The Ramseys Boxed Set

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The Ramseys Boxed Set Page 6

by Altonya Washington


  “And we both know how unrealistic that is, don’t we?”

  County leaned back in her chair as well and finally pinned Mick with an airy look. “You know, you try to come across as so hard-assed and cynical, but you’re the biggest dreamer- the biggest romantic.”

  “I allow you to believe that,” Mick replied with a flip wave.

  “One day you’ll admit it to yourself,” County predicted.

  “You know,” Mick said, fixing County with an unwavering look, “this may sound like a cliche’, but my work is enough for me. It gives me satisfaction, notice, money...and it hasn’t let me down yet.”

  “Mmm...and does it make your toes curl and your heart flutter when it looks at you?”

  Mick had no reply.

  ~~~

  After lunch with County, Mick returned to her hotel suite to be greeted by the sound of a ringing phone. A low groan rose deep in her throat as she pulled the receiver from its cradle.

  “Michaela Sellars,” she greeted.

  “Mick!”

  “Quaysar?” Mick returned, frowning slightly in surprise.

  “Damn, how in the hell do you do that? I should be flattered that you recognize my voice so quickly.”

  Mick laughed at the man’s never ending supply of self-confidence. Amidst the lightness of the mood, however, she could sense something wasn’t quite right.

  “Is there a problem?” she asked eventually.

  Quay was silent on the other end and Mick thought she could hear him grinding his teeth.

  “I have to cancel our dinner date.”

  Mick smiled. “I see.”

  “Damn it. I really hate this. I really wanted us to go out.”

  “It’s alright Quay. I understand, really.”

  “Can I make this up to you?”

  Mick shook her head. “There’s no need. I assure you. This great hotel I’m in is make-up enough, trust me.”

  “You’re a great lady, Mick Sellars.”

  “And don’t you forget it,” she ordered, pointing her index finger toward the floor. “Just look me up if you’re ever in Chicago.”

  “Count on it.”

  “Good night, Quay,” she said and then set down the phone. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply and rubbed her hands across her face and through her hair. She ambled across the softly lit living room and flopped into one of the cushioned armchairs.

  “What a day,” she moaned to the empty room, kicking off her white Reeboks and rubbing her feet. Again, she closed her eyes to savor the treat to her aching toes. So much walking, she recalled from the day. Of course, she knew she’d do it all over again if it promised a chance to spend time with Quest Ramsey.

  “Damn it, Mick,” she hissed, becoming angry with herself for behaving like a fool. Just because the man is charming, interesting, intelligent, smells great, acts like a gentleman, looks like a god…

  “Stop it, Mick!” she bolted from the chair to make a beeline for the bar cart in the corner of the room. She splashed a bit of the forbidden juice into the cooler and heartily imbibed. After two tangy glasses of vodka and OJ, she was quite at ease.

  The relaxation ended a second or two later when the phone rang. Mick pressed her hands to her ears briefly before turning herself in the direction of the message desk.

  “Yes,” her greeting was lazy.

  “Michaela?”

  “Mmm, hi Quest,” she recognized the man’s voice when it filtered through the line.

  Quest didn’t bother to ask how she knew it was him. He only knew that he liked it. He liked it very much. He shook his head, remembering the purpose of his call. “Do you have plans for dinner?” he asked her.

  Mick laughed and leaned against the desk. “Well, I thought I did, but your brother just canceled out on me.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” he lied, “but it must’ve been something really important to make him do that. I know how much he was looking forward to, um, seeing you.”

  “Mmm…”

  “So will you settle for second best?”

  Mick’s lashes fluttered as she gazed up at the ceiling. “Well, since second best just cancelled out on me, I’d love to have dinner with you. If you’re asking.”

  Quest leaned back against the leather headrest in his truck where he’d placed the call. “I’m definitely asking,” he confirmed, loving the low husky sound of her voice drifting from his cell. “Be ready by seven,” he requested.

  “I will,” Mick closed her eyes when the connection ended and praised herself for not fumbling the two words. She set down the phone and then squeezed her hands tight and twirled right where she stood.

  “Hold it!” she commanded, raising one hand as though she were about to testify. “Michaela Sellars does not twirl in place because a man asked her out. Besides...all that twirling makes one dizzy,” she acknowledged with a haughty sniff before trudging away from the desk toward the sofa. Her fingers traveled to the buttons along the bodice of her pink tee and she had every intention of removing the top. Sadly, she had only managed to finish unbuttoning the shirt when her eyelids grew heavy and she fell face first into the sofa cushions.

  ~~~

  Michaela opened one eye. “Ow,” she groaned, feeling a fierce pain pulse to life there. Her agony wasn’t eased a bit when the insistent ring of the doorbell pierced the silence. Slowly, she pushed herself into a sitting position while smoothing a hoard of curls from her face. Taking a deep breath, she scooted off the sofa and headed for the door. Without looking through the privacy window, she whipped open the door and focused in on the man who filled the doorway.

  After a moment or so, Mick’s lashes fluttered close over her eyes. “Quest,” she groaned and rested her head against the doorjamb.

  The cool smile Quest wore faded, as it was replaced by a look of concern. “Are you okay?” he inquired softly.

  “I’m so sorry,” she tried desperately to keep her eyes open. Her legs weakened then and she would have fallen flat on her face again had it not been for Quest, who took her in his arms and carried her to the sofa.

  “I don’t know why I did that,” she rested back against the arm of the sofa while she stared at the coffee table.

  Quest’s gray eyes narrowed and he turned his head toward the direction she looked. A knowing smile crossed his mouth when he glimpsed the cooler with remnants of OJ in the bottom. “Hmm...orange juice and...vodka, I take it?”

  Mick closed her eyes. “Mmm…” she confirmed.

  “One?”

  “Two.”

  He chuckled, sparking the dimple in his left cheek. In an absent manner, he tugged the curls away from her chocolate face that was relaxed in drowsiness. “Can’t hold your liquor, hmm?”

  “Can’t hold any,” Mick massaged her temples before sliding both hands through her curls. “It puts me completely out of it and I say things-crazy things-before I fall asleep. So excuse me if I make a fool of myself. After Quay’s call, I just wanted to relax. I’d only planned on one drink but…” she grunted. “Oh Quest, I’m sorry.”

  “Hey, hey, shh…” he leaned forward to pat her knee. “You should get some sleep.”

  “No, I don’t want to miss our dinner date,” she pouted, folding her arms across her chest. “I was really looking forward to it.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” Quest ordered, moving to pull her into his arms again. “Right now I’m taking you to bed.”

  Mick’s eyelids grew heavy and she smiled, moaning the first thing that came to mind. “It’s so sad that you’re saying that to me because I’m about to pass out.”

  Quest knew she was out of it and chuckled as he lifted her close. Mick’s eyes closed, her head falling to one side as she lost consciousness. Quest simply held her for a time, staring down into her face. His intense gray stare caressed every nuance. Her features were relaxed and trusting as her head rested against his tan linen shirt. Quest faced an acknowledgement and it stunned him. In the day and a half that he’d known her, h
e’d become hooked and it was just that simple. Yes, she was lovely, luscious and completely alluring, but she was also the sort of woman who intrigued him. He presumed there were things in her past- unpleasant things- that had formed her into the woman he assumed she was: no-nonsense, focused and dedicated. He’d give anything to hear her story and believed he’d give more to keep her with him.

  Quest shook his head as though to clear it. The depth of his feelings came as a total shock. After all, as he’d acknowledged, he’d only known her a day and a half- if that. This couldn’t be more than physical attraction, could it?

  Mick stirred a bit, grimacing as she snuggled her head against his chest in search of a more comfortable position. Quest ceased his contemplating and carried her up the short staircase to the bedroom suite. After laying her down, he debated upon whether he should relieve her of the snug pink tee and form fitting pants. He decided against it, knowing he’d never make it out of the room if he saw any more of her body. He tugged an afghan from the foot of the bed and covered her prone form.

  “Quest?” Mick croaked, feeling him moving away.

  “I’ll be here when you wake up,” he promised watching her closely for only a second longer before he left the room.

  ~~~

  Mick shuffled from the bedroom two hours later, following the sounds of the TV that led her back into the living room. She walked in and took a seat on the sofa before Quest had the chance to stand.

  “How do you feel?” he asked, after shutting off the television.

  Mick produced a weary, yet serene smile. “Not like I’m about to pass out,” she told him.

  “Good,” he chuckled the word.

  Mick’s look turned apologetic as she opened her mouth to put that expression into words.

  Quest raised his hand before she could utter a word. “I don’t want to hear the word ‘sorry’ again.”

  “But your entire evening’s been shot to hell.”

  “I wouldn’t say that.”

  Clearly, she didn’t believe him. “You could’ve stayed at home and watched television,” she pointed out.

  “True,” Quest conceded with a nod. “But I couldn’t look around and find a woman strolling into my living room, could I?”

  “I don’t know,” Mick sighed, shrugging lazily as her brows rose a notch higher. “From what I’ve heard, you have no problems in that area.”

  “From what you’ve heard?”

  “Mmm-hmm, your staff- the women especially- have nothing but the sweetest things to say about their boss,” she said in a teasing tone.

  Quest’s smile sparked his dimple. “What sort of things?” he inquired while leaning forward to clasp his hands together.

  Mick couldn’t help but laugh over his curiosity. “I won’t betray confidences except to say that they’re all a little in love with you.”

  Laughing softly, Quest looked down and appeared every bit the shy little boy. “I swear to you I’ve never slept with any of them.”

  “Mmm...and does that go for your other half?”

  “Ha! I’ve never slept with any of them,” Quest emphasized, knowing his brother’s sexual escapades were legend. He cleared his throat once the laughter quieted a bit. “We should order,” he suggested.

  Mick’s spirits sank when she saw him reaching for one of the restaurant menus. “Room service,” she lamented.

  Quest ignored her tone. “Here. You order,” he decided and passed her the card.

  Mick sat fidgeting with the menu. Her eyes were riveted on Quest. You should leave tomorrow on that plane with County, a voice warned and she silently agreed. Quest Ramsey was too...mmm. She truly believed that all he had to do was snap his fingers and her panties would come tumbling down. Then she’d be done for. Both mentally drawn to him and physically dazzled.

  ~~~

  Following a hearty Italian feast, both Quest and Michaela were patting their stomachs in satisfaction.

  “It’s been a while since I’ve had a meal at the Sorenson.” Quest said.

  “So you visit their restaurants during business meetings, huh?”

  Quest shrugged, his eyes narrowing devilishly. “I wouldn’t exactly call them business meetings.”

  Mick figured as much. “I got it,” she said and then gave a long lazy stretch. “We didn’t do much talking once the food arrived,” she pointed out when she noticed him staring.

  “No problem,” he was still appreciating the stretch she’d given. “It wasn’t much different from most of my dates,” he confided while silently thinking of how he had no real desire to talk with most of the women he took out. They were pretty easy to peg after the first fifteen or twenty minutes- if that long.

  “I’m sorry it was such a boring night,” Mick whispered as though sensing his thoughts.

  Quest blinked and fixed her with an intent stare. “No Michaela, I didn’t mean it the way it sounded,” he said, pressing one hand to his chest. “This was one of the best dates I’ve ever had.”

  “Mmm-hmm. I don’t believe you, but thank you.”

  “I swear to you it’s true,” he returned, his gorgeous gray eyes fixed and unwavering. And it was true. He’d talked with Mick enough to know she could hold his interest talking about toenails let alone anything more worthy. The silence during dinner wasn’t strained. It was easy and he enjoyed every minute. This date wasn’t just one of the best, it was the best. He knew she’d really think he was full of it if he told her that.

  Mick took a deep breath, tugging on her lower lip as though she were debating. “Quest? May I ask you something,” she said finally.

  His gaze remained fixed. “You can ask me anything.”

  “Um,” Mick looked down in her lap and cleared her throat. “Why didn’t you come out during the meeting? I mean, you were there and-why did you stay away?”

  The muscle worked along the curve of his jaw when he heard her question. A question he had no answer to-not an answer he wanted to share anyway. Michaela Sellars had captivated him from the moment he saw her. He knew if he’d joined her and Quaysar during the meeting, he’d have spent the better portion of his time staring at her. He’d wanted the opportunity to do that alone without having to participate in a conversation he had no interest in.

  “I don’t know why I stayed back,” he told her at last, running an index finger along the perfect crease in his navy trousers, “but I’d like to make it up if you’ll let me.”

  If possible, Mick’s eyes sparkled more vibrantly. “How?”

  “Let me take you out?”

  Mick smiled. “Again?” she teased.

  “Outside the hotel.”

  “Definitely.”

  Satisfied, Quest nodded before fixing Mick with a look that said he should be going.

  She stood and watched him follow suit. She was about to pass the sofa when his hand cupped her elbow. She turned, sighed as though she was preparing herself.

  He simply tugged her close. Mick stood on her toes, her eyes focused on his heavenly mouth when he dipped his head. Her eyes grew wide and she studied his face up close before her lashes drifted shut.

  Her lips parted in eager anticipation, but Quest merely applied soft kisses to her mouth in rapid succession. Each time, Mick arched closer, her lips parting further in a quiet plea for him to cease his torment.

  Moments away from moaning her need, she brushed her fingers against his neck and sought to bring him closer. Quest’s hands remained curved around her elbows, flexing slightly as he added more pressure to the kiss. His tongue thrust lightly- still teasingly so. Briefly, he stroked the roof of her mouth, the ridge of her teeth. A brief smile flashed on his face when he heard the helpless cry lilt from her throat. His hands moved from her arms to cup her face. His thumbs began a sensuous assault on the soft skin below her earlobes.

  “Mmm…” She whimpered, when his tongue rotated around hers, caressing in the same manner as his thumbs were caressing her skin with slow sweeping circles. Her next gasp caught on anot
her helpless cry and her legs weakened. Quest never broke the kiss and allowed her to take refuge on the arm of the sofa. He followed her down, his big hands fisted against the chair on either side of her.

  Mick toyed with the buttons on his shirt, before her fingers curled weakly into the neckline. Aside from her lips, she could feel no other part of her body. She mimicked the lazy strokes of his tongue and knew she could have kissed him forever. She found herself praying as hard for the kiss to go on as she did for it to end.

  Just don’t let him snap his fingers. The panties will surely come tumbling down…

  He kissed as though he were making love to her mouth and as though he had no intention of stopping. When he would have pulled away, Mick uttered a smothered cry of disagreement. In a spontaneous gesture, her teeth fastened to his lower lip and a jolt of power surged through her when he grunted his satisfaction.

  Finally, Quest returned his hands to her arms squeezing firmly while breaking the kiss. “Tomorrow at seven?” he suggested, pressing his forehead to hers and taking deep breaths.

  Mick nodded. “I’ll be ready...and sober,” she promised, her breathing just as strained.

  Quest grinned. “Good night,” he whispered applying a lingering kiss to the mole at the corner of her mouth before he walked away.

  She sat there with one hand curved over her mouth. Her fingers massaged her throbbing lips as she watched him go. She realized that finally she understood what the phrase ‘thoroughly kissed’ meant.

  The ring of the phone shattered the dream and Mick reluctantly blinked herself back to reality. Stiffly, she moved off the sofa and made her way to the message desk.

  “Michaela Sellars,” she greeted in her softest tone.

  “Ms. Sellars, Houston Ramsey.”

  The curt, businesslike voice on the line quickly snapped Mick from her spell. “Mr. Ramsey,” she greeted.

  “Forgive the hour, Ms. Sellars. I’d planned to contact you earlier today.”

  “Uh no, that-that’s quite alright,” Mick assured him, tousling her hair as she began to pace the living room. “What can I do for you?”

 

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