Burning for Love: Los Angeles Armstrongs 2 (The Armstrongs Book 8) Read online

  Burning for Love

  Los Angeles Armstrongs

  (Drake and Roxie)

  L.A. Armstrongs Book 2

  Armstrong Series Book 8

  Jessica Gray

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, and places in this book exist only within the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons or locations is purely coincidental.

  Burning for Love, Los Angeles Armstrongs, Book 2

  All Rights Reserved

  Copyright © 2016 Jessica Gray

  This book is copyrighted and protected by copyright laws.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without prior written permission from the author.

  Cover Design by http://www.StunningBookCovers.com

  Jessica’s Newsletter

  Sign up for my newsletter to be the first one to know when I publish a new book

  http://www.jessicagraybooks.com/newrelease.html

  Table of Contents

  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

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Preview Fernando

  More Books by Jessica

  Chapter 1

  Drake Armstrong inhaled a ragged breath as he stepped out of plane in Quito, Ecuador. Carlos wasn’t at the airport to meet him. And who could blame him after a four-hour delay due to mechanical difficulties.

  But he was pleasantly surprised when he switched on his cell phone and a text from Carlos appeared on the screen.

  A driver will wait at the exit for you. He has a sign with your name and will drive you to my place.

  Drake grinned. His old buddy had cared enough to take care of the details. Despite the fact that Drake was thirty-two years old, the eldest of the six Armstrong siblings, and frequently travelled to exotic far-away places for his field research as volcanologist, Carlos had made sure he’d have a ride.

  He passed customs and then waited at baggage claim for his two immense suitcases full of instruments. Having just flown in from Los Angeles at sea level, the thin mountain air made him inhale in short pants and he sighed when he finally spotted a short man, with long black hair plaited into a pigtail holding a sign Drake Armstrong.

  Despite the fact that the Otavalo Indian didn’t even come up to Drake’s armpit, he handled the two suitcases with ease and rushed off with a speed Drake struggled to match. Damn altitude.

  The ride passed in quiet, because the driver’s English was as limited as Drake’s Spanish. As the car drove across the city, Drake didn’t pay much attention to his surroundings. He leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes for a few minutes.

  He must have dozed off, because the car suddenly stopped and the driver said, “Señor. We arrive.” The small man jumped out, opened the trunk and flung the suitcases onto the before Drake even opened his door.

  “Gracias.”

  The driver cast a smile and refused payment. “No, Señor. Don Carlos pay.”

  Drake sighed and pushed a five-dollar note into the driver’s hand before he grabbed his suitcases and approached the house. Even though Carlos and he had been friends for over a decade, he’d never visited him before. They’d met at the University of California in Los Angeles where they had both studied geology and physics to become volcanologists. After his graduation, Carlos had returned to Ecuador, but the pair had stayed in contact and frequently traveled on research excursions together.

  His friend’s house was much larger compared to others he’d seen on the way. A hacienda-styled structure, with white stucco walls and red tiles on the roof loomed before him. A wall surrounded one part of the house at the roofline and he guessed there must be a rooftop terrace up there. It would be a perfect spot to appreciate the panorama of Quito spread out between the surrounding mountains.

  He’d read somewhere that Quito was the highest capital city in the world at an elevation of 9350 ft above sea level. It would take him a few days to get used to the oppressive altitude.

  Drake set his bags to the side and then knocked on the front door, raising a brow when it opened all on its own. He poked his head inside and fought the urge to turn on his heels and leave.

  Loud voices reached his ear and dozens of people milled around. It seemed like a party was in full swing, which he usually didn’t mind, but after the grueling flight, he just wanted to drop dead on the next best bed. Now he wouldn’t be able to do that.

  Drake’s six foot two frame towered over everyone in the room by at least one head and he had no difficulty scanning the room and finally spying Carlos on the opposite side talking to a few of his guests.

  Steeling his spine, Drake stepped inside and stored his suitcases in a corner beside the door. He caught Carlos’ eye and his friend gestured for him to come over. Exhaustion spread through his body, but he grimaced and wove his way through the crowded room until he stood by his friend’s side.

  “Hey, I didn’t know you were having a party tonight.”

  “It’s your welcome party to Ecuador. Everyone’s excited to meet you.” Carlos grinned. “Since you were late, we already started the fun.”

  Drake nodded. “I can see that. Thanks for sending me a driver.”

  “No worries. You want a drink? Wine, beer, aguardiente?” Carlos asked.

  “I’ll take a beer.” Drake answered. He’d drunk aguardiente a few times and he shuddered at the memory of the strong anise flavor.

  Carlos grinned again. He apparently hadn’t forgotten Drake’s aversion to anise. Out of nowhere a beautiful petite woman with long, straight, chestnut hair appeared.

  “You remember my wife, Anita?” Carlos asked.

  “Sure. Nice to meet you again. It must be five years, or more?”

  “Six years,” Anita replied. “Since we returned to Ecuador.”

  Drake hugged her, but Carlos pulled him away after a few seconds. He made the rounds with Drake in tow, introducing him to any and all of the guests. Drake groaned inwardly. All fantasies of a comfortable bed floated away on the dulcet tones of party conversation.

  Most of the guests tried their best to speak a sentence or two in English, but soon reverted back to Spanish. I really should have polished my high school skills before coming here. Soon enough Drake’s head whirled with words he couldn’t translate. Everyone talking at once and a mile a minute became just too much for his tired brain and he resigned himself to smiling and nodding, hoping he wasn’t looking the fool he felt.

  Carlos snagged him a beer out of a nearby bucket, and Drake swallowed half of the bottle in one gulp. He stood there for several long minutes, nursing his drink, his mind drifting off. If he didn’t move, he’d fall asleep standing up. A slight headache dogged him, but he passed it off as being tired from traveling and too much chatter not of his native tongue.

  “Mind if I have a look around the house?” he asked Carlos.

  “Mi casa, su casa. I’l
l show you the guestroom later. Pretty soon everyone will be gathering on the rooftop terrace besides the barbecue, then we can move your luggage,” Carlos said.

  Drake chuckled, and answered in turn, “Gracias.” He wasn’t completely inept when it came to Spanish, but he wouldn’t be holding any conversations in the local language anytime soon.

  He entered the big and modern kitchen full of guests doing whatever last minute preparations were needed for the barbecue, chatting, or trying to find more drinks. It was huge chaos, but somehow everyone seemed to find what they were looking for. Drake quickly escaped outside into the gardens.

  The flora wasn’t tropical. In fact, the plants resembled those back home. Because of its elevation and its closeness to the equator, Quito had more or less the same moderate climate year around. Drake still wore his lightweight jacket over a black t-shirt, but he could have done without.

  After a while, he returned inside and wandered into a formal living room. This room was a stark contrast to the modern kitchen. He felt like he’d traveled back in time. Old-fashioned furnishings, almost castle-like in their formality, adorned the room. Brocade upholstered chairs, claw-foot polished furniture, and elegant draperies hung over the windows. Modern lamps, video equipment, and marble floors blended old and new into an aesthetic ensemble. It was totally different than what he would have expected of his friend, and yet it somehow felt appropriate.

  Drake settled on a vacant couch that faced large windows. He tipped his head back, slouching slightly to rest it on the back of the couch, and closed his eyes, until the sweet sound of feminine laughter reached his ear. His eyes popped open as he looked around for the owner of the voice.

  The most gorgeous woman stood at the doorway to the living room. Drake pushed himself up, unable to take his eyes off of her.

  She was fairly short, like most Latin Americans, probably around five foot five, with large brown eyes and satiny black hair that hung in long waves to her waist. Her skin clear and rosy begged to be touched, and he wondered if it felt as smooth as it looked. His hands itched to trace the curves of her perfect hourglass figure. Her eyes twinkled with mischief, and yet she held something back. Her posture possessed a stiff reserve that said she felt uncomfortable.

  Instant attraction buzzed through every cell in his body. The tingling feeling was both foreign and exciting as hell. He’d not had a girlfriend in years. Not because of the lack of willing candidates, but because he’d not met anyone he wanted to share his life with. He was old-fashioned in that respect – he wanted to meet the girl of his dreams, get married and stay that way until death do us part.

  Carlos greeted the woman and then looked around the room, apparently making a point to tell this beauty about his American friend. Drake met Carlos’ eyes and jumped from the couch when Carlos ushered her over to meet him.

  “Drake, I’d like to introduce you to a compatriot of yours, Miss Roxanne Ellison. She’s teaching English at my son’s secondary.”

  An American? He hadn’t seen that one coming. Drake extended his hand, not missing the slight hesitation or look she gave him before shaking it. “Nice to meet you.”

  He could barely press the words out without giving away how much touching her hand affected him. His stomach had tightened, along with other parts of his anatomy – just from touching Roxanne’s warm palm.

  She gave him a timid smile. “Carlos said you just flew in to climb some of the volcanoes here?”

  Drake gave Carlos a look. “Yes, and to take some measurements. I’m a volcanologist. You’re Javier’s teacher?”

  “Yes.” Roxanne nodded. “That’s why Carlos invited me to this party; to get to know some people.”

  Drake raised his brow at Carlos, but his friend put on an innocent look and then excused himself, leaving the two of them alone.

  “Roxanne, would you care to join me and save me from making a fool of myself by having to use my abysmal Spanish? I promise not to bore you or fall asleep on you.” Drake grinned and watched as a slight blush climbed into her cheeks.

  Chapter 2

  Roxie observed Drake and fought with herself to answer his question. Off course after the first glimmer of attraction coursed through her, she wanted to spend more time with him, but she wasn’t here to be distracted by a man. She’d come to the party to get in contact with locals and practice her language skills, knowing that the extra practice would help her become a better teacher when school started again.

  And now she stood here, inside Carlos’ gorgeous house, trying to assimilate the cyberspeed Spanish flying around her, and staring at the mesmerizing man making her body stand at attention.

  It made her feel so feminine when a man towered over her, and Drake certainly did that at well over six feet. He wore an open, lightweight jacket over his tight black t-shirt and his muscles rippled in all the right places. Her gaze followed the path of his abs down to the waistband of a worn pair of jeans and then his thick thighs.

  Feeling the heat flame higher on her cheeks, she raised her head to appreciate his dark and curly, slightly unkempt hair and the stubble on his jaw. He looked like he’d been traveling many hours – and yet, he might be the sexiest man she’d ever seen. Roxie gazed into his bright blue eyes as if hypnotized.

  Another mistake, as now she wasn’t able to blink or tear her eyes away from his. A quiver settled in her stomach and her hand still tingled from the electric shock touching his had sent throughout her body.

  Roxie bit her bottom lip, trying to hide her visceral reaction to him. “I could do that, especially if you promise to stay awake, but you have to call me Roxie. Whenever anyone calls me Roxanne, I have a flashback to being a little girl caught with her hand in the cookie jar. My mother and grandmother only used my full name when I was naughty.”

  Drake intensified his breathtaking smile her. “Well, I wouldn’t want to start off our friendship by bringing up bad memories. Roxie it is.”

  “Thanks.” Her insides quivered in reaction to the deep and sexy tone of his voice.

  “Do you want to sit down?” he asked, looking longingly at the couch where he’d been slouched a few minutes earlier.

  Roxie nodded and stepped around the couch and settled into the corner of it. “You just arrived today. You must be really tired?”

  Drake grinned. “Yes. But now that I’ve met you, I’ll survive a bit longer. Besides, there’s no way I can get to sleep now, with all the people milling around.”

  “Oh.” Roxie had no idea what to say, but Carlos saved her. He appeared out of nowhere beside them with several people in tow.

  Carlos gave Drake and Roxie a look she couldn’t quite decipher and then gestured toward the people behind him. “I wanted to introduce you two to some of my friends. Do you mind?”

  “No. We’re both at your disposal.” Drake shook his head and stood up, lending Roxie a helping hand as she rose to her feet. More electric zings shot through her body and she snatched her tiny hand from his huge one.

  Carlos made the introductions to several of her student’s parents and also a few government officials. Roxie knew that a well-connected Carlos worked for the Ministry of Environment. After a while, everyone wandered off, leaving her alone with Drake. She inhaled a deep breath. Just standing beside the man made her feel as if all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room.

  “Mind if we sit again?” he asked, sighing around a small yawn.

  “Of course. Tell me about your work?”

  “Why don’t you tell me about your teaching?” Drake asked. “I assume you must enjoy it since you travelled thousands of miles from home to do so.”

  Roxie nodded. “I love teaching. I never intended to teach outside the United States, but when this opportunity came along…well, I was looking to make a few changes in my life, and my principal allowed me to go on sabbatical for a year…so, I came here looking for adventure.”

  “Have you found it?” he inquired.

  Roxie shrugged. “Yes, and no. Yes, I’m livi
ng in a foreign country, and that’s quite a change for me. Back in the States. I’m an elementary school teacher. The kids are much smaller and easier to handle. Teaching in the secondary school is completely different.”

  “Sounds like a lot of change to me,” Drake said. His soft voice floated around her like a warm blanket. To avoid getting lost in his baby blues again, she fixated her gaze on his hands.

  “But…I don’t know, summer vacation is coming up and I want some real adventure.” She gave him a shy smile, “I haven’t…”

  Before she could finish her response, a large group of partygoers entered the living room, bringing with them music as they slid furniture to the side to create a dance floor.

  Drake grimaced and then leaned toward her. “What do you say we go find someplace quieter to talk? I think there’s a rooftop terrace?”

  “There is. And I heard there will be food, too.” She grinned.

  Drake stood and took her hand again, pulling her up and after him as they waved their way through the crowded place in search of the stairs. Roxie liked the way he kept hold of her hand and made space for her. She could get used to the way he made her feel – just a little.

  Chapter 3

  Drake led Roxie through the house. Once on the outside stairs to the rooftop terrace he had to release her hand, because they met people walking down. The sense of loss confused him and he had to hide a look of disappointment.

  When they reached the terrace, its beauty overwhelmed him. They stepped out onto a wooden deck, open to three sides and featuring the most spectacular panorama. Below, the glimmering lights of the city of Quito stretched into a narrow valley and on the opposite side, the impressive contour of the snow-topped volcano Pichincha loomed on the horizon.

  “This is lovely,” Roxie said with a smile that warmed his heart. For some peculiar reason he wanted to see this woman happy.

  Drake looked around and walked over to a cushioned bench beneath the wooden pergola that took up the far corner of the terrace. Out of a new-formed habit, he put his hand on the small of Roxie’s back and could feel the shiver rushing down her spine. He smiled. He’d caused it and that pleased him.