Paulette surveyed her daughter with a critical eye. “You are a little on the thin side.”
“Remember, I always gain weight during the winter.” She closed her eyes, smiling. “I have grits at least once a week from November to late March. Come April 1, I swear off grits and the weight comes off.”
Paulette was saved from asking any more questions when the waiter arrived with their dining selections. She glanced at her watch. “I have three hours before my train leaves.” She’d taken the train from Philly to New York, then from New York to D.C.
“Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll make certain you get to Union Station on time.”
Denise didn’t tell her mother that she had to go home and prepare for a fundraising event for later that evening. Although she would sit on the dais with other board members, she’d asked Rhett to accompany her.
Rhett got out of the car, handing the keyless device to the valet. He reached for the jacket to his tuxedo, slipping his arms into the sleeves, and then came around to assist Denise. When he’d arrived at her apartment to pick her up he’d found himself unable to speak. Her obligatory little black dress was exactly that—little. Strapless with an empire waist and ending several inches above her knees, it displayed an inordinate expanse of velvety brown skin. Matching silk-covered stilettos with ties wrapping around her ankles directed attention to her smooth bare legs and groomed feet.
Resting a hand at the small of her back, he pressed his mouth to her ear. “If any man looks at you sideways I’m going to kick his ass,” he said, smiling.
Denise stiffened before relaxing against his splayed fingers. “What’s this all about?”
“Your dress, or the lack of it, baby.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my dress, Rhett.”
“So you say,” he mumbled. A swell of breasts rose and fell with each breath.
They walked into the mansion where the organization dedicated to raising funds for college scholarships for disadvantaged high-school students had contracted to hold their annual dinner dance. “Denise.”
She turned when she heard her name, smiling at one of the volunteers. “Yes?”
“They want all of the board members seated on the dais now.”
Denise rested a hand on Rhett’s lapel. “I’ll see you later, baby. I told them to put you at a table close enough to the dais so I can flirt with you during the boring speeches.”
Rhett resisted the urge to laugh when Denise turned her heels and sashayed, her hips swaying sensually in the revealing dress and high heels.
“When did you and Garrett Fennell hook up again?”
Teeth clenched, Denise leaned to her left. Whoever had arranged the seating had sat her next to Trey Chambers. Good-looking, smooth-talking Trey had been blessed with the charm of a pimp seducing women into his lair and the morals of an alley cat.
“That is none of your business.”
“What I don’t want to believe is how you can take up with him again, knowing he can’t be faithful.”
“Again, that’s none of your business. Now, if you don’t take your hand off my shoulder, I’m going to hurt you.”
Trey dropped his hand. “What’s the matter, Denise? Are you afraid your boyfriend is going to say something?” His voice was so low the woman sitting on his left couldn’t overhear what he was saying. “It’s funny he never said anything when he came to my apartment and I told him we were sleeping together.”
She went completely still, unable to move even if her very life depended upon it. “What did you say?”
Trey’s eyes filled with contempt. For years he’d stood in Garrett Fennell’s shadow. There weren’t many black students at Marshall Foote Academy and for some unknown reason the instructors had always compared his grades to Garrett’s, and he’d come up short. Very, very short. He’d had to study around the clock and bust his ass while Garrett had earned As without opening a book.
It had been the same at Johns Hopkins, but things had changed when he and Garrett joined the same study group. Garrett had become his unofficial tutor, helping him when they had studied for exams and editing his papers. He’d hated Garrett as a boy and even more so as a man. He hated his confidence, smug attitude and his brilliance.
“After you found that naked girl in your goody-two-shoes boyfriend’s bed, you came running to me because I was your precious Rhett’s best friend. You kept asking me why he would sleep with her when he had you, and I told you some men are dogs like that. But you neglected to ask me the most important question, Denise.”
“I asked what I needed to ask,” she spat out. “And that was how you could hit on your best friend’s girlfriend when you knew what I’d been through.”
“Remember, Denise, you’d broken up with Garrett and because you were no longer sleeping with Garrett, I saw you as fair game.”
She rolled her eyes. “To you, any skirt is fair game.”
“Whatever works,” Trey drawled. “What I couldn’t believe was your naiveté. When I started the rumor that Garrett was sleeping around you swallowed it hook, line and sinker.” He stroked the nape of her neck. “You never asked how that hooker got into Garrett’s room,” he crooned. Denise slapped at his hand, but he tightened his grip on the back of her neck. “I made a copy of his key and gave it to her. What made the ruse so easy was you were so damned predictable. I knew you always went to Garrett’s dorm on Wednesdays, because his last class ended at six. So, when you walked in on Bubbles she gave you an award-winning performance.”
Twin emotions of rage and relief surged through Denise as she tried to process what Trey had just revealed. She’d wanted to tell him he was lying, but couldn’t. He’d set her up. He’d also set up Rhett. But why?
Grabbing her forehead, she counted to ten in an attempt to control her rising temper. She reached for her evening bag. “Don’t ever come near me or speak to me as long as you live.” Denise pushed herself in a standing position, and on trembling legs managed to make her way off the raised stage without falling. She didn’t see Trey wink at Garrett sitting at a table a short distance from the dais when he, too, stood to follow her.
Rhett, who had crossed his arms over his chest, lowered them. He’d sat silently, watching the man who at one time had been as close to him as a brother. But that all had changed when Trey told him that Denise had come to him distraught because she’d found a naked woman in his bed, and in her grief she’d asked him to make love to her and he had.
Trey had been one of the Marshall Foote students who’d gone with him on what they’d called their “panty raids.” There had been times when Trey had given him money to buy sex when he’d run short on funds. They’d become brothers in every sense of the word, swearing an oath never to hit on the other’s woman. It was easy for him to keep his promise, because once he’d begun sleeping with Denise Eaton he’d never looked at another woman.
Pushing back his chair, he wove his way through the tables set in the ballroom, stepping out into an expansive area where formally dressed couples were filing into the mansion. “Did you see where Denise Eaton went?” he asked the woman sitting at a table checking tickets against a computer printout.
She pointed to a door to her left. “She’s in there.”
Taking long strides, he reached the door and turned the knob. It opened and what he saw made his blood run cold. Trey, who’d grabbed the area between his legs, was on the carpet writhing in pain. “You bitch!” he hissed between his teeth. Tears were streaming down his face.
Denise stood over him, one hand curled into a tight fist. “I told you not to touch me!”
Rhett kicked the door shut, closing the distance between him and his childhood friend. He rested his foot on Trey’s neck. “If I ever hear you call her a bitch again I will kill you.”
Trey shuddered violently. “She kicked me in the balls.”
Leaning over, Rhett increased the pressure on the hapless man’s throat. “She had a good reason for kicking you in the balls. I’m only going
to warn you this one time—stay away from my fiancée.” He removed his foot, his eyes dancing wildly when he looked at Denise. “Let’s go!” Cupping her elbow, he led her out of the room. “Miss Eaton isn’t feeling well, so I’m taking her home,” he informed the woman at the table.
“Rhett, please slow down,” Denise pleaded when he forcibly pulled her along with him.
He gave her a warning stare. “Please, don’t say anything to me until we’re out of here.”
“Slow down now!” He shortened his strides, permitting Denise to keep up with him.
The valet seemed shocked when Rhett told him to bring his car around. He gave the young man a generous tip and peeled out of the parking lot on two wheels after he and Denise were seated and belted in.
“I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, Denise, but it has to stop. You let some man feel you up, then when you decide you’ve had enough you kick him in his groin. Do you realize I was a minute away from crushing his windpipe?”
“For your information I didn’t let him feel me up. I’d warned him if he didn’t take his hands off me what I’d do.”
“Why didn’t you just get up and change your seat?”
“I needed to hear the truth, Rhett.”
“What are you talking about?”
Denise told him everything. “What I can’t understand is why he’d felt the need to break us up.”
Rhett’s hadn’t realized he’d had a death grip on the steering wheel until he felt the tingling in his fingers, indicating he’d impeded blood flow. Never had he wanted to hurt someone as he did Trey Chambers. He’d lived for twenty-eight years without having or wanting to fight, or defend himself using his fists, but that had all changed within the time it took for Denise to relate what she’d been told.
He placed his right hand on Denise’s knee. “It’s okay, baby. I’ll take care of Trey Chambers.” What he didn’t tell her was that what he’d planned for Trey would devastate him more than a beating.
“No, Rhett. I don’t want you to take care of him.”
“What do you want?”
“I want you to leave him alone. He can’t hurt us any longer.”
Rhett chuckled despite the seriousness of the situation. “I think you hurt him enough.” He gave Denise a quick glance. “Damn, girl. You should register those stilettos as a lethal weapon.”
Denise sucked her teeth loudly. “He’s lucky I didn’t stomp on his package.”
“Ouch! Remind me never to piss you off.”
She smiled, covering the hand resting on her knee. “You don’t have to worry about that. I would like to have your babies.”
Rhett blew out a breath. “I guess that means I’m safe.”
“You’re safe as long as you don’t mess up, Garrett Mason Fennell.”
Rhett sobered. “I’m sorry you’re missing your fundraiser, because I don’t trust myself not to go back and finish what you started. I promise to send a generous donation in your name.”
“Rather than send a donation, why don’t you establish a Garrett M. Fennell college scholarship? You’re one of D.C.’s success stories, and whether you want to acknowledge it or not, you are a role model.”
“You know how I feel about that, Denise. Parents should be role models for their children, not strangers or athletes.”
“You’re preaching to the choir,” she said in a quiet voice. Geraldine said she’d wait until Rhett’s birthday to disclose his father’s identity, and Denise hoped she’d keep her promise.
Rhett turned down the street leading to Denise’s apartment building. “I know we talked about announcing our engagement on your birthday, but I’ve changed my mind. What do you say we go shopping for rings tomorrow?”
His query surprised Denise, because they’d agreed to a short engagement period. “What made you change your mind?”
“It was something my mother said about commitment. She told me if I was truly committed to you, then I should put a ring on your finger.”
“Ring or not, Rhett, I’ve always been committed to you.”
When he’d heard Denise was staying with Trey, Rhett thought she’d gone to him for emotional support. However, when Trey had opened the door wearing nothing more than a pair of briefs, proudly informing him that he’d been a fool to give Denise up because she was a freak in bed, Rhett had felt as if he’d been stabbed in the gut. Three days. It had taken only three days for her to go from his bed to the bed of his so-called best friend.
“I know that now. Can you forgive me for not staying and fighting for you?”
Denise moved as close to Rhett as the seat belt would allow her. “I forgave you a long time ago. I had to or I wouldn’t have been able to get on with my life.”
“Unfortunately, it has taken longer for me to get past the need for revenge.” He’d forgiven Denise, but didn’t believe he would ever forgive Trey. Rhett gave Denise a quick glance. “Even though you’re dressed for a night of seduction, I’d like to make a quick detour.”
“What are you doing?” She gasped when he unexpectedly executed a U-turn, the squeal of tires leaving skid marks on the roadway.
“I want to take you to see something.”
It was another twenty minutes before Denise realized what Rhett wanted her to see. He pulled up in front of a four-story town house blocks from Dupont Circle. A brass plate affixed to the front of the building identified it as housing the offices of Capital Management Properties, Ltd.
Rhett disarmed the security system, escorted her into the building and through a modern lobby with gleaming marble floors. He punched the button for the elevator for the fourth floor.
Leaning against the opposite wall in the elevator, Denise saw a glint of amusement in Rhett’s dark eyes. “You’ve done well, Garrett Fennell.”
He winked at her. “And I’ll do even better once we’re married.”
“That’s going to happen,” she said confidently.
“I know it will.” The doors opened on the fourth floor and Rhett stepped out, holding the door for Denise to follow. The tall windows were covered with butcher paper, while naked bulbs hung from the exposed ceilings. He beckoned to her. “Come, baby, and see what will be our home.”
Denise was confused. “Home?”
He took her hand, leading her around a ladder, sawhorses and other workmen tools. “The offices of CMP occupy the first three floors. This floor will be configured for personal living space. Let me show you the floor plan.”
Denise stared at the large architectural rending of what would become a four-bedroom, five-bath residence with a state-of-the-art modern kitchen, home office/library, theater and exercise room. She pointed to the master bedroom. “I like that we’ll have his and her bathrooms.” Hers would have a bidet and Rhett’s a urinal. “It looks…wonderful.”
Rhett heard the hesitation in Denise’s voice. “You don’t like it?”
“What’s not to like, Rhett?”
Reaching for her shoulders, he pulled her to his chest. “Why do I feel that you’re not on board with this? Would you prefer living somewhere else? Perhaps in northern Virginia or in one of the D.C. suburbs?”
Denise cradled his face between her hands. “Forgive me, darling, if I look as if I’m not excited about living here. Nothing could be further from the truth. I love this neighborhood. In fact, I’d tried renting an apartment in a town house around the corner, but it was too pricey for my budget.” She leaned closer, brushing a tender kiss over his firm mouth. “We’re going to have a wonderful life together. It’s large enough to entertain and have an occasional houseguest. And when daddy Fennell decides to work late he doesn’t have to concern himself with getting stuck in D.C. rush-hour traffic. All he has to do is come upstairs, have dinner with his family and then go back to the office.”
Rhett stared at Denise under lowered lids. “We can wait a couple of years before we start filling up the bedrooms with children. I know it would make your mother happy if we started right away, but
I’m going to leave that decision up to you.”
She scrunched up her nose. “Let’s wait a year. If I decide to change my mind, then it’ll be sooner rather than later.”
He lowered his head and kissed her with all of the passion he could summon at that moment. Trey’s revelation had opened the door to their past, but served to put to rest all of the doubts that had plagued him for years. Denise hadn’t slept with Trey and she knew he had been faithful to her.
The twisted cretin may have gotten by with his subterfuge for six years, but he wasn’t going to get away unscathed. Rhett would make certain of that.
Chapter 15
Denise sat on her bed, legs crossed in a yoga position, with the cordless phone anchored between her chin and shoulder. “I don’t care about your belly. I want you in my wedding party.”
“I’m going to look like a beach ball in a gown,” Chandra argued softly.
“What am I going to do, Chandra? Zabrina probably will have delivered just before Christmas, so she’ll be recuperating. The only one I can count on is Belinda. I still have to call Mia to see if she’ll be available—providing she doesn’t get pregnant, too.”
“Mia’s not even dating anyone, so I doubt if she’s going to get pregnant. You definitely can count on Belinda and Mia. Zabrina is questionable, and my due date is January twenty-eighth, give or take a week. If I go into labor and spoil your wedding Aunt Paulette will never speak to me again.”
“Don’t worry about my mother. I’ll handle her. And even if you do go into labor, there will be enough doctors in attendance to deliver your baby.”
“Bite your tongue, Denise Amaris Eaton. I will not have my father delivering my baby.”
Denise laughed softly. “Let’s hope you don’t have to eat your words. But seriously, Chandra, I want you to be my matron of honor. I haven’t begun looking at gowns, but I’ll probably choose one with an empire waistline, so your gown will be similar to mine. We can have a Jane Austen–inspired wedding.”
Twice the Temptation Page 16
