Rafe curbed the urge to laugh out loud. Simone had given Anthony Kendrick more chances than he deserved. “Did he ever go back to work?”
“Would you if your mother gave you a weekly allowance?”
“That’s a rhetorical question because I’d never take money from my mother.”
“That’s where you differ from my bum-bitch ex.” Simone smiled when Rafe chuckled. “He thought he was doing something when he signed up to do taxes during one tax season, but on April 15 at the stroke of midnight, he put away his pencils and slept in late until the next tax season. He’d go through the motions of looking for work, but if he got something it never lasted more than a week or two, because there was always something wrong with his supervisors or coworkers. The pièce de résistance came when I overheard gossip from tenants in our building that he was having an affair with my next-door neighbor. He was too lazy to work, but not too lazy to cheat on me.
“I’d had enough. I moved out, called a lawyer and served him with divorce papers. Even after we were divorced, I second-guessed myself because I never was able to prove that Tony had actually cheated on me.”
“You didn’t need proof, Simone,” Rafe countered angrily. “The fact that he refused to support you should’ve been enough to give his trifling ass the boot.”
Simone laughed, the low throaty sound filling the vehicle. “Now you sound like my cousin. She says she would’ve paid someone to beat the hell out of him, but I told her then I’d be left with the responsibility of taking care of baby boy.”
It was Rafe’s turn to laugh. “You could’ve always sent him back to his mother.”
“That’s where he is now.”
“Do you still see him?”
Simone shook her head. “It’s been more than six months since we’ve talked.”
Rafe concentrated on the signs indicating the number of miles to Englewood Cliffs. “Did he call to tell you that he had a job?”
“When did you become a comedian?” she asked Rafe.
“Well, did he?”
“No. He wanted to know if I’d changed my mind about reconciling.”
“Had you?”
“No. I’d given Anthony Kendrick sixteen years of my life with nothing to show for it but disappointment and dashed dreams. I kept telling myself that I loved him, that I’d taken a vow to support him through sickness and health, for richer or poorer. It’s taken me a long time to accept that I don’t need a man to feel complete.”
You are complete, Rafe mused. Simone was the total package, because she’d been blessed with looks and brains. It’d taken her a long time to accept that her marriage was over before it had begun, but thankfully she’d found the strength to end it.
“Do I make a right or left turn at the exit?” he asked as the signs for Englewood Cliffs came into view.
“Make a left. Go straight for two miles, then I’ll tell you where to turn off to get to their development.”
Ten minutes later, Rafe drove up to the gatehouse leading to the exclusive community where Simone’s cousin lived with her husband. Lowering the driver’s-side window, he nodded to the attendant.
“We’re here to see the McMillans.”
The man punched a button on the keyboard and McMillan came up on a computer screen. “Name, please.”
“Simone Whitfield.”
“You’ll find visitor parking on your left.” He pushed another button; retractable stanchions lowered automatically and Rafe drove through.
Rafe counted the number of houses in the private enclave. Eight two-story town houses were set one hundred feet back from professionally manicured lawns. Top-of-the-line luxury cars parked in circular driveways attested to the affluence of the enclave where the McMillans had chosen to live.
He maneuvered into an empty space set aside for visitors, turned off the engine, and came around to assist Simone. Reaching for his jacket, he slipped his arms into the sleeves. “Go and let your cousin know we’re here. I’ll be there as soon as I get the wine and flowers.”
Simone pointed to her left. “Their house is the one with the black Mercedes-Benz coup in the driveway.”
Lowering his head, Rafe dropped a kiss on her hair. “Go on in. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
CHAPTER 8
Rafe watched Simone walk, his gaze on her bare legs in the heels. When he’d first seen her in the dress, he was afraid he was going to embarrass himself because he never could’ve imagined the perfection of her petite, compact body. The fitted dress revealed what had been concealed by her jeans, slacks and sweats. Even when he’d cradled her body to his, he still hadn’t been able to discern the lushness that lay under layers of fabric.
He’d kissed Simone—once—and was living with her, and now he about to step into the role to play her love interest. The difference between his prior relationship with Dorene and Simone’s was that the latter would be pretense.
Walking around to the rear of the SUV, he took out the bag filled with the bottles of wine and the bouquet of flowers, closing the hatch and activating the remote. He hadn’t taken more than two steps when a dark gray BMW convertible maneuvered into the space next to Simone’s car.
Smiling, he nodded to Tessa. Her dewy skin radiated good health. “How are you?” Shifting the flowers to the crook of his arm, he leaned over and opened the passenger-side door. Rafe extended his hand, easing her gently to her feet.
“I’m good, thank you. How are you?”
“Wonderful.” The single word was pregnant with warmth.
Tessa returned Rafe’s smile, her admiring gaze taking in everything about him in one sweeping motion. He looked different in tailored attire. Her sister had confided the reason for her association with Raphael Madison, but that didn’t stop Tessa from reading more into their arranged relationship.
She’d watched the interaction between Rafe and Simone when they were bowling together and felt something intangible that communicated that their closeness went beyond witness and bodyguard. She suspected her sister and the marshal were totally unaware of it.
Tessa loved her older sister passionately, but felt that she’d wasted so many years of her life trying to make the impossible possible. Tony Kendrick was a spoiled, trifling man who always looked to a woman to take care of him. She knew of Simone’s aversion to blond men, but there was something about the gorgeous lawman that would have any woman giving him a second look.
Micah stepped out of the two-seater, slipped his arms into his suit jacket, then came around to greet Rafe, giving him a one-arm embrace. “What’s up?”
Rafe lifted a broad shoulder under his suit jacket. “I don’t know. This is my first Whitfield get-together.”
“Let’s hope it won’t be your last,” Micah said, clapping a large hand on his shoulder. “Aren’t you and Simone staying over at my folks’ place tonight?”
“Yes, we are.”
He and Simone had packed overnight bags, but his concern was whether they would be forced to share the same bed. Rafe thought of himself as an honorable man, but he wasn’t certain how honorable he would remain sleeping with Simone Whitfield after seeing her in the body-hugging dress. He wondered if she’d chosen the garment to tease him, or if she’d have worn it even if he hadn’t accompanied her.
Tessa looped her arm through Micah’s. “Let’s go, darling. I’m certain Faith and Ethan are waiting for us.”
Rafe exchanged an amused look with Micah. It was obvious that the Whitfield sisters liked the word darling. However, it was different with Tessa and Micah because they were each other’s darlings and were about to become husband and wife the following month.
* * *
The door opened as Simone reached for the doorknocker. Faith McMillan stood in the entryway, her dark eyes shimmering like onyx. Although she was as beautiful as ever, there was something about the model-turned-chef that was different. Her black curly hair was longer than it’d been in some time, but every few years Faith let her close-cropped hair grow
out. She wore a white, loose-fitting sheer peasant blouse over a lace-trimmed camisole, a pair of black cropped slacks, and had pushed her bare feet into low-heel black leather mules.
“Oh, my goodness, you look amazing!” Leaning forward, she kissed her cousin’s cheek. Faith looked as if she’d gained some weight.
“So do you,” Faith countered, returning the kiss. Straightening, she stared over Simone’s shoulder at Tessa, Micah and the tall man walking in their direction holding a bouquet of flowers at an awkward angle. “Now, that’s what I call yummy,” she whispered next to her ear. “Where did you find him?”
Simone knew Faith was talking about Rafe. “He found me,” she said, lowering her voice to a whisper.
“Talk about nice on the eyes,” Faith continued sotto voce.
“Have you no shame, Faith Whitfield-McMillan?”
“No. Not when it comes to a good-looking man.” Faith kissed Tessa and Micah, and then smiled politely at the tall man who was her cousin’s mysterious date. “Welcome. I’m Faith.”
Rafe studied the tall, slender woman who looked as if she’d just stepped off the pages of a glossy fashion magazine. Her flawless dark skin, large eyes that tilted at the corners and delicate features were mesmerizing. He returned her smile.
“Thank you. Rafe Madison.” He handed Faith the flowers. “These are for you, compliments of your cousin.”
Faith cradled the bouquet in the crook of her arm. “It’s nice meeting you, Rafe.” She glanced at the profusion of delicate flowers wrapped in cellophane. “I don’t know how Simi does it, but she can make weeds look like rare orchids.”
“Who’s dealing weed?” asked a deep voice behind them.
Faith and Simone gave Ethan McMillan an incredulous look as he strolled into the entryway.
“Shame on you, Ethan,” Faith whispered. “Talking about drugs will give Simone’s friend the wrong impression. I can assure you that neither of us is into illegal substances,” she said to Rafe.
Deep dimples caressed Ethan McMillan’s tanned, tawny face as he looped an arm around his wife’s waist after he’d kissed Tessa and exchanged handshakes with Micah. Tall and slender, he was his wife’s physical counterpart. Close-cropped mixed-gray hair, a deep, resonant voice, luminous gold-brown eyes afforded the former Air Force–trained pilot a second look whenever he entered a room.
He smiled at his wife’s cousin. “The flowers are beautiful, as usual. Thank you.”
Simone affected a mock curtsy. “You’re welcome.” She smiled up at her bodyguard. “Rafe, this is Ethan McMillan. Ethan, Rafe Madison.” The two men exchanged handshakes and polite greetings as Rafe handed off the bottles of wine to Ethan.
“Everyone’s welcome to hang out in the family room before we sit down to dinner.”
“I’m going to see if Faith needs any help in the kitchen,” Tessa volunteered.
“Me, too,” Simone added.
Ethan lifted his eyebrows at Micah and Rafe. “Well, it looks like we’ll get to do some male bonding.”
“Don’t bond so much that you’ll be too pie-eyed to see how to get to the dining room table,” Faith warned in a quiet voice that indicated what kind of male bonding her husband was talking about.
“Ah, baby. Both of them have designated drivers, so it’s all good.”
“It’d better be all good,” Tessa mumbled under her breath.
“Ditto,” drawled Simone.
She didn’t mind driving from Englewood Cliffs to Franklin Lakes, but what kind of bodyguard would Rafe be if he was too drunk to protect her? Then she remembered what he’d told her about growing up in a home where alcohol was forbidden. She wasn’t certain whether he even drank alcoholic beverages, because when they’d eaten in the Manhattan restaurant he’d opted for coffee rather the complimentary glass of wine that came with dinner.
The three women exchanged skeptical glances with their men before they turned and walked in the direction of the kitchen.
* * *
Ethan, waiting until Micah and Rafe were comfortably seated in a room with a leather seating grouping and wall-mounted television, slowly shook his head. “Don’t tell me the two of you were coerced into wearing nooses tonight.” As if on cue, Rafe and Micah released the top button on their shirts and removed their ties and jackets.
Rafe rolled his head from side to side. “Oh, yeah, that feels better.”
Rubbing his hands together, Ethan smiled at his guests. “Now, what can I get you to drink while we watch the game?”
Micah folded his arms over his chest. “Who’s playing?”
“Boston and the Yankees,” Ethan whispered as if revealing a classified secret.
Reaching for the remote on a nearby table, Micah clicked on the television and flipped to a sports channel. It was a pregame segment where the sportscasters were debating the pros and cons of the lineup of the teams with a rivalry dating back nearly three-quarters of a century.
Resting his elbows on his knees, Rafe leaned forward, his gaze fused to the large television screen with incredibly sharp images. A jolt of excitement pulsed through his body when he saw the steady stream of spectators filling the seats at Yankee Stadium. It’d been years since he’d turned his back on what had been a promising Major League Baseball career, but at twenty-two he hadn’t been mature or emotionally stable enough to cope with pro baseball, and Gideon Madison’s slow descent into madness that had put his mother and sister at risk.
“What are you drinking, Rafe?” Ethan asked.
“I’ll have Jack and Coke.”
Ethan nodded. “What are you drinking, Micah?”
“I’ll have the same,” Micah mumbled. He hadn’t taken his eyes off the screen.
Making his way over to a bar, Ethan opened a door to a built-in refrigerator, filling old-fashioned glasses with ice, cola and whiskey. He handed Micah his drink and a cocktail napkin, then did the same for Rafe. “Do I hear a little Kansas City in your speech pattern?”
Two pairs of eyes met him. “It depends on which Kansas City you mean.” Rafe decided he wasn’t going to make it easy for Ethan McMillan. Simone had mentioned that her cousin’s husband had had a career as a commercial airline pilot.
“Missouri.”
“Kansas,” he confirmed. “You’ve got a good ear, Ethan.”
Micah lifted his glass in a mock salute. “Here’s to a good ear and a steady hand. The drink’s perfect.”
Ethan took a sip of his own cocktail. “I can’t take all of the credit. Faith’s an excellent teacher.”
“She samples every drink you mix?” Micah asked Ethan.
“She did until she became pregnant.” Ethan knew he’d made a faux pas as soon as he said the P word. A scowl twisted his handsome features. “Damn, I wasn’t supposed to say anything until later on.”
Scooting to the edge of his chair, Micah peered closely at his host. “Is that why you and Faith invited us over? To tell us you guys are going to have a baby?”
“Man, keep it down,” Ethan warned Micah, placing a forefinger to his mouth. “I promised Faith I wouldn’t say anything until dinner.”
Micah angled his head. “But you decided to let the cat out of the bag—”
“Please lower your voice, Micah.”
Rafe gave Tessa’s fiancé a knowing glance, then burst into laughter. He’d just met Ethan and it was his second encounter with Micah, but he felt a camaraderie with the two men he hadn’t experienced in years. He took another sip of the Jack and Coke, enjoying the smooth taste of premium whiskey on his palate.
“Look, my brothers, I need ya’ll to help me out here,” Ethan pleaded.
Looping one leg over the opposite knee, Micah affected a bored expression. “It’s funny, but I don’t remember any of my brothers looking like you, Brother McMillan. What about you, Rafe?”
“Don’t have a brother,” he crooned in his best Kansas drawl. “Sorry, Ethan, but I can’t seem to help you out.”
The sweep hand on the mantel clock made a
full revolution before laughter filled the room, this time Ethan’s joining Rafe and Micah. The three men touched glasses, silently acknowledging their secret would go no farther than the four walls.
* * *
Faith lifted the lid off a large pot and gently turned over its contents with a slotted spoon. “Simi, do you think your man will eat Southern-style greens and black-eyed peas?”
Simone halted arranging flowers in a magnificent crystal Waterford vase Tessa had given the McMillans as a wedding gift. “He’s not my man.”
“If he’s not your man, then what is he to you?”
She wanted to tell Faith that Rafe was her bodyguard, but wanted to wait until an appropriate time to tell her about how witnessing a crime in progress had irrevocably changed her life. “He’s a good friend.”
“I’m not asking if you’re sleeping with him, Simi.”
Tessa made a cutting motion across her neck when she met Faith’s gaze. “It doesn’t matter whether she is or isn’t, but what’s important is that he’s not a scrub.”
Faith’s eyebrows lifted with Tessa’s disclosure that Rafe Madison had a job. “What does he do, Simi?”
Simone had the federal prosecutor’s approval to inform her immediate family of her security witness status. Although Faith was her first cousin, they were more like sisters. She’d told Tessa and would tell Faith, but not now. Not before they sat down to eat, and not before what she’d suspected about her cousin could be confirmed.
“I’ll tell you later.” She held up a hand when Faith opened her mouth. “I can assure you that he does have a job.”
“Yes, he does,” Tessa confirmed, deadpan.
Faith’s gaze wavered between Simone and Tessa. “What are you two hiding from me?”
A hint of a smile softened Simone’s lips. “No more than you’re hiding from us.”
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