by Elise Noble
Then a screech pierced the air. “You guys! Are you back together?” Imogen barrelled down the hallway towards us. “Or do I need to kick him where it hurts?”
Oliver helped me to my feet and settled his hand over my belly. “We’re together.”
“Thank goodness for that. So, when’s the wedding?”
Oliver and I looked at each other. “Uh, we haven’t decided on that,” I said.
“I was kidding!” She caught sight of the sparkler and squealed again. “You mean you’re really getting married?”
Oliver shrugged—a careless gesture, but I’d come to understand he did it when he was nervous as well.
“We are.”
She pointed at her chest. “You’re looking at your number one bridesmaid right here. How about dark pink for the dresses? That always looks classy. Church or civil ceremony? Are you going with a theme?”
“At the moment, I’m thinking a quickie in Vegas looks like a good plan,” Oliver muttered.
Imogen totally ignored him. “I’ll start planning the bachelorette party right away. I’m excellent at these things. And can you do me a favour and make sure at least one of the groomsmen is single?”
“Have you met Bradley yet?” Oliver asked.
“No. Who’s Bradley?”
“He likes parties too. I have a feeling you’ll be best friends.”
“Is he single?”
“No, and he’s gay, but don’t let that stop you.”
“Come in and give me his number. I’ll make coffee, and we can start planning this shindig.”
Oliver picked me up and walked off along the landing, Imogen’s cries trailing behind him.
“Hey! Where are you going?”
He kissed me on the nose. “I’m taking my beautiful wife-to-be home where she belongs.” He dropped his voice. “Then I’m going to make love to her for the rest of the afternoon. The evening too. Anything else can wait until tomorrow.”
Bridget took one look at us when we walked in the door to Oliver’s apartment and took off her apron. “You won’t be needing me again today.” She grasped my hand on her way out and held it up so she could see the ring better. “Congratulations, dear. I’m glad he’s finally seen the light.”
The instant the door closed behind her, Oliver’s lips found mine, and when he pushed me back against the kitchen island, he was already hard. “I need you, princess. Here or the bedroom. Your choice.”
“I choose…both.”
He grinned, and the darkness that shrouded him earlier had disappeared. “Good answer, Mrs. Almost-Rhodes.”
He lifted me onto the cool marble counter and inched my dress up my thighs. But he didn’t stop there. He raised it to my breasts and gazed at my stomach. “Our baby’s in there.” His voice held the awe I felt.
“For the next six months.”
“You’re three months along?”
“Eleven weeks. I can’t believe I didn’t notice.”
“It doesn’t matter. Six months is plenty of time to set up the nursery, and we already have Bridget. But we need to go to antenatal classes and find you the best obstetrician.”
We. I loved the sound of that. This having-a-baby thing had just gotten a whole lot easier. And I’d have a family again, albeit a small one. That was all I needed.
Well, not quite all. The pulse between my thighs reminded me of an altogether more urgent requirement.
“Mr. Rhodes, will you stop talking? I need your cock inside me. Now.”
“Nothing would give me greater pleasure, princess.”
EPILOGUE
“JUST ONE LAST finishing touch.”
Bradley carried the vase of orchids past the waiting area and set it on the corner of the reception desk.
“There, it’s perfect.”
And it was. From the white-and-silver nail stations and the funky lighting to the quiet music and the private treatment room at the rear, Imogen’s new nail bar, Nailed It, was everything we’d imagined. Better still, the schedule was full for the next month. Imogen and Lisa, the new nail technician Dan had poached from somewhere, would be rushed off their feet. Not me, though. Oliver had insisted I have a very comfortable chair to go with my little desk in the back office, and with Il Tramonto right next door, I wouldn’t go hungry either.
In fact, the whole venture was a scheme cooked up by Giovanni and Oliver, assisted by Bradley and revealed in his typically over-the-top style.
“I’ve got a surprise for you,” Oliver had told me over breakfast one morning last month.
“Nothing’s ever going to beat the Audi.”
He’d bought it for me the week before, a top-of-the-range bright-red SUV with leather upholstery and every possible option. He’d screwed me on the hood too, my legs wrapped around his waist as he explained in detail why having stiff suspension was so important.
“You’ll need to reserve judgement on that.”
He’d blindfolded me then, and I thought it was part of some kinky sex game until the elevator stopped in the lobby and Bradley threw confetti all over us.
“What the…” I tore the blindfold off.
“You said you and Imogen needed a retail unit.”
“But… But…”
“When I bought the building, this place was a jewellery store, but the tenant retired a few months later. Since it was only small, I never wanted the hassle of renting it out again, so we just put a false wall over the front and used it for storage. Giovanni thought it might work as a nail salon.”
Bradley grabbed my hand and dragged me inside. “We’ll need to rewire and totally refurbish, but that shouldn’t take long. I’ve got catalogues and paint samples, and a rep from one of the big salon supply companies is meeting us here tomorrow afternoon.”
Imogen had been equally stunned when I broke the news to her, and I didn’t even get jealous when she threw her arms around Oliver and kissed him on the lips.
“Thank you, thank you!” She danced around and did a little wiggle, then paused. “Uh, how much is the rent?”
Oliver shrugged. “I don’t care about the rent. Just make sure Steffie takes it easy.”
Imogen insisted she’d start paying Oliver when the business made a profit, and I promised to take breaks whenever I got tired. I’d help Imogen with paperwork in the mornings and carry on giving Giovanni a hand with marketing a couple of days a week.
Not quite the career I’d planned for, but over the past few months my goals had changed, and now I couldn’t think of a better way to spend my weekdays.
The evenings, of course, belonged to Oliver.
Two weeks after the salon’s official opening, I curled up on the sofa with Oliver, a smoothie that looked far better than it tasted, and a copy of The Richmond Times. Oliver had made the front page again.
“It’s over,” I murmured. “It’s finally over.”
Oliver rested his hand on my six-month baby bump and nuzzled my neck.
“No, it’s only just beginning.”
The former front-runner for the position of Commonwealth Attorney, Jay Skinner, today found out what it was like to be on the other side of the dock when he was sentenced to life in prison for the murder of public defender Lyle Rogers, plus the attempted murders of Ethan “the Ghost” White and an unidentified woman.
Skinner was transferred last night to notorious supermax prison Redding’s Gap, where he will serve his sentence with no possibility of parole.
In a bizarre twist, the State Attorney General banned anybody from the Commonwealth Attorney’s office from prosecuting in order to avoid possible leniency, and defence star Oliver Rhodes switched sides to fulfil the brief.
“It was a victory for justice,” Mr. Rhodes said outside court today. When asked if he would be throwing his hat into the ring for the top job, Mr. Rhodes replied, “No. I prefer to be able to pick and choose my cases. I’ll only fight for those people I believe in.”
We won’t be seeing Mr. Rhodes in court for a few months, however. He�
��ll be taking a well-deserved break with his family while he celebrates his latest win.
“Hey, did you feel her move?” Oliver asked.
“Yup.” Every damn minute, it seemed like. Our little girl was a kicker, and I still had three more months to get through. “Perhaps we should sign her up for soccer lessons.”
“Just don’t tell Bradley—he’ll arrive with a set of goalposts for the nursery.”
We hadn’t even told him we were having a girl, because neither of us wanted to wake up the next morning to an entirely pink apartment. Oliver had gone quiet after we found out the sex, and I’d worried he was still grieving for his lost daughter, but a day later, he asked if I’d mind having a picture of Darcy on the wall. Of course I didn’t. She’d been a huge part of his life, and I wanted him to remember her even as he moved on. She’d been so damn cute—dark hair and chubby cheeks and Oliver’s brown eyes.
Our child would have a lot to live up to.
“My lips are sealed,” I said.
“Not later they won’t be.”
He was totally right. Oliver was always right, but I’d given up being annoyed by that.
“And now that your case is over, we can stay in bed all day tomorrow.”
He gave me a cunning grin. “True. But we also need to make some decisions. Where do you want to go on vacation? And when do you want to get married?”
Oliver had left the wedding plans up to me, and I’d been agonising for weeks. Did I want a quick wedding before the baby came or something fancy afterwards? Summer or winter? Chapel, hotel, beach, garden, museum, boat? Imogen and Bradley wanted the party of the century, but I just wanted Oliver.
“I have no idea. Really. My head’s so full of nail designs and Il Tramonto’s new menu right now.”
“What do you think of Florida for a short break?”
“Florida?”
“Ethan’s playing a live gig there in two weeks.”
“His first since he got arrested?”
“Yes, and it’s sold out. He and Dan have rented a villa on the beach, and they’re taking Caleb to Disney World afterwards. Dan asked if we wanted to join them for a few days.”
A chance to laze in the sun with Oliver wearing something other than a suit?
“I’d love that.”
“And the wedding?”
“I’m thinking something small. Just a handful of friends.”
“What about your family?”
Oliver had already said he didn’t want to invite any of his relatives, and from the rare comments he made about his childhood, I couldn’t blame him. But my family? Mason had taken to calling every couple of days, from Reggie’s phone to start with since Chester had stayed furious for weeks. But three days ago, Mom had phoned me and apologised for their behaviour even though I didn’t think my stepfather was at all sorry. The conversation had been stilted, awkward, but it was a start, and she’d said she looked forward to meeting her grandchild.
“I’ll invite them, but I’m not sure if they’ll come. We’ve got a lot of bridges to mend.”
“Chester’s the one who broke them, not you.”
“I know, but… I miss my mom.”
“Then we’ll postpone the wedding until you two are in a good place.”
“You don’t mind?”
“Princess, as long as I’ve got you in my bed every night, I’m a happy man.” He paused for a moment. “It’s what I wished for, you know.”
“Wished for?”
“On my birthday when I blew out those stupid candles Bradley bought. I wished that I wouldn’t go through the rest of my life alone. And then I nearly screwed it up.”
“You won’t get rid of me that easily, Mr. Almost-Amor.”
“Damn right, or I’ll have to get those scarves out again.”
We thought we’d gotten away with it. Or rather, without it—a celebration after the second trial, I mean. Bradley went quiet for almost a week, but then Dan emailed a photo of a giant dartboard with a life-sized cutout of Jay Skinner pinned to it.
Dan: Party at Riverley tonight. 7 p.m. and we’ve got non-alcoholic cocktails. Don’t be late.
Oliver read over my shoulder. “Today would be a good day to elope to Europe.”
“We can’t. Not when they’ve gone to all that trouble.”
Oliver grimaced. “Two hours, then I’m faking an emergency at work. An urgent debriefing. You can help with that.”
“Sure. Perhaps we could do it on the balcony off the library?”
He hugged me close and kissed my hair. Hair I no longer felt the need to fidget with. Being with Oliver left me in a perpetual state of bliss, and besides, he found other uses for my mouth and hands.
“Two hours, Mrs. Almost-Rhodes.”
At Riverley, it turned out Bridget had been helping with the cocktails. The moment we stepped through the door, she walked over with a tray and a huge smile.
“Stefanie! Lovely to see you. I’d hug you if it weren’t for the tray. And your bump. Here, have a drink. We’re calling this one Skinner’s Surprise.”
Heaven help us—she’d caught Bradley-itis. I took a glass filled with ice and mint sprigs and some kind of orange liquid.
“What’s in it?”
“Grapefruit, lemon juice, sugar syrup, soda water, carrot, and just a pinch of chilli powder.”
Oliver snorted and quickly turned it into a cough, but Bridget didn’t let him off lightly.
“You should try it too. It’s not fair on Stefanie to be the only one not drinking.”
“Yes, Oliver. You definitely need to try this.”
He took a sip and tried not to grimace as his eyes watered. “It’s certainly got a kick to it.”
I was trying to think of a tactful way to pour the concoction into the nearest plant pot when Emmy rolled up. Like, literally, on a pair of roller skates.
“What’s with the wheels?” Oliver asked.
“We’ve got a roller derby rink set up out back. The Toxic Tigers versus Satan’s Sweethearts. Bradley named the teams, by the way, not me.”
“This I’ve got to see,” Oliver muttered.
“You’ll have to fight the other men for a front-row seat. But I need to borrow Stef for a few minutes first. Do you mind?”
She didn’t wait for an answer, just waved an arm towards a corridor off the hallway. I followed. Nobody questioned Emmy.
In the music room, she leaned over and sniffed my glass. “Is that part of a drinking game? Truth or dare?”
“Uh, I was hoping to find a sink to pour it down.”
She grabbed the glass and tossed the contents out of the window. “There. Sorted.”
Those poor flowers. “What do you want to speak to me about?”
“I need a favour.”
“Okay.”
There wasn’t much else I could say. Firstly, Emmy and her friends had done so many favours for me I’d spend the rest of my life repaying them, and secondly, she still scared me.
“I’ve got a friend coming to stay soon. Roxy. She’s been at school in London since last September, but she’s just finished her medical degree, and she’s coming to the US for a short break. Or it might turn into a longer break. She doesn’t actually know that last part yet, so if you could keep it quiet, I’d be grateful.”
Good grief. “How does that involve me? Does she need someone to show her around?”
“More than that; she needs a friend. She used to be in the same line of work as you, except not voluntarily.”
“You mean…” I couldn’t even say the words.
“Roxy was trafficked. We’re looking after her, but she’s still painfully shy, and she needs to learn how to have fun. Will you help?”
“Of course. When’s she arriving?”
“Next week. And…” Emmy fell silent.
“What?”
“A little social engineering may be required.”
“Huh?”
“There’s a guy she likes. He likes her too, except he’s t
oo dumb to do anything about it.”
The words “like Oliver” hung in the air between us. She didn’t need to say them.
“Sure, I can help with that too.”
Emmy grinned, a cross between happy and cunning. Oh, sugar honey iced tea, what had I gotten myself into?
“Perfect,” she said. “Enjoy the party. I’ve left the balcony doors unlocked for you.”
WHAT'S NEXT?
Have you tried my Blackwood Security series? You can read the beginning of Stefanie’s story in book nine, White Hot.
White Hot
When private investigator Daniela di Grassi is given a new case, the evidence is so compelling that even her client himself thinks he did it. Ethan White was one of the world’s top music producers, at least until last week, when his spectacular fall from grace began with the discovery of a mutilated college student in his bed.
A dead girl nobody cares about, cops with one agenda, and a prosecutor with another—nothing about this case is simple. And when Dan digs deeper into the mystery, the conflicting clues aren’t the only thing she finds intriguing. Ethan’s got his own secrets too.
As the worlds of black and white collide, who will come out on top?
White Hot is the ninth book in the Blackwood Security series but can be read as a standalone - no cliffhanger!
Find out more here: www.elise-noble.com/white
The next story in the Blackwood Elements series will be Platinum, Roxy and Gideon’s story.
Platinum
After a run-in with her new boss costs junior doctor Roksana Bartosz her job, her friend Sofia has the perfect solution—a short break in Virginia to take her mind off the problem. Little does she know that Sofia and Emmy Black are intent on playing matchmaker in the craziest way possible.
Gideon Renard avoids relationships, especially with girls as fragile as Roxy. Taking a new job in Washington, DC seems like the perfect way to put space between them. But his friends have other ideas, and in between hunting down three missing assassins, resisting the temptation to strangle his ex, and fighting the demons of his past, he has a big decision to make. Can he walk away from Roxy for the second time?
