by Foster, Lori
Joe shrugged. Along with not wearing a name tag, he refused to dress up for his bogus job, preferring to stick with jeans and T-shirts and boots so scuffed they had to be ten years old. His hair was too long, his earring too damn noticeable, more often than not he forgot or refused to shave—and the female customers adored him. It was a good thing Joe didn’t know anything about computers, or he’d likely have accepted some of the inquiries on home service.
“Your place is busier than I expected.” He clapped Zane on the shoulder. “You run a helluva business, cousin. I’m impressed.”
Zane sliced his hand through the air, dismissing the compliment in favor of hearing more important news. “What did you find out?”
Propping his hip on the counter next to the cash register, Joe retrieved a knife from his pocket. He flicked it open, then closed—an annoying habit he had. “Boris is married.”
Of all the things Zane had expected, that wasn’t anywhere on the list. “No shit? The bastard has a wife?”
“A wealthy wife. Not that Boris comes from a poor background. His family was well-to-do, but lost a lot in the last ten years or so. I gather he married as a way to restore the family financial standing.”
Pacing, Zane muttered, “This is incredible.”
“And he’s not from Romania, as he supposedly told Tamara’s uncle, but his wife is. Very Old World. Her family dates back to some impressive and influential names.”
I’ll kill him, was Zane’s immediate thought. But first he had to find out what Boris wanted with Tamara. Then he could work him over. He flexed his hands, imagining them around Boris’s thick neck. “What do you think he’s up to?”
“Can’t tell you that, but I can tell you that his wife’s family is not the type who’d take kindly to news of his activities.” Joe flipped the knife open again, polished the blade along the denim on his left thigh, and held it up to the fluorescent lights to admire the shine. “If they knew he’d been sniffing after another woman, the proverbial crapola would hit the fan.”
“You’re sure he and his wife aren’t separated?”
“Nope. I could find no mention of it, and this isn’t the type of family who puts up with separation.” He closed the knife and slid it back into his pocket. Hopping off the counter, he crossed his arms and said, “You marry, you stay married. Finito.”
“I’ve got a really bad feeling about this.”
“Rightfully so. It proves without a doubt that you’re dead-on, that Boris is unprincipled to say the least, and up to something sinister at the most.”
“He’s going to be seeing her again today.” And Zane intended to be there. Damn, at least now he had something solid to use against Boris. Surely this would make her relatives detest him as much as Zane did.
“Yeah, well, I’d put an end to that real quick.”
Zane flashed Joe an irritated glance. “I tried reasoning with her. She’s convinced that as long as Boris is minding his manners and paying for her time, she should indulge her relatives by pretending to give him an opportunity to woo her.”
Joe shook his head in a pitying way.
Because his attitude mirrored Zane’s own, there wasn’t much he could say.
Of course, that didn’t stop Joe. “You should know better than to attempt to reason with the female brain, Zane. Take the guy aside, break his nose, make him understand that he’s to get lost and stay lost.” Joe cracked his knuckles. “And if you’re not up to it, I’m game.”
It was no less than what Zane wanted to do, but he found himself laughing. “You’ve become a bloodthirsty cynic, you know that? Besides, this isn’t the Stone Age. Women are allowed their own thoughts and choices.”
“More’s the pity.” Joe shook his head. “If I was ever gullible enough to fall in love—which is doubtful—it’d damn sure be with a woman who knew how to listen.”
Before Zane could react to that by knocking Joe on his ass, a laugh sounded behind them. They both turned, and found Cole and Chase standing there. Chase pointed at Joe. “You’re going to eat those words one day.”
Cole nodded. “I just hope I’m around to see it.”
“Not me.” Zane hefted a box of keyboards and carried it to an empty shelf. “I don’t want to be anywhere around. It’s a bitch to get blood out of clothes, and it’s for certain, the woman in question would flay him alive.”
Totally unconcerned, Joe laughed. “What are you two rogues doing wandering loose today? Where are your little ladies?”
Zane knew Joe had spent quite a bit of time visiting with Cole and Chase at the bar. Mack and Jessica had gone there several nights to join in. They all got along well, and Mack had laughed, explaining how the women at the bar had doted on Joe. Zane didn’t care how many women chased him, as long as he didn’t go after Tamara.
“Actually,” Cole said—and Zane felt his brother’s gaze boring into him—“our wives are visiting Tamara, along with Mack.”
Zane dropped the box as he spun around. “What?”
“Yep. Sophie was pretty annoyed that you hadn’t brought her around to meet the family yet, and she got Jessica and Allison all riled, and like a female militant group, they headed off. We decided to follow along just for the hell of it.”
Zane marched to the window and looked out. It was quiet in front of the Gypsy shop now, no more customers standing around. Were they all inside already? What would his darling sisters-in-law say about him?
Since marrying into the family, they’d taunted him endlessly for his bachelor ways, his overindulgence in female attention. And Zane had encouraged them by being more outrageous than ever. He enjoyed his sisters-in-law and loved bantering with them.
Would they blather on to Tamara about his disreputable ways?
Damn, he didn’t want the fragile bond he’d forged with Tamara disrupted. She’d forgiven him for his outburst with her relatives, especially considering they’d paid heed to him and had quit pressuring her about the damn wig and dark contacts. If anything, they were doubly pleased that she could attract so much attention without artificial devices.
She’d also quit pushing him away at every turn. He wouldn’t go so far as to say she’d accepted his help graciously. But she’d only frowned a little when he installed the spotlight and aimed it her way. She’d complained that it’d shine in her bedroom window at night.
Zane remembered her slow smile when he’d told her that he liked being able to see her clearly when they were in bed together. She trusted him with her body; she was beginning to trust him with her pride. Soon, she’d trust him with her heart.
He said abruptly, uncaring who paid heed, “Watch the place for me,” and headed for the door. He had to get over there to make certain no one got her thinking too hard on his less sterling qualities.
Cole laughed and met him at the door. “Not me! If you’re running over there, so am I.”
“Why?”
“To watch, of course.”
“Me too,” Chase added, hot on their heels.
Zane stopped, frustrated, wondering what his customers would think if he simply locked his door for a few hours.
Leaning against a wall, Joe stretched and put his arms behind his head. “Go on, Zane. You can leave everything to me.”
Appalled by the idea, Zane said, “You’ve got to be kidding.”
Cole and Chase caught his arms and started out, dragging Zane backward. “Joe will do fine.”
“Ha!”
“Do you want to visit Tamara or not?”
Joe stood there, utterly confident as usual. He even went so far as to grin. “No need to thank me, Zane. You know I’m always glad to help out. But send over some lunch, will ya? I’m starved.”
“We’ll see to it,” Cole assured him. “It’s the least Zane can do.”
Zane considered knocking his brothers’ heads together, but then he thought of Tamara getting her ears filled, and he relented. “At least let me walk in under my own steam.”
They released him,
but not without a few more good-natured jibes. Considering how he’d riled them when they were falling in love, Zane figured he had it coming.
They marched next door, and Cole’s long stride suited Zane’s impatience just fine.
In an offhand voice, Chase asked, “Ready to give in to the Winston curse yet?”
Zane reached Tamara’s door with the gaudy painted sign and flashing light. He turned the knob. “I gave in two weeks ago, if you want the gory details. Now I just need her to succumb.” He walked into the foyer with the sound of Chase’s and Cole’s boisterous laughter behind him. Damn fools. Didn’t they understand that this was serious stuff?
His female relatives were clustered around the counter when he entered. Mack stood close by, holding his wife in front of him, and they had Tamara encircled. The music from the CD player had been turned low to allow for easy conversation.
Smiling, flushed with pleasure and unrestrained laughter, Tamara was a sight to steal his breath. Today she had her hair pulled back on one side with an enamel comb. Dangling earrings brushed her shoulders. She still wore the enticing, flirty jewelry and sexy, flowing skirts. But her makeup was different, subtle, her lips a glossy peach instead of bright red, her long lashes dusty brown rather than inky black.
He liked seeing her like this, a part of his family, a part of his life.
Chase and Cole shoved past him, nearly knocking him over.
Jessica noticed them first, and she turned her big chocolate brown eyes on Zane.
Oh hell, he thought, and braced himself for a raucous joke of some kind that would undermine all the progress he’d made with Tamara. Instead, Jessica winked, then looked over her shoulder at Mack. His doting brother kissed her temple.
Allison, still laughing, turned and held out a hand to Chase. He went to her without missing a step. Those two, it often seemed, spoke on some private plane that no one else could hear. Zane had always thought it a little strange, but now he envied them their rapport.
Cole didn’t wait for an invite. He strode forward and looped his arms around Sophie’s waist, settling his big hands on her still-flat belly with paternal affection. Sophie positively glowed.
Zane swallowed a lump. Damn, he wanted what they all had. He hadn’t at first, only because he hadn’t fully understood the completeness of it, the depth of emotion. He knew they were happy, knew marriage suited them, but he’d thought himself different, thought he needed more time to enjoy life and his freedom. He was a real dumb ass on occasion.
Tamara looked up and her beautiful green eyes lit at the sight of him. “Zane! I thought you were working.”
She separated herself from the group and came to him. Her smile was warm, and the bells on her ankles tinkled. She made his heart race, his pulse quicken. Aware of their amused audience, Zane restrained himself and indulged only in a light kiss.
Tamara stared up at him. “What’s wrong?” she asked in a soft whisper. “You’re fretting or something.”
Her ability to understand him no longer seemed threatening. In fact, he counted on it, so she’d know he was sincere in his declarations—when he got around to declaring himself.
“I missed you,” he murmured.
He heard Chase snort. “More like he felt compelled to come here and defend his honor.”
Bemused, Tamara asked, “Defend your honor from what?”
“Not what,” Cole said, ignoring his wife’s attempts to hush him, “but who. Our wives do like to give him a hard time.”
Sophie elbowed Cole hard enough to make him grunt. “That’s not true! We adore Zane.”
Mack, ignoring his sister-in-law, added, “Blissfully content married women refuse to believe that any man can be happy without a wife to keep him that way.”
Looking like an imp, Jessica said, “But Zane’s so sexy and sweet. He can’t help but attract scores of women.” Mack promptly growled, attacking her neck in a tender assault that had her laughing. She amended her statement, “But not as sexy as Mack! No way!”
Allison peered over the top of her glasses and addressed the assembled group. “Chase is by far the sexiest, but that’s beside the point. We all adore Zane and want nothing more than to see him ... happy.”
Wondering if he should strangle the lot of them, Zane snarled, “Then you should be deliriously satisfied, because I am happy.” At least he would be if they didn’t scare her off.
To his surprise, Tamara sighed. “It must be wonderful to have such a large family.”
Damn, there she went again, ripping his guts out.
Cole asked, “Was it lonely growing up alone?”
Just then a door opened and the black curtain moved. Luna and Aunt Olga stepped out, two clients behind them.
Tamara smiled at her aunt. “I had my aunts and uncle to keep me company.”
Olga grinned at her, then sent an “I-told-you-we-loved-her” look toward Zane.
He ground his teeth together, but no one noticed with the buzz of the two clients setting future appointments and saying their good-byes.
Zane had a few moments to consider Olga’s continued aloofness toward him. She was still a little ticked, but she had obviously listened. All three of Tamara’s relatives now appeared to support her more, encouraging her in her uniqueness. They even claimed to like Zane well enough, yet they forever sang their litany of praises for Boris.
He forced himself to smile at Olga now. “It’s nice to see you again, Olga.”
“I’m working today,” she informed him loftily. “We decided Tamara needed more help, especially with all the added business.” Her pointy chin went into the air, her black eyes challenging. “And I wanted to give her some time off. She deserves it.”
Zane looked down at Tamara in time to see her grin. “It’s true,” she said. “They’ve been wonderful.”
Luna, looking as outrageously delicious as ever with her golden brown eyes alight and her mink-colored hair loose, said, “She even has time for lunch.” Then she winked. “Of course, your relatives have already claimed her, and invited the others to join them.”
Zane was curious as to what others, when the door chimed and Thanos and Eva walked in. He’d wanted a few minutes alone with Tamara to talk to her about Boris. Once she knew the scoundrel was married, she’d surely tell her relatives and they’d quickly toss him off the prospective beau list. But now it looked as though he wouldn’t have a chance, not with his brothers and sisters-in-law organizing a damn tea party.
Introductions were made. Olga and Luna volunteered to stay behind and watch the shop in case anyone dropped in, and the rest prepared to go up to Tamara’s home to dine. Zane remembered Joe and his request for food. He whispered to Tamara that he had to feed him, and Luna overheard.
Zane wondered if Luna had super powers, because it seemed the softer he spoke, the more clearly she understood him.
“A new assistant, Zane?” she asked.
Though he’d told Tamara to keep Joe’s identity secret, he had half-expected her to confide in Luna anyway. He was pleased that she hadn’t. “Yes, just hired in the last few weeks.”
Luna’s lips curled with feminine curiosity. “I’m going to run out to the deli. Want me to stop over there and see what he wants?”
Zane already knew what Joe would want from Luna, but if ever there was a woman who could hold her own, it was Luna Clark. He smiled, very pleased at the prospect, and said, “That’d be great. Thanks.”
She gave him a suspicious look, but smiled. “No problem.”
Zane expected to order pizza for their lunch, but he wasn’t overly surprised to see his sisters-in-law had taken care of it. The feast they supplied was more like dinner than lunch, with carry-out fried chicken, potato salad, biscuits and honey, and a chocolate cake for dessert. They refused to let Tamara do a thing—other than her job. They wanted to know their horoscopes, have their palms read, and Sophie even asked if Tamara could tell her the sex of her baby.
Sitting close beside Zane, Tamara laughed. “
I can’t predict the future. All I can tell you is that you don’t really care if it’s a boy or a girl, you just want a healthy baby.”
Astonished, Sophie stared at Tamara and said with awe, “How did you know?”
“You’re the type of woman who loves with all her heart. That doesn’t leave room for conditions. Besides, you now have a son, and Allison has a daughter, and you’re content with that mix.”
There were murmured agreements among Zane’s relatives as to Tamara’s accuracy, and prideful boasts by Tamara’s relatives for the same reason.
Excited, Sophie stuck out her hand. “And my palm? What does that tell you?”
Tamara studied her hand. She glanced at Zane, then around the room, before tilting her head at Sophie again. “This won’t embarrass you?”
Nonplussed by the question, Sophie drew back. “Am I going to be found lacking?”
“Of course not.” Tamara inhaled, then lightly traced a fingertip over the very base of each of Sophie’s fingers, where they met with her palm. “This is the E zone. You see how this area is plumper and softer than the other areas of your fingers? Well, that means you’re a person who loves to touch, and especially loves the pleasures of the body.”
Cole choked on his raspberry tea. Sophie gave a twittering, pleased, but self-conscious laugh.
In typical brotherly fashion, Mack and Chase saluted Cole.
“You work in a boutique, right?”
Sophie nodded, wide-eyed.
“That’s a little unusual. Generally speaking, a woman with hands like yours would be more likely to be a massage therapist or have some other type of physical contact work.”
Cole said, “Well, she does like to—omphf.”
Sophie glared at him, and in a stage whisper said, “That is private, Cole Winston.”
He laughed, set down his glass, and scooped her into his lap. “All right, sweetheart.”
Since they were all used to Cole cuddling Sophie, most especially when she was pregnant, the brothers and their wives ignored them. Thanos and Eva, however, along with Tamara, couldn’t help but smile at their affectionate display.