“Aah.” Khouri took her upper arm and began leading her from the cemetery. Pulling her close, he brought his mouth a breath away from her ear. “Good of you to remind me of that.”
* * *
Had she any idea of how long she’d linger in her foyer later that afternoon, she would have left pillows and blankets there.
Setha had scarcely set her lock when Khouri had her in his arms and was kissing her out of every scrap of clothing she wore. His method was as easy as his manner. He took so much time with her that she wanted to scream for him to give her what she craved the most.
Eventually, she settled for pounding her fists to his back and nudging her hips to his to relay her desires.
“Wait for it…” he coaxed, tonguing his way down, over and around her plump, lace-covered breasts.
He subjected her to double caresses of every sort—kissing her deep while massaging the hem of the dress up over her thighs—unhooking her bra while stroking her nipples through the fabric.
Setha couldn’t recall when pleasure had last visited her so exquisitely. She realized that she couldn’t recall because it had never visited her so exquisitely.
She pushed the jacket from his back and unbuttoned his shirt, but he captured her wrists and prevented her from doing more. Still, she strained against his hold and then submitted and watched her nails graze the unyielding breadth of his caramel-toned chest. She waited, not against letting him have his way.
Khouri took great advantage of her decision. Suckling her earlobe, he brushed his fingers across the lavender bikini-cut panties she wore and grazed the hypersensitive nub of desire at the apex of her thighs.
The simple caress carried her toward the brink of an orgasm. Without shame, Setha cried out into his shoulder and squeezed her thighs tight about his fingers. Soon after, she felt the foyer’s cool checkerboard flooring against her bare bottom. Her panties clung to one slender ankle along with one sheer stocking—the other had been tossed aside.
Without effort, Khouri lifted her and replaced her on his dark suit coat. He took her out of the dress and bra seconds later. Then, he stopped and took time to worship the texture and complexion of her skin—her body.
Setha bit down on her lip, lashes fluttering on the nervousness swirling within. The nervousness had nothing to do with fear but anticipation. The way he watched her, she wondered if he was trying to decide which part of her to feast on first.
He decided. His hands covered her breasts. Setha felt her entire body shiver in reaction. His thumbs rubbed across the firming nipples until they puckered up out of the dark mounds. He maintained the caress even as he lowered his head to her thighs and again manipulated the sensitized nub that sent pleasure lancing through her. The fact that his tongue stirred the throbbing desire had Setha arching instinctively into the oral treat that he delivered.
She couldn’t make up her mind whether to rake her fingers through his hair or hers. She decided on threading her fingers through the cropped curls—the move allowed her to direct the tilt of his head as he took her to the threshold of climax for a second time.
“Khouri…” she sobbed when he pulled away that time. Blindly, she reached out for him only to feel his hand on hers before he pressed a kiss to her palm. “Jackass,” she hissed.
He had the nerve to grin while watching her pout. Rising above her, he slowly unfastened the cuffs of the dark shirt and pulled it from his back.
Setha noticed the condom he took out of his pocket and she pulled him down into a throaty kiss that he was totally unprepared for. She kissed him hungrily, stroking his tongue and entwining it about hers. All the while, she worked at the fastening of his trousers.
Khouri was undone by the mastery of her kiss. It didn’t register that she’d freed his erection and applied the condom, until he felt her nails raking his bare butt.
“Setha…hell.” He wouldn’t waste time removing his pants and took her in one long thrust.
She whimpered instantly—eagerly going to work winding herself along his enviable length. Her lips formed a small O as she took him. He felt like sheer heaven, filling her, hitting every intimate spot inside her core.
Khouri rested his head on her shoulder, relishing the tight, creamy heat that gloved him. He changed the direction of his thrusts and smiled weakly at the sound of her whimpers changing over to moans. Regaining control, he placed a hand over each thigh which opened her more fully to his drives. He claimed her at his leisure and didn’t allow her much room to move when it was obvious that she wanted to lock her legs around his back.
Setha rested her arms above her head. Already pert, full breasts moved to a more prominent position. Khouri couldn’t resist tugging one into his mouth, devouring the dark-chocolate-dipped nipple as he groaned.
Total bliss engulfing her, Setha shivered when he finally let her wrap her legs around his waist. She drew him deeper, clenching her walls around him, keeping him where she wanted him and sighing her approval.
In time, their movements became frenzied. The rapacious fire between them filled the foyer with sounds of release and satisfaction.
Chapter 10
Khouri’s approving smile deepened when he snuggled into the bed coverings. He could hear the change in Setha’s breathing and knew she was awake.
“Floor’s nice—this is better,” he groaned. When there was no comment, he opened an eye and looked her way. “What?”
Setha lazily trailed her fingers through his hair. “Your cologne…it’s very nice.”
His bright sleep-sexy gaze narrowed. “Thanks,” he murmured.
“It’s different. I can’t quite place it.”
“It’s not easy to find.” He snuggled back into the pillow and grazed his fingers down the bare arm closest to him on the pillow. “I get it from this specialty shop down in Kemah.”
Setha nodded, studying her hands folded in the middle of a pillow. She’d been resting on her elbows and watching him as he slept.
“Well, it’s really nice.” She stroked the long silky hairs of his brows. “I think I’ve only smelled it on one other guy.”
Eyes closed, he produced a lazy smile. “Oh, yeah?”
“Mmm-hmm.” She laughed softly then. “I don’t even know his name.” She risked a look at Khouri whose eyes were still closed. “Guess you could say he came to my rescue….”
Khouri opened his eyes then, but watched her in silence over the span of several seconds. “When was this?”
“A few weeks ago.”
“At a club?”
Her breath caught and she broke eye contact. “Yeah…your sister’s club—behind it, actually.”
“Who was he, Setha?”
She squeezed her eyes shut tight. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“At first, I thought I was crazy.” He rubbed his eyes. “But there was no mistaking you—’specially after you came to my office.” He looked up at her then. “When did you know it was me?”
“I forgot about the cologne. When I saw you at the funeral with your sisters…” She flexed her fingers against the pillow. “Raquel is the one who owns the club, right?” She took his smile for confirmation. “And then there’s your car… Is that why you gave me a ride today?”
His smile turning wicked, Khouri looked under the sheet at her bare form beneath. “That is definitely not why I gave you a ride today. Who is he?”
He repeated the question before she could smile over his suggestive words. “It’s complicated,” she said.
A muscle flexed along Khouri’s jaw when his stare faltered. “Did you— Do you love him?”
“What? No. No, it—it’s not like that. Not that at all.” She almost laughed at the absurdity of it.
“Then what is it?” His slow-to-rise temper was beginning to simmer.
“I—”
“Setha, believe me when I say that I plan on askin’ ’til I get an answer. A good one.”
She blinked, understanding that he meant what he said. “This is bigger than me, Khouri, and it’s got nothing to do with a love affair gone bad.”
He caught her wrist when she shifted between the covers. “Why won’t you tell me? Don’t you trust me? Because I damn well don’t buy that you go to bed with guys you don’t trust.”
Setha stretched the hand above the wrist he held and smoothed it across his jaw. “You’re so much like my brothers that it’s scary.”
“Jesus, Setha.” He massaged the back of his free hand across the frown forming at his brow. “What the hell does that mean?”
“If they knew what I was doing, they’d bully, badger and crowd me ’til I backed off and let them handle it.” Heavy tufts of wavy dark hair curtained her face when she bowed her head. “I have to see this through. I know too much not to see it through.”
Khouri muttered another curse while pushing himself up against the headboard. “People say I’m the ‘laid-back’ one of my family. I guess they think I have to be to handle women like my sisters unless I want to get run over.” His easy smile faded when he looked Setha’s way. “But folks soon come to realize that it’s not wise to make me angry. This is precisely what you’re doing right now.”
She shook her head resolvedly. “I can’t…tell you.” She scooted to her knees before he could explode and held his face in her hands. “I have to show you.”
* * *
Danilo was just rounding the bar when his guest arrived. “Thanks for coming, Bas.”
“You made it sound urgent,” Basil Ross said once he exchanged a handshake with his old friend.
“Wouldn’t you agree in light of everything going on lately?”
Basil pulled off his black suit jacket. “Are we talkin’ Wade’s death or—”
“We’re talking Wade’s death and the death of my employees.”
Basil sipped the Courvoisier Dan handed him. “You think it’s all connected?”
“Has to be.”
Basil began to walk a path around the room with its early evening view of the Melendez prized horses. “The murders have been professionally handled—that’s obvious.”
Dan’s hand paused over a bottle of Hennessey. “How do you know that?”
“They’re too clean.” He tasted more of the drink. “Won’t be long before the press decides to announce the connection between the victims and Machine Melendez.”
“Why do you think they haven’t done that yet?”
“Well, I know why my staff hasn’t.” Basil’s piercing hazel stare reflected confident authority that gradually merged into something a bit more suspect. “I can only think of one reason the others haven’t. It doesn’t take a genius to see Ross Review has a soft spot for Melendez. If these murders turn out to be a storm for the Machine, it could be said that Ross was covering for you.” He scratched at the baby-fine hair along his temple. “I don’t even want to think about the repercussions of that.”
Cradling his glass in both hands, Dan sat on the corner of an armchair. “You think the murderer has ties to MM?” His handsome copper-toned face was a picture of disbelief.
“I pray that’s not the case.” Basil stared into the contents of his glass before tossing it all back. “But you know as well as I do that a lot of bad history has gone into the forming of both our companies. Whether or not the murders are a part of that doesn’t dismiss the fact that there are horrors we can be tied to—even to this day.”
“Basil.” Dan left the arm of the chair. Awkwardly he tugged the black-and-gold suspenders from his broad shoulders while holding on to his glass of Hennessey. He settled down into a chair this time. “The kids can never find out about any of that.”
“Naive to think none of it will ever come out.” Basil set his empty glass on the oak bar top. “Maybe it’s time for us to pay the piper.”
“You think there could be blackmail?”
“It’d make sense.” Basil stroked the flawless mocha-colored skin covering his jaw. “’Specially if this really does have to do with something ugly from our pasts. There’ve been five murders already, Dan, and no one’s come to us with any demands.”
Somewhat pacified by that fact, Dan sipped his drink. “Why?”
“Because that would mean whoever’s behind this isn’t after money.” Basil went to stand before the windows. “And that would mean that this is very personal.”
* * *
Over coffee and a plate of cookies—from her baking spree earlier that week—Setha told Khouri how her present situation began.
“Carson Arroyo.” Cradling a warm mug in her hands she sat cross-legged in the tangled bed and told him about the young man who had visited her office one day.
“I was out of town. My staff said he had insisted on speaking to me even though he was obviously troubled.” For several seconds her nails tapping the ceramic mug were the only sounds in the room. “I got the message he left when I returned from my trip. Same day, I get a call from a man asking about this same guy. He was set on finding out what the guy said to me and sounded kind of put out when I had to tell him, more than once, that I wasn’t even here when the guy came by.”
“A hard-to-convince type,” Khouri noted, muscle-corded arms folded over his broad chest while he leaned back against the pillows at the headboard.
“Hmph. And then some.” She sipped at her coffee and then reached over for one of the large manila folders that were held together by a fat rubber band which she pulled off. Shuffling through the contents, she located a pink message slip which she handed to Khouri.
“No number?” He waved the ticket noting the mysterious visitor.
“He came to the office the same day I got back—like he knew I was there.”
Khouri’s eyes narrowed. “Has he been following you since then?”
Setha drew up her legs and set her chin to a knee. “It’d make sense but it was still a while before I put it all together. I couldn’t see why someone who wanted me dead would introduce himself much less want me to know what he looks like.”
“All kinds of fools in this world, darlin’,” Khouri murmured, while studying the message slip. “Maybe he doesn’t want you dead.” His brilliant stare traveled with meaning across her face and body.
Setha shook her head and smiled self-consciously. “I’m pretty sure he’s not in love with me.”
Did the woman ever look into a mirror? Khouri asked himself, observing her bare, licorice-dark legs peeking out from beneath the hem of his shirt. “Why is that so hard to believe?” he asked.
“Because there’s more.”
“There’d have to be.” He looked toward the second hefty folder on the bed.
Setha put her mug on the nightstand and then scooted toward the folder. “This is where it gets complicated.”
“You’re kidding?”
Grinning, she nudged her foot against his calf in payback for the sarcasm. “Did you know all the victims in those immigrant worker murders were Melendez employees?”
Khouri’s jaw muscle flexed. “I heard that.”
From the folder, Setha retrieved what looked like a news article. “Look at this.”
“Ross Review, May 1986?” he noted.
“Check the byline.”
“Wade Cornelius.” He pushed up against the pillows lining the carved pine headboard and scanned the article with a keener eye.
“Apparently there was a suicide. A man named John Holloway—a former Melendez employee.”
“Honey, what—”
“Just wait.” Setha scooted to her knees and extended her hands. “Just bear with me a few more seconds, all right?
“I got that article from
Carson Arroyo,” she continued when the tension relaxed in Khouri’s shoulders.
“What’d he tell you?”
“Marveled about the office—” her hands fell to her lap “—went on and on about the building—asked me what kind of charities we handled and whether MM offered protection to the families of fallen workers. Before I could explain what we did, he gave me the article along with a photo of a billboard ad.” She returned to the folder and withdrew the shot.
PROTECTING WORKERS AND THEIR FAMILIES THE MACHINE MELENDEZ WAY!
“He asked me if we protected the families of workers believed to have committed suicide.” She moved to the head of the bed and leaned against Khouri. “I finally got the sense that the guy was more than someone in need of a hot meal. One of my staff came into the office and he just left. Didn’t take the article or the other papers in the folder he had brought. Since that day, I’ve been trying to find a connection between that ad, that story and Carson Arroyo.”
“Have you told any of this to the cops?”
“Are you crazy? My brothers would find out then for sure.”
“And this is a bad thing?”
“Khouri, I have to know what this is. Can’t you understand that?”
“Not if it means your life.” He caught her wrist when she moved. “Have you already forgotten the son of a b who chased you down an alley?”
She gave a noticeable shiver. “I could never forget that.”
He relaxed his hold. “That night. Why were you there?”
She gave a sad smile. “I wanted to talk to somebody who knew Wade Cornelius. It was obvious that he was writing slanted stories in favor of my dad’s business. I didn’t know what kind of man that made him so I decided to start by speaking to the people who may’ve known him best.” She tossed back hair from her forehead. “I couldn’t risk going to the Review with Samson working there with Avra—thought I could make an in with Raquel and start some sort of dialogue but I ran into you instead.”
Texas Love Song Page 9
