SIX DAYS

by Williams, Mary J.

  “Would you prefer I leave the food in the hall?” Alton called out.

  “Don’t be silly,” Linc said as he opened the door. “Come in.”

  Alton set the tray as casually as if he found a woman in his employer’s bed every morning. For all Dee knew, he did.

  “Your note didn’t specify Ms. Wakefield’s preferences. I hope she likes eggs and bacon.”

  “Who doesn’t?” Linc raised one of the four silver cloches, breathed deeply, and groaned. “Sweet mother of pork, I miss you.”

  Dee thought she saw Alton’s lips twitch, but she couldn’t be certain.

  “Don’t worry. I made your favorite.” With a flourish, Alton uncovered the last plate. Steam cleared, revealing what appeared to be a lump of brown goo. “Wild organic farro, al dente, mixed with protein powder and a scant teaspoon of agave nectar.”

  “Yum.” Linc’s lip curled into a sneer. “I miss food.”

  “Don’t be a baby.”

  “Then tell my nutritionist to stop feeding me like one.”

  “Not on your life.” Alton raised his hands in surrender. “She scares the bejesus out of me.”

  “Me, too.” Linc looked at Dee. “Hungry?”

  “Yes.” Starving was a better word. “But…”

  “I’m going,” Alton assured her. “If you need anything else, Ms. Wakefield, I’m only a buzz away.”

  Alone again, Linc found a robe for Dee to wear. A little long in the sleeves, she rolled the navy silk to her elbows.

  The food was delicious and plentiful. Dee enjoyed every bite, especially the raspberry jam. Linc wasn’t quite as enthusiastic about his meal, but he cleaned his plate without another word on the subject.

  “Would you like anything else?”

  “Thank you, no.” Reluctantly, Dee pushed away from the table. “I should go.”

  “Someplace you need to be?”

  “Work.”

  Dee could have pushed her appointments back a few hours, but she liked to stay on schedule. Besides, she was worried if she stayed, goofing off with Linc could become a hard habit to break.

  “What do you say we share a shower?”

  Tempted, by Linc and his superior water pressure, Dee shook her head.

  “Party pooper.” He tugged on the robe, pulling her close. “I’ll settle for a kiss.”

  “Fine,” Dee sighed as if she weren’t as eager as he. “One quick kiss. Then, I have to go.”

  As far as Linc was concerned, the words quick and kiss didn’t go together. By the time he raised his head, Dee couldn’t remember why she was in such a hurry to leave.

  “Bacon,” he chuckled against her lips.

  “Are you interested in me, or what I had for breakfast?”

  “Both.”

  Dee burst out laughing. She had to admire his honesty.

  “One piece left,” she pointed to her plate. “Splurge. Eat the bacon.”

  “I’d rather eat you.” Linc swooped Dee into his arms. A second later, they were on the bed. “You’re a lot better for me.”

  “Don’t be so sure,” she warned.

  “You’re what I crave, Dee.” He opened the robe, baring her breasts to his heated gaze. “And I can’t get enough.”

  Dee knew nothing lasted. So, what? Today, she had Linc, and, she was happy. She’d let forever take care of itself.

  ~~~~

  LINC STOOD AT the foot of the bed. Nearing four in the morning, the room was dark save a dim glow from an antique brass lamp turned on the lowest setting.

  The light illuminated Dee’s face. Eyes closed, her cheek rested on the pillow. Linc couldn’t tell if she was asleep until her lips curved into a smile.

  “I can feel you watching.” She raised one lid. “What time is it?”

  “Early,” he assured her.

  “Need to go.”

  Linc didn’t know whether to laugh or punch a hole in the wall. Every night, they went through the same routine. Dee came to his bed, willing, eager. Sometimes the sex was so hot, he swore smoke rose from the sheets. Other times, they shared a playful sweetness that, when he looked into her eyes, stole away his breath.

  After, satisfied in mind and body, Linc was content to hold Dee in his arms. She gave him a few minutes, but never enough. If he thought her actions were a power play, a way to get the upper hand, he would have let her go, permanently, without a second thought.

  Dee, the strongest, fiercest woman he knew, was afraid to let him get too close. Linc believed someone hurt her, and since he couldn’t change the past, he put aside his pride to prove not all men were the same. He cajoled, teased, and seduced her into staying.

  Linc refused to beg, but the difference was a thin line, one he walked with increasing frustration.

  Three weeks together. Was he crazy to want Dee, just once, to stay of her own volition?

  Rather than his usual tactics, this morning, Linc had something else in mind.

  “You’re dressed.” Dee sat up, yawning. “Early meeting?”

  Linc chuckled. Energy personified, Dee burned through each day, sharp as a tack, totally committed to whatever came along. Sleep was not an exception. When she finally closed her eyes, she was dead to the world. As a result, when she woke, she could be a little vague while her brain took a few minutes to reboot.

  “For business, I prefer a suit to sweats and a t-shirt. Besides, the sun hasn’t come up, sleepyhead.”

  Blinking, she glanced toward the window and groaned.

  “I have an appointment with a new client this morning. In New Jersey.”

  Linc was surprised. Dee barely had time to deal with the deadbeats, cheaters, and run-of-the-mill New York scumbags.

  “Branching out?”

  “A favor to a friend.”

  She ran her fingers through her hair. During the shower they shared the night before, a bold streak of orange rinsed away, swirling down the drain, leaving only her natural mahogany shade behind.

  “You have plenty of time.” Linc kissed her cheek. “Something I want to show you.”

  “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

  “I still have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

  With a sigh, Dee rolled to her feet. Naked and infinitely tempting, Linc reluctantly kept his hands to himself.

  “What now?” she grumbled.

  “So impatient.” Linc shook his head. “Here’s a robe. Follow me. I want to show you my torture room.”

  Down the hall, past the guest bedrooms, he stopped when they reached a door tucked away from the rest of the apartment. Linc took a key from his pocket.

  Dee waited while he turned the lock, her dark eyes wary.

  “I didn’t ask about the orgy-sized bed. But a torture room? Whatever kink you’re into, count me out.”

  “I didn’t make you follow me. And yet, here you are.” Slowly, he turned the doorknob. “Be honest. You really want to know what’s inside.”

  Linc could tell he’d sparked Dee’s curiosity. A little leery, she stayed a step back, just in case.

  “I didn’t take you for the whips and chains kind of guy.”

  “Pain is my usual thing,” he admitted.

  “Do you like to give or receive.”

  “Depends.” Linc nudged open the door, just a crack. “Until you’re comfortable, I’ll leave the choice up to you.”

  Dee inched closer, unable to resist a peek.

  “I can guarantee I’ll never be comfortable enough to—”

  Linc flipped on the light, stopping her mid-sentence

  “You jerk!” Dee made a slow turn. “Your torture room is nothing more than a home gym.”

  “My trainer could teach even the most dedicated sadist a thing or two.”

  “Top of the line.” Dee ran her hand over Linc’s brand-new elliptical machine. “Very nice. But why equip a gym when you work out at the Wayside Training Compound almost every day?”

  “Never kn
ow when a blizzard might keep me homebound.” Linc sat, lacing up on his preferred model of Nike, the ones, not coincidentally, with his name under the trademark swoop.

  “Plus, you have the room, you have the money. Why not?” Cocking her head to one side, Dee watched as Linc stretched his glutes. “Pretty sure we aren’t snowed in.”

  “Feel like breaking a sweat. Want to join me?”

  “My workout clothes are back at my place.”

  “Look in the closet.”

  Linc watched as Dee did as he instructed, knowing what she would find. Along with towels, a first aid kit, ointments, potions, and other medicinal elixirs, three of the shelves contained an assortment of everything she needed, top to bottom.

  “Yoga pants, sweats, matching hoodies, t-shirts. Sports bras. Ten different pairs of shoes, all in my size?” Dee shook her head. “Seriously?”

  “I asked Alton to get an assortment.”

  Truth was, Linc ordered each item personally. He left Alton to open the boxes once they were delivered.

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  Linc could tell Dee was uncomfortable with his gifts. He waited, worried she might tell him where he could shove each shoe, one by one. Instead, she dropped the robe. Five minutes later, she was dressed, sitting next to him on the mat.

  “Thank you.”

  “You look good.”

  Dee raised an eyebrow.

  “Shut up and stretch.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  ~~~~

  DEE REMAINED SILENT while Boris Carlsbad read her report. She’d learned several things about Linc’s agent over the past few months. Most important, while he looked like a slick operator with his custom-made suits, thousand-dollar haircuts, and gold pinky ring, where his clients were concerned, he was pure bulldog. Tenacious, protective, and loyal to the core.

  Linc bragged about Boris’ negotiating skills, claiming the man knew how to squeeze the last penny out of a deal. Make no mistake, he took his percentage right off the top. After all, he hadn’t become an agent for his health.

  Another thing Dee had learned about Boris, the reason she’d come to admire him; unlike so many others in the game, he wasn’t completely focused on his bank account. He cared about the welfare of his clients. His affection for Linc was a perfect example.

  “You’re sure we can’t do anything about the woman?” Frowning, Boris looked up from the report. “What about the restraining order?”

  “The order states Amelia Moore can’t come within five hundred feet of Linc. Nor can she call, email, or in any way contact him. So far, she’s followed the letter of the law.”

  “She followed him to L.A.”

  And Dee wasn’t happy. Unfortunately, she couldn’t sick the cops on the woman for using her frequent flyer miles.

  “Amelia took a flight to Los Angeles the same day as Linc. She stayed in a different hotel—”

  “Across the street,” Boris grumbled.

  “Letter of the law, remember? Neither Linc nor his bodyguard saw her. Her trip could be a coincidence.”

  “Coincidence my Aunt Fanny.”

  Boris’ clenched fist landed on his desk, sending a paperweight flying. With an inch to spare, Dee caught the globe before the glass met the hardwood floor.

  “Nice reflexes,” Boris smiled for the first time in almost an hour. With a sigh, he sat back in his chair. “The woman didn’t stop at Los Angeles. In the last seven weeks, she’s followed Linc to Montreal and Toronto. As we speak, he’s in Chicago, and, surprise, surprise, so is she.”

  “Ross Dwyer is the best bodyguard in the business.” Dee refused to settle for anything less. “If he gets even a glimpse of Amelia Moore, he’ll hustle Linc to a secure place and contact the police.”

  “And if he doesn’t see her in time?” Taking a bottle of bourbon from an ever-present drink cart, Boris poured himself a jigger, or two. “Know what, forget I asked.”

  “We have no reason to believe Amelia Moore wants to hurt Linc,” Dee said a silent prayer she was right. “He knows the situation and won’t do anything foolish.”

  Boris topped off his drink.

  “Water for you?”

  “I’m good, thanks.”

  “Do you ever indulge in the hard stuff?”

  Not the first time Boris asked during one of their meetings. Her answer was always the same.

  “Never on someone else’s time.”

  Tapping his finger on the rim of his glass, his lips curved into a half-smile.

  “When I hired you to keep tabs on Amelia Moore, I offered you twice your usual fee if you didn’t tell Linc.”

  “I remember.”

  “Normally, I would have ended our association the moment you told me to shove my offer up my ass.”

  Dee crossed her arms and waited for Boris to make his point.

  “You were right.”

  Oh, no. Dee wasn’t about to let him off with one muttered apology.

  “Pardon me?” Dee cupped her ear. “Did you say something?”

  “You were right to keep Linc in the loop,” Boris said through gritted teeth, but she heard every word. “He was bound to find out. A second later, I’d be minus one lucrative client and a damn good friend.”

  Dee knew she was right. An acknowledgment from Boris was the perfect bonus.

  “I could say I told you so. But I won’t.”

  “Kind of just did,” Boris chuckled. “He’s lucky to have you in his life.”

  “I refused to lie.” Dee shrugged, uncomfortable with the turn in the conversation. “No big deal.”

  “Professionally, a woman who picks her ethics over money is a keeper. Personally, she’s a rare gem and perfect for Linc.”

  “Linc and I are…” Dee struggled to find the right word. “Casual.”

  “Forget labels,” Boris said with a wave of his hand. “You’re good for him.”

  “Am I?” Dee wasn’t so sure.

  “You convinced Linc to get a bodyguard—good for him. He hasn’t lost a tennis match since you came into his life—good for all of us.”

  “He’s only played in two tournaments.”

  “Don’t quote me, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Linc goes undefeated this year.”

  When they met, Dee didn’t give Linc the credit he deserved. He wasn’t a pretty boy dilettante who exploited a God-given talent. Tennis mattered. He was serious about the game, determined to be the best and to stay on top. If he went undefeated, he would have himself to thank, not her.

  “If you don’t have any questions, I have somewhere I need to be.”

  “You always do.” Boris walked her to the door. “You’ll contact me if anything changes on the Amelia Moore front?”

  “You’ll be the second to know.”

  “After Linc.” Smiling, Boris nodded. “As I said, he’s lucky to have you.”

  Linc brought so much to her life, Dee realized as she left the building, raising her face to the mid-March sunlight. Passion and laughter were at the top of the list. Even more, he returned something to her she was sure she’d lost forever. The ability to trust.

  The protective wall Dee built out of necessity wasn’t quite as thick or impenetrable as before. Her guard was a little lower, her edges a bit softer.

  Boris was wrong. The day Dee met Linc, she became the lucky one.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  ~~~~

  DEE LOVED HER mother—more when Judy Wakefield was tucked away in New Hampshire.

  The tidy three-hundred-and-thirty-six-mile buffer helped their relationship maintain an even keel. When Dee visited for a day, two at the most, her father and brother ran interference.

  The best scenario was when her parents traveled to New York together. Dee took them to dinner. The rest of the time, her mother shopped while her father entrenched himself in the library of his choice.

  On the rare occasion when Judy made the trip alone, she came with a
clear, no excuses edict. Your day belongs to me. With enough time to prepare, they managed to survive each other’s company.

  Simple and easy to follow, the rules they’d established worked. So why, Dee wondered, did her mother suddenly decide to make a spur of the moment visit? In winter, Judy never left New Hampshire until she was certain the chance of snow was absolute zero.

  “I woke up with a touch of cabin fever. I decided a day trip to New York was the perfect solution.”

  Over the phone, Judy’s voice sounded particularly chipper. Correction, Dee thought. Suspiciously chipper.

  “A day trip? The trip takes six hours one way.”

  “Better to sit on a train than in front of the television.”

  “What did Dad say?”

  “I don’t need your father’s permission.”

  Judy Wakefield, liberated woman? Since when?

  “I thought we could meet for a late lunch. My treat. Unless you’re too busy.”

  Dee’s life was busy, just the way she liked. She couldn’t put on the brakes because of her mother’s whim. She sighed. Who was she kidding? Of course, she could make the time. Annoying or not, Judy was more important than any schedule.

  “Lunch sounds great.”

  “Wonderful. Text me the address of your favorite restaurant. I’ll meet you there.”

  More of a hole in the wall than a restaurant, Al’s, a major misnomer for the best Chinese food in Manhattan, was in a part of the city Dee thought twice about before she went. Daylight hours only and not a place for her mother.

  “Let’s eat at The Stanton Plaza.”

  “Fancy,” Judy chuckled. “I’ll call you when my train gets in.”

  “Okay, Mom. See you then.”

  Lunch with Judy. Wouldn’t be too bad. Dee flopped onto her bed as she realized where her mother was concerned, too bad was relative. Hopefully, today would end up on the lower end of the scale—closer to a bothersome itch than a root canal.

  ~~~~

  DEE PAUSED AT the entrance to the restaurant. Three in the afternoon and the tables were still filled with customers as they ate and chatted. The atmosphere was relaxed yet elegant, a reflection of the owner.