by Ju Ephraime
She’d always marveled at the way he moved. With an economy of motion, he moved so silently all she felt was the slight shift in the wind after he’d gone by. He could go from one spot to the next without making the least bit of sound. It took her a while to get used to that so it no longer spooked her.
Tonight, she’d been able to watch him unobserved. His red hair had gotten lighter. At least it appeared that way to her. She had taken to thinking of him as Red, as his friends did, because the name somehow suited him. She never tired of watching him.
In the past, he would catch her eyeing him and ask if he had something out of place, but she just loved looking at him. He had the most gorgeous body, with wide, powerful shoulders that tapered down to a narrow waist, nice firm buttocks, and powerful legs with muscles that began in his butt and continued all the way to his calves.
Not bulky, he was all lean, powerful muscles, which could be attributed to the many hours he spent on the soccer field. Foxx was an avid player, and there was always a write-up in the local paper about his exploits on the field.
He was well known for his powerful legs and exceptional skills as a dribbler. She used to watch him in awe as he dribbled the ball, keeping it away from the opposing team until he was good and ready to release it to one of his teammates or to shoot it into the net.
There was so much force behind his kicks that the goalie would move out of the way when he saw that Foxx had the ball and was getting ready to blast it in his direction. Every movement of his powerful body was done with grace and fluidity, employing no wasted effort.
Sometimes she would watch him and couldn’t help comparing him to a predatory animal. He exerted control over his movements with the least possible effort. His was a body to admire, and she’d never gotten over the fact it was all hers for the taking.
chapter
FOUR
Tearing her eyes away from his penetrating stare, she reflected on how little it would take for him to bring her to her knees, literally. She had no doubt he could reduce her to begging if he so desired. She had not experienced one day of happiness since the day she’d boarded the plane back to good old England.
Forcing herself to look directly at him, she searched for an opening, a way to try to reach him. “Foxx, you haven’t changed in the least.”
“How do you know whether I’ve changed or not?” he asked. “You see only what you want to see, what's convenient for you.”
“Foxx, I don’t want to have an angry conversation with you. Can we at least be civil to each other?”
“Therèse, I’d rather not be having any conversation with you. If you’ll excuse me, I’m running late for an appointment.”
“Can you just spare me a couple of minutes?”
“No,” he responded. “I told you I have to be going.”
As she reached out and placed her hand on his arm, she felt the muscle jerk under her fingers. When he spoke again, he reverted to his native French. “Que voulez-vous avec moi?”
“What do I want with you?”
His words were the only indication he wasn’t as unmoved as he appeared. He’d only spoken to her in French when his emotions were close to the surface. It was something she’d noticed before, but she’d kept the information to herself. Now she knew for certain his emotions were riding him; whether angry or otherwise, she couldn’t tell, but that slip was very revealing.
She responded to him in French also, hoping he would understand she was serious.
“Pouvons-nous répondre pour le café demain? Vous le nom du lieu. Je veux juste en parlant avec vous.”
“Let me get this right. You want to meet with me tomorrow? Just to talk with me?
He glanced strangely at her. For one brief moment, there was a hungry look in his eyes, which was quickly replaced by an impassive expression. He quickly reined it in, but she had seen the look before he was able to mask it. She fought to conceal the emotional upheaval she was going through just standing next to him.
“I’ll not take too much of your time,” she said. “I promise.”
“I don’t need any promises from you, Therèse. I have a game tomorrow afternoon. I’ll see you after the game. How about 6:30? Would you like me to come to your hotel, or would you like to meet someplace else?”
“You can come to my hotel. I’ll meet you in the bar next to the lobby. Do you know where I’m staying?”
“No, why would I know at which hotel you are staying?”
“Hmm, that’s funny. I thought you knew everything that took place on the island.”
“Excusez-moi?”
“This was meant to be a joke. I’m staying at La Suite Villa at Trois-Ilets.”
“My, we have certainly moved on up. How much have you accomplished, Therèse? You seem to have done well for yourself to be able to afford one of the most expensive hotels on the island for such a long stay.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Foxx.” Turning, she walked away from him with her slow, gliding walk.
And just like that, she was gone. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he replied under his breath, his hungry gaze tracking her carefully until she disappeared from view.
Foxx wandered through the crowd, making his way back to his vehicle. The concert no longer held any appeal for him. He was feeling very conflicted, and he needed to talk with Wolfe.
Wolfe didn’t like Therèse and wanted nothing to do with her, but Foxx needed someone to talk with. Being so close to her and not able to touch her had been sheer torture. It had taken a lot of control to keep his hands off her. He needed her so.
There was a slight tremor in his fingers as he reached for the handle to open the door of his vehicle. He had to try three times before he was finally able to grasp it and pull the door open.
Evidently, the strain of being so close to Therèse and not being able to touch her was even greater than he had anticipated.
He went into automatic mode as he merged the car into the traffic and turned on the road to his brother’s restaurant. He flipped open his cell phone and called the restaurant to make certain Wolfe was there. He was in luck. Wolfe answered the phone on the third ring.
“How much longer are you going to be there?” he asked.
“I’m here until closing, why?”
“I want to talk with you.
Wolfe sensed something was wrong with Foxx. After all, they were twins, and when one hurt, so did the other. He didn’t know what had happened, but he already suspected one culprit, Therèse.
No one had been able to affect his brother the way that woman had. He hoped Foxx had not taken up with her again. When he’d seen her at the café on the pier, he suspected she was up to something. He had not interfered because, at that moment, he had been going through his own hell with Daphne.
He’d been prepared to drop everything in his pursuit of Daphne. He was thankful they had been able to resolve things and realize they belonged together. Thank God that was all behind him now. But for a while back then, it had been touch and go. He didn’t know what he would have done if hadn't had Foxx to rely on.
Foxx had been a rock through his problem with Daphne, and now it was his turn to be supportive. But he knew it would be difficult for him to show any sympathy toward Therèse. For his brother’s sake, though, he would try.
Foxx drove his car on autopilot. He wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings because his mind was completely occupied with the image of Therèse at the concert. The rich mass of hair that framed her face in a riot of dark curls still moved him.
In the two years since he’d seen her, time had made her only more beautiful. Her body was ripe and prime, her gorgeous breasts even more tempting than he remembered.
Her face was a bit thinner now, but it served only to enhance her assets. Those full lips had been moist with the gloss she had applied, and her cheekbones appeared more prominent, giving her an almost Asian look.
She still wore very little makeup on her flawless skin. There was a hint of rose in
her complexion, just enough to contrast with her jet-black hair. She’d reminded him of the unending joy he used to have with her. There was no joy in his life now. Now he only existed. She had ruined him for all other women.
chapter
FIVE
Pulling into the parking lot of the restaurant, he could not help wondering why Therèse had remained unmarried. Perhaps she liked playing the field.
Whatever the reason, it really didn’t matter. He had no intentions of taking up with her again no matter what sad story she came up with when he met her tomorrow. It was what he told himself anyway, but he couldn’t control his body’s reaction when he allowed himself to think of how they used to be.
He was beginning to question his decision in agreeing to meet with her in the first place. He didn’t know what he’d been thinking; he must have had a moment of insanity.
He walked into the restaurant and saw Wolfe waiting to meet him at the door.
“Qu’est-ce qui se passe?” Switching quickly to English, he repeated his question, “What’s going on?”
“Nothing. I wanted to discuss an issue with you.”
He and Wolfe continued walking side by side. He knew they were a striking pair when they walked together. They were both tall men, but he was just a tad leaner than Wolfe—the difference was in the way their musculatures were developed—similar, yet different. When they were together with the color of their eyes hidden behind their signature dark glasses, it was almost impossible to tell them apart, but for their eyes.
Wolfe’s were dark, almost obsidian in color, whereas his were more green than hazel, and he had a slightly reddish tint to his hair. Sometime to further confuse people, Wolfe would dye his hair the exact shade of red. That threw most people off. Nonetheless, apart or together, they were always the subject of admiring glances and comments.
On arriving at Wolfe’s office, they went into his private room. He turned to Wolfe as they helped themselves to a glass of the drink they both favored over all others: Hennessy cognac, straight up.
Wolfe met his gaze questioningly. Foxx was thankful for the close relationship he had with his brother. More than that, the way they complemented each other was phenomenal. They each possessed characteristics the other lacked.
Wolfe was an excellent cook who preferred to remain in the background. He was extremely private and was content with his own company, more comfortable alone than in a crowd. Foxx was the exact opposite. He was an okay cook, but an excellent manager because he had a head for figures and he was able to communicate with people on all levels.
Where Wolfe operated in the background, Foxx loved the limelight. He was always surrounded by friends, both men and women. Part of it could be attributed to his choice of sport, but a lot of it was just all Foxx. He’d always been able to interact with his fans and friends yet still remain unattached, until Therèse.
The shadow of a smile crossed Wolfe’s mouth. “I take it you had a meeting with Therèse. Were you able to find out why she returned to the island?”
“No.” Foxx stared moodily through his fingers, which covered his face as he rubbed them back and forth.
“Will you stop this?” Wolfe said. “You’re making me nervous. I fear you’ll rub your skin off. Did she seem as if she wanted to take up where the two of you left off?”
“I couldn’t tell for certain. She asked to meet with me tomorrow. I agreed, but I’m having second thoughts now, which is why I wanted to talk with you.”
“Vous ne voulez pas parler avec moi. You don’t want to talk with me. You know damned well what I’ll tell you. Leave that woman alone. She is bad news.”
“Wolfe, I feel I owe it to myself to hear what she has to say. My heart may want to cry foul, but my body remembers. I’ve worried through many a night wondering if there was anything I missed while I was busy courting her. I admit I was two years younger than I am today, but I was a full-grown man who’d been with too many women to count. There was no way I could have misinterpreted her reaction to me. This, more than anything, has me baffled.”
“Well, you can be baffled all you like, Foxx. The fact of the matter is you may have been out of your league with this woman. She’s different from the girls on the island.”
“What are you implying? Do you think you know every girl I’ve been with? You’re so wrong. Now will you please keep an open mind and listen without offering opinions?”
“Okay, go ahead, my brother, shoot.”
Foxx took a deep breath. “I’m usually the level-headed one, but when it comes to Therèse, I feel totally inadequate. I am always trying to second-guess myself. Take tonight, for instance. I’d gone to the concert knowing she would be there and was fully prepared to engage with her, but when the opportunity presented itself, I chickened out and allowed her to walk away.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself. You are, after all is said and done, only a man…a man in love.”
“I admit I do love Therèse. I thought the feeling would have diminished by now, but it appears to have grown cautiously stronger. If you know what I mean.”
“Yes, I do know what you mean. Don’t forget, I was not too long ago there myself. It’s ironic we not only shared a womb but we even follow the same pattern in our love life.”
“No kidding. Now I’ve set myself up for a sleepless night and an equally miserable day until I see her tomorrow evening. If I didn’t have a game tomorrow, I would drink myself senseless and take to my bed, oblivious to the world.”
“Well, do the next best thing,” Wolfe suggested. “Come spend the night with Daphne and me. We’ll keep you entertained and put you in a good mood for your meeting with Therèse tomorrow. I seriously don’t think you should be alone.”
“That is the first sane thing you’ve said since I arrived here. I believe I’ll take you up on the offer.”
“Good, let’s go find something to eat. I’m starved, and after playing Good Samaritan, I need some sustenance to maintain my streak of good nature.”
“You? Streak of good nature? Whatever you say, far be it from me to contradict you.”
They went into the kitchen and prepared braised conch, Caribbean bass in a honey nutmeg sauce, goat meat pie, and an exquisite banana tart for dessert. They spent the rest of the night talking and laughing about various friends and acquaintances. The subject of Therèse was avoided, as if by mutual consent.
They closed the restaurant for the night together around 1:30 a.m. Wolfe left his vehicle, and both brothers drove to Wolfe’s home in Foxx’s car. Wolfe had called ahead to alert Daphne that Foxx was coming home with him and he’d be spending the night.
Daphne was ecstatic. She liked Foxx and thought he was good for Wolfe because they were a funny pair when they were together. She did not question Wolfe but went about making sure one of the guest bedrooms was stocked and ready for Foxx.
He did not spend much time socializing with Daphne and Wolfe. For one thing, he had to have a good night’s sleep if he was going to be ready to play the next day. Secondly, Daphne and Wolfe were at that stage in their relationship where they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. He didn’t want to witness their display of love for each other when he was hurting like hell, both physically and emotionally.
He tossed and turned most of the night and only fell asleep when it was almost daylight. When he got up, he felt like crap. Foxx refused Daphne’s offer of breakfast and made do with a couple of cups of coffee, so by the time he got to the ball field for his hour of practice before the game, he was completely wired.
Playing on autopilot, he wasn't able to concentrate on the game, no matter how hard he tried. All he could think about was seeing and talking with Therèse.
He didn’t know whether to be happy or angry. These two strong emotions were playing havoc with his concentration, and in the end, his team lost the game, three to one. He knew his teammates would not blame him for the loss, but he still felt terrible because he knew he did not perform at his best.
He didn’t stay to socialize after the game and was in his car and out the parking lot before some of the fans had dispersed. He especially wanted to avoid the local reporters. He didn’t want anyone questioning him about the way he’d played that game. He was able to breathe freely the minute he was on the highway and listening to music in his car.
chapter
SIX
He made the thirty-minute drive to his home in fewer than twenty. Usually, he was always happy to be home because the house had that effect on him. Two years before, he had hired an interior designer who specialized in feng shui to set the karma of his home just right.
She had done a terrific job, and he could usually feel it the moment he drove into the garage. Today, however, that effect was lost on him because he was preoccupied with Therèse.
He rushed in and checked his answering machine for messages; there were three. He listened to them as he stripped on his way to the bathroom. None of them was extremely important. The first one was from Wolfe checking up on him. The second was from his manager at the restaurant, who wanted to inform him they had a shortage of help for the dinner rush. His assistant was out because his wife was having a baby.
The third message was from his sister, needing to talk with him. He already knew what that meant. She needed a loan. Every couple of months she wanted him to bail her out of the huge credit card bills she’d acquired.
This had created a big problem in her marriage, and quite frankly, it was beginning to get to him, too. He was tired of it.
He called the restaurant back and promised to be there in time to help out with dinner, but advised the manager to move one of the more experienced sous-chefs in to help him. He also recommended calling the culinary school to see if they had anyone who showed promise and would be willing to work on a part-time basis.