Summer Vows (Arabesque)

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Summer Vows (Arabesque) Page 23

by Alers, Rochelle


  Leaning over her, Jacob pressed a kiss to each eye. He undid the towel, smiling. The sun loved Ana. It had kissed her body, the rich brown color of the skin on her arms and shoulders contrasting with the lighter hue on her small, firm breasts.

  “Do you golf?”

  Ana opened her eyes. “No.”

  “Have you ever tried it?”

  “The closest I got to golfing is a driving range and I wound up with blisters.”

  Jacob dabbed her throat and shoulders. “That’s because you didn’t wear gloves. Will you go golfing with me tomorrow if I get you a pair of gloves?”

  “Sure.” Ana closed her eyes again, luxuriating in the feel of Jacob’s hands on her body. “I don’t know about you, but so far I’m giving Cannamore a top rating.”

  “I totally agree with you.” Sitting back on his heels, he kissed her belly. “You’re going to have to turn over so I can dry your back.”

  Ana sat up, wresting the towel from Jacob’s grip. “Now it’s my turn. Lie down, darling.”

  He stared at her under lowered lids. “I’m almost dry.”

  “Lie down, husband. On your belly.”

  “Aye, aye, wife.”

  Waiting until he lay as she’d instructed, Ana blotted droplets from Jacob’s broad, muscled shoulders, down his straight spine and over his hips. His body was lean, strong and beautifully proportioned. She continued drying his legs and feet, lingering to dry between his toes.

  She tossed the damp towel on the floor, then lay atop him, her face pressed to the column of his neck. “Am I too heavy for you?”

  “You must be kidding. I can hardly feel you. But I do feel something else that’s giving me a hard-on.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Yes, really.”

  Trailing her fingertips along his ribs, Ana blew in his ear. Jacob bucked under her. “Do you like that?”

  “What do you think?” he asked, burying his face in the pillow. “What are you trying to do?”

  “I’m seducing my husband. Do you have a problem with that?”

  “No. But right now you have me at a distinct disadvantage.”

  Ana’s mouth traveled downward from Jacob’s ear to his shoulder. “I doubt that, m’ijo. You’re at least a foot taller and probably outweigh me by at least fifty pounds.”

  Jacob chuckled. “Try eighty, m’ija. I’m six-three and weigh two-ten.”

  She didn’t want to tell him that he was more than ninety pounds heavier than she was. She and her sister had inherited their mother’s body type and metabolism. While in high school Ana was teased by girls who’d claimed she was bulimic; although she’d consumed her share of burgers, fries and shakes they hadn’t known her twice-a-day regimen of swimming laps in her family’s inground pool offset the calorie-laden diet.

  “Don’t move,” she whispered, placing tiny kisses down his back. Jacob ignored her warning not to move when her hand slipped between his thighs, cradling his testicles.

  A low growl echoed in the room when he suddenly turned over, nearly knocking her off the bed. He caught her before she landed on the floor.

  Ana sprang up with the quickness of pouncing cat. She lay on his chest. Once more her hand searched between his legs, but Jacob outmaneuvered her when, using his superior strength, lifted her over his erection. With one sure thrust of his hips he was inside her.

  She bit back a scream of ecstasy when she felt every inch of the hardened flesh stretching the walls of her vagina. There was something about this coupling that was so unrestrained and primal that she feared climaxing much too soon. Passion and lust pounded her head, heart and at the apex of her thighs. If Ana had any doubt as to whether she was in love with Jacob it fled at that moment.

  What she felt for the man whose name she claimed wasn’t about sex or gratitude. It was about Jacob himself. He was the first man she’d met who permitted Ana to be herself. She was more than aware of her strengths and weaknesses, and one was her teasing nature. There were times when she did tease men to see how far they would let her go. Most of them weren’t as tolerant as Jacob, and for that she was grateful.

  Then there were others who’d wanted her to sleep with them after one or two dates. Those who were willing to wait her requisite three months before sex she obliged. Others who claimed they weren’t used to a woman using her body as a bargaining chip quickly moved on.

  Her best-laid plans and prerequisites were forgotten when it came to the man making the most exquisite love to her she’d ever known. She loved his strength, the clean masculine scent of his body, beautifully formed hands and feet. Ana loved listening to his deep, soothing voice with a lingering hint of a drawl that indicated he’d grown up in the American South.

  Bracing her hands on his shoulders, she stared at Jacob staring up at her. The carnality in his expression caused her to hold her breath until the constriction in her lungs forced her to expel it or faint.

  Lowering her head, she lightly touched her lips to his before devouring his mouth, her tongue tracing the outline of his full, sensual lower lip. There was no teasing as her mouth and hands worked their magic, tasting, exploring and discovering a minute scar on his chest hidden by the mat of hair.

  “What happened?” she whispered in his ear.

  “Don’t talk, baby. Just love me,” Jacob groaned.

  And she did love Jacob not with words but with the most intimate way possible—with her body. A moan slipped past her lips when his fingers tightened on her waist setting a rhythm as old as time when she rose and fell over his blood-engorged sex. In a moment of insanity she forgot about the men she’d met, those who’d cheated on her, and that they were making love without using protection. Her breath came faster and faster, moans escalating until Ana threw back her head and screamed as passion tore through her like a twister, shattering her into a million infinitesimal pieces.

  Jacob managed to reverse their position without pulling out. He’d wanted to slow down the passion rushing headlong throughout his body, but the heat from Ana ignited an even hotter inferno. His thrusts grew stronger, communicating his need to possess her totally. If he could he would put her inside of himself if only to savor her essence every second, minute, hour, day, week, month, year, and beyond when both would cease to exist. He felt her hot flesh squeezing his as she climaxed, and unable to hold back his own rising desire he spilled his passions inside her hot, pulsing body.

  Waiting until his heart resumed a normal rate Jacob rolled off her body, tucking her bottom against his groin. “Are you all right?”

  Ana exhaled an audible sigh. “Yes.”

  “I didn’t hurt you?”

  “No, mi amor.” A beat passed. “How did you get that scar on your chest?”

  “That’s a long story.”

  “We have all night,” she said softly. “In fact we have nothing but time. How many people can say that?”

  “Not many,” Jacob agreed. “I suppose there are a few things you should know about me.”

  “A few, Jacob?”

  He kissed her again. “Okay. What do you want to know first?”

  “The scar.”

  “That happened when I was twelve. A friend found his granddaddy’s pellet gun and didn’t know it was loaded. He pointed the gun at me and pulled the trigger. The pellet struck me in the chest. If it’d been an inch lower I wouldn’t be here talking to you. The police would’ve charged him with reckless endangerment if my dad hadn’t intervened on his behalf. He didn’t want him to have a criminal record. Years later Dad blamed himself for interfering.”

  “Why? What happened to the kid?”

  “The last I heard he’s serving twenty-five to life for murder. He had a confrontation with his girlfriend’s brother and in a fit of rage shot him in the head.”

  Ana shuddered noticeably. �
�That’s horrible.”

  “That’s because some people are horrible.”

  She listened intently when Jacob told her about her about his time in the corps. Before being assigned to a Foreign Service post he’d successfully completed a training program with the Corps Embassy Security Group. Her eyelids were drooping by the time he’d mentioned serving three twelve-month tours of duty at embassies in East Africa, Central Europe and South America. She was barely aware when Jacob pulled a sheet over them, then succumbed to a comforting, dreamless sleep.

  Sleep wasn’t as kind to Jacob. He’d disclosed things about himself only his parents knew. He turned off the lamps and settled down against the warm body of the woman who’d turned his orderly life upside down. He’d survived being shot, guarding U.S. embassies in regions where Americans were regarded as the enemy, and he’d tracked down fugitives who’d sworn they would never be apprehended alive.

  He’d faced death and had confronted the devil several times in the guise of fugitive kidnappers, serial killers and pedophiles and had come out unscathed because of his mother’s prayers. She claimed to have prayed for him every night since giving birth to him and continued to do so. It’d been too long since he’d prayed, and never for himself. It was time he began. And the prayers would not only be for himself but also Ana.

  What he refused to think about was the fact she might be carrying his child. They had talked about giving their marriage a trial run, but not children. Jacob knew if this coupling resulted in pregnancy, then there would be no annulment or divorce.

  Los Angeles

  “Do not tell me you don’t know where she is.” A large vein appeared in Basil’s forehead. His contact at Serenity had dropped the ball. “How can someone just drop off the face of the earth?”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Irvine,” came a woman’s voice through his cell phone’s speaker feature. “I told you the office has been closed because we’re relocating.”

  “Where?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Basil’s hands fisted. “I don’t pay you for ‘I don’t know.’ I pay you well to give me information and right now I need to know where your boss is.”

  “If I knew I’d tell you.”

  “What about her brother?”

  “He closed the office and gave everyone paid vacation. Jason said he’ll contact everyone individually when he wants us to return.”

  “Have you spoken to your other coworkers?”

  “A few. But they know what I know.”

  “Can you contact Jason?”

  “I think so. I have his cell number.”

  Basil paced the length of the wall-to-wall windows. “Call him.”

  “And tell him what?”

  He ignored the panic in her voice. “Tell him anything. Just find out where his sister is.”

  “I’ll try, Mr. Irvine.”

  Basil stopped pacing. “Don’t try. Just do it. You have less than a week to give me what I want, otherwise...”

  “Otherwise what, Mr. Irvine?”

  “Maybe your boss will discover they’ve employed a snitch. And you know what they say about snitches.”

  “I know. They get stitches.” She paused. “I hate that I ever got into this.”

  “It’s too late now, baby. You’re a very pretty girl and it would be a shame if someone carved up that lovely face.”

  “I have to go now.”

  “Remember. One week.”

  Basil tapped a button, ending the call. He’d finally rid himself of the annoying, lingering headache, but his obsession with finding Ana Cole persisted. She reminded him of his mother although they’d looked nothing alike. He’d grown up abused and ridiculed by a woman who claimed he’d ruined her life when she discovered herself pregnant with a married man’s baby. And she reminded him every day how much he looked like his father—a man she claimed she hated to her grave. Whenever he said something she didn’t like she slapped him across the face. The taunts and slapping continued until he turned fifteen. By that time he was over six foot and had begun to put on muscle from a regimen of lifting weights. The last time his mother raised her hand to hit him he nearly broke her arm.

  However, it had been different with Webb. His younger brother had been their mother’s pride and joy. Although she hadn’t married Webb’s father, because he, too, was a married man, at least he stuck around, giving her money and buying her nice clothes until he was killed in a hit-and-run. By this time Basil had moved out and began hustling. He took orders from those in the neighborhood, stealing everything from clothes and jewelry to electronic equipment. One thing he refused to do was get involved in narcotics and instead of wearing flashy clothes or buying an expensive car, he saved his money. His goal was to become a successful businessman. Hard work, determination and years of sacrifice had paid off when he opened Slow Wyne in a small building in a rundown section of L.A. All of that changed once he signed artists whose first albums went gold weeks after they dropped. He moved Slow Wyne from the ghetto to a downtown high-rise, becoming a major player in the music industry.

  “What do you think now, brother?”

  Webb rolled his head on his neck. “You should’ve never threatened her. She’s scared, Basil. And that means you can’t trust her.”

  Sitting on the corner of his desk, Basil swung his imported leather-shod foot. “She’s not going to mess up.”

  “I just hope you’re right.”

  “I know you want me to drop this, but I can’t. And I do need your support.”

  Stretching out his legs, Webb crossed his feet at the ankles. “Where is this coming from, Basil? When have I not supported you?”

  A beat passed. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize. Just get rid of the bitch.”

  West Palm Beach, Florida

  David Cole had to pry the cell phone from the hand of the young woman with a gun pointed at her head. He glared at her before setting it on a table out of her reach.

  Her lower lip trembled. “Please...please tell him to put the gun down.”

  David nodded to the man who’d pressed the barrel of a small-caliber automatic at Charlene Brook’s head. The threat to kill her if she didn’t call Basil had worked. However, what the duplicitous woman didn’t know was the gun wasn’t loaded.

  “Can I go now?” Charlene asked.

  Martin Cole rose from a chair where he’d sat in the shadows of the library during the telephone conversation. As patriarch he’d convened all adult male family members to discuss Ana’s exile. Missing were Joshua’s son-in-law federal circuit judge Christopher Blackwell Delgado, FBI special agent Gavin Faulkner and CIA special agent Merrick Grayslake. These three had taken an oath to uphold the law and what the men cloistered in the West Palm Beach library planned to do was break it.

  He gestured to the man who’d held the gun on Charlene. “Get her outta here. And make certain at no time she’s left alone.”

  Charlene panicked. “I want to go home.”

  Martin’s expression became a mask of stone when he glared at Charlene. The talented sound engineer had everything going for her with the exception of self-esteem. Tall, curvy with a flawless café au lait complexion, chemically straightened, shoulder-length auburn hair and catlike light brown eyes, Charlene had been seeing Basil Irvine and her treacherous actions were unforgivable.

  “My niece also wants to come home, but she can’t because of you. How twisted can you be that you set up Ana to be killed when she was nothing but good to you?” He waved his hand in dismissal. “Get her outta here,” he said to the P.I.

  “What do we do now, David?” Timothy asked his uncle.

  Light from a floor lamp spilled over David’s face, highlighting the thin scar running along his left cheek. “We wait. Ana’s in good hands with Jacob.” He frowne
d at Diego. “I still don’t like that she was forced into an arranged marriage.”

  Joshua affected a smile. “Just think, little brother. If she decides to stay married, then you’re ahead in the wager.”

  “Very funny, Josh,” David drawled. “You wait until you’re damn near close to ninety to become a flipping stand-up comic.”

  “Easy, hermano,” Joshua said in a quiet tone. “Martin’s closer to ninety than anyone else sitting in this room.

  Diego laughed, then sobered. “I don’t know what you old heads are talking about, but let’s get back to why we’re here. Ana being married to Jake is not an issue. I asked him to take care of her because I trust him with my life, Vivienne’s and S.J.’s. This has been hard on all of us, the women in particular. Even though Tyler’s home from the hospital, there is still the strain on Dana of having to take care of him and the children in her condition. Martin, I know you want them to stay here, but I’m willing to offer my house on Jupiter Island. I’ll also arrange to have a nanny and housekeeper to help Dana with the kids.”

  Martin’s expressive eyebrows lifted a fraction. “You’ll have to talk to Parris about it. You know she loves having the grandkids around.”

  “May I make a suggestion?” Matthew Sterling asked, speaking for the first time.

  David stared at the man who’d been former army special forces and a professional mercenary. Matt had not only saved his life, but also Joshua’s. He’d cemented his tie to the Coles when his stepson married his niece. “Sure, Matt.”

  Gold-green eyes shimmered in a face deeply tanned from the New Mexico sun. “I agree with Diego about sending Tyler and his family to Jupiter Island. But you should also consider sending Parris and Serena along with them. That way they can become Dana’s support group. You don’t want her to have that baby before its due date.

  “And we already know Irvine was sleeping with that girl whose body was found in the desert, and also who has been feeding him information as to Ana’s whereabouts. The next thing is springing the trap, and we all know when it goes down Slow Wyne may end up with a few casualties.”

 

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