A Lover's Mask (14 page)

“Hmph, that's the one thing I
don't
need to be told,” Fernando assured Jeff, grimacing at the sour taste that suddenly filled his mouth. “My dad put a crime ship in my name—his own son. Mr. J, I don't think there's much else that could surprise me.”

Memphis, Tennessee

Wood Stanton smiled curiously as he leaned against the doorjamb and watched the cloud of fluffy black hair bobbing behind the desk.

“You okay?” he called out finally.

The jet-black cloud ceased its bobbing and rose as its owner peeked over the desk. Melina Dan's exotic black gaze narrowed even more when she produced a sheepish grin.

“Just a clumsy episode,” she admitted.

“Need any help?” Wood offered, pushing himself away from the door. Of course, Melina could've dropped a stick pin and had every man in the building ready to help her find it. Still, Wood wasn't surprised when she turned down his assistance.

“Thanks anyway,” Melina called, her tone absent. Her fingers were poised over the spilled papers and the letter that had fallen from her desk drawer.

“Melina?” Wood called, noticing the look on her dark face.

“I'm okay, Wood,” she said quickly, gathering the other papers and setting them atop her desk. “Seriously, I've got it covered,” she assured, smiling when he nodded and left her office. Letting her easy look fade then, she stood behind the desk with the letter in hand. The French tips of her nails brushed across the envelope which bore only her first name scribbled across the front. She was seconds away from opening the envelope, knowing the contents by heart and knowing they would only torture her emotions for the millionth time. On cue, it seemed, her private line buzzed.

“Thank you,” Melina whispered, setting the letter back to its resting place inside her top desk drawer. Clearing her throat, she pulled the phone from its cradle. “Hello?” she answered.

“Melina? This is Josephine.”

 

“Sheila McPhereson.”

County returned the smile to the woman who had just introduced herself as Stefan Lyons's assistant. She'd just arrived for her appointment with Dark Squires and was more than ready for the meeting to commence.

“Right this way, Ms. Warren,” Sheila said with a wave past her desk. “Mr. Lyons has been anticipating your meeting since you called.”

“Well then, that's something we have in common,” County said, smoothing both hands across the teal green asymmetrical skirt she wore with a white scooped neck tee. She hadn't bothered to dress in her most severe business attire for the meeting. Stefan Lyons was not someone she had any desire to impress. Besides, she wanted to be comfortable when she told the man to go to hell and take his bullying, scavenging piece of crap company with him.

The executive floor of Dark Squires vastly differed from its lower levels, which were accessible only by glass stairway to the fifth floor. A visitor had a breathtaking view of the starkly designed company offices and cubicles that housed the loud, fast-talking wheelers and dealers of all sizes and colors. Following Sheila McPhereson down the wing to Stefan Lyons's office, however, County could tell there would be none of that there. The soft hum of the cooling system could have been relaxing, except it wasn't. The luxurious carpet, thick and giving beneath the soles of her teal wedge-heeled sandals should have been inviting, but it only reminded her more of the calm before the storm.

Still, Contessa managed to maintain her smile regardless of how faint it was. Her eyes harbored unmasked suspicion and intensity as Sheila opened the doors leading to the office suite.

“Ms. Warren, it's a pleasure,” Stefan greeted, already heading toward the door as though he'd seen her approach.

Probably has a camera in every corner of the place,
County thought, barely raising her hand when Stefan moved in to shake it.

“That's all Sheila,” he told his assistant without casting a look in her direction. “I hope you're hungry,” he said to County, curving a hand beneath her elbow. “We have smoked salmon, wild rice, pumpernickel rolls, steamed asparagus and apple cake for dessert.”

County nodded, her brown eyes focused as she let Stef lead her farther into the office. “It sounds wonderful, but you may want to hear me out before inviting me to break bread with you.”

“Ms. Warren,” Stef sighed, pressing a hand to the green and gold striped tie he wore with a dark forest green shirt, “can't we start fresh?” he proposed.

“Why? I still don't intend to sell,” Contessa assured him, folding her arms across her chest. “And besides, your remarks to me on the phone practically begged for a more substantial response. I'm here to give you one.”

Stef appeared as though he were trying to shield his humor by pressing his lips together as he cleared his throat. “Please do,” he urged with a slight wave.

“You are an unprofessional jackass,” she began without hesitation, leaning forward slightly to hold his eyes captive with her own. “You made your fortune off the backs of businesses already established and profitable. You're a parasite who gets even nastier when your
gracious
offers aren't welcomed with open arms. Yes, Mr. Lyons I've asked around about your company and I'm aware of your not so nice reputation.”

“You don't get to be a success in this business by playing nice, Ms. Warren,” Stef shared in a polite, albeit strained tone of voice.

County nodded as though she were agreeing. “Well, I suppose that would depend on a person's sense of ethics and
you
have the ethics of an alleycat scavenging anywhere he can find—whether it's already spoken for and off limits or not.”

Stef's shoulders tensed beneath the worsted fabric of his suit. “In my defense of Dark Squires's interest in your House, it was my partner who was most determined in acquiring it.”

“Mmm-hmm…”

“I swear to you, Ms. Warren,” Stefan raised his hand, defensively, and then turned to head back toward the imposing desk at the rear of the office. “However after I did my own…homework, I found that Contessa House was a very lucrative business. It would make a fine addition to this company.”

“And where is this partner of yours?” County asked, while following Stefan deeper into the office. “Or is he too much of a coward to meet with me face-to-face?” she presumed.

The phone sounded then and Stefan raised his finger in silent request that County excuse him. He spoke only a few seconds with Sheila, before ending the call. “My assistant tells me my partner just entered the building and is on his way up now.”

County only shrugged.

Stef clasped his hands and fixed her with a solemn smile. “I should apologize, Ms. Warren. I don't expect you to believe this, but speaking with you in person has certainly opened my eyes. I'm sorry that it hasn't done the same for my partner.”

Blinking, County stepped closer to the desk. “Have I met with him before?” she asked.

Stefan put on his most convincing look of innocence. “According to the things he's said, I believe you might've,” he shook his head. “It's like he was obsessed with taking your publishing house, but he knew it'd have to be done delicately because you were no fool. It'd take much wining, dining and other things he said he'd take great pleasure in, considering what a beauty you are. I'm sorry,” he whispered when she blinked in obvious surprise, “it's just that my partner was very taken by you. He said that once he, um,
worked you,
was how he put it, you'd be willing to sign anything”

Contessa's lashes fluttered. “Bastards. The both of you,” she spoke in a voice shuddering with contempt. “Just who is your partner to try and deceive me out of my business and God knows what else?”

A quick knock rapped on Stef's door before it opened.

“Ah, here he is now! Contessa Warren, this is my partner, Fernando Ramsey.”

A
nyone who knew Contessa Warren well, knew nothing surprised her. Ever. If it did, she never showed it. Her heart didn't race, her eyes didn't widen and she was never afflicted by a sudden shortness of breath. It was the only reason her closest friends had never thrown her a surprise party.

In the time she'd known Fernando Ramsey, however, he'd managed to surprise her every time she was in his presence. She was almost beginning to think she'd know nothing but happy surprises where the man was concerned.
Told you Mick,
she mused silently.

“Well, I'm sure you two have much to discuss,” Stef said, acting every bit the gracious host. “If you'll excuse me, I'll just—”

“Don't bother,” County interjected, with a flip wave. “I'm leaving,” she decided and braced herself as she headed towards the door and Fernando. Once there, she did her best not to touch any part of his massive, hard body.

Fernando's handsome caramel-toned face possessed the look of a lost little boy. He was helpless to think of anything to say. “County” was the most he could managed in a whisper. He reached for her arm, but she angled clear and left the office.

“Damn,” Stef sighed, a satisfied smile on his face. “That's one fiery bitch.”

Fernando's hands clenched into fists and he closed his eyes but a moment before turning to bound toward his partner. A second later, one of those massive fists smashed into Stef's face. The man yelped in pain, falling back against the corner of his desk.

“Dammit Fern!” he cried, through clenched teeth that were now crimson with blood. “You broke my damn jaw!”

Without a care for his partner's cries of pain, Fernando locked his hand around Stef's throat and squeezed. “Not yet, but don't worry, I'll be back to make it happen,” he promised in the calmest of voices.

Fernando stormed out of the office, leaving Stef looking after him with a murderous stare.

 

“Dammit,” County hissed, “come on,” she urged, slamming her fist against the elevator buttons—praying one of the cars would arrive and save her from having to face Fernando again. No such luck, she realized, closing her eyes when she heard his deep voice rumble her name down the corridor. Giving up on the elevator, she headed for the stairwell. She was pressing down upon the door lever when he caught her.

“County stop,” he urged, folding a hand over the lever and preventing the door from opening. “Let me explain,” he pleaded when she snatched her hand from beneath his. His engrossing translucent brown eyes were filled with uncertainty and fear.

“There's no need to explain,” County said when she turned to face him.

“You need to understand this,” he said, taking hold of her upper arms as he leaned down to look directly into her deep brown eyes.

County blinked, sending a lone tear streaming down her cheek. “Why?” she asked, grimacing when she brushed away remnants of the tear. “Why now? Why now and why not before?”

“There was never a good time,” he sighed in regret while his hands trembled slightly on her arms.

County rolled her eyes. “Not even when I told you what I knew about the ship?”

“County, it just wasn't—”

“The right time?” she challenged and nodded. “Let me go,” she asked, eventually sounding defeated.

Fernando shook his head, his hold tightening. “Never,” he swore.

“Fernando please, I—I need to get out—out of here. I can't hear you. I just can't hear you now.”

“When?”

“I don't know.”

“Can I call you later?”

County flashed him a despairing look. She had to get out of there—away from him and knew she wouldn't be in any more of a mood to talk to him later than she was at that very moment. Still, she nodded, hearing his sigh of relief. The second he released her, she dashed into an opening elevator car.

 

Quest smiled, sparking his deep left dimple. He inhaled the familiar honey-almond scent of his wife's glossy blue-black curls as his hands moved in slow, circular sweeps along her shoulder blades and spine.

Michaela snuggled her head deeper into the cushioning of the recliner they both shared.

“Hey, hey,” Quest urged, patting his hand against her hip. “I don't know how long this chair can hold the both of us, so don't move around so much.”

Mick shook her head. “The longer I'm pregnant, the worse your jokes get.”

“I thought you liked my jokes?” Quest whined, pretending to be hurt.

Mick clenched her fist in triumph. “Yaay, I still have him fooled folks.”

Quest pulled her back more tightly against him. “The minute the baby is born I'm carrying you off and giving you what you deserve,” he warned.

Mick chuckled. “That'll be pretty tough, Pop, with a newborn screaming down the house.”

“Ahh…my little girl will look out for me,” he predicted.

“Is that right?” Mick sighed, contentment filling her voice and glowing on her dark face.

Quest nodded. “Mmm-hmm, I think she'll give me more than enough time to have my way with you.”

Mick giggled and resituated herself to face her husband on the mammoth-sized black La-Z-Boy. “And what way is that, Mr. Ramsey,” she taunted.

Quest simply cupped her cheek and held her still for his kiss. Simple pecks began to pepper Mick's lips, before his tongue outlined their fullness. She gasped, feeling his thumb rubbing her achy nipples beneath the soft cotton of her flaring lavender tee. The kiss deepened and was growing more heated when the front door slammed.

“County?” Mick called, seeing her friend hurry past the den door.

After a few moments, Contessa stuck her head inside the room. “Hey y'all,” she greeted.

“Hey, you feel up to shopping and lunch?” Mick asked, propping her chin on Quest's shoulder as she spoke.

County massaged her eyes. “Girl, I really just wanna stay in for the rest of the night.”

Mick sat up a bit. “Are you okay?” she asked, finally tuning into the weariness surrounding her friend.

Suddenly, County broke into an uncharacteristic display of tears and waved her hand. “I'm sorry,” she whispered, before racing upstairs.

“Hey, wait, wait a minute,” Quest urged, when he saw that Mick was ready to go after her. “Give her a minute.”

“Dammit Quest, didn't you see her crying?” Mick snapped, straining against his hold.

“I know, I know,” he soothed, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Just give her a minute to get herself together. Where's she going, but upstairs? Talk to her later, all right?”

Mick looked towards the den doorway, and then finally conceded with a quick nod. She resumed her place on the recliner and let her husband continue his massage.

 

After a long cry on the bed, Contessa washed her face and spent time overlooking the gorgeous backyard from her balcony. She called herself a fool at least fifty times. How in the world could she think Fernando Ramsey was the least bit interested or in love with her? How could he be, when she literally picked him up at a party, screwed his brains out and gave him an open invitation for more? No man in his right mind would turn down such an arrangement.

Now, she was angry because he'd lied to her?
Someone has to respect you before you can even expect truthfulness, County,
she told herself. Even then, it was still a hard thing to obtain. It was fun while it lasted and besides, she knew he'd been keeping something from her…so why did it still feel like her heart was shredding?

“Because you should be keeping your mind on business, idiot,” she berated herself and grabbed her cell phone from the small round claw-foot table near the French doors. She smiled when the connection was made. Spivey's boisterous voice filtered through as he shouted orders to someone in the office before turning his attention to the phone.

“This is Spivey.”

“Contessa here.”

“Well hey!” Spivey called, chuckling at the sound of County's voice. “How's it goin' out there?”

“Fine, fine. Mick's good—big,” County teased, joining in when Spivey laughed. “It sounds like you're busy?” she noted.

“Ah, a few slackers taking their time about shipping out some review copies. I had to crack down.”

County shook her head over Spivey's playfully authoritative tone. “So what's new with our biggest upcoming release?”

“Well, I managed to wangle a few minutes to talk with the owner of the travel agency. The one responsible for getting the girls work on the ship,” Spivey explained.

County nodded. “Can you get me on the ship?”

“I don't think that's such a good idea, County.”

“Now Spivey—”

“Wait a minute,” he urged softly, “just hear me out, all right? Now this slimy agency owner would only tell me that this ship is for men only. He made it clear that it was nothing a woman would want to be a part of.”

“Unless you're working there, right?”

“It could be dangerous Contessa.”

“Why don't you let me worry about that?”

“I don't like it.”

“Spivey please. Look, whatever's going on out there, I need to see it for myself. So work on devising a ruse to get me out there—tell 'em I'm one of the new girls or something—”

“County—”

“Call me when I'm all set…Spive?”

“All right…all right, all right I'm on it,” he promised.

Sighing once the connection broke, County tossed the phone aside and then resumed her gazing from the balcony. Her absent gaze softened when she heard the quick, insistent rapping on her bedroom door and the sound of Michaela's voice.

“County? Are you okay?” she whispered.

“Quest told me to leave you alone,” Mick said when County opened the door. She glanced across her shoulder before easing into the room and shutting the door behind her. “I was worried, did something happen?”

“Not what you're thinking,” County assured, pulling Mick into a hug. “I had a meeting at Dark Squires. They're the company trying to take the house.”

“Dark Squires? Oh, no,” Mick groaned and closed her eyes when she pulled out of the hug. “Fernando's company. And you didn't know?” she asked, watching County nod. “Oh, sweetie, I'm so sorry. I had no idea you didn't know that was his business.”

“It's okay,” County whispered and enveloped Mick into another hug. “I don't really want to talk about it, though. Is that okay?”

Mick looked into County's eyes and patted her cheek. “It's more than okay. You just take it easy, huh?”

“Mick?” County called, just as her friend prepared to step out of the room. “I don't want to talk to anyone.”

Mick didn't need to be told who “anyone” was and nodded. “Get some rest,” she ordered before leaving.

 

“To hell with it,” Fernando muttered and continued on past the gates leading up to Quest and Mick's home. Contessa had told him she needed time, but he couldn't give her that. Besides, this was Seattle. She lived in Chicago. Hell, she already had distance—time was a luxury he couldn't afford.

He'd called himself a fool for not telling her about Dark Squires. After all their conversations, he couldn't find a way to ease in that choice bit of information. No wonder she thought he didn't respect her—had no use for her save the obvious.

Shaking the thought from his head, Fernando haphazardly parked his Ford F150 in the horseshoe drive, reached for his cellular and dialed the number.

 

“You good?” Quest asked, checking the temperature of the bubble bath he'd just run for his wife.

Michaela only smiled serenely as she eased down into the sunken gray marble tub. Her contentment was short-lived when the phone rang. Mick closed her hand over Quest's forearm when he rose to answer the call. “County doesn't want to talk to Fernando,” she told him.

He only smiled, dropping a kiss to her forehead before he stood. “Relax and enjoy your bath,” he ordered, deciding to take the phone in their bedroom.

“Hey man, I know she doesn't want to hear anything from me” were the first words Fernando spoke to his cousin.

“What the hell happened?” Quest asked, casting a quick look across his shoulder.

“Somehow, Stef arranged for her to have a meeting at Dark Squires. He made sure I was there.”

Quest closed his eyes and grunted. “Hell, man, I always told you that fool was dangerous,” he said, referring to Stefan.

“I wish I'd listened. Man, help me out here, all right?”

“Where are you?” Quest asked.

“Right outside your front door.”