The Ramseys Boxed Set

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The Ramseys Boxed Set Page 28

by Altonya Washington


  Slowly, Quay followed the line of her gaze. He winced, stunned by the rush of sensation he felt from the simple touch. Brushing his thumb across the pulse point below her wrist, he finally released her.

  Tykira turned and left the restaurant. She ignored her desire to look back, knowing she’d never leave him if she did.

  ~~~

  “We already ordered dessert,” Mick was telling Quay when he returned to the table.

  “Thanks Mick, but um, I can’t stay,” he fixed his date with a soulful remorseful stare. “I’m sorry Lisa, but something came up,” he told her kneeling next to her chair as he spoke. “Would you be too upset with me if I took you home now?”

  Thoroughly charmed by Quay, Lisa was far from upset. “It’s perfectly alright, but I’ll expect a rain check and soon,” she softly requested.

  Quay only nodded, brushing his index finger along the curve of her cheek before he stood. Quest and Mick could only shake their heads at the man’s suave demeanor. Clearly living the last two years like a hermit, hadn’t affected his way with the ladies.

  “Michaela, Quest it was so nice to meet you,” Lisa was saying as Quay helped her from her seat.

  “Oh, same here,” Mick replied, smoothing both hands across her black suede front-split skirt when she stood. She carried on conversation with Lisa, while her husband spoke with his brother.

  “Where is she?” Quay asked.

  “The Sorenson, room seventeen-thirty,” Quest supplied.

  ***

  Ty literally let her hair down when she returned to her suite at the Sorenson. She exchanged the elegant off-shoulder sweater and slacks for more comfortable nighttime apparel of an oversized T-shirt and soft cotton shorts. Settling down in the living area with a bowl of the sinful Italian cookies from Marone’s on the coffee table, she started searching the TV listings for a suitable movie. She was about to turn on the impressive plasma screen when the doorbell rang.

  Munching on a mouthful of the crunchy cookies, Ty grimaced and reluctantly left the sofa. She helped herself to another bite of the treat and was chewing heartily when she flung open the door.

  “Quay!” crumbs sprayed past her lips.

  Having worn a fierce scowl for the better part of the evening, Quay couldn’t help but laugh at the picture she made. Her hair was deliciously tousled, eyes wider than usual, her incredible legs bared by the Broncos T-shirt and short athletic shorts she wore. A pang of emotion struck someplace deep in his stomach and he admitted that he didn’t think he could let her walk away from him this time.

  “What-” she paused to swallow a mouthful of cookie, “what are you doing here?”

  Instead of a verbal reply, Quay took her arm, closed the door and led her inside the suite.

  “I wanted to apologize,” he told her once they’d returned to the living area.

  Ty rolled her eyes and shuffled past him. “For the second time Quay, you don’t owe me any apologies.”

  Quay didn’t hear her. “Mick and Quest invite me to dinner almost every week. It’s sweet and I love ‘em for thinking of me,” his smirk struck the gorgeous right dimple, “but I spend the better part of the night watching them play the ‘newlywed game’ at the table. If you know what I mean,” he added.

  Ty nodded in response to the suggestive remark. “I do,” she pressed her lips together.

  “I had stopped going, but today Mick made a huge deal about me going out with them and telling me how long it’s been. Anyway, that’s why I showed up there with Lisa tonight,” he smoothed a hand across the back of his wavy close cut hair. “It was a last minute thing. I hardly even know her,” he finished and then focused his deep onyx eyes on her face as though waiting for her to utter words of forgiveness.

  Instead, Ty was moved to ask a question. It was a question her powerful warning voice demanded she not ask. Of course, she didn’t listen. “Why are you going to the trouble of telling me all this?”

  “I just don’t want you to think I’d hurt you that way.”

  Ty couldn’t look at him. “You’ve done it before,” she reminded him. With an edge to her voice, she added, “Not that you have to worry about having done that tonight. As much as you seem to love believing that I spend all my time pining for you, I can assure you that isn’t the case.”

  Hearing the words spoken from her lips instead of his brother’s did not fill Quay with anger as they’d done earlier. Instead, he felt sick-sickened by himself and the way he’d treated her all those years ago.

  “Listen Quay, all this is in the past, you know? Let’s not rehash it okay?” Ty shook her head as if trying to rid her mind of past demons.

  Quay watched her take a seat on the sofa and decided to join her. “Why aren’t you staying with Ms. Bobbie?” he asked.

  “She’s on vacation,” Ty scanned the TV listings again, “You know how I hate being alone in that big house,” she added.

  Quay’s chuckle caused his deep-set eyes to crinkle adoringly at the corners. “Yeah, I remember. Damn, how many times did you stay at our house when your mom was working late?”

  “Lots,” Ty replied with a flippant shrug. “Besides, your house was just over the hill. If that wasn’t a convenient babysitter, I don’t know what was,” she didn’t want to remember those happier times though. “Anyway, that’s why I’m here,” she sighed, feeling the way his unwavering gaze focused on her. He made no further comments and his stare never wavered. Ty began to grit her teeth from agitation. Even the delicious cookies she’d been snacking on were starting to leave a sour taste in her mouth.

  “Did you just come here to apologize again?” she finally lost her battle at patience.

  Quay nodded. “I did.”

  “Well I’d say you’ve done that,” Ty decided and stood.

  Quay tried to keep his hands still, but couldn’t. Slowly, his fingers brushed the lush curve of her thigh left bare where the hem of her jersey ended.

  Ty could feel her every nerve ending charting a path toward the most sensitized part of her anatomy. Her lashes fluttered and she lingered close to the touch, savoring the fire igniting there. The simple, barely noticeable caress almost forced a moan to her parted lips.

  “Goodnight, Quay,” she told him suddenly, the danger of remaining close for a second longer had become all too real.

  Standing then, Quay blocked her way. “Not yet,” he asked, his fingers trailing just a fraction higher.

  Ty closed her eyes. “Don’t do this,” she urged hating the pleading tone of her voice. The soft huskiness of her voice made the simple request sound desire-filled and needy.

  Quay lowered his head, his cheek brushing hers as gently as his thumb began to graze the swell of her bottom. “I missed you,” he whispered next to her temple.

  “Mmm, I figured judging from all the calls I’ve gotten over the last fifteen years,” she celebrated the firm tone of her words even as her nipples tensed against the fabric of the jersey. Finally, uttering a quick sound of frustration, she surprised herself and pushed him away. She smiled when the shove she applied to the unyielding wall of his chest caused him to stumble a little. Capitalizing on his momentary imbalance, she sauntered around him and headed for the front of the suite.

  “Get out,” she pulled open the door.

  Quay was slow to comply. Eventually, he rose from his position against the arm of the sofa and moved forward.

  Ty kept her brown gaze averted, knowing he’d never believe she was serious about him leaving if he looked into her eyes. Quay stopped just at the threshold, invading her space once again. He brushed his thumb along the curve of her cheek. The intense dark of his eyes practically smoldered with need. He saw her blink once, twice, three times and knew her feelings were still there; still as powerful as his own and surging just below the surface.

  “I did miss you, Tyke,” he said and then he was gone.

  ***

  After leaving the Sorenson, Quay drove around for a while trying to clear his mind of Tykira Low
ery. God, she was still everything he’d ever wanted. Every woman he’d known since, had barely scratched the surface of coming close to ruling his heart and soul the way she did. He was confident that it would be easy to coax her into bed.

  Flexing his hand around the wheel of the Navigator, he gave a smirk. Coaxing her into bed would be more than easy, it would be damn well satiating as hell. But what would it solve besides a hoard of raging male hormones. He barely managed to conceal his reaction to her- semi hard in her presence and rock hard and throbbing when he was alone with thoughts of her rampaging his senses. No matter how many times he took her, it would do nothing to drive her from his mind, he’d simply want more. No matter how many women he had, it would do nothing to forge Tykira from his thoughts. His quest to find the woman would never end until he had her.

  The long thought-provoking drive eventually led Quay back into the city and to Double Q. The upscale jazz and R&B club/restaurant he’d opened with Quest was growing more successful every month. Seattle-ites and tourists alike made a point of visiting the elite dwelling. As usual, the place was packed with even more waiting outside and hoping for an opportunity to party inside.

  Quay spoke with the security crew who usually collected in the state of the art surveillance booth just off from the club’s entrance. Later, he headed for the bar and took a glass and a bottle of Hennessey to his office nestled far in back. Preparing to dim Tykira’s image from his mind with the power of the dark drink, Quay was already breaking the seal on the bottle as he headed for his desk. It wasn’t long before he discovered he wasn’t the only one who’d sought refuge in the solitude of the paneled office.

  A big grin flashed on Quay’s face when he saw his cousin Yohan. “As I live and breathe, history is being made this night.”

  “Don’t start, man,” a slow, canyon-deep voice rose from the depths of the room.

  Quay wouldn’t be discouraged. “Now wait a minute, wait a minute. A moment like this calls for recognition. It ain’t every day I see the notoriously reclusive, anti-social Yohan Ramsey daring to grace our humble place of biz with his presence.”

  Yohan couldn’t resist his cousin’s contagious humor. A smile brightened his unforgettably gorgeous face as he tilted his glass of Jack Daniels in greeting.”

  “What’s up?” Quay inquired, while shrugging out of the cashmere blazer he’d worn that night. “Somethin’s gotta be goin’ on to bring you out,” he knew his cousin’s preferred choice for an evening escapade was a night of movies at home, listening to music in his library or; if he was feeling especially claustrophobic, high seas fishing.

  Yohan’s dazzling gold Herringbone chain sparkled at his neck when he shrugged. “Just wanted to get out, man.”

  “Mmm hmm, right,” Quay threw back rolling the sleeves of his eggplant shirt above his forearms. “We need to mark this one on the calendars,” he continued to tease. “What’s the date?” he was already heading for the huge wall calendar behind his desk.

  Yohan massaged his temple. “Quay-”

  “Come on, man. What’s the date?”

  “My anniversary.”

  Quay tugged on his bottom lip and winced. Closing his eyes, he uttered a muffled groan. Damn, this was his second screw up of the night. He was rollin’ now, he thought.

  Glass and bottle in hand, Quay took a seat across from Yohan. “Sorry man,” he set his burden to the coffee table.

  “Forget it,” Yohan’s very deep set brown eyes seemed to cloud as they filled with a question. “How long does it take to get over the only woman you ever really gave a damn about?”

  Quay’s long brows rose briefly. Of course, he couldn’t answer the question, since the reply would have been ‘never’. Somehow, he didn’t think that would have done his cousin any good. “Why don’t you give Melina a call,” he suggested instead.

  “And say what, man?” Yohan snapped, the mere mention of his estranged wife’s name stirring his frustration. “What do I say to her, Quay? I miss you?” he probed, his syrupy slow voice holding minute traces of humor. “Does it work, Quay?” he asked, the look on his first cousin’s face was answer enough. “Thought so,” he propped his feet against the coffee table. “Hell Quay what right do I have to say something like that to her after the way I treated her? I got no rights at all after the way I did her.”

  “You still love her, man,” Quay argued in a soft voice. “You still got a right to love her and that gives you the right to change where things stand between y’all.”

  Yohan’s chuckle could chill a spine as quickly as it could incite the need to laugh. “Is that what you tell yourself about Ty, man?”

  Quay shook his head, grinning as he swallowed a bit of his drink. “I’ve never told myself that about Ty, but I think it’s damn time I started.”

  ***

  “My team should be arriving within the next few days and then we’ll be able to get firm ideas down,” Ty shared, during a morning meeting with Quest and the top executives at Ramsey Group. Quay wasn’t there which; in Ty’s opinion made the gathering far more enjoyable.

  “Well, unless anyone has more questions?” Quest stood and posed the question, pausing to leave time to voice questions. “In that case, meeting adjourned,” he said, when the group remained silent. “Ty? Stay as long as you like, I’m headed out,” he called.

  “Thanks!” Ty was already sealing her notes in the chic black leather portfolio she carried.

  Alone in such spectacular surroundings, Ty took the time to stroll around the fantastic office. She’d never had the opportunity to do so before and was determined to give herself the grand tour. Bobbie had often told her daughter that the office was the inanimate replica of its owners: dark, overpowering and then some. Tykira was studying a painting above the gas fireplace, when the elevator doors opened.

  “Quest?” Ty heard someone move about in another part of the office.

  ~~~

  Quay stilled, having retrieved a stack of mail from his desk. After last night, he figured it was best that he not attend the meeting that morning. He hadn’t planned on Ty still being there, but no way was he about to complain. Tossing the mail aside, he followed the sound of her voice.

  Tykira left the painting and went to say her goodbyes to Quest. Her steps slowed and then drew to a complete halt when she spied the man in the doorway.

  It wasn’t the olive plaid suit coat he wore over a coordinating gray black shirt and no tie that made him appear such a force, it was his stance. Quay’s demeanor always struck her as silk sheathing a sword. It was as though he were ready for confrontation, always on guard in spite of the easy aura that followed him like mist. Unconsciously, she took a step backward.

  “Looks like I missed the meeting,” he noted.

  Ty glanced down at her black suede boots and smiled. “I get the feeling you planned it that way,” she challenged softly.

  Quay nodded, easing one hand inside his trouser pockets. “Considering the way you high-tailed it out of the Sorenson...I figured my presence here would be the last thing you’d want. I didn’t know you’d still be here.”

  Ty cleared her throat at his mention of her sudden hotel check out and return to her mother’s way-too empty house. She tucked the portfolio beneath her arm. “That’s about to change, “ she said.

  “Tyke,” he called, smoothly hindering her progress to the door.

  Just as smoothly, Ty evaded his grasp. “What do you want, Quay?”

  He didn’t mean to allow his desire to flash so quickly, but he couldn’t help it. She was like a drug he’d only sampled once and was dying to try again. His thoughts were almost totally centered on what it would be like to have her now.

  “Incredible,” Ty breathed, her lovely doe eyes narrowing with disbelief. “You have no real feelings at all where I’m concerned, do you? It’s just like yesterday to you, isn’t it? The way you treated me so long ago?”

  “Could you accept an apology based on the fact that it was so long ago?” he st
epped forward, his dark gaze studying her face.

  “The things you said at the reception, weren’t so long ago.”

  Quay winced as though she’d slapped him. “I can’t believe you remember that,” dry humor laced the revelation.

  Ty’s lashes fluttered. “I remember everything,” she refused to break eye contact. By then, Quay was standing right before her. She had dressed for business, stylish and impeccable in the straight, front split skirt and matching button blazer. Still, the familiar feeling of being diminutive and sweetly feminine and powerfully aroused all swirled together.

  Quay’s piercing black eyes studied hers as though he could read her mind and knew how he affected her.

  “You remember everything, hmmm?” he taunted, simultaneously tugging her close and taking her mouth in a throaty kiss.

  Ty couldn’t think to resist, only to curl her fingers weakly around the lapels of his jacket.

  “Quay,” she moaned when the kiss broke for a split second. She needed him more in this way- this basic way- that he could ever know. Moaning again, she began to mimic the motions of his tongue. She thrust hers deeply into his mouth and trembled when he groaned in response.

  Their bodies were a perfect fit; always had been. The kiss was like heaven. His hands roamed her body, skirting her hips and then traveling upward to mold her torso beneath the snug blazer. He touched her with the patience of a skilled, giving lover who possessed the power to make her swoon, gasp and beg for fulfilment.

  This was the man, Ty thought crying out softly when his big hands cupped her breasts. He was the only man she’d ever felt even remotely compelled to give herself to. For her there was no other, she admitted feeling his fingers slipping inside the front of her blazer to stroke the lush cleavage bubbling over the top of the lace camisole she wore.

  The realization chilled her suddenly. No, for her, there had been no other. Sadly, he didn’t feel the same. Worse, he never had.

 

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