Wicked Intentions

by Linda Verji

  Shit.

  This situation was getting complicated by the minute and his feelings thornier by the day. Instead of easing his need for her, their mating had only increased it. When he wasn’t with her, he was thinking about her. When he wasn’t cussing her and her mother for putting them in this situation, he was trying to figure out ways to protect her.

  When he wasn’t finding ways to get more information on her, he was wondering if it’d be easier to just ask her where Eve was. But she wouldn’t tell him, would she? Their conversations had showed him one thing, Shakira was loyalty personified. Something told him that despite Eve’s sins, the allegiance still applied.

  He sighed in frustration. Why was everything so complicated?

  “…you know if Charlie is alive he’s gon’ come back for his thumb-drive,” London said on-screen, drawing Nathan’s immediate attention. What thumb-drive?

  “Charlie’s dead.” Shakira frowned uncertainly as she handed London a glass of juice.

  “Keep telling yourself that.” After taking a healthy gulp of the juice, London asked, “Have you cracked it yet?”

  “Not yet and I’ve tried everything.” Shakira sighed. “Can we change the topic?”

  Don’t! Nathan mentally begged. The thumb drive might be the clue to this Charlie fiasco.

  “Okay,” London shattered his hopes. She reached into a pocket and extracted a folded piece of paper and handed it to Shakira. “Look what I found.”

  Nathan zoomed in on the glossy paper. The moment Shakira unfolded it, he recognized it as one of Extreme Expression 104’s flyers.

  “Your boo is holding auditions for dancers, singers, actors and comedians-”

  “I am not hooking you up,” Shakira interrupted.

  “Come on. What’s the point of sleeping with the boss if you’re not gon’ throw some favoritism our way.”

  “No.” Shakira shook her head. “Besides, I thought the Xin Monsters valued their art too much to let the mainstream suck the life out of it.”

  “A bitch’s gotta make money and if the mainstream is where it’s at…”

  Their conversation gave him an idea; a way to boost his campaign to ingratiate himself into Shakira’s good graces. After muting the conversation and minimizing the screen, he called his personal assistant. “Kasey, I need you to prepare a VIP audition invite for the Xin Monsters. I think they perform at that rockers club near L&G, but I’m not sure.”

  “I’ll find them,” Kasey assured him. Then before he could end the call, Kasey asked, “Mr. Hollis, did you find the card I set on your desk?”

  “Yes, I did.” He threw his eyes at the card that lay at the edge of his desk half out of the embossed cream envelope. “Thanks.”

  Once his conversation with Kasey was over, he grabbed the card. His gaze traced the gold writing that marred its surface.

  The honor of your presence is required at the marriage of Edya Landa-Hollis to her betrothed, Winston Fraser.

  What was she playing at?

  It was the first thing Nathan asked his brother when he called him a few minutes later. “What’s she playing at?”

  “Well, good morning to you too.” Ezekiel ‘Zeke’ Hollis’s voice sounded over the phone.

  “It’s afternoon.”

  “Not where I am,” Zeke responded easily. “And who’s playing what?”

  “Mother,” Nathan clarified. He didn’t go into questions into his brother’s location because as CEO of the Landa Group of Hotels, Zeke was always in some different part of the world or other. Fingering the card, he said, “I just got a card inviting me to her wedding with…” He scanned the words again. “…some guy called Winston.”

  “Oh!”

  “You knew about this?”

  “The wedding, yes. Your invitation, No.”

  “I didn’t even know she was getting married,” Nathan complained. He tapped on the keyboard once more bringing up the view of Shakira and London. His eyes followed them from the kitchen back to the living room as he asked Zeke, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because you told me never to talk to you about her,” Zeke drawled.

  “Like that’s ever stopped you before.” Nathan guffawed. The one thing he appreciated was that despite his feud with his mother, he still had a strong relationship with his brothers. “So? What’s the deal? You against this marriage or something?”

  “Yeah,” Zeke confirmed. “I was hoping they’d break up. The guy’s some hippie do-gooder who thinks pot should be legalized and all large companies should be doing more to reduce the number of homeless people.”

  Just the imagery was enough to draw a chuckle from Nathan. “Mother’s going to ruin his life.”

  “Exactly!” Zeke released a heavy breath. “But what can you do? The kid’s in love.”

  “You never know. He might be the guy to change her,” Nathan said though he didn’t believe it for one minute. Edya was like a rock; solid, unmoving and resistant to change. Her firm ideas of how life was supposed to be had pushed Nathan away along with three husbands. Winston would be no different. “Do you think the invitation was a mistake?”

  “Mother never makes mistakes.”

  No, she didn’t, which puzzled him. They’d ignored each other for over a decade and she was now sending him cards to her wedding? What was she up to?

  “So will you come?” Zeke interrupted his thoughts.

  “Are you kidding me?” Of course he wasn’t going anywhere near Edya. She’d almost destroyed him. He wasn’t about to give her another chance to try her hand at it.

  “She’s been asking a lot about you,” Zeke informed him.

  “What’d you tell her?”

  “The usual. You’re okay. Got your own thing,” Zeke summarized. “Speaking of things you got…how’s Shakira?”

  “Ah, Man, Complicated!” Nathan sighed tiredly as he explained what was going on with Shakira. “And now they think she’s also involved in the disappearance of her ex’s girl and some FBI agent.”

  “I think you should listen to your PI and hand this over to the cops,” Zeke advised. “This girl could be dangerous.”

  “I told you she didn’t kill those people.”

  “How’d you know?” Zeke asked, “And if you really believe that why’d you have surveillance on her?”

  “The surveillance is for her mother.”

  “Nate, Come on,” Zeke berated. “It’s just twelve thousand dollars. Is it worth risking your life over? Just hand her over to the cops and get her out of your life.”

  Nathan didn’t answer.

  “Or don’t you want her out of your life?”Zeke asked, correctly interpreting his brother’s long pause. When Nathan didn’t answer that question either, Zeke sighed, “Damn.”

  Nathan’s thoughts exactly. He said, “Look, Don’t worry about it. I’ll figure it out.”

  “Of course I’ll worry.” Zeke’s voice rose with his words. “You’re shacked up with some girl who could be a killer for all we know and falling in love with her, and I’m not supposed to worry?”

  “I’m not falling in love,” Nathan protested. He was not falling in love.

  “I’m coming in next weekend for Mother’s wedding.” Zeke ignored his protest. “I want to meet this girl.”

  “We all want a lot of things, it doesn’t mean we’ll get them,” Nathan retorted smartly. At thirty five, Zeke was older than Nathan by a mere four years and Danny by six years, but when he got into his ‘daddy-mode’, as Nathan and Danny called it, you’d think he had thirty years on them.

  After the death of their father and grandfather, and pushed by Edya, Zeke had taken on the man-of-the-house mantle and the full weight of the Landa-Hollis name on his twelve year-old shoulders. Where Nathan had resisted the mold their mother had tried to carve him into, Zeke had walked to the guillotine without a word of protest.

  He’d taken over every responsibility Edya had thrown his way with a stoicism that had eluded Nathan. Sometimes Nathan wondered if h
e was even happy. It couldn’t be easy having to deal with Edya and the empire day in day out. It was this thought that had Nathan sighing. “Fine, you can meet her.”

  “Try not to completely fall for her before then.”

  “Yes, Father,” Nathan joked. “I’ll try but it’s going to be so hard.”

  It was only once he ended his call with Zeke that Nathan realized that it really was going to be hard to stop himself from falling for Shakira.

  CHAPTER 13

  Two days later, Shakira stood in kitchen, grimacing and holding the cell-phone a distance away from her ear as her best friend tried her best to make her permanently deaf.

  “Aaaaaaaaah,” London let out another ear-piercing scream. “Aaaaaaaaah. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Aaaaaaaaah.”

  When the screaming subsided, Shakira tentatively moved the phone back to her ear. “Are you done?”

  “You’re like the best friend everrrr,” London squealed happily.

  “Tell me something I don’t already know.”

  “I’m gon’ let that slide cause you-hooked-ya-girl-up,” London said each word precisely. “Thank you.”

  “Okay?” Shakira’s brow furrowed in confusion. “How did I hook my girl up?”

  “Look at you trying to be humble,” London dismissed with a chuckle. “Thank you for talking to Nathan. We just got our VIP invite to the auditions. Enzo and the boys are stoked. Thank you.”

  Before Shakira had a chance to say she had no idea what the hell London was talking about, her friend ended the call on another eardrum-bursting scream. However, she’d gotten enough from the fragmented conversation to know that Nathan’s generosity knew no bounds.

  She smiled.

  Having to ask him to include the Xin Monsters on his roster had brought a bad taste to her mouth. Only a few hours before work she’d been debating the pros and cons of asking. Though Extreme Expressions was new, it had generated quite the buzz on the streets. According to the media a lot of indie artists were getting their big start from the weekly shows that the performance arts school opened to the public.

  London had been ‘singing’ about being a singer for as long as Shakira had known her, and a place on Extreme Expressions would catapult her closer to her dream. Nathan, on the other hand, had already done so much for Shakira. Asking him for any more favors felt wrong. She’d decided to do it anyway because, despite her discomfort with begging, this was for her best-friend. Fortunately, Nathan had been a step before her and acted before she had to ask.

  I need to thank him.

  Tucking the cell-phone back into the pocket of her overalls, Shakira peeped into the oven to make sure the lasagna was okay before making her way to his room.

  The master bedroom spelled masculinity from the silver grayish comforter that covered its massive length to the metallic grey and green throw pillows propped on the headboard. He’d painted her wooden floor tiles black to match the black wall behind the bed. Admittedly, they weren’t colors Shakira would’ve chosen, but they looked good and were very Nathan.

  Her face creased in puzzlement when she didn’t find him in there. She checked the bathroom but he wasn’t there either. On a hunch, she headed towards the guest room. The door was half open and even from outside, she could see him. He had his back to her, and his head lowered.

  Pushing the door wider, Shakira entered the room, a ready smile on her face as she called out, “Nath…”

  His name died on her lips and her smile dropped when he turned.

  In one hand he held her hand-bag while the other was deep inside.

  “Shakira.” The guilt that flashed in his blue eyes was damning enough.

  “What are you doing?” Shakira’s voice was low but tinged with suspicion.

  “I just wanted to borrow one of your Aspirins,” he excused quickly. Dropping the bag on the bed, he said, “I feel a headache coming on.”

  I will believe him. I will believe him.

  She did not believe him.

  “Oh. Well, they’re right there on the bedside table,” she said flatly. Pointing to the very obvious pack whose label she could read even while standing by the door, she repeated, “Right there.”

  “Didn’t see them.” His face took on a sheepish expression. “Sorry.”

  She merely arched an eyebrow.

  Shakira was not a naturally suspicious person but she’d lived with Eve long enough not to ignore signs that were right in front of her face. Nathan had been snooping in her bag. What for? She didn’t know, and maybe later she’d care, but for now the only emotion she felt was acute disappointment. First he didn’t believe that she hadn’t killed Charlie and now he was spying on her?

  She supposed she should’ve expected the suspicion sooner or later, considering the nature of their meeting, but for some reason she’d felt like they’d gotten over the mistrust. Obviously she was wrong. Then why had he even invited her into his house when he didn’t trust her? Was what she thought of as genuine concern and feeling, merely a mirage shadowing more sinister intentions?

  Nathan took two long strides to reach her. Normally his proximity and his masculine scent would’ve sent her senses a’singing, but right now she was busy studying his face for signs of subterfuge. He’d managed to erase all of them but to Shakira, ‘LIES’ was slapped in bold letters across his forehead. Cupping her face in his palm, he leant forward and pressed a fast peck on her lips before asking, “Were you looking for me?”

  It took her time to answer, but when she did it was with a curt nod. “Yeah, London just told me that you sent the Xin Monsters a VIP invite to your auditions. Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” His mouth widened in a smile as he snaked an arm around her waist and drew her closer to his heat. “You know I’d do anything for you, right?”

  “Right.” She nodded mechanically.

  “Good.”His mouth covered her own, his tongue teasing the seam of her lips. She opened her mouth, her actions more automatic than willing, and allowed him to push in. His kiss was a soft and tender teasing of her lips and by extension of her senses, almost like some sort of apology. While one palm gently cupped her face, the other flirted over her nape, shoulders and spine.

  Though she was upset, Shakira found herself propping her palms on his waist and massaging the firm flesh there in tune to the play of their mouths. Finally he parted their lips, allowing her a deep breath. She raised her gaze to meet his, taking in the deep intensity in their oceanic depths.

  How she wished she could read the emotions there.

  How she wished she could voice her desperate need for him to trust her.

  She couldn’t. Sighing deeply, she untangled herself from his arms. “I have to go check on dinner.”

  “I can’t wait. I love your cooking.”The compliments fell easily from his lips but to her they translated into the empty words of a guilty man.

  “Don’t forget your Aspirins,” she threw over her shoulders as she exited the room, leaving him in there. As far as she was concerned he could search it if he wanted. She had nothing to hide.

  Dinner was uncomfortable to say the least.

  Nathan’s eyes flickered between the seven-instrument orchestra playing on stage and the back entrance of the auditorium. Every push of the double doors caused an anticipatory lurch of his heart, but sent it plunging right back into the deep dark abyss of disappointment when someone other than Shakira walked in.

  Would she come? Would she not?

  Nathan knew that he’d screwed up royally. He hadn’t missed the hurt and disappointment in Shakira’s expression when she’d found him searching her bag. The thought that he’d caused her pain had almost drawn an apology from him – almost. But how was he supposed to apologize without revealing that he was looking for Charlie’s thumb-drive?

  If he’d been thinking clearly, he would’ve waited to conduct his search when she wasn’t in the house. Even so, he’d been too desperate to find the drive, what was on it and put this whole fiasco to b
ed. Hindsight was a bitch. He was afraid that he’d irreparably erased the progress he’d made with Shakira.

  She didn’t trust him!

  The irony in the turn of events didn’t escape him.

  In the last three days, she’d taken to sleeping in the guestroom. Nathan would’ve thought that the lack of sex was what would eat at him. Surprisingly, it was her muted responses to him and the suspicious looks she kept throwing at him when she thought he wasn’t watching. He hated the tension between them. It ate at his conscience and plagued him with doubts about what he was doing.

  A part of him wanted her to confront him so that he could just confess. But another part of him begged him to consider the ramifications of any admissions of guilt. From her reaction, it was apparent, Shakira didn’t take well to mistrust, just as he didn’t take well to subterfuge. If he owned up he had no idea what she’d do – but it sure as hell wouldn’t be to throw him a party.

  Besides that if he came clean about what he’d been doing, he would also be forced to admit that he really didn’t trust her and that he’d been using her for sex. Shakira would probably start packing her bags right then – scratch probably. She’d pack her bags, and that was an outcome he refused to even consider.

  He couldn’t watch her walk away.

  No! He had to lay his own doubts to rest before confessing. Meanwhile, he’d just try to earn his way back into her good graces. The effect of the invite for the Xin Monsters had been lost in the wayside, but he’d scrambled to salvage it by inviting her to watch the auditions, last night.

  I’ve got a lot of work, she’d said.

  Come on, he’d pleaded even though anyone other than Shakira would’ve been jumping out of their skin at the opportunity. Despite costing an arm, a leg and your mama’s arm and leg too, tickets to view the auditions had been sold-out for weeks. With a smile, he’d tried to convince her. Don’t you want to see London perform?

  I’ll think about it.

  A burst of thunderous applause jerked him out of his thoughts as the audience around him clapped and hooted to the beaming kids on stage.