“There,” he said pleasantly. “Don’t you feel better?”
“I—can’t—believe—you—did—that!”
“Follow the rules next time.”
Thandie scowled at him. “You...you...”
“Keep your legs open please. I want to smell you.”
Scowling, Thandie pressed her thighs firmly together.
Elliot chuckled. “You’re cute when you’re upset with me. But try to curb your anger for a spell. We’re here.”
Thandie looked up and, for the first time, noticed the traffic. A line of chauffeured cars was pressing into one lane. Less than half a mile ahead, crowds of screaming fans could be heard. Forgetting to be upset with Elliot, Thandie asked, “We’re going to a movie premiere?”
“I believe it’s more of a private screening.”
“What’s the movie?”
Elliot looked thoughtful, and then flipped open the console and pulled out a glossy folder. Inside were two tickets for Dread Commission: Ghost File starring Paris St. John. Thandie gaped at the tickets. Dread was a highly anticipated movie for the summer and Paris St. John was Hollywood’s golden child. Access to Dread tickets would be hard to come by.
“These were a gift?” she mused aloud.
He gave a lift of his shoulders. “I receive a lot of invites to attend events in the city. I typically don’t go.”
“Why are you going tonight?”
A sexy smile slid across his lips. “And miss an opportunity to see you in that dress?” He tsked. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”
Thandie smiled and turned to look out the window to hide her blush. She was both pleased by his answer and uncertain. Was this a date? Or was this business? She was still unclear.
Fifteen minute later, they were checking in with the name board. Ten minutes after that, Elliot had rolled to a stop in front of the theater. Red carpet covered the sidewalk, photographers readied their cameras and eager fans craned their necks. Thandie sucked in a breath as Elliot got out to open her door. A gust of warm air brushed over her skin as the passenger door opened. Elliot smiled down at her, looking every bit a movie star himself. He held out his hand to her. “Shall we?”
* * *
Attending a movie with Elliot was amazing. As soon as they’d stepped onto the red carpet, they were barraged by camera flashes. Thandie had been to movie showings in the past, however she’d always been on the outskirts of the fanfare, never the center of attention. Elliot took everything in stride. He held her close as they posed for pictures, guided her through the crush and applied the slightest pressure to her hip every so often. Multiple times, local journalists stopped to ask him for an interview. He declined them all with a suave sophistication that was enviable.
Thandie was not a fan of action movies but, as it turned out, Dread Commission: Ghost File was a decent film. She doubted it would win any awards but it had been entertaining. The star, Paris St. John, was present and he was a contributing factor to the many distractions that accompanied movie premieres. A tanned blond with an easy smile, Paris caused many female attendees to make the hard decision between staring at him or the movie screen. As far as Thandie could tell, Paris, the man, was winning the competition with his on-screen persona. Those who weren’t gaping at Paris were busy staring at his lovely companion and co-star, Natalia di Rossi. The two had recently scandalized the media with an off-screen romance and hurried marriage announcement. Thandie could tell by the whispers in the room, the gossip was still fresh on everybody’s mind.
When the movie was finally over, Elliot guided her toward a less traveled exit, avoiding the fans, photographers, publicists and party promoters. With a majority of the attendees mingling in the lobby, Elliot was able to have the valet retrieve his car in record time. As soon as he was behind the wheel, Elliot accelerated away from the theater.
“Do you always drive so fast?” Thandie asked.
Instead of answering the question, Elliot asked a question of his own. “Are you hungry?”
Actually, she was famished, but she said, “I could nibble.”
He acknowledged her words with a nod of his head. “I asked Lucinda to put something in the oven for us. Can you wait until we get home?”
Thandie nodded and turned to look out the window. The brightly lit streets of Miami passed her in flashes of color and muffled sounds. The city was so different from New York. The comparison made her a little homesick. She missed her home, her closet, her wide collection of expensive shoes, her bed, but mostly her mother. However, Miami had its perks. The weather was one. The laid-back energy, the vibrant night life.
Elliot.
“You have a sex room,” she said. The comment had come out of nowhere. She’d meant to ease into this topic, but it seemed to pop out.
If Elliot was surprised by her comment, he did not show it. He gave a slow nod of his head, before saying, “I do.”
A heavy silence fell between them. Clearly, Elliot felt no need to elaborate. He was not going to make this subject easy for her. So, she soldiered on.
“Have you...did you plan on...” She was suddenly unsure how to broach the question.
“Yes?” A small smile tugged at his lips. “Cat got your tongue?”
She looked away, trying to collect her thoughts.
Elliot rolled to a stop at a red light. Turning to her, he gently took hold of her chin, forcing her to look up at him. “If the question is do I plan to take you to my little room, the answer is no. I enjoy having you in my bed.”
“And your office,” she reminded him.
He chuckled. “Yes, I rather enjoy sex in my office.”
The light turned green and Elliot returned his attention to treating every straightway like a racetrack. When they arrive at Star Island, he waved past the security guard and zoomed into his neighborhood. Aside from the purr of the Aston Martin, the air was quiet. The night was young and many residents seemed to have just left their homes for dinner on South Beach. Pulling up to the house, Thandie noticed the black Expedition was gone. A clear indicator Len and Raja were out. But in the spot where their car was normally positioned, a car Thandie did not recognize was parked there. Lucinda’s car was positioned next to it.
“We have a crowd,” Elliot said with a bemused smile.
Taking Thandie’s hand, he led her inside the house. She followed him through the foyer and into the kitchen. Lucinda was there, humming softly to herself as she put a pot away. Her face split into a beautiful grin when she saw Elliot. She smiled warmly at Thandie, and gave an approving nod to her dress.
Elliot came to her side, kissed her lightly on the cheek in greeting. Lucinda’s rich brown eyes danced with delight over his show of affection. The two conversed in Spanish. It occurred to Thandie she’d rarely seen them in the same room together. Elliot kept such odd work hours, and Thandie was usually asleep or working on her own projects to interact much with Lucinda herself. Now, watching them talk, their dark heads bowed toward each other, Thandie could see they got along rather well. She couldn’t catch any of the words, but she could tell there was a mutual fondness between them.
As Lucinda pointed out what she’d prepared, Thandie noticed a large basket placed neatly on the kitchen bar. She looked toward the stove, where a tightly wrapped casserole dish was cooling. She watched as Elliot carefully placed it into the basket, and nodded his head occasionally as Lucinda ticked off instructions. Finally, he scooped up the wicker container and patted her on the bottom.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Where are we going?”
Without answering, he took Thandie’s hand, pulling her toward the back of the house. They were just crossing the living area when out of nowhere, Warren’s silver head popped around the corner. “Hey, you two,” he said with a broad grin. “What are you kids up to?”
Not bothering to look at Warren, Elliot walked right past him as he mumbled, “I’m taking Thandie out on the boat.”
“Excellent idea.”
Warren clapped his hands together. “Mind if I come along?”
“Yes,” Elliot said sternly. “I do mind.”
Warren looked at him curiously, his smile faltering just a little, but he quickly recovered. “Just as well. Can we talk later, Elliot? I have a few things I’d like to go over with you.”
Elliot shrugged. “Fine.”
Warren looked between them, and took a cautious step back. “Are you sure I can’t tag along?”
“Goodbye, Warren.”
Warren gave a momentary pause. Awkwardly, he forced a smile on his face. “In that case, I’ll give you two kids some privacy.”
Elliot stopped abruptly. “Where are you going?” he snapped.
Warren shrugged. “I’ll go give Lucinda a hand in the kitchen.”
“I’m sure she can handle it on her own.” His voice was cold, but Warren either didn’t notice or didn’t care.
“Well, it can’t hurt to ask.” And with that said, Warren left the room.
Elliot watched until the older man disappeared down the hall. He cursed under his breath before turning to look at Thandie and urging her out the patio doors. They walked toward the boat dock in silence. Thandie could tell Warren had put Elliot in a bad mood, but she could not understand why. Warren had been harmless enough.
With Elliot’s help, Thandie stepped gingerly onto the boat deck. She looked around her. “Shouldn’t we change into more casual clothes?” she asked.
“There are spare clothes downstairs,” he said through gritted teeth.
One glance at his stern expression and Thandie could tell he needed a little time to get over whatever was bothering him. She was happy to give him his solitude. Slipping off her heels, Thandie seated herself on a lounge, and pulled her feet beneath her. From there, she watched Elliot skillfully loosen the ropes binding the boat to the dock.
In a few minutes, they were drifting ever so slightly away from the boat dock. Elliot stood behind the controls, turned on the motor and eased out to open water. Unlike his high-speed driving on the city streets, Elliot was a much calmer navigator behind the wheel of a boat. The farther they got away from land, the more his tension seemed to melt away. By the time they were a quarter of a mile out, Elliot looked remarkably more relaxed.
He took off his suit jacket and offered it to Thandie. She placed it over her shoulders, slipping her arms into the sleeves. She could smell his aftershave. It was rich, masculine and heady. She liked it very much.
Elliot kept guiding the boat so that they were parallel to the coast, only a mile or so out. The city lights danced in a darkening sky. The sun had already set, and the sky was now fading from hues of pinkish gold to deep violet purple. When they’d reached the location he desired, Elliot dropped the anchor. He laid out cushions and a blanket on the wide deck floor, creating a comfy makeshift bed. Loosening his tie, he curled his finger in her direction. She rose from the lounge and joined him.
For a while they sat there, staring out over the water and enjoying the gentle breeze. The wind ruffled his hair, softening the chiseled angles of his handsome face. Thandie knew now why he enjoyed being out here. It was so peaceful.
Glancing at him, she decided to voice a question that had been nagging her for some time. “The night after we came back from Zuma. The night I had...my episode....” Her voice trailed off.
Elliot turned to look at her, his silver gaze imploring her. “Yes?”
“How did you recognize—” She stopped, and tried to think of a different tactic. “How did you know? You said you had plenty of practice.”
Elliot shrugged. “I did say that, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did,” she urged. “What did you mean by that?”
He was quiet for a long while, before saying. “My mother suffers from panic attacks.”
Thandie jerked away from him, as if suddenly seeing him for the first time. She searched his face, wondering if this might all be some bad joke at her expense. She did not see any hint of deception in his cool pale eyes. Licking her bottom lip, she asked, “Is that how you knew what to do? That thing you did with your hands?”
He nodded.
“You did it for your mother?”
“Often. It was the only thing that calmed her down. It made her feel safe.”
“Oh,” was all she could say.
“Her attacks came and went in waves. She’d do fine for weeks, months even, and then—” he snapped his fingers “—she’d have one out of the blue.” He turned to study her face. “How did you keep your condition a secret from Len and Raja?”
Thandie shrugged. “It doesn’t happen often. Only when I’m extremely...taxed.”
“How long?” he asked.
“What?”
“You told me before you’ve had the attacks since you were a child. How long ago was that?”
She shrugged uncomfortably.
“How long?” he asked again.
“Since I was eight or nine years old,” she confessed.
“What happened to start the attacks?”
“Elliot....”
“Tell me.”
Thandie looked away, debating whether she should say anything at all. Finally, she gave a heavy sigh. “My mother’s medical issues were taking a toll on my family.”
“Her dementia,” he recalled.
Thandie could not keep the look of surprise from her face.
“I remember everything,” he said in answer. “Go on.”
“My father couldn’t handle it. He walked out on us.” She paused to pinch the bridge of her nose. “My mother was devastated. Her illness took a drastic turn for the worse.” She splayed her hands out. “My panic attacks started shortly after.” Keeping her eyes downcast, she focused on her hands. Thandie had never spoken of her condition to anyone. She felt strangely liberated and yet vulnerable at the same time.
Elliot tucked his finger under her chin, lifting it until she met his eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with that,” he said. “We all deal with our issues in our own way.”
“And your mother?” she asked. “When did her attacks start?”
Elliot let his hands fall away from her, as he considered the question. “I’m not exactly sure,” he said thoughtfully. “She’s had them as long as I can remember.”
Thandie envisioned Elliot as a small child. Olive-skinned, dark-haired and skinny. She imagined what it must have been like for a young kid to watch a parent suffer from a panic attack. She saw her own image; doubled over, shivering and straining to control herself. It was scary to endure. She imagined it was even scarier to watch.
Somehow, pressing into this area of her life felt too raw. Suddenly desperate to change the subject, she asked the first thing that popped into her head.
“How did you learn to speak Spanish?”
Elliot actually laughed. “I grew up with it. Learned it while I was learning English.” Seeing the confusion on her face, his grin widened. “My mother is Cuban, Thandie. Didn’t you know?”
“No,” she whispered. “I had no idea.”
He laughed agains as he watched her observe his bronzed skin. “Surely you didn’t think I tanned.”
“Actually,” she laughed, “I did.”
He snorted. “You’re more naive than I thought.”
“Is your mother still alive?” she asked.
“You tell me. You’ve met her.” He flashed her a mischievous grin. “Lucinda.”
Thandie couldn’t hide her utter shock. “Lucinda is your mother?” she said. “But I thought—”
“I know what you thought.”
“But you never—”
“You never asked,” he cut in.
Lucinda was Elliot’s mother? That answered many questions. She now understood why Lucinda had so much power over his household and the caring manner in which Elliot always addressed her. This also explained why the woman didn’t appear to have set hours, or how Romero and rest of his staff seemed to go out of their way to appease her. It also accounted
for how such a controlling man could deposit so much trust in what Thandie had previously believed to be only his housekeeper.
How could she not have seen it? Recalling Lucinda’s flawless skin, her thick shining black hair and her high cheekbones, it should have been a dead giveaway. Not that Elliot was the mirror image of Lucinda, but it was those small things that tied them to the same lineage. Elliot’s sharper features, his height, eyes and body frame must have come from his father.
“And your father.”
“What about him?” His voice suddenly became guarded.
“Tell me about him.” She stretched out on her side. Propping herself up on one elbow, she rested her head in her hand, and looked up at him. “He taught you how to sail.”
Elliot lifted his brow.
Thandie smiled slyly. “I don’t forget much either.”
A flicker of great sadness flashed across his eyes when he stared down at her. “He taught me to sail, swim, and do just about everything a little boy craves to learn from his father.”
Thandie considered him. “He was a big part of your life. I’m sure you miss him.”
Elliot’s demeanor had rapidly changed in the few short minutes they’d been speaking. He went from being gentle and considerate to being acutely irritated. He’d startled her by showing a more vulnerable side. Something about that tugged at her heart so painfully it stung her eyes with tears.
But now he was back to the Elliot she knew.
“Fuck this,” he grunted. “We’re not talking about this anymore.” He stood and ran his hand through his hair, paused for a moment and then stared at her, his controlling calm now masterfully restored. “We’re never going to talk about it again, understood?” When she nodded, he slid his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “Now take off your dress for me.”
She was momentarily dumbstruck. Was this his way of dealing with his issues? Did he use sex as a way of creating a barrier around himself? Was this the way he kept people out, using his enormous sex appeal to control them? If so, how did anyone ever get close to him? Was Elliot even capable of letting someone in? Was he so haunted by his past he saw nothing desirable in compassion or love?
Beyond the Velvet Rope Page 33