The Ramseys Boxed Set

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The Ramseys Boxed Set Page 49

by Altonya Washington


  “Well, what wrong here? Why are you telling me to stop?” he looked longingly at her breasts as if she’d hurt his feelings.

  “Actually baby, I was hoping you could tell me?”

  “Huh?”

  Ty looked up at the gorgeous late afternoon sky and braced herself. “Well… it’s just that you haven’t called anyone in Washington or even checked in on the business.”

  “I talked to Q a week ago. Everything’s fine.”

  “But you don’t want to see for yourself?”

  Quay braced his hands on the pool on either side of Ty. “You did say you were having a good time, right?”

  “Just how long do you plan to hide out down here?” she challenged, her brows rising when Quay appeared stunned. “I can practically see your mood changing before my eyes even when I just vaguely mention Seattle. I want to know what’s wrong with you.”

  The muscle in Quay’s jaw danced wickedly as the rest of his features tightened. “You should know,” he grumbled while splashing out of the pool.

  Ty wasted no time following him back into the suite. “Would you mind clarifying that?”

  “If we go back, I’m liable to break some necks, Ty. That clear enough for you?”

  “Oh,” she was barely able to swallow past the sudden lump lodged in her throat. “Houston’s neck I take it?”

  “And that bastard, Marcus.”

  Ty slipped into a white cotton robe and watched Quay pour himself a stiff drink from the bar. “Is it that bad?” she asked.

  “It’s that bad,” Quay muttered, “when we aren’t...together, torturing those jackasses is all I think about. Wait,” he urged, when she opened her mouth to speak, “if you’re about to tell me to let it go, I’m sorry. That ain’t gonna happen unless I stay as far away from Seattle as possible.”

  Ty shook off the coldness that was brushing her skin and put on a teasing smile while heading toward the bar. “The last thing I want to do is share you with anyone,” she murmured against his ear and linked her arms around his waist. She took away his glass when he turned in her arms, before pressing soft, wet pecks to his chest and jaw. “Now, where were we?” she asked.

  ~~~

  Seattle, Washington

  Josephine Ramsey opened the door to her bathroom suite just an inch and assessed the bedroom to see if it was empty. Pushing open the door a bit wider, she took a better look and saw that Marcus had gone. Sighing her relief and delight, she left the bath. Lovely as it was, she was sick of spending the better part of an hour there waiting for her husband to leave for the day.

  If only I had strength enough to leave him, she thought. All she had to do was pack and go. There were no small boys running around to wrangle and prepare for a trip to an unknown destination. She answered to no one but herself.

  However, Josephine knew that for all her hatred and disgust for her husband, she’d not leave. Not now, not ever. Even though her sons had pretty much begged her to leave their own father in the dust, she knew she wouldn’t. Did she love him that much? No, but she loved her life, her home. In short, she loved being Mrs. Marcus Ramsey. Sure, she could have such a lifestyle away from him. Sadly, she’d grown accustomed to the label and the respect it garnered. She honestly didn’t know who Josephine Simon was anymore. She didn’t know how to live without the label. She didn’t know how to live without being attached to a man.

  Clearly, it didn’t matter what sort of man he was. The realizations about Houston and that he’d confided to Marcus about killing Sera...Marc not only kept those horrors a secret, but went so far as to arrange the disappearance of evidence and possibly assist in his brother’s escape when he knew…

  Josephine shook her head, not wanting to think about the rest. Houston had done more than have an affair with his daughter’s best friend. He’d murdered her and that was only half the story.

  Again, Josephine shook her head, sending locks of her bobbed cut into her face. She would go mad- well, more mad than she was already, if she didn’t stop replaying this in her mind. For years, it had rested on her heart- lying dormant amidst a wealth of other horrors. Then, the case resurfaced, Houston’s deeds were reborn and it was only a matter of time before the rest of the tale was revealed.

  ~~~

  “This was totally unnecessary, you know? I could’ve easily gotten myself home,” County told Fernando as they entered her exquisite condo in Library Tower.

  “I don’t know what possessed you to leave your truck at home and take the train in the first place,” Fernando grumbled unbuttoning the black leather trench he wore.

  County tossed her coat to a nearby armchair. “First of all, I unlike you, am not chauffeured to work on the regular. Second, fighting rush hour traffic in Chicago ain’t my idea of fun.” She brushed nonexistent lint from her skirt. “Besides, winter just came too fast this year.”

  “Yeah January...what was old man winter thinking?” Fernando teased, earning a sour look from County in return.

  “Careful Ramsey,” she warned.

  Her use of his last name again caused Fernando’s gaze to narrow. He’d never cared for it, but hearing her say it… Damn, could this woman do anything to disinterest him?

  “Well, thank you for the ride,” County cleared her throat when she noticed the steadiness of his gaze.

  He smiled and glanced briefly towards the carpet. “Are you asking me to leave?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then do it and stop beating around the bush. That’s not like you.”

  Contessa almost smiled. He was right, of course. But this man- this incredible giant of a man was causing her silk over steel demeanor to slowly, noticeably erode.

  “Get out,” she said, since he’d closed the distance between them.

  “That’s more like it,” he said with a wolfish grin.

  “Then do it,” County whispered and turned away.

  Instead, Fernando followed her into the living room admiring the asymmetrical cut of the tweed skirt she wore. “What time should I pick you up tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow?” County asked, her confusion evident.

  “Damn, you’ve already forgotten my offer to show you my life’s work,” he said, pretending to be offended.

  “Ah,” she gestured with a quick wave and roll of her eyes. “Please don’t bother with that. I believe you. I believed you all along,” she told him, leaning against the arm of a chocolate suede sofa. “You look like a man who enjoys dabbling in lots of different interests.”

  Fernando eased his hands inside his trouser pockets. “Complimenting me again?” he inquired.

  “Can’t you tell?”

  Fernando only smirked his uncertainty. “I still want you to see the magazines.”

  “We’re just so busy at the House right now and it’s very hard for me to get away.”

  “You’re the boss.”

  “Precisely why I have to be there.”

  “Even the boss deserves time away from her desk.”

  “Dammit Ramsey, why is this so important to you?”

  “Because I want to spend more time with you,” he admitted simply.

  “Why?” She leaned back to get a better look at him. “Do you think it’ll lead to something?”

  He moved closer. “I think we’re past that.”

  “You’re right. We are and we won’t ever pass that again,” she sweetly promised.

  Pulling his hands from his pockets, Fernando braced them on either side of her. “You really believe you’ll never sleep with me again?”

  County felt her heart doing crazy things and ordered her lashes not to do the same. “I really believe that,” she scanned his eyes, the slope of his nose, wide mouth and the lightly bearded square jaw.

  Fernando seemed to consider her words before standing straight. “I guess I can buy that. After all, we didn’t get much sleep then, did we?”

  County moved off the arm of the chair. Her cheeks burned as images of them together flashed before her eyes. The thin
gs he did to her, the things they did to each other. She thought about it every day. Pleasure swirled through her at the mere memory of the delights she’d experienced. “What we did was a mistake- careless and immature. You must think I’m some sort of-”

  “Stop,” he ordered then, his voice brooking no argument. “Don’t do that. I won’t let you do that.”

  County raked shaking fingers across her dark cropped hair and turned. “Good night Ramsey,” she sang, preparing to head for the door.

  He blocked her path, his size easily allowing him to do so.

  Resist him, resist him, she focused on the breadth of his chest as she dared not to look him in the eyes. Her lips parted when his hand settled to the curve of her hip. The massive expanse of his palm massaged her there before angling around the generous swell of her bottom. She moaned when one light tug brought her into his incredible frame. A tiny hiss of a curse rose from her tongue as a wealth of sensation flooded her senses.

  For several torturous moments, Fernando cupped her derriere, squeezing and grinding her into the powerful stiffness below his waist. His lips brushed her brow, temple and the line of her cheek. Choosing to forget her resistance, Contessa sought his mouth with her own. His tongue thrust hot and masterfully and she welcomed the power of the act. Whimpering amidst the passionate lunges inside her mouth, County’s fingers curved weakly into his unyielding chest. When his tongue stroked the roof of her mouth and a low growl rose in his throat, she felt her legs weaken. Fernando held her high to prevent her from slipping to the floor. His kiss was deep and branding-possession personified.

  County scarcely noticed that he’d carried her with him to the front door. Her fingers were buried in the beautiful silk of his curly dark brown hair and she relished the power lying untapped within his magnificent frame.

  “No going to that office of yours tomorrow. I’ll be here by nine a.m.,” he said.

  “Okay,” she sounded every bit the obedient little girl while arching closer for just another taste of him.

  Fernando obliged, plying her with a few more sultry probes of his persuasive tongue. County’s eagerness and helpless murmurs into his mouth were almost his undoing, but he managed to ease away and set her to her feet.

  “Good night,” he brushed a smudge of lipstick from her cheek before he walked out the door.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “You look surprised, Ramsey,” County said at ten minutes past nine when she opened her door to Fernando.

  “I expected you to be gone,” he admitted, admiring the black cotton that emphasized the alluring fullness of her bosom.

  Contessa stepped aside, waving him before her. “Now why would I do something like that?”

  Fernando shrugged, pulling off the hunter green bomber jacket he wore over a sweater of the same color. “I figured you might be afraid to spend time with me.”

  “Ah, because you think I’m afraid of how you affect me?” County inquired, rubbing her hands across the long sleeves that hugged her wrists.

  Fernando came to tower over her. “That’s right,” he confirmed.

  And it was true, yet County managed to maintain her cool. “We should eat first. You haven’t had breakfast yet, have you?”

  Fernando followed as she hurried towards the living room. “Where would you like to go?”

  “Here.”

  Surprised, Fernando couldn’t help but smile when he noticed the table arranged near the fireplace. “How thoughtful of you to order in.”

  County cast a tired glance across her shoulder. “Funny,” she sighed, “I cooked.”

  “You cooked for me?” He crossed his arms over his chest.

  “I cooked for us,” she fixed him with a curious look. “Did I catch you off guard or something?”

  “You strike me as the type of woman who’d frown on anything domestic,” he confessed, watching as she moved around making last minute adjustments to the table setting. Silently, he noted that she was always seductively impeccable- nails, hair, even her face, void of makeup that morning was perfect. A natural beauty, he decided, loving the way the black jeans molded to her curvaceous bottom.

  “Growing up the way I did makes it impossible for me to be anything other than domestic, no matter how hard I try to run away from it.”

  The insight into her background intrigued Fernando and he sat on the back of the sofa to watch her. “So you’ve tried to run away from it?” he asked.

  County uncovered the turkey bacon and shrugged. “A time or two.”

  “And?”

  “You can never run away from who you really are,” she said in a refreshing tone as though it were something she’d discovered after much searching.

  Fernando grinned and Contessa found that she was captivated by the sound of the chuckle that dwelled within his chest. She watched him leave the sofa and come towards her. His steps were slow, purposeful and unwavering, she realized. His walk was a clear example of who he was; patient, determined and unrelenting. He wanted her and no matter how she tried to dismiss it- he wanted something beyond the physical. Beautiful, but was she ready for that? Was she ready for that from this clearly charismatic, clearly dangerous man?

  He stopped before her, one massive hand rising to cup her chin. “You say you can never run away from who you really are?” his thumb smoothed across the lush curve of her lips.

  “That’s right,” she said, a slow tremble rising within her.

  “I’d have to disagree. It can definitely be done given enough time and emotional distance.”

  He believed that so desperately, County thought, taking note of the increased strength in his voice when he uttered the words. She hadn’t the heart to tell him he was wrong. She knew he needed to believe that he could actually be rid of his heritage in spite of the fact that it was bred within him.

  “Well,” she sighed, squeezing his hand until it lowered from her face. “I hope you like what I have.”

  Again, Fernando’s translucent browns raked her hourglass frame and he could only shake his head in admiration.

  ~~~

  “You really can cook,” Fernando complimented later when their breakfast was nearing completion.

  “I’m glad you’re pleased,” County said with a smile brightening her oval face. He had no idea how deeply his words had delighted her.

  Fernando dropped his napkin to the table and had the look of a completely satisfied man. “I expected to see a box of microwave blueberry pancakes and a bag of frozen hash browns. Not a mixing bowl and flour where you’d made the pancakes from scratch or real Idaho potatoes you’d cut up for the browns.”

  County laughed at his surprise. “I assure you that I take advantage of the shortcuts quite often.”

  “But what impresses me is you don’t need to.”

  Okay, his flattery and admiration were really pleasing her. Still, she didn’t want to read any more into the moment. Then why’d you cook for him, fool? she berated herself before dismissing her unease.

  “I hardly ever cook except when I take a day off for myself,” she explained.

  Fernando’s long brows rose. “So you won’t be going in today?”

  “I had no idea how long it’d take for you to impress me so to be on the safe side…”

  “Right, right…” he drawled, taking part in her teasing. “Well, since it’ll probably take me a while, we should go on and head out.”

  County was already pushing her chair away from the table. “Sounds good,” she decided, collecting plates and silverware to take to the kitchen.

  Together, they cleared the table, putting dishes in the washer and returning other items to the fridge and cupboards. All the time, they were in awe of how easy the silence was between them. In spite of the very huge thing that had happened between them a few weeks earlier and whatever was going on between them now, they were comfortable with one another. For two people who’d spent the better part of their lives putting on fronts and masks to show how cool and unfazed they were, what the
y both craved was to find someone to shed the mask for.

  ~~~

  Mick brushed away a heavy curl that had fallen into her face as she stood before the long spotlight mirror in the bathroom. There, she performed her daily ritual of inspecting her body for the tiniest changes. There was no doubting her pregnancy now- even though everyone else had said she was carrying the baby well and really wasn’t showing much. Even her doctor wanted her to eat and put on more pounds.

  Still, Mick could see the changes. Her amber gaze was soft as it roamed her belly the way her hands did. Will I do right by you, little baby? I pray you won’t be disappointed.

  The bathroom’s white oak door opened a tad wider and Quest stuck his head inside. “You alright?” he inquired, smiling as his gray eyes raked her dark body.

  “Dammit Quest,” Mick hissed the moment she heard her husband’s voice. Reaching for a bath sheet, she covered herself quickly. “Do you always have to just barge in like that?”

  Curious, Quest stepped farther into the bathroom. “Since when do you wear a towel around me?” He asked, folding his arms across his chest while he leaned against the doorframe. “Unless you’re tryin’ to tease me?” he asked hopefully.

  “Ha! With this body?” she snapped and turned away. “Not exactly what you’re used to seeing,” she grumbled.

  “Damn right,” he breathed.

  Mick’s face reflected hurt when she whirled around to face him. “Thanks,” she hissed, trying to move past him.

  Quest caught her easily and pulled her with him where he made her lean against the counter. “You’re right, you’ve changed,” he confirmed, smiling when her lashes fluttered and she looked away. He tugged on her arms until she looked at him again. “Your body’s even

  more-”

  “Fat.”

  “Phenomenal,” he corrected, his left dimpled grin appearing when he saw surprise reflected on her face.

  Mick’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t make jokes Quest. Not now.”

 

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