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

by Melanie Schuster

  Paris sputtered and fumed and fussed, while Titus had to work even harder not to grin like a Cheshire cat. That’s why you don’t have her now, and why you’re never going to get her, he thought. I wish her brothers would come up in my face; I’ve got something for each and every one of them. Nobody’s going to get between Paris and me when this is all over. Nobody. Suddenly he didn’t have to work to hide his amusement because he realized at that moment that he meant every single word.

  ***

  The long afternoon was surreal; it was distinctly unsettling to see the sheer number of people thronging the sidewalks hoping to get a glimpse of their idols. It was equally unnerving to realize that as unlikely as it might be, there could be someone in that very crowd who was after Paris. It might be overkill on his part, but Titus couldn’t ignore the fact that someone had it in his or her mind to get to Paris, to hurt her in some way. The letters had stopped, but some one had cut the brake line on the company car she happened to be driving that fateful day. And that same person might have come to California to have another go at her; it was a distinct possibility. Titus’s people had intercepted an e-mail message to that effect. It read: “Going to Cali won’t protect you. You can’t escape me by going to La-La Land; I can get to you wherever you are. Go ahead and run, bitch, but you can’t hide.” It was mild, considering the vile and explicit nature of the first letters, but Titus had no doubt that the person meant every word of it and he was tired of playing cat and mouse games. He had a plan to bring the person out into the open and as soon as they got back to Atlanta, he was going to put the plan into action. He wanted Paris to be safe to go about her life unimpeded and in order to do that, the culprit had to be behind bars. The fact that Titus had a very personal agenda for wanting Paris out of his protective custody was another story altogether.

  He hated admitting it, but Paris and Billy made a striking couple as they walked the red carpet. Even though he absolutely hated the fact that Billy was wearing a custom tailored jacket made of the same fabric as Paris’s dress, they looked like an exquisitely matched set and the photographers and interviewers seemed to think so, too. Every few feet someone was asking them to stop and pose and they were interviewed several times before they made it to the theater. Paris’s eyes were as sparkling as the diamonds in her ears and her pretty mouth with the sexy red lipstick smiled radiantly. She charmed everyone she met and it seemed that most of the men there wanted to meet her. She was hugged and kissed and fawned over by most of the glitterati of Tinseltown and she was taking it all in stride.

  Titus noticed that the first few times when someone would interview Billy, they would ask who the beautiful lady at his side was. “I’m Paris,” she’d say with her beautiful, unaffected smile. In no time at all the other interviewers were greeting the couple as Billy and Paris, as word of his exquisite date spread. No one wanted to miss getting a picture of the most visually exciting couple at the event and their progress was slowed considerably as more and more people crowded around her, like she was a flame of pure radiance and they were love addled moths seeking her light. Titus was amused greatly by the spectacle, although his face never once betrayed his emotions. He was the consummate professional, keeping close to her but so low key he was almost invisible. Indeed, everyone was so taken with Paris and the way she looked holding tight to Billy’s hand Titus doubted that anyone would even remember he’d been present at the event. And no one would be happier than he when it was all over.

  Eventually, the evening was over and the little entourage was headed back to the hotel. Billy was triumphant, having won both the awards for which he was nominated, Best Original Song and Best Score. Paris was radiantly happy, flushed with the excitement of meeting so many Hollywood legends. They dropped in at several parties and were joined by Billy’s parents at one of the soirees. When they finally returned to their respective suites, Titus entered before Paris to make sure it was secure and did a thorough walk through before allowing her to enter. He looked at Billy who was standing in the doorway with Paris and it was all he could do not to toss the unsuspecting man out into the corridor. He did then next best thing, however, by holding the door open and nodding meaningfully at the door of Billy’s suite across the hall.

  “She’ll be fine. Goodnight,” Titus said tersely.

  Billy gave him a slow grin and opened his mouth to say something but the look on Titus’s face convinced him this was not the time and he abruptly bid Paris good evening and crossed the hall to his suite. Titus closed the door and leaned against it, his eyes caressing Paris from head to toe. She looked at him with her eyes narrowed and crossed her arms tightly.

  “Well, that was just incredibly rude! What’s the matter with you, Titus?”

  Titus’s eyes glowed with desire and he took a step towards Paris. “Don’t play with me, Paris. What do you think is the matter?” he said in a low voice full of heat.

  Her eyes widened and she stared at him mutely, and then took a step backwards. Titus smiled, and then took another step. “Aww, don’t run, Paris. Why are you running away from me?”

  Paris took another step backwards, then turned away from him and walked into the middle of the sitting room, looking over her shoulder at Titus. “I’m not running, I’m…I’m…why are you stalking me anyway? Can’t you be still for a minute?”

  Titus was right on her heels, so that when she stopped walking they practically collided, he was so close to her. “No, baby, I can’t be still. I can’t think, I can’t breathe, I can’t do anything unless I touch you right now,” he growled softly. “Can I touch you, Paris, can I please touch you?”

  They were standing an inch apart, close enough to feel each other’s heat. Paris closed her eyes and sighed raggedly. “Touch me where, Titus?” she whispered.

  He put his hands where he’d wanted them to be all night, placing his big warm palms on her curvy hips. “I want to touch you here, Paris,” he said in a soft, compelling voice. “And here,” he added as he slid his hands around to cup her bottom, flexing his fingers over the warm, firm mounds and pulling her even closer to his body, groaning when he felt her pressed against him. She hesitated about a nanosecond before putting her arms around his neck and rising on tiptoe so they could feel more of each other. They were trembling, shaking with need as he bent his head to hers, capturing her lips and tasting her honeyed sweetness with his tongue. The kiss went on for a long time, as they greedily took their fill, each of them satisfying the craving that never went away. When they were finally able to break away, it was Titus who groaned again, the sound rumbling from deep in his chest.

  “Paris, baby, I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he admitted. “I’m not supposed to be touching you but you look so damned pretty and I’m so crazy about you I can’t…”

  He stopped speaking when a thud on the other side of the door made him release Paris and set her aside, telling her to go in her bedroom and lock the door. He pulled his Beretta out of his jacket and pointed at the door with both hands. “Come out now. This is your only warning,” he said in a cold, even voice. It was apparent he was prepared to shoot as the door quickly opened to reveal Danny, Perry and Twyla standing there looking sheepish. Twyla had a thick tumbler in her hand, which she’d apparently been using to try to listen at the door and Danny gave her a look of disgust.

  “I told you that wouldn’t work. Now we’re busted and for what? We couldn’t hear a thing,” he said with a frown. “I can see you have a lot to learn from me, heifer. How are you going to spy on her if this is the best you can do?”

  Perry was laughing so hard tears were running down his face and Paris joined him. She had blithely ignored Titus’s order to go to her room and she saw the whole thing, including the humor in the situation. Everyone was laughing now except Titus who looked like he really wanted to use his gun; he just couldn’t decide who to pop a cap in first.

  Chapter Fifteen

  It was hard for Paris to admit it, but she was finally glad about her pr
otection. Since the investigation had proven that her brake line was cut deliberately in an attempt to kill her, she’d been a lot more receptive to his security methods. Especially since her return from California when her tormentor made another terrifying move on her. After that incident she was not only cooperative but she welcomed the security. Aidan had joined her in California as they were taping segments for Paris & Company. They flew back to Atlanta on the corporate jet and ended up driving home together. Terry Patterson, a member of Titus’s staff, trailed them. Terry was friendly, but intense and professional and Paris liked him a lot. She often had to tell him to slow down as he spoke so rapidly, but she had complete confidence in him.

  “I’ll be right behind you all the way and when we get to your house, I’ll pull in first to make sure everything is secure, okay?” Terry looked at her intently as he leaned into the open passenger window. He had big light brown eyes; short curly hair and he wore little oval wire rimmed glasses that made him look avant-garde instead of nerdy. Aidan was convinced he had a crush on Paris, something he teased her about as they drove.

  “I’m telling you, the man is smitten. If he didn’t work for Lord Voldemort he'd be hitting on you, no question about it,” he said gleefully. “Let’s face it, Paris, you’re a hot chick. I was watching you out there in California; those men were drooling over you. Perry, Billy, and every other man with two working eyes, they were all gaga over you. Girl, I saw Johnny Depp looking at you like you were a cherry lollipop and Sam Jackson was checking out your tushie, just to mention two of your admirers. And we won’t even talk about the way Lord Voldemort was behaving,” he added with a snort of laughter.

  Paris made a face and ignored Aidan’s remarks, although she had to ask him why he disliked Titus so much. Aidan frowned at the innocent question.

  “Are you kidding? Have you forgotten the night of bliss that turned into every woman’s nightmare? You were there, I believe, on the receiving end of what had to be the lamest, most egocentric speech I’ve ever had the displeasure of hearing paraphrased. You may have forgotten all about it, but I haven’t. I don’t like the guy because he treated you badly and I don’t forget things like that. I also don’t forgive them. Who the hell does he think he is, treating you like some crummy one night stand? He has some serious issues, Paris, and he doesn’t deserve a woman like you.”

  Paris was so surprised at the heated words from Aidan she couldn’t think of a single thing to say. By now they’d reached the house and Terry tapped his horn to remind Aidan to let him in the driveway first. They waited until Terry reached the garage and exited the car. He walked toward the house, looking around alertly. Suddenly he stopped walking and began cursing; using a string of expletives Paris would have never associated with him. He turned to Aidan’s car to indicate they should stay where they were, but Aidan was already out of the car. He ran to where Terry was standing and his skin turned even paler than normal. He tried to stop Paris but it was too late, she’d already gotten out of her seat and was walking toward the two men.

  “What is it? You guys look like you’ve seen a…” Her words turned into a gasp of horror as she saw what they had already seen; a dead cat was hanging from the light fixture on the side of the house. The next hour or so was a total blur, mercifully so because she was so sickened by what she’d seen. Titus had arrived on the scene in a very few minutes which would have made her suspicious if she hadn’t been in a state of shock. As it was, he allowed him to seat her in his car while the Atlanta police and his agents went over the scene with precise attention to every detail. She was comforted only slightly by Aidan holding both her hands and telling her over and over that it wasn’t Merlin.

  “Merlin is fine, Paris, he’s not even here. I took him to the cat sitter before I left for Cali. He’s not here, that’s not him, okay?”

  Paris nodded numbly, although it only made her feel marginally better. Merlin might be safe but the remains of a poor tortured animal were still on her porch. That animal died because of someone’s obsession with her, how could she live with that? She didn’t have long to contemplate her misery as Titus came to join her in the car. “You’re coming with me, Paris. Everything is going to be fine,” he promised and started the vehicle.

  They arrived at their destination in about twenty minutes. Paris was so numb she didn’t even question what was going on; she just rode with him in silence. When they arrived, he got out of the car to open her door and she allowed him to walk her to the door of what appeared to be a condominium. “Where are we?” she asked in a quiet, dull voice.

  “We’re at my place,” he answered.

  ***

  Without another word he led her into his living room and turned on the light. She looked around the room with great interest, suddenly eager to see where and how Titus lived. He led her over to a big black leather sofa and made her sit. He sat next to her and put his arm around her shoulder. “It’s going to be fine, Paris. Believe it or not, every time something like this happens it gives us more to go on. This is all going to be over in a couple of weeks, count on it.”

  He was pleased when she relaxed against him and said, “I know it will, Titus. I know you’re going to find out who’s doing this and bring him in.”

  Titus pulled her into his arms and held her for a while, letting his strength comfort her. Then he surprised her with a simple question. “What makes you think it’s a man, Paris?”

  She pulled away from him and studied his face. “But it has to be,” she murmured. A puzzled look came over her face and she looked deep in thought. She stared into the living room at nothing in particular, turning back to Titus. “Well, I guess it could be a woman, but what makes you think that?”

  “Let me get you something to drink and I’ll tell you,” he said, kissing her forehead before getting up to go into the kitchen. Paris looked around the room with open curiosity while he played host. It was a big room, unremarkable in design but wholly adequate, or it would have been had it not been for Titus’s décor or lack of it. There was, besides the big black leather sofa, a matching loveseat on the opposite wall, and a huge chair of the same design with an oversized ottoman in front of it. Aside from a floor lamp next to the sofa, there wasn’t anything else in the room except for the biggest television she’d ever seen. The gigantic screen was parked in front of the wall with the windows and would no doubt block out most of the light during the day. The chair was positioned in front of the television, so it was obvious that this was where Titus spent much of his time. Paris had a sudden urge to test the chair out and rose from the sofa to go try it out. It was sinfully comfortable; she sank into its depths and sighed. However its comfort didn’t make up for the fact that this was a horrible looking room.

  Paris shook her head as she looked around the space; there wasn’t a plant, a flower, a clock, vase or a single picture to indicate that a human lived there. It was the most uninviting space she’d ever seen. There was a dining room off the living room and it was filled with exercise equipment. Where there should have been a table and chairs, there was a treadmill, a stationary bike, and a contraption she’d seen advertised on television touted to give the user a perfect physique in mere weeks. Again, nothing to indicate that this was anyone’s home; she’d seen furniture store displays with more warmth. She was making a sound of disapproval when Titus came back with a small tray. It held a mug filled with some kind of hot concoction and a plate of butter cookies. They were the kind that came in the ubiquitous round tin available at any drug or discount store, but it was a sweet gesture nonetheless. Paris smiled as he set the tray on a small table next to the chair. She took a sip from the mug and said “Mmm, that’s delicious! What is it?”

  If the idea hadn’t seemed so incongruous, she’d have sworn the tips of his ears reddened when Titus answered. “It’s warm milk,” he said gruffly. “My grandmother used to make it for me.”

  Paris licked her lips with pleasure and continued to sip the soothing drink. It was laced with hon
ey and had a touch of cinnamon and nutmeg. She also detected another subtle flavor, a little something extra. She gave Titus a teasing smile.

  “I don’t think your grandmother put brandy in hers, now did she?”

  Titus laughed out loud. “I refuse to answer that on the grounds that it might incriminate a very sweet old lady. Now let’s talk about Gayle Rodgers.”

  ***

  He changed the subject so fast that Paris blinked. She cradled the mug in her hands and stared at him. “What about Gayle? You don’t think she had anything to do with all this, do you?”

  Titus had seated himself on the end of the sofa nearest Paris, leaning forward with his elbows on his knee as he returned her gaze with an intensity she knew all too well. “Paris, in the past weeks we’ve interviewed everyone involved with Paris & Company, everyone you work with throughout The Deveraux Group, your neighbors, friends and the people with whom you do business. We did it as discreetly as possible, of course, don’t get upset,” he soothed as he saw storm clouds gathering in her expression. “Here’s the thing, though, everyone loves you,” he said with a smile. “You have a lot of friends and admirers, Paris. No one had anything bad to say about you, in fact, they said some really wonderful things. But when we asked if there was anyone who might have a grudge against you or want to do you harm, one name came up time after time and that was Gayle Rodgers. We’ve been investigating her activities since she was terminated and guess what we found out,” he asked quietly.

  “I don’t know, Titus? What was it?” she said in a voice barely over a whisper.

  “We found nothing, Paris. She seems to have vanished from the earth and unless she has some extra-terrestrial contacts out there, that’s not possible. She’s hiding out, which makes the idea that she’s up to something a possibility.” He let that sink in for a moment, and then increased the intensity of his stare. “Tell me everything you know about her, baby.”