Sniffling loudly, Mel refused to set the page aside and collect her emotions. Instead, she continued to read the words that she knew by heart.
I’ve grown accustomed to this life, I actually love it. I know it sickens you to hear me say I love prostituting myself, But Mel, I don’t see it that way. The men I’ve met have been such gentlemen. Some only want companionship and a friend to talk to-a shoulder to cry on. Others…well, others want deeper communication, but as I said they’re all such gentlemen, I feel like a queen every time. Melina please don’t ruin this for me. What’s happened has happened and there’s no going back. This has been my life for over eight years. If you betray this my life could very well be over.
Please do what you’re told. Tell no one I’ve contacted you and please stay away from Yohan. My life depends on the way you live your life. I’m so very sorry.
All my love, Zara.
The letter slipped from Mel’s hand and drifted to the floor. She began to cry with no thought of who might overhear her wailing. The tears flowed more heavily than usual that day and reminded her of the first time she’d ever set eyes upon the powerful message.
So much more drove her tears now. It was the first time she’d read her cousin’s words since she’d returned to Seattle-returned to Yohan.
Zara’s letter arrived a few months after Melina had left Seattle. Melina recalled how stunned and unnerved she’d been to realize anyone knew where she was. She’d been careful for the most part, hadn’t she? Or perhaps not. After all, Yohan had discovered where she was. While she was certain her uncle would inform no one else; someone sent her that letter. Perhaps it’d been the same someone who took her cousin.
When Zara’s letter arrived, it dashed any and all possibility of Melina returning to Yohan then. It was Mel’s greatest regret and the one thing she desperately wanted to correct. She’d had every intention of doing that until the note appeared so mysteriously. It had been left inside the PO Box she’d been renting, until she’d gotten settled. She’d only obtained the box for hopeful correspondence from the numerous job applications she’d completed.
Melina reclined in her desk chair and fiddled with the cuff of the petal pink blouse she wore. She recalled the day so vividly. It was as though someone had simply placed the note inside without it ever going through normal postal procedures. It was a simple white envelope with only her name on the front.
Inside, however, were words and instructions so damaging they’d ruled her life right into the present. As painful as it had been to walk away from the only man she’d ever loved, that hadn’t been the worst of it. Seeing him again, knowing the feelings were still there and as powerful as they had ever been, seemed to increase her pain ten-fold.
Melina jumped when the phone’s intercom line buzzed. Smoothing her chilled hands across the front of the chamois bow pants she wore, Mel quickly reigned in her emotions.
“Yeah Kate?” she answered, a few seconds following the initial ring.
“Melina you have a guest out front.”
“I’m sorry,” Mel started, brushing the stray moisture of tears from her cheeks. “I didn’t realize I was due for an appointment.”
“Oh no Mel, the gentleman says he wasn’t expected,” Kate informed her softly.
Mel knew who her unexpected guest was then. Her heart thudded a singular powerful beat which caused her hand to weaken over the phone.
“Would you ask him to come on back?” Mel instructed her assistant, and then stood from her desk. She let out a long, deep breath before squaring her shoulders and heading for the door.
Finding Yohan in the office lobby brought a sweet smile to her face. As he crossed the room, Mel’s smile faded a bit while she took in all the downright wanton female stares that followed him.
“Hey,” she whispered, waving him inside the office. The door closed on the lingering gazes with far more force than was needed.
Yohan turned mid-stride taking Melina in an unbreakable hold. She gasped, allowing him the entrance he sought. His tongue thrust deep and possessively. Thankfully, his embrace was firm, for Mel had no strength left to stand. She tingled from head to toe and emitted soft, helpless whimpers of need as her tongue rolled leisurely and erotically around his. Her hands settled to his chest and she arched closer, deepening the kiss while emitting soft, helpless whimpers into his mouth.
“Come with me,” he asked, still kissing her thoroughly. His tongue thrust longer and harder with every second that passed.
“Mmm…” she responded, wanting so very much to follow him anywhere he wished.
“Is that a yes?” he queried, filling his hands with ample portions of her cleavage. “Mel?” he called, nibbling at her earlobe.
“Mmm…no, no,” she managed, trying to fight the strong urge to say yes. “No Yohan, I have to work. This showing-“
“It can wait,” he decided, trailing his lips across her brow, along the curve of her cheek…
“Han,” she said with a bit more force then. Pushing him away; far as he’d allow, she fixed him with an incredulous look. “Why are you doing this?”
“What?” he asked, appearing confused, “wanting to sleep with my wife?”
Melina sighed and shook her head. “I’ve been your wife in name only for eight years.”
“Exactly why I want you in my bed. Now,” he teased, pulling her closer. “What?” he asked again when her expression remained solemn.
“This has all been so much aggravation-aggravation neither of us need. Especially you,” she said, searching the gorgeous onyx depths of his eyes. “Clearly, any woman would kill to have you,” she said, grazing his dimpled chin with her thumbnail.
Yohan’s shrug was almost nonexistent. “What exactly do you expect me to say to that Mel?”
“You act as if you don’t see the way women drool over you when you walk past them,” she accused in an incredulous tone. “You’re gonna be the talk of this building for the rest of the week,” she predicted and pulled away from him.
Yohan grinned, stroking his jaw as he turned to watch her at the windows. “So is this your sly way of asking how many women I’ve slept with over the last eight years?”
Mel slanted him a tired glance. “Don’t be stupid,” she muttered.
“Because I’ll have you know that I reserve the right to ask the same of you.”
This time, Melina turned to face her husband more fully. “I haven’t slept with any women over the last eight years,” she informed him playfully and leaned back against the window.
Yohan’s grinned intensified, while he folded his arms across the short-sleeved driftwood colored shirt. Melina commanded herself not to gawk at the display of his forearms and biceps glistening dark and powerful.
“I really don’t want to know how many women there’ve been,” she said, clearing her throat when her voice shook over the last few words. “Anyway, that’s not what this is about,” she grumbled.
“You’re right, this is about my father.” Yohan pointed out, his playful demeanor sobering into intensity.
Mel seemed to wilt at the observation. Of course, her husband immediately noticed her reaction.
“Dammit Mel,” he hissed, folding his hands over the back of one of the chairs before her desk. “What the hell is it? What aren’t you telling me?” he demanded, silently acknowledging that she was terrifying him by her behavior. He shrugged, forcing himself to use a different tactic.
“Maybe it’s nothing,” he said, pushing one hand into a pocket on his beige trousers. “Maybe you just wanted to leave back then, simple as that. Maybe you figured using Marc as the reason would make it easier or justified somehow.”
“No!” Mel whispered fiercely, her slanting ebony stare filled with rage.
Yohan was just as enraged, when he turned to face her. “Then this has to end. After eight years this has to end,” he said, pointing his index finger in her direction. Quickly, he curved his hand into a fist and banged it against his thigh. His temper was
heating slowly, but definitely to that point of no restraint. The anger rose as much from the fear he saw on her face as from the fact that his father was at the root of it all. He bowed his head, brushing his thumb across the sleek line of his brow and debated. He should go, right then before he said or did something they’d both be sorry for.
Relief flooded Melina’s body when the phone rang, interrupting the heavy tension. She practically ran to answer it, desperate to be rid of Yohan’s suddenly disturbing presence.
“This is Melina,” she greeted breathlessly,
“Hello Love, this is Crane.”
An indecipherable sound passed her lips and she sank into her desk chair. She knew her voice had deserted her and she hadn’t even tried to say another word.
“Melina?” Crane called, when seconds of silence passed.
“Hi,” was all she could manage.
“Are you alright? Did I interrupt you?” he was asking.
Yohan’s incessant staring mixed with Crane’s voice on the phone, was a recipe for total unrest. Mel just managed to hold onto the phone.
“No,” she cleared her throat, “no I’m fine.”
“I’m only calling to find out how things are progressing?”
“Everything’s on schedule,” she said, her voice becoming more firm, “the gallery show should be quite a success,” she said, knowing full well that wasn’t what he was referring to.
Crane was silent for a moment. “So I take it there’s nothing more to report?”
Mel shook her head and stood. “No, but I’ll keep you posted.”
“Mel-“
“I’m sorry it’s just that I’m about to be late for an appointment so…”
“I see,” Crane whispered, disappointment filling his soft voice. “Alright, well I’ll let you go and we’ll talk soon?”
“Mmm mmm,” Mel confirmed quickly and set the receiver back to its cradle.
Yohan kept his gaze hooded and smirked when Mel ended the call.
“My boss,” she saw fit to inform him.
“You two must be really close,” he observed coolly while his fist remained hidden in his pocket.
The comment brought a curious frown to Mel’s face. Folding her arms across her chest, she waited for him to clarify.
“He must really trust you,” Yohan continued, loving the confusion in her captivating eyes.
Mel stood. “He does, but…why would you say that?”
What would she say if he told her he’d seen her with him? That he’d been dropping in on her for the better part of her eight years in Memphis. He wasn’t ready to go into that. He wasn’t ready to hear what she might say.
“This is one of Seattle’s finest galleries,” he said, waving his hand in the air for emphasis. “Your…boss must really trust you to leave it in your care.”
“That’s got little to do with trust,” she said, reaching for a folder on her desk, “I’m just damn good at my job,” she boasted wearily.
Nodding, his deep set eyes raked her figure a second longer. “I’ll take that as my cue to leave, then,” he said when she slanted him a look. “What time should I expect you at the house tonight?”
Mel gasped, hearing the comment clearly in spite of the fact that he called it across his shoulder. “You-you want me to…come to the house?” she asked, stunned he wanted to see her at the home they once shared.
His hand on the door lever, Yohan turned and regarded her curiously. “Yeah, why?”
The contents of the folder she held spilled to the floor. Her hands were shaking terribly. “Han, I-I don’t know if that’s-“
“Would you prefer me to come get you?” he asked, his baritone voice holding a softness that was more unsettling than soothing.
Mel knew she couldn’t refuse the invitation. No wonder he stopped earlier, he had something far more explicit already planned for that evening. “I um, I should be there by seven,” she promised quietly.
“Cheer up,” he urged. The arrogant expression on his dark, handsome face made it abundantly clear that he knew exactly what had her on edge. “I promise you’ll enjoy yourself,” he said and left without a backwards glance.
Mel knew the implication of his words would’ve pulled a moan from her throat if she could have found her voice. Instead, she sank back into her desk chair and held the back of her hand against her forehead.
***
Chicago, Illinois
“Don’t stop yet.”
“The doorbell’s ringing.”
“Let it ring.”
Contessa laughed. She pushed herself from beneath the covers where she’d been using certain skills to awaken the gorgeous giant who’d been sleeping in her bed. With a wicked look on her face, she sank her teeth into his broad, muscular chest and squealed when he swatted her bottom.
“I promise I’ll be right back,” she whispered sitting astride him then.
“Just five minutes,” he begged, his massive hands curving around her hips.
County shrieked. She barely managed to wriggle free of his grasp before he settled her to his erect arousal. “Be good,” she ordered, once she stood at the foot of the bed. Grabbing his night shirt from the floor, she headed out to answer the ring.
She’d ordered out for breakfast as a surprise and figured it was the delivery. When she whipped open the door, nothing prepared her to find Stefan Lyons standing on the other side.
Stunned speechless, she couldn’t respond with all the unwelcome greetings that flooded her mind. Stefan decided to take her silence as an invitation to enter.
“Contessa,” he breathed, his eyes raking her scanty attire.
“Mr. Lyons,” she managed coldly.
He made a tsking sound as he smiled. “So formal. Don’t tell me you don’t recall our meeting?”
County rolled her eyes. “I’m trying to forget it,” she sneered.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, advancing a step or two.
County muttered a curse when she backed away. She’d be damned if she’d let him rile her in her own home.
Stefan’s leering gaze was becoming bolder as it focused on her bosom. “I take it from your appearance, Fern isn’t too far away?” His smile widened. “Or am I mistaken?”
“What the hell do you want?” she demanded.
Stef shrugged. “I have a delivery for him.”
County shook her head. “And you came all the way to Chicago to hand deliver it? Must be mighty important.”
“It’s a last minute invite,” Stefan shared, still moving closer to Contessa, “I wanted to be sure he got it ASAP. But if he’s not…in,” he punctuated the remark by curving his hand around a generous portion of her derriere, “I can try elsewhere,” he added his fingers and massaged just slightly.
Stunned and wary, County caught her breath and practically flew from the room. All the while, she cursed herself for not slapping the grin from his face. She was still trying to catch her breath when she made it back to her bedroom.
Fernando was chuckling at the sight she made, until something told him she was truly upset. Contessa couldn’t mask her unease and didn’t notice Fernando watching her closely while he pulled on his sleep pants. When she moved past him, he took her arm and felt her jerk in response.
“Are you alright?” he whispered.
Running a shaking hand across her cropped cut, she managed a nod. “Your partner is um, he’s out front.”
“Stef? What the hell for?”
County shrugged. “I don’t know, he said he had something for you.”
Fernando’s hold on her arm tightened when she tried to move on. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, yes Fernando I’m fine. I just don’t like having that man in my house,” she muttered.
Fernando watched her a while longer, his brows drawn close in concentration. Then, he leaned in to plant a kiss to her temple before heading out of the room.
When the door shut behind, Contessa expelled the breath she’d been holding
. Hugging herself, she sat on the edge of the bed.
~~~
“What the hell are you doin’ here?” Fernando demanded, finding his partner in the living room browsing the book shelves.
“Fern,” Stef called, clearly taking no offense to the hostile greeting he received. “Hope you can make it,” he said, passing Fernando a small envelope.
“The Sharpe Club?” Fernando noted when he saw the establishment’s logo.
Stef grinned proudly, “I know you have to be a member to even stick your head in the place and well…”
Fernando shrugged. “So what? You announcing your membership or something?” he guessed in a weary tone.
Stefan grinned. “It’s a little more than that, brotha. Hope you can make it.”
“Don’t come here again, man,” Fernando advised, tossing aside the envelope.
“Why?” Stef retorted with a look of phony innocence.
“Because she doesn’t like it and neither do I.”
“Easy, big Fern,” Stefan soothed, his hands raised defensively. “Damn man,” he chuckled, glancing towards the rear of the living room. “She must be a damn good piece of ass to have you so possess-“
Fernando’s massive hand encircled Stef’s neck before the man could complete the sentence. Without a word, Fernando literally pushed him out into the hall.
When the door slammed in Stef’s face, he leaned against the wall; coughing to catch his breath. He cast a murderous glance at the door and then continued on down the hall.
CHAPTER SIX
“Child!” Rita Hotchkiss’ cry of delight filled the foyer when she opened the door to Melina later that afternoon. The Ramsey housekeeper had always felt a special closeness towards Marcus and Josephine’s only daughter-in-law.
“Rita,” Mel sighed, pulling the woman into a close embrace. “It’s so good to see you.”
Rita closed her eyes and relished the hug. “Same here love. Same here. How long will you be here in Seattle?” she asked, once they’d pulled apart.
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