Dance of Deception

by Trish Reeb

  A book on the table next to the sofa caught his eye in the otherwise bare bones room. He picked it up in a gloved hand and read the front cover, Art of War by Sun Tzu. He leafed through the pages and replaced it in its original position next to the lamp connected to an automatic timer. His gaze roamed the room. Alex had disappeared again. A door closed followed by the clunk of a seat. Cole wandered to the back of the house.

  The full size bed and dresser filling most of the space in the largest bedroom were of good quality. He opened the closet. Long tees and jeans hung neatly from hangers. In the second bedroom, several futons covered a good portion of the space. Nothing else. He opened the door to the closet. Empty. Where did the uncle sleep? Had River been emancipated? That didn’t fit, considering Ms. Winter just spoke to the uncle yesterday before the interview. Did he live in the basement? Some folks finished them off like apartments. Cole started for the stairs.

  The toilet flushed.

  He detoured to the living room.

  A few beats later, Alex joined him, her face flushed. She sidled over to him holding the bottle tight to her chest, eyes lit. "Man, you’re hot." She put a hand around the back of his neck, her lips puckered.

  Cole stared into her eyes. Not dilated, she couldn't be intoxicated. Something else seemed to be going on. "Let me see that fruit punch." He grabbed the bottle from her, eyeing the swallow left at the bottom. She’d sucked it down in less time than it took to recite the Miranda rights. He sniffed the neck of the bottle. No booze mentioned on the content label, yet it smelled faintly of rum. She wouldn’t have drunk it if the seal had been broken, would she? He shook his head. With Alex, one never knew. "Where's the top to this?" He wrapped the bottle in his handkerchief and shoved it into the pocket of his coat.

  Alex grasped his hand and placed it on her hip. Slowly, she guided it to her nicely rounded ass.

  Oh, Lord. He reclaimed the use of his hand.

  She dropped her full length coat to the floor and unfastened a button on her blouse.

  "Whoa there, girl." He pulled off his gloves. His large fingers fumbled as he attempted to refasten the tiny buttons. She unbuttoned two to his one. Losing the race, he tried harder which only caused him to grapple more with the damn things. Before he could catch up, she had the green blouse and black pants off, leaving only her black underwear.

  This is ridiculous. What the hell had been in that drink?

  Alex reached behind her back to . . . .

  Oh, no you don’t. Cole draped her coat around her, strapping it on backwards with his belt. He grabbed Alex’s clothes and slung her over his shoulder.

  She wiggled her legs. "Put me down."

  "We’re getting out of here." He bolted through the house, locked the door, and replaced the key in the milkshoot.

  Too bad he didn’t own a muzzle because, by the time they reached the car, the mental visions perpetrated by her body language and X-rated talk had had their desired effect.

  CHAPTER 39

  After Cole arranged for a rookie to pick up Alex’s SUV and drive it to her condo, they headed to Darrel’s. If anyone could analyze the fruit punch that transformed her into playmate of the night, his friend could. A self-taught chemist, he had a laboratory in the basement and had been conducting experiments since the age of six.

  At the moment, Alex wriggled her behind on the seat. No need to ponder why, because she’d already told him a dozen times how it helped to salve her throbbing so-and-so. That if he would only free her she could . . . more adult bookstore talk. In her condition, she'd become every man’s dream. Plenty would take advantage of the situation. Truthfully, before he’d met Desiree, he might have, too. His wife opened his eyes and now there was no going back to the old him. Cole hoped Darrel could break down the composition of the small amount of liquid he managed to salvage.

  She’s awfully quiet. His eyes left the road to glance over at her trying to break out of the straight jacket. He hoped she hadn't been blessed with Houdini’s gift. His other option, the trunk, could protect them from dire consequences. Not quite that desperate yet, but if she managed to escape . . . .

  By the time they arrived at Darrel’s, he had no regrets about not giving in to his male libido. But he did regret not nipping the whole thing in the bud before it spun out of control. Like, not letting her out of his sight, or forcing her to leave when he found her inside McGerald's house. Yanking the bottle away from her might've been a good idea. Hey, what about not even going over there in the first place? He could've put the brakes on any number of times, but hadn’t. What bothered him was why. Why hadn’t he? The truth? She did remind him of Desi—fun loving, adventurous, a risk taker. But the real reason, to be honest, he felt alive for the first time since Desi died.

  Something besides rum had been added to the fruit punch. She didn’t act drunk. No stumbling, no slurring, but she’d been as hot as any feline in heat. He hoped she didn’t attack Darrel when they got to his place. Wouldn’t it be interesting to see what Sam would do? He imagined Alex and Sam going at it—a provocative picture considering Sam's size. But Alex had some moves, that girl. He shook his head to ward off his degenerate mental rambling.

  Darrel and Samantha lived in the historic Boston Edison district of Detroit after acquiring a terrific deal on the Charles Fisher mansion attributed to the anemic real estate debacle. The colossal dwelling accommodated eleven bedrooms, seven and a half baths, and a master suite complete with elevator. Standing tall on an oversized lot, the estate also included a carriage house converted to an apartment. Sam and Darrel rattled around inside the 14,000 square foot manor hoping someday to fill it with children. The first time Cole and Desi visited, they meandered from room to room, wide-eyed, admiring the carved moldings and hand painted ceilings, the marble ballroom, billiard room and solarium. Quite the show place. How would Alex react to it? Would she even notice in her state of mind?

  He rolled into the circular drive and parked the car.

  *

  A woman, looking like a goddess except for the jeans, answered the door—her mahogany face aglow when she recognized Cole. They embraced and he kissed her on the lips.

  "Welcome to our humble abode," she said in a deep throaty voice. Her dancing black eyes, closer to the level of Cole’s, dropped to meet Alex’s. "Hello, I’m Samantha. Come on in."

  She spoke to her like she would a child. It could be because she had her coat on backwards. Alex wanted to protest, tell her why, but Cole mouthed, 'I’ll do the talking.'

  Sam stepped aside to let them pass into the richly paneled vestibule.

  Alex immediately disliked Amazon Sam. She’d been trying to get a kiss out of Cole all night and this woman got one without any effort at all. She studied her competition. Knock-down gorgeous. That didn’t seem to take any effort at all either considering she wore a pair of worn jeans, long-sleeved shirt, and not a visible speck of make-up. With zero body fat, and a more than adequate pair of boobs, she could qualify as a model for Playboy. Alex threw a distasteful look at her back as Sam led them into the front hall.

  She directed them to the library before leaving to go in search of her husband. Unless she knew exactly where to find him, she could be gone for a couple of days. That would be just fine with Alex.

  "You can change into your clothes if you promise to behave," Cole said, showing her the blouse and pants draped over one arm. When she didn't answer, he sent her a penetrating look. "Well?"

  She sighed. "You kissed Amazon Sam." She puckered. "I want mine, please."

  Cole cocked an eyebrow and chuckled. "Amazon Sam, hmm, she’ll love that."

  These people were Cole’s friends. Good friends, from the way they greeted each other. Alex didn’t like the way it made her feel, insignificant and outside the perimeters of his life. A few minutes ago, they’d been alone and now she had to share him. She ached to be touched. Never had she been this hot for anyone before. If she didn’t get some relief soon, she’d have to take matters into her own hands. But sh
e wanted Cole.

  Alex nudged his arm. When he sent her a sidelong look, she motioned, with her head, for him to come closer. He leaned over and she whispered, "Let’s go." She tongued his ear.

  Cole straightened, used the end of his scarf to dab at the wetness. "Behave. We’re—"

  "Hey, man, about time you dropped by." A man appeared, crossed the room, and shook hands with Cole. Sam followed close behind.

  "I’m Darrel, Sam’s lesser half," he said through an engaging smile.

  This couldn't be Sam’s husband. She’d pictured someone like Denzel Washington but got Martin Lawrence. At least he recognized his position since he had to be about half her size.

  Cole elbowed her.

  He wanted her to introduce herself. Normally she possessed excellent people skills, but, at the moment, she had one thing on her mind and it had nothing to do with social decorum. But if it would get them out of there faster, "I’m Alex," she said.

  Darrel raised an eyebrow. He had to notice her attire, or lack of it, since Cole still held her clothes over his arm.

  "I’m in a bit of a quandary here," Cole said.

  "I can see that. How can I help?" Darrel tried to stifle a grin but didn’t succeed.

  "I hate to sound rude, but we need to get going." Alex used her backside to urge Cole toward the door.

  Sidestepping her, he spoke to Darrel, "May I see you for a minute? I need a favor."

  "I can’t wait to hear this." He faced Alex. "Sam will keep you company until we return." He winked. "I promise he'll be back in a flash."

  He spoke in the same voice as Sam. Hey, I’m thirty-one, not five. "I hope so," Alex said. "We’re in a hurry."

  Sam sat on one of the floral sofas in front of well-stocked book shelves spanning the perimeter of the room and patted the seat beside her. "Let’s get acquainted."

  Sitting, Alex stared across the hall at the closed pair of doors through which Cole and Darrel disappeared. What had been so important that he left her alone with a stranger? She supposed she should make small talk. "Nice place," she said, without enthusiasm. Cole’s hands on her body in places people didn’t talk about in public seemed to be all she could focus on. The tingling in her private spot increased. She squirmed on the cushion. It didn’t help.

  "Are you all right?" Sam asked, watching her closely.

  "No, uh, yes, uh, I don’t know."

  "I’ll get you some water. You look flushed."

  "That’s all ri. . ."

  Sam already was on the move.

  Alex rose and skulked to the double doors standing between her and Cole. She put an ear to the heavy oak. No sound came from behind it. Through the fabric of the coat, she squeezed the handle, gently twisting the knob. When she heard the faint click, she pushed until she could see through the narrow crack.

  ". . . see what I can do," Darrel said. "I’m not promising anything, but you know I love a challenge."

  Cole handed him the bottle still wrapped in his handkerchief.

  "Speaking of which, that's quite a little monkey clinging to your back. No off switch?"

  "If I’m looking for trouble."

  They chuckled.

  "What about a blood sample?" Cole asked.

  "Can’t do it unless she consents."

  Alex quickly closed the door and whirled around when it appeared their business had come to a conclusion.

  Busted.

  Sam had returned from the kitchen, a glass in her hand. She peered at Alex curiously for a millisecond and smiled. "Here's your water."

  Alex scurried back to the library before the men opened the door. She didn’t want Cole to know she’d been spying even though Amazon Sam had caught her. She looked like the tattling type. It shouldn’t surprise him though. He'd already seen that side of her that first day when she ran into him. She dropped onto the cushions as the doors opened.

  Sam placed a coaster on the table and set the glass of water on it. "Cole, mind if I help Alex get dressed?"

  He handed her the clothes and Sam led her to the powder room. She tossed the clothes on the back of a chair, removed Cole’s belt, and unbuttoned Alex’s coat in the back. "If you want to wash up, help yourself."

  Alex nodded. When the door closed, she shrugged off the coat and picked up her blouse. When she’d taken the drink at Mc-G’s, she hadn’t felt its effects until she’d downed most of the bottle. At first she felt light-headed, the blood rushing through her veins. Soon her body grew hot and sensitive, the fabric of her clothes like tiny needles pricking her skin. She hadn’t wanted anything touching her, couldn’t wait to rip the garments off. The tingling gravitated to her groin, causing a reaction she couldn’t control. If Cole hadn’t intervened, thank god, she would've stripped off her bra and panties.

  The aching hadn’t ceased, but had diminished to a more tolerable level. Whatever had been in the fruit punch began to lose its grip. She shoved an arm into a sleeve and then the other, before slipping it onto her shoulders. When the material fell over her breasts, she sucked in her breath. Tender, but not painful. Would her pants pass the test? She slid them on and fastened them. Not too tight. Good. She checked herself in the mirror. Her face still flushed, she ran her fingers through her hair, raking out the tangles. She twisted the tap on and cupped her hands beneath the flowing water. Bending over, she buried her face in the cool liquid. Mm-m, refreshing. She tugged a fluffy towel from the towel bar and dried off.

  When she rejoined the threesome, all heads swiveled her way with identical expressions of appreciation and anticipation. Evidently, she’d passed inspection, but no one knew what to expect next. Well, neither did she. Better, but not 100 percent yet. When she gazed at Cole, her body reacted in ways she’d forgotten it could.

  The men rose as she approached.

  "Sit here," Cole said, waving to the sofa upon which he’d been seated.

  Alex sat and lifted the glass of water to her mouth that Sam had hand delivered earlier. She swallowed. The drink at Mc-G’s not only hadn’t quenched her thirst it heightened it. She gulped the rest and held out the glass. "More, please."

  Sam left and returned holding a tray of glasses. A round of water for everyone.

  "Thanks, babe," Darrel said.

  When they finished their drinks and the small talk Alex paid little mind to, Cole crooked his finger at her. "I need you to do me a favor."

  Her heart thumped. Finally. She followed him out into the hall.

  He said quietly, "I want a blood sample."

  Disappointed, though not surprised, she said, "What do I get in exchange?"

  He frowned.

  She loved the way his brow crinkled into half a dozen little squiggly lines between his eyebrows.

  "You’ll find out what they put in that drink."

  She smirked. "What if I don’t care?"

  He mimicked her expression. "You will tomorrow."

  "Ask me then."

  "It’ll be too late and you know it."

  A bit testy, aren’t we? Alex mulled over the request. "I will on one condition."

  He lifted his eyebrow, the one that managed to rouse the butterflies. "I'm listening."

  "A kiss. I mean a real kiss. Not on the cheek. Not a peck on the lips. A big smack-a-roo, here!" She pointed to her lips.

  CHAPTER 40

  Cole stared at Alex’s full lips. What would it feel like to kiss them? How would they fit with his? He shook his head. Was he really going to let her railroad him into doing something against his better judgment? All night, he’d resisted her advances. It hadn’t been easy. Still, a man had to do what a man had to do. He needed the blood sample. "That your final answer?"

  "That’s my final answer."

  "It's a deal."

  They retreated to the library.

  "Alex has agreed to a blood test," Cole said.

  Sam ushered Cole aside. "In her state of mind, can she give her consent?"

  God love her, always the lawyer fighting for women’s rights. "Believe me, sh
e knows exactly what she’s doing," Cole said.

  Sam shot him a skeptical look. Giving Alex a penetrating stare, she asked, "Do you understand what Cole and Darrel are asking of you?"

  "Sure. To give a blood sample so they can figure out what's in the fruit punch."

  "And you’re okay with it?"

  Alex cocked her head in Cole's direction. "As long as he keeps his part of the bargain."

  Sam lifted her eyebrows. "And that would be?"

  "He promised—"

  "To leave as soon as it’s done," Cole said, twirling Alex around and giving her his mother’s look that never failed to shut him up. "Darrel, let’s do it," he said, without removing his eyes from Alex’s.

  They went across the hall to the study leaving Sam alone. Darrel went off to prepare the syringe.

  "I want the kiss before, not after," Alex said. "I’m not taking a chance you’ll renege."

  Cole’s stomach crimped, tension settled in his shoulders. He maneuvered her to face him and dropped his hands.

  She smiled.

  "Know something?" He cocked his head slightly.

  She stared up at him, eyes wide.

  "I like you." Cole smiled. "And I think you're attractive."

  She elevated her arms as if to wrap them around his neck.

  He gently grabbed her wrists. "It's the reason I can’t do this."

  Her face fell. "You promised."

  "I know, but I shouldn’t have." He sighed. "A first kiss is special. It’s supposed to take a relationship to the next level. If, and when, we kiss that’s what I want it to mean for us."

  Darrel opened the door. "Am I interrupting something?" He dropped the paraphernalia on the massive cherry wood desk.

  "Sorry for the trouble," Cole said. "Alex changed her mind."

  "I didn’t say that."

  He raised his eyebrows. "You sure?"

  She rolled her sleeve up.

  *

  Twenty minutes later, they were on their way—Cole in the front seat of the car, Alex in the back. She opened her mouth to object, but closed it again when she caught the expression on his face in the rearview mirror. He looked tired.