Private Passions

by Rochelle Alers

  Curbing an urge to pull her to his body, he concentrated on placing one foot in front of the other. “What made you change your mind?”

  “It was probably what you said to me the night Bettina was shot. About you being my whore. I feel the same way, Chris. We sneak around and meet in hideaway places to make love. You’re a thirty-five-year-old man and I’m a thirty-one-year-old woman. We’re both too old for that type of behavior. I married you because I love you. And even if we decide not to go public until after the election, I still want our families to know that we’re married. What if I’m pregnant? What—”

  “Are you?” he asked, interrupting her.

  She shook her head. “I don’t know, I was due two days ago.”

  Stopping, he turned and stared down at her. The rays of the sun caressed her flawless brown skin and brilliant eyes. Never had he seen her more lush than she appeared at that moment. It was as if she had turned on an inner light that shimmered and radiated her feminine sensuality.

  “Will you let me know—one way or the other?”

  She smiled. “Of course.”

  “When are you going to tell your parents?”

  “I’m going to call them when we get back to the house.” The two-hour time difference would make it nine o’clock in Florida.

  “What about my folks?”

  Moving closer, she pressed her breasts against his sweatshirt-covered chest. “You tell yours.”

  Gathering her to his chest, Chris lowered his head and kissed the side of her neck. “Thank you, Emelia. You’ve just given me what I need to make it to November.”

  She shivered slightly when her mind registered his cryptic statement. Had he considered dropping out of the race? Had he been willing to give up all he’d sought since he’d graduated from law school because of her?

  “I love you, Christopher Blackwell Delgado-Quintero.’

  “And I you, Emelia Delgado-Quintero,” he whispered seconds before he moved his mouth over her waiting lips.

  They retraced their steps to the ranch house, Emily retreating to Matthew Sterling’s office, while her husband made his way to his parents’ bedroom. Both felt as if they’d shed a heavy burden. The love and support of their families would make it easier for them to conceal their private passions until after the election.

  Chapter 30

  Emily dialed the area code, then the number of her parents’ Palm Beach residence. There was a break in the connection after the third ring.

  “Hello?” The strong, powerful voice of her father came through the receiver.

  “Hi, Daddy.”

  “Happy birthday, baby girl.”

  She froze, her response locked in her throat. It was the first time she realized her father and husband used the same endearment for her.

  “Emily? Are you still there?”

  “Yes. Thanks, Daddy. How’s Mom doing?”

  “She’s still coughing. But it doesn’t sound as deep as it was a couple of days ago.”

  “I’m calling you because I need to tell you something.” This time there was no response from her father. “Daddy?”

  “I’m here,” Joshua Kirkland replied.

  “Please put Mom on the extension. This is something I want both of you to hear at the same time.”

  “What the hell is going on, Emily?”

  “Get my mother, please!” Biting down hard on her lower lip, she realized she’d just shouted at her father. “Don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be, Daddy,” she continued, this time in a softer tone.

  “Hold on.”

  Closing her eyes, Emily heard the runaway beating of her heart in her ears. She had to tell them. At 12:01 a.m. she’d turned thirty-one, and she was about to claim complete independence from her parents, even though she’d been living on her own since her senior year in college.

  “What’s the matter, Emily?”

  She didn’t recognize Vanessa Blanchard-Kirkland’s raspy voice. “How are you feeling?”

  “Much better than I did last week. I was going to call you later. Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  “Your father said you have something to tell us.”

  Inhaling deeply, Emily let out her breath slowly. “I do. I want you to know that I’m married.” A chorus of gasps rippled through the wire. “Chris Delgado and I were married in Mexico on January tenth.”

  “Why did you wait this long to tell us, Emily?” Joshua was the first to respond to her startling announcement.

  “Chris and I promised each other that we wouldn’t tell anyone until after the election. We thought it best since I was covering William Savoy’s campaign. Then, of course, everything changed when I reported the shooting death of Bettina Gibson.”

  “I can’t believe you cheated me out of giving you a wedding,” Vanessa said, her voice breaking before she lapsed into a hacking cough.

  “Where’s Christopher?” Joshua asked. His voice had taken on an authoritative edge.

  “He’s with his parents, telling them what I’m telling you.”

  “This is wonderful news, isn’t it, darling?” Vanessa crooned into the receiver.

  There was a pregnant pause before Joshua spoke. “Yes, it is. This marriage will link the Kirklands, Coles and Sterlings forever. Congratulations, baby girl.”

  Emily felt her eyes fill with hot tears. “Thank you, Daddy.”

  “We have to celebrate,” Vanessa said quickly. “When do you think you and Chris can come to Florida for a little gathering? David is throwing something next weekend for Gabriel winning his three Grammys. Maybe we can combine the two.”

  Emily wiped away her tears of joy with her fingertips. “I’ll ask Chris if he can get away. Arrange for me to be picked up Friday night in Albuquerque. And don’t forget to call Michael.” She wanted her brother with her when she shared her joy with her other family members.

  “Joshua, have Martin or Parris call Regina, Aaron and their kids,” Vanessa told her husband on the extension.

  “I will,” he promised.

  “Thanks, guys,” Emily said softly. “You’re the best.”

  Her father’s deep laughter came through the receiver—and it wasn’t often that anyone heard Joshua Kirkland laugh. “Thanks. We’re proud of you, baby girl. And tell that son-in-law of mine that we’re proud of him, too.”

  “Let Eve know that I’m going to call her later,” Vanessa said, her voice filling with rising excitement. “She, Serena and I need to talk about how we want to go about this.”

  “Mom, Daddy, you’ve just given me the best birthday present I’ve ever had.”

  “What’s that?” the elder Kirklands chorused in unison.

  “Your love and support. I’m going to hang up now before I start bawling my eyes out. I’ll talk to you again before next weekend.”

  She rang off, replaced the phone on its cradle, then sat for a few minutes staring at the wall. She was free—freer than she had ever been in all her life.

  Feeling a presence behind her, she turned to find Chris in the doorway. Lowering his chin, he gave her a sidelong glance before his mouth curved into a grin.

  She arched her sweeping black eyebrows. “Well?”

  “Mom had a few choice words about us sneaking behind her back before she burst into tears.”

  Emily stood up. “Aunt Eve’s crying?” The running joke was that beautiful, elegant Eve Blackwell-Sterling was as tough as they come and only resorted to tears when enraged. “She’s angry with us?”

  Shaking his head, Chris walked into the room and pulled his wife into a protective embrace. “No, baby. She’s deliriously happy.”

  “What about your father?”

&nb
sp; “He was a little smug when he said he’s been waiting a long time for the Sterlings, Kirklands and Coles to become one family.”

  “That’s what my father said. David and Serena are putting together a celebratory gathering for Gabriel next weekend. My mother would like us to be there. She says because everyone is coming they all can celebrate our marriage at the same time. How’s your schedule for next weekend?”

  He kissed the tip of her nose. “Whatever I have scheduled can wait. I’ll meet you in Florida.”

  Curving her arms around his neck, she pressed closer and kissed him. She wasn’t disappointed when he tightened his hold on her waist, communicating silently how much he loved her.

  March 5

  Palm Beach

  The six passengers aboard the 1998 GIV Gulfstream readied themselves for landing as the aircraft began its descent over the Palm Beach International Airport.

  Arrangements had been made for Matthew and Eve Sterling to share Joshua and Vanessa’s two-bedroom condominium in Palm Beach, while Emily, Sara, Salem and Isaiah would have their own bedrooms at the Cole mansion in West Palm Beach.

  Martin and Parris Cole now claimed two residences—the West Palm Beach mansion and their beachfront home in Fort Lauderdale. All their children had left home: Regina lived in Brazil with her husband and children, Dr. Tyler Cole resided in Georgia because of his work with the Atlanta-based Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, while thirty-two-year-old Arianna Cole had moved to Paris to live with her Moroccan-born dress-designer boyfriend. Arianna had called Florida the moment she heard of her cousin’s musical achievement, telling everyone she would return to the States for Gabriel’s party.

  David and Serena Cole had secured ground transportation for everyone to their Boca Raton home for a noon cookout on Saturday.

  Emily glanced out the large oval window, staring at the sparkling lights over the opulent Florida city. She’d spent most of the flight on a sofa that folded out into a bed, refusing anything to eat. She managed to swallow a glass of seltzer with a sliver of lemon, but it failed to relieve what she’d first thought were premenstrual cramps.

  You’re feeling queasy because you’re pregnant, a little voice whispered in her head. She was a week late. Since she’d begun menstruating, her menses had arrived every twenty-six days of every month of every year.

  The diamonds on her left hand winked at her under a halogen reading light. The day the Lassiters, Sterlings, Marisa Hall and Joseph Russell gathered to celebrate her thirty-first birthday and the news that she and Chris were married, she’d given him the ring to slip on to her finger for a second time.

  Salem returned from the cockpit to sit beside his wife. As a licensed pilot, he was enthralled with the private jet, which boasted 6,500 miles. That was enough for a nonstop 14-hour flight from New York to Tokyo. The aircraft had a forty-foot cabin that was configured for eleven to thirteen passengers, with sofas that folded out into beds, a full galley and rest rooms.

  Emily turned her head, watching as Matt pressed a button on a remote, turning off one of two flat-screen televisions. Reaching for his wife’s hand, he squeezed her fingers gently. If her suspicions were right, then the Sterlings would have another grandchild before the end of the year.

  The nighttime temperature was in the low fifties when the New Mexican residents stepped out onto the tarmac on a private airfield at the Palm Beach Airport.

  Two Mercedes-Benz limousines were positioned on the other side of a fence. The rear door to one of the limos opened and the platinum head of Joshua Kirkland appeared under the lights.

  Emily waved to her father, temporarily forgetting about her unsettled stomach. He returned her wave, quickening his long strides. Moments later she found herself in his arms.

  “How was your flight?”

  She kissed his smooth cheek. “It was good.”

  His pale gaze examined her face. “How are you?”

  Shaking her head, she decided not to lie to her father. She had deceived him and her mother enough these past few months. “I’m not sure.”

  “What’s the matter?”

  “I think I’m pregnant.”

  Joshua went completely still. He stared at her, unblinking. “You haven’t been to a doctor?”

  She shook her head again. “Not yet. I’m only a week overdue, Daddy.”

  Tightening his hold around her waist, he kissed her forehead. “It’s okay, baby girl. Tyler’s coming in tomorrow morning, and Aaron’s already here. One of them can look at you.”

  “I’m not going to let them examine me.”

  “Why not? They’re doctors.”

  “They’re my cousins.”

  “So?”

  “So? They’re family. I’d feel uncomfortable having them look at me.”

  “Why don’t you have Parris or Serena call their doctors for an appointment?”

  “Okay,” she conceded.

  Joshua released his daughter and extended his arms to Matt Sterling. The two gave each other a warm embrace. “Welcome to the family.”

  Matt patted Joshua’s back. “It’s the Sterlings who are welcoming the Kirklands and the Coles.”

  “Sorry, buddy. It’s the girl’s family who gives the wedding. Therefore, we welcome you.”

  “I’m older than you by a year,” Matt rationalized, “therefore I do the welcoming.”

  Eve shook her head. “Why don’t you two give it up?” Her voice was filled with repressed laughter. “The older you get the sillier you become. All that matters is that our children are married.” She glanced around her. “Where’s Vanessa?”

  Leaning down, Joshua kissed Eve’s cheek. “She’s home waiting for you.”

  Eve kissed Emily, Sara, Salem and a sleeping Isaiah. “I’ll see you all tomorrow at David’s.”

  She walked to one car with her husband and Joshua, while Emily and the Lassiters climbed into the other. The luxury automobiles left the airport, cruising smoothly in a northwest direction to West Palm Beach.

  Martin and Parris were at the house when they arrived, both smiling when they saw their niece and her in-laws. Martin kissed Emily on both cheeks. He cradled her to his side as he greeted Salem Lassiter’s family. A network of fine lines fanned out around his large black eyes as he flashed a dimpled smile.

  “Welcome to Florida and to the family. I’m glad that this time we can all come together for a more festive occasion.”

  Parris Cole reached for Isaiah, taking him gently from his father’s arms. “Come with me and I’ll show you where he’ll sleep. It’s been a long time since there’s been a baby in this house.”

  “Where are Regina and the others, Aunt Parris?” Emily asked.

  “They all went out to a movie. They claim they miss American movies. They’ll probably be in before midnight.”

  The driver brought in the luggage, taking the bags to the assigned rooms. He conferred with Martin Cole, who confirmed the time for his return the following day.

  Emily climbed the curving staircase to the second-floor bedroom suites and walked into the bedroom where she’d slept many times before. She managed to brush her teeth and wash her face. Then she climbed onto the bed, fully dressed and fell asleep.

  Chapter 31

  March 6

  Boca Raton

  Temperatures had climbed to the low eighties by the time most of the Coles, Kirklands, Sterlings and the various members of Gabriel Cole’s band assembled at David and Serena’s seaside home.

  At sixty-three, David Cole was still breathtakingly handsome. A faint scar along the left side of his face, running from the spheroid bone to mid-cheek, failed to minimize his masculine beauty. His silver hair was short and lay against his scalp, while tiny diamond studs sparkled in his lobes. He’d had his rig
ht lobe pierced for his sixtieth birthday, declaring that it was the last impulsive act of an aging musician.

  He and his wife, Serena, a former nurse, had four children. Gabriel had followed in his father’s footsteps, becoming a musician, while his nineteen-year-old twin sister and brother, Ana and Jason, were completing their first year of college. At twenty-four, Alexandra was close to completing her graduate work as a historical architect. Ana and Jason had elected to attend a local college because they couldn’t bear separating from one another. All of David and Serena’s children had inherited the characteristic Cole dimples, and their mother’s mesmerizing golden brown eyes. The boys claimed their father’s height, the girls their mother’s diminutive stature.

  Emily spied her uncle as he directed a few of the members in his son’s band in setting up their equipment on the patio, overlooking a heated pool. She waited until he turned in her direction, then she smiled at him.

  Closing the distance between them with long, fluid strides, David Cole swept his niece up in his arms, lifting her off her feet. “Congratulations, Emily.” He kissed her soundly on her mouth.

  Curving her arms around his neck, she hugged him. “Thanks. Congratulations to you, too, for winning a Grammy. How many do you have now?”

  He set her gently on her feet. “Three.” David and his former band, Night Mood, had earned several awards when he played percussion in his mid-twenties. He glanced at his watch. “Your husband should be arriving at any minute. His plane touched down around eleven-thirty.”

  She smiled. Your husband. It was the first time anyone had referred to Chris that way. “Where’s Serena?”

  “She’s in the house, barking orders like a drill sergeant.”

  “Who’s a sergeant?” asked a familiar deep voice.

  Emily turned to find her brother Michael standing behind her. His brilliant green eyes were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. Even though he wore a pair of black linen slacks with a matching shirt and Italian-style loafers, he still looked like a soldier. His posture was ramrod straight.

  “I’ll see you kids later,” David said, returning to the house to see if his wife needed his assistance.