Shaking off her regrets, she ran her hands along the front of the blueberry colored leotard she’d chosen for her workout. Strolling across the quiet room, she went to browse the almost never-ending supply of CDs framing a sound system which boasted the latest technology. She selected a few CDs and set them to the changer- once she’d figured out where the changer was amongst all the gadgets on the elaborate piece of equipment.
Music soon filled the room and Mick took several moments to absorb the unfamiliar swirl of jazz that colored the studio. After a while, she began to move in sync to the music allowing the rhythms to calm her mind and speak to her body. An original routine followed, with Mick using every bit of the considerable space available to her. The performance consisted of jumps, twirls and kicks sure to work off all the frustration that had mounted to overflowing.
Michaela had gone through two CDs and taken three breaks by the time thoughts of a full breakfast began to call to her mind and tummy. She pushed those thoughts away and ordered herself to focus. There was still a ton of tension she needed to work off. She was beginning to consider Sabra’s suggestion of a kickboxing class, when the first track off a vintage collection of Luke merged in. Mick gave a silent prayer of thanks as all those distracting thoughts merged…out. In moments, she was in the throes of a strenuous yet sultry routine fueled by the pounding bass and suggestive lyrics.
~~~
Quest had left the suite that morning long before Mick woke. Returning to find her gone, struck something inside him whether he wanted to dwell on it or not. It didn’t matter. He set off to find his cousin and; after yet another lecture regarding his treatment of his wife, Sabra told him where she was.
The floor that housed the rehearsal studios was quiet thanks to the soundproofing installed throughout the area. Only the soothing hum of air conditioning filled the dim wing. Quest’s steps slowed the closer he ventured to the room Sabra had noted. He knocked once, silently acknowledging that she couldn’t have possibly heard the pathetic excuse for a knock. Without realizing how on edge he was, Quest breathed deeply and twisted the knob.
A sense of déjà vu washed over him when he peeked inside and found his wife. Memories surged of a long ago afternoon when he’d been treated to a performance that she’d had no idea he was looking in on. Slowly, Quest pushed the door shut behind him and simply watched. Like before, he was entranced and aroused. Like before, he tilted his head this way and that trying to capture every nuance- every movement of her lovely body. Not like before however, this time he had intimate knowledge of the pleasure her body was capable of evoking. Not like before, he wasn’t watching her from a window in a room overlooking her yard. Not like before, this time, he intended to do something about it.
Michaela’s gasp went unheard when she bumped into something warm and unyielding. The Luke CD had ended and the seductive crooning of John Legend chimed in to begin the cool down of the exhilarating work out. When she found Quest standing there, any thoughts of cooling down…grew distant.
His mouth came crashing down on hers and the resulting moans were muffled against the volume of the music. He lifted her against him and her legs immediately locked about his waist. Mick shivered on the feel of his denim jeans and the shirt that hung open to reveal the white jersey-T beneath. Desperately her fingers stroked his neck where silky hair tapered off at his nape.
Holding her high against him, Quest carried her to the nearest mirrored wall. Their kissing was passionate madness personified. Quest molded his hands to every part of her encased in the suite she’d danced around in.
Mick’s brain was so fuzzy; it took some time to realize that his roaming hands were seeking a way to get the leotard off her body. She assisted, never breaking the kiss while reaching behind her neck to undo the fastening clasps.
Quest took over from there, pulling the material from her body. His brows drew close as he kissed his way down every inch of her that was exposed.
Somewhere in a deep recess of her mind, Mick accepted that this was physical need at its best. Nothing would change because of it, but God how she wanted him. She wouldn’t allow the issues resting between them to rob her of this chance.
Quest didn’t bother to undress- he didn’t think his need would wait long enough. Instead, he freed what hungered for her.
“Quest-” she seemed to hiccup his name as he took her with a beautiful savagery that had both of them wincing from the sheer bliss of feeling.
Mick wanted to rest her head on his shoulder and just take the seeking plunges of his length, but she also wanted more. She met his fire with her own, her legs squeezed his back like a vice. She arched into a bow and allowed her powerful desire for him to numb her mind and beckon her body to take over. Quest’s grunts were breathless at times while he chanted her name frequently… helpless to stop.
Somehow they climaxed as one. Quest felt his strength give beneath the potency of it. His hands splayed alongside Mick on the mirrors when the shudders that wracked his body began to ebb.
But for the long breaths between them, there were no other sounds. When Quest withdrew, Mick didn’t bother to look his way. She knew the guarded sheen had returned to his haunting stare. They disentangled with an eerie ease and fixed their clothing. Quest left the studio as quietly as he’d entered. When the door closed behind him, Mick eased down to the floor, huddled into a ball and rested her forehead on her knees.
***
Mick felt rested in body if not mind when she met Sabra for brunch. She’d been foolish enough to hope she and Quest could use the purely physical act which had occurred earlier that morning to pave the path toward communication. Those hopes gave way to cowardice when she returned to the suite to change from that morning’s workout and found him there- still cold, still distant. They moved around one another in that ridiculously huge room like there were boulders all around that kept them from touching.
“Sorry I’m late girl. I swear this place never stops!” Sabra was breathless when she took her place across from Mick at a table in one of the restaurants inside her hotel.
“You handle it very easily.” Mick complimented, draping an oversized linen napkin across the mushroom gauchos she sported.
Sabra propped a fist beneath her chin and narrowed her eyes. “Maybe I should’ve let you handle things on my overnight shift. You look like you hardly got a minute of sleep.”
“I won’t argue there. The workout in the studio helped, but I’ll be much better when I’m back home.”
Sabra took Mick’s hand once she’d finished raking it through her curls. “Why not stay on here for a while? Let Q go back on his own.”
“That’s tempting.” Mick closed her eyes and smiled. “Very tempting.”
“Guess y’all didn’t talk last night or when he stopped by the studio, huh?” Sabra pretended to be interested in the peek-a-boo ties of her cement colored Henley top.
Mick braced her elbows on the table. “We didn’t talk a bit. All these years I’ve fooled myself into believing I had so much courage…this shows me how little I really have.”
“Now you need to stop this.” Sabra slapped one of Mick’s arms. “Your husband worships you and now he’s acting like a damn fool. Any woman would be turned around by this.”
“Thanks.”
“So? Why don’t you stay a while? Put some distance between you.”
Mick almost laughed. “We don’t need to be in different states to have distance.
“I really just need to see my little girl.” Mick said once Sabra had given their orders to the waiter who stopped by the table.
“That’d do you a world of good.” Sabra predicted with a refreshing look on her dark face. “Hey! Why don’t you bring her out when she’s old enough to travel and we can have a girl’s weekend- the three of us?”
Mick did laugh then. “You’ll be waiting a while for that trip. I’m afraid Quinn’s not quite ready to play the slots yet.”
“Forget the slots. We can sit around and talk
shit about all the men we’ve loved before.”
“Mmm…” Mick’s lashes fluttered. “That would be interesting. Thanks.” She told the waiter who’d arrived with coffee.
“Damn right.” Sabra raised her large mug in toast. “We can male bash and eat baby food right out of the jar.”
“Ha! Now I know you’ve gone crazy.”
“What? Strained peaches are da bomb!”
Laughter continued well into the delicious brunch. Mick was chewing bacon and laughing over Sabra’s comments regarding a men’s health conference when her glee was brought to a screeching halt.
“Don’t tell me. The fun police just arrived.” Sabra dropped her napkin to the knee of her white cargo pants.
As Quest crossed the dining room, Mick thought it was perhaps the first time since she’d known him that she actually dreaded his approach.
“Time to go,” Were his words once he stood near the table, hands hidden in the pockets of his charcoal carpenter’s pants.
“She needs to eat first.”
“We’ll be ready to take off in a couple of hours.” Quest continued as though Sabra hadn’t spoken.
“Well I’m sure they’ll wait.” Sabra added more volume to her words that time.
Mick kept her head bowed suddenly chilled in the apple blossom capped sleeved tee she wore. Quest allowed softness to touch his expression as he watched her. When at last she looked up, he’d put the coldness back in place.
“I’ll be waiting in her office.” He cocked his head in his cousin’s direction.
Sabra stuck out her tongue as Quest walked off. “I really wish you’d reconsider staying. A few days alone might make him see what a big idiot he’s being.”
“Thanks Sabra but I really just want to go home.” Mick wiped her hands on the napkin and dropped it to her plate. “There’re some papers I had sent to Seattle from my place in Chicago. I should go through ‘em before I get too lazy.” She thought of the two boxes of Driggers’ belongings.
“Alright I’ll stop pressing.” Sabra finished the rest of her coffee. “Just promise you’ll come spend a few days if things get too tense at home? ‘Your room’s always ready at Sabra Ram’s’”, she quoted her slogan and added a wink.
It felt good to laugh. “I’ll remember.” Mick promised.
***
Georgetown, VA
Lamont Pevsner sat with his squared chin propped in his palm and an unreadable glint in his eyes. Still, he could do nothing about the small yet humorous smile which played about his mouth.
Inappropriate or not, Lamont always considered it a privilege- a pleasurable privilege to watch one of his loveliest agents when she was unaware that she was being observed. The scant smile he wore twitched just slightly as he imagined the tongue lashing he’d be in for if she ever heard him call her lovely.
“So are we just gonna sit on these or are we gonna generate some mileage from them?”
Lamont’s sky blue stare rose from the sensibly shod feet that dangled a few inches above the floor. “What sort of mileage did you have in mind?”
Sybilla Ramsey shuffled through the unassuming tin locked box while scanning the all-important key cards. “Possibilities are endless,” her childlike voice was whisper soft as always but with an added tinge of awe.
“Endless… Such as?” Lamont returned to the simple black leather chair behind his desk. He felt the jolt when her stunning slate gray gaze flickered to his face.
Suspicion ignited a furrow in her brow. “Lamont, surely your…brain trust has more ideas than I could ever dream up.”
He chuckled while stroking that square jaw of his. “Your confidence in us is overwhelming. We’ve been tossing around some things.” He added when she only glared. “Our best ideas would actually require your participation.”
“Please,” Sybilla rolled her eyes toward the office’s low ceiling. “You know I’ve been dying to get involved with this.” Her face took on harshness then. “My devil uncles darkened my family’s name for decades. Best vindication would be for a Ramsey to clean up the whole mess.” She grimaced at her feet dangling above the short unappealing carpeting and leaned in to plant them firmly on the floor.
Lamont leaned forward as well. “The Ramsey part in all this is pretty much done. Everyone knows who the real culprits were- there’s nothing for your to prove Bill.”
Hissing a curse; and dragging a hand through the haphazard of clipped waves upon her head, Sybilla stood. “Thank God Marc and Houston are no longer an issue, but that still leaves the people who gave them power, doesn’t it? Until they’re finished a Ramsey needs to stay involved.” Slender shoulders rose beneath a time worn blazer. “That Ramsey should be me.”
Obviously pleased, Lamont nodded. “I’m glad to hear you say that Bill.” He waved a hand toward the chair she occupied, urging her to sit. “I hope you’ll feel the same once you’ve got all the details.”
Sybilla crossed trouser clad legs and shrugged. “So long as my undercover package is flawless, I’m really to be briefed.”
Lamont scratched through his shaggy brown hair then bridged his fingers atop his cluttered desk. “It’s the uh…undercover part that might change your mind about coming in on this.” He passed her the folder.
Sybilla’s unruly boyish cut, framed a face that became a picture of disbelief when she scanned the folder’s contents. Somehow, she managed a grin. “You’re joking, right?”
***
Going home was the right move, Mick thought when she saw Quincee. Her heart soared and happy tears pressured her eyes when Quinn wiggled in Sonja’s embrace.
“My girl…there’s my girl.” Michaela whispered carefully taking her daughter into her arms. Eyes closed, Mick held Quinn close and inhaled her soothing baby smell.
Sonja was going on about everything she felt the returning parents needed to know regarding how well their daughter slept, ate, played…
Mick only half listened. All that mattered then was holding Quincee close and hearing the baby’s delighted cooing in her ear.
“Thank you so much Sonja.” Quest was saying and pressed a thick envelope into the girl’s hand.
Sonja gasped, spotting the cash inside the envelope. “Mr. Ramsey the- the service already sent the payment for the job.”
Quest only squeezed her hand. “As long as you’re with the company we want no one else looking after our child. This is just a small bonus for giving us peace of mind while we were away.”
Flustered as much by the gesture as she was by the man himself, Sonja nodded and uttered a soft, shaky ‘thank you’.
Mick leaned in to kiss Sonja’s cheek and squeeze her forearm before heading into the sitting room with Quincee.
Sonja returned upstairs to finish packing her things. Meanwhile, Michaela spent her time playing with Quinn and talking about all the things she saw on the trip. Quest gave mother and daughter their time together. He only paused briefly to kiss Quincee’s forehead and tiny mouth, before going to sit on the other side of the room and make calls.
“I’ve um, I’ve got a meeting at Ramsey.”
Michaela’s fingers clenched minutely about Quincee. Her heart lurched at hearing Quest’s voice directed her way. Slowly, she moved to put the baby in the bassinette.
“I’ll just give you some time with your daughter before you go.”
Quest kept his gaze hooded as he watched Mick leave the room. Alone with Quinn, he let the phone drop from his weak hand and massaged the bridge of his nose.
This situation was killing him. All he wanted was to go upstairs, forget everything that happened and talk to his wife. Leaving the arm chair, he went to Quincee and drew her from the bassinette.
“Daddy’s made Mommy very sad and he should apologize, but he doesn’t quite know how and the longer he takes the worse things get.”
Quinn only squealed and cooed, her gray eyes sparkling up into her father’s.
As Michaela had done earlier, Quest pressed his nose against Qui
ncee’s shoulder and breathed in drawing strength from her soothing smell. He helped himself to more than a dozen kisses before taking Quinn upstairs to the nursery where he helped himself to a dozen more.
Afterwards, Quest ventured into the master bedroom looking for Mick. Instead he found two boxes on the bed and took a moment to inspect them. The box of photos held his attention for several moments. Snapshots of Driggers and Mick- or just Mick alone brought a smile to his face and a rush of warmth and need to the rest of his body. He rubbed a hand across the taupe long sleeved crew shirt that hung outside his pants. A ball of frustration was swelling inside his abdomen and only served to intensify the warm rush of need for his wife.
He moved on toward the bathroom when the sound of running water caught his ears. The smell of her shower gel teased his nostrils the second he looked past the cracked door. Strolling inside, he reached for the robe she had lying across the back of the armchair facing the shower. Taking a seat in the chair, he rubbed the material between his fingers and pressed the garment to his nose. Torturing himself a bit longer, he studied her silhouette against the glass doors of the shower.
Helplessly he watched transfixed by her movements. His dark gorgeous features tightened as the waves of arousal grew more defined. He started to knead the material of the robe as though it were Michaela he held. He was so lost in thought that he didn’t realize she’d shut off the shower.
Mick squeezed a few remnants of water from her hair while stepping from the stall. She took a moment to observe her body in the floor length three way mirror near the tub. She was on her way out of the bathroom and using a small dark towel to dry her curls when she saw Quest seated and watching her.
The tiny shriek Mick uttered seemed amplified in the bathroom. Reflexively, she folded her arms over her chest and realized it left the rest of her enticingly bare. Quest made no secret of the fact that he was enjoying the view. Still kneading the robe he held, he shifted in the chair and raked his pitch stare across her body.
The Ramseys Boxed Set Page 136
