by A. C. Arthur
“So this is just about money to you?” Terrell asserted.
“What else would it be about? My job is to plan weddings, that’s what I do. Donald hired me to plan your mother’s wedding. Are you following me?”
“I’m following you.” And he didn’t like what she was revealing. “You don’t give a damn whether the people whose weddings you plan should be married or not. As long as they pay you, you plan the wedding.”
“It’s not up to me to judge who’s fit to be married. I don’t make those calls. If you ask me, everybody in their right mind should stay as far away from wedding bells as they possibly can. They’re just going to end up divorced anyway. But if they didn’t get married, I’d be out of a job.” Rolling her eyes, she unclasped her hands and swiped at a piece of lint on her jacket.
“So I guess you don’t plan on ever getting married?” Her statement had roused his growing curiosity where she was concerned.
“As a matter of fact, I don’t.” Watching him carefully, she waited a second for his response to that admission. He was probably thinking she’d never get an offer of marriage. When he didn’t respond she continued, “But my personal preference has nothing to do with my job, as I told you before. Nor does it have anything to do with you. So…”
“Just hear me out.” Holding up his hands in mock surrender, Terrell slid to the edge of his seat. “What if your mother were about to make the biggest mistake of her life? What if she were about to marry a man guilty of criminal acts?”
Her mother had made plenty of mistakes in her life and Leah was sure she’d continue to make them until her dying day. “Donald was cleared of all that drug suspicion a while ago. I thought I already told you that.”
He lifted a brow. So she had known. “No, you only mentioned an investigation. But this goes beyond the local police surveiling him for suspected drug activity.”
Now he had her attention. “How far beyond?”
“His drug activity isn’t just local, and his illegal activities have expanded over the years. His business was funded by some less than honest money.”
“So what? He’s making honest money now,” she said.
“Is he?” Terrell let the question hang in the air, watching as her mind began to click.
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that even though the local authorities dropped their charges against him, the Feds seem to still be pretty interested in him. I can’t help wondering why.”
Shaking her head, Leah stood. “I don’t care. I don’t want to hear anymore. This is none of my business. I’m just the…”
“You’re just the wedding planner. I know.” Terrell stood, quickly blocking her path to the door. “But I’m her son. And I owe it to her to protect her. If my information is true, my mother could be getting involved in something very dangerous.”
“Ms. Rosie knows all about the suspected drug activity. Hell, everybody in the shop knew. But like I said, Mr. Donald was cleared of all that. It’s in the past.” She took a deep breath. He wasn’t smiling, yet the look he gave her made her weak. Raw determination chiseled his features, giving him an air of danger, a hint of the unknown. “It still doesn’t have anything to do with me. It’s your mother. It’s your job to protect her, not mine. Why are you coming to me?” She was standing too close to him. She could smell his cologne, the strong male fragrance serenading her. She tried to back away but his hands grasped her shoulders and held her still.
“Because I don’t have anybody else to go to.” His admission, he realized, was the truth. “My mother speaks very highly of you. I suspect you two have a special bond, one that goes beyond stylist and client. I thought you’d want to protect her as well.” Somebody needed to protect him from the bewitching eyes that searched his face right now. She was trying to figure him out, to understand the man behind the glasses. He knew the look and only hoped that she’d see the right things.
In that moment she felt his strength, his impatience, his concern, and they all beckoned to her. Her first instinct was to calm him down, to assure him that all was well, to comfort him. “I do care about your mother, Terrell, more than you could possibly know. But she loves Donald very much. Maybe you should just leave it alone. Maybe these criminal dealings are in his past,” she told him. “And if not, maybe, just maybe…,” she continued when he would have interrupted her, “…your mother already knows about it.”
He hadn’t considered that. Not since the moment he’d heard the disturbing news had it occurred to him that the man could have told all of this to his mother and she had still agreed to marry him. Gut instinct told him that his mother would never marry a man she knew was breaking the law. Which meant she, like Leah, believed that all this was in Donald’s past. Terrell turned his back to her and walked across the room.
She felt a pulling in her stomach and couldn’t keep her feet from going after him. “I understand that you’re worried about her and it’s natural for you to want to protect her, but I honestly don’t see this as a way to do it. I mean, what are you going to do, waltz over there and say, ‘Hey mom, I’ve investigated your fiancé and he’s not what you think he is’? I don’t think she’d take that too kindly. And if it’s in his past it may not even matter to her now.” Folding her arms across her chest, Leah waited for him to turn around. He looked deflated. His shoulders slumped.
He was vulnerable, something she’d never anticipated where he was concerned. She wanted to touch him, to reach out and take him in her arms, to offer him some sort of security, but she didn’t know how.
Turning to face her, he stuffed his hands in his pockets. “What if it’s not just drug dealing?”
The question hung in the air for a moment. Leah watched him, noting his seriousness, noting his dedication to his mother and more importantly, noting his fear.
“What else is there?” She knew she shouldn’t have asked, knew she shouldn’t get involved, but he looked so lost and so completely miserable she didn’t know what else to do. If he needed someone to talk to, then it wouldn’t hurt anything to talk to him, she hoped.
“Murder.”
That simple word had her gasping. This was too much; this was beyond what she was prepared to deal with.
“Terrell, I really think this is just…” Shaking her head again, she couldn’t even finish her sentence. “I mean, what can you do? How do you even know this?” Her mind was swarming with thoughts and she couldn’t get them all out at once.
At that moment, Terrell could swear he’d never seen a woman as attractive as she was. Her hair was straight today, hanging down her back past her shoulders. She was tall and curvy. Even her legs were well shaped; he could see clear up to her thigh through the split in her skirt. Her breasts weren’t huge, but full and beckoning to be touched. She was worked up now, he could tell. She was rattling on and on, walking back and forth, her long arms moving dramatically as she talked, her eyes dancing busily. Maybe getting her involved wasn’t such a good idea, he thought as he found himself concentrating more and more on her instead of the situation at hand.
“Alright, alright. I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have told you. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Well, dammit, you’ve upset me now! How am I supposed to work with them knowing that there’s something strange going on?” Still pacing, she thought about the meeting she had scheduled with Donald and Rosie in two weeks.
“I’m sorry, just forget everything I said. I mean, I don’t have any proof.” All he had was the word of a very good private investigator and a written report with leads to check out. In fact, he planned to check those leads out just as soon as he left her.
“No proof,” she whispered, stopping suddenly, turning to find herself right smack in his face.
She grabbed his arm to keep from falling backward. He grabbed her by the waist to hold her steady. The contact caused an instant reaction. Speechless, they stood gaping at each other.
He lowered his head. Oh God, he was going
to kiss her! Leah panicked. Did she want him to kiss her? Of course she didn’t, that was stupid. But why wasn’t she moving? Why wasn’t she trying to stop him? Why was she standing there waiting, no, anticipating, the touch of his lips on hers?
Her lips looked so soft. He’d just touch them, just this once. It would be quick, nobody would mind. She wanted him to kiss her even though he knew she was seeing someone else. Her body responded to his, her curves molding perfectly to his body and his blood quickened. His hands at her hips he pulled her closer until her breasts rested enticingly against his chest.
In a moment he’d have his first taste of her. This was the moment he’d dreamed about all week.
Her palms burned at the warmth coming from where she was now splaying them on his chest. So this is what it’s like to want to be kissed. Licking her lips, she readied herself for the experience, thinking she could already hear bells ringing somewhere in the room. They were inches apart. She could feel his breath against her face.
The phone rang and they sprang apart like two guilty teenagers.
“I should get that,” Leah said quickly, not sure if she were thankful or irritated.
“No.”
The solitary word was spoken so softly and with such finality that had she not been wrapped in his arms she wouldn’t have heard it.
He didn’t give her a moment to argue before his mouth took control of hers. His tongue slowly traced the outline of her lips, familiarizing itself with the intoxicating feel of her. Leah melted in his arms, angling her head so that their mouths were perfectly connected. Each movement was slow, deliberate, as she opened her mouth to him, invited him inside.
The first stroke was gentle, tentative, the initial meeting. He drew back, tracing the outline of her teeth, accepting her small whimpers of delight.
He was leading the kiss, driving her mad with his slow torture. Her fingers dug into his shoulders and she waited restlessly for the complete assault.
Terrell sensed her urgency and felt raging desire swoop through his loins. His tongue delved inside her mouth again, seeking hers, wanting hers. He stroked her warm moistness, tasting all the sweetness he’d imagined would be there.
Her hands came around his neck, holding the back of his head, angling him to her complete pleasure. He squeezed her waist, let his hands drift downward until they rested on the curve of her butt. His breathing was erratic as their tongues dueled and fought for control. In a minute he was going to tear those clothes off her and prop her up on that desk, legs spread wide and waiting for him. That wouldn’t be good. Dammit, she’d distracted him again.
What was she doing? Enjoying the hell out of this kiss, that’s what. She would have never believed this type of passion, this raw strength and urgency lived inside this man—the man with the unreadable eyes and ill fitting glasses, the man who’d rather stare at computers than breathe. Yet here she was, standing in the middle of her office being tongued down by what she could only call a master. She’d never, ever, in all her years been kissed like this and for a moment wondered where he’d been all her life.
Then the incessant ringing of the phone on her desk disrupted the moment, and she pulled away.
Questions registered on each of their passion-filled faces as they stared for endless moments.
He spoke first. “I should go.”
“Yes, you should.”
Terrell grabbed his coat and headed for the door while she made her way to the desk to grab the phone.
* * *
At home Leah sat in her bed trying to erase the memory of Terrell holding her close. How could a man who seemed so simple, so predictable, yet so intense put so much fire, so much yearning into a single kiss? Oh, who was she kidding? The only thing simple about Terrell Pierce was that nonchalant look he gave on a regular basis. But beneath that quiet façade lay something totally different, and she’d be lying to herself—badly—if she said she wasn’t interested in finding out what that was.
Ever since their first meeting he’d moved her. There was no denying it now, there was something going on between them. Something that Leah didn’t want, mostly because she couldn’t understand it. On the one hand she had Leon—well, she really didn’t have him anymore since she’d given him his walking papers the other night—then there was Terrell. The contrast was staggering, from the arrogantly drop dead gorgeous man that any woman would kill to have to the more refined, boyishly good looking man that most women probably overlooked.
Terrell had something, some overwhelming quality that was calling to her, beckoning her to let her guard down and receive everything he had to offer. Was it his gentleness? When he’d touched her face and looked at her she’d felt like a delicate flower that he found entrancing. When he’d pulled her close to him, his large hands on her hips, she’d felt like the sexiest woman alive. When he’d kissed her, she’d melted in his arms, ready to give him whatever he wanted that would guarantee the continuance of such delectable torture.
But outside of the havoc he was wreaking on her personally, Terrell had too much going on. If what he was saying about Donald was true, his life was about to spin dangerously out of control. And she didn’t need that. Her mother’s life was drama enough for her. Still, she wondered how things would eventually turn out for him.
After incessantly changing channels she deduced that there was absolutely nothing on television tonight. Every month she wrote a check for fifty-seven dollars to pay for one hundred and twenty-two cable stations, and about three nights out of the month she actually watched something interesting on one of them. Annoyed, she hit the off button on the remote, tossed it onto her nightstand, and pulled the covers up to her neck, prepared to sleep.
A shrill ring echoed in the quiet room. Groaning, Leah realized that the telephone was quickly becoming her worst enemy, and she cursed Alexander Graham Bell for his damned bright idea. Snatching the phone off its cradle, she put it to her ear. It had better not be her mother.
“Hello,” she barked.
“Leah? It’s me, Terrell.”
Either the background noise or his cheap cell phone muddled his voice. Leah figured it was the latter, but that didn’t stop her heart from racing. “Terrell? What do you want? Do you know what time it is? And how did you get my home number?”
“Will you be quiet and listen to me?” he yelled. “I found something down here and I need you to meet me.”
“You found what? Where are you?” Sitting up in her bed, Leah glanced at the clock that now read twelve-fifteen.
“Damn, you should have been a detective. You ask a million questions!”
“If you don’t start answering some of them I’m going to hang this phone up.”
“I’m down at the Inner Harbor. I need you to meet me. I’ve got something on Donald.”
“So why do I have to meet you?” Pulling her knees up to her chest, she cradled the phone between her shoulder and her ear and wrapped her arms around her legs.
“Because I’m kind of on a stakeout and my…um, my car broke down.”
As intense and serious as his voice sounded, she couldn’t help laughing. “Whose car breaks down when they’re on a stakeout?”
Somehow he’d known she’d laugh at him, and was thoroughly embarrassed to have to call her. This definitely wasn’t winning him any cool points with her. “Just meet me in the parking lot across from The Gallery.”
“You’re insane.” Shaking her head, she contemplated what she should do. Even knowing that the smart thing to do would be to stay out of it, she debated going to help him. If he couldn’t even pull off a stakeout without something going wrong, he definitely needed help. But she wasn’t any more qualified than he was. Still, it was Terrell, and like it or not, she felt an overwhelming need to be with him—to help, of course. I mean, really, if a man is willing to go through this much for his mother, if he’s this dedicated to her, he’s got to be one hell of a man.
On the other hand, this wasn’t any of her concern. Her better jud
gment warned her to stay out of it, but she was wide-awake now, and there wasn’t anything on television.
“Leah? Are you there?”
“Yes, I’m here. Where did you think I went?” Rolling her eyes at the phone, she felt like strangling him.
“You’re supposed to be on your way down here.”
“Just hang up the damn phone. I’ll be there in a few minutes.” Hanging up her own phone, she tossed the covers to the side, willing herself not to think about what she was doing for fear she’d change her mind, and went to the closet to grab some jeans.
She should call Nikki, get some advice. No, Nikki had a big mouth. The whole shop would know by noon tomorrow, and then where would she be? Maybe if she could talk some sense into Terrell, get him to drop this whole silly notion of his, then she could get on with her job.
Searching the living room for her keys, she decided that was what she would do. When she reached him, she’d tell him that this was stupid and that he should just approach Donald like a man and ask him about the allegations. Like Donald was going to fess up to being a murderer, she thought cynically, if in fact that’s what he was. Terrell didn’t have any proof. He’d told her that much earlier. Then why was he on a stakeout? Lord, a stakeout, like he knew what the hell a stakeout was.
Spying her keys on the table by the door, Leah snatched them up, and tucking her jacket under her arm, left her apartment. Her apartment was on St. Paul Street, which was located in downtown Baltimore, about ten minutes from the Inner Harbor. Turning her car onto Pratt Street, she looked for the entrance to the parking lot across the street from The Gallery. The streets were almost empty except for a few people out and about enjoying Baltimore’s nightlife. Tall buildings, housing the bulk of the city’s prominent businesses, were mostly dark but for the occasional lights employees had left on.
She cursed herself as she drove through the streets, looking for the lunatic that she did not want to be attracted to.
The Gallery, a shopping mall connected to both a hotel and a parking lot, was closed at this time of night. Leah wondered if Terrell had meant the parking lot attached to the mall. But he’d said across the street. Downtown was flooded with parking lots, but luckily there was only one on that particular corner.