by Pamela Yaye
“I’m the fortunate one.” Dionne stood, sat down on his lap and draped her arms around his neck. She’d never felt more connected to anyone, and wondered if they could have a strong, lasting relationship. He protected her, cared for her, and she wanted Immanuel for more than just a night. “You saved my life, and I’m forever in your debt.”
His expression softened, and his hold tightened around her waist. His baby blues were irresistible, and so was his smile. Dionne lowered her mouth and tasted his lips. Lust shot through her veins, ricocheted through her body. He caressed her arms and neck, playfully brushing his nose against hers. She didn’t have the courage to tell Immanuel what was in her heart, so she communicated her feelings with her lips.
“I wanted to tell you sooner about my past, but I didn’t know how,” he confessed, breaking off the kiss. “I was embarrassed about what happened with the ambassador’s wife, and I thought if I told you the truth you’d want nothing to do with me.”
Dionne held his gaze. “You thought wrong.”
“I’m glad I did.”
A family of five with two rambunctious toddlers walked by, and Immanuel stared at them. Dionne saw the longing in his eyes, his sad smile, and wondered what was on his mind. “Would you like to have a family of your own one day?”
“If you had asked me that question five years ago, I would have laughed out loud, but I’ve had a change of heart. My cousins, Demetri, Nicco and Rafael, have all married beautiful, successful women, and I get jealous whenever I’m around them.” Immanuel took her hands in his, holding them tight in his grasp. “What about you? Would you ever consider getting remarried?”
“Immanuel, I’ve been divorced twice.”
“What does that have to do with anything? Your past doesn’t dictate your future.”
“I’m unlucky in love, and after two failed marriages I realize it’s just not for me,” she answered with a shrug. “That’s why I’m going to focus on my business and building my brand.”
“You’re being too hard on yourself. You’re an incredible woman and any man would be proud to call you his wife.” Immanuel kissed the tip of her nose and ran his fingers through her hair. “I know I would.”
Her skin prickled from his touch. He slid his tongue inside her mouth, swirled it around, and she pressed her body against his. Caught up in the moment, she yielded to the needs of her flesh, kissed him until she was hot, breathless and dizzy. “Think we have time for a quickie before our flight?” she asked, stroking the back of his neck.
Immanuel squeezed her thighs. “Baby, we’ll make time.”
Chapter 18
“I had a great time with you this weekend.” Immanuel picked up Dionne’s hand, raised it to his mouth and kissed her palm. “When you get back from Venice, I’m taking you to this quaint and cozy bed-and-breakfast in Savannah. It’s ridiculously beautiful. Just like you.”
His words made her feel sad and excited at the same time. If you want to spend time with me, then come to Italy! Sharleen and Emilio’s wedding was in two weeks, but despite her best efforts, Immanuel was dead set against attending the three-day celebration. “I’d love that,” she said, gazing into his deep blue eyes. “It sounds romantic.”
“We’re going to have the time of our lives,” he promised.
They were standing in the airport parking garage, leaning against the hood of Immanuel’s sports car, and Dionne couldn’t wait until they got to her house so that they could make love. “Immanuel, I don’t care where we go or what we do, as long as we are together.”
He kissed her then with incredible tenderness, and she melted into his arms. His lips were her weakness, so potent her ears tingled and her thoughts scattered. He held her tight, as if he was desperate for her, and lovingly stroked her skin. Immanuel was confident, refined and sophisticated. And he wanted her. It was a heady feeling, one that filled her with pride and boosted her confidence. He was always teaching her things, treated her with warmth, kindness and respect. When they were together nothing else mattered.
A car horn beeped, breaking the spell, and Immanuel ended the kiss. He helped Dionne inside the car, jogged around to the driver’s-side door, and got in. Immanuel put on his seat belt, and then started the engine. Stepping on the gas, he sped through the parking garage and exited Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta airport.
Dionne had napped during the flight from Seattle, and now she was wide-awake and ready to hang out with her man. The words echoed in her mind. My man! I love the sound of that, she thought, admiring his handsome profile. And I love the way he makes me feel. He is, without a doubt, the sweetest man I’ve ever met, and he’ll always be my hero.
“You’re spending the night at my place.”
His hand climbed up her thigh, tickled her skin, and Dionne giggled.
“I’ll drive you to the TV station in the morning, and pick you up when you’re done. We’ll have lunch, then play hooky for the rest of the day. Sound like a plan?”
“You don’t even have to ask. I’d love to.”
Ten minutes later, they arrived in Brookhaven and stopped at the local grocery store. Immanuel bought snacks, wine and a movie, but Dionne doubted they’d end up watching the new romantic comedy. They’d had a quickie in her hotel suite before heading for the airport, but Dionne wasn’t satisfied. If anything their lovemaking left her wanting more. Desperate for him, she couldn’t wait to get him out of his clothes and into her bed. The thought aroused her, and a grin overwhelmed her mouth. “Can we stop at my place on the way to your house?” she asked, opening her Gucci handbag in search of her house keys. “I need to grab something to wear for tomorrow, but it won’t take long.”
“Of course, baby. Anything for you.”
Immanuel flashed his trademark grin, a smile so dreamy it made her heart dance.
“Keep talking like that and I may never leave your house.”
“Works for me. I love the idea of coming home to you every night.”
Dionne was shocked, but she didn’t let her feelings show. The thought of setting up house with Immanuel, a man she’d known for not even a couple months, should have terrified her, but it didn’t. Last night, after making love, they’d had an emotional heart-to-heart talk. Immanuel made her feel so safe and secure, Dionne wanted to be with him forever.
Immanuel parked in the driveway and got out of the car. He opened the trunk, grabbed her overnight bag and wrapped an arm around her waist. Dionne loved that he was always kissing and touching her, and couldn’t wait to get him inside her house.
“Your house in complete darkness,” he said. “You should have left some lights on.”
“Sorry, Dad, I forgot.”
Immanuel slapped her bottom. “That’s Big Daddy to you.”
Dionne screamed in laughter. She liked their playful banter and enjoyed kidding around with him. Immanuel was protective of her and overreacted at times, but she didn’t mind.
“I’ll go inside and secure the property.” Immanuel took the keys from her hands and pecked her cheek. “You wait here.”
“Whatever you say, Big Daddy!”
His eyes twinkled, and his shoulders shook when he laughed. Immanuel unlocked the front door, flipped on the lights in the foyer, and slid inside the house. Dionne poked her head in the doorway, watched as he disabled the alarm and checked the living room windows. He told her to stay put, then jogged upstairs to the second floor.
Hearing tires screech on the road, Dionne glanced over her shoulder. Her eyes narrowed, and her body stiffened. The white Jaguar with the tinted windows parked at the curb belonged to Jules. She had to get rid of her ex before Immanuel returned. She didn’t want him to ruin their night, and shuddered to think what would happen if the two men came face-to-face.
Jules jumped out of the driver’s seat and slammed his door so hard Dionne was surpris
ed the window didn’t shatter into a million pieces. Her pulse pounded in her ears as she marched down the walkway. “Jules, you’re not welcome here. Please leave.”
“You must think I’m stupid—”
“You’re right, I do,” she mumbled, folding her arms across her chest. He smelled of whiskey and was slurring his words. Jules shouldn’t be talking, let alone driving, and Dionne wondered if she should call the police to take him home.
“I heard about your interview at Channel 6 tomorrow morning,” he said, shouting his words. “Cancel it, or I’ll sue your ass for defamation.”
Dionne glared at him. Jules liked to think he was the Almighty, but he wasn’t, and she was sick of him telling her what to do. “The meeting has nothing to do with you.”
“That’s not what my sources tell me.”
“They’re wrong.”
It was a struggle to keep her temper in check, but she didn’t lash out at him. There was no telling who was watching. “If you don’t leave right now I’ll call the police and have you arrested for trespassing.” Dionne took her cell phone out of her jacket pocket. “Don’t tempt me—”
“Baby, is everything okay?”
Dionne heard Immanuel’s voice behind her and summoned a smile. She glanced over her shoulder to reassure him everything was okay. Then all hell broke loose. Jules rushed past her, pushed Immanuel in the chest, and swung wild, frenzied punches that didn’t connect.
“You no-good son of a bitch! I told you to trail her, not screw her!” Baring his teeth, he shouted insults and threats. “You’re finished in this town. You hear me, Morretti? Done. I’m going to ruin you if it’s the last thing I do.”
Dionne couldn’t catch her breath, fought to get oxygen into her lungs. It felt as if an orange was stuck in the back of her throat, and her temples throbbed in pain. I told you to trail her, not screw her! The words blared in her eardrum, piercing her heart and soul.
“Don’t listen to him,” Immanuel said, his tone filled with urgency and desperation. “He’s trying to break us up, but I won’t let that happen. Dionne, we belong together, and—”
“Is it true? Did he hire you to...” Dionne lost her voice and broke off speaking.
“Of course it’s true,” Jules snapped, his tone laced with hate. “I’ve paid him thousands of dollars since August, and I have the documentation to prove it.”
“Jules hired me to trail you, but it’s not as sinister as he’s making it sound.”
Her stomach heaved. The truth hit her hard, like a crippling blow to the chest. Dionne stared at Immanuel, noted his lowered gaze and bent shoulders, and knew he was lying to her. She couldn’t believe this was the same man who’d promised to protect her, who had just made love to her hours earlier. He’d been conspiring with Jules for months, and his betrayal cut like a knife. Immanuel wasn’t a hero; he was a fraud. His bitter betrayal broke her heart.
A sob rose in her throat, and it took everything in her not to burst into tears. Dionne willed herself not to cry. She was determined to keep it together in the presence of her adversaries. She felt dumb for trusting Immanuel—her ex-husband’s hired hand—and her pain was so great her body ached. He’d played kickball with her heart, filled her head with empty lies and promises, and Dionne had no one to blame but herself.
“This isn’t over, Morretti.” Jules rounded on Dionne and spoke through clenched teeth. “No one messes with me and gets away with it. Cancel that interview at Channel 6 or else.”
Immanuel stepped forward and jabbed a finger at Jules chest. “If you even think of hurting her I’ll hunt you down and beat you like the dog you are.”
“Don’t touch me. This suit costs more than your entire wardrobe...”
Anger roared through Dionne’s veins, and her hands balled into fists. She wanted to smack them both—especially Immanuel for deceiving her—but she kept a cool head.
“We’ll see who gets the last laugh, Morretti.”
Jules stalked over to his car, jumped inside and took off down the street.
“Baby, let’s go inside.”
“So, you can lie to me again? Hell no.”
“We need to talk—”
Dionne cut him off. “About what? How you plotted with Jules to destroy me?”
“Don’t say things like that.”
“Why not? It’s the truth.” Something triggered in her brain, and she gave a bitter laugh. “Is Immanuel even your real name, or is that a lie, too? For all I know, you’re married with kids. You’re an accomplished liar, so I wouldn’t put it past you.”
“Dionne, don’t talk like that. You know me—”
“No, I don’t. You and Jules are cut from the same cloth. I wish I’d never met you.”
“Don’t let him come between us. He’s not worth it.”
“There is no us. We had sex a few times. That’s all it was.”
A cold wind whipped through the air, and Dionne hugged her arms to her chest. There was nothing left to say. They were over, and there was nothing he could say to change her mind. Dionne spun around, but Immanuel caught her arm.
“Don’t touch me,” she snapped breaking free of his grasp. “Don’t you dare touch me!”
“Ma’am, is everything okay?” A jogger in an Adidas sweat suit and neon green sneakers stood on the sidewalk. “Is this guy bothering you? Do you want me to call the cops?”
Too choked up to speak, Dionne rushed inside the house and locked the front door behind her. There, in the privacy of her home, she curled up on the couch and let the tears flow from her eyes.
Chapter 19
Immanuel felt like the scum of the earth, and not just because he’d lied to Malcolm about being sick for the fourth consecutive day. He’d hurt Dionne—the only woman he’d ever truly loved and given his heart to. He was mad at himself for causing her such pain. It had been almost a week since their argument, but he still couldn’t get her words out of his mind.
Hanging his head, he closed his eyes and raked his hands through his hair. What was I thinking? Why didn’t I tell her the truth when I had the chance? He’d tried coming clean on numerous occasions, but he always lost the nerve. He didn’t know what to say. It was never the right time. Or at least that’s what he had told himself whenever guilt troubled his conscience. The truth was he didn’t tell Dionne about his relationship with Jules because he didn’t want to lose her. His wait-and-see approach had backfired, and now she wouldn’t talk to him.
Immanuel walked into the living room, fell into his favorite chair and reached for the bottle of vodka on the side table. When did I finish it? he wondered, scratching his head. Last night? Two days ago? On Sunday when I was looking at pictures of Dionne on my cell phone? He longed to see her, and would give anything to hold her one more time. He’d gone to Pathways Center so many times the receptionist had threatened to call the cops on him. Thankfully, Sharleen had come to his aid. She’d promised to talk to Dionne on his behalf and texted him words of encouragement every day. Not that it helped. Immanuel was miserable, sick over what he’d done. He had called her every single day and had gifts delivered to her office, but to no avail. His heart and mind were at war with each other, and for the first time in his life he didn’t know what to do. Immanuel wanted a wife, not a playmate, and the only woman he wanted was Dionne. He craved her, longed to touch her and replayed the intimate moments they’d shared over and over again in his mind. In bed, she’d unleashed her wild side, given him the best sex of his life. A week later he could still hear her moans of pleasure in his ears.
His gaze drifted to the window. The dark, overcast sky mirrored his bleak mood. Living without Dionne was excruciating. Last night, after talking with Sharleen, he’d gone to Dionne’s house to apologize. Her car was parked in the driveway and the lights were on in the kitchen, but she didn’t answer the door. S
he was always on his mind, and he wanted her more than anything. He’d screwed things up, and now he had to fix them, but how?
Immanuel’s cell phone rang, and he swiped it off the coffee table. Every time his phone rang he prayed it was Dionne, but it never was. Today was no different.
“Malcolm, what do you want?”
“I love you, too,” he teased with a dry laugh. “I found Brad McClendon.”
He gripped his cell, pressing it closer to his ear. Troubled about what Jules had told him weeks earlier, Immanuel had done extensive background checks on all of Dionne’s past and present employees. There had been no red flags, nothing to raise alarms, but he’d been unable to locate her former right-hand man.
“After leaving Pathways Center, he reunited with his estranged wife, relocated to Augusta, and started his own life coaching business.”
“If Brad didn’t attack Dionne, then who did?” Pacing the length of the room, he voiced his frustrations. “Damn, after all these weeks of hard work, we’re back to square one.”
“Not so fast, Immanuel. There’s more. I tracked down the guy who rented the Cadillac Escalade you saw parked on Dionne’s street the night her house was vandalized.”
“Good work, man. Where is he?”
“At Friendship House. It’s a homeless shelter on Williams Street.”
His ears perked up. In Seattle, he’d spent long hours talking with Dionne about her family, her career and her volunteer work. It was during that conversation at a downtown coffee shop that he’d learned about her charity work at Friendship House. The Fontaine Family had been involved with the organization for decades. Over the years Dionne had done everything including teaching cooking classes, tutoring students in math and feeding homeless youth.
“He’s an ex-con with a lengthy rap sheet,” Malcolm explained.
“I knew it. Jules paid him to attack Dionne, and now we finally have the evidence to prove it.”
