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Authors: Tressie Lockwood

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BOOK: Belle and Valentine
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“I wanted you long before that,” he said.

She stopped and glanced over her shoulder at him. No teasing smile lit his face or mocking light in his eyes.

“I wanted you long before my first time, Zuria.”

Chapter Two

“He’s rude and inappropriate, and he has a one-track mind,” Zuria complained to Sam. Her brother said nothing. He continued to sweep the floor, and Zuria huffed, hands on her hips. The shop wouldn’t open until six a.m., so they had another half hour, and she had come down to help Sam set up since Fane never showed before noon. “Thank you for not telling him about Richard, but it made no difference. He still came on to me. I think he has some secret goal of sleeping with every woman in the county.”

The broom paused, but Sam only reached up to scratch his ear. She glared at the back of his head.

“Are you listening to me?”

“Yes,” he said. “You’re attracted to him, and it pisses you off.”

“Sam!”

He left the room and returned with the dustpan. Zuria sighed. She continued to take down chairs from the tables. “I don’t know how he knew about Richard.”

“I knew because there was an announcement in the business section of the paper. He was kind of a hotshot in your area, right?”

Zuria whirled toward the door and found Fane standing there. “Why are you here?”

Fane winked. The man looked good for so early in the morning still in jeans—this time blue,—that hugged muscular thighs. The crotch of said pants looked like he had more than the average man down there. Zuria forced her gaze from that spot to his face to find an amused and knowing expression.

“I believe I work here,” he said.

“You’ve never rolled out of bed before lunch,” she shot back.

He waved a hand. “Once or twice. So, about your husband…”

“No one was discussing anything with you.” She flounced toward the kitchen to find something to do, but Sam had baked everything already. Her cooking skills were decent but didn’t compare to her brother’s, who had gone to culinary school.

The kitchen door swung open, and Fane walked in. He strode straight to her and yanked her into his arms. She opened her mouth to demand to know what Fane thought he was doing only to find her lips covered with his. Brain function for speech short-circuited, and then he pushed his tongue into her mouth, and she forgot herself enough to moan. Fane slid a hand down to her ass, and she shrieked, this time shoving with all her might to get away from him.

“You…you…” she stuttered. “You’re disgusting.”

His eyebrow went up. “That moan didn’t sound like disgust.”

“It was a fluke.”

He chuckled.

“Look, I don’t know how you’ve been doing it in Aves with all these women like Dixie Ann, who are all chomping at the bit to get just a second of your attention, but I’m not the one.” She moved around the island counter in case he—or she—was tempted to repeat the kiss. “You’re right. My husband is dead, just three months ago, actually, and I think you would respect the fact that I am in mourning for his loss.”

She didn’t tell him it had been six months ago she had learned of Richard’s unfaithfulness and seven before that since they had last been intimate. Richard had pretended he was run down from work and even hinted at issues getting it up from all the stress. Knowing the real reason he no longer wanted to touch her was both humiliating and heartbreaking, but she had dealt with it. So “mourning” wasn’t exactly what she was doing now.

Fane walked over to the refrigerator and brought out a platter of Sam’s pound cake, which he had already sliced, ready to restock the front case. Fane removed two pieces and served them on saucers. Then he poured them both a cup of coffee Sam had made earlier. He pushed the offering toward her, and Zuria muttered her grudging thanks.

Fane ate half his cake in one bite and downed most of his coffee. “Come for a ride on Shelley tonight.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re still calling your motorcycle Shelley?”

He shrugged.

“Why won’t you give up? I’ve never given in to you before. I’m not going to now.”

“You will.”

She frowned at him.

He set his cup down and walked around the counter. She stumbled backward a step but didn’t want him to think she feared him and held her ground. That just left her open for him to pin her in place with one hand on either side of her hips and standing too damn close.

“I let you leave Aves five years ago, with a man who everyone knew was just a means for you to escape. That’s not going to happen again. He’s gone. You’re mine. It’s as simple as that.”

“I loved Richard!”

“You didn’t take his name.”

“So? Lots of women do that.”

“Who was he with when he died, Zuria?”

The bottom dropped out of her senses. “W-What?”

“You heard me.”

Fane had been this way from as far back as she’d known him, blunt, not sparing anyone’s feelings. If one wanted to bury one’s head in the sand and ignore the real truth, one had better not talk to Fane Valentine. He had no problem spelling it out with no sugar coating whatsoever. By the time she found out her parents’ house was up for foreclosure—another secret Sam kept to himself—it was too late for her to appeal to Richard to help. She had learned later Fane had told Sam he had the money, but he would not offer it for a broken-down house that neither Sam nor Zuria truly wanted. Their parents had both passed on, and the house lay empty. Zuria had desired to hold on to the last connection to her mom and dad, and she had assumed Sam felt the same. Fane had instead put up ninety percent of the money for their coffee shop because it was Sam’s dream to own one. Zuria couldn’t exactly fault Fane for that, but he still pissed her off.

She laid her hand on his forearm and gave it a push. Fane didn’t budge, and she felt the tense muscles beneath her palm, sending warmth to her core. “It’s none of your business.”

“He was with—”

“Shut up!” To her horror, tears sprung to her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. Fane dragged her into his arms, and she held onto to his shirt, balling her fingers into the material, and buried her face in his neck. She shook, feeling so stupid and lame, hating her weakness.

Fane stroked her back, for once doing as she asked and saying nothing. She clung to him, breathing in his familiar scent, the aching now more than about the loss of her carefully built life, the dashing of all of her plans. Fane had spoken the truth about her wanting him, but she had never intended to give in to it. Still, when he raised her chin and covered her lips with his, she parted them, inviting his tongue. He delved inside, sending tiny jolts of electricity coursing through her veins and bringing her libido to life. She circled his waist and pressed closer, taking the kiss deeper. Fane raised his head, leaving her bereft, but he used a rough thumb to brush the tears from her cheeks.

“Ride with me,” he murmured, his lips grazing hers.

Temptation overwhelmed her. She started to tell him no, but he kissed her again, cupping her face between his two big palms. She sagged into his chest, aching with need. “I…”

“Just a ride,” he said, but he went on planting kisses on her lips, her cheeks, her chin, her throat. He was killing her. “Let go for once. Have a little fun.”

She pulled from his arms, and he released her. “Just a ride, Fane. Nothing else.”

He raised his hands, palms facing her. “I won’t make love to you until you ask me to.”

She glared at him, and he smiled.
Bastard!

“Fine, I’ll go.”

Whatever else they might have said to each other was lost when Dixie Ann burst into the kitchen, too damn chipper for early morning. She found reasons to engage Fane in conversation and to touch him, and Fane didn’t discourage her. The way he bent his head to listen to the blonde had Zuria rethinking her decision to go for a ride with him, and she reminded herself that even if she did, she would not give in to anything more. Richard had already proven men couldn’t be trusted when it came to women throwing themselves at their heads. When several more female customers throughout the day pressed numbers into Fane’s hand and gave open signs they were available if he was interested, Zuria told Sam she had business to attend to and left the shop. No matter what it was, she would find work elsewhere so she wouldn’t have to witness Fane’s seduction of the women of Aves anymore.

****

Zuria left the upstairs apartment and descended into the coffee shop. The customers had all gone home, and the scent of something delicious wafting from the kitchen said that’s where Sam was, preparing for the next day. She stuck her head in.

“Don’t you get tired of putting in such long hours? You need a life, little brother.”

He raised his eyebrow at her, and she laughed.

“Don’t give me that look. You are the little brother. I’m a whole two years older at the ripe old age of thirty-two.” She groaned at the admission, thinking she heard her ovaries shriveling as she spoke. “You’d make an awesome house husband.”

A dishtowel flew toward her head, and she jumped back, letting the door close before the towel struck.

“I won’t be out late,” she called to him and walked outside to wait for Fane.

Downtown Aves rolled up the sidewalks at sundown. The only sounds she picked up were music from the bar a block over on Artemis Road. She breathed in the fresh, clean air, and a slight scent of the nearby river reached her. Memories came flooding back, of her and her high school friends hanging out there at night. She imagined it was still the spot for teens to make out. Nothing ever changed in Aves.

By the time she remembered she didn’t want to look too eager to see Fane by standing outside the shop, the motorcycle had already come roaring down the road. Zuria paused with her hand on the door handle to go back inside, and Fane stopped feet away at the curb.

He flashed his even, white smile at her beneath the streetlights, and the shadows along with his dark clothing made him look sinister. Her heart hammered in her throat, and she froze.

“Are you running away, little rabbit?” he whispered.

She straightened. “Why should I? Nobody’s scared of you!”

“Then come here.” He held out his hand. “Get on.”

Why the hell did it seem like he was inviting her to get on something other than his bike? She pressed her lips together and approached him. With a few quick movements, she had settled behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. Stupid desire threatened to make her pass out, but she buried it. Fane started the engine, and they were off, the buildings whipping by, her hair blowing in the wind. A thrill raced over her, and she felt the ties that held her down slipping away.

They rode for miles, just enjoying the warm summer night. When they came up on a roadside gas station, Fane pulled into the lot and helped her off the bike. She followed him into the store and strode along the short aisles. Zuria chose a bag of chips and some gum. She watched Fane in another aisle grab a couple of sodas from the refrigerator case. A woman sidled up next to him and started chatting while twirling her hair around a finger. Were women still doing that move, Zuria wondered. Fane flashed a smile, and Zuria stuffed her chips and gum onto a shelf and started for the exit. A strong arm encircled her waist and drew her backward. She looked over her shoulder to find Fane and glared at him.

“Hang on while I pay for this. Did you want the chips and gum?” He pointed to where she’d put the snacks, and she wondered about him. He always seemed to be aware of her, maybe when she didn’t even know it, like how he’d known about Richard. Was he that dedicated to getting every woman he desired? Perhaps that was why they all wanted him.

No, she’d seen women flocking around Fane from day one, even those he hadn’t noticed. The man exuded all that a mother warned her daughter to avoid if she didn’t want her heart crushed.

“I guess so,” Zuria said, and she went to retrieve the items. Ignoring the hateful glance from the woman who had been talking to Fane, Zuria returned to the cashier, and Fane paid for everything.

When they were back on the road, he shouted to her, “You have to stop getting angry every time a woman talks to me. Just because they do doesn’t mean I want them or that I’ll take them up on what they’re offering.”

“Makes me no difference. This is a one-time date—I mean ride.”

His chuckle floated on the wind.

Sometime later, Fane pulled off the road onto a well-worn gravel path. Zuria glanced around her when he came to a stop. “I don’t recognize this place.”

Fane climbed from the motorcycle and lifted her off. She moved out of his grasp as soon as her feet touched the ground. Trees surrounded them, but the scent of water was in the air.

“Sam and I used to come out here when we wanted to get away,” Fane said. He pointed to the tops of the trees. “There’s a clearing not far from here where you can see the owls flying around, looking for food.”

“You came here at night?”

He nodded. “We used to sneak out.”

“It doesn’t surprise me that you would.” She followed him, and he held aside branches all along the way to keep them from scratching her face. “I found it odd Sam and you became friends with you being five years older.”

“Not much choice in Aves. Plus, Sam’s an old soul.”

She laughed. “Yeah, that’s true. But I think the ‘choice’ had to do with you beating up most of the boys your age.”

“Not my fault.”

“Of course not,” she quipped.

They came upon the clearing he mentioned, and Zuria gasped at the natural beauty. With the moon shining brightly, she took in the bed of thick grass, surrounded by tall, majestic trees. At the top, she spotted a dark shape or two, not sure what it was until the bird called out, “
Who. Who.”

“It is owls!”

He leaned in so his lips were close to her ear. “Be careful they don’t take you for a little mouse and try to snatch you up.”

She elbowed him in the gut and winced at the pain for her efforts. “I thought I was a little rabbit.”

His hands settled on her hips, and he stepped closer from behind. “What you are is sexy. That blouse is killing me.”

BOOK: Belle and Valentine
2.99Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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