LaCasse Family Series

by Ju Ephraime

  She was exploring his with determination, seeking a way in. Over and over, she ran the tip of her tongue against his lip until, with a savage growl, he took over the kiss, covering her mouth in a crushing, hungry assault. He loved her and wanted her with a ferocity that left him shaking. He fought to contain the flood of sensations that threatened to overwhelm him and put an end to his resolve. He tried, but his control snapped, and he found himself lifting her and carrying her to the bed.

  Breathing harshly, he kissed her over and over, intoxicated by the softness of her lips. Daphne responded eagerly, pressing her body into his and tilting her hips upward, offering herself to him in helpless abandonment. She curled her fingers into his hair and began moaning and calling his name. Wolfe explored the edges of her teeth and the wet silk of her mouth with his tongue. The blend of emotion and physical hunger was a searing temptation that he fought hard to resist. This was too much—and not enough. It had to go on or to stop.

  With a strong tug on his own reins, he broke off the kiss. Holding his head in his hands, he took a moment to recover his composure. “Why did you do this?” he said hoarsely. “You know we have to leave.”

  “I couldn’t leave without one proper kiss from you! You’ve withdrawn so much. I was beginning to think I’d imagined our time together. Now, at least, I know it was real.”

  “If you do this again, I will not be held accountable for my actions. Let’s get out of this room.”

  She turned, but not before he saw the tears in her eyes.

  Wolfe cradled her face in his hands, touching the tip of her nose and eyelids with his fingers. “It is best this way, Daphne. You will thank me for my control when you get back home. One of us has to be strong.”

  Daphne felt as if the weight of the world was upon her shoulders. She didn’t want to make it worse for Wolfe, so she allowed him to carry one of her suitcases down to the car while she carried the smaller one. She put up a front, laughing and joking with him, as if she didn’t have a care in the world.

  She didn’t want to be strong. She wanted to have Wolfe inside her, around her, on top of her. She wanted him—God, how she wanted him. No, needed him. Her body was hot and weepy, but she couldn’t force him to do what he was so dead set against doing.

  She didn’t talk much during the ride to the airport. She was thinking about being back home and how she would adjust to life without Wolfe. She knew it would be a difficult time in the beginning. But she was also fully aware there was no way she could have remained on the island the way he wanted her to. She hoped more than anything that her leaving would prove to her whether or not this was the famous rebound relationship that people usually cautioned against.

  She glanced at Wolfe, who appeared to be concentrating on his driving much more than usual. She didn’t want to disturb him, but for once, the lack of conversation was getting to her.

  Soon they’d arrived at the airport, and she was in line to be checked in. Is this it? Daphne thought to herself as she watched him walk out of the terminal. She was so blinded by tears that she couldn’t see where she was going. The customs clerk had her hand out to collect her passport, and Daphne just stood there looking at her outstretched hand as if she’d never seen a hand before.

  “I need your passport, miss.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” She handed her the passport and began walking away.

  “Miss, miss! Wait a minute. I am not through with your papers. Are you all right?”

  “Fine,” Daphne responded. “Just exhausted.”

  “You have a long flight; maybe you could use the time to rest,” the customs officer told her, handing Daphne back her passport. Daphne doubted she would rest on the plane. She was leaving her heart in Martinique, and now she believed she’d blown her only chance at true happiness.

  She tried to comfort herself. She was a big girl. She’d made her decision, and she’d live with it. If she was so indecisive, she would only hurt Wolfe. It was better this way. He’d meet a nice island girl, get married and have a family, and live happily ever after. The thought of another woman carrying Wolfe’s child caused her womb to contract in protest, but she’d had her chance. How could she blame Wolfe if he went on with his life and found himself a wife?

  As far as she was concerned, going on and finding another man didn’t seem possible. The very thought of being intimate with another man gave her the creeps. The irony in all this was she’d gone to the island to get away from what she’d thought was a broken heart, only to realize that what she’d thought was a broken heart was really broken pride. The hurt she’d felt after Michael left could in no way compare to the pain she experienced now. It was as if she was coming down with a fever. She was hot, and her mouth was dry and felt like it was stuffed full of cotton. Her body seemed to be reacting because she was not with Wolfe.

  Wolfe was trying hard to accept the fact that Daphne wouldn’t be with him anymore. Looking back, he had tried on numerous occasions to ask himself how he’d allowed Daphne to get under his skin so deeply, so quickly. How had he allowed her to become so important to him? Just thinking about her, he felt his groin reacting, and the fact that he had denied himself the use of her sweet body was playing havoc with his senses. He had no idea how bad it would be when she was finally off the island, but he was bracing himself. His mother liked the famous saying: “What doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger.” He was hoping that was the case in this instance; otherwise, he was so fucked.

  One thing was certain; he was pleased he’d not gone through the long embrace at the airport. It would have destroyed his self-control if he had to hug Daphne in this public place.

  She’d been very quiet at the airport as she took the hand he held out to her. “Is this what we’ve been reduced to?” she asked sadly.

  “Yes, it’s for the best,” he’d told her.

  ”Good-bye, Wolfe, I’ll call you when I get home. Take care of yourself.”

  “Take care of yourself too, my love,” he responded. He’d turned and walked away before she’d gone through the security check. He couldn’t stay a minute longer. He could only keep a stiff upper lip for so long.

  E ighteen

  Daphne took her seat on the plane. She had a window seat just as she did on her flight in. She closed her eyes to avoid looking out the window to the retreating island. She must have been exhausted because she woke four hours later. She was surprised to find she’d slept through almost the entire flight. She felt like crap. She went to freshen up in the bathroom and was just in time to see the landmark of New York as the plane approached the landing.

  She went through customs quickly and made her way to the arrival terminal, and there was Gayle waiting for her with a big grin on her face.

  “I missed you, Daph. Did you have a good time?”

  “I had a wonderful time, and now I’m ready to get back to work.” There was no way she was going to share her experience on the island with anyone, not even Gayle. It was too new, painful. She didn’t even want to touch that place in her heart. “How are things back at the office?”

  “Fine,” Gayle responded. “We landed a big contract with BMI.”

  “Wow. Really! That’s excellent. Then I have my work cut out for me. That’s going to keep us busy for a while, hard work and long hours. Think you’re up to it?”

  “For sure!” responded Gayle. “Actually, Jason got laid off from his job; we sure could use the extra cash.”

  Traffic was light, a rarity for New York, but great for Daphne. They made it to her home in record time. She was sort of happy to be home, but the house seemed lonely and silent. Truth be told, the house was always silent. It was that kind of house. It was old and well insulated, and sound did not carry in it or into it. She had loved the silence before, but now it was messing with her concentration, closing in on her. She had to keep telling herself to get ahold of herself.

  She regretted not telling Gayle about Wolfe when she had the chance. Now she didn’t want to bring it up, bu
t she so needed someone to talk to. She thought, though, it best to not spend too much time with Gayle. She was very perceptive, and it wouldn’t be long before she’d start interrogating her. Gayle, more than anyone else, would notice the change in her. She could hide behind flight exhaustion only for so long. That’s what happens when your pool of friends is so limited.

  She took her leave of Gayle, using the need to go grocery shopping as the reason. She spent what was left of the day restocking her refrigerator, picking up her mail at the post office, and doing laundry, all in an effort to take her mind off the loneliness that weighed on her heart.

  She prepared a sandwich and salad for dinner, but even though she hadn’t eaten since the previous day, she wasn’t hungry. She knew she was going to be sick if she didn’t get some nourishment inside her soon; lack of food tended to give her migraine headaches. It was just that her heart was heavy, and no matter what she did, she couldn’t seem to snap out of it.

  I wonder what Wolfe is doing right now. I miss him like crazy.

  She took out her computer and tried to bring herself up to speed on what had been going on with the company in her absence. When she was done with that, she went through her pile of mail. Catalogs for things she didn’t want—special offers that weren’t special—bank statements, bills, nothing that held her interest for a moment. It was half an hour till midnight, and she was wired. She began cleaning the kitchen. She went through the place from top to bottom, polishing and shining her pots, pans, and silverware. As dawn was breaking, she prepared her clothes for work and drew herself a steaming-hot bath.

  It was eight-thirty a.m. when she woke up in a tub of cold water. If she didn’t hurry, she’d be late for work, but she couldn’t build up the enthusiasm to hurry.

  Maybe when I get to work, it’ll be better. Work always grounds me. She tried to put herself into her work persona. Perhaps it was silly, but it seemed important to her that none of her partners know she’d gotten involved with someone while on vacation. She would be embarrassed if they found out. They might label her as unstable. Worse, they might feel sorry for her, this being her third failed relationship, sort of.

  The days following Daphne’s departure might as well have been months; Wolfe could do nothing but think about Daphne. He realized that she was as necessary to him as he’d claimed her to be. He’d told her he belonged to her. Well, she hadn’t admitted it out loud, but he knew she was his in the same elemental way. Ever since he’d met her on the beach, he had been hers, and there was nothing he could do about it. It was just the way of things.

  Wolfe went about his business with focused concentration. He avoided all mention of Daphne, but the separation caused him to ache physically. It wasn’t a sharp pain but a dull emptiness in every part of him. He craved the sight and sound of her, her carefree attitude, and love of life. He’d not realized how many of his waking hours had been occupied with her. He found it difficult to speak her name without experiencing pain. When Foxx tried to engage him in a discussion about her, he pretended to be deeply engrossed in the menu preparation and ignored the subject completely, giving him a dose of his own medicine.

  “Speaking of women, did you get a chance to see Therèse?”

  “What do you think?” Foxx asked him.

  “Where you and Therèse are concerned, I’m not thinking,” he responded. “I’m only telling you to tread with caution. When she was here before, she was good-looking, but when I met her the other day, she had grown into a very beautiful woman. I don’t think you’ll be able to ignore the allure of her. You’re too susceptible, and I don’t want to have to pick up the pieces again.”

  “We are a fine pair,” Foxx admitted with a harsh laugh. “Here we are getting involved with two women that we had no business talking to, let alone getting into emotional entanglements with. One would think, after you’d witnessed my downfall with Therèse, you’d have known better than to become involved with Daphne, but there you were, going in, head first. Or perhaps not head first,” he said with a snicker.

  “So you’re a comedian now. You’re making jokes at my expense,” Wolfe responded.

  “Well, we both know which part of your anatomy you were thinking with when you started the affair with Daphne. I did try to warn you, but you were having none of it. Matter of fact, you were like a man possessed. I knew you were in trouble when you began neglecting your duties here at the restaurant.”

  “I hate to disabuse you of your idea,” Wolfe responded, “but I was enthralled before you even became aware of Daphne. I was hooked from the first encounter. It was as if she were a drug, and I, an addict. I couldn’t get enough of her. I’ve looked back on the entire thing and examined it from all angles, but there were no warning signs; being with her felt right from the beginning. It was as if I’d been waiting all these years for her to come along. I don’t know how to explain it, but I believe every yang has its yin, and Daphne is my yin. Unfortunately, she didn’t feel the same. She was attracted to me all right, just not enough. Her pull to her country was stronger. Donc, avancer avec prudence, mon frère, so, tread with caution, my brother.”

  “My,” Foxx commented, “this is a lot coming from you, one who dislikes the spoken word. Are you going through a metamorphosis? I almost don’t recognize you. Please don’t go changing on me, brother. I loved you just the way you were. Don’t allow that woman to control you from across the ocean. She is no longer here. And take it from someone who knows, it gets better. I won’t tell you it will go away completely, but it fades a bit with time. But whatever happens, I will be there for you, as you were for me. Anyway, enough of this, let’s get back to working the restaurants, like we did before this madness.”

  “Let’s get one thing straight, my relationship with Daphne was not madness… Ecstasy, yes, madness, no!”

  N ineteen

  Daphne wandered to the terrace gardens behind her office, following the curved path around a bed of vividly blue violets and beautiful jasmine. These flowers were usually able to calm her when she was feeling down, but today, they didn’t seem to have the magic. Her mind was in turmoil. In the three weeks since her return, not an hour had gone by without thoughts of Wolfe crowding her head.

  She slept every night in one of his shirts, which she’d kept after her second visit to his home. She’d been meaning to have it laundered and returned to him, but somehow she never got around to doing so. And before she knew it, she was packing to leave. Now she was thankful she hadn’t returned it. She couldn’t even bring herself to wash it for fear of removing his scent. I’m so pathetic.

  She spent more hours at work than at home, and it was beginning to take its toll on her. She took no interest in her appearance, and people were beginning to notice. She had to make a better show of things. She knew she’d lost weight. Her clothes hung on her, as if they belonged to someone else. She promised herself she would go clothes shopping, but she hadn’t been able to build up the interest to do so. She kept saying, “Maybe tomorrow.”

  It was just difficult to work up enthusiasm for anything that was not work related. She’d fallen into a pattern: work, work, and more work. She’d taken to bringing quite a bit of work home with her, finding it essential to keep busy. Any idle time found her back on the island with Wolfe. He haunted her dreams, the only place where she allowed her emotions free rein. She reveled in those dreams. She soared with him, and sometimes he brought her to an orgasm in the dream. This was all she had, and she took it gratefully.

  She’d tried talking with him on the telephone, but he was very cold and distant. The conversations were very one-sided. She could tell he was still very angry with her, but he never came out and said it. Also, in the three weeks since she’d returned to the U.S., he hadn’t once initiated a telephone call to her. She’d even tried emailing him at the restaurant, but Wolfe had told her he had a dislike for the computer and cell phones equally and only used them if he absolutely had to. She didn’t think he even checked his emails because she ne
ver received a response from the numerous ones she’d sent to him.

  In her very first phone call to him after her return to the U.S., he told her in no uncertain terms he was not interested in a long-distance relationship, if that’s what she was hoping for. To hear him tell it, he was not cut out for it. But she’d kept trying now and then to touch base; it had not worked. She had to acknowledge that she’d made the wrong choice in returning to America. What she thought was important to her, saving her partnership, she had since come to realize wasn’t so important. Wolfe had become the most important thing in her life. Her need to be a partner in the company paled in comparison to her need to be with Wolfe. She thought she was so strong, so independent, but it had turned out she could only be just so strong. In the scheme of things, no partnership was worth her happiness. Being with Wolfe was important to her survival.

  Wolfe crossed off each day of Daphne’s absence on a calendar he kept on his desk. When he had crossed off fifty-six days, he began to develop a restlessness that would not quit. In the time since she’d left, Daphne had made several phone calls to him, the day following her arrival back home and once in a while, she would try reaching out again.

  He hadn’t been very accommodating when she called, nor had he called her once. He realized he was not cut out to be in one part of the world while the woman he loved was in another. He was having a difficult time carrying on a long-distance relationship with her. He had his principles, and he was dead set against giving her a false sense of his acceptance of her decision to reject his offer of marriage and return to America.

  He knew it would ease him a bit if he talked with her over the phone, as she evidently wanted him to, but then when he hung up the phone, he knew he would be in deeper shit. He couldn’t see her, touch her, and kiss her sexy lips. What would he have accomplished by this long-distance conversation? Nothing! The object of his desire was still denied to him. He was not a man who was good at making small talk and making do, and he’d be damned if he was going to start now.