by K T Grant
“Why are you muttering? What’s wrong?” Freddie asked after she kissed me cheek and curved her arm around my waist.
“I thinking of things I shouldn’t in church, such as our trip to the mall last month and what we did in the dressing room.” My face was on fire.
She covered her mouth, cutting off her startled laugh.
I jabbed my elbow in her side. “Ha ha. It’s so funny. It won’t be when I’m burning down below.”
She snickered and squeezed my hip. “You don’t have to worry about burning alone. I’ll be there with you.”
That wasn’t the response I had been expecting. “Wow, I guess that’s romantic.”
“I hate the thought of us being separated in life, so the same goes in death.”
I stared in stunned disbelief, overcome with emotion over her statement. She didn’t seem to notice my reaction since she stared ahead, viewing the front of the church and the lit Christmas tree.
“I love you, Frederica. You’re my everything and anything. I hope you know that,” I said, my voice slightly hoarse.
Now she was the one to look surprised. I never called her by her full name. Her eyes softened and a huge smile broke across her face. “I do, Cassandra. I know how much with every look and smile from you.”
Grabbing my hand, she led me out to the foyer to kiss under the mistletoe in the doorway. I hugged her, whispering again how much I loved her, finally at peace that I was home, where I had always belonged.
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Xavier’s Arms by KT Grant
Chapter One
Xavier arrived at the party with seduction on his mind, but that changed when the night ended up going to shit. His date, a woman he’d envisioned building a future with, had given him his walking papers. She had feelings for another.
The one his date had been longing for was busy getting frisky with her on the crowded dance floor.
Dressed in a gladiator costume—a toga, no less—with his hairy legs on display for all to see, Xavier Marks sipped his gin and tonic while watching the costumed couples dancing. A slow, sexy number set the mood for many who would go home after this year’s Halloween Gala and spend the night together heating up the sheets.
He would be one of the few leaving alone. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had such a dry spell. Ten months without sex had made him grumpy. How had he come to this, when the previous fall he’d had a fiancée who he thought loved him and wanted to cherish him all the remaining days of their lives?
As the tune changed into a softer melody, Suzy, his former date, snuggled closer to a masked Robin Hood. They kissed, as if hundreds of eyes didn’t view their public display. Or rather, Robin Hood had initiated the lip lock, placing his claim on her, proving to all in the room she belonged to him alone.
Xavier’s older sister, Tamara, appeared at his side. “What are you doing by the bar all by yourself?” Her eyes grew wide. “Isn’t that Suzy—”
“Yes, Tammie, she’s kissing another man,” he responded, hiding the burn settling deep in his chest by gulping down the rest of his drink. He raised his glass in a salute when Suzy studied him for a short moment and then turned her attention back to her partner with a warm smile.
Sympathy emerged on Tammie’s face. “I thought you and Suzy had something special going on. After your breakup with Yasmine and moving back home, I hoped you’d find some peace.” Tammie’s mouth slanted into a grim line.
He gave his full attention to his sister. At five eight, she was one of the tallest women in the room—only a few inches shy of his six foot one—and she appeared ready to storm the dance floor to give his former date a piece of her mind. He patted her arm. “Suzy and I weren’t meant to be. Just like me and Yasmine.” Xavier scratched his goatee and caught sight of the full moon through the French doors. A small, bright star twinkled back at him. “Fate has different plans for me. Maybe I need to take a break from women in general.”
Fisting her hands on her hips, Tammie signed in resignation. Her white and pink bunny ears perched on top of her chin length black curls complemented her old-fashioned Playboy bunny outfit, complete with black high heels that made him wince. Why she continued to wear such punishing footwear was beyond him.
As she opened her mouth, most likely to begin some sort of tirade on his behalf, Marcus came up and embraced her from behind. “Hey, baby, I missed you.”
Marcus’s eyes sparkled. Tammie smiled and relaxed in his hold “I’ve missed you, too, honey.” She turned and rubbed his chest. “You look too handsome for your own good.”
Lucky bastard won’t be going home alone tonight.
Only ice cubes bumped his lips when he lifted his glass. He needed another drink. Maybe he’d take a stroll around the manicured grounds to console his wounded heart and cool off his bitterness amid the late October chill.
“Isn’t that right, Xavier?” Marcus asked.
“What? I drifted off for a moment there.”
“It’s okay, brother.” Marcus winked. “I mentioned we’ll soon celebrate another event, with Tammie’s fortieth birthday right around the corner.”
She gave her husband a light slap on the arm. “Thanks for reminding me I’m getting old.”
“But, baby, forty is sexy.” Marcus hugged her, grinning.
Xavier rolled his eyes. Marcus would be forty-five in February, despite looking closer to his own thirty-five. I hope I look as good when I reach his age.
“You both have aged well, so stop complaining.” He motioned to the gyrating crowd. “I think you two should dance and show these younger kids how it’s done.”
The pair gave him playful frowns.
“Oh, just wait until you’re my age, baby brother.” Tammie gave him a kiss on the cheek then dragged her husband onto the crowded floor.
He made his way back to the bar. When he reached the ripe old age of forty, he’d probably still be alone, lamenting over his single status. Replenished drink in hand, he watched the merrymakers. Suzy and her masked man had disappeared. The crowd applauded and shouted when the band began a current Lady Gaga hit. He loved to dance, finding pleasure in holding a lady close and swaying against her, his leg sliding in between her thighs as she moved up against him, her moist heat soaking his pants, causing his own arousal to surge….
He gulped his drink, the bright lights of the spinning disco ball stinging his eyes. The final good-bye between him and Yasmine still wounded him. She had debased his masculinity in the lowest away—by cheating on him with a friend—then defended her actions by explaining she needed more excitement in bed.
“Next time I’m using handcuffs,” he mumbled. Do women seriously get off being bound and tied up in bed at the mercy of their lover? Setting his glass down, he turned his back on the bartender’s questioning stare and propped his elbows on the bar. Checking his watch, he was discouraged to note it wasn’t even ten yet. Maybe I should call the night a loss and head home? Then the crowd parted, and he caught sight of a familiar face.
Well, isn’t this interesting? Xavier straightened and with narrowed eyes scrutinized one of the waitresses talking with a male guest dressed in a king costume. The monarch loomed over the server, who held a large round, empty tray. Her black hair swung in a tight ponytail down the middle of her back, the same style she wore most mornings when he stopped in to his favorite coffee shop before work.
What a pleasant surprise. For once, the younger woman didn’t slouch with her head down and her lips fixed in a straight, weary line. In fact, she appeared angry enough that her cheeks flushed a healthy shade of pink. She glared up at the man, eyes flashing fire.
Too thin for his taste, she bordered on waiflike. But the way her butt stretched the back of her pants when she bent to clean a table gave him a woody. He liked a nice, rounded ass and hips a man could hold onto and this woman had some of the best around, even on her slim stature. The black mini-skirt
she wore, a change from her black uniform pants, molded that part of her body all too well for his comfort.
Down boy. At least his toga concealed his reaction. Should I be embarrassed my dick’s hard as hell? So what if I’m aroused by the woman because she’s smoking hot. Shit, I’ve become a perverted stalker.
Shifting to his right, his ire rose when the tall, redheaded prick caressed the waitress’s face. She stepped back, but the bastard grabbed her arm and pulled her up against his chest. Who the hell does that guy think he is treating a woman that way? No one, not even some stuck-up party guest, could get away with molesting the help at the elegant Westminster Chateau.
In the less than a minute it took him to reach the harassed woman, the stranger had released her and cut across to the other side of the room. The waitress shook her head and shot daggers at the rude man’s back, clearly upset from the vexed expression on her face.
Xavier tapped her shoulder. “Miss, was that man bothering you?”
She flinched. He couldn’t help but give her a quick foot-to-head appraisal. His mouth was aligned with her own, her height perfect for him to steal a kiss if he dared.
“Not at all. He’s a friend who happens to be one of the owners here. We were just having a discussion. No need to concern yourself.” Her lips curved up in a sunny smile, although her eyes appeared empty and bleak, her face pale under her makeup.
She’s lying. He nodded, wanting to get to the truth of the matter. “From my viewpoint, you two were having a heated argument. I didn’t like the way he grabbed you. But since he’d already stepped away by the time I got here, I decided to make sure you were all right.”
She stepped back, her smile disappearing. “Why did you feel you had to come to my rescue? You don’t know me from Adam.”
He cringed at her tone.
“Since we’ve met before, I didn’t see the harm in saying hello. It’s a surprise to see you working here as well as at Common Grounds.”
“You come into the Grounds?” she asked, moving to the side and farther away from him.
Why is she being so obtuse? The last time he’d seen her, he’d offered her his card in the hope they could meet outside the café. Taken aback, he reminded himself they were in different surroundings and he wore a ridiculous toga and not his typical business suit. “Yes. I come in most mornings and get a large Columbian coffee with soymilk. You’ve waited on me many times, or we passed the time of day while you bussed tables and swept up the floor?”
She shrugged, her eyes lowered. Why wouldn’t she look at him? Her face had become blank and remote.
Someone bumped into him, and he brushed up against her. She shrugged, her lip curled in disapproval.
“Since you don’t remember me, how about we introduce ourselves again? My name is Xavier Marks. I work in the tall building across the street from Common Grounds. I’m going to be vice president of one of the most successful family owned and operated real estate agencies in the area by the end of the year. And you are?” He held out a hand, waiting for her to take it. She didn’t.
He rubbed his goatee, exasperated by her lack of response. The woman exhaled and stared intently into his face.
“Funny, you say we’ve met before, but you don’t even remember my name.” A stiff smile pulled up the corners of her lips. “I recognized you, Mr. Marks, the moment you approached me. You work at Marks Realty on the fourth floor. Odd how I can recall that, but you can’t remember something simple like my name.”
“Ah….” He swallowed. Not what he’d been expecting at all.
“And don’t try to be smart and look at my nametag.” She held her tray higher, covering her chest.
I’m drowning here. His face ignited with fire and his chin dipped in embarrassment. “How about I apologize? Apparently I’ve had too much to drink, and my date has left me for another.”
“Oh please, stop making a fool of yourself.” She shoved a loose lock of hair behind her left ear, and he fisted his hand to stop from reaching out and doing the same to a soft-looking wisp on the other side of her face.
What’s the matter with me? How can I be so aroused by this outraged woman? Is there something freaky in my gin and tonic?
Before he could come up with another, more believable explanation, she rolled her eyes. “It’s better if you forget this ever happened, go back to the bar, and have another drink, or whatever your type does.” Loathing pierced her voice. “I have to get back to work before I get in trouble.”
He tried to process what she’d said as she scurried away. My type? Does she have a thing against black men or just guys who stick their feet in their mouths?
Running after her wasn’t an option. Finished with making an idiot of himself, he decided to slink away to his new and still unfurnished home. Before he left the ballroom, he searched, trying to spot the cantankerous woman. I’m a glutton for punishment.
“Have one dance with me before we leave?”
Tammie’s smiling face was a welcome distraction. He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. “It would be my pleasure.”
As they dipped and swayed to the sounds of Frank Sinatra, she laid her cheek against his chest. They circled the floor together. On the far side of the room, he noticed the king standing alone near the kitchens, his arms crossed on his chest as he surveyed the action, much like a true sovereign might do at his court. Something about the man didn’t sit well with Xavier, though, and when the bad-tempered server strode past the man, Xavier grimaced and squeezed Tammie’s waist.
“Tam, do you happen to know the guy in the far corner next to the kitchens?”
She followed his gaze. “That’s Devdan Rossi. He owns part of the Westminster with his cousin and works for his father. He’s into buying and selling buildings, and owns a large number himself. I think Dad and Uncle Ben have done business with him in the past.” His sister’s eyes twinkled up at him in sly humor. “He’s some nice eye candy.”
“Tammie,” he chided and pulled her in closer.
“Hey, I may be happily married to a man who makes me hot under my skirt, but that doesn’t stop me from appreciating the landscape around me.” She winked and he chuckled, amused despite his general irritation at the way the evening had gone.
“Thanks for revealing that bit of information about yourself.”
“You did ask.” She stared up at him in undisguised glee.
As the snarky server passed, Rossi took her by the hand. This time she didn’t pull away, and when he whispered in her ear, she laughed. Xavier’s chest tightened and sweat covered his forehead at their easy interaction.
“Too bad you’re not gay. You could make a play for him.” Tammie gave him an impish grin.
He shook his head in disbelief. “What? Are you saying Devdan is gay?”
“I’m joking. Devdan is a notorious ladies man.” She spoke near his ear. “I heard he has a preference for white women, although as half Indian, you’d think he’d fancy a more ethnic type of woman. I guess his father’s Italian blood is more potent.”
“What in the hell are you talking about?” he asked, growing more confused by the second.
Tammie giggled. “If you were a woman, you’d understand.”
“How about we just finish our dance and keep our thoughts to ourselves?” he grumbled.
“I sure do love getting a rise out of you.” She rested her cheek against his chest and rocked with him, the conversation forgotten.
For a short moment, the tension in his stomach disappeared, but then returned with a vengeance. The affectionate way Devdan and the woman—whose name he still couldn’t remember—stared at one another, provided all the proof he needed they were more than just friends.
He should take a break from romancing women and stick to more important things, such as dealing with his father’s retirement, planning Tammie’s surprise birthday party, and searching for a new café for his caffeine fix.
ove