by Rebecca Foxx
Her mind then slipped away to a visage of Thomas from the days long since gone by. She remembered the feel of his skin on hers, how they would lie together on a blanket in a meadow outside of Glasgow and he would rub lotion on her ebony skin. His hands felt like what she imagined heaven must be and she craved them.
She wanted them again. His lips were firm, but his tongue warm and inviting, and the thought of taking him into her mouth made her shift in her seat. The mere thought of him made her aroused. Over the years, she had become obsessed with him and she felt at that point, things were about to change in her favor.
Neema was still in love with Thomas after all these years and the countless men she had experienced in her lifetime were nothing to her and at that point, she would do and give just about anything to be in his arms.
Unfortunately, his attention was being directed to a barely functional shifter who was not even 40 years old.
She sipped on the glass of wine provided for a few moments and decided to go outside and take in the view. The sliding doors opened as she approached; letting a cool breeze toss her robe in the wind.
The red satin fabric tossed about, accenting her long legs and slim body. She walked out on the patio of her penthouse and watched the fog roll in. She had been standing there in position for less than a minute when the first shot rang out.
Milliseconds later, three other shots were heard. All four bullets hitting their target, Neema reeled from the velocity of the bullets and fell down on the deck of her patio. She was conscious, but she was hurt badly and was bleeding out.
The four gunmen packed up their gear, picked up their spent casing, and hurried out of their respective buildings. They would be gone in seconds and no one would know any better.
Neema lay bleeding from her chest; the bullet wounds were dangerously close to her heart but had missed barely missed. She saw the sky seem to open up and consume her as her world went black.
Chapter 7 – Medical Attention
Thomas and other members of The Committee were notified immediately about the shooting, and to a person, they were stunned that anyone would have the audacity to try to assassinate one of their members.
The power they wielded was unmatched by either human or supernatural. To challenge them would be to invite legendary wrath and blood.
The Committee members had selected Thomas to be the one to spend time with Neema at the hospital as most of The Committee was not known to the general public.
There would no doubt be attention drawn to the shooting, but Thomas’ experience and steely demeanor would be the perfect combination to deal with the media in the most expeditious manner.
As suspected, the hospital entrance was a swarm of media waiting for law enforcement to arrive to provide them with statements. Thomas saw the crowd gathered and chose a back entrance where he was escorted to Neema’s room by two of The Committee’s ESET members.
Seeing her on a ventilator and unconscious was something Thomas was not prepared to see. He was not an overly emotional shifter and he wanted to keep it that way.
Thomas cared for Neema on many levels and he had a great deal of respect for her. She had seen the worst of times and survived and she had alone defeated formidable adversaries. While she had tendencies to go to the extreme, she could always be brought into line with The Committee positions.
To see her laying there touched something deep within him; he had, for the first time, come face-to-face with the thought of his own mortality. The tubes running in and out of her body was painful to watch. Her chest moved with each breath as labored as it was and the rest of her body was still.
The glow of her face had dulled; her hands that were normally active and alive were at her sides, unmoving and pale.
He stood over her watching her breathing, his mind traveling back to the times when the two of them would travel to foreign lands where they could disappear into the seclusion of a quiet inn.
They would hold each other and watch the sun rise and the sun set in the peace and serenity of no responsibilities to the whole of the shifter universe. It was in a Parisian bungalow that they together established the protocols for dealing with Walkers. Thomas wanted them in the fold and close, the other committee members fought them on it, but they were convincing.
He reached his hand to hers and held it. Her hand was dry and cool to the touch. Thomas felt an eruption boiling up in his body. The glow of his eyes lit up the room and the fury welling up inside of him warmed his body.
For a second, Thomas thought that Neema responded to his fury because her hand warmed to his touch. He reached up and placed the back of his hand on her forehead and felt her face become warm and her brow start to sweat.
His eyes opened wide as his loins began to stir in a familiar manner. She had that affect on him for decades, and it was a welcomed feeling to both of them.
Her eyes began to flutter open and immediately she began choking on the respirator. Nurses ran into the room and removed the respirator and Neema started to gain her composure, and that was when the pain set it.
Tears streamed from the corners of her eyes as she struggled to open them. Her hand traveled up to her forehead where Thomas’ hand was resting. He could feel her pain through her hand and it served to only increase his anger.
A duo of physicians came into the room and politely asked Thomas to step out into the hall as they had to check her condition.
He did as he was asked.
Neema was beginning to wake and the pain from the bullet wounds was staggering. The would-be assassins used silver-lined bullets that were not lethal, however, her ability to heal would take much longer than she had ever imagined and the level of pain would be that of Biblical proportions.
The assassins knew what they were doing; a hot from a distance to send a message rather than an up close and personal beheading that would kill the Committee member.
One thing could be said about the whole disaster and that was the fact that it drew Thomas back to her side.
Chapter 8 – Arrangements
Wendy had made the arrangements for Benito’s cremation and the scattering of his ashes into the ocean as he had always desired.
It was a simple memorial service of which only Wendy would attend as Benito did not have a lot of friends outside of their small circle of influence. When the memorial was over, she left the funeral home and never again missed Benito. She didn’t want to be cold, but that was how she learned to deal with loss. Ignore it and it couldn’t hurt her.
She sat for a few moments in her vehicle before leaving and she checked her cellular phone for any missed calls, messages, or notifications from Thomas, but there were none. She put the key in the ignition and drove in the direction of her home.
The ride was quiet and peaceful. The music on the radio was smooth jazz and she sang along with the tune as though she herself had written the melody. Singing was a respite for her; a sanctuary. Music had always been a part of her life and it showed on her face. Music made her eyes light up and her face glow; the same as when she spoke with Thomas.
She pulled into her driveway just as her phone rang and she stopped abruptly, hoping that it was Thomas on the line. It wasn’t, of course, but it was one of his many assistants who informed her that Thomas had been and would be out of pocket for a few days and their scheduled meetings would be put on hold until notified otherwise.
The assistant was brash, short, and had a tone to her voice that indicated she didn’t like being bothered with such trivial information. Before Wendy could finish saying goodbye, the assistant disconnected the call.
She parked her car and walked into the house where she sat her purse and keys on the table, kicked her shoes off, and turned on the news. Every channel had “breaking news” about Neema Boipelo’s attempted assassination.
Video clips of her being brought into the hospital via ambulance and the blood was everywhere. The next clip showed Thomas in the background, trying to be discreet, and he had larg
ely succeeded.
It all made sense to her now; Thomas would be dealing with the madness of Neema’s injuries and trying to get The Committee to act rationally. She was sure that it wouldn’t be long before she saw him again, so she breathed a sigh of relief.
Wendy watched the coverage for a few more minutes and decided that she would take a quick shower and spend some time at the grocers to pick up snacks for later in the evening. She had built and kept her curvy body and wasn’t about to lose an ounce of it. She was strong, well-built, and soft in all the right places.
She stood naked before her full-length mirror in her bedroom and inspected her curves, her skin tone, and how long her hair had gotten in the back. For shifters, their hair grew quickly and in many cases their salon bills were higher than their utilities each month.
As she watched herself, her mind went to a place where only she and Thomas existed; a place where the two of them could be free and just enjoy each other.
It was a familiar place because she visited there often over the previous few days. It sent chills up and down her spine just thinking of she and Thomas laying naked on the front porch of a countryside cabin with a view of the ocean; doing nothing more than appreciating each other.
She opened her eyes and saw that her hand had instinctively traveled down her body and between her soft thighs. She was instantly embarrassed and hurried to the shower. Over the course of the following weeks, she would find herself in that position regularly.
Neema did recover after a few weeks of surgeries and bed rest. The responsibilities of The Committee were not neglected as she used her tablet on a secure line for conference calls. She was healing nicely and her penthouse provided a new sense of security for her.
The windows had been reinforced with bullet-proof glass, her patio surrounded with the same and the pool area was surrounded with tall shrubbery so the view into the area was completely restricted.
She had a new safe room built and Thomas himself oversaw that construction. She had a penthouse, but now it was more like a fortress.
Neema had changed and her attitude softened since the shooting and it was a welcomed change to Thomas. He began to see her in a different light and even her desire for revenge had subsided. She was beginning to show an exceptionally feminine and vulnerable side to her being.
Revenge would be sought and the four killers brought to justice; the kind of justice that only The Committee would understand or even know about. It would send shockwaves through the ranks of the men and women committed to the destruction of the supernatural.
It would be quick, effective, and brutal; and the media and mainstream public would know nothing of it.
Wendy had gotten used to having Thomas out of pocket so frequently so she continued her work at the ESET and doubled her band’s stage time. They were now performing once every week as opposed to twice a month and the crowds just got larger with every show.
There was a period of calm for the Walkers, the shifters, and even the vamps. It was needed to allow everyone to calm themselves and forget revenge and murder for the time being.
The general public returned to their regular programming of news and gossip and that was particularly true when the President was caught in the Oval Office with his Chief of Staff in a very compromising position.
Neema was pleased with the outcome of her tragedy and though she felt a minute amount of guilt for Wendy, she was elated that she had her Thomas back by her side.
After a night of wine and cheese and some of her pain medication, she and Thomas slept together and it was as fierce and intense as it always had been.
The sexual activity sparked something inside of Neema and she began to heal quicker and after the third erotic excursion in her pool with Thomas, her wounds had completely healed and she was ready to attend meetings of The Committee and resume her normal schedule.
During the interlude of calm, a few interspecies couples “came out,” and rather than be murdered, a segment of the population celebrated their bravery and courage to be so bold.
It was exactly as The Committee had planned it and would be the first step on the road to revenge and no one would be any the wiser for it.
The carnage, however, would be devastating.
THE END
Ready for the next book by Rebecca Foxx?
Click here to buy it now from Amazon.
P.S. If you want to stay updated about our latest book releases, join our VIP list! Enter your email address and you’ll be the first to know when the next book is released.
P.P.S. Also, don’t forget to come say hello on Facebook.
www.facebook.com/AngelRomancePublishing
Also by Angel Romance Publishing!
Join our VIP email list and we’ll send you an email reminder as soon as our next book is out! Click here to SIGN UP!
Rebecca Foxx
For an updated list of Rebecca Foxx’s books, please visit Amazon’s Author Page: Rebecca Foxx
A TOUCH OF SHIFTER SERIES
Paranormal Committee Romance
Book 1: Time Shifters
Book 2: Taboo Lovers
Book 3: Jealous Flames
Book 4: Sensual Investigation
Book 5: Sensual Hero
To purchase the complete series CLICK HERE
Billionaire Soulmate
Prologue
Jacqueline opened the Daily News to Page 6 and nearly fell off her chair. She had to take a good look at the headline and the accompanying picture one more time to make sure that she wasn’t dreaming. That face and that name were still so familiar to her. As a matter of fact, she got goose bumps, and the tiny hairs on her arms started to tingle. Jacqueline’s mind was flooded with excitement, but her stomach was full of butterflies – she was turned on, and yet she was nervous. He was the only one who had that distinct power over her.
She looked up and saw her colleague Shawnee walking towards her. She quickly tucked the paper away under her desk.
Shawnee sauntered her full-figured frame in between several cubicles and flashed Jacqueline a big smile.
“Got any hot leads?” Shawnee asked.
Jacqueline was about to blurt out what she had just read in the paper, but she bit her tongue and looked away. She hoped deep down that she would never have to reveal her secret.
“I hear that the Amber Rose was spotted in Saks on 34th with a new man,” Jacqueline said. Amber was a socialite that had more issues than Time and Ebony magazine put together.
“Another rapper?” Shawnee said with a sly smile.
“You know she only goes for the ballers,” Jacqueline replied.
Both of them started laughing.
Shawnee’s face lit up and she looked around the office mischievously before saying what was on her mind.
“I heard a rumor last night that Sanaa Lathan's new boo is a white dude,” Shawnee said.
Jacqueline smiled. This was the kind of scoop that made being a tabloid journalist fun. Her twitter account would be blowing up all day if she were the first to get this story out to the public. This was just the type of story that could upgrade her status in the world of journalism and elite gossip.
“I’ll need some sweet ass photos so that I can tweet them to my followers,” Jacqueline said. “This is the kind of juicy stuff that they just can’t get enough of.”
“I know!” Shawnee screeched. “I have to get my swirl on one of these days. And I know exactly who I would choose to be my first.”
Jacqueline sat on the edge of her seat.
“Who?” Jacqueline asked.
Shawnee leaned closer.
“Michael Keegan,” Shawnee whispered.
Jacqueline’s face turned bright red.
“Is everything alright?” Shawnee asked.
“Yes, everything’s fine,” Jacqueline answered. “I just need to get today’s column finished by three. Thanks for the Sanaa scoop!”
Shawnee stood staring at Jacqueline for a moment with a confused express
ion on her face before finally heading back to her desk.
Jacqueline bent down and picked up the paper that she had folded and put away minutes before. She looked at the headline and the picture. Her body filled with nervous excitement once again. She thought to herself - damn you Michael, why do you have to be so fine?
For the rest of the day Jacqueline struggled to concentrate on her work. Her mind kept drifting back to that picture in the paper and she kept hearing that name over and over again in her head. Michael Keegan.
It had been years since they’d seen each other. But it seemed like Michael hadn’t changed a bit. He was still the same rich, handsome bad boy, big personality who had all of New York’s women lusting after him. Unlike most people who admired Michael from afar, Jacqueline knew there was much more to him than what the Page 6 headlines revealed – they had a secret history.
