by Tina Martin
He looks flushed from his chiseled cheekbones to his astute nose. His eyes are still glassy and his gaze remains heavy on me. Then I hear him sniffle and clear his throat. The sound of it makes something die in me. I place my right hand over my heart to steady myself.
“Are you okay?” Andre asks.
I nod. “I’m fine. You?”
His concerned face dons a bright smile. He sniffles again and says with a distorted voice, “As long as I have you and my son, yes, I’m okay.”
I smile too. “You want to eat dinner with me while you’re here?”
“I would like that.”
* * *
Over dinner, we talk about his trip to Charlotte. He tells me that he’s amazed at how fast the acquisition talks fell into place. Says everything happens for a reason and that it probably worked out so well because he was supposed to come back here with me and work on our problems instead of doing business related things. Speaking of business things, I’ve been dying to know the real reason why he moved his office out of our home.
“Andre?”
“Yes?” he says, slicing his steak now. He’d ordered a medium-well steak dinner, exactly what I was eating.
“Why did you move your office out of the house?”
He dabbed his mouth with a napkin. “It had nothing to do with you. I just found myself having to meet with the team so frequently that a home office wasn’t working for me. Why? Do you want me back at home?”
“No, it’s cool. I was just curious. I thought I annoyed you so much that you couldn’t stand to be at home anymore.”
“You don’t annoy me. Don’t ever think that way, baby.”
A smile comes to my face. “Oh, and I was thinking...I can find other things for us to do on Saturdays because I know you don’t like going to the park—”
“I like it, just not all the time. I’ve been looking into some other things we could do. This Saturday, we can go to the beach. Next Saturday, I thought we could visit the art museum and then you can think of something new and interesting we can do the next two Saturdays after that. We’ll alternate.”
I smile. “Okay.”
“How have your workouts been going, by the way?”
“Good.”
“Juan treating you okay?”
“How do you know Juan is my trainer?” I ask him with an inquisitive squint.
“Daddy’s been watching you, baby?”
I blush and take a sip of water. “Juan is treating me just fine. He told me that he knows you.”
Andre nodded. “Yeah. I know him.”
“How?”
“He didn’t tell you?”
“He said something about your company giving him a loan.”
“Yeah. We offer small, interest-free loans for people who want to start their own business.”
“That’s awesome that you do that.”
He nodded. “I remember when Juan came in...told me he wanted his business to be called Juan-der Works.” Andre grinned. “I thought he was joking, but he was dead serious.”
“He gets an ‘A’ for originality.”
“Definitely,” Andre says. “He’s good people, though. He’s the only other man that can touch you besides me, and even he better be careful. As a matter of fact, I think I’ll have a little chat with him and set some boundaries. I would hate to have to break Juan’s neck.”
His jealousy is amusing.
“Are you ready to go, or were you getting dessert?”
“No, I’m not getting dessert,” I tell him. “We can go.”
Before we get up, he looks at me and says, “I’m curious about something...why did you come here alone in the first place?”
“Because...I’ve never been to a place like this, alone, and I wanted to know how it would feel to dine by myself since I thought...”
“You thought?”
“That I would be dining alone for the rest of my life. I honestly didn’t think you were coming back home when you left for Charlotte.”
He frowned, but didn’t say anything in response to my answer. He removes two, fifty-dollar bills from his wallet and places them in the black bill folder on the table. “Ready to go?”
“Yes. I’m ready.”
Chapter 13
Andre
. ~ . ~ .
ANDRE FOLLOWED AVA out of the restaurant entrance, taking in her sweet-smelling perfume. He watched as her hair fanned in the nighttime, summer breeze.
“Where did you park?” she asked him.
He pointed in a direction opposite to where they were walking and said, “I saw where you parked...way off in Timbuktu.”
She giggled. “That’s one of my new exercise tricks. Park far so I can get in a mini walk.”
“Can I make a suggestion?”
“Sure, Mr. C.E.O.”
“Don’t do that at night. You never know who’s lurking around here trying to snatch up the most beautiful woman ever to walk the face of the earth.”
Ava looked at him and smiled. “I’ll race you to the car.”
“You want to race me?” Andre asked, then laughed. “Wow. Okay.”
“Don’t worry about it if you think those size fourteens can’t keep up.”
“Oh...we’re talkin’ smack now, are we?” he asked, and before he could get a reply, Ava took off running as fast as she could.
Andre followed, chasing after her with long strides. She was running pretty fast. Impressively fast for someone who’d had open heart surgery. That’s when it dawned on him – he couldn’t keep relating everything she did to surgery. That’s what made her lose the carefree spirit that he fell in love with on the beach. Since that woman had now returned he didn’t want to lose her again.
Once she was at the car, she slumped over, took a few breaths and said, “Shrew. That was fun, even more so because I beat you.”
Andre stared down into her eyes. “Yeah, you beat me,” he said, knowing that he’d let her win.
“So are you coming home?” she asked, staring longingly into his eyes.
Holding her head steady between his strong hands, he kissed her, savoring the taste of her. He missed her soft lips, the warmth of her mouth melting with his. He drowned in the essence of her, locking her into his embrace.
When their lips separated, he said in a husky tone, “Let’s go home, Ava. I have plans for you.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Do you think your mother would keep Andrew tonight?”
“Uh...um, yeah,” Ava said nervously. “She was keeping him tonight anyway.”
“In that case, I’ll meet you at home.”
“Okay.”
Andre couldn’t fight it even if he tried, not that he wanted to try because he didn’t. Now that he knew she was in good health, nothing would stop him from making love to her tonight.
As soon as they stepped into the foyer, he lifted her from the floor, using one hand to hold her while his tongue mated with hers. Climbing the stairs, his lips remained locked to hers and when they made it to the bedroom, he lowered her to the bed then eased over her, careful not to let the weight of his body bear down on her small frame.
He stopped a moment to look at her. He needed to look at her. Needed to see her like this again. It had been a while. And he didn’t want to rush things just because he was anxious and had lascivious thoughts controlling his mind. He wanted to see her – wanted her to get used to this again because he’d planned on making sure they had a healthy, intimate relationship from this point forward.
“What’s wrong?” Ava asked, watching him stare down at her.
“Nothing.”
“Why’d you stop?” she whispered.
“I just wanted to look at you.”
She smiled.
Andre slid his index finger down the scar on her chest, watching her close her eyes, feeling her body tremble underneath his touch. Then he kissed her there, softly. Lovingly. “Ava.”
“Yes?”
“I know you
thought I didn’t want to look at you because of this scar and I want you to know that I don’t care about the scar, baby. The reason I didn’t want to see you naked is because I knew I would want you and I couldn’t have you so it was frustrating to me.”
“Why couldn’t you have me?”
“Because I thought I would hurt you, but now that I know you can handle this, I’m going to be staring at you all the time.”
“Is that right?” she asked, smiling.
“That’s right. And there’s one more thing I want you to know and never forget.”
“And what’s that?”
“I didn’t give you my name only to bail when things got a little rough. I gave you my name because I love you, Ava Rockwell.”
“I love you too, Andre. Always.”
Her words touched him with a sharp intensity that quadrupled his desire. He kissed her again. Desperately.
“I’ve missed you so much, Ava,” he said before he began leaving a trail of soft kisses down her chest.
“I’ve missed you, too,” she said, in a low whisper.
When their souls connected and the two of them became one, she gripped him, held on to him tightly while their gazes remained connected, causing his body to tremor.
He wanted to ask her if she was okay, but that was getting old. She was okay. The needful expression on her face and the look in her eyes was telling him just how okay she was. Ava was his woman and he’d planned on loving her and showing her that she was his. He’d never loved a woman before her and hadn’t planned on loving one after her.
When they were completely spent, overflowing with love and exhausted, Andre pulled her into his arms.
“I love you, Andre.”
He kissed her lips. “I love you too, Ava.” He smiled and kissed her once more.
“What are you smiling about?”
He took her hand, interlocked their fingers then kissed the backside of her hand. “I’m just happy that we’re back like we should be.”
“Me too.”
“And, just so you know, I’m already planning a vacation for us.”
“Where would we go?”
“I was thinking about taking you to the Caymans...staying at one of the five-star resorts there.”
“And you’re not afraid to let me get on a plane?”
“I’m a little nervous about it, but I can’t be afraid to let you fly. I want you to spread your wings, baby. I want you to be happy.”
Ava smiled, inched closer to Andre, melting into him. Breathing him. This is where she belonged – in the arms of a man that truly loved her and there was no doubt in her mind that no man could love her like Andre Rockwell.
“What are you thinking about, Ava?”
“Nothing,” she said, then smiled.
“You know what I’m thinking about?”
“What’s that?”
“The day we met. I still see you in my thoughts, twirling and dancing on the beach. I didn’t know you at the time, but I knew I wanted to know you. And now, you’re my beautiful wife.”
“And you’re my handsome, talented husband.”
Andre rolled on top of her, locking his large hands around her small wrists. “You keep talking like that and we won’t get any sleep tonight, baby.”
“Then let me talking,” Ava said.
Andre kissed her lips again. He couldn’t get enough of her now that he knew he could have her. And he would have her – for the rest of his life.
* * * * *
You’ve just read the entire Dying To Love Her Series. Keep reading for a sneak peek of His Paradise Wife, by Tina Martin.
Discover other books by Tina Martin:
Been In Love With You (Mine By Default Mini-Series, Book 1)
When Hearts Cry (Mine By Default Mini-Series, Book 2)
You Belong To Me (Mine By Default Mini-Series, Book 3)
When I Call You Mine (Mine By Default Mini-Series, Book 4)
Evenings With Bryson (The Blackstone Family)
His Paradise Wife (The Champion Brothers)
When A Champion Wants You (The Champion Brothers)
The Best Thing He Never Knew He Needed (The Champion Brothers)
Accidental Deception, The Accidental Series, Book 1
Accidental Heartbreak, The Accidental Series, Book 2
Accidental Lovers, The Accidental Series, Book 3
What Donovan Wants, The Accidental Series, Book 4
The Millionaire’s Arranged Marriage (The Alexanders, Book 1)
Watch Me Take Your Girl (The Alexanders, Book 2)
Her Premarital Ex (The Alexanders, Book 3)
The Object of His Obsession (The Alexanders, Book 4)
Dilvan’s Redemption (The Alexanders, Book 5)
His Charity Challenge (The Alexanders, Book 6)
Dying To Love Her
Dying To Love Her 2
Dying To Love Her 3
Secrets On Lake Drive
Can’t Just Be His Friend
All Falls Down
Falling Again
Just Like New to the Next Man
Vacation Interrupted
The Crush
For more information about the author and upcoming releases, visit her website at www.tinamartin.net.
His Paradise Wife (The Champion Brothers
EXCERPT
Dante Champion sure was fine...
Emily could admit that very easily to herself, but she’d never do such a thing to anyone else, especially not to her best friend, Melanie Summers. When she thought of Dante, the tall, sexy, muscular being that bled testosterone through his pores and wore confidence like his thousand dollar suits, she always remembered this – the last time she saw him. It was a few weeks back, but she could recall the event like it had happened yesterday. Dante was just one of those distinguished, rarefied men that a person never forgets.
He’d been walking along the sidewalk by her little boutique on Battery Park Avenue with enough swag to melt ice. It had snowed that week, the last week in April, and the temperature was leveling out at around thirty-five degrees. Emily had been sitting behind the counter on a barstool, sipping on a cup of hot cocoa. Her assistant and friend, Sherita, had stayed home that day since the roads in her neighborhood hadn’t been plowed. There was no way she could drive in such treacherous conditions. Therefore, Emily had to perform all the operations of the boutique – including working the register, hanging new items and pricing them. Additionally she had to do closing work that entailed sweeping the floors, wiping down the counter and closing out the cash drawer.
At any rate, Emily couldn’t believe it was actually him, Dante Champion, strolling by her store. In the town of Asheville, North Carolina, that simple act was the equivalent to President Obama walking down Pennsylvania Avenue without his security detail. It was just unheard of.
Dante’s ten-story office building, the building that he himself owned, was five blocks away. Five cold, teeth-chattering blocks. He couldn’t be walking to work could he, when he could’ve easily summoned a taxi or better yet, called his personal driver to swing by in the limo, black Escalade or the Maserati, and pick him up? Stranger things have happened, Emily thought to herself. Maybe the man just felt like walking.
Fast forward to six o’clock in the evening...
Emily was bored out of her mind. The store had been slow, so slow that she could count the number of customers she had all day on one hand. She’d yawned and stretched enough times to make the Guinness Book of World Records and she caught herself nodding off several times. Too many times. A person could only nod off so many times before they were completely out, and her bed was calling.
“Ugh...is it time to go home yet,” she drawled out. Even though it was her store and she could leave any time she wanted, she always made sure to remain open during the regular operating hours that were posted on the door. It was good business practice, one of the pointers that Melvin had given her. He stressed the importance of consistency to maintain v
alidity as a small business owner. He always used to tell her that small business owners were actually big business owners who were just starting out. She believed that and she believed in him.
She sighed, rubbed her eyes until she heard the small bell ringing at the top of the boutique door entrance, alerting her that she had a customer. With tired eyes, she looked up and there stood one of the most sought after men on the Eastern seaboard – Dante Champion – standing six feet tall, dressed in a black business suit covered by an unbuttoned black peacoat with the collars flipped up, enhancing his broad shoulders while drawing attention to his handsome face. Black, leather gloves covered his manly hands and a skull cap fit perfectly on his head.
Emily instantly felt a nervous twinge run through her like a jolt of uncontrolled electricity, but of course she couldn’t let Dante see her sweat. He was probably accustomed to the attention he received from women. She imagined that he would feast off of the way women reacted in his presence – women who would instantly become flushed, nervous and nearly drool at the very sight of him. Women who deemed it an honor just to be in close proximity to him. In the same room as him.
Nope. Not her. No way. There was no way she would get caught up under his spell. So she pretended as if his creamy, Werther’s Original caramel candy complexion, the result of his African-American, French and Irish heritages, had no effect on her.
She nervously cleared her throat, swallowed hard then took a sip of cocoa. She quickly glanced up at Dante walking closer to the counter where she was sitting, then she looked away. She wanted to look up at him once more since he was walking so slowly. Then again, she didn’t want to. Honestly speaking, he was too beautiful to look at and too beautiful to ignore, sort of like staring directly at the sun. Sure, it was a beautiful creation, but one could cause damage to their sight by just gazing upon it.
