by Unknown
“Can I come back on now?” Helen asked into the receiver.
“Yes,” Sam answered.
“I’m sure Sam has asked the obvious question,” Helen said. “But doesn’t it appear convenient to either of you that she happened to have the procedure just before you started dating?”
Rafael’s heart hammered against his ribs. “You think—” He couldn’t go on.
“Seems a convenient coincidence now that I think about it,” Sam said. “Good point, sugar.”
“You were too close to think of it,” Helen commented.
“You said she was upset,” Sam commented. “If she’d planned the pregnancy, she’d be happy, even though it meant breaking up with you.”
“Not if she really cared about Rafael, which I believe she does,” Helen said.
Rafael told them about Nathalyia picking up the rose. “I don’t know what to think.”
“Women will mess up your mind worse than anything,” Sam said.
“Since in this case you’re right and I love you, I won’t point out that men can work a woman’s last nerve,” Helen said.
“Since I love you, all I can say is, thank you,” Sam said.
Rafael felt the corners of his mouth curve upward. “I think that’s my cue to hang up.”
“Sometimes things aren’t the way they seem,” Helen said. “And pregnancy makes a woman’s hormones go crazy. I believe with everything within me that Nathalyia cares. Pregnancy, even when expected, can be scary. She just might need some time to figure things out, the way Brianna did.”
Patrick had fallen in love with Brianna before either knew she was pregnant with another man’s child. He’d claimed the child as his and none of them thought differently. Helen must really be worried about him if she’d brought it up.
“The difference is that Nathalyia and I were just seeing each other. We weren’t serious,” he said.
“I seem to recall Alec saying the same thing about Celeste,” Helen said. “Don’t you, Sam?”
“Exact same words, and now look at them.” Sam chuckled. “One or the other is burning up the highway between here and Charleston until their December wedding.”
“This is different.”
Sam laughed. “I think he said that, too.” Helen’s laughter joined that of her husband’s.
Rafael was not amused. “I have to go. Night.”
“Night, Rafael,” Helen said. “Just remember, I think we’ve established that women don’t think as logically during pregnancy. Give Nathalyia time.”
“I’m not sure I want to,” he said.
“If you didn’t, your gut wouldn’t be doing somersaults. You’d be asleep in bed, which is where we’re going,” Sam said. “Night.”
“Night.” Rafael hung up the phone, his mind swirling. Could it be possible that Nathalyia was pregnant with his child? But if she was, why had she lied? And if it was her deceased husband’s, did he still want to go out with her? The resounding answer came to him.
He still wanted her. He pushed to his feet. Lasting relationships weren’t for him. That hadn’t changed. No matter what Helen and Sam thought, whatever had been between him and Nathalyia was over. He’d just have to deal with it.
“Damn.”
Jake saw Clarice’s car the next morning at Nathalyia’s house. She hadn’t gone home last night. He didn’t want to face her. She probably would have laughed off the kiss, but he’d had to go and put his hands on her hips.
He blew out a breath. He’d really stepped over the friendship line with that move. His only hope was that she’d just think he was trying to console her.
He took a deep breath and knocked on the back door. If there was no answer he’d go around the front and ring the doorbell. It was almost nine. Both women should be up. Nathalyia was usually at the restaurant by ten.
The door opened. Clarice stood there. Desire surged though him. Once unleashed, it was more difficult to control. “Morning.”
“Good morning, Jake. Are you coming in or are you going to stand there all morning?”
He relaxed a bit. This was the teasing Clarice he was used to. He stepped inside, frowning as he did so because she didn’t step back. He looked at her. “What—”
That was all he got out before she had her arms around his neck, her lips and body pressed against his. The kiss shattered his composure and his carefully made plans. He pulled her to him, feeding on her sweet mouth, his hands roaming freely over her voluptuous body.
She broke off the kiss. He had to fight not to pull her back into his arms. “I just wanted to see if last night was a fluke.”
For once he couldn’t read her. “And?”
She grinned. “Maybe after a dozen or so, I’ll be able to tell you.”
“It’s about time.”
Jake and Clarice swung around to see Nathalyia, then they quickly stepped away from each other. “I’m sorry. We’re supposed to be here for you,” Clarice said.
“Now wasn’t the time,” Jake added.
“I disagree,” Nathalyia said, her mouth slightly curved. “In fact, it helps to see you two finally discover what’s in front of you. And I have a restaurant to run.”
Clarice frowned. “Jake, did a cab bring you?”
There was the briefest pause before he said, “I walked.”
Clarice swatted him on the shoulder, then shook her hand. “Ouch.”
He frowned and caught her hand. “You hurt?”
“I forgot how solidly you were built,” she said, then smiled at him. “Maybe you can kiss it and make it better.”
His eyes narrowed. “If I do—” He dropped her hand and jerked around to stare at Nathalyia. “I’ll see you at the restaurant.”
“Run, but I know where to find you,” Clarice said to his retreating back.
“I never thought I’d see the day,” Nathalyia said.
“To tell you the truth, neither did I.” Clarice sighed. “The kiss last night surprised me.”
“Last night?”
“We’re not as callous as it sounds.”
Nathalyia touched her arm. “I never thought that. You didn’t have to stay with me last night.”
“I didn’t want you to be alone,” Clarice told her. “It was after I came downstairs. He was trying to console me. I think it took both of us by surprise.”
“Jake’s a good man.”
“I know.” Clarice picked up her purse. “Who would have thought a man who didn’t want to use me was right under my nose?”
“Clarice, go easy on him.” Nathalyia continued through the kitchen and out the back door.
“Oh, I plan to . . . up to a point.” Giggling, Clarice followed Nathalyia out the door.
Rafael arrived at work the next morning with a forced smile and a jaunty wave. He was determined to get on with his life. He’d thought about it a lot during a long restless night. No matter what Helen thought, Nathalyia wasn’t carrying his child. He reasoned her tears, picking up the rose when she thought he wasn’t looking, meant she did care about him and hadn’t wanted to end the affair.
It took a great deal of soul searching and trying to see things from her perspective—which was damn difficult—to realize she’d probably been scared as Helen had thought. She might have even had second thoughts about the pregnancy because of him. Whatever else, Nathalyia cared about children. She’d want the best for her child.
In all fairness to both of them, she was right to end the affair. She’d gotten under his skin more than he had realized. She was slipping into his life as much as into his subconscious. As his team members and Sam had pointed out, he had changed his game plan with her.
He pulled out a chair, sat behind his desk, and punched on the computer. Perhaps that was it. He needed to get back in the game. A bit of hair of the dog, so to speak. He winced at the unflattering analogy and reached for his mouse. Yet the idea of getting back into the dating game had merit.
He heard the click of a woman’s heels on the tile floor and l
ooked up to see a leggy brunette headed his way. She wore a fitted navy blue sheath that showed off full breasts and a slim waist. While she wasn’t beautiful, he liked the easy smile she wore.
Getting up from his desk, he smiled. “Good morning, may I help you?”
“Why, yes, thank you. I’m Lisa Sims.” Her smile widened. “I’m looking for the public relations department. I’m doing research on a book, but I seem to have taken a wrong turn.”
“I could show you, but why bother when I can answer all of your questions.” He held out his hand. “Rafael Dunlap, lieutenant with the SORT unit.”
A frown pleated her brow. “Sort?”
“S.O.R.T. Special Operations Response Team. I’m a negotiator,” he told her.
“You’re so young,” she began, then rolled her eyes. “Forgive me. Age has nothing to do with it.”
“That’s all right. I’m kind of used to it.” He admired a woman who could be so open. His thoughts went to Nathalyia and he quashed them. “Have dinner with me tomorrow night. Once I have clearance from the chief, I can answer any questions you might have.”
“This is my lucky day.” Reaching into her bag for a business card and a pen, she wrote on the back and gave it to Rafael. “My home address and cell phone number.”
Rafael stuck the card in the shirt pocket of his uniform without looking at it. “I’ll pick you up around eight. I know a quiet Italian restaurant where we can talk.”
She beamed. “I’ll see you at eight.”
With a slight frown on his face, Rafael watched her walk away.
“The king is back on the throne.” Diaz slapped him on the back. “I guess this proves to Cannon that she was wrong.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Cannon said. “It just proves some men are in denial.”
Diaz folded his arms in annoyance. “My money is on Dunlap. No woman can get the best of him.”
“We’ll see,” Cannon said, walking off.
“She thinks she knows everything.” Diaz slung his arm around Rafael’s shoulders. “You’ll show her.”
Rafael wasn’t sure about showing anyone. He just knew the thrill he usually felt at the beginning of a new relationship wasn’t there. He definitely didn’t like the feeling that he had somehow betrayed Nathalyia.
Clarice wanted to laugh aloud. She had made a man who could bench press three hundred pounds, a man who was a decorated war hero, nervous. Ever since they’d arrived at work that morning, Jake had been watching her as if he didn’t know what to expect. A smile tickled her lips. Good. She didn’t know what to expect either.
She just knew she enjoyed having self-assured and bossy Jake a bit wary of her. For the first time in a relationship—and there would be one—she wasn’t the one unsure and afraid.
She also realized that his actions meant he cared. Just as she had cared about the clowns she’d dated who trampled her feelings. She’d never do that to Jake.
As if he were aware that she was watching and thinking of him, he slowly turned. She had time to school her expression to innocence. “One cosmopolitan for table seven.”
Nodding abruptly, he went to fix the drink.
Clarice’s lips twitched. You’d never know it by looking at those broad shoulders and that muscular build that he could be a pushover in some areas. In others, he was as bossy as they came.
“Here.” He sat the order on the bar in front of her and immediately turned away.
“Thanks.” Placing the drink on the tray, she started for the table, speculating on how long he’d cared for her. She might be flighty and make snap decisions, but she’d learned from working with him for three years that Jake weighed things, considered his options.
“One cosmopolitan.” She placed the drink on the booth table in front of the attractive woman in a gray tailored business suit and red silk blouse. Anything else?”
“No, thank you. What’s my tab? I just received a call and need to go back to work.” She looked at the drink and sighed. “I was on my way home. That is definitely going on my office expense account since I can’t drink it.”
Clarice chuckled. There were a lot of businessmen and women who came in for lunch. The vast majority ordered alcohol, but stuck to only one. Clarice pulled out her pad and tabulated the woman’s meal with dessert: “Thirty-seven dollars and seventy-five cents.”
The woman reached for her brown-checkered purse and pulled a gold American Express credit card out of a matching wallet.
“I’ll hurry and run this so you can leave.”
“Thanks. My boss can be demanding, but I enjoy my job, and the pay is good.”
“I know just what you mean,” Clarice said, thinking of Jake. She turned and saw Theresa watching her. She didn’t trust the woman. Continuing to the bar, she ran the credit card and returned. “Here you go.”
Signing the bill, the woman grabbed her car keys off the tabletop. “Thank you and have a great day.” Clarice gave her the carbon and picked up the drink to take to the bar and discard it.
“Is something wrong with the drink?” Jake asked.
“No. She had to return to work unexpectedly.” Clarice waited until he reached for the drink. “So, you going to follow me home tonight so I can do some more testing?”
The tips of Jake’s ears turned fiery red.
“I won’t take no for an answer,” she told him. “You know how persistent I can be when I want something.” Picking up her tray, she started to go check on another table. Anger hit her. She quickly reached the booth the last customer had vacated and snatched the Louis Vuitton purse from Theresa.
“I just saw it when I walked by,” Theresa quickly explained. “I was going to take it to Nathalyia.”
“You—”
“Clarice, not here.” Jake took the handbag from her. “Your customer is waiting, Theresa.”
“You believe me, don’t you, Jake?” Theresa asked, stepping closer to the bartender and looking up into his face.
Clarice reached for Theresa. Jake deftly stepped between them. “Theresa, table six is waiting.”
Flipping her long black wig off her shoulder, Theresa stared at Clarice as if she wanted to push the issue, then swished away.
“That—”
“Clarice,” Jake warned as he glanced over her shoulder.
“I see you found it,” the woman said, rushing to them and reaching for the designer handbag. “I was in such a hurry. I had my keys out and didn’t notice I didn’t have my bag until I was in my car and needed my phone.”
“You want to check the contents?” Jake asked.
The woman appeared surprised by the request, then sat at the booth, and went through the handbag. After a few moments, she looked up with a smile. “Everything’s here. I didn’t suspect otherwise.” She made a face and came to her feet. “This isn’t the first time I’ve left my bag behind. I wasn’t as fortunate at the department store. Thanks again.”
“You’re welcome. Please come again,” Jake told her. Once she was out of hearing distance, he said to Clarice, “Take a break and cool down. Nathalyia doesn’t need to deal with this right now.”
“She—”
“Don’t.” Grasping her arm, Jake didn’t stop until he was outside and on the walkway. “Calm down. We’ll discuss this tonight when I follow you home.” Leaving her with her mouth agape, he reentered the restaurant.
This was a mistake. Jake kept telling himself that, but he continued to follow Clarice up the stairs to her second-floor apartment. He had planned to make up some excuse about not being able to follow her home, but had changed his mind after it had taken her three tries to start her car. He wasn’t about to let her drive home at 1:35 A.M. by herself with her car acting up.
“Thanks for following me home,” Clarice tossed over her shoulder as she unlocked her door. “Come on in.”
He didn’t move. “I should be going.”
“I really need to talk to you.” She stepped inside the apartment. She switched on the overhead light, but it
was on dim, giving the room an intimate feel.
He should refuse. But there wasn’t much he wouldn’t do to help Clarice or make her happy. He followed her inside and kept his hands in his pockets to keep him out of trouble. “I can’t stay long.”
“We’ll see.” She closed the door behind him.
Her voice changed to a seductive purr and had every nerve ending in Jake’s body on alert. He needed to get out of there and fast. He turned and came up against Clarice’s lush body, felt the heat, the fire. He told his feet to move, but somehow it was his hands moving to draw her to him. His mouth greedily fastened on hers. Leaving became the furthest thing from his mind.
Pleasure rushed through him as she arched into him. She tasted sweet and wild. His tongue probed and teased. He couldn’t get enough. Neither could his hands that swept up the curve of her back and around to cover her breasts. She moaned as his hands cupped her; his thumbs brushed across her rigid nipples.
“Oh, Jake.” She moved restlessly against him.
He had the crazy thought that he wished he had more hands so he could hold her breasts and her hips at the same time. He wanted his hands, his mouth, all over her.
She jerked his shirt out of his pants, ran her hands over his muscled chest, then lowered her head and licked his nipple. He groaned and locked his trembling leg.
“My turn.” Quickly removing her blouse and bra, he ran his tongue over her distended nipple and caressed her. Her trembling hands clasped him to her, urging him on.
“Jake.”
He loved having his hands on her, loved that he pleased her, loved that he made her hot and wet. He picked her up in his arms. He didn’t think he’d make it to the bedroom so he placed her on the sofa, following her down, covering her body with his.
His hand reached for the hem of her skirt and slowly slid it up her thigh, enjoying the feel of her silken skin. He touched the elastic of her panties and groaned. His heart hammered so fast and so hard he felt light-headed.
“Don’t stop.” Her plea came out breathy and full of need. If possible, his erection hardened even more.
