Anywhere (BBW Romance) (2 page)

“It’s me, Ram.”

“
Ari
.” My name was a breathless statement. “What is wrong? Talk to me.”

“Four men burst into my apartment.” I swall
owed hard, wincing at the lingering pain in my throat. “They were looking for you, Ram. So
you
talk to
me
. What have you gotten yourself into?”

I didn’t speak Turkish, and I understood very little beyond
aşkım
, which meant ‘my love,’ but I knew Ram was cursing like a sailor in his native tongue. Call it instinct, or simply because I knew him well enough after five years.

“Are you hurt?” He seemed to hold his breath, as though my reply would determine everything.

“I…” I sighed, my fingers grazing along my sore neck. “I’m fine.”

There was a pause, like he was debating whether or not to push.
“Where are you?” he demanded. This was the man who stepped in and took care of me when my father died; he took charge, did whatever needed to be done, even when it seemed impossible.

“I’m down the hall in Mrs. Horace’s apartment.”

He took a deep breath. “I want you to listen to me,
Ari
. It is not safe for you there. You are not safe anymore, do you understand me?”

My heart picked up its pace as his words sunk in. I crossed my right arm over my chest, tucking it beneath my left. It was August, still summer technically and still hot outside, yet I was suddenly cold. “I understand.”

The moment the words left my mouth, the sky opened up. Rain beat the roof, echoing two floors down to where I was. Flying downwards at an angle, it slapped against the apartment windows, making the minute sounds impossible to hear.

“There is a house just outside of town. I want
you to go there, but you have to be careful. You-” The phone muffled, it sounded as though he pressed it to his chest, perhaps trying to recompose himself.

I knew Ram cared about me. I didn’t know if he loved me, but he deeply cared for me, and I often didn’t understand why.

I wasn’t rich or successful by any stretch. I was a few hours shy of a full time secretary at a real estate office. They’d asked me repeatedly when I was going to get my license, but I always brushed off the inquisition.

Growing up, I changed my mind about my future career at least once a week. Now pushing thirty,
I still didn’t know what I wanted to do or be. All I knew was that I was content to simply be a secretary for the moment. I enjoyed the only moderately stressful position, the flexible hours and casual professional dress code. I made enough to pay what I needed; I could barely keep the minimum in my savings account, but I survived.

Miami is a town full of exotic women with bikini bodies on display year round, and I was
the plus size woman that laid by the hotel pool in her black one-piece swimsuit with a sarong tied around her waist for further coverage. The most daring part of the entire ensemble was cutouts of sheer black on the sides of the suit that weren’t even visible from every vantage point.

I wasn’t ugly, but I wasn’t the world’s definition of beautiful. I had brown hair, brown eyes and a plethora of pale flesh that didn’t see the sun
often enough. My nose was slightly upturned, my top lip was thinner than my bottom and I had a small mole to the right of my top lip that did not work for me the way
Cindy Crawford
’s did.

I was an extra large woman with boobs, butt, thighs, gut, arm flab and every other kind of flab in between. My one saving grace was that my creator decided to distribute my fat as evenly as possible, if a bit bottom heavy. I wasn’t merely a blob of adipose
, or so I told myself for comfort.

Hourglass or not, I still wasn’t a size two. I wasn’t even a size twelve, but it didn’t matter to Ram. He treated me better than any man had or probably ever would. He made me feel beautiful, even on my worst days. He assured me I was worthy of his affection; he assured me of many things.

“
Ari
, those men will be watching you. You will have to sneak past them. Get to your car. Put it in gear and drive. Do not look back. Stop for nothing and stop for no one, not even the police.”

My chest tightened, constricting my rapidly beating heart. It was more serious than I thought if the police couldn’t be trusted.

All I had to go on was Hollywood’s depiction. Flashes of scenes from TV shows and movies crowded my mind, amplifying my distress. What on earth could he have gotten himself into?

“I know you are probably scared,
Ari
. It makes me sick, but you are right to be. I promise, if you get to the house, you will be safe, and I promise that I will meet you there in two hours.” I could almost picture him looking at his watch. Ram had never broken a promise to me.

He gave me the address of the home along with some directions. Apparently it was tucked away and difficult to find from the main road, which added to its safe guards. “Be careful,
aşkım
. I will be with you soon.”

I didn’t want to hang up.
I wasn’t ready to let him go, to let go of him. So long as he was talking me through, I was confident, somewhat secure in my chances, because he would never steer me wrong. But without him…

Abruptl
y, I had the urge to tell him all I hadn’t confessed, just in case I didn’t make it, yet it didn’t come out. My lips parted, prepared to deliver the emotional passage, but, rather, I found myself saying, “See you soon, Ram.”

I
’d heard the stress in his voice. On the surface, he was the epitome of composed, but inside, I knew he was panicking to some degree like me. I knew he felt the strain of the situation. Plus, not telling him gave me a reason to push harder. I needed to survive so I could see him again, so I could finally tell him how I felt.

Facing death changes you; it makes you realize what is important to you, or, in my case, who. I’d known all along, but had never felt the need to force things. I’d been content under the assumption we’d have forever. A threat to that timeline changed things.

“Be careful,
aşkım
. I cannot lose you.”

There was a tight edge
to his soft tone that tunneled straight to my heart, and had me promising, “You won’t.”

I prayed I was right.

Chapter Three

Five
Years Ago …

Miami, Florida

Aeren

“
Perdón, Señorita.
”

I squinted my eyes, wis
hing I’d splurged for the higher end sunglasses to better shade my eyes as I looked up at the male hovering beside my lounger, a fruity concoction in his hand. “Yes?”

“
El mujer
at the bar
gift
this to you.” His Spanish accent was thick. He stood tall, – well, taller than my 5’2”, – and was dressed in head to toe white. Everyone in Miami wore white it seemed. Apparently I didn’t get the memo.

I frowned, my gaze roving past him to the open bar of the hotel. I didn’t splurge on sunglasses because I’d splurged on the hotel, partly in hopes of meeting a billionaire, falling in love, and having his trust fund baby. – Admittedly, I was one billionaire romance book away from too many.

A pair of dark eyes met mine across the way. He looked on with interest, standing casually beside the bar, sipping something strong and manly I was sure. His suit jacket was open; his white button up shirt was undone near the top. One hand was stuffed in a pant pocket; the other was handling his drink. He appeared to be a businessman looking to let loose.

But with me?

I looked to my left and found a gorgeous blonde, with legs for days, in a white bikini, reading an upscale fashion magazine behind the upscale shades I should have purchased, as she lounged in the chair. My stomach lost its tightness, as both relief and disappointment set in.
This must be who he meant to give the drink to.

I gave the server a small smile. “I think you have me confused with someone else. You should probably go check with the man again.”

Poor guy. The young male looked all of twenty and very confused. He seemed uncertain on what to do next. “Uh,
si, Señorita. Perdón.
”

Sighing, I watched him retreat for a moment before going back to my book, back into a world, albeit fictional, where the big girl got the sexy hero. Well, actually, where the big girl was brave enough to
indulge in the sexy hero.

It’s so sad. I’d day dreamed of this exact scenario before my vacation, thinking of how flattering and fantastic it would be, yet, when the moment arose, I froze before pawning off the gesture to the blonde besi
de me. Pathetic was what it was, a lost opportunity. At the very least, if it was a mistake on the server’s part, I could have spoken to the handsome guy at the bar. It may not have been lust at first sight for him, but he could have been a good guy with a good sense of humor and an open mind. Heck. He could have become a friend with a guest room in another city, which would have cut my travel expenses in half next time.

And
Poof!
It was gone. Surrendered and burned by yours truly.

Regret
seemed to anchor itself in the pit of my stomach. I stared blankly at the pages before me, trying not to berate myself too harshly. I wasn’t succeeding.

“In my country, it is rude to refuse an offering.”
His voice was deep, arousing, with just enough husk around his enunciation.

Lifting my head, I was shocked to find the tall, dark and handsome businessman sitting, facing me, in the lounge chair beside me.

I bit my lower lip. He was even more attractive up close. His eyes were brown with flecks of dark chocolate and caramel striations. They were soft, yet keen. I knew he saw, noticed, everything.

Dropping my gaze, I took in his empty hands.

He chuckled, low and sexy. “No, I did not come with a bribe this time.”

“I didn’t think it was meant for me,” I admitted.

We stared at each other for a solid minute. Electricity seemed to magnify, crackling between our bodies. It felt trance like, dream like. This energy seemed to swaddle us, blocking all else around us out. For that one minute in time, it was just us, an introduction of souls.

He broke away, his gaze doing a peripheral sweep before returning to me. Up and down, he took me in. “What is a beautiful woman like you doing in such a dirty city?”

Feeling my brows furrow, I focused on him. “Was that a backhanded compliment?” I didn’t know what to make of him. I was pretty sure he was here alone, so I couldn’t be a prank to him and his buddies, but he had to be working some sort of angle, particularly considering the beauty I was lying beside.

Perhaps
our chemistry a moment ago was a figment of my imagination. It wouldn’t be the first time lust-filled attraction was one sided, specifically, single-handedly from my side. I was horrible at picking men, and even worse at reading them. One would think years of practice being hurt repeatedly by the opposite sex would be enough of an education, but it wasn’t. I was still a magnet for the wrong ones, and I was still naïve, a hopeless romantic craving a storybook ending that would probably never come.

I studied the book in my lap, debating whether to walk away with my pride in tact or to indulge him, to take the chance I’d regretted not taking before.

Meeting his gaze head on, I shrugged my shoulders. “I wanted to get away from reality for a few days.” I shifted higher in my seat. “Are you here for business or pleasure?”

His gaze openly roamed me yet again. I could have sworn his irises darkened. “Business.” He paused before continuing, “But a good man always has time for pleasure.”

I couldn’t place his accent. It was thick, yet he enunciated the English words well. “If you don’t mind me asking, what nationality are you?”

He watched me closely, as keenly aware of me as ever. “I will tell you at dinner tonight.”

The mystery only further intrigued me. The man was a mystery, a mystery draped in nice clothes, a sexy physique and an alluring international accent.

I leaned forward; a smile split my face, giving me away as I narrowed my gaze on him. “Who said I was having dinner with you?”

Was I actually playing hard to get? I was. Shit, I was really going for it. To hell with stereotypes, insecurities and hang-ups. I was doing this. I didn’t want the only vacation I’d been able to afford in three years to be one big pile of regrets.

He stood, giving me a delicious
view of him, all of him. He was a statue of lean muscle I wanted to drape myself across. “I will see you at six,” he informed me.

I frowned, halting my dirty mind long enough to think logically. “You don’t even know my name.”

Peering down at me, his eyes glistened with humor. “Your name will not tell me who you are.”

My breath caught as he leaned in and kissed my cheek.

“Do not make me chase you,
aşkım.
” He walked away, hands in his pockets. He never glanced back; he was the epitome of calm, cool and collected.