Seductive Memory

by Altonya Washington

  “Thanks, Paula,” Tig said.

  Paula nodded and made her way from the room.

  “Alright, man?” Eli asked before nodding in reply. “Dumb question,” he noted at the fierce look Linus gave him.

  “Why don’t you just go after her already?” Tig huffed.

  “It’s not that easy, especially now, especially with this.” Linus waved toward the slide show of images still playing on the screen.

  “Hell, Line, Paula isn’t accusing you of anything,” Eli argued. “We’re just the only lead Miranda Bormann’s detectives have so far.”

  “That’s not it, E.” Linus began to pace in the confined space. “She knows I’m keeping something from her.”

  “This is about what happened between you guys before,” Tig said.

  “But you already talked to her about that,” Eli added.

  “I told her what happened wasn’t about her, that I wasn’t angry—not with her,” Linus clarified.

  “And she didn’t believe you.”

  “I think she did,” Linus said to Tig’s guess and then muttered a curse while smoothing both hands over his head. “She’s so damned smart,” he added as though it pained him to admit the fact.

  “She thinks there’s more to the story.” Eli guessed that time.

  “Is she right?” Tig watched Linus nod and then shrug.

  “I can’t tell her,” he admitted.

  “Isn’t that why you brought her here?” Eli queried. “To tell her everything and get you back on track?”

  “It’s not that easy with us, but yeah, that was part of the plan. I, um, I couldn’t make myself go there, you know? Even in memory, I couldn’t.”

  “So what’s your plan then? Since I know you don’t plan on goin’ back to Philly without her on your arm,” Tig challenged.

  At first, Linus only shook his head. “It might come down to me doing that very thing—all depends on how this turns out.”

  “Listen to me, Line. I don’t care if we all had a four-course meal with Hayden Bormann, it doesn’t make us crooks.” Eli’s handsome face was a closed, dark mask. “We don’t run our business that way. Whatever this is, we aren’t involved.”

  “I get that, E. I do.” Linus reclaimed his seat to study the images still flashing across the screen. “Something about this won’t let go. I don’t know how, but I got the feeling we’re very much involved in this.”

  Eli and Tig traded looks again. They knew better than to argue with each other’s instincts. Their business had thrived because they trusted each other’s gut feelings.

  “So are you just gonna give up?” Tig smiled at the look he got from Linus.

  “If it wasn’t for that damn phone of hers this morning, we’d be spending the day together right now,” Linus shared. “That email from Miranda Bormann came in before I could get her out of there.”

  Tig grinned. “You know how to fix that, don’t you?”

  “Damn right I do. Next time, I won’t give her time to prepare.”

  “You know she’s too smart to let this go,” Eli pointed out. “Time alone with her means more time for her to question you about what you’re keeping.”

  “Exactly,” Tig agreed. “She’s a prosecutor, and a damn good one. When it comes right down to it, you’re gonna have to revisit this thing—to look it straight in the eye and confront it.”

  “And you two really think this is a good idea?” Linus smirked. “Confronting this thing while I’m alone with her?”

  “You didn’t hurt her then. You won’t now.”

  “E’s right. You’ve fought this too hard and too long to let it win now when you finally have another chance.”

  “At least tell her how difficult this is for you to talk about, man,” Eli suggested.

  “Weak.” Linus spoke the word as if it were a curse.

  Eli and Tig traded looks for the third time that morning. Another thing they knew all too well about their friend was that he loathed appearing weak. For the last several years, that hatred had manifested in his passion to make Joss Construction a recognizable force. The endeavor turned out to be a healthy outlet for the final remnants of the rage that drove him. Eli and Tig were no fools; they knew it would only be a matter of time before substituting his passion for strengthening their business lost its power over an avoidance to be seen as weak.

  “Do you love her?” Tig asked.

  Linus rolled his eyes. “’Course I do.”

  “Then if there’s anyone you shouldn’t give a damn about seeing you at your weakest, it’s her.”

  Linus shook his head at Tig’s reasoning. “You don’t know where she came from—the way she grew up. She’s known enough weak men in her life.”

  “And how would you categorize a man who lies to the woman he loves?”

  Linus waved off Eli’s notion. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. No offense, E, but you and Clarissa have no history.”

  “Soph and I do,” Tig chimed in. “Good luck getting Paula all the way back if you don’t plan to be all the way truthful with her.”

  A smidge cocky then, Linus shrugged. “She loves me, wants me. That hasn’t changed. All I have to do is—”

  “What? Make love to her until she follows you anywhere? Forgets all the questions floating around in her head about you?” Tig grinned. “That ain’t happenin’, brotha.”

  “I know what I’m doing.”

  “Hell, man, do you really think that’d work?” Tig laughed.

  “Save it, T. Tell me you didn’t try that with Sophie.”

  “Tried and failed. I’d like it if you and Paula didn’t have to go through the drama maze we did.”

  Linus took pity then. “I appreciate the concern from both of you and I agree. She’s no idiot, and definitely not a woman who’d have her mind go blank after a few hours in bed. If I can’t make things right with her, I’ll damn well enjoy the time I have with her while I have it.”

  “And what if she wants to enjoy her time with you doing more than making love under the stars?” Eli probed. “She already knows there’s more to the story than you told her. She may want your pillow talk to be a little more substantial. What then? You say you love her. Are you willing to put what she needs over what you want?”

  Linus considered the questions his friends posed. But instead of answering, he left the room.

  Chapter 9

  Spirits had lifted tremendously by the time the dinner hour arrived. The group met in a dining room fit for gods or, at the very least, kings. The area occupied a vast space along the villa’s multilevel rooftop. It overlooked the bay that mirrored the pastel blue shades of the late evening skies above.

  A steady, comfortable breeze kept the palm leaves and flowers swaying actively amid aromatic air that swept the open construction of wood and stone. Darker wood composed the high ceiling that was softly lit by a trio of low-hanging chandeliers. Electric candles gleamed behind a series of cylindrical tinted lanterns on the table. Hanging vines and bushes outlined a spot that was equipped with a stone hearth in the corner. There, a fire blazed brilliantly to combat a chilly breeze blowing in off the surf.

  Besides the hearth, diners had an unobstructed view of the bay and sky. The dining room’s interior flooring was light brown stone. The heavy table was fashioned of rich wood with a distinctive charcoal-brown color. Wide wicker chairs accented the wood and stone color scheme. The diners held the same opinion that they were as comfortable as they appeared, with thick cushions covering the seats.

  The table could serve twelve easily. There were ten for dinner that evening, however, and they’d arrived in a state of awe. The view was unmatched, and pretty damn close to indescribable. The setting sun shaded the sky and clouds with an array of pastels in blends that were impossible for a human to duplicate.

  “The view alo
ne is worth whatever Maxton would want to charge for a night here,” Rook declared.

  No one responded, but everyone agreed. Still rather dazed, they managed to take their places at the table already aglow from the fat candles under glass.

  “Who keeps up a place like this?” Viva asked.

  “Same folks who handle the yacht,” Tig told his sister-in-law.

  “Convenient,” Clarissa noted.

  “Mmm...and another way to up the price,” Sophia added.

  “Have the owners mentioned what a night might go for?” Rayelle asked.

  “Brace yourself,” Eli said, then grinned. “Initial figures are being thrown around in the range of $25-$40K a night.”

  A round of hushed and shocked curses carried around the table.

  “The price is why we’re here,” Linus chimed in. “To brainstorm ways to make it worth the expense.”

  “I agree with Rook.” Paula shivered in approval of her surroundings. “The view alone goes a long way. Joss won’t have far to go with a head start like that.”

  Low laughter surrounded the table, and shortly after, two uniformed servers arrived to begin filling everyone’s water goblets and wine glasses. Paula, Clarissa and Sophie opted for wine. Rayelle, Viva and the guys chose from the array of beers on tap. The night’s menu was to consist of hearty steaks, potatoes and homemade bread.

  Linus took the liberty of ordering for Barker, who still had not arrived for dinner. Ray was first to notice his absence.

  “He said something about having a conference call when we were out today,” Rook explained.

  “Oh yeah, you guys were scouting clubs,” Paula mentioned.

  For a while, the chatter fixed on that outing. Servers continued to mill about, supplying the night’s appetizers. Fried asparagus chips with a gooey spinach and artichoke dip and wheat medallions with a seasoned olive oil were a few of the offerings.

  “Everybody eat up,” Rook advised. “Me and Bark found some dance halls guaranteed to work off every calorie you put on here tonight.”

  The laughter and conversation were still going strong when Barker arrived.

  “Doesn’t look like it was a fun chat with your colleagues,” Tig noted.

  “Yeah.” Barker took his place at the table. “Others have been a lot more fun.”

  “Wanna talk about it?” Eli asked.

  “Can you talk about it?” Viva queried playfully.

  Barker laughed. “It’s not top secret. Just a few of my reporters forgetting they’re reporters and not interrogators.”

  “Ouch.” Tig winced. “No fun when you’ve got to wear that particular management cap.”

  “No, it’s not.” Barker sighed. “But in their defense, they’re a good group. A little green, so there’s still some fine-tuning needed. A few who need to learn the difference between stressing to someone the importance of speaking out and berating them when they choose not to.”

  “Seems a lot of reporters could refine that skill, and not just the green ones,” Rayelle decided.

  “Some of your colleagues stress the public’s right to know, and they forget the people they want to ‘speak out’ are a part of that public.”

  The group mulled over Sophia’s valid point as the servers arrived with the meal. Mouthwatering aromas battled with the floral breeze to craft a fragrance that was nothing short of stellar. Conversations stalled hard and fast once the group dug in. The scrape of cutlery on the deep ceramic plates were the main sounds for a while. Quiet murmurs sifted around the table with requests to pass butter and sour cream for potatoes, steak sauce for the massive T-bones and New York strips. The meats had been grilled to perfection.

  “Would I be off the mark to guess your reporters are having trouble getting witnesses to talk?” Ray asked when they’d been eating silently for a while.

  “You wouldn’t be off the mark at all.” Barker grimaced with agreement.

  Paula was grimacing then too. “I guess the words rat and snitch have been exchanged more than once.”

  “Yeah.” Barker laughed shortly. “On several occasions.”

  “In situations like that, it can be impossible to get people to talk,” Ray added.

  “And I’m trying to get my people to see that not everyone trusts the press enough to open up, even if there’s the possibility it could change their situation.”

  Barker’s outlook drew a nod from Paula. “That’s the problem right there. Possibility. Now, if we could talk guarantees...”

  “Can’t ever make those.” Barker leaned back from the table as though he had no intention of eating any further.

  “Until we can, your reporters are gonna have those difficulties all during their careers,” Paula noted.

  “You’re in law enforcement, Paula,” Rook chimed in. “Are you saying you approve of people not coming forward even for the mere possibility of things changing?”

  “I think I’m saying I understand it, more than I approve of it.” Paula outlined the mouth of her wineglass with her index finger. “Understanding why change isn’t that grand a concept is a hard sell for people who grew up privileged.”

  “Ouch again.” Tig swigged down what remained of his beer. He was provided with a full and chilled mug moments later.

  “I’m not trying to step on toes, but when you grow up a certain way...”

  “Underprivileged,” Ray interjected and smiled.

  Paula nodded. “It can be hard enough to believe a person means you well, and even harder to believe they can help you change your life.”

  “So I should tell my team to give up when it’s clear they’re dealing with things they don’t understand.”

  “Giving up is the very last thing they should do, Barker.” Paula was shaking her head then while sipping from the glass of Pinot Noir she’d requested. “But they need to exercise more patience and understanding. A person may be scared, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t willing to do what’s needed to change their place in life. Tell them to keep trying, but gently.”

  “Thanks, Paula.” Barker tipped his glass in toast.

  Paula enjoyed another sip of her wine and found Linus’s dark gaze on her when she set it down.

  * * *

  Enjoying more of the view was all anyone wanted to do once the filling meal had been finished. The view was a stunner by day or night, sunset or dawn. Still, none among the group could argue they weren’t curious about what entertainment gems Rook and Barker had uncovered during their morning of club scouting. Besides, the steak dinner was more than deserving of being worked off at one of the shimmering dance halls they’d glimpsed upon arriving in Nassau.

  They were ferried back by way of the Idella. Then they began their night of club hopping from the three horse-drawn carriages awaiting them at the pier. Rook and Viva occupied the only two-person carriage and brought up the rear behind the others. The city was a remarkable display of conversation, energy and lights that were just beginning to glow amid early evening skies. Women showed off ankle-breaking dance sandals while men were decked in their finest casual attire. In Nassau, club hopping was as much about fashion as it was about dancing.

  The place was also about seduction. It hadn’t escaped Paula that the night was also meant to entice. She and Rayelle had traded more than a few glances since they’d been seated in the comfortable white oak carriages. Ray and Barker rode in the first carriage, along with Clarissa and Eli. Paula and Linus had been tagged to ride along with Sophia and Tigo. All three of the loving couples were especially demonstrative that night. Paula was sure the underlying messages were meant for her and Rayelle.

  Paula doubted those messages were meant for Barker, but she was sure Linus needed no prodding. He’d made a point of keeping his hands somewhere on her body since they’d boarded the Idella. Now, seated on the plush cushions across from Tig and Sophie, who kis
sed without any sense of propriety, Linus seemed intent on caressing Paula into the same state of wantonness. She wondered if he sensed that she was already there, and was sure he had. Clearing her throat, she tried to focus on a conversation that might take things in a direction opposite of where his hand on her thigh was trying to take it.

  “Have you guys had any luck looking into those project links to Bormann? Does anything look familiar with the photo file I left with you earlier today?”

  “I don’t know. We didn’t talk much about it when you left.”

  Paula shook her head as if she meant to clear it. The head shake though was mainly to dissuade his tempting mouth from the sensual glide it charted from her ear to the sensitive spot behind it. “Doesn’t sound like much of a meeting,” she said.

  “Actually it was. My partners gave me some good advice.” His words were a whisper as he returned to her ear and began a soft wet suckle of the lobe.

  Paula felt like she was drowning and tried desperately to remain afloat. “So what was the advice?”

  “Something like what you gave Bark. To keep trying and do so gently.”

  “Were they talking in terms of gratification?”

  “Yeah, just a different kind.”

  “I thought we already covered that.”

  “Jeez, Paula, is sex all you think about?”

  Her gaze flared as she sent him an incredulous look. Lips parted, she readied a retort that was cut silent when his tongue occupied her mouth. Paula felt more than heard the purr flooding her throat. Instinct had her thighs parting when his hand roamed higher, until his fingers were grazing her middle hidden beneath the jumpsuit she’d chosen for the night out.

  His thumb mimicked the circular strokes of his tongue around hers. Paula rested on her willpower when her clit ignited under his tongue. She squeezed his wrist to still it.

  Linus showed her mercy and eased off. But his features sharpened with a look that promised he wouldn’t ease off for long.

  * * *

  The group had hopped around to three clubs, each more dazzling than the one before it. The architecture in connection with the breathtaking views made for several stunning establishments. Barker and Rook basked in the flattery from their companions over making such excellent selections. It was, however, the fourth selection that brought them the most praise.