When I Dream of You: A Valentine's Day Romance

  When I Dream of You

  Marcella Swann

  © Copyright 2019 by Orléans Publishing. All rights reserved.

  It is not legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Books by Marcella Swann

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Epilogue

  Good Girl, Bad Boy Free

  About Marcella Swann

  Books by Marcella Swann

  Redeemed (A Lost Love Novella)

  Reunited (A Lost Love Novella)

  Rekindled (A Lost Love Novella)

  Reclaimed (A Lost Love Novella)

  Lost Love (The Complete Series)

  Hard Drive (Tech Titans Book 1)

  Hardwired (Tech Titans Book 2)

  Hard Copy (Tech Titans Book 3)

  Hard Bargain (Tech Titans Book 4)

  Tech Titans (The Complete Series)

  Prologue

  Aria Nolan rose from her seat in the half-darkened room, having sat through another audition by a pretty boy with big dreams, reached over to the video camera mounted on a tripod and turned it off.

  “Thanks for coming,” Aria said as she dismissed the kid. She peeked her head out the door to find Mandy, her new assistant. “How many more out there?” she asked. “And why is it so dark in here? It looks like it’s gotten darker since we started.”

  “Half a dozen. And I don’t know. I can ask someone. Call facilities. Do you want to take a break or reschedule them?”

  Aria glanced at her watch. She’d been at it for almost five hours, on the hunt to find a sexy new face for an HBO drama that was set to begin shooting in the spring. She slumped. Her shoulders felt heavy and her stomach growled, but the showrunner was hot to get the key roles cast. They were already behind schedule. She needed to find some callbacks for the following week when the producer was going to be in town to personally sit in on the auditions.

  She shook her head.

  “Send another one in.” She tried to smile. The young woman nodded and dashed off. “And call facilities,” she called out but Mandy was gone. Aria walked back to her seat and jotted down some notes. Damn it, why is it so dark in here? She looked at the headshot. He was tall, brown hair, a smile that would certainly have some women weak in the knees. He was cute and typical. He was more boy than man—not so much as a stray whisker— but he was definitely cute. He could work. Maybe. No way. Snap out of it. He wasn’t right and she knew it. Call it a casting director’s sixth sense.

  At that moment, a young man walked in. He looked similar to the guy before. She sighed, half in disappointment and half in hopes that this guy possessed a little more personality—and a lot more talent. “Hi, I’m Aria Nolan. State your name and a little of your background for the camera.”

  She turned to the camera and clicked it on. Sifting through the paperwork on the table, she fished out his headshot and resume.

  “My name is Brandon,” he said, peering in the darkened room where Aria sat, “and I believe that I would be perfect for the part of Dexter. He is an alpha male and commands attention and respect. He has a presence that I could make real on camera. I have experience with that, as well.”

  “OK. What’ve you been in?” Aria asked, poising her pen to take notes.

  “I starred in a theater production of Oklahoma and I was Captain Von Trapp in my high school production of The Sound of Music.”

  She didn’t want to laugh, but come on. This was an HBO drama—the big time. “Have you done anything that I would have seen on television?”

  He thought about it and then looked back into the camera. “When I was five, I appeared in a commercial for Kellogg’s Frosted Flakes.”

  She rolled her eyes; she couldn’t help it. “Brandon, I appreciate you coming in, but we’re looking for a lead who’s gonna be bankable, who could give Robert Pattinson a run for his money. You know what I’m saying?”

  “And that’s me,” he shot back. “Sure, I haven’t had the opportunities, but I’m making my own opportunity right here. Where I come from, you got to fight for everything. Just give me a chance and you won’t be disappointed. I’ve waited all day for this moment and I’m not leaving now. Go big or go home.”

  That was what Aria wanted to hear. She nodded, a smile peeking out. “All right. Good enough. Grab the script and start on page four with Dexter’s lines there at the top.”

  He grinned and eagerly reached for the script. The minute he opened his mouth he captivated her. She watched him reading the lines and couldn’t tear her eyes away from him until she told him he could stop.

  It was sexy as hell. He had something. He was different.

  He looked up at her and she glanced down at the paper where she had his name. She quickly wrote down, the best audition of the day, then looked up at him again. “Have you left another copy of your headshot and resume at the front desk?”

  He nodded.

  “OK then. You will most likely hear back from us later this week or early next to come in for a second audition.”

  “I told you,” he said, and she saw that certain something again, but he quickly throttled it. “I mean, really? Great.”

  “That was good,” Aria said, “but I sense that you, Brandon, already appreciate that.”

  He nodded. “Thank you. Have a good evening.” As he began to step toward the door, he stopped. “I know it’s late and you’ve probably been at it all day, so I’m happy to hang out in the lobby and buy you dinner after you’re all done here.”

  Turning off the camera, she processed his offer for a beat or two, then walked with him to the door. “Brandon, how old are you?”

  “I’m 20 but I can play older.”

  “Yeah, for sure. I can tell. I have a feeling that we’re going to see you again real soon, but if you’re going to be a player—that kind of player—keep that shit out of the office.”

  He bowed his head. “Yes, Ma’am.”

  She opened the door and he brushed past her and headed down the hall. She found herself staring at him as he walked away. She half admired the boldness it took to actually make a pass at her. Unbelievable. She liked his slim swimmer’s build and the perfect curvature of his butt. For a moment, it struck her how attractive he was and the power he conveyed on camera, bicep muscles or no. Her stomach tightened and she felt a yearning, a desire for physical intimacy that seemed to overtake her more and more these days.

  Mandy came up the hallway and before she could reach her, Aria told her to reschedule the few remaining auditions. It was good karma to quit while they were ahead.

  Aria gathered her things. The moment she ste
pped out of the audition room, she spotted a guy sitting in a chair against the wall. He looked up and smiled, then jumped up from the chair. She went to move past him. “Aria Nolan?” She kept on walking and he proceeded to follow after her. “How are you doing this evening?” he asked.

  “Doing well, thanks,” she said, barely making eye contact.

  “That’s great to hear. I want you to know that it would be a great honor to work with you. Doesn’t even matter to me how small the part.”

  She stopped walking and glanced at him. She tilted her head to try to gauge whether she had ever seen the guy before, but after a while, all the wannabes started to look the same. His smile widened as she gazed at him. “Have you auditioned for me before? And how did you get in here, by the way?”

  “Oh, no. I’ve never auditioned for you. That’s why I’m here. I want to ask you to consider giving me a shot.” He opened up a folder and pulled out his headshot. “Here’s my headshot and resume,” as held it out to her and flipped it over. She looked down at his resume. As she tried to make out some of the information, she could feel the guy checking out her body. “Ms. Nolan, may I say how beautiful you are,” he said. “I read in the trades that you started out as an actress and I can see why.”

  She looked up, fighting the urge to roll her eyes twice in one day.

  “Turn your headshot in at the front desk,” she said. Without taking his resume or giving him much more than a second glance, she turned and headed back toward her office.

  “Thank you,” he blurted out.

  Every pretty boy in L.A. who could read Variety or the Hollywood Reporter online knew what he had to do. Get in front of Aria Nolan. She could appreciate that. She’d been there, too, as an ingenue in the city of dreams, but these guys were getting bolder, more aggressive. And what was it with the flirting? When did that become a thing?

  Am I looking that desperate?

  Hollywood had always been Sodom and Gomorrah and Aria was no prude but did these guys really think they could bat their baby blues and flash their pearly whites and get their way?

  She stopped and turned toward the guy.

  “And let me give you a few words of advice.”

  He turned back around, a broad smile cresting over his lips. “That would be awesome.”

  She allowed a slight laugh to escape her lips, almost forgetting to be professional. “Get yourself an agent. You’re young and most likely lack the experience that we look for, but with an agent, you’ll have more opportunities to get your name out there than these guerilla tactics. It’s a tough business and every young actor or actress wants to get their shot, but you have to work for it—pay your dues. It’s the only way; sneaking into auditions isn’t gonna cut it.”

  She then turned and walked away, exhausted from her day and from the futility of rendering advice she knew would go nowhere. Dragging into her office, she closed the door and heaved as she fell into her chair.

  There was so much work to do but a sudden thought of her high school boyfriend flashed across her mind. She hadn’t thought about him in ten years, but the movie in her head had them together in his car, making out like the two teenagers they were. It was sweet and sexy and all so simple then. So new. So exciting.

  What the hell?

  She snapped back, exhaling and focusing on the array of gorgeous men whose headshots spread out before her like a deck of cards. As she examined all the men in those headshots, she couldn’t help but feel a surge move through her body.

  Get a grip, Nolan.

  She closed her eyes.

  I got to find a man, fall in love, have crazy, sweaty sex and maybe, just maybe, start a family.

  THE MUSIC WAS BLARING at The Lion’s Den. Devon Prescott made his way around the club, his long, muscular line cast even more elegantly in his Brioni slim-fit suit. He didn’t so much as walk around the place as saunter, so graceful and predatory were his movements.

  He was an Adonis, someone you couldn’t help but stare at even in the crowded, thumping confines of a night club that drew plenty of beautiful people.

  He adjusted his Ferragamo cuff links as he stopped to order a drink at the bar and survey the field. This was a party after all. A celebration. He ordered his go-to Old Fashioned suffused with Four Roses Kentucky Straight. He sipped his drink, enjoying the fragrance of the bourbon.

  It was a beautiful moment and it felt all the sweeter to Devon as the finest whiskey on the planet swirled around his mouth.

  He had spent the past two years taking his real estate development firm to new heights while negotiating the largest merger in L.A. real estate history. Prescott|Day, the company founded by his grandfather with a single condo development in the San Fernando Valley, was now about to merge with the national commercial brokerage, TransWest Corp. In fact, it had already happened. At 3 p.m. that afternoon, the papers had been signed.

  It was huge. His real estate development firm had gone from a regional player to a company with a national profile. Devon couldn’t help but smile as he spotted a beautiful brunette making direct eye contact. Even as the buzz from the bourbon began to fill him, he knew at that moment that he’d have her tonight.

  But before pleasure, he let his mind drift back to business—to appreciating what he had accomplished. He knew the merger was only in name. What it was in reality was a takeover. Prescott|Day had walked away with TransWest instead of the other way around because, well, Devon Prescott was not only gorgeous, he was a viper in a tailored suit. His soft, hazel green eyes hid a towering determination and ambition. Ruthless, cunning and domineering in the board room, he had outwilled and outmaneuvered a C-suite full of gray old men and walked away with a company valued ten times his own firm.

  The only concession he had made was that his name would come second. The “merged” company would now be known as TransWest Prescott Day. His grandfather had taught him well. “Always let your opponent save face,” he had counselled him. “Never underestimate the power of humiliation to create lifelong enemies. And never trust anyone until they prove themselves to you.”

  So it was that on this night a triumphant Devon Prescott, who at 38 was already prodigiously wealthy and with a stroke of a pen earlier that day had increased his net worth exponentially, downed the rest of his drink and readied himself to go on offense. The night wasn’t done—nowhere near. He had already made his rounds to all his employees and senior staff. The new executives he was inheriting from TransWest where there, too. He’d spent most of his time with them as partying at the hottest club in L.A. was a total culture shock to those button-down guys.

  But they’d be fine. On Monday morning, the partying would be in the rear view and he’d need them to bring their discipline to making the merger work and the company soar.

  The business he had in mind now was of a different sort. He looked around and spotted her again. Clad in a strapless little black dress, she was as slim as a model and even more beautiful. She wore diamond studded hoop earrings that sparkled in the flickering lights of the nightclub.

  She smiled and he nodded. He began to move toward her when someone bumped into him.

  “Hey, Mr. Prescott,” the guy said, looking up to him.

  Devon looked for the woman for a second and then turned back to size up the guy.

  “Chris,” Devon said, gaining his bearings. “How are you?”

  Chris worked at Prescott|Day. He ran the mailroom.

  “Great,” Chris said, shouting above the music. “Thanks for inviting me to the celebration. I’m so excited about the new company.”

  “No problem,” said Devon, half distracted. He spotted the woman watching him. She looked to be about 5’ 10” with legs that were perfectly sculpted, and a smile that was strong but not overpowering. It was her eyes, though, that seemed to draw him in. They were dark and betrayed a yearning. They matched the color of her hair. Devon turned impatient. “Excuse me, Chris,” Devon said as he started to move past him. Just then Chris gained his voice.


  “I wanted you to meet my boyfriend, Tyler,” he blurted out. That caught Devon’s attention and he turned to where Chris stood. There was a man standing next to him and Devon hadn’t even noticed him.

  “Hello. Pleasure,” Devon said, reaching out and Tyler shook his hand.

  “Hi. It’s so great to meet you. Chris has told me a lot about you.”

  Devon smiled. “Is that so?” He cast a glance toward Chris, whose face turned a sheet of red.

  “All good,” he said, choking out the words.

  “Good to know,” Devon said. He turned back to Tyler. “Hope you’re enjoying the party.”

  “Very much so. Thanks.”

  Devon nodded slightly. He was vaguely surprised that Chris was gay. But it wasn’t something that would readily come up in conversation and there were two hundred and fifty employees at Prescott, a number that would triple with the merger.

  “Glad to hear it,” Devon said. “Now, if you gentleman will excuse me.”

  He cleared his throat. “It was great meeting you, Tyler. You both have a good rest of your night.” With that, he turned away and made his way to his next conquest.

  He spotted her again amid the throng. He walked directly to her as the music blared and bodies of all types swayed to the rhythm. There was no hitch in his movements. In one graceful motion, he unbuttoned his suit coat and walked to within inches of her. She stood as he approached, her eyes growing wide.

  He reached for and grabbed her hand and proceeded to lead her to a far-off hallway near the back of the club. He settled on a darkened spot against the wall where he let go and raised his hand to her face. He grazed the back of his fingers against the contours of her cheek. Her breathing intensified.

  His eyes were unsparing in drawing her in. He ran his hand through her hair and then grabbed it in a fist, pulling her head back under his firm control. She began to say something but he pressed his index finger of his other hand to her lips.

  Her eyes revealed a desperation, a yearning desire. Firmly in his grasp, he drew her face toward him and kissed her. It was enveloping and feral. His control was hypnotic and animalistic. It was almost as if all of it was choreographed and he knew the moves in ways she didn’t.