by D. B. Shayne
“Have a seat Ms. Moore.” Jasmine sat stiffly in a large armchair and looked around. A portrait of Theodore Devereux and his father, hung on the east wall and sculptures of wood and stone dotted the floor space. Thatcher Devereux had died five years before his son.
“I had refreshments prepared for you. If you don’t care for wine I can get you some tea or whatever you prefer. Jasmine glanced at the appetizing spread fare. Wine was definitely not on her list of choices, the last thing she needed was liquor stripping away her vulnerable defences.
“Maybe in a little while,” she answered, eyeing the mouth-watering salmon and cream cheese rolls.
“So let’s get to it, what does Ms. Moore want to know about me?” Terrence took a seat, stretched his long toned legs and looked directly at Jasmine. She was a little surprised at his eagerness-or was he anxious to get her out of his dark, thick waves of hair that she swore was daring her to run her fingers through it.
“Well, I wanted to start off by asking about your family roots. Common knowledge is that you are from South America but which part?” Jasmine asked as she pulled her pen and notepad from her bag before she placed it on the ground next to her feet.
“Linden, Berbice.” Jasmine concealed her astonishment at the mention of the quaint town and developed a new threshold of respect for how far the family had come and the great things they had accomplished.
“Are Trent and Tyler your only siblings?”
“I will not comment on that question.” Jasmine tapped her pen thoughtfully against her chin. So maybe, just maybe, there may be other Devereux siblings. But from the obvious person, Theodore Devereux, who was notorious for extra-marital affairs? Or did his wife, Helen, have a child or children from previous relationships. Jasmine looked at Terrence then returned her attention to the scribbles on her note pad.
“What’s a cherished memory you have of your childhood?” Terrence smiled warmly.
“Summer time with my brothers. We always had some little hustle going on to make extra money; Trent renting out everything he could get his hands on, Tyler writing love letters and selling to the boys who wanted to impress girls.” Aleesha looked at Terrence intrigued. It was evident from their summertime endeavours that the Devereux brothers were not coddled and spoiled and were inherently entrepreneurial.
“And you?”
“I sold everything from the pears off the tree in the backyard to marbles.” Aleesha relaxed a fraction as Terrence’s memory filled her with warmth.
“Did you know that the first business started by my great grandfather Varick, was a grocery store?” Jasmine was pleased to have the unknown historical fact, to add to her story.
“No, no I did not know that, thank you. Tell me Mr. Devereux, what’s your favourite food and movie?” Terrence grinned at the question.
“Would you also like to know my allergies?” he joked. Jasmine was pleasantly surprised to discover he possessed a sense of humour.
“I like pizza fries and that movie with the millionaire and the prostitute falling in love.” Jasmine gazed at Terrence, visibly impressed at his fondness for a common savoury treat that could be found at many food vendors on the street and admitting that he actually liked a chick flick. The information was refreshing to hear from the lips of the young billionaire. And it made her heart do little cartwheels in her chest.
“The look on your face tells me you expected to hear something like caviar and a psychological thriller.”
“You are quite right in that assessment Mr. Devereux. Do you play any sports?” Jasmine asked, smiling.
“I love playing polo but cricket is my favourite sport. I used to play often with my grandfather, Thatcher Devereux before he died but I haven’t picked up a bat since his passing.” Terrence looked away briefly as he replied then resumed staring at Jasmine. Jasmine refrained from commenting, it was clear the topic was still a delicate one.
“Can we talk about your mother?” Jasmine ventured.
“No. Nor my father.”
“So tell me, are there any plans on the horizon for new business ventures, can you tell me something that is not already public knowledge?” Jasmine sensed that any further questions surrounding his family were no longer open for discussion.
“As a matter of fact, Devereux Industries plans to open a centre for young, disadvantaged mothers. It will provide them with free training courses and offer programs to prepare them for the world of work. There will also be a day care centre.” Jasmine could not help but be further impressed by the upcoming project. She could feel Terrence’s eyes focused keenly on her and was growing increasingly uncomfortable. And warm, quite warm.
“Am I making you nervous, Ms. Moore?” Terrence’s voice was almost a whisper. He stood up and walked next to the glass-topped coffee table. Jasmine avoided his stare.
“I-n-no.”
“Your voice is telling me otherwise. Since you got here you’ve been sitting in that chair as stiff as a plank of cedar.” Terrence slid his hands into the pockets of his pants and spread his feet slightly apart.
“Do you have a problem with me and who I am, and we both know what I’m talking about.” Jasmine lifted her head to meet Terrence’s gaze. “Don’t lie to me,” he warned.
It’s just I had…” Jasmine turned to look out a window at the lights adorning the sleek yachts and the deep dark ocean rippling gently beneath them. Jasmine, why are you even considering opening up to this man who is practically a stranger?
“You had a bad experience with one of us perhaps?” His perception caught her off guard. Jasmine looked up again.
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“Please, if you don’t mind, I want to continue with the questions.”
“But I do mind. I need to know why before we go any further.”
“It’s personal.”
“And so is this interview,” Terrence pointed out. Jasmine put her pen and notepad next to her thigh. She rose from the armchair; sitting was making her feel remarkably tiny. Terrence’s blood rushed through his veins at breakneck speed. Jasmine stirred feelings deep within him he’d never experienced before. He limited his interaction with women to the occasional pleasure of one night stands or business proceedings; and refrained from mixing the two worlds. But Jasmine was not just another woman, she was special. Terrence stepped closer.
“I went out with a lion shifter a few times-a very possessive one. I ended things because I became afraid of him. He phoned me constantly, showed up at places where I frequented. And then he just stopped-I don’t know why but I was very relieved.” Her voice shook slightly as she spoke. Terrence was so near, she could reach out and touch him if she desired. And she did desire to touch him.
“Did you have sex with him?” Jasmine’s eyes widened. She wondered who was really being interviewed and how was it any of his business if she slept with the man.
“No. it went no further than some kisses. I shudder at the thought of what might have happened if I had slept with Calvin Simmons. Look I have a couple more questions and then I’ll wrap things up for tonight.”
“Leaving so soon?”
“Would you mind shifting for me?” Terrence’s eyebrows lifted, the question caught him off guard.
“You could just ask to see me naked Ms. Moore and I will happily oblige.” Jasmine’s lips parted as heat flashed between her thighs. She put her hands on her hips hoping it would help keep her steady. Terrence turned away and started to unbutton his shirt; he tossed it aside and went to stand behind a tall sculpture and removed the remainder of his clothes. Low growling noises floated through the space and shortly after a striped beast emerged. Jasmine pressed her hands against her chest. She had observed people shifting before but Terrence was no ordinary tiger. As he crossed the room, Jasmine watched his powerful body move as if she were in a trance. He stopped a few feet away from her and released a roar that shook her to the core. She was not afraid. Jasmine walked right up to him and stroked his fur with a h
and. A sensual charge went through her.
“You’re magnificent,” she whispered. The tiger regarded her for a moment then returned behind the sculpture. Terrence, in human form, soon appeared with his pants on. He picked up his shirt, threw it onto the sofa and resumed his position of standing inches away from Jasmine who was a little disappointed that the show was over so quickly.
“What was your other question?”
“Ehm-do you plan on having a family?” Jasmine held her breath after posing the question.
“Yes, four children I hope-with you.” Jasmine blinked rapidly in shock and confusion.
“Excuse me?”
“I believe my statement was very clear Ms. Moore.” Terrence reached out and rubbed a thumb on her cheek. “I want you as my mate, for the rest of our lives.” Jasmine laughed nervously.
“What?” Oh god not again, I have to get out of here!
“I know what you’re thinking especially after what you told me about that idiot you dated but I am not him, Jasmine. I would never cause you harm or give you reason to be afraid of me.”
“This is absolutely-”
“Crazy, I know it seems that way to you but from the first time I saw you, felt your presence, caught your scent, I knew we belonged together.” Jasmine knew all too well what Terrence was referring to, it was what Calvin had told her almost verbatim when they first met.
“Mr. Devereux, please.” Jasmine’s words were barely audible. Terrence held her face in both hands.
“Don’t tell me you can’t feel something burning between us?”
“Where did you see me?”
“That’s irrelevant. I want to kiss you Ms. Moore.” Terrence pressed his body against hers and traced her jawline with his fingers. Jasmine’s heart was hammering against her ribcage.
“May I kiss you…Ms. Moore?” Terrence asked in a husky whisper. Jasmine closed her eyes and leaned into Terrence, who was pleased at her wordless reply. His lips brushed against hers, gently. Then he made a string of sensuous nips along her lower lip and caressed the tender spots with the tip of his tongue. A moan bubbled in Jasmine’s throat as her body softened against him. Terrence sipped at Jasmine’s mouth, savouring the delicate strawberry tones of her lip gloss and her quickening, warm breath against his face. She wrapped her arms around his body and he slanted his head, thrusting his tongue between her lips, delving deep, indulging in the wet warmth, pulling her tongue into his mouth to brand it with his. Terrence backed her against a wall and pinned her soft body with his steely form; his hands roamed through her hair then over her body, tracing her curves, kneading the sides of her breasts then dipping lower to grasp her full, rounded hips. Terrence’s mouth left Jasmine’s and migrated to her neck, making tiny bites to the delicate flesh there.
“Terrence,” Jasmine gasped, pushing her hips against his as sweet sensations plagued her body. She was burning, wet and ready. Terrence dragged his mouth away with great reluctance and peered into the depths of her lust-laden eyes.
“Jasmine Moore, if you don’t leave now I will have you naked, under me, and shouting my name in less than thirty seconds. And that’s the last thing I want.” Jasmine stared hard at Terrence.
“I-what?” Terrence moved away and went to retrieve his shirt, pulling it on quickly. Jasmine eyed the rock hard bulge in the front of his pants with shameless hunger. She closed her eyes and took a long deep breath. What the hell are you doing Jasmine? Really? And what did the hell did he mean by that statement? He wanted to kiss her but go no further? Jasmine didn’t know if she should feel flattered or insulted. She became highly annoyed.
“I suggest we meet somewhere else next time Ms. Moore.” Jasmine straightened her dress and grabbed her notepad, pen and bag.
“I agree Mr. Devereux,” Jasmine bit out. Terrence escorted Jasmine to the elevator and pushed a button on the wall. He stopped and cupped Jasmine’s shoulders with his hands when a ding indicated the doors were open and ready for occupancy.
“I apologize for what I said after the kiss, I know it must have you very confused and angry. I do want you Jasmine but when you become my mate, it has to be the right way.” Jasmine glared at Terrence.
“What in heavens are you talking about?”
“You are special to me and-”
“No, don’t, please. Let’s just stick to the business of the interview.”
“If that’s what you want but we are meant for each other Ms. Moore. Stop being afraid and fighting those overpowering feelings and give in-it will be so much easier on you, and make us both very happy. You won’t find happiness hiding behind a wall and playing it safe with your heart.” The last sentence he spoke was reminiscent of what Aleesha had said to her earlier. Am I that closed off? But playing it safe has its merits, great ones.
“Good night,” Jasmine said as she stepped inside.
“Let me walk you out,” Terrence offered, stepping forward. Jasmine held up a hand and he stopped moving.
“No, thanks, I’ll be fine.” They didn’t take their eyes off each other until the heavy rectangles of metal pulled together. Jasmine hurried out of the lobby and into the car park; June 25th would be eternally etched in her memory. She didn’t see the man lurking in the shadows of the ficus trees that surrounded the inner perimeter of the property; he’d slipped onto the compound from the beach side. The man stepped out from the cover of the trees as Jasmine’s car drove away and clenched his hands tightly at his sides. Jasmine’s slightly ruffled hair and the distinct scent of a male tiger surrounding her had not escaped him. So you wanted a man with money and power? Bitch! I’ll teach you a lesson.
Chapter 4
The sound of her vibrating cell phone on the pillow next to her head, drew Jasmine out of a light sleep, and hot dream of her and Terrence making love. She reached for the phone and answered the call without checking the caller id.
“Hello,” she murmured. She was sprawled on her back, eyelids still pinned together.
“Did I wake you?” Terrence asked. Jasmine’s eyes popped open.
“I-uh-yes but it’s okay.” She turned onto her side and gazed at the moon through the light curtains hanging from her bedroom window.
“I called to apologize for my behaviour, for coming on so strong. I thought I felt something between us, I don’t want you thinking I go around doing that to women.”
“It’s okay Terrence.”
“No, I should have known better, exercised better judgement especially with what you told me about that man you dated. I was being totally selfish. I’m really sorry Jasmine.”
“Terrence, really it’s alright. And you weren’t wrong.”
“About what?” Jasmine pulled the sheets off her body.
“Thinking you felt something between us.”
“I didn’t even ask you if you had a boyfriend.” Jasmine laughed softly.
“Well for the record, I don’t.”
“How come you’re not at a movie or out with friends at a party somewhere isn’t that what you young people do?” Terrence asked in a light voice. Jasmine smiled.
“Excuse me? You young people? What are you, fifty years old?” Terrence laughed out at her question. “Wow,” Jasmine added.
“Wow, what?” Terrence asked.
“You can laugh.”
“Of course I can.”
“Hmmm.”
“Hmmm?”
“You come across so intense, and serious.”
“This from the woman who nearly snapped her spine from sitting so stiffly during an interview.”
“Touché. But I can laugh too.”
“So, really, how come you’re not out somewhere?”
“I don’t go out much, there’s always so much work to do. I have to stay on top of things you know.”
“You sound like one of those girls that their friends had to drag from the library to go and have fun.”
“You are quite right about that. I usually had my face stuck in a text book.”
“Wel
l, at least you didn’t turn out to be a dull girl.” Laughter sprang from Jasmine’s lips.
“Why thank you so much. Glad to know ambition hasn’t made me boring.”
“I find ambition very attractive in a woman. But you’re the first woman I’ve met that makes it sexy as hell too.” There was a charged pause on the line. Jasmine squeezed her thighs together as the room seemed to grow smaller and warmer. “So tell me something about Jasmine Moore.” Jasmine had to suck air deeply into her lungs before replying.
“Well, I’m from Providence, born and raised there. I’m an only child and my parents are retired.”
“Retired?”
“Yes, my mom had me at a late age. Dad worked as a post office clerk and mom was a housekeeper.”
“They must be proud of you.”
“Yes they are,” Jasmine whispered, smiling.
“Terrence?”
“Yes?”
“You refused to talk about your parents at the interview but I just wanted to know…do you have any good memories of them?”
“Yes, there were but not that many. My father worked a lot and was hardly around and the little time he actually was around, was spent arguing with my mother.” There was a heavy pause on the line. “My mother hated the city and we lived at Varick Hall with my father’s parents most of the time. Our mother left us when I was twelve and our grandparents raised us until I was sixteen.”
“What happened then?” Jasmine asked quietly, anxious to know why Helen Devereux left her family.
“Thatcher died of complications from a heart attack; six months later Mirianne was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s and she passed away soon after. So we ended back here in Durham with our father-who always worked ridiculous hours and chased women in his spare time.”