Some twenty minutes later, they passed a sign that read Opa-Locka Executive Airport. Elliot turned onto a side road that appeared to be for commercial use only. They soon pulled into a small parking lot just outside a large but unpopulated airplane hangar. When Thandie turned to Elliot expecting an explanation, he only smirked in response.
Helping her out of the vehicle, Elliot led her inside the building where a uniformed man welcomed them by name and escorted them to a gleaming white private jet. Two more men were waiting to greet them at the plane’s entrance. Recognizing Elliot, both men shook his hand before turning to introduce themselves to Thandie. She didn’t catch their names, but figured out she’d shaken hands with the captain and co-pilot before being led on board. Thandie was vaguely aware of being guided deeper into the cabin, and lured onto a long leather couch that lined one wall.
The interior of the jet was a vista of buttercream leather and polished woodgrain surfaces. It was grandeur on a level she had never seen before. The plush seating was well spaced out, able to easily accommodate fifteen people with room to spare. Closed doors at the back of the plane hinted there was more to be seen.
A handsome man with blond hair appeared from the rear of the cabin. Introducing himself as James, their flight attendant, he turned to Elliot and asked if he were ready to depart. Elliot nodded and the man consulted with the captain. Almost immediately the plane began easing out of the hangar.
* * *
After they were airborne, she turned to Elliot and asked, “Is this your jet?”
“No,” he said with a shake of his head. “This doesn’t belong to me. I travel quite a bit, but not near enough to justify purchasing something this ostentatious.”
“So if it isn’t yours...”
“I’m borrowing it from Nico. As well as his staff, of course.”
“This is Nico’s plane?” Thandie couldn’t conceal the shock she felt. She looked around her luxurious surroundings. “What exactly does Nico do?”
Elliot made a waving motion with his hand. “I suppose he does everything, and yet nothing.” He thought for a moment. “If you had to categorize him, he could best be described as an international investor.”
Thandie nodded her head, intrigued. “And he just let you borrow his plane?”
A slow smile snaked across his lips. “We share quite a few things.”
Thandie lifted her brow.
He patted his lap. “Come sit here.”
“No, the steward will see us.” She squealed when he scooped his hands around her hips, and lifted her onto his lap.
“There,” he said. “Isn’t that better?”
Thandie was too busy laughing to answer. When he slipped his hand beneath the folds of her dress and caressed her upper thigh, she sighed.
“This is the only way to fly,” he said with a chuckle.
“I think it’s time you tell me where you’re taking me,” she insisted.
“Someplace special.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“I’ll make a deal with you, Thandie. If I tell you, you can’t ask any more questions until we land.”
“Agreed. Tell me.”
“Havana.”
Thandie sat up straighter. “Havana? As in Cuba?”
Elliot tsked. “Remember our deal, pussycat.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “No more questions.”
“You can’t take me away like this and not expect me to have questions.”
Grazing his lips against her ear, he said, “We have some time to kill. Shall I give you the grand tour?” When she nodded, he smiled wickedly. “Good. I’d like to start with the bedroom at the back of the cabin.”
* * *
Shortly thereafter, they landed at a small airport just beyond the city lights. Registering in the country was a bit too easy. Thandie and Elliot handed their passports to an official who glanced at their paperwork and handed it back with a smile and stamped visas.
A car was waiting for them on the tarmac. Sliding into the backseat, Elliot gave directions to the driver. Unable to understand the lengthy Spanish conversation that followed, Thandie turned her attention to the thriving city outside the car’s windows. As the car whipped through the streets, Elliot explained they were now in the heart of Havana. He pointed out landmarks, marketplaces and local hangouts. His fondness for the city was obvious. The more he spoke, the more relaxed he seemed. Thandie found she enjoyed simply listening to the sound of his voice and watching his expressions as he leaned over her shoulder to peer out the window.
Elliot had the driver drop them off at a busy intersection that pushed up along the beach and a number of restaurants. He gave the driver a generous amount of Cuban pesos, then Elliot took Thandie’s hand, and led her into the busy streets of Havana. Beautiful gothic cathedrals shared the same block as graffitied ruins. Nightclubs oozed jazzy Latin music and shouts of laughter.
Thandie got another shock when several of the shop owners called out Elliot’s name and waved to him with wide smiles.
“Do they know you?” she asked when he returned their greetings.
“Yes, they know me rather well,” he said with a laugh. “But mostly, they remember my father. He was from the neighborhood.”
“How often do you come here?”
He thought for a moment. “At least once or twice a month, if I can manage it.”
The streets were crowded with people coming and going, basking in the rhythm of Havana’s nightlife. Elliot and Thandie walked the congested sidewalks, wandering in and out of the many clubs and bistros. Street musicians played their guitars and bongos, encouraging couples to dance for them. Included in the rustle of music and voices was the constant sound of cars bustling by and the crush of ocean waves crashing against the shore.
Eventually, Elliot steered them toward the beach. Walking hand-in-hand along the sidewalk, with the ocean on their left, they both felt light. Elliot filled the time by telling her about all the times his parents had brought him here when he was a child and pointing out storefronts he remembered.
He was mid sentence when he stopped and jerked his head back. Thandie turned to see what had caught his attention. A peddler had stationed his cart a few steps ahead of them. A variety of trinkets hung from the wagon: seashell necklaces, wooden toy cars, airplanes made out of recycled soda cans. Elliot stepped forward and peered down at a something small resting on a makeshift shelf. Thandie stepped closer to see it was a small circular object made of wood. Carved into the surface were the words Industriales Havana.
Elliot reached out to hold the object in his hand. He flipped it over in his palm and a diamond shaped emblem with a lion etched across it came into view, Leones Azules. An odd expression shadowed Elliot’s face.
“What is it?” Thandie asked.
“It’s a yo-yo,” he said in a tight voice. Pulling a string Thandie hadn’t noticed at first, he slipped his finger into the small loop, and dropped the wooden yo-yo. It rolled down the length of the string before snapping back into his palm, as if summoned by magic. He pointed to the carved emblem. “It’s the Industriales symbol, a local baseball team.” He palmed the toy in his hand thoughtfully. “I used to have one of these,” he said. “It was a cheap little thing. Something your parents give you to keep you occupied.” He squeezed the toy in his hand. “My father bought it for me when I was...six years old I believe.”
“What happened to it?” she asked softly.
He shook his head. “I can’t remember. I lost it.”
“Do you want to get that one?”
Elliot abruptly shook his head and placed the yo-yo back on the chart’s shelf with a loud smack. The old man working the cart, looked up in surprise. Elliot muttered an apology, fished out a crisp dollar bill from his wallet and pushed it into the man’s hand. Without even looking back, he walked off. Thandie was left to stare after him. Giving the old man an apologetic smile, she chased after Elliot.
Yanking his arm, she turned him around. “What was t
hat all about?”
He glowered back at the cart, as if it had done something to offend him. And then, without warning, he pulled Thandie to him and crushed her lips beneath his own. His mouth was hot and demanding, giving her no choice but to melt under the passion. With his hands stroking wide circles against her back, Thandie soon forgot the explanation she’d been demanding.
It was Elliot who eventually pulled away. His eyes were cloudy with passion, but a smile tugged at his mouth. “I need you,” he said roughly. Without another word, he guided her across the street, waving his hand to a man who lounged against his car.
It was the same driver who’d driven them from the airport. Elliot had somehow maneuvered their wanderings into a large circle, resulting in them ending up not far from where they started. He must have paid the man to wait for them.
It wasn’t until Thandie was settled into the backseat did she begin to feel a dull ache in her feet. Leaning into Elliot’s side, she listened to him and the driver chat. Again, she marveled at the sound of his voice. Low, distinct and controlled.
She must have dozed off, because the next thing she knew, Elliot was nudging her awake. She blinked sleepily at him and then looked around. The car was parked in front of a luxurious colonial-style villa in a rather desirable neighborhood.
Lights reflected off the white exterior, making the building appear taller than it actually was. It glowed in the darkness, emphasizing slender columns and numerous terraces.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“Detrás de la Fachada,” he said. “It literally means, ‘behind the facade.’” Handing the driver a tip, Elliot slid out of the car before turning to help Thandie. “It is also my home.”
“You live here?” she asked, inclining her head to the house.
In answer, he only smiled. Just as they were walking up to the gate that secured the perimeter of the grounds, the front door of the home opened. A native man came out. He smiled brightly at Elliot as he unlocked the gate for them. He and Elliot exchanged words before the man disappeared around a corner of the house. Ushering Thandie inside the house, Elliot locked the door behind him.
“Who was that?” Thandie asked, feeling like a broken record.
“Manuel,” he said. “He and his wife are caretakers for the house.”
“Do they live here?”
“Yes, in a small house at the rear of the property.” Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he studied the screen, making a peculiar expression as he read whatever had caught his attention. “Make yourself at home,” he said, still looking at the phone’s display. “I need to return a call.”
As Elliot drifted into another room, Thandie went on a tour. She floated from one room to another, marveling at the architecture and stylish decor. At the end of her careful exploration, she’d confirmed the villa boasted a small garden, terraces overlooking the sea, a living room, four bedrooms, three bathrooms and a large American-style kitchen.
“Does it pass inspection?”
Thandie jumped at the sound of Elliot’s voice. He’d sneaked up behind her while she’d been looking out a window in what she assumed to be the master bedroom. Turning to look at him, she said, “I can’t help but notice this villa looks brand new. How old is it?”
“It’s just over five years old.” He came to her, stopping when he was only a foot away. “What sat here before then was basically ruins.”
“And you own this house?”
“Consider it my inheritance.” He brushed the back of his hand against her cheek, and said in a low whisper, “No more questions.”
Slowly, he reached for the clasps at the back of her neck. Thandie stood still while Elliot helped her out of her dress before stripping out of his own clothes. At his prompting, they showered together. And when they were done, Elliot dried them both off before leading her to the massive bed. She slid beneath him, opening her legs in a silent but desperate invitation. Elliot cradled himself between her thighs, and leaned forward to kiss her deeply, passionately. When he pulled back, they were both gasping for breath. Elliot’s voice was husky when he said, “I intend to make you purr for me tonight, pussycat.”
And then he did just that.
* * *
They slept well into the afternoon. The flight, a night of sightseeing, followed by satisfying sex had taken its toll on them. Elliot was the first to wake, and he made quick work of getting himself together. When he emerged from the bathroom he was dressed in white jeans and polo shirt. Thandie grimaced at how effortless it was for him to look picture perfect. He could have been posing for a Ralph Lauren photo shoot.
Leaving her to rest a little longer, Elliot went to a nearby shop to purchase her some clothes. When he returned, Thandie changed into the cotton dress he presented her with. When she asked about undergarments, he gave her a devilish grin and insisted Cuba did not sell panties.
By the time they finished eating breakfast, prepared by Manuel’s wife, the car had arrived to take them back to the airport. The ride to the airstrip was brief. The jet’s engines were running when their car pulled alongside it on the tarmac. Just as before, the crew welcomed them on board.
Taking his seat, Elliot immediately pulled Thandie into his lap. Five minutes later, they were airborne. As the plane climbed, Elliot held her close, and they watched Cuba disappear behind a veil of clouds. Then Elliot spent most of the flight talking on his cell phone. It had been ringing nonstop since they woke up.
Thandie tucked her face into the crook of his neck while she listened to him juggle one phone call after the next. Every so often, she smiled when she felt his palm stroke her breasts or upper thigh.
The flight back to Miami was over far too soon. Thandie regretted not having more time to see more of Havana, but she was thankful for their time away. She’d seen Elliot in a whole new light. He could be kind and responsive, sweet and caring. She felt something had changed between them during this trip. She was closer to seeing the real Elliot Richards than she had ever been before.
Chapter Twenty-Four
He was gone when she woke up.
Thandie knew he would be even before she opened her eyes. There was no bedside note waiting for her, filled with sugary words and passionate promises. He was simply gone.
Thandie felt vaguely hollow inside. However, it was probably for the best he’d left when he did; better for her, at least. She was suffering from charm-overload. She needed a break from the beautiful dresses, private jet and magnificent villa on a tropical island. One more week with that sort of treatment, and she would be completely smitten. Distance was a good thing.
For a long time she lay there, breathing in his scent. It was as heady and tantalizing as the man himself. Thandie tried to keep her emotions in check, but it was difficult. A million questions ran through her head all at once; questions she could not afford to ponder. Where was he? Was he alone? Was he with another woman?
No, she could not go there. Not even in the quiet recesses of her mind could she allow herself to fret over those questions. That type of thinking veered too much into the girlfriend category, and one thing Thandie definitely wasn’t was Elliot Richards’s girlfriend.
But did she want to be?
Their conversation from a few nights past came back to her. “I don’t do girlfriends,” he’d said. He’d meant every word. Not that she’d been surprised. Thandie had known Elliot was a ladies’ man from the beginning. She’d entertained no fantasies that she was the only woman in his life, or bed. Their sexual encounters had been a combination of lust and convenience. Half of that scenario would no longer exist when she returned to New York in a few short weeks. So when had the situation changed for her? Was it the trip to Havana? No, it had been before that. But when?
Thandie squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the direction her thoughts were going. She could not let herself journey that dark path. She couldn’t afford it. She would lose something valuable if she stumbled down that road. This was just sex. Plain and s
imple. It could only be about sex. Hard, satisfying, can-barely-walk-in-the-morning sex.
Thandie threw back the covers and stood up. She was just about to round the bed’s edge when she came to an abrupt halt. She blinked. At the precise spot where she kept stubbing her toe, there was empty space. The bench was not there. Confused, she looked around. There, pushed along the wall, sat the offending piece of furniture. Had Elliot moved it? If so, why?
Refusing to place any importance on such an odd action, Thandie brushed past the spot and quietly tiptoed to the opposite side of the house. As soon as she was in her own room, she began to wash up.
By the time she’d pulled on clothes, there was a loud commotion from down the hall. Len and Raja’s voices continued to rise by the minute. Thandie sighed tiredly. It was hard to imagine the girls could find something to argue about when they’d only been awake for half an hour. Stepping into the hall, Thandie quietly eased down the hall. The last thing she needed today was to be sucked into the fray.
Entering the kitchen, she began rummaging through the cabinets, searching for something appetizing. Grabbing a box of cereal from the pantry, she poured herself a bowl.
She heard the doorbell, and went to answer it. Warren stood on the doorstep, dressed in a suit and wearing his customary smile.
“Hey, kiddo!” he said brightly, giving her a hug as he stepped inside. “You look relaxed.”
“Hi, Warren. What are you doing here?” she asked.
“I promised Len and Raja I’d take them shopping weeks ago.” He shrugged. “They finally called me with a date.”
Thandie nodded her head. This would explain the arguing she’s heard earlier. Waving him toward the kitchen, she said, “You never should have offered.”
“I know,” Warren said with a sigh. He looked around the living areas. “Is Lucinda here?”
“I’m afraid not. It’s just me and the girls.” She wrinkled her brows. “Aren’t you a little overdressed to go on a shopping spree?”
“I had a meeting this morning.”
Beyond the Velvet Rope Page 38
