by Pamela Yaye
“Good evening, Ms. Hamilton. I trust that you had a wonderful time in Paris.”
You have no idea, Brianna thought, entering the spacious cabin. It was the most sensuous, romantic week of my life. But since Brianna couldn’t tell the stewardess about Collin, or all the naughty, erotic things they’d done in his penthouse suite, she smiled and nodded. “I did, Ms. Lorraine. Thanks for asking.”
“I love your scarf. Is it from RHD’s new spring line?”
“No, actually, it’s vintage Chanel,” Brianna said, touching the lightweight scarf around her neck. “It was a gift from a...very dear friend.”
A hot, dark, sinfully sexy friend who rocked your world for four blissful days and three steamy nights, her conscience jeered. And you’re so hot for him your sex is still tingling.
“It looks lovely on you, Ms. Hamilton. Your friend obviously has great taste.”
Concealing a smile, Brianna dropped down on one of the plush tan chairs and set her tote bag at her feet.
The stewardess placed a napkin on the side table and clasped her hands. “Which would you prefer for dinner, the grilled chicken or the lobster salad?”
“Nothing right now, Ms. Lorraine. I have a ton of work to do.” Brianna reached inside her bag and took out her sketch pad. “I’ll eat once I finish my new sketches and not a moment sooner.”
“Can I at least get you something to drink?”
“I’d love a cup of coffee.”
The stewardess nodded. “One coffee with two creams coming right up.”
Brianna grabbed one of the sharpened pencils from the front pocket of her bag and flipped open her sketch pad. For several minutes, she sat there, assessing the designs she’d hastily drawn the day she’d met Collin. At the thought of him, her heart fluttered wildly in her chest. She’d done zero work since their first date but surprisingly didn’t feel guilty about taking some much-needed time for herself. Collin had wined her and dined her and given her the best sex of her life—orgasms so explosive they shook her to the core—and now, thanks to him, she was relaxed, at ease and smiling. Beaming from ear-to-ear was more like it.
But when Brianna remembered their heart-wrenching goodbye, her smile faded. Sadness filled her heart. She longed to see Collin, longed to feel his touch and hear his voice. Leaving Paris without asking for his phone number was a big mistake. Brianna thought of calling the hotel but quickly dismissed the outrageous thought. All she knew was his first name. What would she say? Hello, my name’s Brianna Hamilton and I’m looking for the hot American guy who was staying in the penthouse suite. I don’t know his last name or what he does for a living, but I’d really appreciate if you could track him down for me.
Her inner voice cut in, chiding her. Enough daydreaming. Get down to work.
Brianna popped in her pink earbuds and cranked up the volume on her iPod. Gripping her pencil, she swept her hand across the page in crisp, fluid motions. Hours slipped away as Brianna lost herself in her sketches while soulful R&B music stirred deep, powerful emotions in her. And when the opening bars of “Between Your Thighs” started, images of Collin and the private room at the Rashad J concert flooded Brianna’s mind. Her breathing raced uncontrollably and her heart skipped two beats. That night—that sensuous, erotic, mind-blowing night—would be ingrained in her heart forever. It was the first time in her life she’d ever lost control, the one and only time she’d ever given herself fully to someone.
Scared of where her emotions would take her, Brianna shook her head and pushed all thoughts of Collin to the furthest corner of her mind.
Brianna reached for the white ceramic mug embossed with the RHD logo on the side table. The mug was cold to the touch. Brianna had been so busy daydreaming about Collin, she hadn’t noticed when Ms. Lorraine brought her coffee. She thought of buzzing the galley and asking the kindly stewardess to reheat her coffee but quickly changed her mind. She could live without it.
Can you say the same about Collin? asked her inner voice.
I have to. I don’t know his last name. Tracking him down would be next to impossible.
Pulling her scarf up to her chin, she closed her eyes and buried her nose in the soft material. Brianna smelled a faint hint of cologne. I don’t have Collin, but I have my memories, she thought, sighing deeply. And no one can take them away from me.
Brianna must have dozed off because the next thing she knew the pilot was on the intercom welcoming her back to New York, and Ms. Lorraine was standing at the front of the plane holding Brianna’s jacket and purse in her hands.
Brianna rubbed the sleep from her eyes and yawned. A glance outside the window confirmed they were indeed on the ground at JFK International Airport.
Rising, Brianna shoved her sketch pad into her tote bag and stuffed her feet back into her shoes. Smiling her thanks, she took her belongings from Ms. Lorraine and strode off the plane. It was time to face the music, time to see her family and answer all of their questions about Fashion Week. Brianna only hoped her mom wouldn’t take one look at her and know—know that she’d met a man who not only made sweet love to her, but had also changed the way she viewed herself.
A man Brianna would never forget as long as she lived.
* * *
“Welcome home, honey. It’s so great to see you,” Lila Hamilton gushed when she opened the front door of her penthouse suite in the Central Park West building and saw her eldest daughter standing on the welcome mat. “We missed you dearly.”
Setting her things on the side table, Brianna admired her mother’s chic ensemble. With her hair pulled back into a tight bun and her trademark red lips, her mom was the spitting image of her kid sister, Bailey. A former model, her mother carried herself with the poise of British royalty, and it didn’t matter if she was with friends or family—she always spoke in a refined, cultured manner.
“I missed you, too, Mom. It’s great to be home.”
“Paris certainly agreed with you. You look positively radiant.” Lila touched a hand to her daughter’s cheek. “You went to that glorious spa at the Mandarin Oriental Hotel every day, didn’t you?”
No, mom, I had spine-tingling, shriek-inducing orgasms three times a day.
At the thought, Brianna felt her body flush with heat. To keep from putting her size-seven foot in her mouth, she busied herself with hanging up her trench coat in the front closet. Brianna spotted designer shoes of varying sizes on the floor mat and gestured with her head to the living room. “Who’s here?” she asked, frowning. “I thought it was just us tonight.”
“Azure and Harper are in town looking at apartments so I invited them over, and ever since Nelson moved in with Kyle, he’s here all the time,” Ms. Hamilton explained, smiling. “He’s here every night for dinner, and twice on Sundays!”
Mother and daughter laughed.
“Speaking of dinner,” Lila said, “your father and I ran into Rick and his mother at the Sheraton last night, and since they were having trouble getting a table, we invited them to join us.”
Brianna shrugged her shoulder. “That’s nice.”
“Aren’t you curious about how Rick’s doing or whether or not he asked about you?”
“No, why would I be?”
“Because not that long ago you two were happily married.”
“And now we’re happily divorced,” Brianna shot back, faking a sickly sweet smile.
“I just don’t understand how things could have gone so bad, so fast. Rick seemed like such a loving, caring husband and you guys made a dynamic couple.”
He was self-centered and overbearing, and if you knew how he treated me behind closed doors, you would have stormed over to his brownstone and beaten the black off of him.
“It’s been a year since you walked out on Rick, but your father and I still don’t know why you filed for divorce. No one does.”
Brianna’s toes curled inside her black suede pumps. It was times like this, when her mother interrogated her about her ex-husband, Rick Lassiter, that Brianna wanted to run away, wanted to escape to another country, another continent.
I should have stayed in Paris with Collin.
“Nothing would make me happier than seeing you two kids get back together.”
Her stomach muscles clenched, and a low, grumbling sound erupted from deep inside. The apartment smelled of spicy chicken, sweet yams and pumpkin pie, but Brianna would rather return to her tenth-floor apartment with its empty refrigerator than be interrogated by her mom during dinner. “I have no ill will toward Rick, but I don’t want to rekindle our romance.”
“But he still loves you, Brianna. You’re all he talked about during dinner,” she said, softening her tone. “Don’t you still love him? Even a little?”
Hell. To. The. No, Brianna screamed inside her head. She considered telling her mom the truth, finally setting her straight once and for all, but Brianna didn’t have the energy to go there with her mother today.
“Mom, I’m through talking about this,” Brianna snapped, scooping the bag of gifts up off the table and brushing past her. “The next time you run into Rick, please spare me the details. I don’t care how he’s doing or whether or not he misses me.”
Her mother gasped. “Brianna, don’t you dare speak to me like that,” she hissed, her gray eyes wild with righteous indignation. “I’m your mother and you will treat me with respect at all times. Your father and I deserve to know why your marriage fell apart—”
“There’s my baby girl!”
Brianna’s father stood at the end of the hallway, grinning broadly with his hands outstretched. Her father had a salt-and-pepper beard, but his youthful disposition and impeccable fashion sense made him look decades younger. In his trendy fedora, gray turtleneck sweater and tailored black slacks, it would be impossible for anyone to guess he was in his sixties. “Come over here and give your old man some sugah.”
Brianna was shocked by her father’s jovial greeting but embraced him and gave him a peck on the cheek. It felt good to be in his arms and even better knowing she had his unconditional love and support.
“I’m glad you’re home safe and sound,” Roger said, draping an arm around her shoulder. “I know your mother and I encouraged you to represent the family in Paris, but until we find Bailey’s attacker, I want you to stick close to home.”
Brianna nodded. She understood where her father was coming from, and for once didn’t mind him being overprotective. Unlike her mom, he wasn’t badgering her, or trying to be all up in her business. He just wanted her to be safe, careful. Her dad was a man of few words and rarely showed affection, so Brianna relished being in his warm, loving embrace.
“I bought you a bottle of Bourgogne chardonnay,” she said, offering him the gift. “And Pierre Hermé chocolate macaroons.”
“How wonderful!” Lila squealed like a five-year-old girl swinging upside down by her ankles. “I’ll take that,” she said, snatching the bag out of her husband’s hands and speed walking down the sconce-lit hallway.
Chocolate sure can cure anything, Brianna thought, walking into the living room, arm in arm with her dad. The penthouse was lavishly decorated with enough paintings, sculptures and artifacts to beautify an art gallery.
But the mood in the living room was so somber, Brianna wondered if a long-lost relative had died. Kyle and Zoe were hugged up on the sofa love seat, deep in discussion; Daniel was standing beside the balcony window whispering into his cell phone; and her cousins, Harper and Nelson, were sitting on the couch, flipping through magazines.
“I was hoping I’d get to see you before Harper and I head back to Philly on Thursday.”
Brianna blinked as her cousin’s wife sidled up to her in all her pregnant glory. She felt her mouth dry. Her eyes froze on Azure’s stomach. It was the first time she’d seen her friend since she’d announced her pregnancy, and Azure’s glowing skin, fuller figure and protruding belly stirred powerful emotions inside Brianna. Emotions that threatened to consume her, to break her heart in two. All she could do to keep from crying was stare down at her hands and bite the inside of her cheek. “It’s great to see you, Azure. Congratulations on your pregnancy.”
Brianna heard her voice crack and couldn’t stop the hot, scalding tears that pricked the back of her eyes. Managing her feelings and being a good friend to Azure were going to be a challenge—no, it was going to be next to impossible. She admired the magazine journalist and enjoyed spending time with her, but Brianna couldn’t help feeling jealous of her cousin’s wife.
Azure has it all. What do I have? she wondered, overcome with sadness. A failed marriage and no children, that’s what.
“Maybe we can get together one day this week for lunch,” Azure proposed.
“I’d like that.” Brianna nodded and cleared her throat. “Where are you guys staying?”
Harper wore an arch grin. “At Hotel Azure in Lower Manhattan, of course! I couldn’t stay at another hotel even if I wanted to!”
Everyone in the room laughed.
“Dinner’s ready,” Lila announced, exiting the kitchen holding a salad bowl in one hand and a bread basket in the other. “The last one in the dining room is doing dishes!”
Grace was said, plates were filled and the Bordeaux was poured. Seated at the dining room table with three blissfully happy couples with stars in their eyes made Brianna long for Collin. Would he have fit in with her family? Would he have impressed her parents? And more important, would they have accepted him?
Beside her, Nelson cracked jokes about his disastrous blind date, and soon everyone at the table was in stitches. The aspiring actor was hilarious, an outgoing, energetic type, and Brianna knew it was just a matter of time before her cousin got his big break.
“How was Fashion Week?” Azure asked, her eyes bright. “I’m dying to know what the spring trends are for 2014 and who you schmoozed with at the Vanity Fair party.”
Brianna filled her family in on all the highlights. Their enthusiasm was palpable, and the more she talked, the more animated they became. Brianna told them about the glowing reviews in the local newspapers for the RHD fashion show and the telephone interview she’d done with the editor of Vogue Paris two days earlier.
“Has anyone talked to Bailey recently?” Nelson asked, lifting his wineglass.
“I talked to her briefly last night,” Brianna said. “And she didn’t sound good at all.”
“Your sister’s going through a rough time, and it will probably be several months before she’s back to her old self.” Roger cast his gaze around the dining room table and gave everyone a pointed look. “I’ve said this before, but it bears repeating. Don’t tell anyone where Bailey is. We don’t want to compromise the police investigation or tip off her stalker. He or she is still out there, and until they’re apprehended, none of us is safe.”
Brianna shivered. Her instincts told her something was up, that her father was keeping something from them. Had there been a break in the case? Was there new evidence? Did the police finally know who had attacked Bailey at Lincoln Center?
More questions were on the tip of Brianna’s tongue, but she couldn’t grill her father in front of everyone. She didn’t want to upset him, and after the dustup in the foyer with her mother, Brianna feared getting on her father’s bad side—and pressuring him for details about the police investigation was sure to earn her a one-way ticket there.
But that didn’t mean Brianna was going to sit back and twiddle her thumbs. Tomorrow she was going to call the lead detective on the case. Her sister meant the world to her, and she refused to sit back and let some deranged stalker terrorize her Bailey.
Brianna picked up her glass and downed the rest of her wine. Tomorrow I’m getting to the bottom of th
ings, she vowed, her eyes narrowed in resolve. And no one’s going to stop me.
Chapter 8
“Are you ignoring me or daydreaming about Paris again?”
Brianna blinked, spotted Kyle standing in the doorway of her office and felt her cheeks burn. I’m slowly losing it, she thought, pushing a hand through her dark, thick hair. I can’t stop thinking about Collin long enough to get any work done.
Abandoning all thoughts of Paris, and the thrilling days and nights she’d spent with Collin, she clasped her hands in front of her and forced a smile. One she hoped convinced her brother that all was right in her world, even though it wasn’t.
“Sorry, Kyle, I didn’t hear you come in,” she said, projecting an air of calm as best she could. “What’s up?”
“You tell me.” In his argyle sweater and dark, slim-fitting slacks, Kyle looked more like a pro golfer than an esteemed clothing designer, and as he strode into the office Brianna realized she’d never seen her brother look happier. “Is everything okay?”
“Of course, why wouldn’t it be?”
“Because you’re not acting at all like yourself, and last night you zoned out several times during dinner.” Kyle propped one arm under the other and stroked his chin reflectively. He studied Brianna for a long moment without saying a word, then slowly nodded his head. “I know what’s going on.”
Brianna gulped. Her heartbeat spiked and pounded so loud her eardrums throbbed.
“Sis, it’s pretty obvious.”
“It is?”
Kyle plopped down on the edge of Brianna’s desk. “You’re stressed out about Bailey’s kidnapping, aren’t you? That’s why you’ve been upset and out of sorts.”
Brianna released the breath she was holding. For a panic-filled minute, she’d feared her brother had learned about her Paris tryst and planned to out her to their parents. It turned out Kyle didn’t know anything about Collin, but several minutes passed before her hands stopped shaking and her heartbeat slowed.
