La Fleur de Love: The Series: Books 1 - 4

by Leger, Lori

  The savory smells inside the local seafood restaurant had Nash’s stomach growling. “I’ll take the deluxe seafood platter, and I’ll pay extra to have the deviled crab replaced with more oysters. And more sweet tea, please.” He held up his nearly empty glass.

  “I’ll have the small broiled catfish imperial please, and extra lemon for my water, please.” Annie handed the menu to the waitress and stood. “Come on, Nash. The salad bar is over there.”

  “Good, I’m starving.” He followed her, swung around in full bodyguard mode when someone called out to Annie. Her pleased reaction eased his mind immediately. The sight of the woman standing before him did more than that.

  “Angelique!” Annie squealed, obviously delighted at the woman’s presence. “It’s great to see you. What brings you to Kenton?”

  “Business, of course, but I’m so glad I get to mix a little pleasure in with my meal by meeting up with you.”

  Nash stood a little taller as the woman turned her gaze his direction. The exotic looking beauty didn’t even attempt to hide her appreciative ogling. Her smooth as velvet, throaty voice called to mind old-time blues houses of the past … smoke-filled rooms, sweat-covered bodies plastered against each other, all moving in a slow, seductive dance.

  Her eyes wide with curiosity, she pursed her lips. “Who, may I ask, are you?”

  Nash gave God a silent thumbs up for creating the gorgeously sexy, black-haired beauty standing majestically before him. Nearly as tall as himself, the woman boasted an exotically olive complexion, and a body built like a brick shit house. As if all that perfect packaging wasn’t enough, her eyes sealed the deal. Vibrantly alive, full of mischief, and the most beautiful shade of green he’d ever seen on any human being, ever.

  He tipped his hat to the lady and gave her what he hoped was his most seductive smile. “Liam Nash, Ma’am … and can I just say that it is a real pleasure to meet you.”

  “Angelique Baptiste, Mr. Nash.” She extended her hand as she flashed him a brilliant smile. “Apparently, it’s my lucky day. Who thought I’d meet such a fine specimen in a town this size?” She turned to Annie. “You must tell me now before I get too attached, is he your beau, ma chere amie?”

  Annie laughed. “No to the beau, and yes to the bodyguard, Red’s idea since I seem to have picked up a stalker on New Year’s Eve.”

  “Chere de Bon Dieu!” Angelique whispered, reverently. “I heard about the attack of course, but I didn’t know the man was stalking you! You must tell me everything. I’m by myself, so may I sit with you?”

  “Absolutely,” Nash answered before Annie could reply. “Let’s get our salads and sit.”

  The three of them seated themselves and began to carry on the easy conversation that would last throughout the meal.

  “So, your company wants to transfer you to Lubbock, Texas?” The prospect of having her in his hometown thrilled Nash as he hadn’t been in quite some time.

  Angelique wiped the condensation from her glass of iced tea. “Yes, but I turned them down, of course. That’s why I’m here for a job interview.”

  Nash turned to her and cleared his throat. “Lubbock is my home, you know. Do you have a problem with that place in particular, or Texas, in general?”

  “I have a problem with being so far away from my parents, Mr. Nash. They live in Lafayette, and I’m an only child.”

  “Maybe you could take them with you,” he suggested

  She gave her head an adamant shake. “My parents are old and extremely set in their ways. It would be futile to ask.”

  “But how do you know unless you do?”

  “Mr. Nash, my parents are of Creole blood. They would die if they left all they were accustomed to. The old traditional ways run deep in them both.”

  He gazed into her eyes, thinking it could explain her unique coloring. “Creole. I’ve heard of it, but I’ve always been confused about what makes up Creole bloodline. How is Creole different from Cajun?”

  “Modern day Cajuns are descendants of the French families that left France so they could be free to practice their religion of Catholicism. They ended up in Nova Scotia—”

  “Which used to be called Acadia. I know that much,” Nash interjected. “One of my Navy buddies was Cajun.”

  “That’s right,” Annie continued. “They built thriving communities, were hard-working, and very devout Catholics. Protestant English came along and wanted them to swear allegiance to the Crown of England and stop practicing Catholicism.”

  “So they left one country because of religious persecution and the same flipping thing happened in their new home?” Nash grunted in disgust. “That sucks.”

  “The big one,” Annie said. “Of course there was a lot more to it than that, but that would take a lot longer than a lunch break.”

  Nash nodded in understanding. “So the name Cajun is derived from the word Acadian?”

  “Ca c’est bon. Very good, Liam. Step to the front of the class!” The green-eyed temptation flashed him a brilliant smile.

  He grinned at her. “How about you?”

  She ran her crimson nail around the rim of her empty coffee cup. “Creoles can be descendants of Spanish, Native American, and Caribbean—any, or all of these, always mixed with French blood, but born here in this country.”

  “So, which descendants do you come from?”

  “That would be the box labeled All of the above.” She pinned him with her mesmerizing gaze. “I’m curious to know what you think of that, Mr. Nash.”

  He returned her gaze, only slightly surprised by her frankness. “I don’t have a problem with your curiosity at all, Ms. Baptiste. I only asked out of my own curiosity. I wanted to know who to credit for your exquisitely beautiful features. Your eyes, hair, skin tone …” He paused and scanned her from the top of her head, to her lovely hands resting on the table. “All of it, the entire breathtaking package.”

  Angelique actually blushed as she cleared her throat. “Well, that is certainly sweet of you to say. Merci beaucoup—thank you, Mr. Nash.”

  “Please, call me Nash or Liam,” he commented.

  She nodded slowly and gave him a smile. “I like the sound of Liam, as long as you call me Angelique, or Angie if you prefer.”

  “I like the sound of Angelique. It fits a woman of your extraordinary beauty.”

  Angelique blinked several times. “My goodness. How long can you keep that up, Liam?”

  He dipped his head for a long, slow perusal of her. “Oh, I can keep it up a long, long time, Angelique.”

  Annie studied the pair of aces in front of Nash and the three sevens in front of Drake. She lay down her cards with a grin. “Read ‘em and weep, boys. Full house—kings over jacks.”

  Drake groaned. “Hell in a hand basket! I have never seen anyone so damned lucky.”

  Nash eyed her suspiciously. “I swear Annie, you’d better not let me catch you cheating.”

  Annie chortled gleefully, pulling the sizeable pot of M&M’s toward her already considerably larger pile. “Fa-git about it, Nash. I don’t cheat, and if I did, you’d never catch me at it.”

  Drake gathered the cards to shuffle for the next deal. “I guaran-damn-tee I’d be able to tell if she was cheating, Nash, but she’s not. She’s just lucky, that’s all.”

  Annie chuckled, feeling more relaxed than she had since before New Year’s Eve, partly thanks to the three bottles of Abita beer she’d already put away. “Sorry to bust your bubble, boys, but you’re both wrong. If I was known for my luck, I wouldn’t be stuck here with you two clowns. And Nash, I never cheat. I don’t have to. I’m just that good.” Her tone held no tinge of boastfulness, just fact.

  Drake frowned at her. “Well, I’m wondering how you got so damn good.”

  Annie shrugged and smiled secretively. “It’ll cost you M&M’s to find out.” She sent him a wink.

  Drake snorted. “I don’t need to know that bad. You already have nearly every flippin’ M&M in the house. What are you going
to do with all of those?” He eyed her pile of candy.

  “Eat them, of course.” She popped a handful in her mouth and munched noisily. She lifted a single brown candy and squinted, trying to align it with Drake’s eyes. “Anyone ever tell you your eyes are the same color as brown M&M’s?”

  Drake grinned at her. “Not that I can recall.”

  “Well they are. The exact. Same. Color.” She popped the candy in her mouth. “M&M’s are heavenly, but the brown ones are my favorite. They always seem to taste better than the others.”

  Nash shook his head. “You are so drunk. They all taste exactly the same.”

  “Am not, and not to me, they don’t.” She held up another brown one. Yep, same color.

  The ring of Annie’s landline had Nash getting up to lower the country music blaring from the computer’s surround sound. He leaned toward the phone. “Who is it?”

  “It says unknown caller.” She smiled and reached for the phone. “I’m sure it’s Publisher’s Clearing House asking where to mail my million dollars.”

  “Why don’t you ask for it in M&M’s—cut out the middle man all together?” Drake suggested.

  Annie picked up her cordless phone, still laughing over the comment. “Hello?”

  “Damn sweet thang, if I’d a known you’d be this happy to hear from me, I’d a called you sooner.”

  She sucked in her breath before signaling Nash to begin the trace he’d set up with the Sheriff’s department. She heard J.B.’s sadistic cackle from the opposite end of the line.

  “Yeah, go ahead and have those two ol’ boys try to trace this call, sweetheart. I won’t be on long enough for that. I just wanted to remind you that all the bodyguards in the world ain’t gonna protect you from me.

  Sooner or later, you’ll get tired and let your guard down. When you do, I’ll be there to let you know how bad you screwed up. I already got it all planned out—everything I’m gonna do to that sweet little body of yours.”

  “Too bad you never had anyone decent in your life to teach you to pick on people your own size.” Annie’s voice shook throughout her comment, even though she was more pissed off than afraid. It really irked her that he felt confident enough to do something like this. “I bet when you were in the third grade you were bullying kids in kindergarten. That’s assuming you even made it to the third grade, you ignorant hillbilly.” She splayed one hand to placate a wild-eyed Drake as J.B. guffawed, seeming to enjoy himself tremendously.

  “That’s right, little miss, you go right ahead and act all full of piss and vinegar. It’ll be that much more fun to break you. It’s always the best part—the look on their faces when they figger it out.”

  “Figure what out, J.B.? That you’re just a pathetic little man who picks on women because he can’t hold his own in a fight with a real man?”

  “When they realize there ain’t no way out. You’ll figger it out too, just before I strangle the life out of you.”

  “You’re an animal.” Annie’s skin crawled at J.B.’s sadistic laughter.

  “Before you go to bed tonight, think about me and all the things I’m gonna do to you when I get my hands on you agin.”

  “You don’t s-scare me.” She bit down against the terror threatening to engulf her.

  “Aw, now you’ll have to go to confession. A good Catholic girl like you knows it’s a sin to lie. You’ll want that soul of yours lily white ‘fore you die. Time’s up, Annie. See ya soon.”

  Annie stared at the phone in her hand, the connection dead, before casting a glance in Liam’s direction.

  He shook his head. “We didn’t get it.”

  She set the phone down then curled up on the end of the couch, wrapping herself in the afghan her grandmother crocheted for her sixteenth birthday. She pulled it tight against the chill that engulfed her, trying to minimize the uncontrollable chattering of her teeth, a simple nervous reaction.

  She caught the looks Drake and Liam exchanged, both obviously concerned, both probably eager to hear the recorded end of that phone call. Neither seemed inclined to subject her to it again, and for that, she was grateful.

  Annie’s mood quieted immediately. Worse than that, she seemed to shrink before his eyes, turning within herself, as she scanned the windows in the living room—the ones with no bars. Drake leaned toward her. “Annie, would it help if you moved to one of the rooms with the bars on the windows?”

  “I don’t want to be alone.”

  “We’ll all go.” He extended his hand. “Come on, we can watch some flix on my mack-daddy-big-screen in my room. Anything you want.” Nash and I will even rent you a chick flick from pay per view, how’s that sound?”

  She took his hand, keeping the afghan wrapped tightly around her shivering body. Her knees buckled upon standing, and Drake scooped her up before she hit the floor. “I’ve got you, Annie Girl.” He held her protectively against him, worried, more than anything, that she didn’t protest as he carried her to his bedroom.

  He stopped just inside the doorway. “Turn on the light, would you, hon? My hands are kind of full.” His comment got no rise from her, aside from doing what he asked. More cause for concern because it was totally out of character for her. He wanted the old Annie back—the hot little habanero who would never have let his comment slide without making some crack about him keeping his hands to himself, or else.

  Drake deposited her gently on the king size bed he’d had delivered to her home several days earlier, urging her to crawl under the covers before he plumped pillows behind her head. He tucked her in securely then sat down next to her on the bed, leaning up against the wall. The big shock came when she curled up on her side and rested her head on his thigh.

  His heart ached as her hands clutched the afghan in a white-knuckled grip. Drake grabbed the remote control in his left hand while rubbing her back with his opposite. He pulled up the pay per view guide to scan through the choice of movies. The wind picked up outside as the winter storm-front pushed through the area. Annie jumped with every bump and scrape of tree limb against the exterior of the house. She jolted to a sitting position at a loud racket outside, her eyes large and fixed on the blinds.

  “It’s just the trash can outside, hon. The wind knocked it over, that’s all.” Drake touched her arm, hoping to soothe her frazzled nerves. He intercepted a look from Nash at his approach. He didn’t need to read minds to see how disturbed the man was. Must have been one hell of a conversation between Annie and that bastard, Montgomery.

  Nash wiped the worry from his face. “Hey, can I crash this party?”

  Annie edged over to make room for her bodyguard, who stretched out his long legs on the soft bed.

  “Oh, yeah, now we’re talking,” he groaned. “This makes me homesick for my California King.”

  “I guess your feet hang off the edge of your bed too, huh Nash.”

  Liam shrugged. “Even when I lay down diagonally. I think maybe I’ll just camp out on the sofa from now on.”

  Annie covered her face and groaned. “Oh, Liam. I’m so sorry. I never even thought about how uncomfortable you must be. I’ve been meaning to buy a new bed for that room, anyway—how about if we go pick one out for you tomorrow?”

  Nash’s low rumble of laughter filled the room. “All I need is to have my old Navy Seal buddies find out I whined about a soft bed with a real roof over my head. I’d never hear the end of it.”

  Drake watched as Annie bit her lip in contemplation, scanning his bed from one corner to the other. “This bed is huge. I bet there’s plenty enough room for the two of you.”

  Drake exchanged a look with Nash, who was equally horrified by the suggestion. They simultaneously turned to Annie and shook their heads.

  Annie looked perplexed. “Why not?”

  “We’re grown men,” Nash said.

  “Heterosexual men,” Drake added.

  “And we sure as hell aren’t sharing the same bed,” Nash insisted.

  “It’s out of the question.” Drake
agreed, whole heartedly.

  Annie shook her head. “Guys are so stupid. Two women wouldn’t have a problem with that at all.”

  “Yeah, well—we do, so get over it,” Drake admitted.

  Nash grinned as he ruffled Annie’s hair. “Don’t worry about it, kiddo. I’ve slept in a lot worse places, I assure you. It doesn’t take long to work the kinks out in the morning.” He twisted and bent his back at the waist. “Now, what are we watching tonight? I hear it’s ladies choice.”

  “What’s on?”

  Drake went through the menu and Annie made him stop at an older Vin Diesel movie about street racing. “Oh, I missed this one at the theaters. I was too busy studying for finals to see it when it came out.”

  Drake gave her a perplexed look. “Are you sure? Don’t think you have to watch this on our account.”

  “I’m not. Contrary to what you have Lewis believing, I think Vin is the man.”

  “Whatever you want is fine by me,” Nash said.

  “Me … too,” Drake gasped, pulling an imaginary dagger from his heart, until she laughed. He gave her a big smile. “You can think what you want about Vin. I guess it’s only fair.”

  “Sure it is. What’s not fair is the two of you being inconvenienced and overburdened with worrying about me all the time.”

  Nash guffawed. “As much as I enjoy having you as a client, Short-Shit, this is my job. I’m paid well to be inconvenienced, and I’m not overburdened. Now Drake, on the other hand …” He paused to give her a wink. “He may be here for an entirely different reason.”

  Drake met Annie’s gaze without the barest hint of a smile. “She knows why I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere, unless she makes me.” He reached out and chucked her chin gently as she swallowed and turned away from whatever it was she thought she saw in his eyes.

  “You have a new business, Drake. I feel guilty because you’re taking so much time away. It hasn’t been that long for me, so I remember how difficult it is starting up with new clientele in a new location.” Her fingers twisted the threads of the afghan into knots. “Nash is here now, and it’s not necessary for you to stay. If you-If you feel you need to go.”