Such was not to be. Eli withdrew only after inhaling the intoxicating scent from the crook of Clarissa’s neck. She winced as his weight left her and again when she inched up on the sofa and drew her legs beneath her.
Elias left the sofa, his back to Clarissa as he ran a hand across his face and massaged his neck. Then he reached over, collected the discarded dress and tossed it on her nude form. He next disposed of the condom, fixed his pants and jerked into his shirt.
Instead of reclaiming his place on the sofa, he sat on the coffee table to face her directly.
“How are you a virgin?” he inquired simply, albeit firmly.
Clarissa parted her lips and then sighed and attempted to lighten the mood when she shrugged. “Well...I’m not.”
Elias was clearly unamused by the tease. Clarissa cleared her throat in acknowledgment of his narrowed, vivid gaze and the fierce sharpening of his handsome face. His eyes were focused and unwavering as he watched her. It was unnecessary to say that he was livid.
“Why did you let me do that to you?”
“Do what?” His hushed tone had been as unnerving as his stare but Clarissa wouldn’t allow herself to be cowed. “Elias?” she challenged, lifting her chin boldly when his mouth crooked into a smirk.
“You think this is funny?” he asked.
Clarissa scooted to the edge of the sofa. She kept the dress pressed to her chest in an attempt to preserve a hint of modesty.
“I don’t think it’s funny at all, but it’s damn well confusing. Why are you so upset? Because I didn’t tell you?”
Elias’s smirk segued into a smile. The gesture however lent an even more dangerous air to his expression. “We’ll get to that, Ms. David.” He slid a disgusted look toward the sofa.
“How could you let me...have you like that on a couch?”
Clarissa leaned back against the sofa arm and considered the question while studying the area where her deflowering had occurred. The memory of it stirred a tingle in her newly awakened sex and her lips parted in preparation for a gasp.
“Clarissa.”
Eli’s voice disintegrated the rosy memories stirring her arousal. She rolled her eyes toward him.
“Is there a rule about where it happens?” She flinched when he bolted from the coffee table and cupped her chin.
“Not on a damn sofa.”
Clarissa thought a growl would have sounded more inviting than the way he voiced the statement. Regardless of that, Clarissa was melting as he stood there glaring down at her, undoubtedly pissed off. The mixture of sweat and cologne on him was an intoxicating brew that brought just a hint of a flutter to her thick lashes. Her fingertips ached to graze the exposed skin visible beneath his open shirt.
She was hungry for another kiss. Boldly, she allowed him to spy her need when her eyes traveled up from his chest to settle on his mouth. They lingered there while she bit her lip and then soothed the area with her tongue.
Elias wasn’t immune. His body hadn’t stopped reacting to her at all. The silent admission only heated his simmering temper. He rolled his eyes, cursed softly, but fiercely and moved away from Clarissa as if she were a flame he’d gotten too close to.
“Eli—”
“It is supposed to be special,” he argued.
“It was,” she vowed.
Elias either didn’t believe her or he just wasn’t in the mood to hear anything more from her. He waved off her words and felt the pockets of his black carpenter-style trousers. He jingled the keys he found there and buttoned his shirt while heading for the armchair where a pair of suede hiking boots had been tossed. Collecting them, he strolled barefoot from the living room. “Not the way I do things, Clarissa,” he called over his shoulder on the way out.
Chapter 9
Rook Lourdess rubbed the ache from his jaw even as he grinned toward Elias, who was doubled over across the ring.
“Who is she?” Rook asked, his gravelly voice sounding very much out of breath as he observed his old friend.
Eli frowned. “Say what?”
“Don’t try it.” Rook waved a gloved hand dismissively. “You almost killed me. The only men who hit like that are ones on the outs with their bedmate or the ones who can’t figure out how to get her into bed yet.”
“Well...” Eli leaned against the ropes and massaged the back of his neck. “Neither of those pertain to me.”
“But a member of the opposite sex is involved? Who is she?” Rook asked again, taking Elias grimace as a confirming answer.
“Clarissa David.”
“You don’t have to lie about it.”
“I didn’t lie.”
Rook’s thick brows joined when he frowned in concentration as if he were trying to envision something. “No way.” He settled the matter with a quick shake of his head and another dismissive wave of a gloved hand.
“Have you met her?” Elias asked.
“Once or twice. When the guys were getting the layout of the place for a private party at her aunt’s club.” Rook’s nationally known firm staffed security for some of the most high-profile events in the country. The rigorous training Rook put his men through yielded such coveted results that he’d captured the attention of Hollywood directors and pro athletes alike.
“You’re serious,” Rook breathed. “She looks just like her aunt.”
Eli smiled. “Yeah, I noticed.”
“So what’s that about?”
Eli rubbed his fingers through the short waves covering his head. “It’s about me not knowing what the hell I’m doing.”
“Understandable.” Rook wrapped his arms around the ropes and leaned back on the ring. “The woman’s a dime if I ever saw one.”
“Tell me about it.” Elias began to pace the ring in the private underground gym of Lourdess Securities. “She’s like a drug.”
“Again—understood.” Rook’s grin sparked a dimple. “That face and all those curves...when I first saw her I thought she was a dancer in that damn club.” Rook sighed, taking in his friend’s distressed expression. “So are you gonna tell me what’s goin’ on?”
“Right away—once I understand it.”
“Problems?”
“Complications,” Eli stated, his mind still reeling a little over the events of the previous evening. “I don’t want to hurt her, Rook.”
“Yeah...” Rook paced the ring once back and forth. “Most of us don’t set out to hurt the women we pursue, but we do it anyway.” He rubbed his neck as if some unforeseen tension had suddenly landed there.
“There’s that, too.”
Elias’s closed remark told Rook that he wouldn’t get much more clarification in the matter. Therefore, he decided to stick with what seemed to be doing the most good. “You up for more sparring?”
“Think your jaw can take it?” Eli’s extraordinary eyes sparkled with humor and challenge.
“Only one way to find out.” Rook shrugged.
Seconds later the two men reengaged.
* * *
Clarissa raised her hands to ward off the insistent shoves against her shoulders. Someplace deep in her subconscious she thought she heard Rayelle’s voice. Blindly, she reached for a pillow to pull over her head and douse the sound.
Rayelle wouldn’t give up. She only pushed harder against Clarissa’s shoulders. At the first signs of her waking, Ray gave her a quick jerk.
“Don’t even think about going back to sleep.”
“What?” Clarissa frowned and fought to do as Ray had ordered. “What’s wrong...?”
“Why don’t you tell me that? Are you all right?” Ray moved closer to the bed and frowned suspiciously.
“Yeah...” Clarissa slowly braced her weight on an elbow. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
Rayelle appeared d
oubtful and Clarissa took note.
“Why?”
“Do you remember that we were supposed to get together this morning and go over more of Miss J’s things?”
“Oh.” Clarissa covered her mouth with the back of her hand. “Sorry,” she said during a hearty yawn.
“Don’t worry about it.” Ray sat on the edge of the bed. “I know the funeral was rough. Did you do all right, last night?”
“What are you getting at?” The reference to “last night” was an effective agitator.
“Now hold on.” Ray lifted her hands in mock defense. “I know it was a rough day—it was for me, too. Then I come over here this morning and there’s blood on the sofa—”
“God.” Mortified, Clarissa brought both hands to her mouth that time.
“Honey, what happened?” Ray pulled down Clarissa’s hands and squeezed them.
“It—” Clarissa grimaced and gave Ray’s hands a shake. “It’s not what you think. I’m fine. Elias...he came over last night.”
Rayelle straightened. “Oh.” She let go of Clarissa’s hands. “Um...well...am I, uh, interrupting?”
Clarissa’s laughter held faint traces of sorrow. “He left right after we...finished.”
“Clay...” Ray gasped, her fair skin darkening when she flushed. “That’s why the blood...well, I...” She blinked rapidly and began to rub damp palms across jean-clad thighs.
“I won’t be crass and ask how it was. I know a book shouldn’t be judged by its cover.” She gushed suddenly, “But, Clay, damn, that’s a wager I’d guess is a safe bet. At least tell me if I’m right?”
Clarissa closed her eyes, settling back to nod against the pillows. Tingles of arousal stirred on the memory. They nudged against faint pulses of pain—another reminder of what else had transpired the night before.
“I’m surprised he left.” Ray studied the bedroom as though she expected evidence to the contrary. “Man makes a discovery like that about a woman, it’s usually hard for him to stay away from her.”
“Well, about that.” Clarissa inched up in the bed. “He wasn’t all too pleased by the discovery.”
Rayelle kept quiet, waiting.
Clarissa mopped her face with her hand. “I didn’t tell him before we...”
Ray’s gasping filled the room. “Clay, why?”
“I wasn’t thinking about that—only about what I wanted and how much I wanted it from him and how long I’ve pretended I was all right without it.” She rolled her eyes and rested against the headboard. “I was afraid he’d stop if I told him.”
“Finally a breakthrough. Honesty at last.”
“Ray, please...”
“So what happened after?”
“Hell, Ray, what do you think?”
“Oh, let’s see...” Ray rested on her elbow propped on the bed. “Considering the state of the sofa, I’d say that’s where the deed was done—or undone. He strikes me as a man who wouldn’t be too pleased about that.”
“I can’t believe he overreacted that way,” Clarissa whispered.
“Overreacted?” Ray sat up. “Girl, are you saying that you can’t see the significance of his pissed-offness?”
Muttering a curse then, Clarissa whipped back the covers and started straightening her side of the bed. “I know I should have told him. I know that, Ray, all right?”
“Honey, he sees your aunt as the whore who ruined his family and then he goes and practically treats you like one by having sex—for the first time—with you on the sofa and taking your virginity besides.”
Clarissa lost her ability to grip the covers. She walked around and settled down next to Rayelle on the bed. “Stupid,” she said in reference to herself. “I didn’t feel that he was treating me that way.”
“But you don’t have all that history floating around in your mind like he does.” Ray studied the lifelines in her palms. “Things happened in my childhood I know I’ll never get over. I imagine it’s the same for him.”
Clarissa reached over to entwine her fingers with Ray’s. She realized there were things in the woman’s past that would forever be alien to her. Still, Rayelle’s words made her think more critically of what had happened between her and Elias and the way he may have perceived it.
She began, for a time, to put in an efficient yet pensive attempt at making the bed. “Do you think he’ll lose respect for me over the way I handled this—or didn’t handle this?”
Ray smiled while shaking her head. “You waited until you were thirty-three to lose your virginity—I’d say your respect level’s still intact.”
Clarissa returned Rayelle’s smile in the span of five seconds. In silence they joined forces to finish the bed and then settle down on the surface again.
“Why’d you sleep with him?” Ray asked, and then rolled her eyes. “Back up. Dumb question. Why was he the one? Lord knows you weren’t a virgin because no one wanted to sleep with you.”
Clarissa lay flat on the bed and looked up at the gilded high ceiling. “I could say it’s because he’s sexy as sin without even trying or because he doesn’t feel the need to make a big show over how intelligent he is—he just...is. Or I could say it’s because he’s very incredible to look at.”
“Damn straight.” Ray sighed, joining Clarissa over several moments of wicked laughter.
Clarissa drew up her knees and bumped her fists against her thighs. “I guess the truth is that there’s something genuine about him. All my life I’ve had the feeling that the people closest to me were keeping things.... Whether it was to hide their guilt or to protect me, I still felt it. I felt it from my father, the family, Jaz.... I don’t think I know anyone who can truly say ‘what you see is what you get.’”
“Thanks.” Ray pursed her lips.
“Sorry.” Clarissa nudged her foot to Ray’s thigh.
“In light of what you just said, Clay, I hope you don’t think that a man like Elias Joss doesn’t have secrets. Maybe he just knows how to hide them better than the rest of us.”
“That isn’t what I mean.” Clarissa spread her hands out over the bed. “I think he knows who he is. Good or bad, he doesn’t feel the need to apologize for it. He’s not ashamed or proud of it but it’s part of him and he’ll do what it takes to live with it.”
She covered her face in a pillow. “Don’t ask me how I know that,” she said after pulling away the pillow. “It’s just a feeling.”
Ray nodded. “Well, it was a strong enough feeling to make you give him the most special part of yourself.”
“Yeah.” Clarissa closed her eyes for a long while. “Now I have to wait and see if that was a mistake or the best decision I ever made.”
* * *
Elias got to work that morning to discover that Desmond had stepped away from his desk. He checked his watch and decided to hang around. He needed the information he’d asked Desmond to dig up before he could make an unexpected stop later that day.
He headed into his office, figuring he’d just mill about before digging into any additional business. He was heading for the sofa, but switched paths grimacing as memories surfaced. The workout with Rook had helped...while it was in progress. Now, he was back to thinking of Clarissa.
Back to thinking of Clarissa? Thinking of her was all he’d done since he’d met her. Thoughts of her—of having her—had taken up most of his consideration. Now, mere thoughts had transported themselves into reality.
She was a virgin—was being the key word and he’d held himself totally to blame. Blame? Yes, he thought, blame was the appropriate word there. Sure, she could have told him—given him a heads-up about what he was in for. Would it have mattered? Unless she had asked him to stop, would he have?
It was moot anyway. What was done was done. He couldn’t give back what he had taken—what she had given
. Elias shook off the qualification. Taken or given wasn’t the issue anyway. The only thing that mattered was how insatiable he was for her. His need for her seemed to overrule everything else.
That was the true issue for him, wasn’t it? Loss of control.
“Yeah?” Eli called when a quick knock intruded on his thoughts.
“Sorry, boss.” Desmond rushed inside.
“Find anything?”
“I’m surprised Mr. Grant didn’t have this—you said you met with him the other day, right?” At Eli’s nod, Desmond shrugged one shoulder beneath his khaki shirt.
“So you found something.”
Desmond ripped a sheet from the 8x11–size legal pad he carried and handed it to his boss. “Names of Mr. Echols’s investors for the new bank,” he explained.
“All women? Or am I wrong?”
“Nope, you’re right—all sixty-one of them.”
“Anything else? I recognize some of these names.”
“Yeah, me, too.” Desmond drew a hand through his dreads and looked toward the list. “Three or four of ’em at least. All of them makin’ shakes around town. There’re a couple of lawyers and an anchor from Mr. Grant’s station. That’s why I’m surprised he didn’t have the names somewhere. The rest of them...it’s anybody’s guess.”
“Right.” Elias gave the page a thump with his middle finger. “Thanks, Des, for taking care of this. Do I want to know exactly how you got this?”
Desmond posted up on the balls of his feet and looked humorously smug. “We executive assistants are a close-knit group, sir. Good enough?”
Eli grinned and flashed a wink. “Good enough.”
When Desmond was gone, Eli scanned the names again.
* * *
That afternoon, Clarissa was shaking hands with Detective Sophia Hail.
“Call me Sophie, please,” the tall, dark woman urged once she and Clarissa had taken their seats at a table in the bar and grill where they’d agreed to meet for lunch.
Provocative Territory Page 9
