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Scandalous Heroes Box Set

Page 27

by Latrivia Nelson


  “Pleased the night is going so well and thinking about something Godric said.”

  “I was surprised to see Miss O’Shea here.”

  “She’s very good at her job, Mother.”

  “I wasn’t saying otherwise, Charleston. Merely surprised to see her here especially since Prescott isn’t here.” A pause. “Or my grandchildren.”

  Only she calls Scott by his full first name—Prescott. Mother is always with the formalities. “He’s out of town. Left yesterday. Lex called me.”

  “She’s not here, either.”

  Because you have never made her feel welcome. “She’s working tonight as well.”

  “Who is watching the children?”

  He shrugged. “Babysitter? Someone, I’m sure. I don’t think Lex is the kind of woman to leave her children unattended.”

  “She should be home with them.”

  Lord save him. “Lex is a doctor, Mother. She works long hours.” A sniff. He ended their dance by Godric and said, “He insisted on the next dance.”

  Godric glared but Reeve didn’t care. He was free. He loved his mother but never quite understood her. He scanned the crowd, going over dancers, talkers, and drinkers. Until he found her.

  Off to the side, talking to another guest. His eyes narrowed as the man turned, giving him a side profile view. Marcus Lattimore. Playboy. Went through women, well, much like Reeve used to. Not a man Reeve wanted around Affrica.

  Heading for them, he slowed when Affrica reached into her pocket and withdrew a card.

  “Wonderful, thank you, Ms. O’Shea,” Marcus said. “I’ll be in touch.”

  “What’s going on here?” he asked, stopping closer to Affrica.

  “Mr. Leighton.”

  “Hey, Reeve. She gave me her card. She sells images into calendars or large pictures. I’m looking for my parents.” Marcus nodded at her. “Thanks again.” Then, he was gone.

  Reeve focused on Affrica. What was it about her? Her eyes met his, and he couldn’t ignore the tug on his heart. Neither could he forget her words, though, and he stiffened.

  “It’s a beautiful party,” she commented.

  Shoving back what he wanted to say, he merely nodded, not trusting his voice.

  She yawned and shook her head. “Excuse me.”

  “You okay?”

  “Aye. Just getting tired.” The air between them sparked, and she cleared her throat. “I should get back to work.” She walked away without another word.

  Reeve just stood there and watched her go. He felt someone approach but never looked from Affrica’s retreating body.

  “She’s sure something else, isn’t she?”

  He bristled at the amount of affection in Godric’s voice. Licking his lips, he forced himself to remain relaxed.

  “Don’t even think about it.”

  “Think about what?”

  “Affrica.”

  Godric remained silent for a moment before he sighed. “Grow up, Reeve.” His brother walked off, leaving him alone.

  His mind continued to stay soured as the night wound down. He spoke to one of the caterers and saw Affrica by an SUV with Godric. His hands clenched into fists when his brother hugged and kissed her on the cheek. Then, she drove away, and he realized he’d barely been able to spend time with her.

  Saying goodnight to his parents, he, too, went home. Hard and aching for Affrica O’Shea. Jacking off in the shower didn’t seem to help him in the least.

  He had it bad and knew it. Sleep didn’t come easily, and he woke in a foul mood. After he dressed, he made his way to his new Jaguar and slid behind the wheel. He drove to Godric’s condo and parked in a visitor spot. At the door, he rang the bell. Nothing, so he rang it again. This time, it opened. All the air in his lungs escaped in a rush. Affrica stood there, looking all together at home in tank top, shorts, and barefooted.

  The green-eyed monster surfaced swift and deadly. I’m going to kill him.

  “Where is he?”

  “Shower.” She stepped back. “Come on in.”

  He ground his jaw and entered his brother’s home. Godric’s place was quite the opposite of his. This place had character. She closed the door behind him, and he latched onto her arm when she moved by him.

  “Did you spend the night here?”

  Affrica blinked thrice before answering. “Good morning to you, too.”

  “Did. You. Sleep. Here?”

  “No.” She jerked free and walked away. His gaze was transfixed on her ass, cupped by the white fabric of her shorts. Her long, toned brown legs made his cock rock hard. He knew how they felt wrapped tight around him as he pumped into her. The thought of his brother feeling it as well had the effect of being doused in icy cold water.

  “So what then, you came over early this morning for a romp?”

  Affrica paused and tensed slightly before sitting on one end of the brown leather couch. Her eyes blazed with suppressed fury. “You seem to be under the impression I’ve the same lack o’ morals as you do, Reeve Leighton.”

  A spear of embarrassment jerked through him but he ignored it. His haze of jealous idiocy making him stupid.

  “Just stopped by for a quickie? I would have welcomed you in my bed.”

  Her look would have sent hell into a deep freeze. She pushed to her feet and walked by him. He spun and watched her grab a bag by the door.

  “Leaving already?” His question was more of a sneer.

  “Aye. I’ve no desire ta listen ta this.” She pivoted toward him. “I made a mistake with you. It’s a pity, too, for I liked you. I really did.”

  Affrica shouldered her bag and vanished beyond the door. The click sounded so final. He frowned, severely disliking the feeling which swarmed him.

  “Sorry, Affrica, I didn’t… Oh, Reeve. When did you arrive? And where’s Affrica?”

  He turned to see his brother standing there in a pair of khaki shorts and a dark green shirt. His hair tousled and still damp but it was the smile which rubbed him wrong.

  “What was she doing here?”

  All welcome drained from Godric’s face. “Was? Jesus, Reeve, again? You opened your big mouth again?”

  “Answer my goddamn question!”

  Godric threw up his hands, disgust all over his face. He headed for the kitchen, and Reeve followed.

  “You, Reeve, make me want to drink something a hell of a lot stronger than water.” He grabbed a bottle of water and slammed some before placing the bottle back down with a jarring action. “What the fuck, man? You come into my house and say something so rude to my guest leaves?”

  He hated his brother claiming her like that and he wasn’t even remotely a fan of the fury in his tone. Godric was normally such an easygoing person.

  “I’m surprised she even answered the door. Didn’t want her in the shower?”

  Godric narrowed his gaze. “Get out.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. Get out. Get the fuck out of my house. I’m done, Reeve. You can’t come in here, or my business, and insult my friends. I don’t know what’s going on with you but I don’t have to listen to this.”

  “I told you to stay away from her,” Reeve growled.

  “And I told you to grow the fuck up,” Godric snapped. “Apparently, neither of us listened to the other.”

  Reeve looked at his brother and saw the raw fury in his expression. Apologize. He held his hands up. “I’m sorry. I saw her here and I just, guess I kind of—”

  “I don’t want to hear it, Reeve. I don’t care. Your apology means shit to me. It’s past time for you grow up. Think before you speak and, for God’s sake, learn you aren’t the center of the universe.”

  Eerily similar to words uttered by his older brother, Scott. Reeve opened his mouth only to be waved off by Godric.

  “Go.”

  “Are you sleeping with her?” he asked.

  “Some days, it’s hard to believe you’re my older brother. She’s not my type. Get out. I’m going to go th
rough the pics she took last night—which was why she was here, if you cared—then I’ll email them to you.”

  Godric turned his back on him, and Reeve knew he’d been dismissed. So he left. Back at his place, Reeve sat on his sofa and stared out the windows. What was wrong with him? He’d been cranky and picking fights for nothing. Fuck it. He dropped his head back and groaned.

  He had a lot of excuses but he ignored them. Bottom line, there was no excuse. And his spoiled attitude may have just cost him not only the woman he wanted but also his brother.

  Chapter Nine

  Urubici, a city in the state of Santa Catarina, Brazil

  Affrica smiled at the group of children who ran past, snow rising in puffs beneath their hurrying feet. Some of the older kids came dashing back to her.

  “Take our picture! Take our picture!” they cried in Portuguese.

  “Okay, okay,” she replied with a laugh in the same language. Readjusting her hold on the camera and bag in her hand, she followed them.

  They walked to an open meadow with a rushing waterfall at the far end. An amazing sight with the snow and ice surrounding it. The numerous youngsters were embroiled in a serious snowball fight.

  “Go play.”

  As the ones who’d escorted her did, she sat on a large stump and opened her bag before uncapping the lens cover. They played, and she snapped pictures. Some of the game and many of them posing for her.

  “Are you sure you must leave tomorrow?”

  Affrica peered to her right and found her friend, Joao, standing there.

  Getting to her feet, she ignored the brief chill which racked her. Then, she nodded with a sigh. “I’m afraid so. I have to get going to make my next stop.”

  “You weren’t here long,” he said, continuing in Portuguese.

  “I know, and I wish I could stay. I was down for the Campos do Jordão International Winter Festival. I spent some extra time there.”

  “More exciting in São Paulo?”

  “Not at all. I love it here, too.” It was true. She did have great affection for both places. São Paulo state was the richest in Brazil, and Campos do Jordão was an upscale district itself. But the festival was a huge draw and loads of fun for her. It was, after all, the largest classical music event in Latin America.

  But, she loved it here in the highlands of Urubici. The wealth of cultural influences made it a wonderful place in her estimation. There existed such variety in cuisine, the arts, and architecture. She had taken numerous pictures of the Avencal Waterfall, which had one hundred meters of free fall, and some indigenous caves, which boasted rupestral engravings. Items that dated back more than four thousand years.

  “I just wish to spend more time with you.”

  She shouldered her bag and tugged on her gloves, grateful for their warmth. “What happened with the girl you were dating last time I was here? Mirari, I believe.”

  “We’re just friends. There’s someone else I want.”

  “Oh, I see.” She waved to the children who seemed to have inexhaustible energy. “Walk back with me?”

  “Of course.”

  She half listened to Joao as they headed back into town. In truth, however, her mind had wound its way back to a certain man named Reeve Leighton. It didn’t make sense; he could be so damn boorish, and yet, he made her smile and feel oh-so-good.

  It had been a couple of months since she’d seen him. He’d called her once and apologized for his behavior. But she’d not called him back. The vibration against her hip had her shifting her bag and reaching for her phone. Could it be?

  No.

  Still, a grin lifted her lips as she saw the name on the caller ID screen.

  “Aidrian, how are you?” she asked in Gaelige, ignoring Joao’s quizzical look.

  “I’m fine, just calling to check on you.” He spoke Irish as well.

  “Fine here, big brother. About to head to Africa then Scotland. What about you? Where are you? Or is it some undisclosed location.”

  “Very funny. I’m in my apartment, getting ready to head to Australia.”

  She stepped inside the small café, grateful for the warmth. “Back to see your cute woman?”

  “Enough out of you. I called to see how you were. Is there anything I should know?”

  “Know about what?” She smiled her thanks as Joao placed a mug of steaming hot chocolate before her.

  “Anything. Like perhaps why you were in Virginia with that Reeve.”

  That Reeve. Good Lord, she could feel Aidrian’s disgust from here. “Wow. First of all, I wasn’t there with him.” More’s the pity. “I was there working. Second, if I had been with him, it’s none of your concern.”

  “The hell it isn’t. If you weren’t with him, what was with the plane ride?”

  She fought an eye roll. “Well, I’d nae wish to swim to Virginia from Australia. Not a fan of sharks, you know.”

  “Affrica,” he growled.

  “Okay, you got me. I wanted wild monkey sex with him and figured that would be the only place I could get it.”

  Dead silence met her statement. She could imagine his thunderous expression and burst out laughing. “Come on, Aidrian. You knew about the plane—which is very disturbing anyway—so you know Mrs. Marshall was there.”

  “I don’t want him near you.”

  “Aidrian, I’m not a baby.” She took a drink, nearly groaning in pleasure.

  “You’re my sister.”

  “Yes. But a grown one who actually dresses herself.”

  “Is he with you?”

  Her shoulders slumped. Something never changed. “No, I haven’t seen him since I left. And, before you ask, nor have I spoken to him.”

  “Don’t be mad, Rica, I’m only looking out.”

  “I know. But give me some credit, okay? I have a good head on my shoulders. Trust my judgment.”

  “Like with Miles?”

  Those words hurt. Deeply. And she swallowed, fighting back her tears. “Goodbye, Aidrian.”

  Click. She hung up on him. Seconds later, her phone rang again. She hit ignore and put it in her bag.

  “Everything okay?” Joao touched her shoulder.

  Her smile was slightly strained. “My brother.” She waved a hand. “No big deal.”

  Unfortunately, it was a big deal. Even though it had happened months ago, there were nights she woke up in a sweat, panicked. To add to it, she had begun doubting her own ability to trust the right people. She had accepted Miles looked after himself, she just never figured he would betray her like he had. She struggled to keep those memories in the past and just enjoy her time with friends.

  The rest of her night passed in a blur of music, dancing, and all around fun. Climbing into the bus, which would take her to her plane, she closed her eyes and drifted off with the sounds of the locals chattering around her.

  At the airport, she woke enough to get inside and to her gate. However, once the plane had taken off, she was once again under the sandman’s lure. She slept for most of the flight, feeling safe up in the sky. She ate during the layover and drifted back to sleep during the reminder of the long flight.

  Well-rested, she disembarked from the plane onto the tarmac. The hot African sun a complete change from the snowy landscape she’d just departed. Tipping her head up, she let the heat sink into her bones.

  “Affrica! Affrica!”

  She snapped her head to the left and grinned at the woman running toward her. Her hair was in beautiful rows of microbraids. She wore a white sleeveless button down and a pair of khaki shorts. Hiking boots finished off the ensemble.

  “Tori,” she called out with a huge smile. “It’s so good to see you.”

  The women hugged.

  “You’re looking great,” Tori said. “I heard about Australia. Are you okay?”

  She nodded, touched by the concern. “Fine, thanks. You’re looking good, too. What are you doing here?”

  “A little buddy told me you were coming in. I just happened to
have a run, which brought me here today. Thought I could drop you off wherever you’re headed.”

  “I’d love that.”

  Tori Vaser was a friend from the university. It had been about two years since they’d seen one another. Born of an African father and a white English mother, Tori was a beautiful combination of both parents. Her life was a privileged one, and yet, she had made her parents proud—and a bit stressed—by working so closely with those less fortunate. In fact, she had started a candy company in which all sale profits went to charities around the world, mostly ones in Africa and England, but also other places.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Tori’s hair flew around her as a large billow of warm wind swept around them. “I’m actually on a vacation. We are discussing opening another store, since everything has taken off so well.”

  The women climbed in a Jeep and drove away. Affrica noticed many of the guards watching their departure.

  “That sounds wonderful.”

  “I hope so. It will at least provide more jobs in the area we open in.”

  She put her boots on the dash. “You’re an angel, Tori.”

  Her laughter was swept away by the wind. “Tell me,” Tori hollered. “What’s new in the continued adventures of Affrica O’Shea? You know, men, sex, all the important things.”

  Arms outstretched against the wind, Affrica sighed with pleasure. Life didn’t get much better than this. A fleeting image of a tousled, slumbering Reeve flashed, and she hesitated for a moment. Okay, perhaps two, before she began catching Tori up over the past few years. Leaving nothing out, not even Reeve Leighton.

  * * * *

  “What the fuck did you do, Reeve?” Scott’s baritone shattered the relative quiet of his condo.

  Looking up from the sandwich he currently assembled, Reeve frowned as his older brother came in, expression foreboding enough to send the devil himself into hiding.

  “Hello to you, too. Why don’t you come on in? Can I get you anything?” he ensured the sarcasm wouldn’t be missed.

  “Stuff it. What did you do?”

  “I haven’t done anything, Scott. Why don’t we skip the crap of me guessing and you just tell me what you’re accusing me of. Goes much faster that way.” He slapped the top piece of bread on and sighed. “I answered about the dinner. I told Lex I’d be there.”

 

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