by Deborah Camp
“Yes?”
She hesitated. Usually he answered by saying her name in that low, purring way he had that made her blood thicken. “Are you busy?”
“Yes.”
So clipped! So impersonal! “I wanted to tell you to be careful out there and to wish you a safe and successful trip.”
“Oh.” A few seconds ticked by. “Let me get back to you. Okay?”
“Okay.” She stared at the phone that had gone dead. She checked her e-mail and then looked through her stored numbers until she found the one she wanted. She dialed it.
“Mr. Wolfe’s office. This is Darla. How may I help you?”
“Hi, Darla. It’s Trudy.”
“I know. I saw your name come up, but I still have to answer the phone professionally.”
Trudy smiled. “Right. Is Levi there?”
“No. He’s out.”
“He said you would e-mail his schedule to me.”
“Yes. I’ll do that right now.”
Something nagged at her. Something she tried to quell, but couldn’t. “If he’s not there, where is he?”
Darla hesitated. “I’m not sure. He has a board meeting. Nothing on his schedule before that. Sissy Franklin stopped by about an hour ago and he left with her.”
She stopped breathing for a few seconds and realized she was gripping the phone with such ferocity that it was a wonder it didn’t disintegrate in her hand. “Oh. Okay. Thanks.” She ended the call and tucked her phone into the back pocket of her jeans.
Pacing in front of the windows, her mind whirred with one bad thought after another. It didn’t have to mean anything. Didn’t mean he was with Sissy. If he was with her, it didn’t mean that he was with her. One fight with her didn’t mean he’d hightail it to Sissy. He was probably talking business, maybe setting up a time to be on her show again. Just because Sissy had been his “go to” girl before didn’t mean he was going at it with her again . . . right now.
But if he was with Sissy, why didn’t he talk to her on the phone? All he’d have to do was say, “Thanks and I’ll check in again with you before I board the plane,” or something like that. He didn’t have to sound so abrupt . . . so “Get lost, I’m busy now, bitch.”
Was he telling Sissy about his fight with her? Getting a sympathetic ear from her? She balled her hands into fists and clenched her jaw so tightly she was afraid she’d break some teeth.
Stop this, she told herself, planting her feet and gathering in a great, calming breath. She would not become one of those pathetic, jealous, crazy women like on the TV reality shows. They always made her stomach turn and filled her with embarrassment for her own gender. To allow a man to turn you into a hair-pulling, epitaph-spewing hellcat was something she vowed would never happen to her.
Whirling from the windows, she stomped through the dining room and down the stairs to the study. She sat at the desk and opened the laptop to check her e-mail. Opening the one from Darla, she ran her gaze over the neatly typed schedule.
Arriving in L.A. at 7:20 p.m., checking in at the Bel Air.
Friday – Lexi’s show taping at 9 a.m. Lunch with Lexi. Private plane at 3:55 to Seattle. Checking in at Four Seasons. Welcome wine and cheese party at 7:30 p.m.
Saturday – Book signing 10 a.m., panels at 1:30 p.m.,4:30 p.m., and Keynote Address at 8 p.m.
Sunday – Breakfast with Cedric and Quintara. Book signing at 11 a.m. ETA in Atlanta, 4:35 p.m.
“Quintara!” She stared at the computer screen for another moment before speed-dialing Quintara.
“Hello, Trudy dear.”
“You’re going to be in Seattle this weekend with Levi?”
“I’m already there. I’m disappointed that you’re not coming to the conference. Paranormal and Things That Go Bump in the Night is the name of it. I understand you wouldn’t want to be on any of the panels, but I thought you’d like to watch Levi do his thing. You’ve never seen him in action before an audience. He’s magnificent! Of course, that’s why he’s the headliner. I have no doubt that most of the audience will be made up of adoring women.”
She curbed her tongue, letting Quintara babble on until she came to a stop. “We agreed that it would be better if I stayed here. It would be a logistic nightmare having both of us being tailed by security guards.”
“Oh, yes. I forgot about that.”
Silence crackled as neither woman spoke. Trudy didn’t know what to say or if she wanted to say anything. She didn’t even know why she’d called Quintara. What had been the point?
“Use this time away from him to clear your head, dear,” Quintara said, breaking through the uncomfortable silence and obviously sensing Trudy’s muddled feelings. “Whatever answers you’re seeking will come and you’ll find your balance again.”
She already felt steadier. “Quintara, I love you.”
Quintara’s throaty chuckle drifted to her. “Of course you do!”
Trudy smiled. “Who’s Cedric?”
“Cedric? You must mean Cedric Chesterfield, the medium. He’s going to be here with us. You know, he’s the one who gave Levi the scholarship to attend Findlay College.”
No, she didn’t know that, but she said nothing.
“I understand you’re going to stay there for Thanksgiving.”
“Yes. I didn’t want Levi to be alone.”
“Room service has arrived, dear! I must be off. I’ll think of you and press your suit with Levi over the weekend. ‘Bye now!”
Trudy released a startled laugh at the “press your suit” comment, but Quintara ended the call before she could say anything else to her. She’d meant to ask her to join them for Thanksgiving. She decided to check with Levi before extending the invitation. Sam Smith crooned “Latching onto you” on her cellphone and she snatched it up. Levi. “Hello?”
“Trudy.”
She closed her eyes, thinking she’d always have a reaction when he said her name like that. Like it rolled off his tongue, honeyed and hot.
“I’m catching an afternoon flight and—.”
“I saw your schedule,” she interrupted him. “Why didn’t you tell me you were meeting with Quintara?”
“I didn’t know Quintara was going to be there until this morning. Would you have wanted to come with me if you’d known?”
She sighed. “No. It’s not my thing.”
“Right. That’s what I thought.”
Her chest felt as tight as a drum and she had to get relief from the pent up feelings inside it. “You were with Sissy when I called?”
The silence was deafening.
“Levi?”
“I was.”
Trudy’s heart took a nosedive and she shut her eyes.
“Sissy and ten other people.”
Her heart climbed into her throat and her eyes popped open. “Wh-what were you doing?”
“Having a board meeting.”
“For what?”
“Re-home. Sissy’s one of the board members. It was our regularly scheduled meeting. Who told you I was with Sissy?”
She pressed her lips together, not wanting to involve Darla in their drama. “So, Sissy will be here Tuesday night?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll finally get to meet her.”
“No one has kept you from meeting her.”
That gave her pause. Damn it, he was right. She’d wanted to maintain a distance from the woman. But now . . . now she looked forward to the confrontation.
His sigh wafted to her. “Anyway, I have to go. You have my schedule and where I’m staying.”
“Yes.” She swallowed her pounding heart. “Be safe, Levi.” She started to say that she’d miss him, but bit it back. “Give Quintara a hug for me. Why don’t you ask her to join us for Thanksgiving?”
“Will do.” He was quiet for a few moments. When he spoke again, she could hear the sizzle of irritation in every word. “I know why you asked if I was with Sissy. Just because we’ve had a . . . whatever is going on between us.” He cursed und
er his breath, but she couldn’t make out the exact words. “That doesn’t mean I’m going to fuck some other woman. I’m not that shallow or that unfeeling where you’re concerned.”
She bit down on her lower lip, justly chastised. “I know you’re not shallow. I’m just – feeling vulnerable, I guess.”
“Yeah, well.” He drew in a sharp breath. “Same here. I’ll see you Sunday.”
Chapter 11
By Sunday afternoon Trudy felt as if she’d been flung back in time to right before she’d met Quintara – the lowest, most depressing time of her life. Every direction she turned had seemed to be dark, directionless, and pointless. She’d felt alone, misunderstood, and desperate to find a bar of sunshine, a ray of hope.
Yes, she’d worked herself into quite a stir.
Friday night she hadn’t fallen fall asleep until after three in the morning. She’d received one text message from Levi.
Arrived in LA. Checked into the hotel. All is well.
That had been it. She’d texted back.
Thanks for the update. See you soon.
No response to that. Bastard.
Saturday she’d called her mother, ended up crying when she’d told her she wouldn’t be home for Thanksgiving, and had stayed in bed with a headache most of the afternoon and evening. She’d received another text from Levi.
In Seattle. Quintara says hi.
Hi back to her. Everything okay there? Security on your tail?
Yes. Of course. Same there, I hope.
Oh sure. Melvin or someone like him is sitting outside in the foyer right this minute.
Good.
No signoff. He still had his “mad” on. Well, she was over it! Why couldn’t he just let it go?
Later that night she had awakened screaming. She’d only been able to recall pieces of the visions that had terrified her to wakefulness. She could recall a woman handcuffed to a bed. Naked. A blond woman with a slim body. Being whipped with a cane. Trudy could still feel the impression of the instrument in the palm of her hand – or in the hand of the man who had managed to invade her head. She hadn’t been able to tell if the woman had liked being whipped or not. She’d moaned – but had they been moans of pleasure, pain, or both?
The man wielding the cane had taken great pleasure from it. He’d derived intense satisfaction from inflicting pain. With one hand, he’d struck with the cane again, striping the woman’s buttocks, and with his other he’d massaged his thick, hard cock.
Oh, yes, yes, yes! Scream, bitch, scream! Louder. Harder. Scream!
That had been all she could remember. She wasn’t sure if it had been something she’d dreamed or if her mind had been taken over by someone else’s thoughts. All she’d known for certain was that she’d wanted Levi’s arms around her.
Although it was irrational and a nasty voice in her head had told her she was being a baby, a needy, bawling baby, she had snatched up her cellphone and had called Levi. It had been 3:45 a.m. in Atlanta and 12:45 a.m. in Seattle. The phone had rung eight times before she’d heard a scuffling, a muffled curse, and then his voice – his raspy, sleepy voice.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m here. What’s going on?”
“Levi.” She’d just wanted to say his name. For that moment, it had been enough.
“At your service. You okay, Tru?”
“I had a bad dream. It’s so stupid to call and wake you up. You’re rolling your eyes, aren’t you, and thinking that I’ve lost my marbles.”
“Lost your marbles?’ He’d sighed, then chuckled. “Haven’t heard that in a while. What was the dream about?”
“A man beating a woman. I woke up afraid, but I don’t remember much about it.”
“Relax. Take some deep breaths. Drink some water or milk. The details might come back to you. Are you sure it was a dream and not one of your visions?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” She’d released a huff of breath. “The thing is . . . I miss you, you know? You’re there and busy and around people. Quintara’s with you. I’m here in this bed that smells like you. I feel stuck. Stuck thinking about you and what an impatient smart ass I can be and how I should thank my lucky stars every freakin’ day that you want to be with me when you could be giving your sexy, drop-dead gorgeousness to some pretty, blond, busty thing who can suck the enamel off your teeth and I can’t even—.”
“Stop, stop, stop!”
She’d drawn in a breath and realized that he was laughing. “What’s funny?”
“You! Ahhh.”
She could hear the rasp of his hand as he’d rubbed his whiskered jaw and cheeks and the rustle of sheets. In the ensuing silence, she’d realized that she’d been talking so fast he probably didn’t understand anything she’d said.
“I’ll be back tomorrow. We’ll talk about all of this then. Take a couple of aspirin and go back to sleep. Okay?”
“Okay.” She’d winced at the smallness of her voice. She’d tried again. “Okay.” Better.
“And by the way, I miss you, too.” He’d chuckled again. “Jesus, Tru. Suck the enamel off my teeth? Tell you what, I’ll work on my many issues and you work on your self-esteem problem. Is that a deal?”
“Deal.” She’d nodded and wished she could touch him.
“Shake on it.”
She’d smiled. “Shake.”
“Okay. See you soon.”
“But not soon enough.” Her voice had broken on the last word and she’d ended the call, then rolled onto her side and let the hot tears run down her cheeks. It was stupid to be crying, stupid to be so upset over . . . over nothing really. Except that she had the boyfriend blues. Her phone had binged and she’d pressed the button to read the text.
Are you crying? You better not be crying.
Sniffing and wiping away tears, she’d texted back. I’m okay.
I know you are. Crying, that is. Think of good things. Relax. Sleep tight, baby.
She’d smiled. I’ll think of you. Good night, my pretty.
Dragging her thoughts away from last night and back to the present, Trudy paced as excitement built within her. She fluffed pillows, checked her image in the mirror, looked at her watch, and wondered if he might be running late. How late? Was he still in Seattle?
She went to the windows and looked down at the front of the building just in time to see a town car pull away. Levi!
Catching herself before she actually skipped to the front door, she forced herself to walk normally across the living room, disarm the alarm system, and throw open the front doors. She glanced at the security guard sitting beside the door and smiled.
“Hi, Melvin. Levi’s home.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The elevator doors opened, but the first face she saw wasn’t Levi’s.
“Quintara!” Trudy rushed forward and flung her arms around the plump woman. “I’m so glad to see you! How long are you staying? Please say you’re going to be here for at least a week!”
Quintara’s laugh was lusty and loud. “I’m leaving the day after Thanksgiving. You know what they say about guests and fish. I’ll begin to stink by then.”
“No way!’ Trudy kissed her rouged cheek, then her gaze moved to Levi and her breath caught in her throat. He was dressed in black jeans, a tight, black t-shirt and a black leather jacket. She sensed a measure of wariness and hesitation in him, directed at her, and it pricked her heart. “She’s always welcome here, right?”
He nodded. “Right.” Looking toward the security guard, he jerked his thumb at the elevator. “Help Jeremy with our luggage, will you, Mel?”
“Sure thing,” the silver-haired guard said.
“Come inside, Quintara,” Trudy said, laughing at the woman’s desirous and speculative gaze directed at Mel. She motioned for Quintara to enter ahead of her. Before she followed, she turned to Levi, flattened one hand against the front of his shirt, and rose on tiptoes to kiss his mouth. “Welcome home,” she whispered against his lips. His arm circled her waist and he brought her up agains
t his body. Good lord, he felt like sex itself, she thought. Lean, strong, smelling like wind, sun, leather, and a back note of citrus. She looked up into dark blue eyes that held more questions than answers.
“You’re okay?” he asked, quietly, close to her ear. “We’re okay?”
“Yes, of course.”
His hand moved up her spine, the heat of his touch branding her. “I’m having trouble reading your moods lately.”
She grinned. “Says the master of moods.” She kissed him again and was glad when he smiled against her lips. Grabbing his hand, she pulled him with her into the penthouse. “Have you two eaten dinner?”
“Not yet,” Quintara said, spinning around from her study of the big photograph of the wolf. Her long caftan swirled around her legs. “I love this picture. Where was it taken, Levi?”
“Alaska, I think. Wes gave it to me. He found it in an art gallery in SoHo.”
“Is Wes about?” Quintara asked, her voice lifting with sudden interest.
“No. I sent him home a little early,” Trudy said, laughing lightly at Quintara’s crestfallen expression. “But he’s left us plenty to eat. Spaghetti and meatballs, chicken salad, pork roast and roasted vegetables. What’s your pleasure?”
“Chicken salad sandwich for me,” Levi said.
“Oh?” Quintara frowned. “I thought that pork roast sounded lovely.”
“No problem,” Trudy said, already making her way to the kitchen. “I can accommodate both of you.”
“The luggage is here,” Levi said, motioning for Mel to come in. “Put the bright yellow pieces in the guest room and the other in my ro – er, I mean, the master suite.” He glanced at Trudy, lifting a brow and one corner of his mouth at his correction.
“How was the seminar?” Trudy asked.
“Delightful,” Quintara said, linking her arm with Trudy’s and moving to the dining room and up the steps into the kitchen. “Levi was a smash hit, as usual.” She glanced at Levi, who was standing in the dining room, glancing through his mail that Wes had stacked neatly on the table for him. “He was the headliner and his sessions were standing-room-only The promoter told me that interest in the seminar was sluggish until they confirmed that Levi would be a speaker and then they were bombarded with registrations! They actually had to turn people away!”