Taken by Storm

by Rochelle Alers

  He stopped her when he placed his thumb over her parted lips. “Please don’t argue with me, Simone. You were very tight—”

  “Is that a problem, Rafe?” It was Simone’s turn to interrupt him.

  He tightened his hold on her body. “No, it’s not a problem, and don’t try and make it an issue, Simone,” Rafe countered, his voice rising slightly. “You have your reasons for wanting to sleep with me as I have mine for agreeing to sleep with you. What I want you to know and always remember is that I’m honored and humbled that you’ve chosen me and not some other man to share your bed after so many years.”

  Simone bit down on her lower lip to stop its trembling. “There’s no need to get maudlin, darling. It’s only sex,” she lied smoothly.

  “If it’s only sex, then why have you waited eight years to sleep with a man? Why haven’t you slept with some of the guys in your bowling league?”

  Simone gathered more of the sheet, tucking it around her body as she slipped out of bed. She didn’t have to explain to Rafe why she’d decided to share his bed. “Let’s not make more of it than it is. We’re both consenting adults, so let’s leave it at that.”

  “The power’s back on,” he said as she walked out of the bedroom, the sheet wrapped mummylike around her lush body. The digital clock on the dresser was blinking twelve o’clock.

  Resting his head on folded arms, Rafe stared up at the ceiling. He hadn’t wanted to believe they’d had sex. That was something he could get from any woman. Simone had sex with him, while he’d made love to her.

  What’d occurred between them hadn’t changed the reality that he was a U.S. marshal and she a government witness. What had changed was that they were lovers.

  * * *

  Simone didn’t want to think about what she’d shared with Rafe, because it only served to remind her of a longing that she didn’t know she was capable of. Each time she recalled his slow, deliberate lovemaking, her body betrayed her.

  She’d admitted to him that they’d had sex because she didn’t want to fall victim to emotions that wouldn’t allow her to let him go. And the time was going to come when she had to let him go. There was no way she was going to spend another eight years pining for what had been and would never come again. She’d made that mistake once and didn’t intend to repeat it with a man who was just passing through.

  She showered quickly, slipped into a pair of sweats and a tank top, then went down to the kitchen. Turning the radio to an all-news station, she listened to the announcer’s update of the prior evening’s violent thunderstorm. Two thousand Westchester County residents and businesses were still without electricity and utility crews were working around the clock to restore power as quickly as possible. One of her clients was in the business area affected by the power outage.

  The soft chiming of the telephone caught her attention, she picking up the receiver after the second ring. “Hello.”

  “Good morning, Simone. Were you affected by the storm?”

  “We lost power last night,” she told her sister, “but it’s back on now.”

  “I’m calling to remind you that we’re meeting at my place tonight.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “I know you’re coming with Rafe, so I made Micah promise to come home early. That way the guys can hang out together.”

  Simone smiled. Their bimonthly get-togethers always excluded men. “I’ll let him know.”

  “Speaking of your bodyguard, how is he?”

  “Sexy,” Simone whispered into the mouthpiece, smiling.

  “Oh, it’s like that?” Tessa crooned.

  “Yes. I’ll tell you about it when I see you.”

  “Is that a promise?”

  “Yes, Tessa, that’s a promise.” She saw movement out of the side of her eye. “I have to go.”

  Simone ended the call as Rafe walked into the kitchen, hoping he hadn’t overheard her telling Tessa about him. Her dilemma was that he was sexy—very, very sexy. He wore his ubiquitous jeans, a pale blue pair with a matching long-sleeve shirt. He’d affected the solemn expression she remembered from their initial meeting. Had he, she mused, now regretted their passionate encounter?

  “We need to talk about last night.” The tone of his voice matched his impassive expression. Both were flat, lacking emotion.

  Her eyelids fluttered wildly before she brought her fragile composure under control. She was right. He’d had second thoughts about sleeping with her. “Our sleeping together was a mistake.” Her voice, colored in neutral tones, belied her disappointment. She’d experienced the most exquisite passion in her life, and the man responsible for giving it to her apparently had regrets.

  Taking three long strides and closing the distance between them, Rafe pulled Simone into the circle of his embrace, his expressive eyebrows nearly meeting in a frown. “Is that what you believe? That our making love was a mistake?”

  Simone stared up at him, her heart pounding wildly. “Wasn’t it?”

  Rafe stared at Simone, complete surprise freezing his features. He couldn’t believe she was so savvy when it came to her business, yet so naive, almost childlike, when it came to the interaction between a man and a woman. And it was her naiveté that was probably the reason she’d given her ex more chances than he deserved.

  A hint of a smile started at the corners of his mouth before it became a full grin. “If it was a mistake, then it’s one I’d like to repeat over and over and over.”

  Moving closer, Simone curled into the contours of his hard body. “I love making love with you,” she murmured against his shoulder.

  “Oh. I thought it was sex.”

  “What-evah, Rafe,” she drawled sarcastically. Simone sobered. “There’s one thing I want you to promise me.”

  There came a beat before Rafe said, “What’s that?”

  There was another pause as Simone composed her thoughts. When it came time for Rafe to leave, and it was certain he was going to leave her, she wanted it to go smoothly. No drama.

  “When this thing we have with each other comes to an end—and it is going to end, Rafe—I don’t want you to ever contact me again.”

  Rafe froze. Simone was talking about ending something that’d only begun. He didn’t know how long they would be together; only the lead prosecutor in the case would determine that. Whether it was two, or maybe even three months, he didn’t want to think about not being in Simone Whitfield’s life. What he didn’t understand was how after only five days their lives had become so inexorably entwined that he couldn’t remember when he hadn’t known her.

  “Is that what you want, Simone?”

  She nodded. “Yes. It’s what I want.”

  He closed his eyes and exhaled inaudibly. Rafe didn’t want to fight with her, because as it was he’d compromised his assignment as a deputy marshal by becoming involved with the witness he’d been instructed to protect.

  He opened his eyes, and at the same time a wry smile twisted his mouth. Promising not to contact her was easier than telling himself not to fall in love with her. “I promise.”

  Simone flashed a brittle smile. She didn’t know why, but she felt like weeping. She hadn’t expected him to acquiesce so quickly. Although aware of her ambivalence as to her feelings about her bodyguard, she didn’t want sex to be the defining factor for what would become their short-lived affair.

  She’d asked herself, did she want more? And the answer was a resounding yes.

  But should she expect more? And the answer was a resounding no.

  Her decision to sleep with Rafe had been just that—her decision. For more years than she wanted to count, she’d denied her sexuality. Even when she continued to see Tony and he’d asked to make love to her, she’d refused, always aware that if she’d permitted him to crawl back into her bed he would also wend his way back into her life.

  Her relationship with her bodyguard wasn’t predicated on promises of love and happily ever after, but his keeping her alive so that she could testify
against a man who’d tried to murder a federal judge.

  “Thank you for not complicating my life,” she said quietly.

  Rafe didn’t want to believe Simone could be so self-centered. She was only thinking of herself. He’d made it easy for her, but what about him? Did she believe it would be easy for him to walk away from her? Not fall in love with her?

  “It’s my job not to complicate your life.”

  Simone nodded. “I may have to adjust today’s schedule because of last night’s storm. The neighborhood where I’m scheduled to deliver flowers is still without power. I’ll probably reschedule for tomorrow morning. I also have to go to Brooklyn. Even though it’s a Whitfield women-only gathering, you can hang out with Micah.”

  “How long have you had these women-only get-togethers?”

  Easing out his embrace, Simone smiled at Rafe. “It goes back more than sixty years. It started with my grandmother, continued with my mother and aunt and now me, Tessa and Faith. They meet once a month, while Tessa, Faith and I meet bimonthly. However, that will change once Faith has her baby. We’ll also go to the once-a-month schedule.”

  Dipping his head, Rafe brushed a light kiss over Simone’s mouth. “What else have you planned for today?”

  “I’m going to put up several loads of laundry, then dust and vacuum downstairs. I also have to put together several bouquets for a noon pickup.”

  “What can I do to help you around the house?”

  Simone successfully hid a grin. She’d thought Rafe much too macho to offer to do housework. “Strip both beds, gather the bath towels and empty the hampers.”

  “Anything else?” he teased.

  “That’s all for now, thank you.”

  Rafe angled his head as he studied the woman who unknowingly had him craving her night and day. “I’m surprised you don’t have a cleaning service.”

  “I’d contracted with a service at one time, but after six months I decided not to renew because there was nothing for them to clean. Besides, the services didn’t include windows or laundry. I’d reconsider if I had children or even a child.”

  “Do you want children, Simone?”

  “Yes, I do,” she said without hesitating.

  She wanted children and so did he. At least that was something on which they could both agree.

  * * *

  “This isn’t a legal parking space,” Simone informed Rafe when he pulled into a space parallel to a No Parking Anytime/Tow Away Zone sign.

  He’d elected to park on the street where Tessa had set up Signature Bridals in the tony Brooklyn Heights neighborhood rather than ride around looking for an empty space or park in a public garage. He cut his eyes at her, something she’d noticed he’d begun doing lately when he didn’t agree with her.

  Pulling down the visor, Rafe removed an official U.S. Government placard, leaving it in the windshield, while at the same time giving Simone a smug look. “Now you know why I wanted to take my vehicle.”

  She inclined her head in supplication. “I concede, O Wise One.”

  Rafe didn’t know whether to laugh or kiss Simone. They’d spent the day playing house. She’d shown him how to operate the state-of-the-art digital washer and dryer, and while he did several loads of laundry, she’d made beds, cleaned both bathrooms, dusted and vacuumed.

  He’d accompanied her to the greenhouse where she’d selected flowers for bouquets that were regularly scheduled Monday deliveries to Tessa and her aunt. She would’ve prepared one for her mother if Lucinda Whitfield hadn’t been out of the country.

  The courier, a part-time college student who was obviously infatuated with Simone, appeared disappointed that she hadn’t come to the door to sign his receipt. It’d taken all of Rafe’s self-control not to laugh at the young man’s crestfallen expression.

  “Micah’s here,” Simone said, pointing to the gray sports car parked in front of Signature Bridals. She waited until Rafe came around to assist her.

  Simone led the way up the brownstone steps, Rafe following closely behind. She’d noticed that whenever they were in public, Rafe positioned himself slightly behind her, on her left, his gaze taking in everyone and everything around them.

  Simone had seen footage with secret service agents guarding the president and other high-ranking government officials. Ever vigilant with listening devices, distinctive lapel pins and sunglass-covered gazes sweeping over crowds for anything out of the ordinary, they were ready to react within seconds of a perceived threat.

  Tall and lanky with the natural grace of a big cat, Raphael Madison seldom relaxed his guard. The only exception had been when they were in bed together. He’d taken her on a sensual journey of complete fulfillment with his uninhibited lovemaking.

  Simone reached into her handbag for the key to Tessa’s home out of habit before catching herself. She had to remember her sister no longer lived alone. She rang the bell instead. The intercom buzzed and she pushed open the oak door with stained-glass sidelights.

  Tessa met them in the foyer. She looked very chic dressed in a white man-tailored shirt, black slacks and black patent leather loafers. A black velvet headband held her hair off her face.

  “Welcome,” Tessa crooned, flashing a bright smile. She kissed Simone, then Rafe. “Please come in.”

  Rafe closed and locked the door, his gaze sweeping over the tasteful furnishings in the foyer of the brownstone in the bucolic Brooklyn neighborhood. Pale oak floors reflected the warm glow from wall sconces and an Art Deco–inspired ceiling fixture. A winding staircase with a mahogany banister and newel posts led to the upper floors.

  “Is Faith here?” Simone asked.

  Tessa shook her head. “She’s on her way.”

  “Why didn’t she call me, Tessa? We could’ve picked her up.” Faith, who owned and operated a tiny bake shop in Greenwich Village only blocks from where she rented a studio apartment, didn’t own a car; she relied on taxis and car services to get around the city and the outlying suburbs.

  “She’s been with a client most of the day.”

  Simone remembered Ethan’s concern that his wife was working too hard, and made a mental note to ask Tessa talk to her. It was ironic that Faith’s relationship with Tessa was better than Simone’s relationship with her own sister. It hadn’t always been that way before she married Tony.

  Tessa smiled at Rafe. “Please follow me. Micah just got in, so he’ll be down shortly.”

  Rafe winked at Simone as he followed her sister down a hallway. He stopped when the doorbell chimed.

  “Please get the door, Simone,” Tessa called out. “That must be Faith.”

  Turning on his heels, Rafe retraced his steps. “Don’t move, Simone. I’ll get the door.”

  Tessa went completely still; the imminent danger surrounding her sister hit her full force for the first time. The only one standing between Simone and someone seeking to prevent her from testifying was Rafe Madison. Her eyelids fluttered as she watched him push back his lightweight jacket to reveal the handgun at his waist at the same time Micah descended the stairs.

  “Who’s at the door?” he asked.

  Tessa gave her fiancé a half smile. He’d changed from his business suit into a T-shirt, jeans and running shoes. “It’s probably Faith. I just made a serious faux pas when I told Simone to open the door.”

  Micah looped an arm around her waist. “Simone may be your sister, but it’s Rafe she must answer to, or she’ll be taken to a safe house. She also faces the risk of being jailed if she refuses to cooperate.”

  Tessa nodded. “I know that now.”

  Micah affected a wide smile when Faith walked in. Impending motherhood agreed with her. “Hey, cousin,” he teased.

  Faith dropped her large leather tote on the floor next to a table cradling the exquisite floral pink parfait bouquet of frilly lisianthus, fragrant carnations, velvety roses and double-petaled Angelique tulips. The assortment of flowers had become a personal favorite of Tessa’s. The Wildflowers and Other Treasurers
trademark arrangement had made her cousin a much sought-after floral designer.

  “Hey, cousin,” she said, greeting Micah, handing him a large box stamped with her shop’s logo. “I brought dessert.” Faith smiled at Rafe. “It’s good seeing you again.”

  He nodded. “It’s nice seeing you, too,” Rafe said truthfully. He truly liked the Whitfields and the Sanborns. Both families were close-knit, supportive, friendly and unpretentious.

  Micah handed the box to Tessa before resting a hand on Rafe’s shoulder. “Are you ready to hang out in the man cave and get your eat and drink on?”

  “What man cave?” Simone and Faith chorused.

  Tessa rolled her eyes at the same time she shook her head. “Micah has claimed the parlor as his personal sanctuary.”

  “Are women allowed in the man cave?” Simone asked.

  “Are men allowed at your bimonthly get-togethers?” Micah countered.

  “Oh, no, you didn’t go there, cousin,” Faith whispered under her breath. “I don’t know about you ladies, but Mama needs to eat.”

  Reaching for Faith’s hand, Simone steered her in the direction of the kitchen. “Let’s go, Mama, before you faint on us.”

  CHAPTER 13

  This meeting of the Whitfield women differed from those in the past because they’d come together to discuss Tessa’s upcoming wedding.

  “How are the responses?” Simone asked her sister.

  “Nearly seventy-five percent have confirmed.” Tessa and Micah had decided to hold their wedding at Whitfield Caterers two months prior to it closing at the end of August. Both wanted a small, intimate gathering with family and close friends.

  Faith took notes in a small notebook. “Please keep me updated so I know how many cake souvenirs I have to make.”

  Simone went down her checklist. “Have you purchased your guest book?”

  Tessa nodded. “Yes. The programs are printed and we’ve applied for our marriage license.”

  Simone’s gaze shifted from Tessa to Faith. “As soon as Mama gets back, we’re going to have to set up an appointment for fittings.”