Prologue

Brooke sat at her desk rubbing her eyes. She was unbelievably tired. So much had happened in the last months. She sighed. She thought she would at last find a happy ending in her love life. But, considering the chain of events she'd just endured, she wondered if that could ever be. She shuddered remembering the horrible decision she made to take Thorne those papers to Big Bear that night. Tears pooled as she wished for perhaps the thousandth time that she had just dropped that package at Thorne's house and waited to hear from him. Then Macy would still be alive. She wiped absently at her eyes. She knew in her head that she was not responsible for Macy's driving that night. But her heart was heavy with guilt and she had not been able to shake it. She knew everyone thought she had murdered Macy. Especially Kimberly. Brooke sighed and walked to the window, shuddering as memory washed over her. Feeling the glass shattering around her as Kimberly pushed her through the window in a fit of rage. She rubbed her upper arms against the chill the memory brought. To say nothing of what her own daughter thought of her dating and planning to marry her other half-brother. Bridget, to Stephanie's never-ending glee, had made it clear that Brooke had a choice to make. Disgusted with her mother, she had delivered and ultimatum. It was her or Thorne. Brooke sat back at her desk, looking at picture of her two children. It had been no choice at all, really. She smiled through her tears. Her children were worth anything. But Thorne had not taken it well. He continued to plead with her to reconsider. But it just was not an option. Maybe she had been wrong all these years, thinking she would find the one man who would be perfect for her. Maybe her true destiny was to be alone, she thought sadly. She looked again at the photo of her children. They were truly the light in her life. Without them, it would be empty. Rick and Bridget. She smiled through her tears. She knew her decision had been right. Her children came first, no matter what. Her gaze narrowed to focus on Rick, in particular.

She had a feeling her son was heading down a disastrous path, a path that would bring him the same heartache that it brought him the first time. She glared out the window. Ambrosia Moore. How she wished she had never heard that name. And Rick was yet again mixed up with her and Becky's baby, mistakenly, in Brooke's opinion, called Little Eric. It was unbelievable, really. The very idea that Rick would engage in a custody battle with best friend CJ over a baby that belonged to neither of them. She sighed. She'd over heard Rick and Bridget talking. She knew she shouldn't have listened, but she did. She feared Rick was about to make a terrible mistake. He went looking for the baby's biological father and got a name. He had some crazy idea of finding him and persuading him to sign over custody to him and Amber. Her anger rose again at the thought of that girl. Gold digging, selfish, liar that she was, she had somehow convinced Rick that he loved her again and that they could be a family. With Becky's baby! She had thought about it. Had thought of nothing else since then. She had stalled Rick by finding work for him at Forrester to keep him in town. She didn't want him mixed up in this. Tied to child that wasn't his, when he was scarcely more than a child himself. No, it wasn't happening. Not this time. Brooke intended to see to it, but she would have to beat Rick to the father. And convince him that if he didn't want his child that CJ was the perfect father, after all, CJ was the boy's stepfather. She had a name. Now, all she had to do was find him.

And that's what she planned to do. The family thought she was going away to a spa in the mountains. Big Bear was out of the question, after what had happened there. And she couldn't take the chance of them looking for her. No, it was better to be vague. She was going to find the father of that baby and let him deal with Amber. No way was that girl getting her hooks into her son again. Not if she could help it. She had managed to find out where he could be found most nights. A bar in the seedier section of L.A. It was funny he had been this close the whole time. She wondered idly why Becky never told him about the baby. Or perhaps she had, she thought suddenly, and he just wasn't interested. Well, she would make him interested. She told Megan good bye and walked onto the elevators, confident that she could fix this before it got any worse for her son. She looked down at the name scribbled hastily on a scrap of paper. Deacon Sharpe.

Chapter 1

Brooke had booked a hotel far away from The Lair and her eyes narrowed as the cab approached the club. A far cry from the elegant places she'd grown accustomed to over the years. Brooke paid the cabbie as she alighted gracefully. She critiqued her outfit as the cab pulled away. The worn jeans fit her like a second skin, while the red halter exposed her flat stomach criss crossing over her bare back. Matching kid leather boots in the same shade of red as her top added three inches to her height making her legs seem impossibly long. She'd removed all her jewelry except a few silver pieces. Her hair hung down her shoulders in a casual disarray. She entered the dark interior and took a deep breath. The stale smell of smoke and alcohol filled her nostrils. The bluesy sounding rock pounded in her ears. She glanced around. The inside was not as bad as she'd feared. But she was far from comfortable, she was not here to have fun, she reminded herself. In her discomfort, she did not notice the way the men's heads turned as she walked past on her way to the bar.

Finding an empty stool, she took a seat. She ordered a long neck beer from the bartender and contemplated how to find Deacon Sharpe. She knew nothing about him except that he fathered Becky's baby and could be found here most nights. She took a long pull on her beer and tried to figure out the next step. She had never done anything like this. She had no clue how to go about it.

Amber played in the floor with Little Eric. It had been so easy when the judge decreed that she move back with the Forresters. Everything familiar and Rick. Best of all, Rick. She couldn't believe that she had missed him like she did. She glanced at the clock. Rick had come home late every night this week. He'd never worked like this before. She frowned. Brooke. It was her, she was sure of it. She using Forrester to keep Rick away from her. Well, it wouldn't work. And it was high time she realized it. She started for the phone, but stopped when the door opened. Her smiled beamed. 'Rick.'

'Hey, Amber.' His eyes immediately flew to Little Eric who played happily on the floor with some block.

'I was just about to call you.'

'I know. We are so backed up.'

'You know, when we were married, you never worked this way before.'

'Oh, well, it's just the showing. There's a lot to do.'

'Yeah. Okay.' Her disbelief was apparent.

'Hey.' Rick crossed to her. 'What's going on? What are you accusing me of?' He frowned. 'I just pledged my love to you. We made love for the first time in months. I thought this meant something to you.'

'I know, honey.' Amber put her hands on his chest. 'I know you're working late. I'm just wondering why.'

Rick shook his head, still confused.

'Actually, no.' Amber stated. 'That's not true. I know exactly what's behind all these late hours.' She pursed her lips. 'Or I should say who.'

'What?'

'Brooke. Your mother is using Forrester Creations to keep us apart and I'm not going to stand for it, Rick! Not this time. I'm not putting up with that crap.'

'Amber, you're being ridiculous.'

'Am I?' She stared at Rick. 'Why, all of a sudden, are you working these crazy hours?'

'I'm trying to learn the business, Amber. It's going to be like this everytime we have a showing.' He looked back at her intently. 'Let me know now if you can't handle being in my life. Tell me now, before this goes any farther.'

Stephanie and Eric had settled in the sitting room with brandys to relax. Stephanie smiled. Everything was as perfect as it could get, she thought. Brooke finally was finished with the men in her family. She leaned over and kissed Eric.

He smiled down at her. 'And what was that for.'

She placed a hand on his cheek. 'Just because I love you and I am happier than I have been in ages.'

'And why's that?' He asked, smiling at his wife.

'I have my family back.' She beamed.

Eric nodded. 'Yes, my dear, all is as it should be.' Their mouths met in a loving kiss.

Bridget was curled on the couch, studying. All was right in her world. She smiled. Things were finally back to normal. Or as normal as they got in her family. But at least her mom had quit dating Thorne. She still shuddered at the thought. What had she been thinking? But it was over. Her mother, with a little prodding, had finally seen the truth. She and Thorne were not right for each other. It was just one of those things that could never be. It was just too wrong, for everyone. She felt for her because she knew her mother was in pain and hurting over the loss she felt, but it would ease in time. She was sure of it. Now, if only Thorne would just let go and leave her mother alone. She knew he was pestering her. He had to be convinced that it was over. Her brow furrowed in a frown. Her mother was not known for her strength of will in the face of temptation. Thorne had to be gotten under control before he got to her mother. But she would need help. She knew just who to call.

Ridge was going through the designs one by one. He had to get them in order and assign models. Christ, he couldn't believe Brooke had just up and left in the middle of this. She knew the chaos that reigned in the weeks before a major showing. He was muttering to himself when his office door opened. 'Doc!' He grinned at his wife.

'Hey, sweetheart. Still slaving away?'

Ridge rolled his eyes. 'Well, Brooke kind of left us high and dry here.' He frowned.

'Poor baby.' Taylor clucked her tongue sympathetically. 'Don't be too hard on her, Ridge. She's going through a lot.'

Ridge's eyes opened wide. 'You are not defending, Brooke!' He said incredulously.

'It wouldn't hurt you to be a little understanding.' Taylor chastised him. 'She just gave up a man she's fought tooth and nail for. All for the love of her children. I can't fault her for that, nor can I fault her for needing some time to get her head together. This is just for a couple of days, right?'

'Yeah.' Ridge sighed. 'You're right, as usual.'

'So kind of you to notice.' She sauntered towards him and planted a kiss on his mouth.

He started to deepen it and then pulled away. He frowned. 'Something the matter?' He watched her sift through a rack that belonged to the Bedroom line. He sighed. 'Please, don't start about the lingerie, Doc. It's just a clothing line.'

Taylor's eyes twinkled. 'Oh, I wouldn't dream of it.' She walked and locked the office door and turned to face her husband. She dropped her long overcoat to reveal and a satin and black lace teddie. The satin was the same sapphire blue as her eyes. 'I was just thinking that I've developed a new perspective on the Brooke's Bedroom line.' She laughed as he pulled her close and untied the silky ribbons at her breast.

Brooke glanced around. No one looked approachable for information. She sighed and drank some more. It was her second bottle. Perhaps mingling was required. She didn't really feel like it, especially with a bunch of strangers. Caught up in her own thoughts, she didn't see the man approach her.

'Hey, there, pretty lady.' He grinned at her. He was tall and handsome in an ordinary sort of way. 'Let me buy you a drink.'

'I have one, thanks.' Brooke replied, trying to give him the hint she was not interested.

He took the seat beside her. Brooke sighed in resignation. This had been a bad idea. She ought to see if this guy knew Deacon Sharpe, but she really wanted nothing more than to go home. Brooke stood. 'I have to go.'

'Not so fast.' He smiled and stopped her with a hand on her arm. 'How about a dance?'

Brooke looked at him skeptically.

'Aw, now, I'm harmless.' He said, grinning still.

Brooke smiled a tiny bit. 'Well, maybe one dance.' Maybe she could do this, she thought suddenly.

'Let's go, then.' He offered his arm.

Brooke smiled and walked to the dance floor. He held her close but not too close. 'I'm Ted.' He said. 'And what's your name?' He asked.

'Brooke.'

He nodded. 'A lovely name, for a lovely lady.'

'Flattery will get you nowhere.' She said a little primly.

He laughed. 'Feisty. I like that.' He danced her expertly around the floor.

Deacon Sharpe watched the beautiful blonde. Easily recognizable, Brooke Logan did not belong in The Lair. That much was certain. His blue eyes narrowed. Women like that did not frequent bars like his. The question was, what was she doing here tonight? As the song ended, he started for the dance floor.

Brooke laughed as the song ended. 'Thanks for the dance.'

'My pleasure.' Ted bowed melodramatically. 'How about that drink?'

Before Brooke could answer, a male voice said, 'Not this time, Ted.'

Ted looked up at the younger man and before he could speak, Brooke turned around, puzzled, and looked up into a pair of dark blue eyes. 'Excuse me?'

'My dance, Ted.' His brows rose in question.

Ted nodded. 'Sure, man.' He took Brooke's hand again and kissed it. 'Thank you again. Perhaps, we'll have a drink later.'

Brooke looked flabbergasted at the younger man. 'I don't know who--'

Her sentence was left unfinished as he took her into his arms and danced her out onto the floor. 'But I know who you are, Brooke Logan.'

'How do you know who I am?'

'Are you kidding? I'd recognize you anywhere after that Brooke's Bedroom press conference.' He chuckled.

Brooke frowned. 'I don't know what you're thinking...'

'Relax, Brooke. I only wanted to dance with the most beautiful woman here tonight.' He grinned.

Brooke felt her stomach flip at the sight of that smile. Stop being ridiculous, she told herself. You're acting like a high school kid. He's attractive, but you don't have to be stupid about it. Be calm. She took a breath and smiled. This man seemed to know the people. 'Well, thank you.' She smiled prettily. 'You come here very often?'

He smiled again. 'I'd be here a whole lot more if someone like you were here.' He returned.

'A line for everything?' Brooke flirted. She lowered her lashes demurely.

He looked down at her. 'Seriously, why is a lady like you in a place on this end of town?' His curiousity got the better of him.

Brooke stared at him wondering if he could help her. 'I'm looking for someone.'

Amused. 'And who might that be?'

'A man named Deacon Sharpe. Do you know him?'

His eyes narrowed imperceptibly. 'Why do you ask?'

'That would be my business.' She said crisply.

He tilted his head down. 'Not if you want me to help you.'

'Then you do know him! Tell me where I can find him!'

'I'll think about it.'

'That's not good enough!' Brooke fumed at him.

'That would be your problem, ma'am.'

Furious, Brooke jerked away, but he held her fast. 'Now, Ms. Logan, we haven't finished our dance.' He whispered in her ear, pulling her flush against him.

Brooke shivered as her stomach gave another queer turn. She looked up into what had to be the darkest, bluest eyes she'd ever seen. She took a deep breath as he turned her on the dance floor, and inhaled the scent of him. His cologne, smoke, scotch, and something that just had to be him. Her breath was short and he met her gaze and his hands moved beneath the criscrossed straps of her halter. She stopped moving and stared at him, his hands sending delicious shivers up her spine. 'Wh-what are you doing?'

'You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.' He whispered, pressing his lips to a spot behind her ear.

'I don't know you.' Brooke whispered back.

He answered her with a searing kiss, his tongue tracing her lips slowly. Brooke opened her mouth to protest, but it was lost as his tongue plunged in, sucking and tasting her mouth. Brooke's wrenched her mouth free, her hand flying to her mouth, feeling the tender, swollen flesh. 'I don't know what happened. I never do that.' She whispered, shaking with the desire pooling inside.