Heavenly Match

by Niobia Bryant

  The red of her car widened in his view as she began to back down the driveway. Not wanting to miss this opportunity, he curled his fingers around the trigger. Panting deeply, he focused on his target as he slowly removed the gun. His heart doubled its pounding. His face became twisted with rage, con­torted with hate. His lips curled into a sneer.

  “I feel like Italian, how ‘bout you?”

  Surprised by voices suddenly behind him, he quickly and awkwardly rammed the gun back into his pocket. Looking over his shoulder briefly, he saw a young couple exiting the house he stood in front of.

  His crazed eyes followed Anika’s car out of sight. “Not this time, but soon. Very soon,” he threatened as he walked up the block.

  ∞

  “This is a damn mess.”

  Anika absolutely hated driving in New York, but she needed her car to commute to work. She definitely was not feeling public transportation at all, no matter the supposed benefits. So she sat in her car lis­tening to Mary tearing up “Share My World” and moving slower than a snail at half its slowest speed.

  She’d left directly from a luncheon fund-raiser benefiting The Haven for her house, barely taking time to gather the luggage she had packed earlier, before she headed to NYC. She was tired as all get out, but her excitement over seeing Chloe definitely outweighed her fatigue.

  “Chloe’s going to have a baby.” Anika sighed, as she crept the car forward a foot in the traffic before stopping again.

  They would definitely go shopping for her soon-to-be godchild. He, or she, would be one beautiful baby with Chloe’s lovely features and Devon’s devastating good looks.

  It really was sinful for one man to look so good. Okay, two men, Anika amended, thinking yet again of Devon’s identical twin, Deshawn. The player, the charmer, the womanizer, the heartbreaker, and most importantly . . . the one to stay away from.

  Fixed his little behind, she thought, recalling their memorable first meeting.

  It wasn’t that Anika disliked Deshawn; in fact she had found him to be funny and charming at the reception, when he wasn’t on her trail in heated pursuit. The man was a rascal. A gorgeous, brick-solid, masculine man’s man with enough raw sex appeal to scorch the sun, but still a womanizing ras­cal nonetheless.

  Thankfully, he was one hundred miles away in South Carolina and she was here in the big NYC. On those rare occasions that she visited Chloe and Devon, they had not met up. Thank the heavens for small favors.

  Anika pulled up to the entrance of the underground parking area of Chloe and Devon’s building. She typed in Chloe’s pin with a manicured finger and waited patiently as the metal gate slowly rolled up to permit her entrance. She accelerated, eventually pulling into one of Chloe’s assigned parking spot.

  There hadn’t been any messages on her answering machine when she stopped by her house. With her cell phone on the fritz from an unexpected tumble into the commode last night and being unable to check the messages at her office, Anika could only hope Chloe and Devon had already arrived.

  She grabbed her purse, deciding to leave the overstuffed garment bag in the trunk. It was a little presumptuous of her, but the one piece of luggage was a little weighty and she planned on asking Devon to retrieve it.

  The heels of her Gucci boots echoed throughout the silent concrete parking area as she stepped onto the elevator. She passed a middle-aged couple just as they were exiting. When she turned to face the slowly closing doors, Anika saw the man glance back over his shoulder at her with inquisitive interest. Yeah, right, she thought, as she pushed the button marked lobby.

  As a security measure, the elevator only went one flight up to the main floor so that the doorman could ensure that only those who were permitted entered the exclusive Central Park West building. The thirty-floor granite structure was home to many of the most affluent families. Every bit of the structure spoke of wealth.

  Anika felt the whole process of signing in was a bit of a pain as she prepared to square off with Harrison, the strictly-by-the-book doorman. She eyed the short, portly man with a receding hairline and an expanding waistline. The man knew who she was and still he insisted on harassing her to show identification. It was like he thought it was the Pentagon or something, instead of an apartment building filled with people who lived, breathed, and put their pants on one leg at a time just as she did. To Anika wealth didn’t mean superiority, because money was just as easily lost as it was obtained.

  She was glad that Chloe’s prosperity and fame had never gone to her head. Okay, her best friend was a little aware of her beauty, but she was so down-to-earth and so in tune to her simple upbringing that Anika sometimes forgot that Chloe ranked among the celebrity set. Never once had she turned her back on Anika. And never once had Anika used Chloe’s fortune and fame for her own means. Their sista-friend bond was above all that drama.

  “Hi there, Harrison,” she sang cheerily, walking up behind him. The parking area’s elevator let out beside his opulent booth.

  “Ms. Foxx,” he said shortly, already pushing the leather-bound sign-in book toward her as she leaned insolently on the counter.

  They eyed each other long and hard. Her russet eyes to his blue. Neither wanted to lose the small battle. Alas, Anika was ready for a chilled glass of mimosa and wanted to get out of her killer boots, so she conceded. “Today’s your lucky day,” she told him succinctly with a smile, as she removed her driver’s license from her Coach billfold. “But be ready next time.”

  “I will, madam.”

  “I just hope one of these bigwigs doesn’t decide to kill off a relative for insurance money or something,” Anika told him, as she signed the register with exaggerated flare and placed her ID back in her wallet. “Now my name’s logged in and I could become a suspect for killing off some fruit loop I don’t even know. You know what I mean?”

  “Yes, madam.”

  Anika sighed heavily at his stern disposition.

  “Come on, Harrison . . . smile. This isn’t the White House. You won’t get fired,” she cajoled, flashing him a grin that could brighten up midnight. “I swear your face won’t break.”

  Anika waited and stared him down, his face remaining nonchalant. Nothing. She just shook her head. “Okay, fine. One day somebody’s gonna give you an enema.”

  With that she strolled over to the main elevator. Suddenly, she froze. She could have sworn she heard him laugh shortly, but when she turned around his face was still imperturbable as he picked up the phone.

  “Yes, Mr. Jamison? Ms. Foxx is on her way up,” she heard him say.

  “Bye, Harrison,” Anika sang out, just as the elevator doors closed behind her.

  It was a short ride to the fifth floor and when Anika stepped onto the Persian-carpeted hallway floor, Chloe’s ornately carved door was already open. She breezed in, her heels clicking against the marbled floor of the foyer. She eyed Devon walking out from the sunken living room. “Hey, handsome,” she said with a smile as she moved to hug him briefly. “Where’s my girl?”

  He wrapped one strong arm around her waist to hug her back. “In the bedroom. She asked me to let you in.”

  Anika moved to step back but he wrapped the other arm of steel around her waist and easily pulled her shapely frame closer to mold to the hard contours of his body. Shocked and angry as her best friend’s husband mauled her, Anika used both of her hands to press against his hard unrelenting chest. “If you don’t get the hell off me! Fool, what’s wrong with you?” she shrieked angrily, her eyes blazing.

  Anika yelled out, trying desperately to free herself from his unyielding grasp. “You’re just as bad as your brother,” she spat, as she beat him about the chest, shoulders, and back with her fists.

  At that he truly roared with laughter that rumbled deep in his chest, before lowering his head to kiss her soundly and quickly on the lips.

  “Put her down!” Chloe shrieked.

  “I’m going to enjoy having you,” he whispered into her ear, before planting a kiss
there.

  Anika’s head swung around to look into Chloe’s and Devon’s faces. If that was Devon, then this was . . . Deshawn! As soon as he released her, she swung strongly and slapped his handsome face twice before he could even blink. “You are so ignorant,” she whispered harshly.

  “You, my little darling, have the softest body I have ever had the pleasure of holding,” Deshawn an­swered, rubbing his cheek with his palm even as he grinned broadly. “I look forward to the next occa­sion.”

  “Oh, go to hell,” Anika told him with emphasis, before turning to face Chloe. “Is he staying here too?”

  Anika crossed her arms over her ample bosom as her best friend nodded. “Lawd, quit,” she said in a hushed tone, filled with dread.

  “I tried to call and tell you about the last-minute change but you—”

  “Can I holla at you alone, Chloe?”

  The women walked into the stylish master suite together. “Girl, this is not a good idea, in case you haven’t noticed,” Anika began as soon as the door closed behind Chloe.

  “Deshawn’s harmless—” Chloe began, but the astonished look on Anika’s face froze the rest of her words in her throat. She swallowed them down. All the beauty could do was smile weakly.

  ∞

  “You wanna catch a rape charge in New York?” Devon asked his brother, reprimand heavy in his deep-timbered voice.

  “Chill, Dev—” Deshawn began, his handsome face a look of innocence as he raised both of his hands.

  “No, you chill. This ain’t Holtsville. Nobody knows you or gives a damn about you. You cannot go around groping women whenever you feel like it.” Devon stepped forward to stand nose to nose with his twin, his usually brooding eyes even more serious.

  “I hope you came along to shop like you said and not to stalk Anika.”

  Deshawn did not back down from his twin’s anger. “I’m not a pervert,” he said, his voice hard and defensive.

  Devon arched a mocking brow. “Then stop acting like one!”

  Twin pairs of obsidian eyes squared off with Deshawn showing a rare moment of anger at being called down by his equal. They stood like that for long, tense moments.

  “From what Chloe has told me in the past, Anika isn’t a woman to take lightly. Don’t call me if she breaks your jaw,” Devon finished with a hint of humor, lightening the mood.

  Deshawn instantly smiled broadly and his face brightened. “She’s one helluva woman, isn’t she?”

  Just then Chloe’s bedroom door opened and the women emerged. Devon cast Deshawn a meaningful stare before they both turned to face the ladies. And what a pair they were: Chloe with her slender, graceful beauty and Anika with a voluptuous appeal that drew men in search of a real woman to love. Both striking nonetheless.

  Deshawn felt himself drawn to Anika as he massaged her boldly with his raven-black eyes. She appealed to all of his innate desires as a man. His senses became clouded by a sharp wave of desire. At his twin’s nudge he stepped forward, his hand extended. “I apologize, Anika. Whenever I’m around you I lose my head,” he said, his voice deep with sincerity.

  At first Anika looked down at his extended hand as if it were a vile snake, but at Chloe’s subtle nudge from behind she accepted it. “You, Mr. Jamison, have a lot to learn about winning a woman . . . and kissing,” Anika told him, her eyes daring as she met his bold look.

  With that she quickly removed her hand from his grasp and headed down the hall, to the room she always used on her visits. She was anxious to be alone to sort out spending the next week in New York with Deshawn around.

  “So do you, Ms. Foxx.”

  Those deeply spoken words caused Anika to freeze in her tracks. She turned on the heels of her boots, her face a mask of surprise. At the smug look on his handsome face, she retraced her steps to him with a sexy swagger that emphasized her shapely hips and thighs.

  Deshawn enjoyed the display as every minute movement of her body accentuated her raw sexual appeal. It was hard to ignore in the sultry chocolate leather pantsuit that clung to her curves like a second skin.

  Anika stepped close to him, until their bodies were just a hairbreadth apart. Heated mocha eyes met smoky ebony. She raised her chin, bringing her face closer to his, her lips closer to his supple mouth.

  Deshawn anticipated it and lowered his head to receive the luscious blessing sooner.

  Just an eighth of an inch from his supple mouth Anika paused. “If I cannot kiss, then why are you standing here dying for a chance to do it again?” Her voice was low, soft, intimate, and mocking. Again.

  Deshawn jerked his eyes open and raised his head at the words that he felt softly whisper against his mouth, only to see her retreating statuesque figure laughing softly as she entered her bedroom. Right then, as his family looked on, he felt as useless as a penny at a five-cent yard sale. He decided not just to have her but to make her beg him for more.

  ∞

  Anika stretched her limbs, unfolding her legs from beneath her where she sat at the mahogany desk in her bedroom. The sounds of the city, alive and vibrant even at midnight, echoed in the room through the window she had left ajar for fresh air.

  Unable to take any more of Deshawn’s relentless flirting, Anika had retired to her room right after dinner. That had been four hours ago and she was feeling more than a little “lunchy,” as they called it in South Carolina. Her stomach grumbled loudly to accentuate that very point. Rising from her seat, Anika grabbed her robe from the footboard of the sleigh bed, slipping it over her nightgown as she left the room.

  With the total darkness of the apartment Anika assumed that everyone was asleep as she made her way to the kitchen. She found a barrel of chocolate chip and walnut ice cream in the Sub-Zero freezer, which was large enough to equip a small restaurant. After grabbing a silver tablespoon from a drawer, Anika slid onto one of the six stools surrounding the marble island in the center of the room.

  Since they were little girls, chocolate had been Anika’s and Chloe’s comfort during trying times. During a really low point in Chloe and Devon’s relationship, the two women had gone through eight pint-sized buckets of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream. She could remember a period in her own life when she packed on nearly twenty pounds trying to eat her way to happiness.

  All these years later and I still haven’t found peace, she thought, displeased by her inability to sleep because of her foolish nightmares.

  On top of that, her thoughts were also filled with her client Tara. Thinking of her, Anika knew she could lose herself in the entire contents of the tub of dessert. The nineteen-year-old mother of a two-year- old daughter named Kimani was in an abusive relationship that she wasn’t altogether sure she wanted out of. Tara wouldn’t press charges, nor would she abide by the rules of her restraining order against her boyfriend.

  She had permitted her abusive ex back into her life and her home. All she received in return was another brutal beating for it. Anika was at a loss as to how to handle the situation properly. She wanted to help the young girl but she didn’t want to scare her away from the assistance she so obviously needed.

  At least they were safe at The Haven. Anika planned to talk to Tara as much as she could to make her understand that she was far too precious to be beat upon like a dog. Next time one of his fits could be fatal.

  Sighing, Anika was surrounded by the cool darkness as she continued to indulge in her late night snack. Too bad Chloe’s asleep, I could really use someone to talk to.

  “Can’t sleep, gorgeous?”

  Taken by surprise, Anika dropped her spoon on the marble countertop. She swiveled in her seat to eye Deshawn just as he flipped the switch to bask the room with bright fluorescent light. Anika’s round eyes widened farther at the sight of him. Slowly, from head to toe, she studied him, just as she was sure he wanted her to.

  Deshawn was so obviously naked beneath the cotton top sheet carelessly flung around his hard-muscled waist. With one strong hand he held the two ends together loosely. The fa
bric threatened to slip from his grasp at any second, exposing every intimate bit of him.

  His body seemed chiseled and smooth as sleek as granite. His broad shoulders, hard chest, and rigid abdomen hinted at his strength. Smooth, flat hairs covered his upper body, narrowing above his six-pack before disappearing beneath a sheet that did very little to hide his narrow hips, strong muscled thighs, and a male member that hung long and thick, pressing so clearly against the thin material.

  Anika admitted that the goods looked appealing, but that didn’t mean she was interested. Because she wasn’t. Quickly composing herself, she took a deep, cleansing breath. “Did I wake you?” she asked with obvious doubt, picking up her spoon.

  Deshawn looked her boldly in the eye, lost in a wave of mocha. A grin spread across his face. “Yeah,” he answered softly, as if suddenly enlightened to some fact. “Wanna help put me back to sleep?”

  Expecting just that type of roguish comment, Anika rolled her eyes and nodded slowly. “Sure. I’ll help,” she said, immediately rising to walk over to where he leaned back against the wall.

  Deshawn wasn’t falling for her trap again, so he said nothing, but he steeled himself for anything. The woman was absolutely capricious.

  Anika strolled to him, as if to mold her body to his, but instead reached next to him to hit the light switch, sending the room back into ebony darkness. “Nothing makes you sleepy like being alone by yourself in the dark,” she said huskily over her shoulder as she left the room.

  Deshawn laughed, but he wasn’t letting her get away that easy with one of her dramatic wisecrack exits this time. He turned, flinging the ends of the sheet behind him. “Oh, no, you don’t,” he said, dashing past her to block her speedy entrance into her bedroom.

  Anika jerked her body back to keep from making contact with his muscled chest. “Yes, Deshawn?” she asked, still smiling from how she outsmarted him yet again.

  “You like to come off all strong and independent when deep down you’re scared.”