No More Playas

by Brenda Jackson

  Before he reached it, Lance called out, “Crews. You owe it to Asia to make sure she knows what’s in her heart. Don’t take advantage of her vulnerability. If you do that, then you’re no better than your brother was. Think about it.”

  Sean shot a cold glance over his shoulder at Lance before opening the door and walking out.

  17

  Carrie

  “Baby girl, some mail came for you.”

  “Thanks, Pop,” Carrie said, glancing up at him and smiling. Jeremiah Montgomery was a robust man who stood well over six feet tall. According to her brothers he had been a stern but loving father. To her he was the man who had accepted her, without question, as his daughter. Beneath his thick eyebrows were dark brown eyes that had probably seen a lot during his sixty-two years. As soon as he left the room, she leaned back in her chair and pushed away from the table where she’d been trying her hand at a crossword puzzle.

  She had instructed her secretary to forward any mail that didn’t appear to be business related. The moment Pop had handed her the legal-sized envelope, she had known what it was. It looked the same as the last one she had received.

  A shiver of foreboding ran through her as she ripped it opened then cursed when the contents tumbled out. More photos. And the note read:

  I want ten thousand dollars for every photo. I think they’re worth it, don’t you? And don’t think about going to the cops. Remember if you care about your brothers and the embarrassment it will cause if these photos become public, then make plans to send the money. My next letter will provide all the details.

  A Good Friend

  Carrie wasn’t stupid. Once she started paying this person money it would never end. There would be more photos and more demands for money. She knew she had done the right thing in hiring Connor.

  The last thing she wanted was to talk to Connor right now, but the arrival of the photos gave her no choice. She had to tell him. Every time his name crossed her mind, her skin became somewhat heated; it actually tingled. It was her fault for finding the brotha so damn irresistible, so mouthwatering handsome and fine. The memory of how he had looked when she’d walked into his office the other day made her pulse leap even now.

  She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she actually jumped when her cell phone vibrated in the front pocket of her jeans. She stood to pull it out and swallowed deeply when she saw the name that appeared on the caller ID. It was Connor. Her thoughts of him might as well have conjured him up. “Yes?” she answered. “Carrie, this is Connor.”

  “Yes, I know, Connor. What can I do for you?” She quickly bit her bottom lip. That might not have been the best question to ask. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

  It depends on your definition of bad, she thought. “No, I was just thinking about calling you anyway.”

  There was a pause. “Really? How come?”

  “I received another envelope today with more pictures.”

  “Is the person demanding money now?” he asked after muttering curses. The tone of his voice was sharp, angry. She was glad that anger wasn’t directed at her.

  “Yes. Ten thousand for every photo. Unless there are more, that’s ten of them, which means a hundred thousand dollars.”

  “Over my dead body. The bastard won’t be getting a damn penny out of you. I’m going to see to it. I’m going to make sure his ass rots in jail.”

  She found his words comforting. “Thank you, Connor.”

  There was another pause. Then he said, “Hey, no sweat. That’s what you’re paying me for.”

  There, Carrie thought. He had made sure she knew that anything and everything he was doing was in no way personal. “Was there something you needed to talk to me about?” she decided to ask. She wanted things to be strictly business between them as much as he did.

  “Yes. I got a lead on Simon Anderson.”

  Carrie stomach knotted. “You did?”

  “Yes, and I’m flying out to L.A. in the morning.”

  “You are? Can I go with you?” The request was out of Carrie’s mouth before she could call it back. But then she didn’t want to. She needed closure, and one way to get it would be to look Simon Anderson dead in his face.

  “Why do you want to go?”

  Carrie knew he had a right to ask. She also knew she had to make him understand. “I need to see him, Connor. I need to put this behind me.”

  For a few moments, he didn’t say anything. “Okay, you can come along.”

  Carrie sighed. She suspected that he did understand. “Thanks.”

  They talked awhile longer. He provided her details of the flight arrangements he would be making for her, and then they said good-bye. Instead of placing the cell phone back in her pocket, Carrie placed it on the table then quickly put the photos and note back inside the envelope. The last thing she needed was for Pop to see them.

  She was glad Connor had agreed to take her with him. Now she needed to let Pop know she would be going out of town for a few days. Her brothers would be coming for Thanksgiving, and she needed to put as much of this behind her as she could before then.

  18

  Asia and Sean

  At around eleven o’clock in the morning, the day after his visit with Lance, Sean knocked on Asia’s door. A seven-hour delay out of Chicago’s O’Hare Airport had given him time to think. That Lance Montgomery was one arrogant son of a bitch.

  But what if she is in love with Montgomery, like he claims?

  Sean knocked on the door again, his jawline tightening. Both he and Asia needed to know the truth. The arrogant son of a bitch was right about one thing: Sean cared too much for Asia to take advantage of her vulnerability a second time. He would never forgive himself for doing so, and the thought that she would wake up one morning and decide she’d never loved him and wanted out of their marriage killed something inside of him.

  The door flew open, and there she stood, in a pair of godawful looking sweats, her hair going every which way on her head and a pair of glasses propped on her nose. But at that moment, he thought she was beautiful.

  “Hi,” he said, leaning toward her and placing a quick kiss on her lips.

  “Sean,” she said in a rush. Clearly surprised. “I wasn’t expecting you.” She glanced down at herself. “I look—”

  “Beautiful as usual,” he said, meaning every word. Damn. Life wasn’t fair. Would he forever be punished because his ass of a brother had met her first and had broken her heart? He forced that thought from his mind. “May I come in?”

  “Of course you can,” she said, moving aside for him to enter.

  He waited a minute, feeling the tension in the air between them before stepping over the threshold. He knew his life was about to change forever.

  “Would you like something to drink?” Asia nervously asked. God, she felt awful. This wasn’t just any other man. This was Sean. The man she considered her best friend. The man she wanted to marry. The man she loved in a special way.

  She wondered if she had lost all of that. Had he already judged her from that article David had sent him? If so, what else could she say in her defense? She had allowed Lance to kiss her and hadn’t resisted . . . until later, when it hadn’t mattered.

  “No, I don’t want anything to drink,” he said, glancing around, seeing the area in the room where her desk and computer were located. It was cluttered with all her writing materials, which meant he had interrupted her at work. “Do you have a few minutes so we can talk?”

  She shrugged. “Sure.”

  Sean reached out and captured Asia’s hand, entwining their fingers. She felt his warmth but didn’t feel the tingle she’d felt when Lance had touched her. She tightened her hand in Sean’s. It didn’t matter. She hated herself for even comparing.

  He led her over to the sofa, and they sat down. “First, I want to say that I’m sorry for the way I acted the other day. I—”

  “You had every right to act that way, Sean,” she interrupted. “I should not have let Lance k
iss me.”

  Sean didn’t say anything for a few brief moments, and then he nodded. “Why do you think you let him do it, Asia?”

  A tremendous sigh escaped her lips. “I don’t know. It just happened. I have no excuse, but I am sorry that it did, and it won’t again.”

  “Are you sure of that?”

  Asia raised a single dark, irritated brow. “I said so, didn’t I? Don’t you believe me?”

  “Do you believe yourself, Asia?” he asked almost tenderly.

  She tensed before pulling her hand free of his. “Yes, but you obviously think not.”

  He leaned back against the seat. “I just want you to be sure of your feelings.”

  “And you don’t think that I am?”

  When a full minute passed and he didn’t answer, she stood and walked over to the window and looked out while trying to suck in calming breaths, getting angrier by the second. She wondered why he was doubting things between them just because of that article.

  “I went to see Lance Montgomery, Asia.”

  Abruptly Asia turned around and stared at him. “You did what?” she asked in a disbelieving voice.

  Sean stood. “I went to see Montgomery, to let him know I think he crossed the line where you’re concerned.”

  Asia stared at him, not believing what he was saying. Sean was a soft-spoken, kind, and noble person and nothing like the cold-blooded, manipulating shark Lance was. Lance was a man who didn’t know how to take the word no for an answer, a man who was accustomed to getting whatever he wanted. She didn’t want to imagine Sean and Lance, facing each other, both defending what they felt was their individual right to have her. The thought of that encounter angered her even more.

  “You had no right to go visit him, Sean.”

  Sean covered the distance separating them. “As your fiance, I had every right.” Then he added, “He thinks you’re in love with him.”

  “I’m sure he does. Me and every other woman on this earth. He’s nothing but a conceited bastard. I hate him, and don’t care if I ever saw him again.”

  Sean studied her. He saw the quivering of her lips, the tears she was holding back in her eyes. Lance had hurt her, but he knew her well enough to know that for the man to have had the ability to do so only meant she had felt something deep for him.

  “You know what they say. There’s a very thin line between love and hate,” he replied unsteadily.

  Asia placed her hands on her hips. “Just what are you trying to say?”

  He had to know. He had to be sure. But most important,she had to know. She had to be sure. He loved her enough to risk losing her if it came to that. More than anything, he wanted her to be happy. Totally and completely.

  “What I’m trying to say, Asia, is that as much as I love you and want you to be a part of my life, to marry you and make you my wife, I can’t see us ever being truly happy as long as Lance Montgomery is going to be there, somewhere, always lurking in the shadows, looming between us.”

  “If he is looming between us, it’s because you’re letting him!” she snapped. “Don’t you see what he’s doing? He’s deliberately coming between us, putting doubt of my feelings for you in your head and—”

  “I know you love me, Asia.”

  “Then what is this all about?” she asked, feeling her world closing in.

  “It’s about knowing the degree of your love. Forever is a long time. I couldn’t handle it if you decided ten years from now that you don’t love me enough to stay with me anymore.”

  “That won’t happen, Sean.”

  “We can’t be absolutely sure of that.”

  She turned away, not wanting to see the uncertainty in Sean’s eyes any longer. It took her a moment to compose herself before turning back around. “So, since you think I don’t know my own mind and heart, what are you suggesting, Dr. Crews?” she asked bitterly.

  “Time,” he whispered huskily. “Time to be sure the decisions we make are the right ones. We should spend time apart, not as an engaged couple, to think things through. I’ll come back and see you on New Year’s Eve, and if you’re still sure you want us to marry, that you want to be my wife, we can move forward and set a date. If you’ll be in full agreement, I’d prefer not waiting until June but would like to marry in April. On my birthday.”

  “I’ll still want to marry you, Sean. I’ll still want to be your wife,” she breathed softly. “And we will marry in April. Don’t let Lance come between us.”

  He nodded and forced an assuring smile. “I won’t. What’s meant to be will be.”

  Asia fought the anger that was consuming her as she slipped off his ring. “Here,” she said, offering it back to him.

  He looked at it for a second. “No, you keep it until you give me your decision on New Year’s Eve. When I slip it back on your finger, then we’ll both know that’s where it belongs and where it will stay, forever.” Then he leaned down and kissed her tenderly on the lips.

  19

  Carrie and Connor

  “You’re all buckled up?”

  Carrie raised eyes to the curved ceiling. “Of course I am. Do you think I’m a half-wit?”

  Connor grinned as he reclined in his seat. “No, but you did mention how much you hated flying, so I was just checking to make sure you’re okay.”

  Carrie snorted. “I can take care of myself.”

  Her comment drew a chuckle from Connor’s throat. He was slowly but surely discovering that Carrie Montgomery was a lot different from most women.

  Feeling her eyes on him, he tilted his head and met her gaze. “What?”

  “You never said what happens when we get to L.A.,” she said nervously as the plane began moving swiftly down the runway.

  “I’ve made hotel reservations.”

  At her arched brow, his smile widened, and he added, “Separate rooms, of course, and once we get settled, we’ll check out Anderson’s last known address to see what we can find out. A friend of mine, an ex-cop who also owns a PI firm, drove by the place and said it looked vacant, like Anderson was out of town or something. Hopefully by the time we get there, he would have returned.”

  Connor watched as Carrie pushed a hand through her hair. Whether her agitation was from the plane tilting upward as it zoomed off toward the friendly skies or from the thought of possibly coming face-to-face with Simon Anderson again after all these years, he wasn’t sure. At this point it didn’t matter, especially when just watching her run her fingers through her hair was a turn-on for him. Even strapped in his seat, he could feel his body respond. Mr. P was reminding him of how long it’d been since he got laid. Damn. He reached into the compartment in front of him, pulled out a magazine, and placed it in his lap.

  “What if he denies everything?” Carrie asked, leaning a little toward him to drown out the sound of the plane’s engine.

  Connor wished she hadn’t done that. She smelled good— tantalizing and seductive. He cleared his throat. “Then he has a lot of explaining to do, since it won’t take much for the authorities to figure out that he’s the man in those photos, which would mean jail time. Like I told you the other day, the man has to be stupid.”

  He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, not wanting to think about another possibility that had begun forming in his mind, one he didn’t like. What if Anderson wasn’t the person trying to get money out of her?

  He had another strong suspect but until he checked into things further, he would keep the information to himself. Carrie had enough to deal with, and a part of him wanted to shield her from any additional hurt and pain she might encounter.

  Carrie glared at Connor. “You said we had separate rooms.”

  He glared right back at her. Their connecting flight from Atlanta to L.A. had been the flight from hell. They had encountered enough turbulence in the air, and the last thing he wanted to deal with was turbulence here at the hotel with her. He simply refused to put up with Carrie getting a bad-ass attitude. “We do have separate rooms. This
happens to be a two-bedroom suite, and it was all they had at the time I made reservations. Double occupancy, two bedrooms separated by a spacious sitting room, so what is your problem?”

  Carrie stared at him in amazement that he would have to ask. “My problem is that I assumed I would be getting more privacy.”

  Connor frowned, wondering what could be more private than this. She had her own section, and he had his. What she did behind her closed doors was her business, like what he did behind his closed doors was his. A smirk formed at his lips when he said, “Why would you need more privacy? Do you have a tendency to walk around naked or something?”

  Her glare deepened. “You wish.”

  Yes, he did wish—Just the thought was a turn on.

  “Look, Carrie, this is business, and like I told you in the beginning, I don’t mix business and pleasure. Besides, it was your idea to come along and not mine, so stop the whining.”

  Her nostrils flared, giving him the distinct impression she hadn’t liked what he’d just said. “Whining? You’re accusing me of whining.”

  “Yes.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest, which made her already short top raised up even more, giving him an even nicer view of her belly. “I don’t whine.”

  “What do you call what you’re doing now?” he goaded sweetly.

  “I’m merely making a point.”

  “Oh, is that what you call it?” He turned and glanced around. He actually liked their room. It was set up like an apartment. In addition to the two bedrooms and living room, there was also a kitchen area with a table and chairs as well as a breakfast counter big enough for the both of them. She could stay on her side and he would stay on his. Piece of cake. “Look,” he said, “I’m going to unpack and get some shut-eye. This difference in time is a bitch. You can knock on my door and wake me for dinner in a couple of hours.”

  She stared at him like he had asked her to actually strip naked or something. “I’m not eating dinner with you. I eat alone.”