“Introduce us.” Justin didn’t give an inch, and it was clear he didn’t care who was watching or could hear them.
“Justin Ragnarson, please meet Marcus Wilkins.” When Justin didn’t change his stance and he stubbornly held her, Imani sighed. “Marcus is my boss, you crazy man. Go back to your lunch so I can get on with mine,” she gritted out.
Justin smiled down at her. “Well, why didn’t you say so?” He reached over and shook Marcus’ hand. “Sorry, man, we’re really protective of our women.”
Imani frowned at his possessive use of the word “our” when referring to her. But she had to admit it made her feel as though she was part of their family.
“Just so you know,” Justin went on conversationally, “don’t touch her again like you just did. My brother has this knife that can do some really creative things to a human body. And you don’t want to get on his bad side and incur his wrath by touching his woman.”
“I didn’t realize Imani was seeing anyone.” Marcus seemed to bristle on hearing that threat.
“I’m not,” Imani said emphatically.
“Yeah, she’s my brother’s,” Justin said cheerfully, ignoring her denial.
“Justin! I’m not your brother’s,” she whispered fiercely.
Justin raised an eyebrow and smirked at her. “I don’t know, sis, you’re sleeping in his house, driving his car and”—he pointed to the security detail standing near the entrance of the restaurant—“you’re being guarded by his men. ‘Nough said.”
“You know, I really used to like you,” Imani muttered.
Justin laughed and released her then. “Enjoy your lunch, sis.” He kissed her on her cheek and walked back to his table with a carefree whistle.
They had barely sat down at their table before Marcus started interrogating her. “Why are sisters constantly looking to hook up with a white man?”
Imani didn’t respond to the scorn she heard in his voice. Instead, she answered him honestly. “I was taught early to not judge a person by the color of their skin.”
“Somehow all of you say the same shit to justify reverting to the same old tendency of sleeping with ya master.”
“You know, Marcus, I’m not even going to get upset by your comments. Because they seem to be coming from a place of misinformation or ignorance, or both.”
“I call it like I see it. If you get mad, it’s because the truth hurts,” Marcus drawled.
Imani smiled and shook her head at the absurdity of their conversation. “For your information, my mom was a white woman from Jamaica, and my dad is a mixed black and Indian man from Trinidad. So, Marcus, I don’t quite know what you would call me.”
“I guess I was working with the one-drop rule.” Marcus laughed sarcastically.
Imani found their conversation personally offensive, but she didn’t want to get into it with him. Was she supposed to ignore her mother’s heritage and only embrace the Black culture just because she was brown and didn’t look white? What about her dad’s Indian heritage? Was she supposed to ignore that too? While she’d never had an issue identifying herself as Black, and she’d always done so, she’d still hated it when people told her that she had no claim to her white or Indian heritage because she had a drop of black that, according to this rule, erased all other races.
“I love who I love, not because of the color of his skin but because of who he is. I won’t bore you with the details. However, it has never crossed my mind to check a man’s color first before I decide if I like him or not. Besides, assholes come in all shades and colors.”
The waiter came and took their order. But suddenly Imani didn’t have much of an appetite. Just thinking of her feelings for Colt had her stomach tied in knots. Besides, Marcus always seemed to piss her off. She resolved to change the subject, and to her relief, Marcus went along with it.
“I was looking forward to seeing what you were working on at your new lab.” He smiled, trying to get back in her good graces.
Imani rolled her eyes at him. “No one comes into my lab as you call it. I give the company whatever engine they asked me to build.”
“But that doesn’t mean that you don’t work on other things, right?”
His look was more guarded now, and Imani wondered what he was getting at. Did he know about the things she was actually working on? Impossible. No one knew what she was working on. She smiled sweetly and confidently. “I’m almost done with coding for the new smart building in New York. Did you order all of the materials I requested?” She knew that would distract him, and it did.
Soon they were both engrossed in talking about the project, and she could tell that he was excited and had realized that if they got this done under his watch his career would be set. It was at times like this that Imani thought he was at least half-human.
Colt took a deep breath before walking into the crowded restaurant. When he’d received Justin’s call, of course he’d known where Imani was. His team reported her every movement, and he had already been in turmoil knowing that she was so close. As soon as she’d arrived in the city, his concentration had been shot. He found himself texting his head of security, Mark, who was with Imani’s security detail, every five minutes, asking where she was and what was she doing. Finally, the guy took pity on him and started sending pictures. At that point he’d really descended into the world of lovesick obsession. He’d canceled his scheduled meetings and had sequestered himself in his office to gaze without interruption at the photos Mark sent.
He missed her like crazy, but he was determined to give her the freedom to choose someone younger. So, when Justin called him to advise that Imani was having lunch with another man, while his heart bled at that knowledge, he had no intention of intervening. If this guy was who she wanted, then so be it.
“Mudderfuck almost put his hand on her ass,” Justin had grouched.
Colt had pinched the bridge of his nose with a whisper of a headache teasing in the background. “Was she happy with him touching her?” he’d asked tiredly.
“Fuck no. She pushed him away.”
Colt had sat up straighter in his chair and fired a few more questions at his brother. “Who the fuck is he? How old is he? Is she okay? Why the fuck did you leave her with him?”
To his brother’s credit, he tried to answer each question in the same rapid-fire fashion as he was being asked. “I Googled his ass. Mudderfucker thinks he’s Casanova. He has already posted a picture of her on his Facebook page.”
“What the fuck?” Colt listened as Justin ranted and raved about Imani’s date. He even managed to smile a few times at his brother’s anger on his behalf. However, when Colt heard that Marcus was about two years older than him, he bolted from his chair, hung up the call with his brother without saying goodbye, and was almost running when he left his office to go to the restaurant. He was in full-on aggressive-male mode when he arrived at the entrance of the restaurant. Although he still maintained the same level of fitness he’d had in the Army, he was out of breath and his heartbeat way too fast. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was getting himself worked up because he was way too excited to see Imani. He was so jacked at the knowledge that he’d soon have her next to him that he could barely walk straight. I’ve said it before, but it bears repeating. I’m so fucked!
He’d just greeted Imani’s security detail when the maître-d’ recognized him and immediately escorted him to Justin’s table, assuming he’d come in to meet with Justin.
Colt barely spared Justin a glance. He was too busy looking for Imani. He saw her and immediately had to look away. The sight of her was like a gut punch, but by keeping his gaze on her partner, who seemed to be solely focused on Imani, he was at least able to mute some of that dizzying emotion he was feeling for Imani.
She looked up and saw him when he was a few feet from their table. And he was only aware of that because that was when her lunch partner looked around to see what had distracted her. Perhaps he should
’ve thought about it before now, but it just dawned on him that Imani might not be too happy to see him. Remembering her numerous text messages, and him not responding to assist in pushing her away, he knew Imani was going to give him hell. With that thought in mind, he turned his head and gazed directly at her.
She held his gaze with all the hurt and hate he’d deliberately stoked. He flinched at the sight. Never had he wanted to hurt her. Take care of her, protect and love her, yes, he’d wanted to do all those things. That was until he realized that, by being in her life, he could possibly rob her of the opportunity to achieve a more fulfilling life with a man closer to her age. Someone she could grow old with, raise a family, or build something meaningful with. He didn’t want to limit her in any way.
“Good afternoon, sweetheart.” He leaned down to kiss her lips. She turned her head at the last moment, and his lips grazed her cheek.
Colt held her gaze when she turned back to him. He wanted to apologize, but he didn’t dare. She had to remain angry with him and stay the hell away from inadequate men like him.
“Trouble in paradise?” her lunch partner asked with a smirk.
Colt gave him a cold regard. “Whatever it is, it’s none of your fuckin’ business.” He was gratified to see that smugness diminish.
“Colton Ragnarson, I presume?”
“Colonel Colton Ragnarson,” Imani muttered. “The man risked his life on numerous occasions to allow your sorry ass to live in this country with the freedoms and liberties that you now enjoy. Show some respect.”
“My apologies, Colonel.” Marcus looked embarrassed at being reprimanded. “I was told that you’re a lawyer. I had no idea you served.”
Colt waved his hand to dismiss Marcus’ concerns. “You didn’t know. Let’s leave it at that.”
“Thank you. Imani gets quite annoyed at us in the shop if we don’t take the utmost care with the products for the military.”
“As it should be.” Colt was amused at the thought of Imani bossing everyone around like a little general. He moved his chair closer to her. Now that he was in the same room as her, sitting this close, he felt drawn to her and wanted to be as close as possible. “Tell me about what your company does for the military. Imani refuses to talk about it. She only tells me that she builds engines.”
Marcus choked on his drink, and he took a few moments to clear his throat before he was able to respond. “Imani does more than just build engines.” He looked at Imani as though he couldn’t quite believe she would say that. “Why would you tell him that?”
Imani shrugged. “It is, in essence, what I do.”
Marcus laughed. “That’s like saying Picasso draws stick figures.”
“Marcus, what we do is not up for discussion.”
Marcus grinned. “You mean what you do is not up for discussion. Because we all just go along with whatever vision you’ve got and have no clue what you’re up to until it’s rollout day.” He turned to Colt and said in a stage whisper, as though sharing a secret, “She’s brilliant like that and damn infuriating.”
“Are you trying to make me hurt you, Marcus?” Imani asked.
“Not at all, that would be too human of you, and you’re not like us mere mortals. Just letting your boyfriend know that this is mostly your show, and we are usually only along for the ride.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Imani muttered.
Colt chuckled. “Yeah, that would be too mediocre of a word for our relationship.”
“Now, you’re just being nonsensical,” Imani gritted out.
“Does that mean I still have a chance?” Marcus perked up.
“Not fuckin’ likely,” Colt growled and laced his fingers with hers. Ignoring her attempts to pull her hand out of his grasp, he pulled their joined hands into his lap. Instead of playing tug-o-war with him, she contented herself with digging her nails into his skin. He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it softly.
She glared at him and continued clawing at him.
He bit her knuckle.
She gasped and stilled. That seemed to have calmed her ass down.
He felt the acceleration of her pulse and was gratified by it.
When the meal Marcus and Imani had ordered arrived, the waiter also brought his usual dish of grilled sirloin and baby kale salad.
Imani stared at his plate in awe. “That’s not on the menu.”
Colt chuckled. He moved her plate of Caesar salad and grilled chicken to the side and proceeded to feed her from his plate. To his surprise, she accepted it as though it was the most natural thing in the world for him to be feeding her in the middle of a crowded restaurant.
She chewed thoughtfully and gave a tiny moan as the flavors burst on her tongue.
Colt had no idea why, but that little sound and the blissful expression on her face made his stomach muscles tighten and sent blood rushing to his cock. He gave her another forkful of salad and steak to watch her expression. He was a glutton for punishment.
Marcus stared at them with a bit of surprise and envy.
Colt ignored him. He was just happy that Imani had given up trying to pull her hand from his and obediently ate what he fed her. The waiter returned at some point during the meal to remove her original order and replaced it with an additional plate of steak and kale. Colt continued to feed Imani from his, and once that was finished, he grabbed the other plate and they finished that too. He even gave her sips from his glass of red wine. She took little sips but didn’t want a glass of her own. Imani wasn’t a big drinker, so he was surprised by her wanting his wine and made a show of placing his lips where hers had just departed. It felt as though they were engaging in full-on foreplay with every action. He loved it.
This lunch had turned from her fighting him to her seducing him. He held her hand even while they ate, and instead of fighting him as she did before, she shifted her body closer to him and absently stroked his thigh. He was acutely aroused when their second plate was taken away and their espresso arrived.
Throughout the meal, he’d peppered questions at Marcus, hoping that he would slip and give him some clue as to what Imani did for their company. But either out of secrecy concerns or fear of incurring Imani’s wrath, Marcus was very tight-lipped about what Imani’s job was, what she built. Their evasiveness made Colt even more curious.
Justin had stopped by their table about fifteen minutes before to let him know that he was headed back to the office.
Once their lunch was over and he’d paid the bill, Colt didn’t stand when Marcus did. He was still trying to calm the blood flow and wondered how the hell he could walk out of there when his cock was tenting his pants. At least the lunchtime crowd had thinned considerably.
“Imani, we still have a few things to go over. Are you sure you can’t accompany me to my hotel and continue this meeting there?”
“Even you’re not that stupid as to proposition my woman in front of me,” Colt drawled. “You do realize that I have hundreds of ways of inflicting pain without killing you, right?”
Marcus blanched.
“Imani’s coming back to the office with me so we can drive back to the ranch together.” He wasn’t about to let her leave with another man when she looked like sex on legs. He felt the need to make a primal claim. She was his, dammit.
Marcus left muttering under his breath.
As he disappeared from view, Imani pulled her hand from his clasp and stood.
“Where the hell are you going?” Colt was puzzled by her swift change in mood. One minute she was purring, almost ready to climb into his lap, and now she was glaring down at him.
“You ask that as though you give a damn,” she whispered fiercely.
It stunned him how defeated her voice sounded. “I do care.” His voice was just as soft as hers. There were still many occupied tables in the restaurant, and they were both cautious about the possibility of being overheard.
She scoffed.
“You
may not realize it now, but if nothing else, I care.”
She still looked skeptical, but then she suddenly asked, “You told Justin about us?”
Colt couldn’t tell if she was happy about that or not. Her emotions were all over the place, and he felt slightly off balance by that. “No, he guessed.”
“Um, figures,” she muttered.
“What does that mean? What’s going on with you?”
“Given your recent amnesia on how to use a telephone, you’re wondering what’s going on with me?”
“Come back to the office with me, and I’ll explain.”
“Really? And are you also willing to tell your family about us?”
“Telling my family isn’t necessary right now.”
“I disagree. I want them to know. I want Sarah to know, and then maybe a week like this will never happen again.”
“This week had nothing to do with my family knowing or not knowing.”
“What’s it about then?”
Colt wasn’t in any way prepared to talk to her about his fear in the middle of a restaurant. “Come with me.”
“Are you going to tell your family or not?”
When he didn’t respond immediately, she turned and marched from the restaurant with that model grace that he marveled at every time she did it. This time was no different. Seeing her walk away, with the view of her curvy ass displayed so provocatively in those white pants, fired his lust to new levels. He groaned in disgust at his lack of discipline. He’d been so mesmerized by the view of her ass that he didn’t immediately react to her leaving. However, as soon as it penetrated the lustful mist clouding his mind that she was leaving him, he sprang up and pursued her.
Imani was climbing into his Ferrari as he hurriedly exited the restaurant. “That’s fuckin’ hot as hell,” he muttered on seeing her handling of the powerful car as she spun the car around with expert precision in the middle of the busy street. It seemed that everyone milling around the entrance was just as impressed with this sexy woman handling an equally sexy car. He would never look at that car the same again.
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