by Erin Wade
“Why don’t we move this conversation to the sofa,” I suggested as I stood, holding her against me. She wrapped her long legs around my waist and kissed me breathless.
Later, Alex lay on top of me, our chests heaving as we both fought to catch our breaths. “I love how strong you are,” she whispered.
“I love the way you let me do anything I want.” My voice was deep with emotion. “You satiate all my desires.”
“Sloan,” she whispered, “don’t you know that your desires fulfill all my fantasies?”
“The bullwhip . . . ?”
“Never! Not in your wildest dreams.” Her laughter warmed my heart “But you can keep trying.”
I didn’t tell her that I had no idea what I would do if she said yes. I was certain she already knew that.
##
“I’ve finished the rough draft of our African adventure,” I informed Alex as I placed the manuscript on the table in front of her. She sipped her coffee and looked at the dedication: To Alex, my love, my life, my reason for living. You are the only woman I have ever loved. Sloan.
She fanned her face. “Just your dedication got me all hot and bothered,” she said, laughing.
“Good.” I leaned in for a kiss and then refilled our coffee cups.
“Did you write a smoking-hot love scene in here?” Her curiosity was obvious as she turned the pages.
“I did. I wrote about that morning in our hotel room in Morocco.”
She thumbed through the manuscript until she located the scene. I watched as she read it. She began to breathe faster, gulping in air. Her chest and face flushed a dark pink, and she ran her tongue between her lips, rolling her lips together to moisten them. Watching her excited me.
She closed the manuscript and slowly raised desire-laden eyes to meet mine. “I want you,” she said in a smoky, lust-filled voice.
“And I you.” I sighed as I led her to our bedroom.
Afterward, we lay motionless beside each other, our hands laced together over her stomach. She turned to face me, and I gently kissed her lips. Her tongue explored my bottom lip, and she sucked it. “I love the taste of me on your lips,” she whispered.
“Mmmm, So do I.”
She snuggled into me and giggled. “That scene you wrote turned me on. When did you write it?”
“Yesterday afternoon,” I murmured.
“Was that when you found me on the patio and made love to me—after you finished that scene?”
“Yes,” I admitted, a little embarrassed.
She chuckled. “What would you do if you didn’t have me to satiate you?”
“Masturbate.” It was the truth. “That’s why I don’t write romance.” I kissed her. “You aren’t always around when I’m working on a book.”
She raised up on her elbow and tilted her head to one side, studying me. “Do you think romance authors masturbate with their heroines in mind after writing a torrid love scene?”
“I would bet money on it. I know I would if I didn’t have you.”
It is mentally and physically exhausting to write love scenes.
##
“Do you realize that we’ve been here three months and haven’t turned on the TV or the internet?” Alex said as we walked back to the villa.”
“I’ve been reluctant to let the outside world into our little piece of heaven.” I squeezed her hand.
“Still, we probably should find out what’s going on in the rest of the world.”
I shrugged. “I suppose we have to return to it sooner or later.”
I must admit that I was disappointed when we heard no mention of us on the evening news.
“By now, we’re yesterday’s news,” Alex said. “That’s good.”
A late-night newswoman popped onto our screen. “And now for a report on our continuing news coverage,” she said. “The small plane believed to be used by cosmetic mogul Alexandra Cartwright and investigative news reporter Sloan Cartwright has been found in the Sahara Desert at the foot of the Atlas Mountains.”
A beautiful photo of Alex and me walking hand in hand from a New York musical theater appeared on the screen.
“The two have been missing for more than 100 days and are believed to have perished in the desert.
“Alexandra was the founder and CEO of A&S Cosmetics, the worldwide distributor of Youth Serum. She and Sloan Cartwright hold several patents and all licensing rights to products that women all over the planet have come to depend on for a youthful appearance.
“Most of you have seen the riveting documentaries produced by award-winning journalist and author Sloan Cartwright. The world mourns the loss of these two outstanding women. The couple had been married ten years when—”
Alex clicked off the TV.
We sat in stunned silence.
“Everyone thinks we’re dead,” Alex said, fighting back tears.
I nodded, trying to comprehend the ramifications of the newswoman’s report.
“At least they won’t be trying to kill us,” I said.
“We must let your parents know you’re alive,” Alex said. “Your mother must be devastated.”
“This may be a trick to get us to make contact,” I surmised. “I’m going to call my parents’ next-door neighbor. They won’t tap her phone.”
I dug through my desk and pulled out a black book. “All my important numbers are in here. We need to notify your parents too.”
The sorrow in Alex’s eyes hurt my heart. “They won’t care,” she said. “They disowned me when I married you.”
“Oh.” I had no words for the sadness that settled in me at Alex’s announcement. How could anyone disown the wonderful woman standing before me?
“I’m so sorry,” I murmured as I pulled her into my arms.
“It’s okay.” A pleased look crossed Alex’s face. “Your parents love me more than my parents ever did.”
I called my parents’ neighbor and asked if they would get my mother to the phone. I put the call on speakerphone so Alex could hear too. The wait seemed like forever, and then a familiar voice spoke.
“Hello?”
“Mom, it’s me. Sloan.”
“Oh thank God!” she yelled. “Daddy, it’s Sloan.”
I could hear my mother sobbing. “It’s Sloan.”
“Hello?” My dad’s strong baritone voice came across the phone line. “Is that you, baby girl?” The emotion in his voice was heartrending.
I couldn’t stop the tears that rolled down my cheeks as I realized the pain I had caused them. “It’s me, Dad. Alex and I are okay.”
“I knew she would get you out of that heathen country,” my father declared. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes, we’re fine, but we need to remain missing for now.” I took a deep breath. “It will take too long to explain everything on the phone, but someone is trying to kill us.”
A long silence followed my declaration. “How can we help you?” Dad asked.
“Let me discuss some things with Alex, and then we’ll call you back. Dad, can you get a burner phone so I can call you direct?”
“As soon as we hang up,” my father said.
“Go on your Facebook page and place the first three numbers using the time matrix. Then do the same thing with the last four digits on mom’s page. I know your area code, so I just need the last seven digits,” I said.
“I’ll do that tonight. I love you, baby girl.”
“I love you too, Dad.”
“Your mother wants to talk to you before you hang up,” he said.
“Sloan, I just wanted to say I love you. I never believed you were dead, not for a second.” She hesitated. “And I’m so happy you and Alex are back together. Tell Alex we love her.”
“I love you, Mom. I’ll call tomorrow night at eight.” I disconnected the call.
“That was emotional,” Alex said, wiping the tears from her face.
“For all of us,” I agreed, swallowing the lump that still lingered in my thro
at.
“What are we going to do, Sloan?” Alex laced her fingers through mine and led me to the sofa.
“We need to get back to the States. I must figure out what I have that is so incriminating that people are willing to kill me to silence me.” I needed to think. So many questions swirled in my head.
“Do we have a photo of Ross?” I couldn’t recall the image of my partner.
Alex nodded. “Yes. There’s one in your desk.”
##
Chapter 21
Using our remaining cash and the identification Malika had secured for us, we donned our hijabs and headed to my parents’ home in Texas. We had a short layover in New York before flying into DFW Airport in Dallas.
Dad and I kept in constant contact through our burner phones. We didn’t dare use our credit cards or withdraw funds from our bank accounts. When Dad picked us up at the airport in a pickup truck, I had to fight the tears of joy and relief that threatened to spill from my eyes.
Alex and I slid into the back seat of the vehicle and breathed for the first time since leaving Italy.
“I have rented you an apartment in the Marquis at Turtle Creek,” Dad informed us. “I know how you like fast cars, Sloan, but I got you a pickup. You’ll be less noticeable driving it.”
“Thanks, Dad . . . I think,” I mumbled as Alex snuggled into my side.
“I can’t tell you how great it is to see the two of you back together,” Dad said, beaming. “Your mother is thrilled.”
“Yeah, a year is a long time,” I said. He obviously didn’t know about our monthly rendezvous while I was in Africa.
##
After we arrived at our apartment, Alex began unpacking our suitcases while Dad and I found cold drinks and a plate of sandwiches Mom had placed in our refrigerator.
“What are your plans, hon?” Dad asked as he placed paper plates on the table.
“I need to contact Ross. I have no idea where they’ve hidden him or why.”
A knock on the door made us look at one another. “It’s your mother.” Dad smiled as he opened the door.
A whirlwind of energy flew through my door and into my arms. “Sloan! Oh thank God, Sloan,” she said, sobbing. “And Alex!” She reached for my wife and pulled her into the same tight hug.
She planted multiple kisses on our faces and then stood back to look at us as if trying to make certain we were truly there.
I laughed out loud as I gazed into eyes that mirrored my own. My mother is a fifty-six-year-old version of me. Her hair is still thick and blonde. Her lips are full and beautiful, but her most striking feature is her green eyes. Eyes that look like they could dissect one’s soul. As a child, I was certain those eyes could melt anything if she stared at it long enough.
“Tell us what’s going on with you two,” Mom instructed as she pulled chips from the cabinet and condiments from the fridge.
We spent the next two hours describing our escape from Africa. We moved to the living room, where Alex sat close to me. Mom watched her with a sly smile.
“So, you two . . .” Mom looked from me to Alex and back again. “You are . . . ?”
“Married,” Alex said, her face beaming. “We renewed our vows in Italy. We’re legally married in every country.”
“Twice.” I grinned as I squeezed her hand.
“We need to let these young people get some rest,” Dad said, getting to his feet. “They must be exhausted.”
I nodded. I wasn’t exhausted, but I did want to be alone with my wife.
While Mom and Alex whispered in the kitchen, Dad led me into the foyer and gave me the keys to the pickup he had procured for me. Mom and Alex joined us, and we walked my parents to mom’s car, thanking them profusely for all they had done for us.
##
“What were you two whispering about?” I slipped my arm around Alex’s shoulders as we walked toward our bedroom.
“Girl things,” she said. “Nothing you need to know.”
“I’m a girl.” I pouted. “Why can’t I know?”
She rose on her tiptoes and kissed me. “Your mother was telling me how glad she is you married me.”
“Umm, that makes two of us.”
##
I leaned against the headboard of our bed and watched Alex dress—fitted jeans, pullover, and boots.
“What do you have planned for today?” I asked as she leaned down to kiss me.
“Horseback riding,” she answered with a twinkle in her eye. “You shower while I fix breakfast, and then let’s go horseback riding.”
“Okay,” I said as she swayed out of the room.
We loved riding. Our Texas home was on Lake Granbury, where we owned a little over a hundred acres of waterfront pastureland and six quarter horses.
I was certain the agency was watching our home and any other place they thought we might visit. I needed to do something quickly to resolve my situation. Alex was not the kind of woman to sit still for very long, and I was getting antsy too.
My memory had returned except for the most recent months before my accident. God, if I could only remember where I shipped the information I had gathered and who my handler was. Although I’d been told that Leigh and Ross were part of my team, I couldn’t recall either of them.
I turned off the blow-dryer as Alex slipped her arms around my waist and hugged me tight. She felt good against my naked back.
“Breakfast is ready, baby,” she said, kissing me between my shoulder blades. A tremor ran through my body.
I turned in her arms and kissed her, desperately trying to convey how much I loved her. The way she kissed me back told me she already knew.
##
“Sloan, could we go to the ranch?” Alex said as she refilled our coffee cups. “I miss our horses, and we’re out of cash.”
“I know, honey, but that’s risky. Why don’t we drive around the area and see if we spot anyone surveilling our place?”
She rubbed her hands together. “I’d like that.”
“You know, both of us are adrenaline junkies.” I laughed. “You’re getting excited at the thought of encountering a bad guy.”
“Hmm. I do like it when you use your whip—on other people.” She giggled as she tugged at the whip wrapped around my waist.
“I think it’s ingenious how you make it look like a fashion accessory. If anyone ever realizes it isn’t a belt, women will buy whips by the thousands to emulate you.”
She made me laugh. We both knew she was the trendsetter in our family, the one other women imitated.
##
On the way to the ranch, Alex informed me that I kept a “runner’s kit” ready at all times.
“A runner’s kit?” I raised an eyebrow for further clarification from her.
“You always keep several hundred thousand in cash, a pistol, ammunition, and a dozen phony IDs,” she explained as we parked on a hill overlooking the ranch.
“Do you see anyone?” Alex asked.
“No, but I don’t think we should go to the ranch. Let’s drive around and observe.”
My burner phone buzzed as I pulled back onto the road. “What’s up, Dad?” I put him on speakerphone so Alex could hear.
He informed me that his home was under surveillance, and every time he or mom left the house they were followed.
“That means they don’t believe we’re dead,” I said. “Try to get their license plates. Maybe I can find out what agency they’re from.”
We drove around the area for a couple of hours without encountering any suspicious-looking vehicles.
“Let’s come back tomorrow,” I said. “If we don’t see anyone, we’ll go for a horseback ride.”
“Okay.” Alex grabbed my hand. “Then you get to take me dancing tonight, missy.”
“Boot scootin’ or ballroom?” I quipped.
“The country club.” She pursed her lips and flashed her eyes at me. “I’d like to dress up and torment you for a few hours.”
“That works both w
ays,” I said, using my sexiest voice.
She leaned close and whispered into my ear. “Yes, yes, it does.”
##
Chapter 22
“God, you’re gorgeous,” I said as I watched Alex glide into the living room. “How can you walk so gracefully in those heels?”
“It’s easy, darling, when that’s all one wears. I must admit, I do feel a bit out of practice after following you all over Africa in flat-heeled boots.”
She was wearing a silver lamé dress—it stopped just below her thighs—and matching heels. The dress was backless but modest in the front.
“I love that outfit,” I let my eyes slide down her long legs, “but it doesn’t leave much to the imagination.”
“Umm, but it does make you drool, so it has achieved my goal.” She took my hand and twirled me around.
“You look beautiful.” Her face lit up as she examined my emerald-green gown with a slit up to the thigh. “I’m certain your dress will turn some heads too.”
“Perhaps we should be more low-key.”
“Perhaps, but I love the way you look when you dress like this. I want to spend the evening with the most beautiful woman in the room.”
“As do I.” I brushed my lips across hers. I just wanted to taste her without smudging her lipstick.
##
Dancing with Alex was an exercise in self-control. She pressed herself against me and whispered in my ear, a combination that made my heart rate skyrocket and breathing impossible.
“Are you as turned on as I am?” she whispered as she slid her hand down to the small of my back and pressed further into me.
I didn’t even try to suppress the moan she elicited.
“We should go,” she whispered. “I need to be alone with you.”
I nodded and followed her to the valet stand.
“Ladies,” the valet said with a lopsided grin as he matched our ticket with the keys, “I’ll be right back with your car.”
I didn’t have the heart to tell him it was a pickup.
“What’s keeping him so long?” Alex squirmed as she checked her watch. “I’m dying to get home.”
Ten more minutes passed, and the valet was still missing. “I’ll walk around to the side and get our vehicle myself,” I muttered. “Wait here, baby.”
