by Girard, Dara
Noreen stared at him for a moment. He looked comfortable and content as if he’d meant every word. She sat down at her table then turned to her work, hiding a smile. Mr. Smith was definitely wrong. She wouldn’t be going to bed alone.
Chapter Thirteen
Clyde Harris stubbed out his cigarette in a quick, definite motion before lighting another one. His recent call to Arlene bothered him, but not as much as the message he’d received. Someone didn’t trust her and had let him know.
That annoyed him. He’d groomed Arlene well and chosen her with care. Her connection to Obsidian had been a plus. She was loyal and obedient. He’d even considered marriage. His wife, dead for years now, had been a great companion in both business and the bedroom and he had hoped to have Arlene fill the same position. With her sweet smile she could charm as well as his poor wife had. Although it would take a few more years to give Arlene the sophisticated polish his darling had.
He took a long drag of his cigarette and thought about his wife. He no longer felt any sorrow, but a deep regret. Her death had been unfortunate, but she’d forgotten the dangerous game they were playing. Mistakes were costly and she’d paid the ultimate price. He stared with pride down at the lights of the city below his apartment window. He remembered being a little boy growing up in Brooklyn. He hadn’t had a view then because there hadn’t been any windows. He, his brother and mother had lived in a damp basement apartment that belonged to a woman who made his mother wash and iron all the clothes for her large family in exchange for rent. He remembered having to go to sleep to the sound of the spinning washing machine that knocked against the wall, and how the dryer would turn the room into a sauna.
He’d been surrounded by ugliness: the chipping paint haphazardly applied to the concrete walls, the makeshift kitchen, frayed rugs and worn bedsheets. He’d stared up at the ceiling one day, vowing that he’d live better when he grew up. He knew he’d been meant for better things, like fine new clothes instead of leftovers from some rich person’s closet that had either gotten stained or gone out of fashion.
He’d been meant for good food instead of the mush that came out of a can that his mother forced him to eat. He’d despised the woman. She’d had no aspirations and was a haggard, unattractive woman who didn’t know how to dress or style her hair. He hadn’t blamed his father for leaving her. He would have left her too and eventually did when he was fifteen and felt free to take charge of his own destiny. A destiny filled with beautiful things.
He’d soon learned that destiny was something one had to fight for. Hard work didn’t equal great gain. He’d taken many jobs and none of them had gotten him even close to the lifestyle he deserved, so he did the only thing he knew would work.
He’d known the upper classes weren’t going to let him in, so he’d forced his way in without them even suspecting it. He’d refined his manners, his clothes and his strategy. He’d made sure to mingle with people of influence and make connections that would prove beneficial in the future. That’s when his dear wife, Elle, had entered his life and changed it. She’d grown up in a world he’d been on the outside of, and she’d let him in.
Together they’d created a business that still couldn’t be rivaled. He looked around his stylish apartment, at the culmination of all his dreams. It was his sanctuary. He’d never invited anyone there. He had another residence he used for show, but this place was for him alone. But he knew he was getting older and couldn’t keep going at the pace he had in the past. He wanted companionship and Arlene suited him. She was young and malleable and eager to please. He could teach her and mold her into anything he wanted.
He didn’t want to believe the message. He knew she could be foolish sometimes, but not careless. He would have to find out the situation for himself.
The next day Michael and Noreen were inseparable as they tried out several of the cruise ship’s many activities. In the morning, Noreen made a bet with Michael that she could scale the onboard climbing wall. Unfortunately, she selected the most difficult challenge, and by the time she got to the top, she froze and had to have one of the crew help bring her down.
She hugged her rescuer in gratitude. “Will you marry me?”
He laughed as he released her safely back on the ground.
Michael came up behind her and rested a hand on her shoulder. “I could have rescued you.”
She glared at him. “You were too busy laughing at me.”
“I would have rescued you after I’d stopped laughing.”
Noreen stuck her tongue out at him and marched off to change.
“I have a special place for us to have lunch,” Michael said after they’d returned their climbing gear.
“Really? Where? Is it the Coco Lounge?” Noreen asked, thinking of the expensive restaurant on the ship.
He stopped in front of the elevators. “No, it’s more exclusive.”
“Then let’s go.”
He took out a bandana. “But you have to close your eyes.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s a surprise.”
“If I wear that, people will look at me.”
“You won’t even notice. Do you trust me?”
Noreen thought about the great time they’d had on St. Barnaby. She’d taken a risk then, why not now? “Definitely.”
“Good,” he said then tied on the bandana and then waved his hand in front of her face. “No peeking.”
“I won’t.”
Michael took Noreen’s hand then led her into the elevator. They went up together in the elevator and then she followed him down a long hall. She heard a couple chatting and wind sweeping over a lounge chair and felt the warmth of the hot afternoon sun. Michael suddenly stopped and she heard a door open.
“Okay,” he said. “Now you can look.”
Noreen took off her blindfold and stared in amazement at Michael’s grand suite, which had a large bouquet of red and white roses on the center table and a two-tier tray of delicious tarts and cookies off to the side. She sat down in an overstuffed side chair. “Oh, this is nice.”
Michael closed the door behind him. “No, you’re not supposed to sit there.”
Noreen stared at him, confused. “Why not?”
He lifted her up in his arms and carried her over to the bed. “Because the last time you were here, you took care of me.” He gently set her down. “Now it’s my turn to take care of you.” He took off her shoes.
Noreen grinned and got under the sheets, relishing the feel of the satin sheets and plush pillows. “Oh, this sounds like fun. The first time I was in here I’d wondered what it would be like to be in your bed.” She pulled the sheets up to her chin. “Oooh, it feels so good.” She stopped when she noticed him studying her. “What?”
He sat on the edge of the bed, a faint smile on his lips. “For a second I knew what you looked like as a little girl.”
Noreen let the sheets fall and winked. “But I’m not a little girl anymore.”
Michael’s expression grew serious. “Do you know how old I am?”
She leaned forward. “Ask me if I care,” she whispered against his lips before she kissed him. She drew back and rested her hands on her lap. “Now what comes next?”
Michael placed a hand against her neck, looking pensive. “Your fever has gone down.”
Noreen frowned. “My fever?”
“Yes, you were running a fever when I found you on the beach.”
She raised her brows. “You found me on the beach?”
He nodded. “Yes. You were unconscious and I brought you back here.”
Noreen grinned, enjoying the game of make-believe. “So you rescued me.”
“Yes, you were hesitant at first, but then I finally convinced you to let me help you.”
“I’m sure it didn’t take you long to convince me.”
His jaw twitched. “Longer than I’d wanted.”
“Next time I won’t argue.”
“Promise?”
“Of course,�
�� Noreen said, surprised he was so intense when they were just pretending. She suddenly grabbed the front of her shirt. “Oh, no.”
Michael started. “What?”
“I feel faint. I need some food.”
He laughed and stood. “I’ll get it for you.” He arranged a bed tray then rested it on her lap.
Noreen stared down at several spicy crabcakes, asparagus and rice pilaf. “This looks wonderful. You didn’t have to do all this. Mmm, it’s delicious.”
“I didn’t cook it.”
“I didn’t think you did.” She patted the space beside her. “There’s enough room for both of us.”
Michael sat on the bed and rested his arm behind her. “Eat up.”
Noreen glanced at him, concerned. “Aren’t you going to eat anything?”
He shook his head. “I’m not hungry.”
“But I can’t eat all this wonderful food while you just sit there.” She scooped up some of the crabmeat then held it out to him. “Just take one bite.”
He shook his head again, this time with a smile. “No, that’s not how it works. I’m supposed to be taking care of you.”
“We can take care of each other. Come on.”
Michael stared at her for a long moment with the same sense of wonder he’d had when they’d first met, then he took a bite.
“Did you like it?”
“Yes, it’s good.” He gently stroked her cheek. “Now eat the rest for me. I’ll eat something later.” He turned away and flipped on the TV before she could argue. She sensed something was wrong, but couldn’t decide what. He didn’t seem in the mood to talk so Noreen ate in silence, stealing glances at his stoic profile. She wanted to tell him how much she loved him; that no one had thought to take care of her. She’d never had someone to rely on or to go to with her fears. But although she had so much to say, no words came to her and the silence continued to linger. When she was finished eating, Noreen leaned against him, wondering if he’d even realized she was there. Her uneasiness slipped away when his arm fell to her shoulders and he drew her closer to him.
To her relief, he agreed to share dessert with her and they enjoyed the tarts and cookies before Michael set their empty plates outside the door. He joined her back in bed, but although she was up to an amorous encounter, he just held her close. Noreen didn’t ask any questions and soon drifted off into sleep.
In the evening, they decided to visit one of the nightspots. The cruise had fantastic entertainment, with a mix of large, pulsating spaces as well as smaller intimate venues, which kept the ship busy every night. Michael decided he wanted to take in one of the variety shows in the large amphitheater and the late-night comedy show. Noreen enjoyed herself, but sensed Michael was edgy. When she asked him, he told her he was fine.
“Do you have any plans for the holidays?” Michael asked her as they walked hand in hand along the deck. They enjoyed the starry moonlit sky above as a soft, salty breeze passed them, warm and fragrant.
“Not really.”
“You won’t be with Clyde?”
Clyde. She’d forgotten about him. She wished Michael would do the same. “I don’t know. We haven’t made plans.”
“A friend of mine invited me over. He’s in North Carolina.”
“I see.”
Michael stopped walking and looked at her. “You don’t want me to come and visit, do you?”
“No, it’s not that,” Noreen said before she could stop herself. It was partly that, but also something more. The problem was once their time together was over, she’d be Noreen again. She squeezed his hand. “It’s my sister.”
“You don’t think she’ll like me?”
She’ll love you. “Right now you’ll be hard to explain.” She moved her shoulders in an impatient manner as if to rid herself of the worry. “But let’s not think about the future right now. I bought you something.”
“When?”
“That’s my secret.” She rummaged in her handbag and pulled out a small teddy bear. “He’s no Saint Christopher,” she said, keeping her voice light in case he thought the gift was childish, “but he can keep you company.”
Michael took the teddy bear and studied it for a long moment. He drew in his lips then looked at her. “Why does this feel like we’re saying goodbye?”
Because she knew that they were. Tomorrow they would dock in St. Lagans and she would make the delivery. And she would have to come up with a good excuse not to be with him. She also knew that St. Lagans meant that their time together was coming to an end. After docking at the last island on the cruise, they would return to Miami and their separate lives.
“I don’t know,” she lied. “Do you like it?”
“Yes, I do,” he said, but his hard gaze belied his soft words.
Noreen brushed her lips against his, unable to answer the questions in his eyes. “I’m glad,” she said then took his hand and forced him to continue walking. She glanced up at the sky, wondering how she would be able to say goodbye.
Michael’s sleep was restless. There had been nights after Jen’s betrayal when he’d been unable to close his eyes without seeing her face. Tonight was one of those nights. He remembered the smile she’d given him before his world became a hazy blur. It was only later he realized she’d drugged him. “Gotcha,” was the last thing she’d said. She’d been one of his major assignments. A housewife trapped in an unhappy marriage, who wanted to sell some items to raise enough money to leave her husband.
He’d later learned it was all a scam. He had met Jenelle Alvarez when she had introduced herself as a friend of Darren’s deceased wife. Because of that connection, Michael hadn’t put up any of his usual defenses. She was a beautiful, passionate woman whom Michael found extremely attractive, but he did not act on his attraction. Sleeping with married women, no matter how miserable their current relationship, was a taboo for him—although at times she made it difficult to resist because she offered herself in ways that would have made it very easy for him to break that taboo. However, he was eager to establish himself so he decided to focus on business.
The antiques she had wanted to sell consisted of several rare manuscripts and paintings. She provided him with all the provenance information, confirming the authenticity of the items, and he found several private buyers and a museum. He sold the items for a total of 1.3 million. Three months after the sales, Michael woke up from a night he couldn’t remember with police at his door. One large piece, a rare sculpture by a renowned artist, had been reported stolen. Soon buyers began contacting him, complaining that the items were forgeries. By that time, Jen, along with her husband, had disappeared. Michael was to discover that her sad tale was just that. Her husband was a professional forger and con artist who ran a successful enterprise using blackmail, money laundering and more to make a living. He had created the documentation and worked with several skilled artists to create the items. Michael was able to trace the couple to an island, but without enough funds (to bribe officials) and because of the island’s laws against extradition, Michael found himself having to settle with each of the buyers, using his own money and borrowing from Darren, who hired a top-notch attorney to defend Michael against some angry VIPs who had unwittingly purchased the forgeries.
Jen had been his biggest failure and his greatest teacher. She’d taught him how women worked and how to manipulate them. She’d helped to harden his heart to never trust—her face loomed in his dream beautiful, haughty and cold. Then it melted away and he saw Arlene with her arms stretched out to him and they made passionate love.
Soon Michael’s body felt as if it could conquer the world. His body felt hard and aroused. He hadn’t had a dream like this since he was sixteen. He vaguely knew he had to wake up or he was going to come right there in the bed and he didn’t want to do that. He struggled to open his eyes, but he couldn’t move, the wet tunnel of pleasure embracing his most sacred part keeping him paralyzed and he climaxed, releasing his seed, his entire body trembling from the power
of it.
Then he felt the covers lift and Arlene peeked her head out. “You taste better than a lollipop.”
“That was you?”
“I wanted you to relax.”
Michael moaned then wrapped his arms around her. Her body was soft and warm. He held her close for more reasons than he could name. “I certainly will now,” he mumbled then drifted into a contented sleep, still holding her.
More than five hours later, Noreen woke up and slipped out of bed, careful not to wake him. She looked at the clock and realized she had the perfect opportunity to slip off the boat and make the delivery and be back by lunch.
Noreen crept over to her dresser and promptly stumbled over his shoes. She picked up one shoe, resisting the urge to throw it at him. Why couldn’t he just put them against the wall or in the closet instead of leaving them in the middle of the room? She glanced at him, relieved to see that he was still asleep. He was wonderful in so many other ways she could forgive him for this one flaw. Noreen picked up his shoes and put them out of the way then quickly changed. She then put the package to be delivered in her handbag.
Before leaving, Noreen went over to her table and grabbed a piece of paper out of her journal and wrote a brief message for Michael then left.
The day was overcast but that didn’t deter anyone from visiting the island and enjoying the many activities scheduled. Once she’d disembarked, Noreen stood off to the side, looked around and saw no one waiting for her. She rested against a short post and checked her watch.
“Come with me,” a familiar voice said.
Noreen looked up and saw Mr. Smith.
She shook her head. “I was told to wait here.”
“It’s only a few feet away. He doesn’t want to be seen.”
Noreen didn’t understand the man’s behavior. It seemed odd for the delivery of an antique ring. “No, he has to come to me.”
Mr. Smith swore. “Listen, lady, do you want this to go through or not?”
“I’m not going anywhere with you. If the client wants the package, he has to come to me.”