by A. C. Arthur
“Some things are better left alone, Savian,” he told him.
Savian shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“Well,” Reginald said with a shake of his head. “Take it from someone whose ‘older’, leave it alone.”
#
How he’d managed to get through that dinner with both his parents when one of them had just royally pissed him off, Savian had no idea. That wasn’t totally accurate, he knew why he’d let his father’s last comment to him drop and moved on into dinner with a smile on his face. He’d done it to appease his mother.
Reginald had done the same, acting as if he wasn’t upset by Savian’s questioning and engaging in talk of the upcoming holidays and family throughout dinner. They both loved Carolyn more than anything and would not risk upsetting her, which by the time Savian had arrived home, had answered one of his questions that his father did not.
Reginald lied to his wife because he loved her and there was something that he obviously wanted to protect her from. On any other day, in any other circumstance, Savian might be cool with that. Hell, he might even respect his father for putting his mother first and shielding her from harm because that’s what a husband was supposed to do for his wife. This time, however, Savian wasn’t so sure what his father was doing was right, because whatever he was attempting to protect her from was determined to come to light. That determination was evidenced in the windows of the house being broken, not only at their house, but at Uncle Bruce’s as well. No, Savian thought as he sat in his dark living room and pulled out his cell phone, something definitely wasn’t right.
“Hi,” he said into the phone after dialing the number. “I know it’s late but I needed to see if you’ve found anything.”
“No. Not yet,” Devlin Bonner replied in his gruff voice.
Devlin “Death” Bonner was a retired Navy SEAL. He was also Trent’s closest friend and a trained killer, hence his self-explanatory nickname. Savian had met Devlin for the first time almost two years ago when Briana had been kidnapped. He’d seen the man in action again last year at their family reunion in Sansonique when a serial killer was loose on the island. Now, Savian needed Devlin’s help.
“Dion’s got Trent on the case of the emails but I’d like you to switch gears a bit,” Savian said.
“You still want me to work separate from Trent?” Devlin asked.
Savian knew that Devlin didn’t like keeping their conversations away from Trent, but this is the way he wanted it. He couldn’t exactly explain the feeling he had, but he knew that whatever was going on would be a delicate situation, one he’d like a heads up on before it came crashing down over his entire family.
“I’m not going to keep the secret forever,” he assured Devlin. “This is just the way I want to handle this for now, especially considering what I’m about to ask you to do.”
Devlin was quiet for a few seconds. “Just know that I’m not going to lie to Trent. If he comes to me about this investigation, I’m telling him all I know.”
“I know you will,” Savian said, respecting the man’s loyalty and dedication to his cousin and wishing that he felt the same from his own father. “I need you to investigate my father, Reginald Donovan.”
Devlin did not reply.
“Run a background check on him, Albert, Henry, Bernard, Everette and Bruce Donovan.”
The names almost stuck in his throat as he spoke. Savian had closed his eyes as he said them because somehow it felt like a betrayal. He assured himself that he wasn’t being disloyal to his family. No, having them investigated probably wasn’t the best show of dedication and support to them. Still, in his heart Savian knew this was the course to take.
“I want a full report on each of them from the time they were in high school up until now. Send the information to me on that secure email we set up,” he continued.
“You sure you want to do this, man?” Devlin asked.
Devlin was a loner, Savian knew. The guy had no family and no relationships to tie him down to any one place or any one person. Trent had told them Devlin felt like that was safer in his line of work. Of course, Regan, Lyra and Tate all thought it was more of a protective stance for himself and his own emotions. Whatever the reason, Savian knew that Trent and their family were really the only personal connections Devlin Bonner had and he hated using that to his advantage.
“I have to find out what’s going on and I’m convinced my father and uncle are hiding something. So the only way to find out what that may be is to do the background check.”
“What about the others? You want to drag all of them into this too?” Devlin continued with his interrogation.
Savian nodded and then pinched the bridge of his nose. “They’re all involved,” he said emphatically. “First my father and Uncle Bruce fly to Houston to meet with Uncle Al. Then they use one of the conference rooms at the office for three hours a couple weeks after the All Access event for a conference call. Uncle Everette flew in for that meeting, but did not visit my mother or my aunt at their homes. I only found out he was here because Venora, the receptionist, mentioned how she’d enjoyed meeting my uncle when I’d run into her later that day. Something’s going on,” he said with a sigh. “Something is definitely going on.”
Devlin had agreed with Savian’s request and promised to get back to him by the end of the next week Now, all Savian had to do was sit back and wait, he thought as he disconnected the call and dropped his cell phone on the couch beside him. He had no idea how long he’d sat in the dark living room, staring towards the electronic blinds that were on a timer to close over the floor to ceiling windows. No matter how high up his condo was, he never wanted to chance someone looking in on him. Savian valued his privacy, which only made the fact that reporters might still be camped out in front of his building even more irritating.
He had to find a way to clear his name, he thought with a heavy sigh. Jenise was a competent attorney, of that Savian was sure, but he was the one bringing the blemish on the Donovan name. Now, he scrubbed his hands over his face again because thinking of the charges against him made him think of Jenise and of that kiss they’d shared.
Kissing was not part of Savian’s forte. While he considered himself to be a very generous lover, to those which he decided to sleep with, the kisses had been few and far between. The act was too intimate, too promising and he’d shied away from it for much longer than he could remember.
Yet, this afternoon, he’d kissed Jenise. Under the mistletoe, no less.
Savian had to shake his head at that. How silly was it to be kissing under mistletoe in early November with a woman he did not have a crush on, nor did he plan to marry? Now, Savian frowned because he had no business remembering the story of mistletoe magic that she’d told him. And he definitely should not be able to sit here with his eyes closed and recall the touch of her lips against his, the persistent warmth of her tongue as she’d probed and insisted on his participation.
His body warmed with the thought, his erection growing instantly. On a curse, Savian got up from the chair and headed up the stairs to his bedroom. He did switch on the lights this time, only long enough to strip off his clothes and put them in his closet. His normal routine before going to bed would be to check the daily ratings of the network and watch the celebrity news to make sure none of their stars were in the spotlight this week. The idea of turning on the television or his laptop and seeing his own name splashed all over the place was unappealing. So it was to bed he planned to go. Tomorrow was Saturday and he’d decided he would not go into the office even for a few hours as he normally did, but that he would spend the day going over every interaction he’d ever had with Giovanni Morelli one more time, and then he would wait to hear back from Devlin.
He needed to get some sleep first, to clear his mind and regain his focus. He hadn’t anticipated thoughts of Jenise still plaguing him in his sleep.
Jenise was kissing him again, her lips so soft upon his, her tongue so damn warm and en
ticing. His hand gripped the back of her head, rubbing along the soft strands of short tapered hair, while the other palmed her ass. As he kneaded the plump mound, his dick grew harder, poking steadily against her center. She was straddling him and as she pulled her mouth away from his, she smiled.
Savian liked to see her smile. He liked how her eyes grew brighter with the action and small dimples appeared in each of her cheeks.
“I want you, Savian,” she whispered. “I want all of you, right now.”
With those words she angled herself over his length, putting a hand between them to grip his erection and place the head right at her waiting center. As she lowered herself onto his shaft Savian held his breath. It felt too good to breathe and possibly interrupt the action. Inch by inch she sucked him into her, lowering until her cheeks were now on his thighs, his dick buried deep inside of her.
“Watch me as I take you,” she said and began to ride.
His breath came in quick pants as she moved and Savian gripped her hips, loving the sight of her heavy breasts bouncing with her ministrations. When she tilted her head back and lifted her hips until the tip of his dick was all that remained ensconced in her heat, he gasped. His eyes remained fixed on her smooth skin, the line of her neck, and the dark circle of her nipples. Her lips were parted slightly as she breathed heavily, circling her hips over him. He couldn’t see all of her face and he wanted to, so he said her name, beckoning her to, “Look at me.”
When she did, Savian felt warmth spreading throughout his entire body. He moved his hips with hers, their gazes locked as they worked to drive each other to that delicious precipice. She fell first, her mouth opening wider as she gasped when her thighs began to quiver. Savian watched as her eyes clouded when the pleasure was too much for her to bear. He didn’t know what to say, could only feel the enticing shivers of pleasure trickling down his spine and when his own release came… The alarm clock on Savian’s nightstand blared and he shot straight up in his bed, dick still hard and sunlight peeking through the blinds.
Chapter 5
Jenise slammed the phone down, dropping her head between her hands as she sat in her home office. With a ragged sigh she felt like she hadn’t moved in hours and she hadn’t achieved much either.
After Savian had left yesterday afternoon she hadn’t felt much like doing anything with her Christmas decorations so she’d walked away from those boxes. She hadn’t even picked up the mistletoe she’d thrown on the floor. Instead, she’d decided it was best to focus on work and so she’d gathered her briefcase, a whole bottle of Moscato and headed into her office. She’d gone through the timeline of events that Savian had given her the night of Morelli’s murder more times than she was willing to count.
It had been the Sunday after DNT’s All Access event. Savian had been out late after all that had happened at the event with Parker & Adriana. Morelli had been arrested that night after assaulting Adriana. Savian had spent the early morning hours watching the news for any information on Morelli’s arrest. These facts did not help in the motive department.
At nine-forty five in the morning, Savian left his condo and headed to the Southern Sunrise Baptist Church where his parents attended every Sunday. The garage attendant verified that, along with the time stamp on the tape pulled from the building’s security cameras. There’d been a family gathering immediately following the church service, which had lasted a little longer than usual due to some sort of anniversary celebration. This was corroborated by an actual church program which Jenise had tucked into her file, along with statements from a couple of members from the congregation. Bruce and Janean Donovan confirmed Savian’s presence at their house. There was also a receipt that Savian had given her for the gas he’d purchased on his way home from his family dinner at six-thirty that evening. This time the doorman at Savian’s condo building verified his arrival home at seven fifteen. From that point on, Savian had been alone at his condo.
“I worked on a few reports, answered some emails and then needed a snack,” he’d told her during their first meeting all those weeks ago.
“My aunt had prepared a feast but my cousins and I spent most of the afternoon strategizing about what, if any, damage control we would have to do on Monday as a result of what happened at the party. I don’t care for too much fast food on a daily basis, so I use a service that does grocery shopping for me. I cooked myself a vegetable omelet and watched the NBA finals, still irritated that the Heat hadn’t made it this year. After that, I went to bed. Alone,” he’d emphasized.
As much as Jenise did not want to think of Savian with another woman at this very moment, three months ago, on that Tuesday night, she wished he had been with someone. It would have made proving his innocence that much easier.
At some point she’d finished that bottle of wine alone with a Caesar salad she’d had in her refrigerator. She’d read case law and thought about strategy for hours before finally finding her way to bed. Only to wake up, shower, dress in yoga pants and a t-shirt that had seen better days and head right back into her office.
She was expecting the results from that video tape examination sometime today. There was a tech guy in the area named Jules that she’d worked with on a couple of cases and had grown to trust. He was fast and meticulous, and he testified well. That made him worth all the money she paid him. The detective had replied to her email late last night—apparently she hadn’t been the only one burning the midnight oil. She wondered briefly if Rubin had been sipping on anything in particular while he’d worked as well. That bottle of Moscato had given her a pleasant little buzz by the time she’d made it into bed, and Jenise suspected the libation had been the reason for her soundless night’s sleep.
This morning she was going over case law again, trying to find any loopholes in Miami law that would help Savian’s case, if the video tape turned out to be authentic and his fingerprints were found on that letterhead. Reading about the law and applying it to her client’s cases was what Jenise lived for and she’d been working away for hours before she frowned at the sound of her doorbell.
She left her office wondering who could be paying her a visit at almost noon on a Saturday. It had crossed her mind to order herself a pizza for lunch, but she was positive she hadn’t done that yet and as good as the Pie Palace, just two blocks away from her apartment building was, they couldn’t possibly have read her mind.
Jenise didn’t think she’d ever been as shocked as she was when she opened the door to see Savian standing there. He had two big shopping bags on one arm and—bless everything about this man—a pizza box in the other. Maybe he was a mind reader.
“Hi, I ah…I wasn’t expecting to see you today,” she said, just realizing what she was wearing. Or rather what she wasn’t wearing.
Her face was clear of any make-up or products, but for the light sheen of Vaseline she’d swiped over her lips after she’d brushed her teeth more than three hours ago. She’d taken off her hair scarf, but hadn’t bothered to comb her hair so she suspected the tapered parts in back and around the sides were flat as usual and probably looked passable. As for the top portion of her hair which was longer, that had most likely taken on the spiked look she normally had in the morning before her grooming ritual. Then there were her clothes…
“I hope I haven’t disturbed you,” he said. “I was hungry and wanted pizza. I didn’t want to eat it alone.”
While she looked a hot mess, Savian looked—and oh her absolute goodness, smelled—terrific. He wore dark jeans and a blue and white striped button front shirt. His dark hair and light beard were perfectly shaped-up and looked—as it always did—as if he had his own personal barber that followed him around town. Then there was his scent, like heaven, she thought as she continued to stare at him. It was Michael Kors. She’d recognized the scent on a man one day at the mall and had taken the chance on asking him the name of the fragrance. Funny how Jenise hadn’t hesitated to tap that stranger on the shoulder and ask him that question, but had never even
considered asking Savian himself.
“Is it that hard to decide whether or not to let me in?” he asked.
“Oh, no,” she said feeling like a goof for standing there staring at the man when he’d obviously come bearing the gift of food. “I’m sorry, come on in.”
“I forgot to get drinks so I hope you have something that will go with this large pizza with everything, no anchovies, and extra cheese,” Savian was saying as he walked through the living room to the small dining room. He appeared to be right at home at her place.
“I have Sprite and bottled water,” she told him because the Moscato was long gone.
“I’ll take the water,” he yelled as she was already headed into the kitchen.
She grabbed water bottles for both of them, then paused to sneak a peek at herself in the reflective side of the toaster. She grinned to make sure nothing was stuck in her teeth, then ran her fingers through the top of her hair, thanking the heavens for having the good sense to keep a short convenient cut. Her sister and mother swore by their long tresses but they spent way too much time at the beauty salon which was not one of Jenise’s favorite past times.
As she returned to the dining room, it was to see Savian holding a box out in front of him. The windows in her apartment weren’t large, but they were big enough for her to see some of the Miami skyline and a slip of the beach. She loved natural light so there were no curtains and the afternoon sun seemed to glow extra bright around Savian, giving him the appearance of some type of god as he stood there.
“What’s that?” she asked because the box was gift wrapped and tied with a huge red bow.
“It’s a replacement,” he said when she was putting the water bottles down. “I ripped your other one.”
Jenise didn’t know what he was talking about until she’d taken the box from him and slipped off that pretty red bow. She gasped when she saw what was beneath multiple layers of tissue paper. Sitting the box on the table, she took out the new nightgown. It was black, all lace at the halter top and chiffon from the waist down. Underneath was the wispy black G-string.
