Chapter 5
Setha muttered a curse when her fourth flush produced the same dismal results. She used one yellow work-gloved hand to push back a tuft of hair that had fallen from the ratty ponytail she wore.
“Thank you, Jesus…” She sighed when the doorbell caught her ear. She kicked the toilet bowl with the toe of a black hiking boot and stomped from the guest bathroom to the front door.
“My day just keeps getting better,” she grumbled after opening the door to find Khouri Ross on her porch. It was just her luck the man would have to pay a visit while catching her in khaki cutoffs and a tight T-shirt after trying to fix the toilet.
“This a bad time?” he was polite enough to ask while smirking toward the plunger she carried.
“I thought you were the plumber.” She managed a miserable smile.
Khouri cocked a brow and tugged at his earlobe. “I never heard that one before.” He made a pretense at turning away. “Should I go?”
“Oh, no, no, don’t leave.” She extended her free hand and then caught herself, pressing her lips together. “Please come in.” She added a flourishing wave. “I’m praying the plumber can help since my efforts aren’t doing the trick.” She shook the plunger.
“May I help?”
“No.” Her voice held a chuckle. “I wouldn’t dream of it. You’re my guest.”
“I wouldn’t have offered if I minded.”
“Trust me, it’s fine.” She pushed back another tuft of hair. “And my day’s goin’ badly enough without having a houseguest unclog my toilet.”
Her words stoked the serious side of his attention. Soon, he was dwarfing her leggy frame with his taller one.
“What’s wrong?”
Setha hesitated. For an instant, she believed if she told him the problem, everything would be better. A second later her voice of reason was telling her to stop being stupid and she blinked herself out from under the spell he cast.
“Just one of those days.” She drew the back of one hand across her nose and led the way into the living room. “Can I get you anything?” She remembered the plunger and shrugged. “Maybe you should help yourself. You’re free to have anything.”
“Really?” He kept his distance, but his light gaze spoke volumes.
Setha ignored her heart throbbing in her throat. “Bar’s over there. Kitchen’s down that hall to the right.” She looked toward the plunger again. “I better put this up.”
Alone in the living room, Khouri eased his hands into his jean pockets and observed his surroundings. He enjoyed the cozy brightness of the lower levels in the spacious River Oaks home. For a time, he stood somewhat captivated by the view of the elegant courtyard shaded with vibrant brush and trees. The house certainly mimicked its owner, Khouri thought. There was just a hint of something reserved yet bright and open. At least that’s what he felt when he was around her. Having the chance to prove that was a possibility that was beginning to affect his sleep.
“Sorry ’bout that,” Setha called, wiping her hands to the seat of her shorts when she returned to the room.
At the bar, Khouri took it upon himself to fix her a drink while he prepared one for himself.
“Bottoms up,” he said when it appeared she’d just cradle the glass in her hand.
He took her arm and Setha gladly drank down some of the liquid to calm herself as they walked toward the sofa.
“This is some house,” Khouri complimented after they’d enjoyed their drinks in easy silence. “You lived here long?”
“All my life.” Setha smiled wistfully. “It’s where I grew up.”
Looking up at the vaulted ceilings, Khouri nodded while recalling that her father lived in the city.
“I took it over when Daddy moved.”
“You like being so isolated?” Khouri sat then set his elbows to his knees while making the sly inquiry.
Setha sipped more of her drink and shrugged. “I know this place like the back of my hand. I could never be afraid here.” Milliseconds after the declaration, she shivered as memories of a rather frightful evening came to mind. She drank more of the bourbon.
Leaning back on the sofa, Khouri studied her reaction.
She could feel his eyes on her and, while it wasn’t a bad feeling, she couldn’t take a chance on him seeing more than she wanted to reveal. Somehow, she believed that wouldn’t be hard for him to do.
Setting the empty glass on an end table, she forced brightness into her expression. “So tell me about your name—pretty uncommon.”
“Strange, you mean.”
“No.” She smiled at the way he flatly accepted what he perceived as fact. “Not at all… Is there a meaning?”
Khouri’s smile came through. “It’s Arabic for ‘priest.’ My mother read it somewhere, fell in love with it….”
Riveted by the explanation, Setha had curled her legs beneath her on the sofa as she listened. “Have you ever had any aspirations?” she asked when he quieted.
Khouri studied the beaded glass he held. “I wondered whether my mother wanted something like that for me. I toyed with the idea when she passed.”
“I’m sorry.” Setha pressed her lips together and resisted the urge to reach out to him.
“Thanks.” He massaged his jaw briefly and sat up straight on the sofa. “I’m sorry for your loss, as well. How long since your own mother passed?”
“I was in middle school.” Her voice went softer. “My brothers helped my dad raise me.”
Khouri’s hazel stare reflected a hint of knowing. “Protective, huh?”
Setha laughed, full and easy. “That’s an understatement.”
“Guess bringing a date home to meet the family ain’t an easy thing to do?”
Setha laughed more. “Men don’t last long once my father and brothers find out about them.”
“No one’s good enough.”
She considered her answer. “They figure if a guy isn’t strong enough to stand up to them physically or mentally, then he’s not strong enough to protect me or do right by me—in their opinion.”
“And how do you feel about that?” Khouri watched the bridge he made with his fingers.
“I work too hard to worry about it. Anyway—” she sighed “—it’s not so bad. I’m able to remain friends with the men I date.”
Khouri smirked. “You must have lots of male friends.”
“Tons.”
Gaze trained on his hands, Khouri silently admitted that he wasn’t sure how he felt about her answer.
“After meeting so many good guys—more interested in pleasing my family than me—I’ve decided to keep the men I meet on the friendship list and leave ’em there.”
Khouri decided he liked those words much more. “Any of them promising enough to be taken off the list?” he asked anyway.
“And move into my bed, you mean?”
The pointed question had Khouri laughing and coughing. “More or less,” he managed to say.
“Not yet.” Setha studied him thoughtfully, and then nodded toward his glass when he looked her way. “Freshen your drink?”’
Khouri passed his glass and watched her go to the bar.
* * *
“What kind of story?” Avra was asking Gwen Bennett when they spoke by phone later that afternoon. She listened to her friend explain that it’d be about Machine Melendez.
“Well, what’s that got to do with—”
“One of my colleagues is asking questions about why Ross Review hasn’t published a negative story about Melendez since Wade Cornelius’s article about that suicide. Some guy who worked for Machine Melendez killed himself, remember?”
In her den, Avra lost what strength remained in her legs. Slowly, she settled down to the edge of a coffee table. “John Holloway,” she
said.
“Right. Anyway, there’s the lack of negative press from Ross and the immigrant murders that haven’t been discussed in the Review, either.”
“Does the Journal think Melendez is somehow connected to ’em?”
Gwen hesitated.
“Don’t bother. I guess sharing time’s over.”
“We aren’t out to embarrass Ross Review, Av. But there have been questions about why you guys haven’t made a peep about those victims being Melendez employees. If there’s a cover-up going on here, Ross could be affected.”
Gwen sighed. “I’m sorry, Av. I know you weren’t expecting anything like this when you asked me to dig.”
“Don’t be stupid. I’m glad I asked. Listen, um—” Avra moved from the table “—we’ll talk soon, all right?”
“Okay, girl. Have a good one.”
“You, too.” Avra wasted no time dialing out again seconds after the connection broke with Gwen. Paul Tristam’s voice came through the line soon after.
“Hey, get in touch with David Crus and Noah Eames before you head home,” she told her assistant, “and tell them I want to see ’em in my office tomorrow morning.”
* * *
Khouri and Setha opened their electronic planners on their phones and set up meeting times for the next month. They hoped to have the campaign revisions complete long before then, but silently acknowledged how much they enjoyed each other’s company.
Once the meetings were in place, Setha offered a tour of her home. Khouri wasn’t about to refuse it. The tour ended with Setha showing off the courtyard Khouri had admired earlier.
“Next time I’ll show you the firing range,” she blurted out and then winced over being presumptuous.
“I can’t wait.” Khouri’s translucent gaze harbored amusement as he watched her reaction. “You’ve got me curious.”
“Oh? Never seen a firing range?”
“Funny.” He rolled his eyes toward the manmade pond in the distance. “Actually I’m wondering whether you get any use out of it or if it’s strictly for Sam, Pow and Lou,” he said, referencing her brothers.
“Funny,” Setha threw back. “I’ll have you know that I get more use out of it than anyone.” She sized him up. “If you don’t believe me, next time we can take out the rifles and I’ll prove it.”
Khouri didn’t mind her seeing the intensity of his stare. “You’re on,” he said.
Their walk had taken them to the doors leading back into the living room. Setha was about to pull them open when Khouri dropped a hand over hers. Her eyes widened just slightly when he moved closer, towering over her again.
“I think you’ll turn me down again if I ask you to have dinner with me.” He studied the emblem on her T-shirt. “Am I right?” He looked up and focused then on pulling a tuft of hair from its clinging hold around the cuff of her ear.
Setha’s hand weakened on the door lever as he rubbed her hair between his fingers. More than anything, she wanted to accept. Going out anywhere, except to work, had become as nerve-racking as trying to figure out why someone may have wanted her dead.
“I…” She closed her eyes briefly and sighed. “The plumber—he should’ve been here by now. He’s supposed to call my cell when he’s on his way—hopefully that’ll be soon. I, um—I shouldn’t risk missing him.”
Khouri nodded his understanding. “Would I be overstepping if I asked again?”
Her smile was faint. “How could you be overstepping?”
“We’re supposed to be about business.”
“We can have dinner and still be about business.”
He shook his head while dragging his gaze along her body. “Business would be the last thing I’d be about during dinner.”
Setha commanded her lashes to remain still when he moved even closer. The subtle ring of her mobile interrupted whatever may’ve happened. She fumbled for it and answered following a second’s hesitation. It was the plumber letting her know he was approaching the road leading to her home. She ended the call and told Khouri who it was.
“Well, then.” He moved to his full height.
Setha bit her lip while cursing the timing. Suddenly, Khouri dipped close again and she swallowed, praying he’d decided to kiss her. But he was only moving in to open the door.
“Any security on these doors?” he asked as they made their way into the living room.
“The best.” Setha eased one hand into a side pocket on her shorts. “And I locked up before we took our walk. I used my phone to unsecure this lock when we were halfway through the courtyard.”
“This electronic system is all you have?”
She nodded fast.
“No dogs? Guards?”
“I don’t need all that!” She laughed.
“Don’t you think you need somebody out at that gate you don’t use?
“God, Khouri, you’re worse than my brothers.” She brought her other hand to her hip. “If it makes you feel better to know this, at night I buzz everyone in. No one gets through until I see who’s on-screen.”
“Why not use it round-the-clock?” he challenged, shutting the door and securing the lock. “If somebody wanted you bad enough, they could get through to you.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to scare me on purpose.”
“Hell.” Khouri hung his head, massaging the side of his neck. “I’m sorry.”
She shrugged. “’Sokay.” She couldn’t have been truly angry with him even if she tried. “You’ve got three sisters. My guess is being overly concerned comes naturally to you.”
Khouri grinned. “You have no idea.” He pressed a hand to his chest. “I really am sorry. The last thing I want to do is make you nervous.”
Was he serious? Setha asked herself; her nerves were on edge whenever she was within twenty feet of the man. Khouri was walking sensuality. Either he had no idea of his effect on women or he had a fine idea and used it to his considerable advantage. The blare of a truck horn saved her from having to mull over the observation.
“The plumber,” she said.
Khouri shortened the distance between them. “I’ll see you in the morning.” He propped her chin on his index and middle fingers, then trailed them along the curve of her jaw and felt the tension in her throat when she swallowed.
Setha turned to watch him leave the living room and make his way through the foyer where he let himself out.
Chapter 6
Clothes flew hither and yon across Setha’s bedroom suite the next morning as she tried to decide on an appropriate outfit for her meeting at Ross Review. Actually, she wasn’t as interested in selecting the appropriate one as she was in selecting just what would draw and hold Khouri Ross’s beautiful eyes. The dress in hand would do that nicely, she thought, scrutinizing the chic creation. Though it was more suited for business attire, she also contemplated choosing the black pantsuit that flattered her butt.
The idea made her smile and she took note of herself. Losing interest in wardrobe selection, she cast aside the outfits and dropped to the bed holding her head in her hands. Flirting with a guy—even a guy as drop-to-the-knees gorgeous as Khouri Ross—was the last thing she needed on her mind.
How far could it go anyway once he realized her newly acquired aversion to going out? Then there’d be questions—questions she had no answers for. She thought back to his concern over her home security system and it made her smile sadly. She couldn’t add dogs or a guard at that point without raising her family’s suspicions. That would seriously jeopardize her ability to get to the bottom of whatever the hell was going on.
She shook away the thought and conjured up a nicer one of Khouri Ross in her home. It was like he belonged there. She was so used to being at home alone, but his presence there yesterday…he didn’t feel like a gu
est at all.
But business would be the last thing he’d want to discuss, remember? It didn’t take much to decipher the meaning behind that. Was she ready to take it there if the opportunity presented itself?
That was a stupid question when only yesterday she was ready to beg him to do more than kiss her. And then what? Confess everything and have him put her under lock and key faster than her brothers ever would? She knew enough about Khouri Ross to know he’d certainly do exactly that.
* * *
“Dave, Noah, thanks for coming,” Avra hurriedly greeted David Crus and Noah Eames when they arrived at her office for the meeting she’d requested.
“What’s goin’ on, Av?” Noah asked, pleasant as usual.
David was grinning. “Yeah, we don’t usually get called over to this side of town,” he teased, referring to the advertising department.
“Why haven’t you released the news about the immigrant victims being Melendez employees?” she asked, in no mood for small talk.
“Well, it’s…”
“We, um…” Noah exchanged a panicked look with David.
“Are you at least aware of it?” She snapped her fingers when there was more hesitation from the skilled reporters.
“We knew,” David admitted.
Avra asked no further questions and simply spread her hands in a silent request for more information.
“Mr. B told us to hold it back,” Noah confessed.
“Why…? Hey?” she blared when they hesitated again.
“We don’t know, Avra.”
“And we weren’t about to question him on it.”
Avra’s coffee-brown stare shifted back and forth between the two men. “Anything else you’re holding back?”
Yet again, Noah and David passed uneasy looks between one another.
“Dammit! Now, please!” Avra exploded, fists balled at her sides.
“We were tipped off—Wade Cornelius.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Did my father know?” she asked when she was capable of speaking again.
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