Could she come by for a visit? Alex had been flabbergasted. It wasn’t everyday that a ghost from the past came a-knocking. Even though they’d never met, she still reminded him of an awful time. Then he remembered how friendly and sweet she’d been during his long convalescence – sending long chatty letters full of everyday details that helped take his mind off the pain and his weary spirit.
She’d intrigued him with her straightforward outlook, refusing to wallow in self-pity for her loss. He liked that. She wasn’t a crybaby. For reasons he didn’t want to mull over, he sent her a holiday card every year that she always reciprocated. It was an unusual friendship without detail or substance.
And that was part of the problem. The idea of finally meeting her was rattling his cage. What did you say to someone whose future was destroyed by his decisions and actions?
Kicking his pants off and reefing his t-shirt over his head in one smooth motion, Alex dropped it on the deck and dove smoothly into the deep end of an enormous lap pool. A dozen slow, measured laps later he felt a little better.
Deciding it was no big deal to entertain someone from the past, he tried to calm his nerves by concentrating on what the visit should entail. He’d talk to his housekeeper, Carmen, and tell her to expect company. He wouldn’t have to do much more than that. Carmen would take care of everything – it was what she did best.
Alex relaxed and let the water take him away. They agreed she’d text once in Sedona so he could give her detailed directions to the Villa. There wasn’t anything else to do now except wait for her to contact him. The slow burn of excitement in his groin unsettled Alex more than it should. It was just a visit. This was a courtesy call, nothing more. Why did he feel so anxious?
Meghan was practically jumping out of her skin she was so nervous. It was unlike her. Nothing really rattled her cage. She had her brothers to thank for that. She couldn’t even count the number of times she’d been a victim of one of their pranks until she learned the fine art of sibling retribution. The three of them would think twice nowadays about tangling with her. Paybacks were a bitch and something she was extremely good at. She giggled at the thought.
This nervousness had everything to do with the man she was driving to meet. Major Alex Marquez, age thirty-six, former Special Forces commander who now operated an exclusive security agency based near Sedona. He had been her fiancé’s commanding officer. When David had been killed in a bombing attack on his base in some God-forsaken corner of Afghanistan, she’d received a beautiful letter from the Major.
Now, here it was five years later, an entire lifetime removed from those awful days, and she was on her way to finally meet the man who touched her emotions during a confusing time. She’d Googled him of course, hoping to find a picture but he seemed to be something of a recluse. The only shot she found was one of him in full battle gear on a soldier’s blog. She might not know what he actually looked like but she knew he had been deeply respected by his men.
As she drove along following the detailed directions in her navigation system, a surge of anxiety ripped through her. What the hell was she doing? Was she out of her friggin mind? It suddenly seemed awfully pushy and forward to just announce she was showing up on some strange man’s doorstep.
Okay. So he wasn’t some random stranger but that didn’t mean she knew him well enough to sashay her ass into his home for God only knows what reason. Oh shit, she thought. What if he was married? Had a family? Damn! She hadn’t considered any of that before now. Meghan winced, the soft sound cutting through the silence in the car. Was she about to make a huge fool of herself?
Well, it didn’t matter. This was about her putting the past to rest once and for all. Somehow, meeting Major Marquez and personally thanking him for the thoughtful letters he’d sent had come to symbolize the closure she needed. Losing David had been dreadful. Many people had shared her pain. He was a beautiful human being who shouldn’t have been blown to bits in some Afghani shithole. But there were other things, deeply personal things that she, as his fiancée, needed to get over.
The universe had given her this amazing opportunity to redefine her life and she wasn’t going to squander the gift. But before she could determine a direction, the past had to be dealt with. She didn’t want to drag unnecessary emotional baggage along on her journey.
Being from Boston, something she found thrillingly surreal during her time in the southwest was how one moment she was driving along a highway with other cars and the next she was on a long stretch of flatland with only the occasional vehicle going by. She liked how it felt though, this driving along, the satellite radio thumping out classic rock as she sang, sunroof open, speeding down a deserted highway—gave new meaning to the expression Zen driving.
When she came to where the navigation system said she should turn, Meghan stopped the car and turned the music off. It was absolutely open and desolate and so breathtakingly evocative of the desert southwest that she had to snap a few pictures.
The road she was to take had a wide Spanish style arch and a length of fencing down either side of the turn off. She saw an inconspicuous keypad at the entrance and wondered whether she should announce her arrival until she caught sight of a small red light indicating a sensor of some sort. Maybe a scanner. She was after all heading into a security zone. They would know she was coming long before she got to the end of the drive.
From the turn off it took several minutes to reach the main driveway to the Villa, another long drive that stretched on for minutes. Well, this is interesting, she thought. Talk about being off the beaten path.
When the Villa de Valleja-Marquez came into view she was speechless. The main portion of the house, an enormous Spanish influenced structure, looked like it had weathered a century in the hot Arizona sun. It was every romantic thing you could envision of a sprawling colonial hacienda, from its Moorish arches and distinctive Spanish tiled roof to the vine covered trellises. She gasped in delight, pressing her hand above the swell of her breasts at the charming beauty.
The wide driveway was littered with half a dozen vehicles. Trucks, golf carts, at least one motorbike, a Lamborghini, and a sleek and sexy Mercedes that made Meghan drool a little bit. Pulling into the middle of the jumbled parking, she marked the tree-lined walkway that led to the front of the massive house and pulled herself together. This was it. Once she crossed Major Marquez off her list, it would be smooth sailing from here on out.
Alex heard the door chime as he made his way from the deep recesses of the main house into the open living area, having perfectly gaged the length of time it would take her to drive up to the house once the gate surveillance announced an approaching vehicle.
He thought of an old childhood poem from Alice in Wonderland. 'The time has come,' the Walrus said, 'To talk of many things,” and smirked. He was thinking what he really needed was an attitude adjustment as he swung the massive wood door open to greet his visitor.
Attitude adjustment delivered with a vengeance he thought seconds later when his gaze encountered the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on standing at his doorstep. Meghan O’Brien was nothing short of breathtaking. Tall and curvy with long auburn curls and a sweet as sin mouth, she had the body of a 1950’s Hollywood goddess with bountiful breasts, a tiny waist, and provocative hips. There wasn’t anything about that first impression which didn’t melt Alex’s brain into his socks or get his manhood sitting up and taking notice.
“Major?” the red haired beauty asked. She had the same half-assed look of shock on her face that matched his. Apparently he wasn’t what she was expecting either. Sporting a beard in progress and a riot of messy, disheveled hair Alex belatedly realized he probably looked like a bear just waking from his winter nap. So much for first impressions.
Quickly recovering his manners he offered her a warm smile, grabbing hold of the hand she offered to pull her into the cool interior of the house.
“Miss O’Brien, welcome to my home.”
Alex was insta
ntly captivated. She had beautifully arched eyebrows and sexy, cat-like green eyes above a pert nose with a mouth that made him stop and look twice. Her full bottom lip curved in a sexy pout with a well-defined cupid’s bow on top. He had to stop from reaching out to touch her face to see if the pale skin felt as soft and luscious as it looked. He couldn’t believe he was reacting like a hormonal teenage boy meeting a beautiful girl for the first time but he couldn’t help it. She was that drop dead fucking gorgeous.
“Please call me Alex,” he murmured at the same moment her delightful sexy scent reached his nose. Inhaling sharply, he pictured open spaces with the fresh scent of vanilla and blackberry in the air. He was sure her skin would taste sweet, maybe even melt a little bit under his tongue.
Wait a minute, his mind barked. What the fuck are you doing? The woman is here on a social call not a date. Grow up and mind your manners son, he could hear his father tell him with that sardonic inflection that made every comment an inside joke between the two of them. Don’t get caught drooling over a woman, he told him once. Gives her the upper hand.
She smiled at him as he drew her into the large entryway with her cheeks flushing a gorgeous pink. When her face lit up she looked like an angel.
“Alex.” She said his name with a soft purr. His dick instantly got hard. “No formalities! Please call me Meghan.”
He was still holding her hand and since she wasn’t making any effort to disengage, he hung on; covering their joined fingers with his other hand. The odd gesture was bold and intimate.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you at last, Meghan.” She grinned when he said her name.
“Welcome to the Villa,” he graciously declared. “It’s been in my family since the eighteen hundreds, and I don’t mind telling you that keeping a historic building up to date with modern features is a never ending challenge.”
Laughing, she shook her head in understanding. “Oh, believe me, I know what that’s like. My folks live in a turn of the century building, and my dad is forever grumbling about every little thing.”
She looked around and gasped when the full impact of the great entryway to the mansion house opened to her view. Plaster columns supported the huge open space with a second floor balcony running the entire length of the house. An exquisite wrought iron railing framed the wide steps leading to the upper floors. A double row of windows on the front wall suggested a second story but on the inside the entire entryway was open to the height of the second floor ceiling. Moorish arches anchored either end of the magnificent entryway; it was a breathtaking space. Alex was unapologetically proud of the beautiful house. Seeing it through Meghan’s excited eyes was exhilarating.
“This house is so…” She was at a loss for words.
He shrugged like it was no big deal. “Hey, it’s home, y’know?”
She laughed and gave him an unexpected elbow to the ribs. “Don’t be so humble, Major. Your home could easily be the feature spread in House Beautiful magazine.” She eyed him humorlessly. “And I suspect you know that.”
Alex couldn’t help the delighted laugh he barked. Yeah, he knew the Villa was impressive. But it was kind of cool to hear someone else say so. What was also way cool was how readily his emotions responded to his unusual houseguest.
She caught sight of the vintage baby grand tucked in an alcove under the staircase and quickly hurried over to it. Touching the wood she asked, “Do you play?”
Another shrug. “Sometimes.” He ran his hand along the curved edge of the mahogany piece that had been in his family for a hundred years and told her, “Mostly it’s for show.” Something about how her eyes shone and the way she caressed the instrument made him pause. “What about you? Do you play the piano?”
Her green eyes twinkled with merriment when she answered. “Yep! Miss Dalton’s Piano School for Young Ladies. Took lessons until I was in high school.”
She had one of those happy smiles that could light up a room. Alex was suddenly very, very glad Meghan O’Brien had come to visit.
As she turned slowly taking in every angle of the grand Spanish villa, he checked her out as well. Alex’s primitive side tightened as he appreciated her striking figure. Wearing a short wrap dress with a fluttery hem, the simple style accentuated her tiny waist and curvy hips. When she swung away and he saw her backside for the first time, the generous bounty of her ass caught him off guard. Choking back a groan, Alex didn’t know whether to curse or thank whatever power in the universe put such a tempting sight within arm’s reach.
He loved bare skin, especially legs, and she didn’t disappoint. Hers were long and well toned. He glimpsed painted toes on feet slid into a pair of kitten heel sandals. Judging by the way she moved and held herself, he suspected Pilates. Or maybe dance. A riot of rich auburn curls rolled across her shoulders standing in stark contrast to her pale complexion.
Far and away though it was her breasts that melted his brain. Men lost their shit over boobs like the ones he was leering at. Each sexy globe was a hearty handful plus some. He didn’t doubt they were real. There was something natural and enticing about the way they swayed and shifted with her movements. In her pretty dress, the bouncing tits, tiny waist, and seductive hips were an invitation to a good case of thundering lust.
“Alex,” she murmured, cutting through his intense perusal earning her his attention. The green in her eyes was disarming up close. He smiled. “Would you mind if I took some pictures while I’m here? It’s sort of a hobby,” she told him. “Your home is just so beautiful. I’d like to remember the moment.”
He was bemused by the request but nodded graciously in permission. “Let’s head onto the patio.” Stepping into her personal space, Alex gently guided her by the elbow toward the back of the house. Being so close, he smelled the vanilla and blackberry again and remembered thinking that she’d taste sweet. The fingers of the hand against her elbow drifted up her arm teasing the soft skin he found. It was just a quick touch but enough to fire up his libido in a very big way.
“Holy crap!” he heard her gasp as their route took them through the enormous custom kitchen. “How many people do you feed with a kitchen this big?” she laughed. Her fingers drifted across the beautiful granite countertops the same way they had touched the piano. She was a sensualist. The realization sent shockwaves racing along his spine.
Tearing his eyes from her face, Alex looked around as if seeing the space for the first time. “It is kind of over the top, huh?” He smirked and shook his head. “Know that saying, Go Big or Go Home? Well, my designer came from that school of thought. There’s a separate cookhouse and dining room for the compound. This bad boy,” he gestured with his chin, “is a rich man’s indulgence. Besides, I believe the kitchen is the heart of the home. It’s where families gather. I wanted something that made a statement.”
Meghan snorted out a hearty laugh. “Well, statement received. Loud and clear!”
Stepping with her through a tiled archway onto an outdoor patio, his guest gasped again and came to a halt. Next to his tech cave and pool, this was Alex’s favorite spot. The interior patio had a massive stone fireplace along one wall while the rest of the space was dotted with windows into the various rooms of the Villa. Comfortable seating areas with large padded loungers were clustered here and there under an enormous pergola. In the middle hung a sweeping fan that kept the air moving on the hot summer day. Everything about the outdoor room screamed of his ancestral roots. It was Spanish influenced grace and comfort at its best.
He felt a surge of satisfaction that she was visibly moved by his home. Large earthenware pots and stoneware bowls planted with an abundance of greenery and colorful blooms gave the space a special vibe. Dark terracotta curved Spanish tiles on the roof mirrored those on single story sections of the hacienda while the ground was covered with beautiful stone slabs. Olive trees flanked the ornate, carved fireplace surround while all around the space were lanterns of every size and shape holding massive candles.
“This is unbe
lievably beautiful, Alex,” she told him as a dreamy look softened her expression. “I love the Southwest.” Walking ahead of him she took a few steps then turned back, genuine delight shining from her green eyes. “It’s so different from Boston. Worlds apart.”
She was still beaming into his face when Alex detected a sound coming from inside the house. “I think my housekeeper is about to make an appearance,” he told her with a wry grin. Shooing Meghan along under the pergola cover to shade her from the mid-day sun, he got her seated comfortably at an enormous wood table a second before the woman who ran his home came onto the patio.
“Hola, Meeester Alex,” the older woman trilled in accented English as she approached them holding a tray laden with glasses and a pitcher of something icy cold.
Plopping it onto the big table the woman fixed him with a smug grin as she eyed up his guest. At that second Alex realized his visit with a woman, a fucking beautiful woman, would be the talk of the compound in supersonic time.
“Thanks,” he muttered feeling quickly out-of-sorts. He didn’t relish having his personal life discussed. Drae and Cam would be in his face within a nanosecond if they discovered just who his visitor actually was. He was sure learning he was entertaining the fiancée of a dead soldier they all had known would open the floodgates.
Unfailingly polite when he needed to be, Alex knew his mother would be proud at how fast he recovered his manners.
“Meghan O’Brien, this is my housekeeper, Carmen.”
Meghan smiled and put out her hand in greeting.
“Carmen, this is the guest I told you about, Miss O’Brien.” Carmen took Meghan’s hand and greeted her effusively.
“Welcome, welcome Meeez O’Brien! I hope you like lemonade from scratch,” she told his guest as she went to pour them a glass. “There is mint from our garden as well, if you’d like to add some to your glass.”
Redeeming Justice Page 2