Seized by Seduction--A Compelling Tale of Romance, Love and Intrigue

by Brenda Jackson

  “I see.”

  “Sorry if the noise bothered you. I’m sure you were trying to get some rest.”

  He shook his head. “No, I was awake, waiting for sunrise.”

  She lifted a brow. “Sunrise.”

  “Yes. See?” he said, pointing at her window.

  She turned, and what she saw nearly took her breath away. Now the ocean was visible with the sun rising over it. “Oh, Quasar,” she said, rushing across the room to the window. “The view from here is gorgeous. Come see it with me.”

  She felt heat radiating off him when he stood beside her. “It is beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked softly. “I’ve gotten used to seeing the Atlantic Ocean, but for me, there’s nothing more gorgeous than the Pacific.”

  Randi looked out the window while puzzling over why he had given up his Malibu home for almost seven years if he loved the Pacific. He could have come back after he was released from jail but had chosen not to. “I can’t believe how close this house is to the beach. Your godmother must have loved you a lot to give you this place as a gift.”

  “She never hesitated to tell me that she loved me. She was a very affectionate woman,” he said, smiling. “My fondest memories are of spending my summers with her. She was a lot of fun and quite a character.”

  “In what way?”

  “Too many to name. She was an advocate for human rights, animal rights and the environment. I remember her taking on the mayor of LA when he approved plans to demolish her old high school.”

  “Did she win?”

  “Yes, she gathered enough support to pressure City Hall to come up with a new plan. They turned the school into a museum and even named one of the wings after her. I hope before you leave LA I can give you a tour.”

  “I’d like that.”

  He looked at his watch. “It’s not quite seven, and we need to eat breakfast after our walk on the beach. I talked to Agent Riviera and assured him I would have you back in LA by ten.”

  “Breakfast? There’s food here?”

  “Yes. I told my property manager last night to make sure that the place was ready for us and that we had enough food in stock.”

  Randi wondered if that meant the property manager’s employee had gone grocery shopping after midnight. “If you recall, last week I mentioned not being a kitchen kind of girl.”

  He chuckled. “I remember. I guess it’s a good thing that I’m a kitchen kind of guy.”

  She smiled. “In that case, I would love to go walking on the beach.”

  At that moment her phone rang, and she knew from the ringtone it was her sister. She glanced at Quasar. “It’s Haywood. I was about to call her when I dropped my phone. I’ll bet she heard about what happened on the news.”

  She then clicked on the phone. “Haywood?”

  “Randi! You okay? Trey just read what happened in this morning’s paper. Why didn’t you call?”

  Randi drew in a deep breath. Haywood was all but screaming. She was certain Quasar could hear her sister’s dramatics. “Calm down, Haywood. I’m fine. I was about to call. The reason I didn’t last night is that my brain was fried and the only thing I wanted to do was sleep.”

  “I’m glad you’re okay. I can’t believe someone tried to kill you.”

  “It’s hard for me to believe, as well, but I was able to defend myself with my karate.”

  “I’m glad those karate classes came in handy.”

  “Me, too.” No reason to admit to Haywood that in all honesty, she’d never been so afraid in her life, taking on a killer.

  “Randi, Trey’s right here. He wants me to tell you that if you need a safe place to stay, he has friends in LA who can—”

  “That’s not necessary. I’m already in safe hands,” she said, peering up at Quasar.

  “I thought so. I told Trey, Zack and Anna that you’re probably under tight FBI security and all.”

  She could let her sister continue to think that way, or she could let her know the truth.

  “Not really. I have a bodyguard.”

  “A bodyguard?”

  She heard her brother echo the word and figured he was hovering over Haywood. “Yes,” she confirmed. “A bodyguard.”

  “Is he reliable? We’re talking about your life here.”

  Randi couldn’t help but smile as her gaze still held Quasar’s. “Yes, he’s reliable. In fact, you’ve met him.”

  “I have?”

  “Yes.”

  “When? Who is he?”

  “Quasar Patterson.”

  There was a pause, and then Randi chuckled at the flood of questions that poured from her sister’s mouth. Just as she’d known would happen. “I have to go, Haywood. I’ll call the folks myself, but just in case I can’t reach them, if you talk to them, please let them know I’m fine.”

  “But—but—”

  “We’ll talk again later, Haywood. I will call you. Don’t call me. I’m working, remember? Goodbye.”

  Randi clicked off the phone and placed it on the TV table as she drew in a deep breath. “Haywood was concerned.”

  “I gathered. Thanks for believing I’m reliable.”

  She shrugged. “How could I not? Thanks to that dream you had, which turned out not to be crazy, after all. You figured I was in danger when I didn’t have a clue. I appreciated you being my backup last night.”

  He chuckled. “Like I told you, it looked to me like you were handling things pretty damn well on your own.”

  “Yes, but what if he’d managed to take me down? You would have arrived at just the right time to stop him.”

  “Hell, I hope so,” he said, gently stroking the bruise on her arm.

  His touch sent heat cascading through her. When he reached up and gently cupped her mouth, hot, smoldering air shimmered around them. He didn’t say anything, nor did he do anything. He just stood there, staring at her and causing the already fiery temperature surrounding them to rise even more. He had to be, without a doubt, the most virile man on the face of this planet. Any planet. She couldn’t help it, but her senses were being overtaken by his scent and his physique. The man was so friggin’ hot, blazing with erotic energy and causing stimulating awareness to thrum through every part of her body.

  He took a step closer. Or did she? Honestly, it didn’t matter who made the move when the lower parts of their bodies touched. The rush of desire that clawed at her just couldn’t be ignored or denied.

  When she couldn’t stand the intensity of the sexual chemistry encasing them any longer, she whispered his name. “Quasar.”

  As if on cue, he leaned in and took her mouth with a need that she felt all the way to her toes. Was she imagining things or had the floor just shifted under her feet? She soon became disoriented with the languid, swirling strokes of his tongue with hers.

  Her phone rang, and she pulled back from the kiss. To keep her balance, she placed her hands on his bare chest and felt the warmth of his hairy skin beneath her fingers.

  “Are you going to get that?” Quasar asked in that too-sexy voice.

  She looked up at him and thought about ignoring the call but knew better. She recognized the ringtone. This time the caller was Trey. If she didn’t answer, he would be on the next plane to LA. Evidently he wanted to speak with her himself to make sure she was okay. “Yes, I’d better. It’s Trey.”

  Quasar swiped a kiss across her lips. Straightening and then taking a step back, he said, “Let’s meet downstairs in half an hour for our walk on the beach.”

  “Okay.”

  He left the bedroom as she grabbed for her phone.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  QUASAR HAD BARELY made it back to his bedroom when his own cell phone rang. Recognizing the ringtone, he answered, “Yeah, Striker?”

 
; “I heard what happened. Are you and your woman okay?”

  Quasar frowned. “My woman?”

  He heard Striker’s chuckle. “Still in denial, are you? Okay, then, let me rephrase that. Are you and the psychic okay?”

  Quasar wasn’t sure he liked that any better. The way Striker said it was as if Randi was some delusional person. “We’re okay. I’m officially her bodyguard.”

  “Roland told us. How did the Feds take that?”

  “Honestly, I didn’t give a damn. As far as I’m concerned, they should have anticipated some craziness happening when they summoned her out here.”

  “Anticipated it like you obviously did?”

  Quasar gave some thought to Striker’s question. He couldn’t deny the dream and those negative vibes he’d gotten before coming here. But he couldn’t help wondering how Striker had figured it out. It never ceased to amaze him how Stonewall and Striker could deduce things when it came to him. “I guess so. All I know is that I’m not letting her out of my sight.”

  “Do they know who put the hit on her?”

  “If they do, they aren’t saying. And of course Randi’s determined to stay and help solve the case. If it was left up to me, she would have been on the first plane back to Virginia.”

  “Getting kind of possessive, are we?”

  An intense scowl touched Quasar’s features. He wasn’t in the mood for Striker’s wisecracks. “I got this. Don’t worry about it.”

  “And where are you now?”

  “At that beach house I own. It’s in a gated community with a private beach. But the Feds are parked on the outskirts, keeping tabs on who comes and goes.”

  “Be careful and trust no one. Not even the Feds.”

  Quasar knew why Striker was telling him that and was smart enough to heed his friend’s warning. “Gotcha. Where is Stonewall?”

  “At the barber. He’s finally going on a date with his detective tonight and making a damn big production out of it. I guess he wants to look all dolled up and shit. Oh, by the way, Margo and I set a date for our wedding.”

  Quasar wasn’t really surprised. They’d held out longer than he figured. “So when is it?” he asked, sliding off his pajamas and slipping on a pair of shorts.

  “Next month. You don’t sound surprised.”

  “If you recall, I’m the one who delivered the meals every day when you were protecting her. I know firsthand how hot things were between you and Margo. And since you claim you love her...”

  “I don’t claim anything. I love her. Till death do us part and all that shit.”

  Quasar smiled. He liked getting a rise out of Striker as much as he knew Striker enjoyed getting one out of him. “I thought the two of you had decided to date awhile.”

  Striker snorted before saying, “We did the dating thing and decided it was a waste of our time. We want to be husband and wife, and there’s no reason to wait any longer. It will be a private affair on her uncle’s estate, and I want you there. You can even bring the psychic with you.”

  Quasar fought hard not to grit his teeth. “Her name is Dr. Randi Fuller, Striker.”

  “Whatever. I’ll talk with you later. If you need help, just call. Stonewall and I will be on the first plane out.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Hey! Wait! I forgot to ask. Have you made contact with your family yet?”

  “No.”

  “But you will, right?”

  “That’s the plan.”

  “Good. Take it from me, closure is everything. I’ll talk to you later.”

  Quasar clicked off the phone and continued to get dressed. Your woman.

  Striker’s words came back to him, but he shook off the stifling thought. He didn’t have a woman. Lilly had taught him a lesson he would never forget.

  * * *

  “I’M FINE, TREY. Honest, I am.”

  “I read the full details in the paper, Randi. Someone broke into your hotel room intending to kill you. The bastard even shot into the bed, which luckily you weren’t in.”

  Why did he have to remind her of all that? “I know. But I’m okay.”

  “And what’s this about you having a bodyguard? Although I think it’s a damn good idea, Haywood said it’s the same guy you introduced us to at the zoo last weekend.”

  “It is.”

  “What is he doing in LA? Did he follow you there? Is he stalking you? Did you invite him along? How well do you know this dude?”

  Randi tossed her hair back from her face. “Stop interrogating me, Trey. I’m not your client and you’re not my attorney. Quasar works for a security firm. You saw him that night at the Kennedy Center.”

  “Yeah, I remember. I also remember that for some reason you pretended not to know him. Yet you were with him the next day, all lovey-dovey, holding hands at the zoo.”

  Of course her brother would remember that. “All you need to know, Ross Donovan Fuller III, is that Quasar knows how to protect people and volunteered to be my bodyguard while I’m here. That’s all there is to it.”

  “Not by a long shot. You left out a few details, sis. Like why the hell he was in LA in the first place.”

  “Last time I checked, this was a free country. He can go anywhere he pleases. Now, if you don’t mind, I have to meet with the FBI Special Agent this morning. I came to LA for a reason.”

  “And you’re determined to stay and help? I read about those gangs. They are ruthless, murderers and—”

  “—innocent of any crime until proven guilty. I’m sure the attorney in you knows that, but it just slipped your mind. Love you, Trey. Chat with you later.” She made several kissy sounds for his benefit before clicking off the phone. Older alpha male brothers. You just had to love them.

  Randi then thought of another alpha male and glanced at the clock on the wall. She’d lost ten minutes talking to Trey, and she still needed to reach her parents.

  At that moment she recalled last night and how she’d come apart during the drive to the beach house and the words he’d spoken while holding her, comforting her. More than once he’d used terms of endearment in one of the sexiest voices she’d ever heard. She knew he still assumed she didn’t understand Spanish, and maybe it was time for her to tell him about her fluency in the language. But he’d said the only time he spoke Spanish was when his emotions were high. She knew everyone needed an outlet for emotions and didn’t want him to stop using his if he knew she understood what he said. So for now, she wouldn’t tell him.

  Satisfied with that decision, she placed a call to her parents.

  * * *

  QUASAR GLANCED UP when he heard a sound at the top of the stairs. Randi descended, and his heart almost stopped beating. Like him, she had pulled her hair back in a ponytail, which made her features even more captivating. Then there were the shorts and top that emphasized delectable curves, nice full and firm breasts and a gorgeous pair of legs.

  His gaze moved upward from her legs to her face and zeroed in on the lusciousness of the lips that he’d had the pleasure of tasting several times and still couldn’t get enough of.

  “Sorry if I kept you waiting,” she said when she stepped off the last stair.

  He couldn’t help the smile that touched his lips. She smelled as good as she looked. “I just came down myself.”

  He’d gotten calls from Stonewall and Shep. Like Striker, they’d wanted to know he was okay. He’d also gotten a call from Louis, which Quasar had refused to take. Paul had probably told his father he was in town, and the old man figured Quasar had made the trip because he’d been ordered to do so. Louis didn’t know just how wrong he was about that. Quasar would call him back when he got good and ready and not before.

  “Nice outfit,” he said, while hot and sharp desire clawed at his insides.

 
“Thanks. I packed a few beachy pieces. I wasn’t sure whether I’d get the chance to wear them or not.”

  “I’m hoping that before you return home, maybe I can entice you to stay for a few days to relax here.”

  A smile spread across Randi’s lips. “I would love to.” She then glanced around. “Last night I was too tired to appreciate the beauty of this place. It’s really nice.”

  “Thanks. When we get back from our walk, I’ll show you around.”

  “Okay.”

  “Ready to go?”

  “Yes.”

  He led them through a set of French doors, and they stepped out on a screened-in patio with a beautiful brick floor. But what captured Randi’s attention more than anything was the sight of the ocean that had to be no more than fifty feet away. It was a beautiful day in May, and she thought the weather here was wonderful.

  “You might want to take your sandals off,” Quasar said, and Randi saw him slip out of his own shoes. He pulled a pair of aviator sunglasses out of his shirt pocket and put them on.

  “I have no problem doing that,” she said, fully aware every pore in her body was attuned to him as a hot, stunningly masculine man. “I love the feel of beach sand beneath my feet.”

  Moments later, after she’d shielded her eyes with her own pair of sunglasses, they began walking toward the beach. They didn’t hold hands, but just being close to him as they walked, with their shoulders occasionally touching, was temptation enough.

  When she’d seen him at the bottom stair looking up at her, she’d almost lost her footing. She’d felt a crackle of sexual energy pass between them with every step she took. But that had given her a chance to drink him in, standing there in a pair of low-rise running shorts and a plain white T-shirt. But there was nothing plain about the massive shoulders and broad chest outlined in sharp relief. And the way he filled out those shorts was sinful.

  “Did you get a chance to talk to your parents?” he interrupted her thoughts to ask.

  “Yes, but just to assure them I was okay and to let them know I have a bodyguard now. I’ll call them back later.” She glanced out at the ocean. “It’s so peaceful here. Reminds me of Glendale Shores.”