by J. A. Coffey
He glowered, and she laughed. Really, with all the chaos, she had forgotten they were supposed to be at incredible hate-filled odds over the inheritance. Refreshingly forgotten. Especially whenever Darius held her in his arms. Then, all that mattered was his next kiss, his next smile. All else came in a pretty accessorizing package.
Her smile turned more approachable and she leaned forward. "Okay, seriously, what are you going to do?"
He gave her a steady glaring smirk before grinning at her, then popped the rest of his doughnut into his mouth. "After buying you a killer wardrobe- complete with a bikini- I thought I'd take you to someplace like the French Riviera." He shot her a wicked grin. "The old bastard will never find us there."
Chapter Twenty-Five
Breakfast had been a surprisingly relaxed affair, considering not only the topics they covered, but also the fact she'd never spent time with a man while clothed only in a t-shirt.
Focusing on her time with Darius helped her forget the reason why her naked butt was parked here in the first place.
"Want to walk the gardens?" Darius asked, indicating the rose bushes with his coffee mug.
Gazing out the window brought back a rush of memories. The gardens lay behind the lawn where she and Darius had first danced. And there, just over the Rose of Sharon, Jess could see the telescope. "Shouldn't we be getting ready to leave?" But then she remembered she had no bra or underwear to wear, only a freshly laundered shirt and jeans upstairs to accompany her bare feet.
He glanced at the clock. "It's only 8:45. Stores won't open until ten."
She swallowed her shame. "I don't even have shoes."
"I'll let you borrow a pair of mine." At her dubious expression, he said, "It's only for a half-hour."
Defeat won over at that moment. Her home, her clothes, her furniture, her computer, photos, mementos, trinkets, hell, even her pets' favorite toys were forever gone. Irreversibly gone. "I know. I just feel so...lost. Empty."
"I know, babe. Come here." He came to her side and pulled her up to hold her, and Jess gripped him as the tears came down, bathing her in the futility of her situation. He held her as she sobbed, letting the desperation of her circumstances have free rein on her emotions.
She had heard of wonderful, loving and supportive men, but had never met one outside of her father.
It hit her, right then and there.
Darius really was the one.
And she had absolutely nothing to offer him- not even a home-cooked meal- ever again.
She sniffled her way back to sanity as she surreptitiously reached up to wipe her cheeks.
Darius led her to the sink, where he wet down a cold towel for her and found a box of tissues. She felt so touched by his gesture she wobbled a smile. "Okay, you win. Where are those shoes?"
Five minutes later they eased through the flowing bushes, now overgrown with weeds and saplings. Towie sniffed and ambled and flopped in the grass, his happy tongue visible from afar. She noted he was still too sore or drugged to leap up and chase off a nearby squirrel. Darius swung her by one arm, arching her wide across the overgrown lawn before reeling her close along his chest. He leaned back, drawing her up along him, and her shoes plopped off.
"I'm barefoot."
He grinned and kicked off his loafers as he set her down. "Me, too. And don't forget naked." He winked, drew her in for a kiss, then held her close for a waltz. She felt the chill morning air on her bare bottom and made to tug down her hem, but Darius growled a contented little noise, and she decided no one could see her.
Only Darius could make her happy in his arms, despite her burned-out home, her dividing job, her utter loss of sanity. He hummed and hummed, and Jess banged into his bare feet over and over as she stumbled on the rough grass. "I'm really no good at dancing." She tripped on his toes.
"Okay, okay, you win." He hobbled on one foot, making far more of a deal than it warranted, only stopping when she smirked at him. "I'm sure you want your shoes on, now." He bent down and eased her feet into his oversized loafers. "Cinderella did eventually marry her prince," he whispered up to her.
She softened at the gesture, and he led her up a paved walkway, now overgrown with moss. "These lead to little lovers' pockets, as Ollie called them." The path dodged left and back right around a bush, practically obscuring the entrance from where they stood. "They look like dead ends at a glance. As a teen I used to see who went off with whom."
Jess gasped. "You spied on them? Like a voyeur?"
He grinned. "More like an entrepreneur. Keeping track for future blackmailing purposes." He pantomimed writing in a log book. "Never had the opportunity, unfortunately. I must be too well liked."
She crossed her arms in mock reproach. "How sad for you. The lost opportunity, I mean."
He gave her a jaunty grin. "Not merely as sad as Mr. Gutenheim. His wife went off with three different men in the same night."
She winced. "Ouch."
"I know."
Jess looked around at the wall of hedgerow. Thick leaves helped block sounds, making her feel as if she and Darius were all alone in the woods. Heady scents of moss and rich dirt eased her mind, and Darius' kiss soothed the tension from her muscles.
He bent her backwards in a dip, and Jess' body submitted. And when he laid her down to cover her, she felt no need to complain. His weight did not bother her, nor did his rhythmic rubbing. She felt his erection as he maneuvered above her, and she felt transported with the sensation. This was what it felt like, she now knew, to be worshiped and cherished by a man.
He leaned back, his hardness grinding against her bare aching genitals. "I have to stop." He rolled off her, looking pasty and tortured and breathing heavily. "God, Jess, what you do to me. And knowing you're naked under that t-shirt is frigging torture."
Based on her own reaction, she thought she knew what he meant. Her body felt tense and unfulfilled, craving something she couldn't name. "I'm sorry." She sat up and gripped her shirt, as if doing so would make a bra and panties appear.
"Don't apologize. Don't you dare apologize," he grinned. "I would suffer this daily if it meant having you in my life."
She frowned. "Suffer? Am I making you suffer?"
His wide grin eased her worries. "Exquisitely." But he kissed her anyway, pulling away after a leisurely moment. "Alright, let's go, my mossy maiden." He plucked a twig from her hair and planted another kiss on her cheek. "I think I should whisk you off to a clothing store first. I've always been told nothing puts a woman in a better state of mind than retail therapy."
Chapter Twenty-Six
"Oh my God, Cookie, where have you been? Where are you? I saw the headline in the newspaper and when I drove by your house I couldn't believe it. Where are you? Are you okay? What about Puppy and Pussies? Did you all make it out? Are you hurt? Do you need me to come get you? Where are you?"
Seriously, all Jess had said into the cell was, "Hello." She felt so emotionally exhausted that she merely held the phone at arm's length until she heard Jeremy come up for air.
"I'm with Darius. We're okay. The pets are okay. We just got back from shopping."
She heard Jeremy light up. "Shopping? For clothes? He really took you shopping? Like, as a willing participant?"
She grinned at Darius beside her in his car. "As in, he told the staff about my situation, and they parked me in a changing room and brought in a parade of outfits and shoes for me for three straight hours."
"Did you model them for him?"
"Some. Well, most. It was very much like Pretty Woman."
Jeremy's voice turned snide. "Except for that whole prostitution thing."
"Yeah." She glared into the phone. "Except for that."
She heard Jeremy sigh. "They wound up together, you know that, right?"
The man would never let this go. Darius could probably hear the entire conversation, for he shot her a bemused grin from behind the wheel.
"Yes, oh sagely one. I've seen the movie."
"Abou
t a hundred times."
She made no comment.
"Where are you staying, Toots?"
"With Darius for now, until I can see about my house." She watched Darius as she said it, wondering about his long-term intentions. She noticed his lips tighten, and wondered exactly what he was thinking.
"Wonderful. Perfect. Where can we meet? I can give you back your phone now."
She gasped in shock, fully understanding his unspoken words. "Oh, so now I can have my phone back? Now that I'm staying with Darius?"
He was slightly catty when he asked, "Have you slept with him yet?"
Yes, Darius could definitely hear Jeremy, based on that grin. Rather than go into more painful details of dejection, she countered with, "Why, are you jealous?"
"Perhaps."
She looked at Darius and loudly proclaimed, "Jeremy wants to sleep with you."
That made Darius choke as Jeremy wailed in outrage, "I am a married man, missy."
"Who's got the hots for Darius," she charged.
He huffed in retort, and she could just envision his face getting all red and flustered. "One little round of sex and you think you're entitled to the most eligible bachelor in history."
"You should have waited." She winked at a brooding Darius as she continued her taunt. "Maybe he would have changed teams for you."
Darius shot her a dark look, which made her laugh. "We're going back to Ollie's place. I'm going to have to wash and dry all these clothes. How about five o'clock?"
Darius tapped her knee and took his eyes off the road to give her a warm glance. "Make it six, and he can stay for dinner."
Jeremy's tone dropped. "Oh, you need four hours to do laundry? What...pray tell...are you going to do while you're naked? Hmm?"
Her cheeks got hot, and she felt herself gnawing on her lower lip, which only made Darius choke on his laugh. "I'm hanging up now."
"Thought so. I called your work and talked to Arthur. He'd seen the paper, and your staff said if they have any problems they'll call. Otherwise, don't worry, they got your back."
She slumped in her seat, defeated and deflated. "Jeez. I totally forgot to call."
A car eased up beside them to pass, just like all the others in a hurry to get back from lunch. Darius hadn't paid attention to any of them, but something about this one made him glance over and over, and when the black Dodge Durango pulled even with him to pass, the repressed memory of his accident came flooding back. He whipped over to the curb, slammed on his brakes, and sent both he and Jess straining against their seat belts.
She looked over at him, concerned and almost panicked as they sat there on the shoulder while the SUV drove by without changing pace or lanes. "Jer, I'm going to have to call you back." She flipped shut her phone, eyes never leaving Darius, her frown firmly in place.
His heart pounded like a six minute brawl. His mouth had gone dry, but his hands sweated so fiercely he slipped on the wheel, despite his white-knuckled grip.
The officer was right; he had definitely been run off the road.
Bumped from behind, slammed sideways, and driven straight into a ditch. It took seeing a Durango again for every second of his misery to return to him in a rush.
He heaved breath after breath, felt his eyes water.
Someone had tried to kill him.
He found himself panting harder, felt his vision swim.
Someone had tried to kill him.
A light touch on his forearm made him slump back into his seat.
"Sweetie?"
One large breath helped slow his heart. The next ones helped even more. He swallowed, dry and hard, then forced saliva to his tongue to swallow again. When he felt he could look over and speak, he met Jess' worried eyes. "My father's the one who tried to kill me."
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Officer Dillwright's desk sat on the outskirts of the main hub, closest to the chaos of the main lobby, where all the newest members of the force earned their keep. People buzzed past, a few drunks screamed in outrage as they resisted arrest, and Jess and Darius both tried their damnedest to focus above the din.
"So," Officer Dillwright said, flipping though his note pad to a fresh page, "Why do you think your father is our suspect?"
"Where's Tim?" Jess really wanted someone with a lot of experience on the case, but tried to keep the question light to not irritate William.
"His kid twisted his ankle in soccer. Tim's at the hospital with him." His answer was almost rote, and Jess had a moment to infer he'd been asked that particular question all day long.
She really didn't think William had the experience to be taking on this case, but it looked like they didn't have any choice. He repeated to Darius, "Why do you think your father is our suspect?"
Darius leaned back, hands folded on his stomach, feet crossed. "I can think of eighteen million reasons why. But I can guarantee he never dirtied his hands on this. He knows too many people, rich people, dirty people, probably pulled a few strings to see me removed from the inheritance."
Jess frowned at his number. Did she hear him right?
Dillwright scratched away on his pad. "And how much was this inheritance for?"
Darius leaned back in his chair, his expression clearly wondering if the man was just sitting there doodling. His accent became pronounced when he answered, "Eighteen million."
Jess' mouth actually parted open. "Eighteen?"
"Dollars?" The cop looked up.
Obviously irritated at not being taken seriously, Darius retorted, "Not pigeons."
Dillwright scowled, and bent back over his pad. "And you think your father would try to run you off the road?"
Hardness that Jess had not known now resided in those dark eyes. "I know he would pay someone to run me off the road."
She watched Dillwright flip back and forth in his notepad before asking, "And you think that is somehow connected to the fire at Ms. Swan's house?"
"Well," Darius plopped his ankle on his knee and seemed to get more comfortable. But one look at his taut expression, his rigid muscles, his clipped British tones, told Jess that he was anything but. "If we look at it logically, my father knew about the inheritance before I did. He knew while I was in the hospital, being treated from the vehicular assault. I didn't even find out until I was being discharged. Then, in a drunken rage, he kicks me out of his house, where I've been staying for the past week or so, at his express invitation. The night I stay at Jess', the house catches fire. By an arsonist. Coincidence?"
Dillwright looked back and forth between them. "You two are dating?"
"She's my girlfriend, yes."
His response seemed to vibrate with protectiveness. Jess frankly liked how he punctuated each word, just in case Dillwright tried to make any moves, she guessed. She looked at him then, but Darius just tightened his lips. He must have sensed the woe-is-me boy-cop who would never be taken seriously as dating material by Jess, since she had babysat him as a youth.
She could tell the fact she was dating a hunky Brit ate away at him.
Dillwight looked to Jess, almost accusatory in his manner. "That true?"
She blinked at Darius, watching him and liking what she saw very much. "Yes, it is."
There it was, the jaw-tensing of a jaded boy. "Well, I don't know if we have enough to go on, here. It's all hearsay."
Jess gasped and stood up, just a millisecond before Darius had. "William, what more do you think you need? We have motive and opportunity. Are you not capable of this case? Should I get a more experienced officer? Or do we need a detective?"
Darius seemed to wince at Jess' verbal slap to the officer's face. Dillwright darkened, slammed his note pad shut, and said, "I'll take a drive over there, bring him down for questioning. Okay?"
Jess smiled, bright and cheerful. "That would be perfect."
"Yes, it would be," Darius added, sounding equally cheerful. "He's a crusty old bastard, and he'll give you an awful time. You may need a dart gun to bring him in."
Again, no emotion from the officer, but Jess could tell he was glad she laughed.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Jeremy came over to Darius' house for dinner, and afterwards, brought life to the great hall in his own strange fashion. He brought giant vases of flowers and helium balloons and placed and tied them on every object in the room, making Darius groan at all the cleaning up he would have to do tomorrow. Then Jeremy unrolled his floor mat for Twister and insisted on playing.
Darius stood over the mat and considered it, tapping his lip in thought. "So, let me get this straight. Someone spins that dial, and then we crawl around the floor like animals to pose on a color? Why does this not appeal to me?"
"I'm going to need a lot more beer, Jer-Bear," Jess intoned. "I'm not really in any mood to do a backward arch just now."
"Okay," Jeremy agreed but he pouted nonetheless. "I also brought Parchisi and Uno and movies and microwave popcorn if you're not up to games. What would you two like?"
Darius knew what he'd like, but he had already voted against his own wishes for now, so he kept his mouth closed. It didn't change his answer, though, voiced or not.
Jess studied him for a moment, looking empty and bereft. "How about a hug?"
"Oh, Cookie," Jeremy crooned, and he waddled towards Jess like a penguin with his wings flapping out. "Of course." Darius smiled as Jeremy gave her a girl hug, elbows down, hands to shoulders. Next he turned to Darius. "Do you need one, too, hunky?"
Darius could only back up, hands in the air, smiling his regrets. "I'm good, thanks."
