The Ramseys Boxed Set

by Altonya Washington

  By then, Johari had moved on. She stood looking out over the stream that trickled past the cemetery grounds. Moses debated as he watched her. He knew this would probably be the last time he’d see her. He thought back to when he saw her in London after all those years. She’d slapped him and he couldn’t help but believe this final meeting between them would end with her doing the same. He walked forward until he stood next to Jo. For a time, he also contented himself with watching the stream as she did.

  “I’m sorry for Zara, Twig. But I’m also sorry for doing nothing except hurting you in the name of protection,” he smirked and smoothed a hand across his bald head. “Seems it’s what most of the Ramsey men are good at and I’ve got to be the front runner. I was so obsessed with finding Zara because I wanted you back. I believed it was the only way I could prove I was worthy enough to even speak to you again.”

  Jo’s bright gaze was no focused on Moses as he spoke.

  “Everything that’s happened between us…you losing…the baby and then having to deal with that on your own… Then, I barge back into your life and make you relive that time. Then on top of all that, you lose your sister again and this time…for good.” He turned to face her then. “I had the best intentions Twig and they produced the worst results.” He brushed his knuckles along her cheek before kissing her there. Keeping his hand cupped around her face, his nose grazed her temple. “I swear that I love you Johari. I’ll never stop.” He whispered.

  Jo clutched his wrist when he moved to turn away. “I told myself in Hawaii that if I made it out with my life, I’d tell you that I love you and that losing you again is the very last thing I want. Worst results? Yes, everything we’ve done has had the worst results and I’m so sick of that, aren’t you?”

  “God yes,” Moses breathed, looking a though he were about to faint from the sound of her words. “Are you sure, Twig?” he asked in the most adorable little boy tone of voice.

  Jo tugged on the lapel of his black suit. “More sure than I’ve ever been about anything in my entire life.”

  Moses’ shuddery breath was a mix of relief and joy, but still he had to be certain. “I won’t survive it, if one day you wake up and realize you hate me for the loss of our child and for what happened to Zara.”

  Johari’s expression clouded as if she’d just realized something. “I never did thank you for that, did I? For bringing her back to me? My parents…I saw true happiness in their eyes. Even with all that’s happened, the light is still there for them and for me…she saved my life Ram and she couldn’t have done that if you hadn’t gotten her out of France. On top of all that, I got my sister back as my confidant-as my friend thanks to you,” she shook her head. “I could never hate you for that.” She pressed her lips together then and moved closer to squeeze his hands. “As for our child…that hurt will always be there. For you it’s just beginning. I can’t let you deal with that alone. I love you way too much for that,” she confessed and sniffled past her tears. “I believe love is moving beyond past hurts and looking forward to new joys and making our best intentions have better results.”

  Moses’ dark, long brows drew close and he pressed kisses to the backs of both her hands. He closed her eyes once more, thanking God. Then, he pressed his face into the palms of her hands. “I love you,” he said.

  “I love you,” Johari returned the sentiment while kissing the top of his bald head. Her laughter filled the air when he picked her up and held her captive in an unbreakable hold.

  They stood there in the embrace for countless moments. Their hopes soared then, towards all the beautiful possibilities awaiting them.

  This Ends A Lover’s Worth

  And Now:

  A Lover’s Beauty

  A LOVER’S BEAUTY

  THE RAMSEYS BOOK VI

  FIRST PROLOGUE

  Paris, France~

  Eighteen year old Nile Becquois stood at the gate hoping to summon just a faint misting in her eyes. Tears were a hopeless wish, but her mother seemed to need some sort of emotional display to ease her quiet-her shame over bustling her only daughter off to family-strangers actually-in the States.

  How could one summon tears when glee threatened to burst the heart? Nile wondered, ordering her mouth not to curve into a smile. Her father certainly had no qualms about her leaving, she thought and the faint smile vanished easily. She remembered the way her mother Yvonne practically had to beg the man just to ride along from their home in Nice to the airport. Cufi Muhammad seemed as thrilled to see her leave as Nile was to be leaving.

  Once Yvonne was done speaking with an airline employee at the gate, Nile had at least managed to put a regretful expression in place.

  “Oh honey, don’t be down. You’re going to have the best time.” Yvonne Wilson told her daughter and smoothed her hands along Nile’s arms in a gesture of assurance. “You’re going to see such marvelous things in California.”

  “I know Maman,” Nile whispered, her husky voice laced with the rich accent of her native tongue.

  Yvonne looked down, pressing her lips together. “Baby please try not to hate me for sending you away from the only home you know.”

  “I don’t hate you Maman,” Nile said, allowing just a faint curve to soften her mouth as she looked down at the woman. Her words were true. She didn’t hate Yvonne-not for this. There were far too many other things she had to despise her for. At any rate, Nile saw that her soft admission stoked Yvonne’s tears. She was thankful the job of crying had been taken from her shoulders.

  “And I don’t want you to blame your father for this,” Yvonne urged through a sniffle.

  “Please don’t speak his name to me,” Nile urged as well. Her voice was cold in its softness.

  Yvonne nodded, marveling silently at how very different Nile was-so cold, so removed… “We’re gonna shut it down baby.” She said.

  Nile couldn’t resist rolling her eyes. “I tried to shut it down. I went to the authorities and told them everything about what was going on out there and it’s still going on which tells me they’re in it too-in it to the hilt. Nothing’s going to change because the people with the power to change it have far too much to lose. This is why you’re really sending me away.”

  “No baby, no. You’re safer this way. It’s over baby, I promise you.” Yvonne continued to lie.

  Nile was drained of her arguments and admitted that her mother was as corrupt as her father and everyone else mixed up in the entire sordid scheme. She recognized her mother’s lies about as easily as she recognized the sun rising. Still, she let herself latch on to the tiniest shrivel of hope that it could happen-that in the lie there could be some shred of truth. She let herself believe that the people who had raised her weren’t complete monsters. After all, what would that make her?

  The intercom voice called out then announcing the flight first in French and then in English.

  “Flight 716 now boarding for Los Angeles, California at gate fifteen. Flight 716 now boarding…”

  Yvonne stood on the toes of her navy platform pumps and hugged her daughter. “I’ll call Aunt Reesy and make sure all went well. You can tell me all about your first airplane ride.”

  Nile managed a smile though her pitch stare gave away nothing. Satisfied that her mother was done fawning, she hefted the strap of the carry-on bag across her shoulder.

  Yvonne watched the young woman blend in with the rest of the boarders making their way toward the gate. She blinked as a steady stream of tears blurred her eyes. When Nile disappeared from view, Yvonne dashed away the tears and look up at the terminal’s high ceilings. “Dear God forgive me. Forgive me again.”

  SECOND PROLOGUE

  Becici, Montenegro-13 years later~

  “I don’t even know your name,” He pointed out while trailing his fingers across her temple.

  Her stare searched his in wonder that she was even there with him. She couldn’t resist reaching out to bury her fingers in the thick luxury of his silky crop of hair. “My name
…is that so important?” she asked.

  He leaned closer to kiss her mouth. In some way, he wanted to capture the beauty of her words laced in the heavily erotic tone of French. “We’ve been in bed together for the last two days. I’d say it’s important.”

  She snuggled deeper into the large decadent bed where she lay beneath him. “What would you name me?” She teased, linking her arms about his neck.

  For a time, Taurus Ramsey was speechless while taking in the flawless onyx skin, eyes and hair belonging to the woman he held. She was darkness and light intertwined.

  “Beauty,” He told her simply, his heart thudding with a juvenile intensity when she arched in to kiss him eagerly.

  “And what would you name me?” He asked, once their kiss ended.

  “Beauty,” Nile Becquois answered without hesitation. Her gaze was undeniably flattering in the manner that it wandered across his caramel and cream complexion as her fingertips savored the silk on satin feel of his skin.

  Taurus nuzzled her neck. “I want to keep you,” he spoke into her skin.

  “Keep me.” She repeated.

  “I don’t want to share you.” He clarified, raising his head to fix her with the almost frightening intensity of his champagne gaze.

  Nile’s quick smile sparked the dimples on either side of her mouth. “You don’t even know me. I could be a married woman enjoying a fling. What of my husband?” she teased.

  “Leave him.”

  Nile wanted to laugh, but couldn’t. “It would never work. Who I am…who I am would ruin us.”

  Couldn’t he say the same? Taurus asked himself. The answer came swiftly. Yes. Yes he most certainly could.

  “When do you leave?” He asked instead.

  “A week,” Nile trailed both hands down the hard smoothness of his sculpted chest.

  Taurus lowered his forehead to her shoulder, feeling his simmering arousal return to its fully heated state. “Then we shouldn’t waste any of it with talk,” he decided.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Seattle, Washington-1 year later~

  The beautiful penthouse office at Ramsey Group was bathed in silence. In one of the majestic corner domains, five men sat in stone-faced silence and listened to the revelations shared by the sixth. Once he’d finished, the silence had more to do with devastation than politeness.

  “Jesus,” Yohan breathed, and moved from his spot on one of the large arm chairs. Easing his free hand into the side pocket of his gray trousers, he went to stand before the floor to ceiling windows lining his cousins’ office.

  “I second that,” Fernando muttered then, stroking his rough jaw as he processed what his cousin had just told them. “Are you sure?” he asked.

  Taurus’ announcement that his parents had been murdered to ‘persuade’ them to put all their resources into finding those card keys, seemed so outrageous. But what; they all acknowledged, hadn’t been outrageous in their family?

  “And how do we know his daughter has them?”

  “We don’t.” Taurus told Yohan. He could have passed for calm had it not been for the muscle jumping along his jaw that belied it all. “Unfortunately, it’s all we have as a starting place just now.”

  “Well did Gray give you anything else to go on?” Quay asked, referring to City Councilman Grayman Sessions who was knee-deep in the affair.

  Taurus only shook his head.

  “I think we should do it.” Moses spoke up then.

  Fernando turned to stare down his older brother. “You mean give in to these sons of bitches?” he asked.

  “Damn right,” Moses whispered, leaning forward to brace his elbows on his knees. “Hell, if what T says is true and Houston and Daphne were murdered what do you think those fools will do to the rest of our family?”

  Each man’s thoughts were riveted on the women in their lives.

  Quest left his chair then. He massaged his left arm which now ached in its tell-tale fashion beneath the mocha shirt he wore. Silently enraged, his eyes had gone from their haunting gray to the murderous black. He took root before the windows as well and stared out at the skyline.

  More silence loomed and was broken by the sound of Quay slamming a fist to his palm. “To hell with it,” he growled, “I agree with Mo but handing over some innocent girl puts a bad taste in my mouth.”

  “Who says she’s innocent?” Taurus muttered and then forced himself to shake off the notion.

  “Who says we have to hand her over?” Quest spoke up at last.

  “What’cha got in mind Q?” Moses asked.

  Quest shrugged, turning to lean against the window pane. “I agree with Moses too. We should find Cufi’s daughter, see what she knows. See if she’s innocent,” he remarked sending a meaningful glance toward Taurus. “We’ll see if she has those cards. Then we find out how much the damn things are really worth.”

  Fernando and Quaysar burst into laughter.

  “Blackmail brotha?” Quay teased his twin. “Didn’t know you had it in you?”

  Quest bowed his head in acknowledgement. “So far everyone believes Aunt Daphne killed Houston and herself. We need to keep it that way.” He determined, but looked to Taurus and awaited his consent.

  “And we keep this among ourselves,” he added with Taurus nodded. Every other man in the room spoke up with their own words of agreement.

  ***

  Los Angeles, California

  That afternoon, Nile Becquois was fighting mad. She slammed down the phone receiver and ran shaking fingers across her glossy jet hair.

  A stunning honey-gold blonde sat across from Nile and tried not to smile. “Told you so,” Darby Ellis remarked.

  “Son of a bitch,” Nile raged, though her voice never raised higher than a whisper. In a further show of anger, she hurled a slew of art brushes across the floor. It was no surprise that her nerves were in a bunch. That was a usual reaction to a conversation with Perry Finch owner of the warehouse that had been home to her art clinic for the past five years.

  Unlike before however, Perry was talking eviction that time. That only meant he’d found another pigeon to scam unspeakable amounts of cash from for the drafty, leaky dwelling.

  “Yeah…” Nile conceded, leaning back in her black cushiony desk chair. “He’s probably got a new lease already drawn up for his new tenants. He wouldn’t budge on that price.”

  “Because he knows you can’t raise it.” Darby said.

  Nile massaged her eyes and smiled. “Don’t you mean because he knows I won’t raise it?”

  “I didn’t say that.” Darby’s voice held an underlying tension below its sweet tone.

  Nile rolled her eyes. “You may as well have,” she snapped turning her rage on the woman who had been her manager and best friend for over eight years.

  Darby gave a flip wave of her hand and stood. “But I didn’t,” she reciprocated. “This is your hang-up,” she accused before realizing she’d done so. “I’m sorry Ny,” she groaned and let her eyes drift shut.

  Fiddling with the oversized cuff of her white cotton blouse, Nile uttered a brief laugh. “Hell, you’re right.”

  “Shit,” Darby hissed, coming to kneel beside her best friend’s chair. “You’re scaring me lately. Why won’t you talk to me?”

  Nile tried to smile away the question, but couldn’t quite manage it. Darby knew nothing of her past-her true past. She certainly had no idea about the identity of her scandalous parents. Nile believed she had to keep it that way if she expected to keep her best friend.

  “Look I’m sorry,” Darby was apologizing before Nile could comment. “I didn’t mean to pry,” she stood and pressed her hands to her jean clad thighs. “Well…actually I did mean to pry but…I just never understand why you have all this aversion to selling your work.”

  Nile reared back in her chair when Darby went to stand before the bay windows lining the studio warehouse. “Aversion is such a sick word.” She finally ground out.

  “It’s just the way you act whenever
you sell a painting-sick.” Darby countered, folding her arms over the black cap-sleeved T-shirt she wore. “Is it so bad earning twenty-five to two hundred K plus for a painting?”

  “It is when you feel like a whore for doing it. I know-” she raised her hand before Darby could rebut, “another hang-up.”

  Unfortunately, it was a sad truth that Nile feared would take residence in her soul until the day she died. The apple never fell far from the tree she thought and fiddled with the collar of her blouse. If the sexual nature of her paintings were and evidence, she harbored the same addictions as her father. She supposed she should be grateful those addictions were soothed in the form of paintings instead of more destructive exploits.

  “How in the name of-” Darby stopped herself from snapping, sighed and summoned a calmer tone of voice. “How can you link selling art to selling sex? Okay, okay…bad comparison.” She conceded with a grin in light of the nature of the work in question. “I just wish you’d talk to me.” She urged silently acknowledging that she was whistling Dixie judging from the resigned look her friend put in place. Stiffening, she slapped her hands to her sides and headed for the door.

  Nile’s despair warred with her desire to speak up. Despair won.

  “You know,” Darby spoke over her shoulder as she walked. “I used to think it was funny-you moaning over the fact that the majority of your clients were male. Now I’m beginning to see how deep this goes for you.” She turned then. “You won’t talk about it, so I can’t offer you support here. Not anymore Nile. All I care about right now are those kids. They deserve a place to escape the horror they have to live with every day. They deserve beauty in their lives.”

  Nile’s alluring stare snapped to her friend’s face when she heard the sentence. Darby didn’t notice.