Quinn moved closer to the sofa, unable to see the woman’s face. “What did you do to her?”
“I punched her.”
“WHAT? You hit a woman?” Quinn glared at his long time friend.
“What was I supposed to do?” Malik tossed up his hands. “She attacked me with some judo - karate shit.”
“Man, you can be such a jerk sometime. I can’t believe all you could think to do was punch her. She’s half your size.” Wiz shoved past him. “I’ll get some ice.”
Quinn sat on the edge of the sofa and leaned over her. With a finger under her chin, he turned her head slightly not missing the tinted area across her jaw where Malik must’ve hit her. Oh shit. He jerked his hand away.
“Don’t let her size fool you,” Malik said from across the room. “That girl landed some good blows, and she’s quick.”
Quinn couldn’t stop staring at her. It was the woman from the hospital. She looked so much like Alandra that if he didn’t know any better he’d say it was her. He must have shifted just enough to wake her and before he had a chance to react, her hands and arms started moving faster than the speed of light. He dodged an uppercut to his chin and moved just in time of being kneed in the side. “Hey!” Quinn halted her with a death grip on her wrists, his body draped over hers. And then their eyes met. He leaped to his feet and backed away from the sofa.
Holy Mother of…There is no way she can be alive. When the woman rose from the sofa, Quinn took a slow perusal of her body from the top of her head down to the red ballerina-like shoes covering her feet. Behind the long straight reddish hair, green contact lenses, and a thinner body than he remembered, stood the woman he’d vowed to love until the end of time. Alandra - dark olive skin, the flattened nose inherited from her Hispanic father, full lips, and a curvaceous body all from her African American mother. Her mixed race was more apparent than he remembered.
He moved in closer. Despite the minor changes to her appearance he was almost sure it was her, but how was it possible? He had held her bloodied body in his arms. No way could she have survived a bullet to the chest. Never had he been at a loss for words when it came to a beautiful woman, but when the woman was supposed to be dead, words escaped him.
“Q, don’t tell me you know this woman,” Malik roared.
“Keep him away from me,” Alandra said of Malik.
Quinn shook his head in disbelief when she spoke. Her deep velvety voice could have easily belonged to a 1-900 phone sex operator.
“You attacked me!” Malik yelled. “I think you busted up one of my ribs with that judo shit. Who the hell are you anyway?”
The question jolted Quinn out of his coma-like shock. He looked from Malik to Wiz, who had just returned with the ice. “I need you guys to give us a minute.”
Malik shook his head. “No way, man. Not before you tell us who she is.”
Quinn narrowed his eyes at Malik, wishing he’d back off, but in all fairness, Quinn couldn’t be mad at them for wanting some answers. Hell, he wanted some too. He looked over his shoulder at Alandra.
“Why don’t you tell my friends who you really are Ms. Aguilar?”
Alandra tilted her head. “Porque no puedes decirles? Ellos son tus amigos.”
He stiffened as though she had struck him. Yeah, these guys were his friends and sure he could tell them who she was, but he was still trying to process her actually being alive, and in his house! The last thing he wanted to do was play games. Feeling his patience wane, he said as calmly as he could. “I want you to tell them.”
Her hands slammed on her hips and she huffed, “My name is Velvet Aguilar.”
With one-step, Quinn was in her face. “Tell them who the hell you really are!”
She jumped at his tone, and Quinn felt Wiz and Malik jolt to attention.
“Come on, Q,” Wiz stepped closer, his hand on Quinn’s shoulder. “Don’t you think you’re being a little harsh?”
Quinn ignored the question, his eyes trained on Alandra. A few seconds passed with them staring at each other.
“Fine. My name is Alandra Pargas-Hamilton … Quinn’s wife.”
Chapter Two
“What?” Malik and Wiz yelled.
“You’re married?”
“How?”
“When?”
Quinn pursed his lips and scowled while they bombarded him with question after question.
Alandra recognized the look of frustration on Quinn’s handsome face. She should, considering she’d seen it plenty of times when they use to argue about her work. He thought her job as a CIA counter-intelligence agent was too dangerous, and at times, she thought so too. Being kidnapped in Guerrero Mexico immediately came to mind, her most dangerous assignment. It was during that time that she truly knew how much Quinn loved her.
“I can’t believe you’re married!” Alandra heard one of his friends say.
She stepped out of the way and closer to the sofa, taking the opportunity to get a better look at her husband. Except for the night they ran into each other at the hospital, she hadn’t seen Quinn in three long, painful years. How many times had she cried from loneliness, unable to seek him out? How many nights did treasured memories of him keep her from falling asleep? She missed Quinn like crazy, and she had a feeling that seeing him up close again would make walking away almost impossible.
At well over six feet tall, with mahogany skin, perfect facial features, and a chiseled body that made him look like a Nubian god, any woman within five feet of him would call on the Almighty for strength. Though she had always lived her life on the edge, fulfilling her need right now to reach out and run her hands down his muscular chest and her fingers through his beautiful dread locks probably wouldn’t be a good idea.
Quinn held his hands out in front of him. “Listen, I’ll tell you as much as I can later, but right now I need to speak with Alandra…alone.” When Malik and Wiz left the room, he turned to her.
Alandra’s eyes met his, and she felt the smoldering heat from his gaze to the depth of her soul. Okay, so coming here might not have been a good idea. Unwilling to maintain eye contact for fear of doing something stupid like jumping into his arms, she glanced around the spacious room. Quinn always did have expensive taste. The open floor plan gave her a good view of the kitchen, informal eating area, and the great room where they were currently standing. She took in the dark brown leather pit set that was clearly the focal point of the space, heavy glass tables with white marble legs were positioned in front of the sofa, and a taller version behind the sofa. The plush taupe carpet with walls the same color, adorned with afrocentric art, and white crown molding helped contrast the heaviness of the furnishings. The expensive looking décor was so him - a mixture of strength and calm.
She looked up to find him still staring at her. “Quinn, please don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?” He shrugged. “Like I haven’t seen you in years? Like I’m in shock? Like I’m seeing a ghost? The last time I saw you, Alandra, you were covered in blood with a hole in your chest.”
She dropped her gaze trying to find the right words. Suddenly her reason for not letting him know she was alive didn’t seem like a very good reason. When she looked up, he still wore the same wary scowl. “I’m sorry. I should have found a way to tell you.”
“And why were you lurking around outside, sabotaging my alarm system?” he asked, as if she hadn’t just apologized.
“I wanted to see you, to talk. As for the alarm system, it wasn’t intentional. I didn’t realize I did anything to it. Before I could ring the doorbell, your friend showed up and I decided to wait on the side of the house until he left.”
Quinn continued to stare. The intensity in his midnight dark eyes scrutinized every inch of her.
“I don’t even know what to say to you,” he finally spoke just above a whisper, his voice laced with anguish. Alandra looked at him, unsure of how to respond, but didn’t have to say anything when he continued. “A part of me wants to wrap
you in my arms and love on you so fierce that you’ll never want to leave me again, but then there’s the other part of me. The part that is mad as hell that my wife has been alive all this time, working in the city that I live in, and has never tried to contact me. That part of me wants nothing more than for you to get your ass out of my house and stay the hell out of my life…for good.”
Alandra reared back, stunned by the bitterness of his words. But what had she expected - to be welcomed with opened arms? Maybe not, but she had hoped they could at least talk. Yet, if she was honest with herself, she knew his unforgiving heart would rear its wicked head. He was the most committed, determined and trusted man to those he loved, but merciless toward his enemies. And right now she wasn’t sure how Quinn saw her.
Quinn released a long ragged sigh and leaned against a nearby wall, his muscular arms folded across his chest. “Do you have any idea what I’ve been through these last few years, thinking you were dead? Thinking I’d never be able to touch you, hold you, or make love to you? Hell, I watched you die, Alandra, in my arms! You have any idea what that feels like? To watch the one woman you loved more than life get gunned down.”
His voice broke, but he held his gaze steady, maintaining his usual tough-guy composure, and Alandra’s heart crumbled. She blinked rapidly to keep tears from falling. He had always been so hard, tough, and strong willed. It had been too easy for her to forget he was just a man. She drew in a deep breath as she walked toward him.
“Quinn, I’m sorry, but I lost too. I’ve missed you so much, and staying away was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. So many times I wanted to call you, but I couldn’t. It wasn’t safe.”
He pushed slowly away from the wall and approached her with concern in his eyes. “What do you mean it wasn’t safe?” He reached out to touch her, but dropped his arm.
Disappointment crept in when he took a step back as if she were toxic, as if touching her would somehow weaken him. Alandra swallowed hard and decided it was probably for the best. Had he pulled her into his arms, there was no telling what would happen. Besides, that wasn’t why she had come. Three years ago someone tried to kill her, and now she was determined to find out who and why, but she needed Quinn’s help.
She sighed, anxious about getting him to understand. “Quinn, I’m in the midst of something big and you’re going to blow my cover if you keep coming to the hospi—”
“Are you kidding me?” he yelled. His angry eyes pierced her soul deeper than any knife ever could. “This three year disappearance is connected to some goddamn op?”
She stepped to him and placed her hands on his chest in hopes of calming him down. “No. No, you don’t understand. It’s just that—”
“I can’t believe this shit!” He jerked away from her and raised his fist as if he were going to punch through the wall.
“Let me explain,” Alandra grabbed his arm.
He turned abruptly. “Explain? Hell, you’ve had three damn years to explain.”
“But I couldn’t. I—”
“Yeah, you could have,” he said in a hoarse whisper. He held her face in his large hands, his lips inches from hers. Her pulse quickened. “Lan, baby, there is nothing I wouldn’t have done for you including give my life. I mean absolutely nothing. And you knew that, so don’t tell me you didn’t have a choice.”
He dropped his hands and Alandra immediately missed the warmth on her cheeks. The pain she saw in his eyes burned into her memory. This man had risked his life by showing up in Guerrero, Mexico to save her from Orlando Medina, a ruthless drug lord. A man like Medina wouldn’t have thought twice about killing her had Quinn not shown up when he had. And here she was saying that she couldn’t come to him.
“Q, please let me explain.”
“You’re a professional liar so anything you tell me will probably be bullshit,” he said, a faint tremor in his voice. “Just go.” He walked out of the room without a backwards glance and she followed behind him, prepared to plead her case, but pulled up short when they reached the front door, and he opened it.
“Quinn.”
“Get…out.”
****
Alandra refused to cry. Hurrying to her car, parked half a mile away, she pulled her hat down further over her head and snuggled deeper into her jacket, her shoulders hunched up to her ears. She had never felt so humiliated in all her life. How could Quinn treat her so cold, dismissing her as if she were a beggar on the street looking for a handout? Sure, she understood his shock in her appearing on his doorstep after so much time, but to refuse her an opportunity to explain wasn’t like him.
She finally reached her vehicle and with frozen fingers she fumbled with her keys, dropping them twice before she successfully unlocked the door. She hated Chicago’s weather. It was only October and already temperatures had dropped to the low twenties. At this rate, there was no way she would be able to handle winter in the Midwest. The sooner she found the people she was after, the quicker she could head back west.
Anxious to get out of the cold, she practically dove into the car once she got the door opened and rushed to start the engine. Her teeth clattered, her body shivered and she wondered if she would ever get warm again.
What a waste. She thought of her intention to get Quinn to stay away from the hospital. Not only had she seen a different side of him, a side she didn’t like, but she also almost froze her butt off in the process. Parking so far away, on the coldest day of the year was an even worse decision than going to see him. He lived out in the middle of nowhere, a densely wooded area with very few lights. She had talked herself into going to him without being sure she was ready to see him face to face, and had parked a distance away in order to sneak away if she chickened out at the last minute.
How could I have been so stupid? To think I could just walk in there and ask for his help. What was I thinking?
Seeing Quinn again sparked an untamed desire within her, and memories of the love they once shared had tormented her since the day she saw him in the emergency room. She knew months ago that he lived in Chicago, but hadn’t decided when or if she’d reveal herself, but after the night at the hospital she ached to see him again. It wasn’t just because she needed his help; it was because she knew she was still very much in love with him.
Once on the highway, Alandra dodged in and out of traffic. The heat in her car was on full blast, but she still shivered against the freezing cold. If it weren’t for following a lead on her self-imposed mission to find the person responsible for ruining her life, she would be on the next plane back to Los Angeles.
She pulled into the Jewel Osco’s grocery store parking lot. She had just over an hour to get to work, but after eating fast food for the last three days, she needed something more nutritious.
Alandra stepped out of the car, stopped and glanced around. An eerie sensation of being watched had plagued her for the last couple of days, and tonight was no different. A slow perusal of her surroundings, nearby cars, people walking to and from the store, revealed nothing. Nothing looked out of place, but the creepy tingling on the back of her neck remained.
She shook off the feeling, sure she was being paranoid. Only her sister and now Quinn and his friends knew she was in Chicago, so it was unlikely that she was being watched. She grabbed her bag and locked the car door. Living as a different person for the past few years had made her even more restless than usual. She’d never been one for living in fear, but once someone tries to kill you, you’re never the same. And as an ex-spy for the CIA, she still looked over her shoulder at every turn out of habit, wondering if she would ever be able to shake the annoying practice.
Alandra hurried into the grocery store, seized a hand-held basket and proceeded to the deli counter to place an order for two. Since arriving in Chicago, she and her sister, Natasha Lockham, Chief of Staff at the hospital, often grabbed a quick bite together. Guilt clawed at Alandra when she thought of her sister. When she begged Natasha for a job, she never mentioned the main reaso
n she wanted to work there - her target was a nurse employed at the same hospital. There was a lot her sister didn’t know, and for now Alandra wanted to keep it that way.
Alandra jerked her head around when the prickling sensation on the back of her neck started up again. A quick scan of her surroundings only revealed a man with a thick wool hat and an oversized coat talking to a little boy about peanut butter, an older woman looking through the day-old bread in the bakery, and three women arguing good naturedly about which dinner rolls to purchase. There was no one watching her or at least no one she could see. Okay, now this is getting weird. Maybe I’m just tired.
“Here you go ma’am. Can I get you anything else?”
Alandra turned to the woman behind the counter. “No, this is good. Thank you.” She took the two sandwiches and proceeded to the check out. If she didn’t get herself together, she would need to start seeing a therapist again. After her near death experience, it had taken over a year of counseling to start sleeping through the night without waking up in a cold sweat every few hours. Those were some dark days and going back to a therapist would be like reliving it all over again. No, whatever this weird sensation was would pass. That was a different time in her life and she had survived.
Twenty minutes later Alandra sat in front of her sister’s desk while she finished a call. Dr. Natasha Lockham, Chief of Staff. Alandra stared at the nameplate in her hand, tracing the gold plated letters with her index finger. Throughout her life, her big sister had been her go to person, her rock, and the only one in her family who knew she’d been a spy for the CIA. Just once she would have liked to see her sister, not about a problem or some drama, but with good news. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be tonight.
Alandra glanced at Natasha who was on the telephone. Divorced ten years ago, her sister gave up on love and poured herself into her career, making her one of the youngest Chief of Staff in the city. At thirty-five, with smooth bronze toned skin, she looked more like their Latino father than her or their other sister, and she had his same work ethic – you’re not finished until the job is done perfectly.
Rendezvous with Danger (Reunited Series) Page 2