Summer Vows (Arabesque)

by Alers, Rochelle

  Los Angeles

  Webb watched his brother’s approach. Raising his hand, he managed to get his attention. He knew by the expression on Basil’s face that he was less than happy. Unfortunately, he refused to let go of the fact that he hadn’t signed Justin Glover to Slow Wyne. Losing the singer to Serenity Records had made him virtually impossible to be around.

  When Basil joined him in the booth in a secluded corner of the restaurant, Webb signaled for the waitress to bring his drink order. He clapped a hand on Basil’s shoulder. “Either you lighten up or I’m going to forget you’re my big brother.”

  A wry smile twisted Basil’s full lips. “That will never happen.”

  Webb gave him a level stare. “Yes, it can if you don’t let me take care of your problem.”

  Reaching up, Basil loosened his tie, and unbuttoned the top button on his shirt. He’d wanted to go back to his house and relax, but Webb had insisted he meet him for drinks. “You know we could’ve done this back at my place. Have you forgotten I have a fully stocked bar?”

  “No, I haven’t. There’s a reason why I wanted to meet here.” He leaned closer. “I know you’re expecting to see your pretty little secretary later on tonight.”

  The intense gray eyes darkened until they appeared black in the dimly lit restaurant. “What does this have to do with Camille?”

  “Do you know why I told you to invite her to spend the night at the Beverly Hills hotel with you instead of you going to her place?”

  “No. Why?”

  “Because the bitch has been taping everything you do and say.”

  Slumping against the leather banquette as if he’d been shot, Basil closed his eyes. “When?”

  “When I got the footage back from Omar Thornton’s place, and it was clean I knew the only other person you might trade secrets with is your so-called executive assistant.”

  “So you bugged her place without telling me.” Basil’s tone was accusatory.

  “I knew if I’d asked or told you it wouldn’t have gone down, brother.”

  “At least you could’ve warned me beforehand.”

  “There wasn’t time. Our window of opportunity was so small that my men couldn’t take the risk the maintenance staff would miss their uniforms. They had to get in and out in under half an hour. But, instead of planting bugs, we found a few. All they had to do was splice the feed and when I viewed the footage I discovered your girl has been running off at the mouth.”

  “Do you know who put her up to it?”

  Webb touched his scarred cheek. “No. It doesn’t matter because she’s done.”

  Basil sat up straight. “What do you mean?”

  “She’s going to be out of town for a while. I know you liked her, brother, but she’d become a liability.”

  Basil noticed his brother said liked not like. He held up a hand. “Don’t tell me anymore.”

  He did like Camille—a lot more than he had a woman in a very long time. She was beautiful, sexy and went out of her way to please him. He paid her well, bought her expensive gifts and gave her several hundred dollars whenever he spent the night as spending money. If Webb was being truthful, then Camille was no different from their mother—a woman who’d taught him it was dangerous to trust.

  The waitress brought their drinks, smiling at him when she met his eyes. Reaching into the pocket of his suit trousers, he took out a solid gold money clip and handed her a hundred-dollar bill. “Keep them coming.” Normally he wouldn’t have more than two drinks, but this was one time he wanted to get drunk.

  Webb gave Basil a sidelong glance. His brother had always taken care of him. Now it was time for him to take care of Basil. He knew the record mogul would drink until he wouldn’t be able to stand. That’s when Webb would call his men to assist him carrying Basil out a side entrance. He would spend the night at Basil’s Beverly Hills’ home until he sobered up. Then they would put their heads together to decide what to do next.

  Chapter 9

  Ana found Key West to be everything she’d hoped it would be—and more. The streets, restaurants and shops overflowed with locals and tourists. Brightly painted houses, some with lawns decorated with shells, beads and plastic pink flamingos were in keeping with many of the eccentric inhabitants living and working on the island.

  The festive mood and energy reminding her of Carnivale. Hundreds of passengers disembarking from several cruise ships docked in the harbor also added to the throng of humanity, causing pedestrian jams along the narrow streets and alleys. There was something about the island that reminded her of some of the towns and cities she’d visited in Puerto Rico, the Dominican Republic and Salvador da Bahia.

  Tugging on Jacob’s hand, she pulled him into a gift shop. She knew he wasn’t the least bit interested in shopping, but hadn’t said a word in protest when she stopped to window shop, or if something did spark her interest enough to venture inside, while holding the bags with her purchases. She’d bought two bathing suits, several straw hats and gifts for her nieces and nephews, which left her with less than one hundred dollars in cash.

  Jacob, attempting to shield Ana’s body from the crush of tourists crowding into the small shop, asked, “What do you want now?”

  She glanced up at him over her shoulder, trying to read his stoic expression. They’d left the house without eating breakfast, and it was now after two in the afternoon and he’d mentioned stopping to eat, but Ana had wanted to finish shopping.

  “I saw a couple of toe rings I want to try on.”

  He stared down at her bare toes in a pair of leather sandals. “You don’t even wear rings on your fingers, yet you want to put them on your feet?”

  Ana followed his gaze, looking at her toes. There was a tiny chip on the big toe of her right foot and that meant she had to either find a salon for a mani/pedi or do it herself. A slight frown appeared between her eyes. For the first time since she’d come into her trust she was faced with a financial dilemma. Even when attending college and law school money was never a problem because her father paid her tuition, room and board, and deposited money into her checking account each month. Attending college and law school in D.C. had its advantages, because taxis and public transit had become her choice of transportation.

  “What’s wrong with toe rings?”

  “Nothing,” he said much too quickly. “I just didn’t figure you would wear one.”

  Moving closer to Jacob, Ana kissed his stubble. “I’m trying to tap into my bohemian inner child.” A pair of gold hoops had replaced the diamond studs, and today she’d worn a white poet’s blouse, faded jeans and blue-and-white-striped espadrilles.

  Splaying his fingers at the small of her back, Jacob steered Ana over to the showcase with an assortment of rings. After a brief wait, a saleswoman with a friendly smile came over to help them. He stared at the name tag pinned to the pocket of her blouse. Bernice’s deeply tanned weathered face reminded him of the fishermen who plied the waters for revenue or sport.

  “My girlfriend would like to see some toe rings,” he said, smiling.

  “Gold or silver?” the woman asked.

  “We’d like to see both,” he said before Ana answered.

  Ana squeezed his fingers, garnering his attention when Bernice opened the showcase to take out two trays of rings. “I don’t have enough cash to buy the gold ones,” she whispered.

  He winked at her. “Don’t worry about it, baby. I’ve got this.”

  Perched on a high stool, Jacob slipped tiny gold and silver rings off and on Ana’s middle toes. In a moment of madness he imagined slipping another type of ring on her hand: an engagement ring. He banished the thought as soon as it entered his head.

  Marrying Ana Cole wasn’t even a remote possibility. They were complete opposites who’d come from different worlds. She may have temporarily alt
ered her lifestyle but it was just that—temporary. Once she returned to Boca Raton everything they’d shared would be relegated to her past.

  Staring up at her, Jacob asked, “Which ones do you like?”

  Ana, who’d perched her sunglasses on the top of her head, met his eyes. “I don’t know. Which do you like?”

  “I think the gold one with the diamond is cute.”

  She wiggled her toes. Blue-white sparks reflected off the minute stone from an overhead light. “I like it, too.”

  Turning around, Jacob said, “We’ll take these.”

  Bernice pressed her palms together. “They’re the perfect fit for her feet.”

  Ana wound her arms around Jacob’s waist after he’d given the saleswoman his credit card. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

  Cupping her chin, he lowered his head and kissed her. It was more of a caress than an actual kiss, her lips parting under his tender sensual assault. The kiss, similar to the one in the shower earlier that morning, ended as quickly as it’d begun.

  Jacob stared into the large eyes filled with an emotion he could only interpret as trust. He’d become familiar with the look when assigned to witness protection. He gave her a tender smile. “You’re more than welcome, Princess. Where are we going next?”

  Ana allowed Jacob to help her down off the stool. She slipped on her sunglasses. “Let’s eat.”

  He cupped his ear. “I believe I hear a choir singing hallelujah.”

  Grinning, she swatted at him. “Very funny.”

  Jacob signed the receipt, and then pocketed it. He slipped on his sunglasses, grasped Ana’s hand and led her out of the shop that was becoming more crowded with each passing moment. He knew where he wanted to eat. The restaurant was the perfect place to begin the day and end the night.

  “Are you certain you don’t want any more oysters?” Jacob asked Ana. He’d recommended they eat at the Schooner Wharf Bar not only because of its open-air dining but also because of the food selections. He’d ordered the raw bar combination of shrimp and oysters.

  Chewing and swallowing a mouthful of avocado, she said, “Very certain.”

  Ana knew if she continued to eat off Jacob’s plate she never would finish her own salad made with blue crab and avocado over mixed greens, tomato and corn and red-pepper relish, accompanied by honey-mustard dressing. It’d taken her a while to decide whether to order the salad or conch and shrimp ceviche. What had surprised her about the restaurant was happy hour was from 7:00 a.m. to noon, and again from 5:00 p.m. to 7:00 p.m. Her gaze lingered on the Schooner Western Union, a 130-foot-long tall ship bobbing and rocking gently along the wharf.

  “That boat is magnificent.” There was a hint of wistfulness in her voice, because seeing the ship was a reminder of what she would’ve shared with her girlfriends if she’d been able to accompany them on vacation.

  “Do you get seasick?” Jacob asked when following the direction of her gaze.

  “No. I’m quite comfortable on or in the water.”

  “Would you like to go on a sunset cruise?”

  Her eyes sparkled, reminding him of polished smoky quartz. A fringe of lashes lowered once he gave her a long, penetrating stare. Jacob still hadn’t figured out what it was about Ana that made him say and do things that were totally out of character for him. Barging into the shower stall had left him so off-balance that it’d taken a while to gather his wits. At first he’d tried telling himself that she deserved the intrusion because she thought nothing of teasing him. Well, it hadn’t been the first time a woman had teased him and he knew it wouldn’t be the last. But then he’d never reacted to them in the way he’d reacted with Ana.

  He’d accused her of playing a dangerous game wherein there would be no winner. If they did make love Jacob knew it wouldn’t be easy for him to walk away. After all, he’d admitted to being practically family because he was her cousin’s godfather. There would be occasions in the future where they would run into each other at family gatherings, and he doubted whether the encounters would go as smoothly as he’d want.

  In the past whenever he’d ended a liaison with a woman Jacob had always made certain beforehand that there would be no possibility of reconciling. That was not to say he was unwilling to try to work out whatever particular problem plagued their relationship, but he didn’t believe in exacerbating a situation that was certain to become even more problematic. He’d already admitted to himself that he liked Ana, but not enough to become that emotionally involved with her.

  “I’d love to.”

  Jacob blinked as if he’d been in a trance. Why, he mused, hadn’t he realized the warm, smoky timbre of her voice? It was slightly husky, the register sultry, seductive. “Do you have plans for tomorrow night?” he teased, his expression deadpan.

  Ana laughed under her breath. “I’m going to have to call my boyfriend and ask him if he has made plans for tomorrow night. The last time I went out with a guy and didn’t tell him there was hell to pay.”

  Propping his arm on the table, Jacob rested his chin on the heel of his hand. “What did he do?”

  Ana scrunched up her pert nose. “He tied me to the bedposts with silk ribbons and fed me chocolate-covered strawberries.”

  Throwing back his head he laughed loudly, garnering the attention of diners from nearby tables. “That sounds a little kinky to me.”

  “It was.”

  He sobered quickly. “So, you like kinky?”

  “It all depends on who’s dispensing the kinkiness.”

  “Who are you, Ana?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Jacob lowered his arm and leaned over the table. “When I told you I was horny you said I was disgusting,” he whispered in Spanish. “Then you think nothing of walking around in lingerie that had me so turned-on I was afraid I was going to come right then and there. Fast forward—I get into the shower with you and you cover up your ta-tas and beaver like an innocent schoolgirl.” A rush of color darkened her face, but Jacob ignored it. “You’re what men call a tease. It’s come here, baby, then you flip the script when you put up the sign that says look but don’t touch. Is that what happened with you and that poor dude you brought to S.J.’s baptism? You told him or sent out signals that you were going to give him some, then changed your mind.”

  Eyes narrowing like a cat before attacking, Ana gave Jacob a withering glare. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she countered in Spanish. “He was asking to take what friendship we had to the next level when he knew when we’d begun dating that we would never be more than friends. And for you information I don’t tease men—”

  “What do you call walking around in near-transparent underwear?” he asked, cutting her off.

  Ana sucked her teeth. “That’s your problem if you have so little self-control. Like I said, I’m certain you’ve seen more on the beach.”

  “But I’m not living with those women, m’ija.”

  “We’re not actually living together.”

  “What are we then?”

  She smiled. “Roommates.”

  “That’s BS and you know it.”

  “It’s not BS,” Ana countered. “Why are you trying to make more of what we have?”

  “What is it we do have, Ana?”

  A pregnant silence ensued as they stared at each other. “I don’t know, Jacob.”

  “I do know that...” His words trailed off when a shadow fell over the table. Glancing up he saw someone from his past. Pushing back his chair Jacob stood up. “Kent! You old dog. What have you been up to?” He thumped the man’s back at the same time giving him a rough hug.

  “Other than couple of tours of Iraq, Afghanistan and a bum leg I’m as good as they come.”

  Jacob stared at the stocky blond man with whom he’d gone through basic training. “S
o, you stayed in?” he asked Wayland Kent.

  Wayland ran a hand over his military-style cropped hair, minute lines fanning out around large hazel eyes when he smiled. “I stayed in as long as I could. Got a medical discharge, sold my trailer, and me and the missus moved from Chattanooga, bought a houseboat, and we now live down here year-round. Are you still babysitting diplomats?”

  Jacob gave Ana a quick glance. She’d concealed half of her face behind the oversize sunglasses. Although she went through the motion of eating her salad he knew she’d overheard Wayland’s comment about him protecting diplomats. And it was the first time he’d ignored his instincts about bringing Ana to Key West. If they’d remained in Long Key, cloistered behind locked doors, then it appreciably decreased the risk of someone recognizing her or even having to explain her to those he knew.

  Yet there was something about her exuberance when she saw places she’d read about and had wanted to visit for half of her life that held him enthralled with her childlike delight. Ana continued to mystify Jacob. It was as if she was a child in a woman’s body. One moment she could be soft, teasing and without warning she’d become a siren, again teasing but this time it was so sexy and overt that he feared losing control. There weren’t too many times in his life when he hadn’t been in control. She claimed they were only roommates but he refused to acknowledge that. For him the sexual tension was so strong and thick it was palpable.

  “No. I’m now a federal marshal,” he said to Wayland.

  “So you’ve gone from one babysitting job to another.”

  “Wrong, Kent. I’m now a paper pusher.” He held out his arms. “Take a good look at a glorified bureaucrat in living color.” Jacob told him about his position at the Miami-based detention center.

  Wayland whistled. “You must have some serious juice to get desk duty. By the way, what are you doing down here?”

  “I’m on vacation.”

  He leaned in closer to Jacob. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your lady?”

  Jacob realized this was going to be the first test as to whether he and Ana would be able to pull off their pre-arranged subterfuge. “Princesa. Esto es mi compañero marino viejo, Wayland.”