexpected and at the time, unknown territory I didn’t understand how to navigate. “That was my second mistake.”

  I take a tentative step toward her door and place my palm flat against it. “I made so many mistakes with you, Ellie. But falling in love with you wasn’t one of them.”

  From the other side, I hear a soft sound, like sniffling. Is she crying? I try the handle, shaking it but it’s locked.

  “You have to let me tell you this face-to-face,” I beg. “You have to let me look you in the eye and tell you I was wrong.”

  The door opens slowly, and Eleanor is standing there with red eyes and tear-stained cheeks. I rush forward but she holds up a hand, stopping me in my tracks, reminding me I no longer have the right to take her into my arms and kiss her tears away.

  “I’m really tired Roderick,” she says softly. “I’d really just like to go to bed.”