by J. S. Scott
“Believe me, I already know you have more than your fair share of male hormones, but you were in control. I was mesmerized,” Asha admitted. “And I learned a lot. There’s a lot of strategy in the game, and you’re a master at it. You still have all of that information, Kade. And I’m willing to bet you can still hit your target with your throwing arm. So please stop beating yourself up because of your leg. You have so much knowledge you could share with young players.”
“Damn right I can hit my target,” Kade told her gruffly, but he was still smiling. “I was a little hesitant because of my leg, but I want to do it.”
“Then do it. You’re still the great Kade Harrison. And I’ll bet your butt still looks amazing in those tight pants,” she told him teasingly. Really, she probably could bounce a quarter off his tight ass, and she couldn’t help but admire it every time she caught a glimpse of him from behind. Kade was still poetry in motion when he moved, even with an injured leg.
Kade laughed, a booming sound that echoed in the hallway. “I don’t plan on wearing the pants. I’ll be there to teach.”
“Well…damn,” Asha said, disappointed. “And here I was going to offer to teach some yoga for you at the camp if I could see that butt in a pair of those pants,” she teased.
“I’ve never seen you do yoga. I’ll wear the football pants if I can see you in a pair of those yoga pants,” Kade said hopefully.
Asha lifted a brow. “I don’t even own a pair of them.”
“I’ll get you some in every color,” Kade replied eagerly.
She swatted him on the arm playfully. “My neighbors were Indian and practiced both yoga and meditation. I learned from a very early age from them. I haven’t done it for a while, but like you, I still have the knowledge here.” She put a finger to her forehead.
“Believe it or not, I think yoga is incredibly beneficial for a football player. I did some yoga pre-season and during the off-season. It helped me maintain my range of motion and flexibility,” Kade told her with a wink. “I’d still love to watch you do it.”
“For your information, I usually do it when I’m alone and in my underwear or naked,” she informed him innocently.
“Scratch the yoga pants. I’ll go for that in a private viewing,” he told her with an evil grin. “And I’ll take you up on the offer to teach basic yoga to the kids, but I’m getting you a baggy pair of sweats for that. I don’t want my fellow players who are helping out to be checking out your ass. Football players can be horny bastards.”
Asha rolled her eyes at him, amused that he seemed to think that every man would look at her with lust in his eyes like he did. Honestly, no other man looked at her the way Kade did. “You’ll be a great teacher,” she told him truthfully, knowing that he’d also make a great father. He was a protective alpha male, but he also had such patience and kindness.
“Thanks,” Kade replied, lowering his forehead to hers. “So much confidence in my abilities?”
“Yes,” she answered quickly and adamantly. Really, she didn’t think there was anything Kade couldn’t do if he wanted to do it. He had a stubborn tenacity that would always make him succeed.
“Have I told you today how amazing I think you are?” Kade asked her huskily.
Asha’s heart skipped a beat. His low baritone was sincere, and he obviously did think she was exceptional, for some unknown reason. Somehow, it made Asha feel lighter, more carefree. “Nope. You haven’t.”
“Then let me tell you now. Asha…you’re an incredible woman, my incredible woman.” He leaned down and kissed her then, a kiss that was slow and languorous, making her feel valued and treasured. It was sensual, but it was an embrace that wasn’t meant to arouse. It was a sharing of emotions, a kiss of communication and intimacy.
It left Asha smiling, her feet still not on the ground for a very long time after she opened her apartment door and disappeared inside alone.
“It looks incredible,” Tate Colter told Asha as he stared at the finished wall in his apartment. “It looks even better than I thought it would. I wish…” He trailed off, his comment unfinished.
Asha looked at Tate curiously, wondering what he was going to say. She’d finished his wall completely today, putting the finishing touches into the scene. “You wish what?”
Tate shook his head. “Nothing. I forgot what I was going to say.”
Asha knew he was lying, but she didn’t push. She and Tate had become pretty good friends in a short period of time, but she wasn’t comfortable enough to pry. “I enjoyed doing it.” She tilted her head, examining the old fire engine and other equipment she’d put in the painting. “How did you become interested in antique fire equipment?” she asked curiously.
“I was a volunteer firefighter for a while in Colorado. I got interested in some of the old fire equipment,” Tate answered smoothly, turning his back to her and moving into the kitchen. “You want to stay for dinner?”
Tate had gotten his cast removed and Asha could appreciate the rock-hard ass and Tate’s solid, muscular build. He was incredibly handsome, and she could admire him in an aesthetic sort of way, with hair almost lighter than Kade’s and gray eyes that could almost appear to be looking into one’s soul. But as gorgeous as he was, Tate did absolutely nothing for her. It was as if her body only reacted and came to life for one man. “Can’t. I have a dinner date. Kade’s taking me to a fondue place for dinner tonight.”
“Sissy food,” Tate called back in a teasing voice. “I was willing to make steaks.”
“It was my choice,” Asha told Tate indignantly. “I heard about it from one of the women in my art class, and I wanted to try it.”
She’d just started her classes this week, and they were pretty basic, but she enjoyed every moment of them. She could finally put terms to her techniques and the teacher was an incredible artist. Asha knew she could eventually learn plenty of new things from her, and she was eager to absorb knowledge.
Kade had spoiled her rotten from the moment she’d seen him again during that horrible confrontation with her foster parents three weeks ago. They’d been to Disneyworld, and she’d squealed with delight through every ride. In fact, he’d probably taken her to every tourist attraction in Florida, but he always seemed to come up with something new every time she saw him. Usually, there wasn’t a day that passed without her seeing him. And they texted like teenagers, sending flirty and seductive messages back and forth like two people completely…in love.
Asha sighed and picked up her purse, ready to go back to her own apartment and get ready for Kade to take her to dinner.
“You going out with that guy who wears the atrocious shirts?” Tate asked as he walked back into the living room. “I saw him coming out of the elevator yesterday. Gotta be something wrong with a guy who dresses like that.”
“I happen to love his shirts,” Asha answered defensively and honestly. “They’re colorful, bright, and gorgeous.” Just like him!
“They’re nasty,” Tate grumbled, shaking his head.
Asha walked to the door, but turned around and looked at Tate again. “You like football. You don’t recognize him?”
“Yeah. Kade Harrison,” Tate answered immediately. “He was a hell of a quarterback, but he needs to work on his personal sense of style.”
Asha knew Tate was ribbing her. He wasn’t the snobby type, and he wasn’t exactly a fancy dresser. “I think he looks very handsome. Yesterday was his hot chili pepper shirt. And he definitely looked…hot.”
Tate snorted as she opened the door. “He needs work.”
Asha looked back at him and told him assuredly, “He needs nothing. He’s perfect just the way he is.”
“In love with him, are you?” Tate asked as he joined Asha at the door. “Only a woman in love could think that about a man in bad shirts.”
Enjoying the bantering with Tate, she answered haughtily, “At least
Kade knows how to treat a woman, unlike some men I know.” She raised a brow at him, referring to the brunette who left his apartment every day smiling while Tate insisted it was a casual thing. “I haven’t seen her for a few weeks. Did you dump her?”
Tate shrugged uncomfortably. “We…broke up.”
“Are you sad?” Asha asked curiously, feeling bad that she had given him a hard time.
“Nah. It was bound to happen. She got back together with her ex-husband. I told you it was nothing.”
Asha looked at Tate, but he avoided eye contact with her.
“I’m sorry.” And she was sorry. If the woman had dumped him, even if he wasn’t all that attached to her, it probably hurt.
“Don’t be,” he said hurriedly. “Maybe I can give your star quarterback a run for his money. I’m unattached,” he said jokingly.
“I’m not,” she told him cheekily, knowing Tate wasn’t really interested in her. Pulling her keys from her purse, she walked across the hall to her own apartment.
“I don’t see a ring. He doesn’t have you, yet,” Tate called from his doorway.
Asha unlocked her door and pushed it open. She paused for a moment before looking Tate straight in the eye from the door of her apartment. “He has my heart,” she stated simply, closing the door of her apartment with a small smile.
Glancing at the clock on the wall of her apartment, Asha knew she’d have to hurry to get ready for her dinner date with Kade. A rush of adrenaline and excitement flooded her body as she moved quickly to the bathroom to shower. Not that Kade would mind if she was late. He’d wait patiently, understanding that she’d had to finish a job today, acting like he was perfectly content just to be in the same space with her. Although he was a billionaire who headed one of the most prestigious companies in the world, he never treated her obligations like they were any less important than his. It was one of the many things that Asha loved about Kade. He made her feel like she was important, that what she valued was also significant to him. Most of the time, he put her needs before his own, and it was starting to get less and less confusing for her. Kade cared for her, and he protected those he cared about and treated them with consideration. At one time, that had been foreign to her, but she was getting used to being treated as a woman of value by not only Kade, but by others such as Maddie, Max, Devi, and people she had met who were slowly becoming friends. It was still amazing to Asha that as people had started to value her, she’d started to develop her own self-worth.
Asha sighed as she stepped from the shower and wrapped herself in a towel. Padding over to the closet, she rifled through her clothing, picking a lightweight dress from the collection that Maddie and Mia had purchased for her when she’d first arrived in Florida. After countless discussions about the clothes, Maddie had shown up at her door a week ago with a very large moving man to bring all the clothing to her room to be hung in her closet. Maddie had given Asha a don’t-screw-with-the-pregnant-woman glare, and Asha hadn’t argued. Her sister might be sweet, but she had a stubborn streak when she wanted something. And she had wanted Asha to accept her gift. Maddie’s brilliant, happy smile when Asha had nodded her agreement had been worth swallowing her pride. She’d made Maddie genuinely happy by finally accepting the clothes. It was almost symbolic, as if Asha had finally accepted her as a sister. Had Asha realized that it had meant so much to Maddie, she would have taken them before. But she hadn’t been perceptive enough then to read her sister. Now…she was beginning to understand Maddie, see her through the loving eyes of a sister. The last thing Maddie needed right now was conflict. She was having twins, and the stress of the pregnancy was enough. Asha wanted to be there for Maddie, too.
The same day that Maddie brought the clothes, she just found out she and Sam were having a boy and girl. Asha’s heart had first clenched with joy for Maddie when her sister had happily delivered her news, and then for herself because she was going to be an aunt to a new niece and nephew in just a few months. She and Maddie had cried tears of joy together, and it had been at that profound moment that it really hit Asha that she really had family. It no longer mattered what Max and Maddie had or how successful they had become. They were all irrevocably connected, and status meant very little next to the affection she had for both of them. Money or no money, Asha couldn’t have asked for better siblings, and she was grateful every single day for them. She talked to Maddie and Max most days now, and spent as much time with them as she could, getting to know them both.
Lunch with Maddie, Mia, and Kara had become a weekly event, and Asha was still just a little in awe of all three women and their relationships with three very alpha, powerful men. The women were all independent and strong, but they adored their possessive, protective, and bossy husbands because those men wanted them safe and happy. It wasn’t about control for any of the women’s husbands. It was all about loving so strongly that they couldn’t help themselves.
“Really, it all comes down to love,” Asha whispered to herself as she smoothed the dress over her new curves. Didn’t she love Kade’s overprotectiveness and alpha possessiveness? And didn’t she know it was because he cared? Maddie said there was a big difference between “alpha” and “asshole” and Asha completely understood exactly what her sister was saying. The distinguishing factor was all about what motivated their behavior.
Looking at herself in the mirror, Asha applied some light make-up and began French braiding her hair. She smiled, knowing Kade would just unbraid it later. It had become almost a sexy ritual for them, and she shivered as she braided, knowing it would be Kade’s fingers that would set the strands of hair free again.
Finished, she took a final glance at herself, noting the way the jade green silk dress caressed her curves. It was cut just above the knee, but a small side slit revealed enticing glimpses of her thighs when she moved. Kade would like it, but he’d grumble about the amount of leg she was showing, and glare at any man who looked. Smiling, she snatched up her strappy sandals and her purse, glad she didn’t need stockings. Even though she was of mixed heritage, her complexion was dusky enough that wearing stockings was completely unnecessary.
Asha forced herself to ignore the voice of her foster mother in her head that told her to cover her body, that she was exposing too much skin. Raised to be incredibly modest, the dress was a little out of her comfort zone for going out in public. Shaking herself mentally, she reminded herself that it was actually pretty tame by American standards. Still, it was hard to shake her upbringing and the idea that dressing to expose skin made her a “bad girl” who was asking to be assaulted or abused by a man.
Adding a pair of dangling, beaded earrings and her gold bangles, Asha declared herself ready and headed out to the living room.
Seven o’clock.
Kade should arrive any time. He’d said seven thirty, but he was usually early.
Asha was about to bend down to strap on her sandals when a beefy arm wrapped around her neck, startling a panicked scream from her mouth.
“Shut up. You are dressed like a whore, Asha,” a heavily accented male voice said vehemently in her ear.
Asha had known it was Ravi from the moment the strong, male arm had wrapped around her neck. She’d been in the very same position many times before, and she recognized his painful grip and the sweaty scent of his large body. “H-how did you get in here? How did you find me?”
His hold tightened and Asha was starting to see stars flitting across her vision. “You’re my wife, a married Indian woman. Yet you go around with another man. An American,” Ravi answered angrily in Telugu. “You weren’t difficult to find. All I had to do was follow him to you. You disgrace me.”
Before, she would have trembled with fear, waiting for the first blow, which would be followed by many more, leaving her damaged and weeping on the floor. Now, anger began to swell up inside her, a rage for the man who had nearly broken her. “I’m no longer your wife. And I’
m an American woman with Indian blood. Let go of me or I’ll have you arrested.”
Fight! Fight! Fight!
For the first time, Asha felt the instinct to fight for her life, for her sanity. At one time, all she had worried about was angering Ravi more, extending her beating. Now she wanted free, unable to ignore the feelings of hatred and fury that she had for the man holding her prisoner.
He laughed bitterly before announcing, “The police are already trying to arrest me. Your friends and family decided to poke their noses into my business, both personal and otherwise. I won’t go to an American prison. I will die. But you will die with me, little wife. You’ve decided our fate.” Ravi’s voice was deranged and desperate, and his breath reeked of alcohol.
Asha’s stomach dropped, wondering what Ravi was saying. Her family had pursued him? Had a warrant out for his arrest? Why? Questions flooded her brain, but her survival instinct was stronger. “I’m not your wife anymore. Let me go,” Asha rasped desperately. She yanked at the arm pushing on her trachea, making it difficult to talk or breathe.
“You die with me,” Ravi answered maniacally. “We married for life. You betrayed me.”
Pulling her arm back, Asha thrust her elbow into his body with as much force as she could muster, hoping to hurt Ravi enough to loosen his grasp. She followed that action with a stomp of her foot on his instep, but she already knew she wouldn’t do much damage without shoes.
“You dare to try to hit me?” Ravi howled, his arm lowering to capture her shoulders and arms in his grip.
Fight! Fight! Fight!
Asha gulped in breaths, grateful for the release of the death grip on her throat…until she felt the sharp edge of a knife nick the skin of her neck.
All the years of struggle, the years in poverty trying to obtain her freedom—all for nothing? This was how it was going to end? She was going to die at her ex-husband’s hand after all?