“All I can say is … damn, girl!”
Chapter Thirteen
Natasha awoke to birds chirping outside of the window and the smell of bacon permeating the air. She snuggled further under the covers, burying her face into the feather down pillow, Malik’s masculine scent surrounding her. Since he was a morning person, she wasn’t surprised to wake up and he not be in bed. He had once told her that he could live on as little as three or four hours of sleep.
Natasha eased over onto her back and yawned. When she stretched, the welcomed ache between her thighs quickly reminded her of the activities hours ago. Malik had more stamina than anyone she’d ever met, and for the first time in her life, she’d spent the night in the arms of a man who made her feel desired, cherished.
She climbed out of the bed and practically glided to the bathroom feeling lighter on her feet than she’d felt in years. That’s what good lovin’ does to you.
Natasha used the bathroom, admiring the beautiful color scheme of shades of blue and brown. The room was the size of her living room. Dual vanities, a humongous jetted tub, and a shower that looked as if it could hold a basketball team. The space could easily be featured in a bathroom design magazine.
She washed her hands then splashed cold water on her face, before running her fingers through her disheveled hair. Hearing noise in the bedroom, she opened the door to find Tank standing on the other side of it, knowing Malik wouldn’t be far behind.
“Hey there.” She bent down and held Tank’s large head between her hands, ruffling his dark fur. “How are you?” He barked and tried to lick her face, but caught her neck when she turned her head. She had always loved dogs and would have one of her own if it weren’t for the long hours she worked. Tank was a beautiful, well-trained dog, but bigger than she’d want. Malik had told her that he was a rescue dog. Tank had showed up on his doorstep a few months after Malik retired from the military, and when no one claimed him, Malik kept him as his own. They’d been together ever since.
Natasha found Malik standing near the door observing her. The man was a walking billboard for all things powerful and strong. Sexy in his sleeveless tank, his biceps were as big and round as her thighs. Her gaze moved down to the jeans that hung low on his hips, the button unfastened and his belt undone. She swallowed hard. Images of their three rounds of lovemaking came to the forefront. She didn’t think she would ever get tired of being with him.
“Hi,” she said shyly, suddenly feeling nervous under his penetrating gaze.
“What? Tank gets a hug and a whole lot of love, and all I get is ‘hi’?”
Natasha laughed and moved toward him, kissing him on the lips.
“That’s better,” he said, and held up the tray of food he was carrying. “I thought you might be hungry. How about breakfast in bed?”
“Wow. No one has ever made me breakfast in bed.”
Malik’s eyebrows drew up in surprise. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope. I’m serious.”
“You know, I like that ex-husband of yours less and less every day. I can’t believe that chump never made you breakfast in bed.”
Natasha didn’t bother telling Malik that Martin had fallen short in a number of areas in their marriage.
“Come over here and let me show you how breakfast in bed works.” She followed behind him. “Climb back in,” he gestured with his head toward the bed, “and lean against the headboard. Use some of those pillows to put behind you.”
She did as he instructed and watched as he set the tray over her lap, the tray legs straddling her thighs.
“Now relax and dig in.”
Natasha examined the tray, loaded with pancakes, bacon, hash browns, fruit, and a mug filled with hot water. He even had a small bottle of hand sanitizer and a variety of tea bags sitting next to the plate of pancakes.
“I hope you’re planning to help me. I can’t eat all of this.”
“Eat what you can. Tank and I will take care of the rest.”
He climbed on the other side of the bed and stretched out next to her. They talked and laughed while she ate, periodically sharing bacon with Tank and feeding Malik from her fork. She could definitely get used to the attention Malik showered on her so effortlessly.
“What time is your meeting at the hospital?”
“One thirty. I guess I should get ready, considering I need to go home and get changed.” She had received a number of calls last night, letting them all go to voicemail. She didn’t check the voicemail until after she had a chance to shower and relax the night before. Martin had called at least ten times and her boss, Dave, had called, insisting that she call him back. When she did, he told her that there was a meeting set up for this afternoon for her, a couple of administrators, and the legal department. A meeting she wasn’t looking forward to.
When they finished breakfast, Malik moved the tray to the floor and kicked Tank out of the room.
“Alone at last,” he said, and pulled her into his arms, placing soft, feathery kisses along her neck. “Allow me to show you what happens after breakfast in bed.”
Oh yeah, I can definitely get used to this.
Hours later, Natasha strolled up to her front door all set to stick the key in the lock, but the door swung open.
“Where have you been?” Martin snatched off his reading glasses and glared at her. “I have been worried sick about you. Why haven’t you returned any of my calls?”
Natasha glanced behind her outside. Malik was walking around the perimeter of the house, looking for what she didn’t know, but he insisted that she needed an alarm system. After last night’s event, she didn’t argue with him. She’d been thinking about getting a house alarm for months and just hadn’t gotten around to it.
“Martin, you shouldn’t be here.” She dropped her handbag on the sofa, noticing the folded blanket and pillow. A talk with him about not inviting himself over and making himself comfortable in her home was long overdue.
“You were involved in a shootout, stayed out all night, and that’s all you have to say to me? Do you know how many people I called looking for you?”
“Ah, damn. Not this shit again.”
Natasha turned to find Malik standing inside the doorway, glaring at Martin. “I thought you said you two were divorced,” Malik said to Natasha. “If that’s the case, why is he always here?”
“You!” Martin raised his voice and stupidly got in Malik’s face. “You need to learn how to keep your mouth shut. You’re probably the reason she almost got killed last night. And now you bring her home in the middle of the morning as if it’s the most natural thing to do.”
“Martin!” Natasha didn’t know what had gotten in to him.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Malik grabbed the front of Martin’s shirt, pinning him against the wall. “Your ass is the ex-husband and you’re up in her house, uninvited, talking shit to me? Do you have a death wish or something?”
The scene was so high school that Natasha was tempted to leave the two idiots standing there and let them battle it out. Unfortunately, she knew how it would end. Martin wasn’t a fighter, and she had no doubt Malik would pummel him without blinking an eye.
She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples as their voices grew louder. What was her life coming to? For the past few years, every day was much of the same. Yet in the last couple of weeks, there had been more drama around her than she had ever experienced in her life.
“Get your hands off of me!” Martin jerked out of Malik’s grasp, knocking several family pictures to the floor.
“Stop it, both of you!” Natasha screamed. She was tired and frustrated. Therefore, the last thing she wanted to do was break up a fight between two grown men.
She wasn’t sure what they saw on her face, but they stared at her. Malik stepped back and slowly approached her.
“Don’t.” She threw up her hands to halt him midstride. “Don’t say anything, just go.”
Malik lifted a questionable eyebrow. “Let
me get this right. You’re asking me to leave?” He pointed at himself. “Your ex-asshole here is the one who is out of place, but you want me to leave?”
“Malik, please, let’s not do this right now. Let me talk to Martin alone. Please, just go and I’ll talk to you later.”
She narrowed her eyes at Martin when he grunted, looking pretty proud of himself. She’d never known him to be so childish, but lately she’d seen a side of him she didn’t like.
Malik’s eyes bore into her, as if glaring would make her change her mind. “Please just leave,” she said again. “I’ll call you later.”
He stepped back and cursed under his breath, shaking his head. When he did return his gaze to her, the disappointment she saw in his eyes nearly broke her heart and she knew things had changed between them.
“Someone will be here in an hour to install your alarm system,” he said, still glaring at her as if it were taking every ounce of control within him to not explode. “His name is Reuben and—”
“She doesn’t need an alarm system.” Martin moved forward, a couple of feet from her, and joined the conversation. “She has never had a problem until you came along.”
“Enough! Martin, what is wrong with you?” Natasha yelled. “This has nothing to do with you. So shut up and back off!”
“His name is Reuben,” Malik continued as if she and Martin hadn’t spoken. “It should only take him a couple of hours to install it. Then he’ll make sure everything is working properly. Call the office and talk with Victoria if there’s a problem.”
Malik turned and headed for the door. A sense of foreboding came upon Natasha and it felt as if this was good-bye. That’s not what she wanted, but …
“I’m also going to assign a bodyguard to you,” Malik said, his back to her as he stood at the door. “Victoria will give you the details. I’d prefer they shadow you wherever you go.” He finally turned to face her. “But if you don’t want them in the house, interrupting anything the two of you,” he said, and jerked his head toward Martin who was finally quiet, “might have going on, then they can stay outside.”
“Malik, I appreciate the precautions you’re trying to take, but I really don’t think I need a bodyguard. The alarm system should be enough.”
“Victoria will let you know who’ll be assigned to you,” he said, ignoring her plea.
He turned to leave and Natasha grabbed hold of his thick arm. “Malik, please don’t leave like this.”
His dark gaze held her in place, and a deafening silence lay between them.
“This is the second time you’ve asked me to leave because of him. There won’t be a third time.” He eased out of her grasp, slipped on his dark shades, and left.
Natasha stood at the door long after Malik drove away from the house. She liked Malik. Heck, she more than liked him. She just wasn’t sure about them. He was made up of everything mothers warned their daughters about. He had no fear of danger, which made him just as dangerous as some of the hoodlums lurking around outside. She thought about how she’d stared down the barrel of his gun in the middle of the night, scaring her half to death. If that was his norm, there was no way the two of them could have anything more. He was a shoot first and ask questions later kind of guy. Even with all of that, he was everything a woman could ask or hope for. He was thoughtful, caring, and she had no doubt that he would give his life in order to protect hers. And when it came to making love ...
“So what happened last night?” Martin asked from behind her. She had temporarily forgotten he was in the room, witnessing Malik walk out on her. “Were you hurt?” He spun her around to face him. “What exactly happened? The media said there was a shooting, and that there was a doctor dead and you were injured. Are you okay? Did you go to the hospital to get checked out?”
She pulled away from him. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine, and I’m wondering what you were even doing with that guy. You seem to be hanging out with him more and more. He’s not your type.”
Natasha swung around, and within two steps stood before her ex-husband. “Martin, we’ve already had this conversation. You and I are not married anymore. You don’t have the right to interfere in my life and you sure as hell don’t have a say in who I date.” She backed away and shook her head. “I can’t believe that I let our strange relationship go on for this long. I consider you a friend, but we will never be anything more.”
“Sweetheart, you don’t mean that.” Martin touched her arm, but dropped his hand when she stiffened at his touch. “You and I have been through a lot together. Of course I’m going to worry about you and be concerned about the people you hang out with. And Malik is bad news.”
Frustration coiled through her body at how she’d treated Malik. After all that he’d done for her in the past couple of weeks, he didn’t deserve her coldness. Flashbacks of their night together, the way he made her body hum and her toes curl, crowded her mind.
“He’s like a thug playing dress-up in a business suit,” Martin continued, and began picking up the pictures on the floor that had fallen when Malik shoved him. “I think you did right in kicking him out. He’s nothing but trouble. Besides, he’s not your type. A little rough around the edges, don’t you think?”
Natasha balled her hands into a fist, her nails digging into her palms as she approached Martin. “How dare you come into my house and insult my guest. You might not realize this, but you don’t live here anymore!”
She couldn’t ever remember being so angry. The worst part: she sent a wonderful man away. The same man who had saved her life less than twenty-four hours ago and took care of her without any expectations.
She dropped down in the chair next to the sofa. “God, I am so stupid,” she mumbled. Malik didn’t come across as the type of guy who would forgive and forget. This is the second time you’ve asked me to leave because of him. There won’t be a third time. His words stomped around in her head.
“Listen, you’re probably just tired.” Martin’s hands went to where her shoulders met her neck, kneading the tight muscles. “Why don’t I go out and get you something to eat? That big lug you’ve been hanging out with probably hasn’t even fed you.”
Natasha gripped the arms of the chair, digging her fingernails into them to keep from digging her nails into Martin’s pretty face.
“That lug that you’re referring to has not only cooked for me on numerous occasions, but saved my life last night.” She stood slowly, coming face to face with Martin. She didn’t care what Malik said about the bullet being meant for Dr. Halsey, she knew if it weren’t for Malik’s quick thinking, Dr. Halsey wouldn’t have been the only fatality.
Martin stood straighter, standing over her by three inches. “What’s gotten into you? Are you sleeping with this guy? Is that what this is all about? You’re screwing him?” He raised his voice. “He put it on you so good, and now you feel like you have to defend him.”
The palm of Natasha’s hand went up and across Martin’s face before she could stop herself. His glasses flew off and landed on the carpeted floor near the sofa.
“You have truly lost your mind, woman!” Martin rubbed the side of his face where her handprint still showed and glared at her before moving. He went to the sofa without taking his gaze from her and picked up his glasses.
“Get out of my house,” she seethed, her body shaking with the rage roaring through her veins. “And don’t you ever come back.”
“After all that we’ve been through, has it really come to this?” he asked, tucking his glasses into his shirt pocket. “You’re pushing me out of your life to make room for some giant Neanderthal?”
“Llevate tu mierda y salte de mi casa!” She moved to the door and opened it. “Better yet, just get out. I’ll FedEx anything you’ve left behind.”
Malik stormed into Wiz’s office and slammed the door closed. He didn’t care that photos and the large screen monitor rattled against the walls.
Wiz stood at his desk, his green
eyes shooting daggers at Malik.
“I don’t know what the hell is wrong with you, but you better have a damn good reason for slamming my door.”
Malik was too pissed to speak. After leaving Natasha’s house, he drove to a boxing gym he frequented often to burn off some steam. Instead of helping, he was madder than he’d been before going to gym.
“What’s your problem?” Wiz asked, returning to his seat, but still not looking too pleased about the way Malik entered his office.
“Women and their fucking ex-husbands.” He dropped down in the chair closest to Wiz’s desk.
“Ahh, I should’ve known.” Wiz grinned before returning his attention to his computer monitor. “Natasha and her ex.”
Malik filled him in on the scene at Natasha’s house, his anger subsiding a bit. He didn’t know who he was angrier at—himself or Natasha. Himself for falling for her when she clearly wasn’t over her ex, or her for still being in love with her ex-husband.
“So does this mean that you’re done obsessing over her?”
Malik narrowed his eyes at his friend. “I’ve never obsessed over a woman and you know that.”
“Before Tasha came along, I might’ve agreed with you, but when it comes to her, you’re different. And the most telling thing is that she spent the night at your place. I’ve known you a long time and I can’t ever remember you taking a woman to your house, let alone her spending the night.”
Malik closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Who was he kidding? Natasha had gotten under his skin. He wasn’t exactly sure when it happened. Yet, if he were honest with himself, he’d have to say it was the first time he met her … the day he escorted her to L.A. to say good-bye to Quinn and Alandra.
He shook his head. “I’m done. I refuse to be second to her asshole ex.” Malik stood and went to the small refrigerator in the corner of Wiz’s office to grab a beer. “I’ll keep one of my guys on her until I’m satisfied that she’s not in danger, but after that, I’m done.”
Truth or Consequences Page 14
