Summer Vows (Arabesque)

by Alers, Rochelle

  Resting her head between his neck and shoulder, Ana pressed a kiss there. “You make me feel beautiful.”

  Jacob caught her ear between his teeth. He wanted to tell her she’d always been beautiful. He’d thought that when he’d first caught a glimpse of her at Diego and Vivienne’s wedding and even more so at his godson’s celebration. Her hair was longer, framing her lovely face and the off-the-shoulder, pale pink, body-hugging dress flattered her compact figure and complexion. He’d noticed everything about her when she’d barely given him a passing glance.

  Jacob gasped when Ana’s tongue found its way into his ear. Cradling his lean face, she kissed him, increasing the pressure until his lips parted; their tongues dueled, thrusting, parrying, and retreating like fencers. Her tongue was a blowtorch, scorching everywhere it touched, tasted.

  Tightening his hold on her slender body, he reversed their position, devouring her mouth. He pulled back, giving Ana and himself a chance to catch their breaths before taking possession of her mouth again in a kiss that made her surrender to his unyielding, relentless assault.

  Ana threw back her head, baring her throat as Jacob rained kisses along the column of her neck, shoulders and down to her breasts. His teeth closed on her nipples and a low keening sound caused the hair to rise on the back of her neck before she realized it had come from her. Seconds later there was another sound, a chorus of moans and groans when Jacob penetrated her. Electricity arced through her body, she straining to get even closer.

  He reversed their position again, pulling out, rising to his feet and stepping out of the tub. Ana didn’t have time to react when she found herself in his arms as he took long, determined steps, walking out of the bathroom and into the bedroom.

  Placing her body on the bed, Jacob moved over Ana and entered her again. It was as if he’d been possessed, sucked into an abyss of uncontrollable passion from which he couldn’t and didn’t want to escape.

  She wrapped her legs around his hips, and he felt the turbulence of her passion sweep him up in a firestorm of the hottest fire. He was lost, submerged, drowning in a maelstrom of desire devouring him mind and soul. And in that moment Jacob knew for certain that he’d never loved another woman. He may have felt lust or even a fleeting infatuation but never love. With Ana it just wasn’t his need to protect her or the need to procreate. It was an uncompromising love, a true love for an eternity.

  Ana didn’t want it to end—not yet. However, her body refused to listen to the dictates of her brain. Raising her hips to allow for deeper penetration, she felt the rigid hardness touch her womb and the orgasms began, swirling uncontrollably seeking escape. She felt Jacob’s heartbeat keeping time with her own, their bodies writhing in a rhythm as old as time as their passions peaked.

  Gripping the pillow under Ana’s head in a deathlike grip, Jacob lowered his face in the pillow, smothering the groans when the explosions in his lower body rocketed him beyond any pleasure he’d ever experienced. He collapsed heavily on Ana, waiting for the lingering vestiges of ecstasy to wane.

  He felt her trembling, and believing she was crying he pulled and stared at her moist face. “What’s wrong, m’ija?”

  A dreamy smile settled into her delicate features. “You should ask me what’s right.” Ana sighed. “Baby-making sex is incredible.”

  Supporting his weight on his elbows, Jacob combed his fingers through her hair, holding it off her forehead. “That’s because you’re incredible.” His expression changed, becoming serious. “Are you sure you want to walk down the aisle with a baby bump?”

  Lines of concern appeared between her eyes. “You don’t want a baby?”

  “Ana, please. Of course I do. I was just thinking about your family’s image.”

  “What family image? I told you my mother was pregnant with Gabriel when she married my father. Vivienne admitted to being pregnant with S.J. before she and Diego were married. And I’ve lost count of some of the other Cole women with buns in the oven when it came time for them to exchange vows. But it’s different with us because we’re already married.”

  He kissed her forehead. “You’re right.”

  They were married yet there were times when Jacob didn’t feel as if they were. When he’d been assigned witness protection he usually would check into a motel with the witness, monitoring everyone coming and going. The only difference with him and Ana was they were married, and instead of living in a motel they were cloistered behind a manned gatehouse in a luxury condominium.

  Rolling off her body, he pulled her bottom to his groin, covering their bodies with a lightweight blanket. The bed was wet but that didn’t matter. What mattered was Ana was safe and he would do anything in his power to keep her safe.

  Earlier that evening he’d brought Jason up-to-date on his plans. Jason would drive Ana’s Ferrari and he would also use her card key which would allow him direct access to the elevator and the condo. There was one stipulation: he would call beforehand to let Jacob know he was coming.

  He’d also directed Ana to suspend the cleaning service until further notice and to avoid using the concierge. Jason would bring groceries, pick up and drop off laundry. His brother-in-law had become the conduit, the connection between keeping Ana alive and those planning her demise.

  There was no evidence of the easygoing demeanor in Jason Ana had spoken of. The talented musician/songwriter was soft-spoken, but also direct and resolute. Perhaps it had taken the threat on his sister’s life or stepping into the role as acting CEO of Serenity Records that had caused the transformation. Jacob didn’t disclose any of the behind-the-scene details to bring down Irvine and Jacob didn’t want to know, because it would compromise his position as a federal agent. Once it was over he wanted to be able to walk out into the sunlight with Ana at his side as wife and partner.

  * * *

  Ana exchanged a look with Jacob when the doorbell echoed throughout the apartment. He’d asked her to teach him to play the piano and she had found him to be a quick study. “Are you expecting anyone?” she asked him.

  “No.”

  She slid off the piano bench. “I’d better go and see who it is.”

  Jacob followed her. “Don’t open it until you find out who it is.”

  “Do you know you’ve said the same thing for the past two weeks.”

  He stared at her hips in a pair of cutoffs. “And I’ll continue to say it lest you forget.”

  “There’s no way I’d ever forget, m’ijo. Not every woman can say she married a superhero.”

  Standing off to the side of the door, Jacob watched as Ana peered through the security eye. “Yes?”

  “I’m Peter from management. Your cleaning service is here.”

  She looked at Jacob. He shook his head. “Wait a minute.” Ana knew something was wrong. She’d suspended the cleaning service two weeks ago, so why would they show up today.

  Jacob moved closer, pressing his mouth to her ear. “Tell him you have to put some clothes on. The minute you open the door I want you duck behind me. Okay?”

  She nodded, then whispered, “Okay.”

  Ana could feel her heart beating outside her chest. “Don’t go away, Peter. I have to put something on.”

  “No problem, Ms. Cole,” came the reply on the other side of the door.”

  The breath congealed in her lungs when Jacob opened the door to the closet in the foyer; reaching for the black duffel he unzipped it and took out a high-caliber handgun. He motioned where she should stand.

  Taking a deep breath, she unlocked the door. In the time it took for her to blink the door flew open, and she wasn’t given time to duck behind Jacob when he reached out and hit the man in the head with the butt of the gun. A shriek escaped her when she saw him press his knee to the man’s back. Peter wore the uniform assigned to the management staff.

  “Close the door
, Ana!” She reacted like an automaton, closing and locking the door. “Look in the duffel and bring me a pair of cuffs and shackles.” He hadn’t shouted, but the authoritative tone had her following his orders without hesitation.

  Hauling Peter to his feet, Jacob literally dragged the man across the foyer and into the living room where he lay in the fetal position. He went through his pockets, smiling when he found a hypodermic. “What’s in this?” Blood trickled from the cut on the man’s scalp. Dark eyes and an equally dark face were filled with fear. “Peter. Is that really your name?” His captive shook his head. “Well, whatever your name is you just screwed yourself. I don’t know who sent you, but I hope you’re familiar with the saying about killing the messenger.”

  The man, who appeared to be just out of his teens panicked. “Please don’t kill me.”

  “I’m not going to kill you, Peter. What I’m going to do is turn you over to someone who would be very interested in what you have to say. Now, tell me what’s in the syringe.”

  Peter’s lower lip trembled. “Heroin.”

  Jacob patted his jaw. “Thank you for your honesty.” Irvine hadn’t sent someone to shoot or stab Ana, but inject her with an illegal narcotic. Reaching for his cell, he tapped a number. “I have someone I’d like for you to meet. He’s a little tied up at the moment, but I’m certain he will make time for you. If you decide to take him out to dinner, then I think he’s going to need a change of clothes. He appears to be a forty-two long, thirty-four waist and sixteen neck. The shoes are okay. Thanks, Caleb. We’ll be here.”

  Peter’s eyes were wide with fear. “What are you going to do to me?”

  “I’m not going to do anything to you. But someone I know will be quite interested in what you have to say.”

  Ana retreated to the balcony, collapsing on a recliner and not wanting to believe how close she’d come to mortal danger. It was if the enormity of why she’d been exiled and now in seclusion hit her like the heat from a blast furnace. Whoever had put the hit on her was relentless. He’d used up his second strike and she prayed he would be stopped before... She didn’t want to think of the alternative.

  Jacob found her on the balcony. “Come, baby. Don’t sit out here in the sun.” Rising, she allowed him to lead her back inside where the cool air feathered over her moist face. The intercom rang. “That’s Caleb. I want you to let him in, then I’d like you to go into the bedroom and stay there until I come for you.”

  Going on tiptoe, Ana curved her arms around his neck. “I love you.”

  His eyes caressed her face. “I love you, too.” What Jacob didn’t tell Ana was that he loved her enough to give up his life to keep her safe.

  Caleb arrived and together they stripped Peter of the condo management department uniform, replacing it with a dark suit and white shirt. Jacob had cleaned the blood from his face and applied a bandage to his scalp. He’d kept his gun trained on him once the cuffs and shackles were removed.

  Caleb’s feral grin bordered on macabre when he picked up the heroin-filled syringe. “Let’s go, buddy. You and I are going to have a little chat, and if you don’t tell me what I want then you’re going to beg for someone to kill you. We’re going downstairs and if you make one false move or sound I’ll blow your head off.” As if to confirm his threat, he pulled back his jacket to display the Desert Eagle. “Ain’t it purty?” The imposter’s knees buckled and Caleb caught him under his shoulder to keep him from falling.

  Jacob walked the two men to the door, opened and then closed it behind them. Three minutes later, after he’d regained his composure, he made his way to the bedroom. Ana lay facedown across the bed. He slipped into bed beside her, resting an arm over her waist.

  “Look at me, Ana.” He counted off the seconds before she turned her head and he felt his stomach muscles contract. She’d been crying. Wiping her tears with his fingertips, he forced a smile. “You’re safe, baby.”

  “Am I really?”

  “Yes. I would never lie to you.”

  Ana leaned closer, touching her mouth to his. “I believe you,” she whispered. And she did believe he would protect her.

  Los Angeles

  “Mr. Irvine, Ms. Sanchez has arrived.”

  Basil’s head popped up and he stared at his impeccably dressed houseboy. He’d tried hiring a butler, but the agency he used to staff his household had put his name on the wait list. The houseboy had come highly recommended, yet for Basil having a butler in his employ would put him above some of the other people in the toney neighborhood that still regarded him as riffraff.

  “Thank you, Thomas. Please show her in.”

  Thomas Yang bowed politely. He turned on his heels and left the room where his boss conducted business. It was opulent and apparently no expense had been spared when it came to decorating it.

  He bowed to the young woman who stood staring at the paintings lining the walls of the expansive entryway. “Ms. Sanchez. Mr. Irvine will see you.” Tossing back a mane of straight raven hair, Saundra Sanchez looked at him as if she smelled something malodorous. “Please come with me.”

  The four-inch stilettos and pencil skirt wouldn’t permit Saundra to keep up with the brisk pace the houseboy had set, so she strolled leisurely, her hips swaying seductively with each step. She’d waited a long time to meet with Basil Irvine, and now that she had the opportunity what she felt was akin to giddiness.

  Smiling and exhibiting a pair of white porcelains, she extended her hand. “It’s a pleasure, Mr. Irvine.” Her gaze swept over his face, taking in everything about the music mogul. His complexion was what people referred to as red-bone. She found his full lips a little off-putting. They were better suited for a woman. However, his eyes were his best feature. Large, gray and mysterious.

  To say Basil was larger than life was an understatement when he rose to his feet. He was tall, broad-shouldered and his massive bulk was artfully disguised under the expensive fabric of a tailor-made suit.

  Basil ignored the proffered hand, dipping his head and pressing a kiss to her cheek. “It’s my pleasure, Ms. Sanchez. Would you mind if I call you Saundra?”

  Her smile widened. “You may, only if I can call you Basil.” Throwing back his head, he laughed loudly. “What’s so funny?”

  “My name is pronounced Base-sill, not Bass-sill.”

  Saundra inclined her head. “I’m sorry. My mother was born in England, so there are times when I slip into the British vernacular.”

  “Please sit down, Saundra. Can I have my houseboy bring you something to drink?”

  She sat on a brocade armchair. “I never drink alone.”

  “If that’s the case, then I’ll join you. What do you want?”

  “An extra-dry, extra-dirty double gin martini.”

  Basil gave her a Cheshire cat grin. “I like a woman who knows how to drink.” He walked to the decoratively carved doors to the room where he spent most of his time when at home and saw Thomas sitting on a chair at the end of the hall. He beckoned him. “I need you to tend bar. Make me my usual.”

  “What about Ms. Sanchez?”

  Basil gave Thomas his guest’s drink order. He returned to sit opposite the beautifully exotic woman whose face matched an extraordinary voice. When he’d heard the demo one of his employees had given him Basil knew he’d been redeemed. Saundra Sanchez had become his golden goose because she was the total package.

  “I was blown away when I heard your demo.”

  “So you liked it?”

  “Liked it? I loved it. That’s why I asked to meet you.”

  Saundra’s short skirt rose even higher on her trim thighs when she crossed one bare leg over the opposite knee, achieving the reaction she sought when Basil’s jaw literally dropped. “Do you usually hold business meetings in your home?”

  He tented his fingers. “Occasionally I do.�
��

  Combing her fingers through her long, silky hair, Saundra tucked several strands behind her left ear. “And I agreed to meet you in your home because I want a recording contract. I’m a twenty-six-year-old wannabe actress. I’ve gone to so many auditions that every casting director in L.A. knows my face and name.” She leaned forward on the chair. “I could’ve gotten a few major parts, but there is one thing I refuse to do. I will not compromise my morals for anything or anyone.”

  “And you won’t have to with me, Saundra.” Basil held out his hands, palms up. “You want to become a recording artist and I’ll make that possible for you. What I can’t do is make you a star. But if you work with me and my people you can have any and everything you want.”

  Saundra smiled at the houseboy when he handed her the chilled glass and a cocktail napkin. “Thank you.” She waited for Basil to accept a highball glass filled with an amber liquid. Raising her martini glass, she lowered her gaze, peering at him through her lashes. “Here’s to you making me a star.”

  “To stardom,” Basil intoned, taking a deep swallow of his drink.

  Saundra took furtive sips of her drink as she stared at the large man sitting only a few feet away. “What are you willing to offer me?”

  Basil drained his glass, setting it down on a round marble-topped table. “Are you always so direct?”

  “Yes.”

  That was the last word exchanged between them as Basil’s head slumped, his chin touching his chest. Saundra set her glass on the table, rose to her feet and nodded to Thomas. “Will you please show me out? It appears as if Mr. Irvine has a problem holding his liquor.”

  “That’s all right, Ms. Sanchez. I’ll help him get into bed.”

  The sun was just beginning to set over the Hollywood hills when she climbed into the rear of the waiting car. She waited until the driver maneuvered onto the interstate leading northward to San Francisco to pull off the wig, remove the contact lenses, methodically remove layers of professional makeup that transformed her from blonde-haired, blue-eyed Allison Turner to exotic Latina Saundra Sanchez. She completed the total makeover when, using fine-tipped tweezers, removed the transparent ovals covering her fingertips.