Melina’s lashes fluttered, her dark skin appeared ashen and she looked faint. “Has it been that long?” she breathed, clutching the lapels of his saddle colored suit coat.
Yohan could see she was on the verge of tears and soothed her with hushed words of encouragement. The tears arrived anyway and he hugged her tightly. Again, silence filled the room.
***
Josephine willed her hands to stop shaking when she opened the door to Crane Cannon. Though the years had matured both their features, Josephine could see the man she’d loved in the dark depths of his eyes. They drew close in an instant-apologizing and trying to explain their actions in unison.
“Why don’t we go inside?” Crane asked, after they’d dissolved into laughter.
Josephine nodded, fiddling with the gold chains adorning her neck. “We’ll be alone,” she assured and stepped from the door.
“If it hadn’t been for Melina…” Crane noted his dark gaze intense as it devoured Josephine.
Josephine shook her head. “She’s an incredible woman.”
“I’ve always loved her like she was my own.”
“Hmph, so have I.”
“She told me about Johnelle, but I can’t recall ever telling you about her. Did you meet her when Sera died?” Crane asked.
Josephine felt chilled, but she wasn’t about to succumb to another moment of cowardice. “At first, my interest in you was about revenge,” she confessed and waved him into the spacious living room. “Revenge against Marc. My husband and your wife were having an affair long before I ever met you. I followed him to your home, saw them together many times when you were away.”
Crane drew a hand through his dark hair, but didn’t appear overly surprised. “I let go of my suspicions once Sera came.”
“I believe Sera was the reason Marc stayed away. Oh Crane, why didn’t you come back when she died?” Josephine sobbed.
Crane was just as distraught. “I wanted to, but a part of me died with Sera. I raised her like she was my own and I was ashamed for leaving,” he raised his hands helplessly. “I wasn’t there to protect her when she needed me most. What sort of father did that make me Josie?” he asked his dark eyes red with tears.
“Shh…” Josephine urged, closing the distance between them. “Don’t do this. Don’t chastise yourself so harshly. Especially when her real father watched her be raped and murdered and did nothing.”
Crane frowned, his confusion evident.
“Marc was her father.”
“What?” Crane murmured, seeming to wilt. “He-he knew?”
“Yes?”
“And he let his brother-“
“Yes.”
Crane folded his hand over his mouth, looking as if he might be sick. When he closed his mouth and began to shudder, Josephine drew him close and began to rock him.
“It’s over Crane, it’s over and everything’s out in the open. I helped see to that.”
“What do you mean?”
“I visited Johnelle when Sera died. When Johnelle left the room I happened upon a diary that belonged to Sera. I held onto it until I found someone I was certain wouldn’t be swayed by Ramsey money or promises-my nephew’s wife Michaela.” She nodded, a confident smile brightening her lovely honey toned face. “That bastard Marc will soon be joining his brother in a cell and from there, the gas chamber.”
Crane and Josephine hugged, attempting to ward off their grief and pain with closeness. They never saw Marcus-who watched them from the doorway.
***
“Do you realize what Quest will do when he finds out about this?”
“He won’t find out.”
“Mick-“
“I’ll write under a pen name,” Mick argued, fixing her friend with a stubborn glare. “Come on County,” she urged, having started in heavily on Contessa the moment Ty, Mel and Yohan left the room.
County, however, was clearly not wanting to come on. She eyed her friend curiously, crossing her trouser clad legs as she reclined in the bedside armchair. “What’s goin’ on here Mick? I mean, why are you really so obsessed with this? And don’t you dare say because of Sera and her mother and how much their relationship touched your heart,” she drawled, placing a hand across her chest. “There’s more. Spill it.”
Michaela sent County a scathing look, and then rolled her eyes toward the floral arrangement painting on the far wall. “I hate Marc. I hate him so much I sometimes feel the bile in the back of my throat when I hear his name,” she admitted, her voice taking on a strange hollow tone. “The son of a bitch almost robbed me of a relationship with Quest.
I overheard him with Quest that day at the cabin…telling him to forget the Ramseys if he chose to be with me. I wanted to give up on us because it was so important to me that he not lose touch with his family. If Quest hadn’t fought for us, Quincee would’ve never been.”
“Oh Mick,” County breathed, moving off the chair to hug her friend. “Sweetie, don’t you see? Marc didn’t win. You and Quest are happy. You’ve got a real live baby doll to raise. Your life is wonderful. Let someone else worry about bringing down that jackass. You’ve done enough.”
Mick said nothing more and she didn’t have to. County knew she was wasting her time trying to change her mind and muttered a vicious curse. “This better be a damn good pen name,” she grumbled, snatching her cell phone off the window sill. “Spivey?” she said once the connection was made. “It’s County-yes yes I’ll be back soon. Look, I’ve got news. The Ramsey book? We have our author.”
***
Arm in arm, Melina and Yohan strolled the distance from the maternity ward to the elevator bay. While waiting for the car to arrive, Mel leaned against the wall. Head bowed, she appeared as though all the fight had left her. She dragged herself into the elevator when it arrived and slumped against the mahogany paneling.
Yohan stepped over, one hand pushed into his trouser pocket. “You okay?” he asked her.
Mel could only shake her head at first. “Zara, Sera…how many others were there, Yohan?”
“Don’t do this,” he urged, pulling her close to hide his handsome face in the fragrant cloud of her hair. His concern mounted when she just lay lifeless in his arms. Pulling away, he gave her a small shake. “Don’t let Marc defeat you too.”
The words sparked life in Mel and she nodded. She stood on her toes, intending to thank him with a quick peck to his jaw. Yohan had other ideas and dipped his head to capture her mouth in a more thorough kiss.
A tiny whimper escaped her throat and Mel could feel herself falling deep into the spell of the kiss. She felt his powerful hands caressing and kneading her back through the material of the pink grapefruit tube jumpsuit she sported. When his thumbs grazed her nipples she forced herself to pull away. The elevator doors slide open before Yohan could reach for her.
“Meet me at the house,” he said, guiding her to the parking deck elevators.
“I um really need to get a move on. The gallery show is tonight, remember?”
“You can spare me a few minutes, can’t you?”
“Han, I really-“
“Please Mel,” he said, stopping to turn her toward him.
Mel closed her eyes. “Yohan…I just can’t-I’m not up for any more emotional moments now.”
Yohan’s dark eyes narrowed with playful intensity. “Please, Meli,” he whispered, moving closer to kiss the pulse point below her ear. “Please,” his voice was a soft rumbling.
Mel arched into the brush of his mouth across her earlobe. “Only for a few minutes,” she agreed, her lashes fluttering madly amidst the soothing pressure of his lips.
“I’ll see you there,” he said, smiling down and watching as she made her way to the elevator that would carry her to the level she’d parked on.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Melina hesitated, not wanting to leave her car when she arrived home. Home? She’d so wanted it to be home again. But her relationship-her marriage to Yohan was a tie best ended. Sh
e swallowed and left the Acura she’d parked haphazardly next to Yohan’s Expedition. Using her key, she entered and found the house almost totally dark.
“Han? Yohan? It’s Mel.”
Clearing her throat to ward off the onset of a bout of nervousness, Mel ventured deeper into the house. She found Yohan waiting for her in the den just off from the foyer. Awkwardly slow, she stepped into the room and waited. After a few seconds, Yohan pushed himself from his perch on the arm of the sofa and stood. Mel frowned when he took her by the hand and led her from the den.
“Han?” Mel queried, as the ascended the hardwood staircase. She wasn’t very surprised when no response met her greeting.
Yohan led her past the hall of guest bedrooms and Mel began to resist his hold; realizing they were heading towards the master bedroom suite.
“No-Yohan no. Please, I-” she quieted when his steps halted.
At the room door, Yohan let go of Mel’s hand. “You can either walk in or I’ll carry you in,” he promised.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked, her hands extended. He stepped toward her and she waved her hands. “Okay,” she whispered and preceded him into the room she’d not set foot in eight years.
Chills slammed her body when she crossed the threshold. Silently, she praised the fact that he’d redecorated. Clearly, this was a man’s room now-from the burgundy, blue and navy color scheme to the bulky, hand-crafted pine furniture. Although ruggedly beautiful, Melina didn’t know whether the changes set her more or less on edge.
The door closed and she whirled around to face him. She twisted her hands nervously.
“Yohan-“
“Do you really think I’d stand by and do nothing while you leave me again?”
“Yohan…I didn’t, didn’t we settle this?”
“Hell no we didn’t,” Yohan breathed, his features drawn tight with frustration. “How could you think I’m only reminded of everything bad when I look at you?”
Mel shook her head. “Everything that’s happened-everything I told you-“
“I’m still waiting to hear how that brought you to this stupid conclusion.”
“Dammit Yohan!” Melina hissed, losing her temper at something she felt he should’ve easily understood. “I stood down there in that gym and went through this with you. You sat right there and didn’t say a thing to dispute me-or weren’t you listening?”
“I was listening,” Yohan admitted with a grimace. “I should’ve told you. You were talking like a fool then, but other things were on my mind,” he said, walking towards her as he spoke.
Mel was completely clueless, even when he’d closed the space separating them and brought his hands to the buttons at the front of the halter blouse.
“Do you love me?”
Her chills resurfaced again, this time in response to the raspy intensity of his deep voice when he spoke the question. “Yes I do. You know I do,” she told him,
Yohan’s ebony gaze was focused on undoing her shirt. “Then wherever you go, I’ll be there. I’ll be right there Meli,” he promised, bringing his gaze to her face. “You won’t get rid of me. Have me arrested for stalking and I won’t care. I’ve existed in a prison for the last eight years. I can’t exist anymore. I want to live.”
“Han-“
“I need you,” he said, while pulling her into his massive, unyielding frame.
A moan escaped her lips when she felt the true potency of his words pressing against her abdomen. Her head fell to his chest.
“I don’t want to leave,” she sobbed.
“Then stay…stay,” he urged softly, sliding his mouth from her temple to the satiny curve of her jaw. He continued to pronounce the word, keeping her attention dually focused on the allure of his words and the pleasure stirring as he finished unbuttoning her blouse.
Mel raised her head, her slanting dark gaze fixed on her husband’s incredible face. His fantastic features were blurred as tears continued to pool her eyes. For the first time, they weren’t tears of sadness, fear or doubt they were tears of happiness. They were tears that spoke volumes; saying the future had arrived and it was good-she had Yohan by her side.
His thumbs were brushing her nipples, turning them firm with desire. The sounds of labored breathing and intermitted cries of satisfaction filled their bedroom. Mel raked her nails across the rippling chords in his muscular forearms, before the need to feel more intervened.
As Yohan had done to her earlier, she now unbuttoned his shirt-aching to see and feel the sleek dark expanse of his chest. She pulled her lower lip between her teeth when he was bared to her sight. The tell-tale tingling within her womanhood grew more insistent-the image of him aroused her so. Knowing that he loved her-wanted her always, fueled her arousal to a fiery pitch.
Yohan tossed away her shirt long ago. Now, he was working on the fastening of her pants. When they were undone, he tugged them just a bit past her hips and insinuated his hand inside the lacy white panties. Mel threw back her head and moaned again, arching herself just a bit-desperate to feel every inch of his middle finger as it delved and rotated inside her. Her fingers grew weak against his chest as a wave of moisture signaled her delight. Yohan captured her earlobe between his perfect teeth and bit down softly, smiling when she uttered a playful shriek.
Melina was thrusting against the lunges of his middle and index fingers. She was desperate to feel every ounce of sensation available to her. Eventually she pulled her trousers further past her hips allowing him more room to explore. Yohan disappointed her then, removing his fingers from their erotic locale. Her bra fell to the carpet, meeting the pool made by her trousers, panties and sandals. Easily, he lifted Melina from the pool of clothing, trailing kisses along her neck and collarbone, across her chest and the undersides of her breasts.
Mel curved her nails in to the sinewy expanse of ebony skin stretched across his shoulders. She felt herself being carried and gasped when crisp linens touched her back. Her eyes opened and, for a time, she gazed in awe at the bed.
“You didn’t change it,” she noted, upon realizing it was the bed they’d bought the day they moved into their home.
Yohan’s darkly gorgeous face was buried in the fragrant crook of his wife’s neck. “Keeping it was the only way I could sleep in here.”
His muffled reply rang clear in her ears. Her heart soared and she literally moaned at the pleasure his words provided. “I love you,” she gasped.
Yohan cupped her thighs in his powerful grip and settled himself between their satiny length. He plunged down, his cry mingling with hers; as the true depth of their lovemaking, encompassed them. “I love you,” he returned, repeating the phrase each time he thrust forward.
Melina draped her shapely legs across his hips, holding tightly to the pillows as she met his thrusts eagerly. At last, she smoothed her palms across his buttocks and forced him deeper inside her.
They climaxed in unison, trying to absorb one another. They were overwrought with desire and love as it swirled in a mixture of reciprocated emotion.
~~~
Much later, Mel had returned to the guest bedroom. She saw that a beautiful white pantsuit had been taken from the closet and she smiled envisioning the alluring contrast the suit would cast against her dark skin. The fitted jacket with its white, snap-front closure allowed for no blouse or other undergarment to be worn with it. The coordinating flare legged pants molded to her hips and bottom adoringly.
While she wouldn’t have chosen quite so provocative attire for the gallery opening, she’d be delighted to wear it. Clearly, her husband had made the selection.
Yohan walked into the room as Mel was choosing a pair of white slide-ins that would add several inches to her height. The moment she set the heels to the floor, she was pulled back against him.
“Can’t wait to see you in this,” he muttered against the nape of her neck.
Mel nestled herself deep within his embrace. “Don’t you think it’s a bit much or…less?” she rephrased,
eyeing the daring cut of the suit coat.
“Mmm mmm,” Yohan disagreed, undoing the tie around her robe. “I want easy access tonight.”
“It’s a gallery opening. We can’t get too crazy,” she warned playfully.
“Speak for yourself.”
“Oh no,” she resisted, when he cupped her breasts, “we need to get ready,” she said and turned to slide her arms about his shoulders. “And you should call Josephine,” she suggested, feeling him tense against her.
Yohan offered no arguments however. His wife was right. A conversation with his mother was long overdue.
Mel stood on her toes and kissed his cheek. “I’m going to the shower. Call your mama,” she ordered.
Yohan watched her head into the adjoining bathroom. He closed his eyes, taking time to say a prayer-thanking God for the unexpected yet overwhelming reunion with his wife. He promised to treasure their second chance with every ounce of strength he possessed.
A moment later, Yohan took a seat on the edge of the bed. Absently, he studied Melina’s jewelry on the nightstand before his dark eyes strayed to the phone. Bracing himself, he took the receiver and dialed his mother’s private line.
“Josephine Ramsey,” she greeted after a second ring.
Yohan cleared his throat. “Hey Ma.”
“Baby,” was the only word Josephine could manage.
The word made him smile and melted some of the edginess that chilled him. “I know everything and I have questions.”
“Yes,” she breathed. “Yes, I know. Can you…come over?”
“I have this gallery opening with Mel-“
“So I’ll see you there?” Josephine suggested in an eager tone.
Yohan nodded. “Sounds good.”
“Yohan I-“ she hesitated momentarily. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” he said, smiling when he heard her relieved sigh.
Josephine held the phone to her chest when the call ended. Then, she turned to Crane who stood across the living room.
“Would you like to meet your son?” she asked.
The Ramseys Boxed Set Page 85
