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Four Degrees of Heat

Page 18

by Rochelle Alers, ReShonda Tate Billingsley, Brenda L. Thomas; Crystal Lacey Winslow


  “One thing you did right was not make any babies, even though my sister wants grandbabies in the worse way,” Bettina continued, mumbling angrily.

  Drew stared at Carmen, who’d turned her back. Then, without warning, she turned and handed her bouquet of white flowers with streamers of pink ribbons to Nina. A loud groan mingled with laughter as Nina dropped the bouquet as if it were a venomous reptile. Carmen bent down, picked it up, and handed it to her again. Throwing back his head, Drew laughed loudly with the others.

  Wayne joined his wife and curved an arm around her waist. The best man brought over a seat, and Carmen sat down. Kneeling, Wayne lifted the skirt of the white sheath gown dotted with seeded pearls and slid a lacy garter down her thigh and off her leg.

  He twirled the garter around his forefinger, grinning broadly. “Come on, brothers, it’s your turn.” Twice as many men stood up, ranging in age from late teens to over seventy. “Sit down, Grandpa, before Grandma puts a hurting on you.” Grinning sheepishly, the elderly man made his way back to his table, where his wife awaited him. She swiped at him with a cloth napkin, eliciting another round of laughter.

  Pushing back his chair, Drew rose to his feet and joined the others. He’d thought about not getting up, but then changed his mind.

  Bettina smiled across the table at her sister. “There’s hope for your boy yet.”

  Drew’s mother rolled her eyes at her twin sister before sucking her teeth. “At least I have aboy , Bettina Nelson.” What she did not add was that at least she’d had a husband, even though she had been widowed for the past eight years. “But in case you haven’t looked lately—heis a man.”

  “There’s no need to take that tone with me, Audrey. Just because he put on a suit and tie, that still don’t make up for his thuggish lifestyle.”

  Audrey decided it was useless to argue with her sister and watched Drew as he waited for her nephew to throw the garter. A bright smile lit up her face when he reached over a shorter man’s head to snag the lacy garment.

  Amid a chorus of groans, Drew held tightly to the garter. Turning, he stared at Nina, who had retreated to her table. Crossing his arms over his chest, he angled his head. He raised a forefinger and beckoned her.

  Kim placed a hand on Nina’s back. “Get up there, girl.”

  Nina shook her head. “No. Let him come to me.” Raising her left hand, she repeated his gesture.

  There was a stunned silence as Drew walked toward her like a stalking cat. Nina hadn’t realized she was holding her breath until he stood over her. Everything that was Andrew Lancaster swept over her in an instant: his height, the breadth of his wide shoulders, the golden eyes that burned with a mysterious fire, and the hauntingly sensual scent of his cologne.

  A wave of heat swept up her chest and settled in her face. Her gaze met Drew’s as he went to one knee in front of her. The lacy garter trimmed in a pale blue ribbon hung around his wrist like a bracelet.

  His gaze never wavered as he stared at her. She jumped slightly when his fingers feathered up the generous front slit in the dress and parted it to reveal a pair of shapely legs encased in sheer nylon.

  “Hurry up,” she hissed between her teeth.

  Drew shook his head slowly. “It would’ve been quick if you’d come to me. But since you didn’t, then I’m calling the shots.” Nina closed her eyes against his grin once he eased her dress up over her knees.

  “Very nice,” he crooned once the tops of her thighs were exposed. He hesitated, visually feasting on her legs before he took the garter from his wrist. Lifting her foot, he slid it up her leg and over her thigh. He straightened and offered her his hand. She placed her hand in his, and he led her out to the dance floor as everyone applauded.

  The DJ played the Temptations’ oldie, “Just My Imagination,” as Drew eased Nina to his chest. The top of her head came to his shoulder.

  “How long have you known Carmen?”

  Nina raised her head. “All my life. We grew up together.”

  “So you’re a Harlem girl.” She nodded. “Do you still live here?”

  “No. I live in Brooklyn.”

  “Where in Brooklyn?”

  “Park Slope.”

  He lifted his eyebrows. “That’s a nice neighborhood.”

  “I like it.”

  “What do you do?”

  “I’m a high school librarian. What’s so funny?” she asked when he chuckled deep in his throat.

  “You don’t look like any librarian I’ve ever seen. At least not like the ones with buns, orthopedic shoes, and half glasses perched on the end of their noses.”

  “I wear reading glasses whenever my eyes get tired.”

  Drew wanted to tell Nina that even with glasses she still would look sexy. “What do you do for relaxation? Other than read,” he added quickly.

  “I listen to music, swim, and occasionally write poetry. How about yourself? Where do you live? What do you do for a living?”

  “I live uptown from here.”

  “How far uptown?”

  “I have a place in Riverdale.”

  Nina affected an attractive moue. “That’s not uptown. That’s the Bronx.”

  He smiled, flashing a set of perfect white teeth. “Okay. I live in the Bronx. Would you mind if I call you sometime?”

  “I’m leaving the city for the summer.”

  “Where do you go?”

  “Out east to Sag Harbor.”

  Drew stared down into her sparkling brown eyes. “I go out there occasionally. Let’s exchange phone numbers, and I’ll call you before I come out. Perhaps we can have dinner together.”

  Her mouth curved into an unconscious smile. She couldn’t remember the last time a man had asked for her telephone number. “I’d like that.”

  “So would I.”

  Drew led Nina over to a secluded portion of the backyard and wrote down his name and cell phone number on a napkin, handing it to her. He gave Nina his pen, and she wrote the telephone number to the house where she would spend the summer on another napkin.

  He put the napkin with her number in the pocket of his trousers. Leaning down, he kissed her cheek. “I’ll call you.”

  Nina wasn’t given the opportunity to reply when he turned on his heel and walked away. She waited a full minute before returning to her table. She ignored Richard’s scowl as she sat down. He got up and walked away. It was obvious he had seen her with his cousin.

  Michelle inched closer. “What were you doing over there with that chocolate licorice stick?”

  Nina’s jaw dropped. “Who are you talking about?

  “Drew, Nina. Now, you have to admit that he’s long, dark, and sweet-looking.”

  She smiled. “I’d say he’s more like a Tootsie Pop. I wonder how many licks it would take to get to the chocolate center.”

  “Stop it, girlfriend!”

  Nina showed Michelle the napkin she cradled in her hand. “I got his number.”

  “Does he have yours?” Nina nodded. “All right! I want you to call me with all of the details.”

  “We’ve only committed to having dinner together.”

  “That’s a start, Nina.”

  She nodded, smiling. “Yes, it is.”

  It was a start, but she’d never had much success with summer romances. Perhaps this summer she would have a fling, enjoy whatever came out of it, then come fall she would settle back into a predictable routine that was guaranteed to be angst-and stress-free.

  Chapter 3

  Nina sat on a chintz-covered chaise on the screened-in front porch. She had turned the radio to a station that featured love songs. A smile softened her mouth when she saw the intermittent glow from a firefly. It was twilight, her favorite time of the day.

  The beachfront bungalow had been in her family since the mid-1840s, and although it had been updated, the original structure had remained virtually the same. The only exception was a backyard patio.

  It had taken only two days for her to settle in and re
connect with her childhood friend, Deborah Simpson. Deborah had grown up on Sag Harbor and taught math at the local high school.

  The tangy smell of salt water lingered in the air. The wind that swept lingering clouds across a darkening sky had subsided. Two hours before dark, angry thunderclouds had rolled in, while sea oats swayed with an increasing wind, and before the whitecaps broke with the incoming surf, thunder and lightning sent bathers and boaters scurrying from the beach and water to escape nature’s fury. Nina had retrieved her blanket and book and retreated to the porch to wait out the downpour. The rain had stopped, but she hadn’t returned to the beach.

  The soft chiming of a telephone on the table on the other side of the screen door caught her attention. She sat up, swung her legs over the chaise, and went into the house. It was either her brother or her parents.

  “Hello.”

  “Hello, Nina.”

  A bright smile spread across her face when she heard the velvety baritone voice. Why, she thought, did Drew make her name sound like a caress?

  “Hello, Drew.”

  “Have you settled in?”

  “Yes.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Relaxing.”

  “Are you reading?”

  Nina laughed softly. “Yes. How did you know?”

  Drew’s chuckle came through the earpiece. “Perhaps I’m a psychic.”

  “Psychic, my foot. You don’t have to be a clairvoyant to know that a librarian and books are matched sets.”

  “And for a librarian you have beautiful feet.”

  “You’ve never seen my feet,” she said after a moment of silence.

  “I saw more than I’d ever hoped to see once I put Carmen’s garter on your leg. I told you that I’d call when I was coming out east,” Drew continued, deftly changing the topic.

  Nina could not stop the heat that swept over her face and moved lower to settle in her chest. There was no doubt Drew had eased her dress high enough up her legs to catch a glimpse of her pink bikini panties.

  “When are you coming?” she asked.

  “Tomorrow. I have an afternoon meeting with a friend, and then I’m free for the evening. I’d like to take you out to dinner—that is, if you are available.”

  Nina smiled. “I just so happen to be available.”

  “Good.”

  “What time do you want to meet?” she asked.

  “How about seven?”

  “Seven is good.”

  “Where should I pick you up?”

  “Do you need directions?” she asked after she’d given him her address.

  A soft chuckle came through the earpiece. “No. I believe I know where you live.”

  “That settles it. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  There was a slight pause before Drew spoke again. “Thank you, Nina.”

  Her brow furrowed in confusion. “For what?”

  “For agreeing to go out with me.”

  She held the phone to her ear, unable to form a comeback. A man had never thanked her for dating him; they usually thought they were doing her a favor.

  “You’re welcome,” she said softly, smiling. “Good night, Drew.”

  There was another pulse beat of silence. “Good night, Nina.”

  She hung up, her smile still in place. Despite what Richard had deigned to tell her about his cousin, she looked forward to seeing him. After she had danced with Drew at Carmen’s reception, Richard felt it was his responsibility to tell her that his cousin had a less than admirable reputation. Some family members referred to Drew as D.L., standing not for Drew Lancaster but for “Down Low.” None of the Nelsons knew what he did for a living, and a few suspected he was involved in something illegal.

  Her smile faded once she realized she had agreed to go out with someone whose life was shrouded in secrecy. What if what Richard had told her about Drew was true? Was he involved in illegal activities, were law enforcement officers monitoring his whereabouts? When had she become so reckless that she would date a criminal?

  There was only one way to find out. She would ask him when she saw him the following day.

  Drew slowed to less than ten miles an hour along the sand-littered street and maneuvered the sleek sports car into a driveway behind a late-model Mitsubishi sedan. He had taken a helicopter from midtown Manhattan to Southampton, met with his client, then borrowed a car for the drive to Sag Harbor.

  He turned off the engine to the racy Porsche, reaching for the package on the passenger-side seat wrapped in silver foil and tied with narrow black velvet ribbon.

  Sand grated under his shoes as he stepped out of the car and approached the house. The one-story, white-shingled house, trimmed in gray with matching shutters, looked homey. Its screened-in porch had a chaise, a glider, and a rocker covered with a rose-patterned fabric. A white wicker table between the chaise and glider held a portable stereo system and several books. A knowing smile lifted the corner of his mouth when he remembered Nina telling him that she was a librarian. The door to the house stood open.

  He rang the bell and waited. Less than a minute later, Nina appeared from the rear of the house. Drew hadn’t realized he was gawking until he was forced to swallow to moisten his dry throat. His gaze was fixed on the length of her smooth, bare legs showing beneath the hem of her slim knee-length black skirt. A white shell in a stretch fabric clung to her upper body, outlining the roundness of her full breasts. She’d thrown a black jacket over her arm.

  Her smile was as brilliant as the sparkle in her dark eyes. “Hello. Please come in.”

  Drew stepped into the living room, and everything that he’d tried remembering about Nina came rushing back in vivid clarity. Her flawless face, her fragrant perfume, the sound of her beautifully modulated voice, and the sensuality that was inherent without her attempting to flaunt it.

  He handed her the package. “I bought a little something for you.”

  Nina blinked once. She shook it gently. “You didn’t have to bring me anything.”

  Angling his head, Drew stared down at her. “I know. But when I saw it, I thought you would like it.”

  “What is it?”

  “You’ll have to open it and find out.” He held up a hand. “I’d prefer if you’d open it later.”

  She gave him a sidelong glance, smiling, and wondered if he had given her something he’d obtained illegally. “Now, that sounds ominous.”

  His smile matched hers. “Mysterious maybe, but definitely not ominous. Are you ready?”

  “Yes.” She placed the package on the table, slipped into her jacket, picked up a small handbag, and closed the door behind her, which locked automatically.

  She’d told Drew she was ready. But now, after seeing him again, she wasn’t certain whether she was ready for him. He wore a pair of black linen slacks with an off-white silk T-shirt. A narrow black ostrich-skin belt circled his slim waist. His exposed arms were corded with lean natural muscle. He appeared taller, imposing, and a little intimidating.

  Drew reached for her hand and led her off the porch to his car. She felt a shiver of awareness snake up her arm as his strong fingers closed over hers. The palm of his hand was smooth. It was apparent he did not use his hands to earn money—except perhaps to count it. But then again, perhaps he used a machine to count his money, the way banks did.

  After his call, Nina had tried to convince herself that what Drew did for a living was not her concern. However, common sense prevailed once her overactive imagination conjured up images of rival criminals putting out a hit on him, or federal agents arresting him while they were together.

  Drew opened the Porsche’s passenger-side door for Nina and waited until she was seated and belted in before he came around and took his seat behind the wheel. The smell of new leather filled the car’s interior. He turned the key, and the engine roared to life in a soft purr.

  His right hand covered the gearshift, but before he could shift into reverse, Nina’s fingers curved around his wrist. Tu
rning his head, he stared at her. “Did you forget something?”

  “No. But I need to ask you something.”

  His expression was impassive. “Ask.”

  She removed her hand and laced her fingers together in her lap. “Are you involved in anything illegal?”

  His left eyebrow flickered. It was obvious some people in his family were spreading rumors again because he refused to tell them what he did for a living. At first he’d told them that it was none of their business, but after a while even that got tired, so he stopped saying anything. Only his mother knew how he earned his money.

  “No, Nina. I’m not involved in anything illegal.”

  She let out an audible sigh and nodded. “Thank you.”

  “You believe me?”

  Nina gave him a direct stare. “I have no reason not to believe you—unless you show me otherwise.”

  Drew curbed the urge to run his fingertips over her silken face. Her skin was flawless, giving the appearance of whipped chocolate mousse. “That will never happen.”

  “Thank you,” she said again.

  Drew shifted into reverse and backed out of her driveway. “I thought we’d eat at B. Smith’s.”

  “Good choice.” She had eaten there twice—the week it opened for business, and last year when she’d invited Carmen, Kim, and Michelle out to Sag Harbor for a female bonding weekend. They’d practically lived on the beach, only retreating to the house to shower, change clothes, and sleep.

  Drew drove to the restaurant and pulled into a parking space at the Long Wharf Marina. He cradled Nina’s hand in the curve of his elbow as they walked the short distance to the restaurant. The maître d’ asked whether they preferred dining inside or on the deck, and Drew looked at Nina.

  “Which do you prefer?”

  “Outside.” The night was warm and the sky clear.

  Drew nodded to the maître d’. “Outside.” His left arm curved around Nina’s waist as they were shown to a table with a view of luxurious yachts and other pleasure craft moored in the marina.

 

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