Protecting the Heiress

by Martha Kennerson

  * * *

  Francine walked into her apartment, wiping sweat from her brow. She had been determined not to let last night’s craziness interfere with her daily exercise routine. She went to her kitchen, removing the clip from her head and releasing her hair before retrieving a bottle of water from her refrigerator and putting it to her lips. Francine was halfway through her drink when she heard her iPad ringing; she was receiving a FaceTime call. She sat at the bar, pulled it open and waited for the connection. Francine smiled the moment she saw a ponytailed version of herself—only this one had hazel eyes.

  “Well, it’s about time you returned one of my many phone calls,” Francine said, while somehow both smiling and frowning.

  “Good morning to you, too, sis,” Felicia said.

  “It’s afternoon here, which reminds me—where the hell are you, Felicia?”

  Felicia stared at her sister and shook her head slowly.

  Francine sighed and smiled. “Sorry, sis.”

  Felicia gifted her sister with a wide smile. “I love and miss you, too,” she said before taking a sip from a World’s Greatest Sisters coffee mug. “I’m in Jeju, South Korea, and before you start, yes, Mom and Dad know, and I’ve only been here a couple of days. We had to hit the ground running so we could beat the rain and no, I still can’t tell you why I’m here or what I’m working on. I work for the CIA, remember?”

  Francine threw her head back and laughed. “You know this triplet psychic thing we got going on just gets worse the older we get.”

  “Tell me about it,” she agreed, taking another sip from her cup.

  “I see you still have your mug,” Francine said. The memory of when they “made” them flashed through her mind.

  “Of course. I’ll never forget Farrah coming home all pissed off because the store only had mugs that read World’s Greatest Sister, so she insisted that we use permanent markers to add the s.” Felicia danced her cup in front of the camera. “Don’t you?”

  “Yes, I do,” Francine said, smiling.

  The security phone next to her door rang.

  Francine frowned as she checked her watch; she wasn’t due to see Meeks until Friday. She wasn’t expecting anyone, and she rarely got any surprise outside visitors.

  “I hear you’re being buzzed. You expecting company?” Felicia asked, giving her sister a silly grin much like Farrah’s when she was having naughty thoughts.

  “No...not yet, anyway. I see you and Farrah have been talking. How soon after she left my place this morning did she call you?”

  “She barely made it to her apartment,” she said, laughing.

  The security phone rang again.

  “Go get that. Don’t keep him waiting,” she said, making her eyebrows dance. “Besides, I’ve got to go anyway. I’ll call again soon... I promise.”

  “Okay, be careful, Felicia. Love you,” Francine said.

  “Love you, too, and give Meeks my best,” she said, giggling as she signed off.

  Francine shook her head as she went to answer the phone. “What’s up, Stan?” she asked the building’s security guard.

  “Sorry to disturb you, Ms. Blake, but there’s a Jasmine Black here to see you,” he informed her.

  “What’s she doing here?” Francine whispered, looking at the phone as if she expected an answer. She returned it to her ear and said, “Send her up, Stan.”

  Francine hung up the phone and ran to her bathroom where she quickly wiped her face, brushed her hair and pulled it back up into a high ponytail. She grabbed her body spray and squirted herself twice just as her doorbell rang.

  “Well, at least I don’t look too crazy,” she said to her reflection. Francine made her way to the door to greet her guest.

  She plastered a smile on her face and opened her door.

  Jasmine Black stood in the doorway, looking beautiful in a gray, printed Vera Wang scoop dress and strappy stilettos in the same color. “Jasmine, nice to see you again. Please come in.”

  “Thank you, and please forgive the intrusion,” she said.

  “No problem. I was just finishing up my workout, so forgive my appearance.” Francine gestured to the workout gear she was wearing. “Please, have a seat.”

  Jasmine’s gaze swept the area in a matter of seconds. “You have a beautiful home. I can’t get over how much the layout reminds me of Meeks’s place.”

  “Thanks,” Francine said. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “No thanks,” Jasmine said, taking a seat on Francine’s sofa. “I hate the way our introduction went yesterday, so I just thought we could start over. You know, clear the air, since we’ll all be working together.” Jasmine gave her a smile. “I can only imagine how truly angry you must have been, being blindsided like that by a client. I wouldn’t like it either, and I certainly wouldn’t have handled it as well as you did.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Also, I’d hate for my relationship with Meeks to cause problems between us.”

  Francine took a seat in the chair across from Jasmine. “I didn’t realize you and Meeks had a relationship. I mean, I know you two have history, but that’s what I thought it was...history. Are you telling me it’s not?” Francine asked with raised eyebrows.

  “Of course not,” she practically purred. “Our relationship is friendly at best. We didn’t end things on the best of terms, although—” she traced a finger across her cleavage “—I do plan to rectify that fact as soon as possible. You know, so our working together won’t be so...awkward. Now, if you weren’t in the picture, and you obviously are, I wouldn’t be opposed to another brief affair,” she said, laughing. “The man is quite—” she shivered as though experiencing a mild orgasm “—well, you don’t need me to tell you what he is.”

  “No... I don’t,” Francine said, giving her a smile that spoke volumes.

  Jasmine tilted her head and smirked. “Good. At least you’re not denying you’re together,” she said, flipping her long hair off her shoulders.

  “Of course I’m not,” Francine said as she crossed her arms under her chest. “Like you said, your relationship with Meeks is friendly as it should be. There’s no reason for us to play games.”

  Jasmine’s smile didn’t quite reach her green eyes. “True, you don’t need to worry about me. I could never give Meeks what he wants. Not that it’s any of my business, but I can’t see how you could, either.”

  A stab of concern settled in Francine’s gut.

  “I mean, you’re just as strong and independent as I am,” Jasmine said. Then she added, “At least, from everything I’ve heard. And you really seem to love what you do. Staying at home barefoot and pregnant, waiting for your man to come home every day, just doesn’t seem like it’s your style. It damn sure isn’t mine.”

  An edge of doubt about their ability to work out their business differences crept in. Francine had always had these concerns about Meeks’s thoughts on gender roles; she thought they could be a little extreme. That was part of the same reason she had kept her distance for so long.

  “No, you don’t know me,” Francine said. “People have many sides to them, and they can want a multitude of things. I’m sure it wouldn’t surprise you one bit what some people are capable of under the right circumstances,” she advised.

  “Especially if one thinks Meeks is the right circumstance,” Jasmine said, giving Francine a smile that said there was more to her statement than she wanted to share.

  Francine checked her watch and looked back at Jasmine, who grinned.

  “I won’t hold you. I’m sure you have better things to do other than to sit here talking to me.” Her gaze took in everything in the area once again, but lingered on the side table where a picture of Meeks with Francine and her sisters sat. “Besides, I have another stop I need to make before I have to go
meet Tiffany. I’m canceling another date. He’ll stop asking me soon.”

  “So you’re dating someone?” Francine asked, tilting her head slightly.

  The other woman laughed. “I wouldn’t say we were dating...not really. But a girl’s got needs, and it’s really hard finding someone who can handle being with women like us.” Jasmine shrugged her shoulders. “Anyway, the little darling has another party that she just has to make an appearance at.”

  “I’m sure she does,” Francine said. “Don’t cancel your date. I’ll cover Tiffany’s event.”

  “Seriously?” Jasmine frowned.

  “Of course. Despite what some people think, Tiffany is my client.”

  Jasmine threw her head back and laughed. “Yeah, Meeks does have a strong protective gene when it comes to his women.”

  “Yes, he does.”

  Jasmine stood and said, “Thanks again for tonight, and I’m really glad we cleared the air.”

  “Me, too,” Francine replied, following her guest to the door.

  A small voice inside Francine’s head told her she’d better be careful. It was pretty clear that Jasmine just might think she and Meeks had some unfinished business.

  Chapter 16

  The elevator door opened to the top floor of Francine’s building, and she paused and her breath caught when she laid eyes on Meeks. He was giving her an intense glare. “I’d kiss you senseless if I didn’t want to strangle you right now.”

  Francine raised her chin, put her hands on her hips and said, “Missed you, too.”

  “You just can’t help yourself, can you? And it should be illegal to wear that dress after two in the morning, let alone after six.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me,” he replied. He was shirtless, leaning against his apartment doorframe and looking like some fair-skinned Greek god at six in the morning—a time when most humans barely looked alive. But there he stood, shaking his head and giving Francine that disapproving look he knew she hated. “What happened to doing paperwork?”

  “What are you doing back so early? I didn’t expect to see you until later,” she said, fishing her key out of her handbag as she continued on to her apartment.

  “I bet.” He swiped the key from her and unlocked and opened her door.

  “It’s been a long night,” she said, placing her purse on the antique side table that sat in her foyer. “And I don’t have the time or the energy for this.”

  She had finally been able to get Tiffany to leave the third after-hours club, where Francine had to toss a couple of overzealous fans out of their VIP section and call it a night. It had taken her another hour to brief her replacement, do one final perimeter check of Tiffany’s house and drag her tired butt across town to her apartment. The last thing she needed was to deal with Meeks’s judgmental behind.

  “As for my outfit, you and I both know it’s perfectly appropriate for my assignment,” she declared as she watched him enter and close the door behind him.

  “An assignment you hijacked,” he accused while leaning against her door.

  “I did no such thing,” she protested, standing a few feet away from him. “Jasmine had a date and she didn’t want to cancel, so the paperwork had to wait. I’m nearly done anyway. Someone had to cover.”

  All Francine wanted to do was take off the low-cut black sequined minidress that she’d never dare wear, then take the fastest shower known to man before climbing into bed for some long overdue sleep. The last thing she needed was to hear the same old crap from Meeks, although she really was happy to see him.

  “A date?”

  “Yes, you have a problem with that?” she challenged, standing with her hand on her hip.

  “I could care less about Jasmine’s dating life. She had a job to do, but if she couldn’t she should have contacted Davis so he could have found a replacement. It didn’t have to be you, Cine,” he protested.

  “It most certainly did,” she shot back as she slowly moved farther into her living room. “Tiffany’s my client, and it’s my job!”

  Meeks straightened to his full six-two height, which gave him a half-foot advantage over Francine, whose five-inch heels were now dangling from her fingers. He walked toward her, holding the towel that was draped around his neck. His skin glistened, and sweat dripped from his head and landed on his muscular chest. He had obviously just finished a workout, something he often did when he was angry or annoyed. The moment Meeks’s piercing dark eyes swept over her body, Francine’s nipples hardened and all her blood seemed to rush south—an all-too-familiar response that seemed to intensify whenever they were arguing.

  “It wasn’t your job,” he challenged, glaring down at her with his hands in his pockets. “You have been assigned backup for at least two more months for a reason. Hell, if it were up to me, you’d stay in the office.”

  “Well, it’s not up to you. And again, Tiffany is my client. Anyway, as CEO, I’m supposed to maintain relationships with our clients, even if that means doing so in the field,” Francine proclaimed as she sat down on her cream-colored leather sofa, dropping her shoes next to it. She was happy that she’d thought to remove her jewelry and gun and place them in her purse before leaving the party. She yanked off her wig and began extracting the numerous pins necessary to keep her long, thick mane in place underneath it.

  With each pin she removed, the pain in her head eased a little. Francine’s dark, naturally curly hair fell past her shoulders to rest in the center of her lower back. She smirked as she watched Meeks’s eyes fill with desire as he watched her ruffle her hair. Even when they were kids, he’d loved it when she wore it down. Francine took a deep breath, closed her eyes and lay on her left side.

  If only the pain in Francine’s side could be eased as easily as the one in her head; she felt like she was being scraped by a large shard of glass. Francine refused to address that pain in front of Meeks, so taking a pill was out of the question. Instead, she began lightly rubbing her side and hip, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

  “Shit! I knew it.”

  He noticed.

  “Don’t start,” she said without opening her eyes. She pulled down the throw from the back of the sofa to cover herself from shoulders to feet. Francine could feel Meeks staring at her, but she kept her eyes shut.

  * * *

  Meeks could feel his anger coming to the forefront. “So much for following your doctor’s advice,” Meeks mumbled as he watched her grimace while trying to shift her body on the sofa. He made his way into Francine’s bathroom to collect her pain medicine. Then he went into her kitchen and retrieved a cold pack and a bottle of water from the refrigerator and a glass from her cabinet. Meeks knelt down beside Francine, and several moments of silence ticked by. Just as she was falling deeper into sleep, he pressed the cold pack to her side.

  Meeks watched as Francine forced her beautiful green eyes open. He made sure his glare spoke to his displeasure. He was angry because she had gone out in the field and overdone it again. What had him angriest was that something could have happened to her and he would have been out of town...again; only this time, it would have taken longer to get to her. Francine still didn’t get it. She was his whole world.

  “Here,” he said as he handed her two of her pills and the glass of water that he’d poured for her. “Take them.”

  She sat up slightly, took the pills and tossed them down with a few sips of water. “Thanks,” she said before closing her eyes, breaking their connection.

  “Should I expect you for the three o’clock staff meeting this afternoon?” he asked as he leaned in closer.

  “Umm...yeah,” she murmured.

  “I may be annoyed with you right now, but I’m happy you’re okay. Get some rest, baby,” he said in a softer tone before giving her a gentle kiss on the lips.

 
Francine’s eyes opened slowly. “We still on for dinner tonight?” she asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

  He held her gaze and cupped the side of her face with his right hand. “I sure hope so, but only if you’re feeling better.” Francine sighed and the corner of her mouth curved upward as she closed her eyes.

  Meeks adjusted the plush throw covering her body, tucking her in as she slipped into a most welcome slumber. Meeks continued to stand over her for a moment longer. He tilted his head and watched as her perfect full lips made a small pout as she slept. His eyes followed her jawline down her neck. Meeks always thought she had the most beautiful neck he’d ever seen. Not to mention the rest of her perfect body—full breasts that were soft to his touch, a round, firm butt and long legs that just seemed to go on forever. At that very moment, he would have done anything to have those legs wrapped around his waist. His sex was as hard as concrete.

  Meeks took a quick detour to the kitchen and set up her coffee machine. Francine’s apartment was one of four on the top floor—one at each corner of the building. All the apartments had identical floor plans: a wide entry that housed a half bath and a coat closet and led to a huge open-concept room with a gourmet kitchen. The floor-to-ceiling collapsible windows allowed for open access onto a balcony that was made for entertaining. Each apartment also contained four bedrooms, each with en suite bathrooms, and a separate office space, which could tempt even the most dedicated executive to never leave home again.

  Meeks looked at Francine’s sleeping form one final time before leaving her apartment and locking up. He headed back to his own place for a very cold shower.

  Before he could make it to his bathroom, his phone rang. He checked the screen and smirked before he answered, “What’s up?”