Hideaway (13 page)

“Y
ou’re kidding, aren’t you?” Disbelief was apparent in the tone of her voice.

Martin sat down on a rocker and unlaced his running shoes, the muscles in his back rippling sensuously under his brown skin as he bent over. He removed the shoes and slouched down in the rocker, stretching out his long legs and crossing his bare feet at the ankles. From where he sat his face was hidden in the shadows.

“Will it make you uncomfortable to sleep with me again?” he asked, completely ignoring her query.

“Yes,” she spat out.

He shrugged his bare shoulders. “What do you want me to do?”

“Move into another bedroom.”

“Regina’s in the other bedroom.”

“Then she’ll move in here and you can take her bedroom.”

Martin sat up straight. “Is that what you want, Parris?”

“Yes.”

Martin rose from the chair, gathering his shirt and shoes. He picked up his bags and quietly walked out of the bedroom, leaving her luggage behind.

It really wasn’t what she wanted, but it was the way it had to be. She couldn’t fall back into Martin’s arms and his bed and pretend nothing had happened in the ten years they were apart.

She took the rocker he had vacated, burying her face in her hands. They would spend the week in Ocho Rios, relaxing, then they’d leave to go their separate ways and pick up the pieces of their lives. She would return to New York and Martin would go back to Florida.

She wouldn’t keep him from seeing Regina, and if they wanted to take a family vacation again it could be in Jamaica, Puerto Rico or any place in the world except Florida.

Her hands came down the moment she heard Regina’s voice. “Daddy said I have to sleep with you.”

She smiled at her daughter. “Daddy’s right. You and I are going to have a slumber party every night.”

“I need my bathing suit. I’m going swimming with Uncle Josh.” Regina was more interested in swimming than her parents’ sleeping arrangements.

She unpacked, finding Regina’s suit, then put away all of their clothes in the large armoire. Regina raced out of the house, dressed for swimming, and Parris decided she needed to change out of her own jeans and blouse and into something cooler.

She walked into the adjoining bath, remembering the room’s delightful charm with a large claw-foot blue-veined marble bathtub hidden behind an Oriental ornamental screen. An oval basin sat on a decorative pedestal. White wicker pieces, covered with cushions in aquamarine green added a tropical accent to the space. Hidden away in a far corner was a shower stall.

Parris turned on the tub’s faucet, letting the water run clear, then added pale green crystals from a large glass jar on a shelf near the basin. The cloying fragrance of lilies filled the room, and she quickly stripped off her clothes and stepped into the tepid water and rising bubbles.

A quarter of an hour later, she emerged from the bathroom, her hair twisted in a knot on the top of her head. Dressing quickly, she pulled on a pair of lace underpants under a swingy cotton dress. The loose-fitting garment bared her shoulders and narrow straps crisscrossed her back to the waist.

She left the bedroom through a door which led out to the gallery. Stepping out into the sultry tropical air she was met by the thick scent of wild orchids and magnolias.

Closing her eyes, Parris moved into the strong sunlight, turning her face up to the healing rays. The heat penetrating her body was a soothing balm and she smiled at the calming languid feeling entering her limbs.

“Too much sun too quickly can be dangerous.”

Parris opened her eyes to find Joshua Kirkland leaning against a wrought iron railing about ten feet away from her. She smiled at him. Surprisingly, his skin was deeply tanned.
He should take his own advice
, she thought.

“I’ll be careful,” she remarked.

Joshua moved closer, crossing his arms over his chest. A short sleeve white cotton shirt and shorts highlighted his tropical tan and sharp features, making Parris aware that her host was a very attractive man. His face was unlined, and she guessed he was somewhere between thirty-five and forty. His hair was thick, coarse, and worn close to his scalp. She thought his hair was closer to silver rather than gold.

She shifted uncomfortably as he continued to stare at her with a pair of deep-set ice-green eyes, shivering in spite of the torrid heat. His gaze was mesmerizing and she struggled to free herself from its spell.

“Where’s Martin?” she breathed out in a throaty whisper.

“You’re a beautiful woman, Parris,” Joshua stated quietly, not answering her query. “I can’t decide which I like more—your eyes or your voice.”

Two pairs of eyes—one light and one dark held. Joshua moved closer, his compelling eyes riveting her to the spot. She felt the movement of his breathing and her heart hammered wildly in her ears.

He’s like Martin
, she thought. Joshua had the same appeal as Martin where the very air around her seemed electrified until she had trouble drawing a normal breath.

She wanted to run, but couldn’t. Their gazes were locked as
their chests rose and fell in unison. There was something about the man that frightened yet fascinated her.

Let me go
, she implored him silently.

“Aren’t you going swimming with us, Mommy?” Regina’s voice shattered the stillness of the afternoon.

Joshua lowered his gaze and Parris was mercifully freed from his hypnotic spell as she sagged weakly against the railing.

She managed a smile for her daughter. Regina’s hair hung like a thick rope down her back. “Not right now, angel. I’ll go later this afternoon.”

Regina laughed and shook her wet hair. The braid snapped like a wet tail. She giggled when both her mother and Joshua stepped out of the path of spraying moisture.

“Well, Daddy wanted me to tell you that it’s time to eat.”

Joshua reached over, grasping Regina’s braid and wringing out the excess water. “Let’s say you and I swim again after we eat and relax.”

“I say yes,” Regina agreed.

Parris followed Joshua and Regina to the back of the house where Sable had set up a large table. Martin was helping Sable bring out dishes filled with chilled fresh melon, large boiled shrimp, a piquant sauce for dipping, an array of fresh lettuce leaves, boiled eggs and creme caramel puddings served with blackberries in a cognac and vodka liqueured sauce.

“You can sit here, darling,” Martin said to Parris. He pulled out a chair for her.

She gave him a tender smile and sat down.

The five dined alfresco under the sweeping branches of an ancient banana tree. Brightly colored birds chatted and squalled, hopping nimbly from branch to branch.

Regina was given a coconut shell filled with tropical fruit juices while the four adults sampled a chilled potent concoction of tropical juices liberally laced with one hundred proof Jamaican rum. Parris tasted her sparingly. She had never acquired a fondness for alcoholic beverages.

The heat, food and an ounce of the drink lulled her into a state of total relaxation, and Martin had to repeat his statement before she was able to respond. Nodding in agreement, she stood up.

“A nap sounds like a good idea,” she replied. Her words slurred together in a singsong fashion.

Martin smiled and Joshua studied his long delicate fingers before both of them rose to acknowledge her departure as she led a protesting Regina to their bedroom. Sable also retreated to the house while the two men sat at the table sipping the rum-laced drink.

Martin glanced over at Joshua from under half-lowered lids. “What do you think of her, Josh?”

Joshua’s expression displayed none of what he was feeling as he stared across his property, watching the gentle lapping of waves against the beach. “She’s perfect. Almost too perfect,” he confessed. “Have you told her?”

Martin shook his, head, a frown creasing his forehead. “Not yet.”

“Why?” The single word sounded like a shot.

Martin stirred his drink with a straw. “I don’t know,” he said slowly. “I know I can’t wait too much longer,” he admitted, trying to shake off a feeling of uneasiness.

Martin had planned to seduce Parris, but soon came to realize that she wasn’t the same woman he knew ten years ago. She was no longer a girl in a woman’s body but a full-fledged woman who was in complete control of her life.

“Somehow I have to convince her that I want to marry her because I still love her. Getting her to marry me will probably be less of a hurtle than convincing her to return to Florida with me. And there’s no way I can predict how she’ll react when I tell her that she may be the next first lady of the state of Florida.”

“You managed to get her to come to Jamaica with you, why not Florida?” Joshua questioned.

Martin assumed the familiar gesture of steepling his fingers and bringing his right forefinger to his mouth, but his relaxed stance did not fool Joshua. Martin was not as confident as he appeared.

“She didn’t have much of a choice,” he confessed. “It was because of Regina.” He quickly related how Regina had come
down with a virus and hadn’t recovered as quickly as the doctor originally predicted.

“You’re using the child,” Joshua accused him harshly. He thought of a time in his own life when he’d become a pawn between his parents.

Martin caught Joshua’s meaning immediately and failed to check his quick temper. “Wrong! Don’t forget that I love Parris and that I acknowledge Regina as my child.”

He tossed his cloth napkin on the table and stood up. He stared down at the pale hair and the bold profile, registering pain in Joshua Kirkland for the first time.

“I’m sorry, Josh.”

Joshua sat motionless, only the prominent veins in his slender hands revealing his tension.

Sable came out of the house. She knew all was not right the moment she saw Joshua’s face. He seemed to be carved out of marble.

Martin touched her shoulder and whispered, “I said something I shouldn’t have said. Try to get him to forgive me.”

Sable nodded and smiled. “Don’t worry, Martin. I’ll take care of everything.”

Martin walked along the beach, staring out at the sea. He wanted to go to Parris and tell her of his plans, but couldn’t. Insecurities wouldn’t permit him to tell her of the campaign which he hoped would put him in the Governor’s Mansion in Tallahassee.

The men who had approached him six months ago had presented him with their recommendations: they wanted Martin Diaz Cole to oppose the incumbent governor. Of the nine men, six had voiced reservations as to his marital status. They delicately suggested he would be a better candidate if he had a wife.

He had laughed and told them to forget it. He had no intention of ever marrying. That decision had been taken out of his hands when Parris Simmons left him.

However, the notion of marrying continued to haunt him whenever his thoughts strayed to Parris. At twenty-two, she had
been able to weave her spell over him the way a woman twice her age had been unable to do.

After the meeting with the political strategists, he found his thoughts filled with memories of Parris’s voice and her smile. At business meetings he began seeing images of her flushed face after they had made love and the awe of fulfillment darken her eyes whenever he confessed his love for her. And he also remembered the flashes of fear stealing across her features whenever he mentioned marriage.

She had never disclosed why she had ended her brief marriage to Owen Lawson or why she had come to Martin a virgin. The life she had shared with her ex-husband had remained a closely-guarded secret.

The images of her grew stronger, and his patience shorter until he contacted Joshua Kirkland; the one man whose counterintelligence training made him one of the best in the world had used his own methods to find Parris Simmons for him.

Martin once stood on a beach watching Parris as her ex-husband attempted to drown her. Now he stood on another beach, his heart pounding relentlessly. He was going to marry Parris and he was to become a candidate for governor of Florida.

An undefined emotion swept through his body, and he shuddered violently. He would have both! He refused to think of one without the other.

P
arris lay down beside a sleeping Regina, closed her eyes and fell into her own deep slumber. Within minutes the dream flashed vividly in her mind, the frightening sequences emerging like so many flickering frames on a roll of film: Owen, the black angry waves, Martin making love to her until her mind floated beyond her body, the raspy-voiced abductor, and the unmistakable pressure of the gun barrel biting into her ribs.

She sat up, covering her mouth, whimpering.

It was the second one within two weeks. The nightmare had returned more real than in the past.

Pushing aside the mosquito netting draping the bed, Parris stumbled across the room and opened the door leading out to the gallery.

Sinking down to the white tiles surrounding the house, she pressed her back to the wrought iron railing and closed her eyes, trying to slow down the runaway beating of her heart. She was in the same spot when Martin returned from his walk along the beach.

Martin knew something was wrong the moment he saw her strained profile. Quickening his step, he went to his knees and pulled her limp body to his, cradling her face against his shoulder.

“What’s wrong, Parris?” His hot breath seared her ear.

“Nothing, Martin.” Her voice was low, her tone flat and expressionless.

“Are you sure?” Martin asked, not believing her.

“Yes.” There was nothing wrong
now
. She was awake and the nightmare was gone.

“If nothing’s wrong, then what are you doing sitting out here in the sun?” The thumb of his right hand swept over her cheekbones, feeling the build-up of heat in her face.

“I just couldn’t sleep,” Parris admitted. Why, she thought, why had the nightmares come back? She hadn’t had one in ten years, but now that Martin had walked back into her life they also were back. Were the dreams a foreboding? Did Martin’s presence foreshadow a danger to her and Regina? Or to all three of them?

Martin rose to his feet, pulling her up with him. “Why don’t you come swimming with me?”

Her head came up quickly and she stared at him, remembering the first time they had come to Ocho Rios ten years before and swam nude. They had spent a week at the house and never used their bathing suits.

Martin smiled sensuously, also remembering their early morning and late night playful encounters in the water.

“I’d rather not, Martin.” She did not want a repeat of anything which brought back memories of her life with Martin before she was forced to leave him.

Martin hid his disappointment well. “How about going for a walk?”

Parris shook her head. “Regina’s still asleep.”

“I’ll ask Joshua and Sable to look out for her.”

“They’re not her baby-sitters,” she argued softly.

His fingers tightened around her bare upper arms. “I don’t think either of them will mind looking after her for what—an hour or less. Go get your shoes and I’ll tell Joshua we’re going for a walk,” he suggested when he noted her indecision.

He released her, letting out his breath slowly as she turned and retreated into the house. He knew he couldn’t intimidate Parris. He had never been able to do that. But he had been able to seduce her; now even seduction was a part of their pasts.

He still wanted her; wanted her with a burning which wouldn’t permit him to sleep; a burning which made him feel edgy and ill-tempered; tense and off-balanced.

He had suggested the trip to Jamaica as much for himself as for Regina, thinking that if he returned to the place where he had confessed and poured out his love for Parris it would right all of the wrongs of the past ten years.

It was almost like returning to the scene of a traumatic incident wherein one would be forced to come to grips with what had happened. On the other hand their first trip to Ocho Rios had been anything but traumatic. Ocho Rios was where he had gotten Parris pregnant.

After Joshua revealed Parris had had a child—his child, he sat at his desk, trying to remember when it had happened, when had he gotten her pregnant.

Replaying every day, each time they had made love he finally recalled the night he had asked Parris to marry him. She had turned down his proposal, enraging him. The slender thread between rage and passion merged and he took her quickly, without protecting her, and buried his flesh so deeply in her wet, hot, tight body that he thought he was going to faint.

His heated blood scalded his skin as it raced in his veins like molten lava while his heart nearly exploded when he exploded in her body, his release stronger and longer than any he had ever experienced in his life. He hadn’t wanted to admit it but he knew the moment a new life had begun in her body.

Pushing his hands into the large pockets of a pair of white cotton loose-fitting pants with a drawstring waist, Martin refused to think beyond the moment. He had less than six weeks to announce his candidacy. The day would coincide with his fortieth birthday; and when he made the announcement he wanted Parris standing by his side as his wife.

* * *

Parris sat beside Martin, their backs supported by the sturdy trunk of a palm tree. A cooling breeze ruffled the massive fronds bowing gracefully above their heads. She stared at the broken pieces of a coconut, feeling Martin’s fiery black gaze on her face.

“How long have you known Joshua?”

Her question seemed to startle Martin, and he shifted his eyebrows. “Almost eighteen years.”

“How old is he?”

“Thirty-four. Why?”

Turning her head slowly, she stared back at Martin. “He looks young, but there’s something about him which says he’s so much older. Are you close friends?”

“Very close,” Martin replied softly.

“Is he always so serious?” she continued with her questioning, remembering Joshua’s expressionless face.

“Yes.” Martin crossed his arms over his broad chest and closed his eyes.

There was only the sound of the rolling waves and an occasional gull screeching wildly as it competed with another gull for a morsel of sea life left on the beach.

Parris, placing a hand on Martin’s shoulder, shook him gently. “Why are you so mysterious about Joshua?” she asked as he opened his eyes.

Martin unfolded his arms and reached out, pulling her over to sit between his outstretched legs. He tightened his grip under her breasts as she attempted to break his loose hold on her slender body.

“Joshua is a very private person, Parris. And that means he’ll only reveal what he wants someone to know about him. I respect his right for privacy, and because I do we’ve remained close friends. Relax, Parris, I’m not going to attack you.”

“I know you would never attack me,” she countered confidently. “You’re not Owen.” The moment she mentioned her ex-husband’s name she knew she had made a faux pas.

This time his arm did tighten, halting her breathing momentarily before it relaxed. “I wasn’t talking about that kind of
attack
. Is that why you left me? Did Lawson come after you again?” he asked savagely.

“Don’t ask me about Owen.”

“Did he?”

“I said don’t ask me anything about Owen Lawson,” she warned between clenched teeth.

They sat, Martin holding her until her body relaxed and she pressed her back to his chest. He registered the slight rising and falling of her breasts on his arm and he successfully controlled his rising desire for her.

He delighted in her closeness, her slight weight and the familiar curves of her slender body. Pressing his lips to her hair, one hand was busy searching the dark brown strands, removing the pins securing it at the top of her head.

“Martin…”

“Shush, baby. I just want to see you with your hair down.” He removed the last pin and combed his fingers through the wealth of sweet-smelling strands falling around her shoulders. “I like you with longer hair.”

Parris stopped his hand. “It’s too long. I should’ve cut it months ago.”

“Don’t. Please. Let it grow,” he urged softly.

Turning in his embrace, she stared up at the smoldering fire in his coal-black eyes. “Long hair is for little girls.” Her voice was a seductive whisper.

Martin’s reply was to lower his head until his mouth hovered above hers. He inhaled her moist breath seconds before he captured it as his lips moved sensuously over hers.

The feel of the thick silky hair on his upper lip shocked Parris into an awareness of his blatant masculinity. The delicious touch of his lips moved down the slender column of her throat before returning to reclaim her mouth.

His hands spanned her waist, lifting her effortlessly until she straddled his thighs. His desire rose quickly and there was no way
he could control the hardness pressing up against her hips through the thin cotton fabric of her dress.

Parris melted against his body and her world was filled with Martin Cole. She groaned once as his hands cupped her breasts through her dress, his thumbs sweeping back and forth over her distended nipples.

Pushing gently, his tongue parted her lips. She felt the aching between her thighs, clenching and unclenching them when the familiar throbbing grew stronger and hotter.

Martin knew exactly when they were going over the edge and he pulled back and buried his face in her unbound hair.

A smile curved his mouth, his hands moving up and down on her bared back in a comforting motion. “I’m sorry, baby. I shouldn’t have done that,” he apologized.

What he had wanted to do was take her where they lay, on the sand and in full view of the heavens and the ocean. He wanted Parris more than at any time in his life. He wanted and needed her.

But he had time. Plenty of time to show her that he still loved her. They had a week.

Pulling back, he cradled her face between his palms, examining the features which assailed his passions, illusions and fantasies. Parris Simmons had haunted his dreams for ten years.

He noted the gold undertones in her smooth skin that appeared velvet and poreless.

His thumbs traced the fragile curve of high cheekbones which afforded her an exotic appearance along with the upward slant of her luminous eyes.

The short nose which he found alluring whenever he recalled the number of times he placed a kiss on its rounded tip. And her mouth, full, lush, soft, hot and giving, was swollen and pouty from his passionate kiss.

His gaze moved slowly over her features, never wavering. Her beautiful delicate face, stripped bare of makeup, was exquisite.

Joshua had confirmed what he’d known the moment he saw Parris walk into the private room at the West Palm Beach
restaurant what now seemed so long ago—she was perfect. If possible—too perfect.

“Martin.”

He registered the breathless sound of his name, and their gazes caught and held in a pregnant silence before she spoke again.

“I’m going back to the house. I want to be there when Regina wakes up.”

Martin nodded and helped her to her feet. He held her hand protectively as they retraced their steps back to the house.

Parris hoped Martin didn’t feel the slight tremors still coursing throughout her body. She hadn’t expected him to kiss her and she hadn’t resisted him either because it had been a long time, too long, since she’d felt any hint of real passion; and it was only now that she had begun to recognize her own needs; however, it was her own need for Martin that shocked her.

A smile softened her mouth and she shrugged a shoulder. What did she have to lose? She would enjoy his kisses, and after a week she would return to New York, her apartment and her profession.