The Closer I Get to You (Cochran/Deveraux Series Book 8)

by Melanie Schuster

  “Nina looked just beautiful, didn’t she?” Paris sighed. “She looked like a doll in that dress. And John looked like he was ready to grab her and run out of the church!” she laughed.

  Angelique agreed. “I’m surprised he made it through the ceremony. Any fool could tell all he wanted to do was be alone with his bride. It was so cute. And the way he kissed her after the vows, ooh, honey, I have to say it inspired me,” she said with a wicked giggle.

  “Oh, so that’s why you and Donnie disappeared from the reception,” Paris said knowingly. She was reclined on a chaise in the corner of the bedroom, pointing an accusing finger at her cousin. Angelique was sitting at her antique vanity table, a recent gift from her husband. She put down the big sable brush she used to dust loose powder across her nose and gave Paris an arch smile of her own.

  “Yes, we left early and yes, it was for the very reason you imagine, because we couldn’t keep our hands off each other another minute. I’m surprised we made it all the way home, to be honest. We’re trying to make another baby and we seem to want to work on it constantly. But,” she drawled, “We didn’t leave before we saw you and Titus Argonne making love on the dance floor. We definitely didn’t miss that, cuz.”

  Paris threw a small satin pillow at Angelique, protesting the whole time. “Angel! We were just dancing, that’s all. You don’t have to make it sound like we were dry humping out in front of everybody, I have more class than that,” she sniffed

  Angelique deftly caught the pillow and tossed it back. “Okay, I apologize. I didn’t mean you were a-bumpin’ and a-grindin’, I just meant you were so caught up with each other it looked really sexy and romantic. It was like a tango without movement, if that makes any sense. And I’m not the only one who thought so, your brothers were staring at you so hard they could probably see what color underwear y’all were wearing. How did they all manage to be here together anyway?”

  Paris stifled a scream by pressing her face into the poor pillow. “Girl, don’t get me started on those lunkheads! They’re all going to some legal conference in Chicago and they decided to come to the wedding since Detroit is so close by. The four of them hardly ever get to come to family affairs together because if one of them isn’t on some big case another one is out of the country or has to give a speech or something. I think the last family wedding they all attended was Bennie and Clay’s,” she reflected. “Anyway, they performed in true Deveraux fashion. If it hadn’t been for Daddy, somebody would have ended up in the county lock-up last night,” she said in disgust before filling Angelique in on the details.

  Angelique didn’t help matters by laughing as Paris recounted how her brothers had practically thrown down a gauntlet for Titus. “I’m sorry, girl, I didn’t mean to laugh, it’s just that I’m picturing the whole thing in my head and it’s pretty hilarious. They just don’t want to admit their little sister is all grown up. How did Titus react?”

  Paris’ face turned dreamy as she recalled how Titus had acted coolly disinterested in her sibling’s histrionics. “Honey, it didn’t bother him in the least. You know how he is, relaxed and in control all the time. So very different from some other men I might mention but won’t. Sometimes I think our fathers wound up with the wrong sons,” she said wryly. Both women laughed at the truth of that statement.

  Their fathers were brothers. Angelique’s father was the late Clayton Arlington Deveraux Senior, and before his death he’d been a most formidable man. Tall, handsome, charming and ruthless, he was hot tempered and impulsive and made as many enemies as friends. His sons, however, were calm and rational, all of them wealthy and successful but none as flamboyant as their father. Paris’s father was the opposite of his brother. Not physically, both men were tall and handsome. But in every other way they were poles apart.

  Julian Deveraux was quiet, refined and considered to be one of the leading legal minds in the country. His name was often on the short list for the Supreme Court, an appointment he refused to consider. He preferred his life as a justice in the State Supreme Court of Louisiana. He was levelheaded, persuasive and was never known to raise his voice in anger; he had other ways of getting his point across. His sons, however, were brilliant renegades, all with fiery tempers and aggressive personalities who had already garnered reputations that bordered on legends, not just in Louisiana, but everywhere they traveled.

  Angelique looked thoughtful as she pondered the truth of Paris’s remark. “It’s true; my brothers are more like your daddy than our own father. They’re much more easygoing and laid back than your brothers. But you must admit those boys are fun,” she pointed out.

  Paris laughed as she recalled how they had danced the night away. Her brothers were excellent dancers and they made it their business to see that every lady in the place danced as often as she liked. “Yes, they are,” she said fondly. “Once they stopping pouting and trailing me around the reception like bloodhounds, it was a good time being with them. They all apologized before we left the reception and we made up before they left for the airport. I really do adore all of my brothers and you know that. They were my rock when I was growing up. They always made me feel like I could do anything, they treated me like I was Superwoman. Hard to live up to sometimes, but it made me the woman I am today.”

  Angelique glanced at the small digital clock on her dressing table. “We’d better get dressed if we’re going to get to Grosse Pointe for the cookout. John and Nina are going to be there, too. They spent the night in some posh hotel, but they said they’d be at the party today. Now when are they actually going on their honeymoon? Nobody seems to leave right after the wedding anymore,” she said reflectively.

  “They’re leaving next week, going to the Caribbean for a couple of weeks,” Paris said. “They planned it so it would coincide with John’s semester break. And you’re right, the norm used to be to take off the day after the wedding but people have to work in a long vacation where they can these days. One of my production assistants got married on a Saturday and was back to work on Monday because her husband couldn’t get vacation until the next week. Doesn’t seem as romantic, I guess, but that’s modern life for you.”

  Both women turned to the door as Donnie’s Aunt Ruth tapped on the doorframe. “Good morning, ladies. I was just about to make a pot of coffee and wondered if you wanted to join me?”

  Angelique smiled brightly. Her husband’s aunt had become one of her very favorite people and she always loved entertaining her. “We’d love to, Aunt Ruth. Give us a couple of minutes to throw on some clothes and we’ll be down.”

  Paris took note of Aunt Ruth’s shapely figure in a chic and casual outfit consisting of a jogging suit in cream with red trim and red K-Swiss running shoes. “You’re looking awfully good for this hour of the morning. Have you been out already?”

  Ruth nodded with a smile. Her honey colored complexion was smooth and youthful and her silky hair was cut in an audaciously smart style with a long tail accenting the nape of her neck. The tail was even tipped with a gold highlight. Her clear green eyes sparkled as she answered Paris’s question. “I took my usual walk after breakfast. Even though I’m away from my gym I wanted to get in a little exercise so I stay nice and limber. So I did my yoga and walked a few miles. This is such a lovely neighborhood it’s always a pleasant walk. Come on down when you’re ready,” she invited as she turned to go down to the kitchen.

  Soon they were all seated at the breakfast table enjoying Ruth’s excellent coffee and the cinnamon toast she’d made to accompany it. The wedding was still the main topic of conversation, naturally. Ruth was particularly happy that John Flores had found love with Nina Whitney because in a roundabout way John was a part of her family. She considered him a nephew, even though they didn’t share the same blood. John’s father, Big Benny Cochran, had been married to her late sister Lillian when John was conceived and Ruth had arranged for the baby to be adopted by her dear friends Consuela and Nestor Flores. No one knew about it except Benny and Ruth, althou
gh the burden of secrecy had taken its toll on Ruth. She was extremely relieved to have the story out in the open at last, and truly grateful that Benny and Lillian’s other children didn’t despise her for helping Benny cover up the proof of his one time infidelity. And the fact that his half siblings had accepted him into the family was something else that brought joy to Ruth’s heart.

  “I’m very happy that all my nephews and my niece have married so well. A wonderful marriage is the cornerstone of a happy life. Marriage can be a great adventure,” she mused. “Angelique can tell you all about it, Paris. You can look at her and see how happy she is. I’m telling you this because I have a feeling your turn is next,” she teased.

  Paris’s eyes got huge and she almost dropped her cup. “Umm, what do you mean, Aunt Ruth?” She stopped and covered her mouth with an apology in her eyes. “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t call you that, should I?”

  Ruth waved her hand to indicate it was of no importance. “Honey, you can call me Ruth, Aunt Ruth, or whatever you feel comfortable with. We’re family, aren’t we? I mean with all these Cochrans and Deverauxes marrying each other we’re all just one big happy, so don’t worry about it. And don’t change the subject. You and that young man seem quite involved. If you aren’t now you will be soon and you make a beautiful couple. Why are you being coy about it?”

  Angelique laughed at the look of surprise on Paris’s face. “Aunt Ruth doesn’t hold back. What comes up comes out, so be prepared. And she’s right, you know she is.”

  Paris sighed and gave both women a bashful grin. Then she moved her cup out of the way and leaned forward onto the table. “Okay, Aunt Ruth, this is the scoop. I’ve had a mad thing for Titus for a few years now. When I was interning at The Deveraux Group I saw him for the first time and I went for him big time but I was so shy around him I couldn’t put two words together. He’s always been really sweet to me; he never acted like I was a moron even though I always managed to behave like one when I was around him. Anyway, I guess it was at Adam and Alicia’s wedding that I was able to just talk to him like a normal person. That’s when we started really talking and getting to know each other and we’ve been dating ever since. Not as much as I’d like because I’ve been really busy with the show and he’s been doing a lot of work out of the country. But,” she smiled and the color in her cheeks intensified, “things do seem to be heating up.”

  Before Ruth could comment, the back door opened and Donnie entered with the dogs, Pippen and Jordan, and the couple’s little daughter Lily Rose, who ran to her mother with her usual bubbly smile. “Mommy, we’re home! I missed you, Mommy!”

  Angelique gathered the little girl up and kissed her soundly. “Mommy missed you, too! I’m so glad you’re home. We’re going to see Uncle Alan and Aunt Tina, doesn’t that sound like fun?”

  Ruth was watching Paris’s face and smiled into her cup at the expression she found there. Paris was looking as though she was just realizing that marriage and motherhood were real possibilities in her life. Ruth started to tease the younger woman but decided not to say a word. She’ll figure it out on her own. It’s always better when it’s a surprise, she thought sagely.

  Chapter Two

  “Okay, I’m ready. How do I look?” Paris asked. She was turning around so that Angelique could inspect her outfit.

  “You look fabulous. That color is wonderful on you,” she approved.

  It was a delightful shade of deep peach that flattered Paris’s creamy skin in the same way the outfit highlighted her best assets. The top was a gauzy linen and rayon blend, cut on the bias to flow gently over her curves. It was strapless but it fit so well there was no cleavage visible. And there was a clever necklace-like attachment that circled her neck and added additional stability to the top, which flared out into a handkerchief hem. It showed off her sculptured collarbones and firm, toned arms and it also flattered her waistline. She wore it with a pair of low-rise ankle skimming slacks in the same shade of peach that were just snug enough to emphasize her figure and not disguise it. On her feet were flat leather sandals in bronze that showed off her perfectly pedicured toes. Her thick hair was worn in loose waves and she had on chandelier earrings with tiny gold beads that drew the eyes to her face with its high cheekbones, flawless complexion and the tiny freckles that danced across her nose. She looked wonderful and she smelled very feminine and romantic. Angelique repeated her earlier compliment.

  “You look even prettier than usual. Titus is going to be knocked out, girl. We’ll be ready to leave in about ten minutes,” she said as she re-combed Lily Rose’s hair.

  Paris cleared her throat discreetly. “Umm, Titus is actually going to pick me up,” she said shyly. “He should be here in about five minutes.”

  Just the then the doorbell rang and Paris’s eyes got big again, but she was smiling. “I think my date is here,” she said. “I’ll see you ladies in a few,” she added as she went down the stairs to greet Titus.

  He was talking to Donnie in the living room when she made her entrance. He immediately stood up and held out his hand to her, a hand that she took with no hesitation as she walked towards him.

  “Paris, you get more gorgeous every time I see you,” he said in a voice only she could hear.

  The look in his eyes was so sincere she had no choice but to believe him. She gave him a very private smile and they chatted with Donnie for a few minutes before leaving in Titus’s rental car. As they approached the car, Paris impulsively told him how nice he looked, which was true. He was wearing well-worn jeans that nevertheless bore a knifelike crease, and a long sleeved patterned rayon shirt that was untucked with the sleeves rolled up. It was in a shade of blue that really brought out his eyes and almost made up for the fact that she couldn’t see his butt, which was one of her favorite views in the world. Besides being very tall, Titus had a gorgeous body, hard and muscular and with his tawny skin, oddly colored eyes and sandy brown hair, he was just too handsome for words. His face was hard and masculine with high cheekbones and his eyes had the slightest slant that gave him an oddly Asian look at times. Right now he just looked sexy, so much so Paris could feel it in the pit of her stomach. It was a strange tickling feeling that seemed to be snaking its way around her body. It wasn’t an

  Titus seated her and made sure she fastened her seat belt before getting behind the wheel. He reached for his sunglasses, giving her one more devastating look before putting them on. “Paris, you do look tempting in that outfit,” he drawled.

  “I do?” she murmured.

  “You do. You look good enough to eat. Makes me want to taste you, just to see if you’re as sweet as I think you are,” he said, leaning towards her with a trace of a smile.

  Without realizing she was moving, Paris was drawn towards him, leaning in just enough so that their lips met. It was a gentle, tender kiss, but it was enough to triple the sensations that were rippling over her like the pattern left in a pond when a pebble touches its surface. Her eyes flew open when she heard him groan.

  “Even sweeter. We’d better get going before I lose all my self-control around you. You’re too tempting for my own good, Miss Paris.”

  He started the car and they took off, but not before he reached over and reclaimed her hand.

  ***

  By the time they reached Grosse Pointe, Titus wished he had on anything but the jeans in which he was attired because his body’s interest in Paris was overwhelming. He was way too aware of his unruly male anatomy in the confines of the jeans and the only thing that would keep him from total exposure was his loose-fitting, untucked shirt. His reaction to Paris was so strong he had to exercise even more control than he normally did. If there was anything Titus proud of, it was his discipline. He had more resolve and steely determination than ten men and it governed every aspect of his life. He didn’t make rash decisions; he made coolly calculating ones that always paid off in his favor. In his line of business he couldn’t afford to be careless. Titus was a graduate of West Point and after
his tours of duty in the Army he parlayed his training in military intelligence and his law degree into a firm that specialized in investigations and corporate security. Everything about his work required precision, deliberate procedures that resulted from intense research and observation. But right now, alone with Paris in the relatively close quarters of the car, all he could think about was her.

  She was chatting away about something but at the moment he couldn’t have said what it was because she was stroking his hand while she was talking and it was driving him crazy. He was holding her left hand in his and she was caressing the back of it with her right hand, a gentle, tender touch. He knew without being told that she wasn’t deliberately trying to arouse him. God help him if she ever decided to do that, he’d lose his mind for sure. But the soft pressure of her fingertips against his skin was heightening his awareness of her and creating sensations in his body that were impossible to ignore. Titus glanced over at her, thankful for the camouflage his sunglasses offered him; he could only imagine the raw heat that was in his eyes as he devoured her with a look.

  They finally reached their destination, the big brick home of Alan Cochran and his family. He was relieved to be able to park the car and get out because the light, sweet fragrance of Paris’s perfume had assailed his nostrils during the entire ride and was bringing him to a dangerously high level of arousal. He lectured himself as he went around the car to open her door; he hadn’t felt this crazy since he was a teenager. Then he opened the door and held out his hand to Paris. She turned to the side and gracefully got out of the car, tilting her head up to smile at him. He stared down at her, looking so carefree and sensual he had to kiss her, had to feel her luscious lips under his mouth. That would be enough to bring him back to his senses. It was just a quick kiss, their lips touched briefly and that was all. But the innocent little caress didn’t have the effect he’d planned; instead of dousing his desire it heightened it. He turned abruptly to get the bottles of expensive wine he’d brought out of the back seat, glad to have something to distract his attention even for a moment.