by Lenise Lee
Her eyes scanned the concierge desk and spotted one of the night shift supervisors. Marissa raised her hand to catch the other woman’s attention then dropped it again when she saw the flustered expression spread across her face. Amy, a woman of about forty, was nearly purple in the cheeks. The busy woman’s lips were puckered and poked out like she had just sipped something very sour and pungent. The reception area was empty at the moment; however, there was little doubt that dozens of guests had already phoned or clambered down to the ground floor to harass the staff for details regarding the evening’s crimes. A hint of guilt at not being here to help pacify the mob touched her thoughts, but Marissa immediately dismissed it. Seeing to the well being of her loved ones would always take priority over dealing with whimpering strangers.
Nichole suddenly made a loud gasp.
“Oh…help me, Father.”
Fearing that the stress of the evening had finally pushed her friend into premature labor pains, Marissa reached out and grabbed Nichole’s swollen fingers.
“Nicky, what’s wrong?”
“My ride’s here,” Nichole replied bitterly. A look of tragic disappointment hung on her round cheeks and loathing filled her brown eyes. “Why did Eric have to be out of town this weekend? Ugh,” she said in one long sigh.
Marissa turned her head toward the direction Nichole was staring in. As if on cue, a tall and mischievously handsome man in his mid-twenties approached the women with an arrogant swagger. When he stopped a few inches away, his broad frame hovered over them. A wicked smile with the word trouble sewn into it dashed across his attractive face. Green eyes, filled with a forbidden mix of explosive fire and cool sensuality, glinted at them. Lovely lips, a quivering shade of rose-pink, perfectly accented his peachy tan complexion.
“Hey, Big Sis,” he said. Velvety charm dripped past his wide grin.
Another huge gasp of frustration leapt from Nichole’s mouth, which quickly twisted into a tormented frown.
“Pierce, I told you to stop calling me that.”
“Why not?” His grin morphed into an amused smirk. The shifty man seemed to be savoring Nichole’s heated reaction to him. “You married my brother sooo…technically, that’s what you are, right?” His eyes dropped down to her protruding tummy. “Oh, right…gotcha…the whole chubby pregnancy thing. Guess big wasn’t the best word choice.”
While Pierce chuckled at his own insensitive joke, Marissa looked over at Nichole. She could almost see the puffs of white smoke and sizzling orange flames shooting up from Nichole’s skull. The heavily pregnant woman defensively grabbed her stomach. She clenched her teeth until it looked like they would crack under the intense pressure from her jaw.
“Wrong!” She shot him down with a harsh rebuke. “It has nothing to do with the baby. Technically, Eric isn’t you’re real brother, so I’m never going to be your sister.” After Nichole made her point, a sad pout floated around her lips. “Besides…I’m not fat…this is baby weight.”
“If you say so,” Pierce said with a Cheshire cat smile pasted to his face. “Besides, you’ll be my sis soon enough.” The cocky man tossed Nichole a confident wink then glanced at his wristwatch. “In fact, I need to hurry up and get you home so I can freshen up for my lunch date.”
Nichole’s wide eyes darted to Marissa, who shrugged her shoulders. She had no comment to offer for that peculiar clue. When no answer came, Nichole’s confused stare rushed back to Pierce.
“A date with who? Who in the world would ever want to date you?” Nichole flicked the remarks at him with sharp distaste pouring from her mouth. “You can’t stop smiling at yourself in the mirror long enough to attract anyone other than your own reflection.”
Marissa remained silent during the family bickering, but her friend had made a very good point. Despite the fact that Pierce was an undeniably attractive man with obvious sex appeal, his ego was his fatal flaw. He rarely dated because most women considered him crude and unappealing.
“You should already know.” Pierce countered Nichole’s insult with a proud and rebellious grin. “Doesn’t your sister tell you anything?” Straight away, his expression went blank. All the color drained from his face. Shock filled his green gaze and smothered the conceited fire in his eyes. “Wait…you don’t know, do you?”
“Know what?” Nichole’s eyebrows dropped to her nose. After a few seconds, a distressing revelation stunned her face. “Oh, no…No, I am not having this mess,” she screeched. “Take me home…right now.” She waved her hands through the air and stomped her foot to stress her demand. “Actually…don’t take me home. Take me to Jersey City. I need to talk some sense into Nivea. I bet my dad doesn’t know anything about this craziness.”
Nichole wobbled her way toward the exit with Pierce in tow. A look of wounded pride remained clinging to his face. Marissa followed the squabbling pair into the early morning scene. While Pierce and Nichole muttered amongst themselves, Marissa said her goodbyes to her sister and gave Jasmine a departing hug.
“Call me when you get there.” Before continuing, Marissa glanced at the two in-laws, who were still battling in hushed voices. “Please…call me. I want to be sure all of you made it there safely.”
“I will,” Jasmine replied with an exhausted nod of her head.
When Pierce revved up his engine, Marissa stepped away from the curb. Her heart skipped a beat when the fire red sports car whizzed out the arching driveway. The racing vehicle zipped into the steady flow of traffic without breaking to merge. If Jasmine was in the middle of a quick doze, she was surely wide-awake after Pierce’s stunt driving.
Once the speeding vehicle made a sharp left then disappeared out of sight, Marissa walked back into the hotel lobby. She had not moved more than three feet inside the empty foyer when a gigantic man, one of the brawny security officers she had spotted earlier, stepped forward and blocked her path.
“Marissa Stiles?” The man’s terrifying bass spoke her name as though he were asking a question; nevertheless, it was obvious he already knew who she was.
“Yes?” Marissa’s reply was withered and weak. The aftershocks from a series of distressing events over the past few days had trampled her confidence and energy.
“I’m here to escort you to your new room assignment.”
Marissa never had a chance to walk near a computer registry, so it should have been impossible for anyone to know which apartment she was switching to.
“Excuse me?” Summoning as much vigor as possible, Marissa raised her slumped shoulders and folded her arms across her chest. “Why would I go anywhere with you? I don’t even know who you are, which means I’m not moving from this spot. And when I do, I’m still not following you.”
In response to her gruff tone, the goliath stiffened his wide body. He grazed over her face with a mean counter-glare.
“Under international authority of the GEA, you are required to accompany me, ma’am.”
Marissa narrowed her eyes at the swollen storm trooper, but pinched her lips tight. Before last night, she had never heard of this shadowy bureau and had no idea what kind of powers they were privileged to. For now, she would have to yield to this outrageous harassment. However, as soon as dawn touched the skyline, the furious woman would be on the net researching how to file a complaint with the US embassy.
“Fine,” she hissed, “Lead the way, Commando.”
PART FOUR
~G~
Flashpoint
Chapter Eleven
Closer
The armed guard escorted Marissa to the elevator in silence. He didn’t step an inch away from her side until they reached the door to one of the private penthouse suites on the thirtieth floor. Standing in the hallway, next to the doorway, was another man who was equally as large and intimidating. The second soldier was also suited up in the same black ops uniform. On approach, the two men wordlessly acknowledged each other with a sharp brow solute.
Marissa’s shadow pulled a white keycard from his upper vest pock
et and swiped it along the digital lock. Once the dial buzzed green, the magnetic bolt released. After the guard twisted the knob and pushed the door open, he moved no further, never crossing the entryway. Marissa, on the other hand, stumbled her limp body over the threshold in search of rest and solace on a comfortable bed.
When her red-rimmed eyes spotted the serene eggshell accents of the luxurious space ahead, her weakened form drooped even more. The soft medley of a symphony orchestra floated out from the speakers embedded in the suite’s walls. The gentle music danced in the woman’s ears and soothed her tired mind. Without further delay, Marissa kicked off the high-heeled sandals, allowing the cramped shoes to fly in whatever direction gravity carried them to. The feeling of her aching feet sinking deep into the plush carpet was heavenly.
Marissa angled her strained form to shut the door, but a hard hand halted the motion. Her eyes drifted up slowly and she almost pleaded with the man to leave her in peace.
“We will be stationed here for the remainder of your stay,” the man barked out. Marissa responded with a sleepy nod. “If you need anything, let us know. We would prefer if you didn’t talk to anyone else until our unit leader gives the okay.”
One more frail dip of her head was the most she could manage before Marissa shut the door to the outside world. If her bodyguard planned to give her more rules to follow, he would have to wait until she was fully rested and revived.
As Marissa reached the edge of the king-sized bed, a new sound roused her senses from their dreamlike state. The heavy spray of a waterspout called the drowsy woman’s attention to the fact that there was steam floating from the bathroom at the back of the penthouse. There was also a pile of clothes spread out on the floor near the tiled room. The instant her sight landed on the crumpled clothing, Marissa gasped. She immediately recognized the men’s formal wear. Fumbling backwards, she tripped over the shoes on the floor behind her. Escape was her only thought as the fleeing woman stumbled closer toward the front door. In the background, the water pressure eased down to a tiny trickle. As soon as Marissa’s trembling hands clutched the doorknob, a familiar accent – a tormenting echo that had once been like a sweet serenade – filled her ears.
“Marissa…stop,” Marco’s voice called out to her. “Please allow me to explain.”
Marissa was frozen in place; frigid shock stunned her body. The deceptive man had used his authority and influence to lure her to his room.
“Marissa, look at me…per favore…please.”
No, she said the refusal in her mind, but could not summon the strength to breathe life into the word. She had been humiliated more than enough for one lifetime and did not want to fall victim to any more treacherous lies.
Although her lips would not obey her command, Marissa’s body held its position and would not satisfy Marcello’s request to face him. The soft thud of bare feet walking across the carpet touched her ears. He paused unbearably close to her. The steam heat rolling off his wet body pushed against her back. Hot streams of air poured from Marcello’s nose and spilled over Marissa’s bare shoulders. She quivered then clenched the knob tighter between her palms. He stepped closer, only a fraction of space separated their two bodies. Two broad hands came forward and cupped Marissa’s slim shoulders.
Don’t, her mind whimpered. Don’t touch me ever again, was her timid thought, yet no sound escaped her throat.
Marco used his gentle strength to carefully draw her toward him. When her back pressed into his slick and naked chest, every ounce of stubbornness slipped from her grip and Marissa collapsed into his powerful embrace. As her limp body, exhausted beyond measure from a confusing whirlwind of emotions and stresses, dropped to the floor, Marco scooped her up into his mighty arms. Right away, whether Marissa had intended to do so or not, her weak limbs curled up against his rigid physique. She buried her face between the hard ridges separating his stiff U-shaped muscles.
“I thought you were...falling in love with me,” she whispered into his skin. “Was I wrong?”
If a reply was spoken, Marissa never heard it. A cloak of black sleep slipped over her consciousness. The weary woman had finally succumbed to the call of an intense slumber.
Marco’s light blue eyes followed the trail of the orange-tinted sun as it climbed high into the lavender sky hanging beyond the balcony window. While he watched dawn break over the city, his mind slowly retraced the events of the previous evening.
A night that started with fantasies of love and romance had ended with tragedy and mayhem. Once Marco finished questioning the hotel’s manager, he had the beady-eyed man named Schaeffer assign him a new suite. Since his first residence was now an official crime scene, the exhausted man could not return to that room. When the agent was still at the police station, word had reached him about Marissa’s apartment being ransacked. He immediately sent orders for his team to find her and escort her directly to this new residence. There was no conclusive evidence to tie the burglary at the apartment to Katerina’s murder; even so, Marco was determined to keep Marissa safe from the invisible menace lurking nearby. She would only be secure when she was by his side, where he could protect her at all times.
The small woman Marcello was holding like a precious doll shifted on top of him. He wrapped his long arms around his woman and gathered her closer. Her soft and supple skin pressed harder into his bare flesh, stirring up an immense hunger deep inside of the man’s flat stomach. He glanced down and watched Marissa’s dozing eyes twitch. While she slept soundly on the wide space of his chest, he brushed his palm across her toasty cheek and combed his fingers through her dark auburn hair. When he twisted a lock of the sleek strands around his finger and looped it around her petite ear, she stirred again. The sensation of her taut nipples grazing his hot skin sent an urgent shiver through Marcello’s loins, causing his manhood to stiffen. The sweet sigh that slipped from the woman’s tiny nostrils drove his arousal even further toward an aching point.
Marcello was tempted to pull Marissa from her sleep with a burning kiss, but satisfied himself with a taste of her cinnamon brow instead. The moment his lips teased the top of her cherub face, a tickle from fluttering eyelashes floated across his pec. Marissa’s face darted up and her eyes flew open wide. A short gasp parted the silent air and her body tensed. She pushed herself out of his hold then started a back-peddle toward the opposite side of the spacious bed, pulling the crispy sheets along with her. The woman heaved them up to her chin and covered the curve of her breasts with her elbows.
“What is this?” She gripped the sheets tighter. “Why are we in bed together?”
Marcello motioned his hand forward to try to calm her, but Marissa shrugged away from his touch and moved toward the extreme edge of the mattress.
“Marissa, nothing happened,” he said in a soothing tone.
“Then why am I naked?” Her bright hazel eyes scurried over his naked form. “Why did you trick me into coming here?”
“I did not trick you, amore. I wanted to protect you. I was told of what occurred at your apartment, and I wanted to make sure you were kept safe.” Marco reached for Marissa again, carefully laying his thick fingers at the soft curve of her shoulder. This time she didn’t move, but a troubled expression clung to her pretty face. “A few hours ago, you were so exhausted that you collapsed into my arms. I was also very weary, so we rested together in silence. That is all...I promise.”
Marco stroked her skin soothingly. He was hoping his words had succeeded in calming her fear of him. Her eyes flicked away, as if she were thinking. He assumed she was trying to determine if the details he had told her matched her own memory of the events. After a minute, Marissa glanced at him again. A layer of anxiety lifted from her face and her hunched shoulders relaxed, but doubts remained floating in her eyes.
“That still doesn’t explain what happened to my clothes.”
“I wanted you to sleep well. I slipped your dress off and laid you on the other side of the bed. When I awoke a few minutes ag
o, you were nestled in my arms.” As he continued, Marco cupped her delicate face. “And I was happy to have you so close to me. Since the very beginning, it has been my wish for us to hold one another this way.”
“You don’t have to lie anymore.” Marissa’s voice trailed off into a half whisper. Hurt filled her words. “And you don’t have to watch over me, I can take care of myself.”
Marco lifted her chin so that his lady would see the sincerity in his soft gaze.
“Bella signora, I never lied to you.” He brushed her cheek tenderly with his palm. “The first time I saw your photo, Marissa, I was mesmerized. The first time we spoke, my heart already belonged to you. The first time I pulled your beautiful body close to my chest, I knew I never wanted to let go of you, amore.”
Marissa’s glistening irises flooded with affection, yet something still restrained her love.
“Katerina…did you…love her too?”
Marcello swallowed hard. Although his fingers lingered on Marissa’s skin, he eased his body away slightly. This was a story he did not want to relive; nevertheless, to win Marissa’s heart, he would bare his soul to her.
“No, I did not...not in the way you are thinking. Ever since we were teenagers, she has always been in love with my brother. They were inseparable, following each other anywhere and everywhere. We all attended university together, and even enlisted in my country’s special forces together. As time went on, and as our missions became more stressful, I began to drift further away from them. Katerina developed an insane thirst for wealth and my brother became consumed by an uncontrollable bloodlust. Simply for sport, he began to kill unnecessary targets, and Katerina blindly obeyed his every command. One year ago, during an operation in Central America, we were ambushed. My brother died instantly, but I was able to escape with Katerina. She kicked and screamed the entire time, fighting to go back for his body.”