All I Want Is You (Kimani Romance) (13 page)

M
onica went into the kitchen and found JD considering the zucchini bread.

“Do you want me to cut you a slice?”

He didn’t look up. “Maybe later.”

She walked up to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her cheek against his back. “So what’s the special occasion? Is there a holiday I’ve forgotten about?”

He turned to her, his voice low and his gaze steady. “No. I just wanted to see you.”

Monica loosened a button on her blouse. “And how much of me do you want to see?”

“As much as I can.” He slid his hand up her blouse and unlatched her bra.

She pulled away. “Careful, your brother is still here.”

He drew her close. “I’ll tell him to leave.”

“You can’t.”

He paused. “Why not?”

“He’s staying for lunch.”

“What?”

“I asked him to stay for lunch.”

“You mean if I hadn’t come you would have had lunch with him?”

Monica raised her voice in mock horror. “Yes, imagine the scandal.”

JD turned to the counter. “I think I’ll take a slice of that bread.”

Donnie came into the kitchen. “Well, I’d better go.”

JD opened a drawer and grabbed a knife. “Yes, see you later.”

“You’ll go after lunch,” Monica corrected, gathering the dishes.

Donnie cast JD a nervous look. “I don’t—”

“I insist.” She handed him the plates and utensils. “Go set up the table.”

He hesitated then left.

JD watched him go then glared at her. “Why are you doing this?”

“To show you there’s no reason to be jealous.”

He gripped the knife in his hands. “What makes you think I’m jealous?”

Monica gently took the knife from him. “I have no idea,” she said with a note of sarcasm. She placed the knife back in the drawer. “You can have the bread after lunch.”

“But I want it now.” He opened the drawer.

She slammed it shut. “You’ll have to wait.”

They faced each other in a battle of wills. “Don’t push me, Monica.”

She cupped his face in her hand and made her voice firm. “And don’t insult me, JD.”

“I’m not—”

“This is how it’s going to work. You’re going to eat lunch with your brother and me like a grown man, and you’ll be civil or else.”

He began to grin, amused by her threat. “Or else what?”

“You can go home right now.”

His grin disappeared. “This isn’t supposed to be about anyone but us.”

“I know, and it will be once I get your brother to fully trust me. I can’t afford to have him or your mother asking questions about me.”

“If you were in danger, would you let me know?”

Monica thought for a moment then nodded. “If I thought you could help me, yes.”

“I can do a lot of things. In case you’ve forgotten, I’m a rich and powerful man with a few enemies. I don’t mind having one more.”

But Monica knew Anton wasn’t a normal adversary. JD dealt in the world of business. There was corruption and greed, revenge and betrayal. But she was certain he’d never had to deal with a killer before. She didn’t want him to think about what she was hiding from him, so she lightly kissed him on the mouth and whispered against his lips. “Are you staying for lunch?”

He raised his brows, and she could tell he wanted to resume their conversation, but he let his shoulders fall. “Fine. I’ll stay. But I want my zucchini bread. Now.”

She took out the knife, cut him a large slice and slipped it on a plate. “There.”

“Thank you.”

Monica picked up a container of potato salad from out of the fridge. “Now let’s eat.”

Lunch started out as a disaster. JD refused to talk, and every topic Monica tried with Donnie fell flat. After nearly a half hour, Monica kicked JD under the table, eager to get his cooperation. He ignored her, so she kicked him again—harder. He set his fork down and rested his arms on the table. “Hey, Donnie, ever heard about the guy from Manassas?”

Donnie looked at him, curious. “No.”

“Well, there once was a guy from Manassas,” he said then commenced to tell him a limerick so dirty that both Donnie and Monica were left speechless then Donnie burst into laughter. Monica soon followed suit.

“You sick bastard,” Donnie said in good humor.

JD held up his hands. “I didn’t make it up.”

“Tell me another one.”

He told them five more until they had tears running down their faces. They finished lunch in the dining room and ended up in the family room, where Donnie showed JD where their grandfather had hidden the liquor and JD showed Donnie where he’d kept his stash of cigars. Monica and Baxter watched as the two brothers reminisced about their past.

“Remember when Dad taught us how to fish?” Donnie asked.

JD nodded. “And you were upset because you hadn’t caught anything, so Dad gave you his fish and let Mom and Gran think that you’d caught it.”

“Mom made me a big ice-cream sundae. I didn’t stop grinning for days.”

“Dad always did stuff like that. Remember how he used to leave us letters under the door that he wrote as Santa Claus?”

Donnie sat up. “They
were
from Santa Claus. I don’t know what you got, but mine were real.”

JD shook his head with a smile. “So gullible. No wonder you get into trouble, little brother.”

Donnie laughed then held up his hand. “Wait. There was a song he liked to play.” He bit his lip and furrowed his brow trying to recall it. “I can’t remember its name.”

“I think I know the one.” JD took out the guitar left in the closet and began to play a classic Southern lullaby.

Donnie let out a long sigh. “Yes, that’s it. I hadn’t heard that in years.”

JD started to put the guitar back in its case then stopped. He took a deep breath then walked over to the guitar stand and rested it there. They sat in silence, letting the good memories of their father and Gran fill the quiet.

Donnie stood. “It’s time I headed home.” He walked to the front door then turned to his brother. “Don’t be a stranger.”

“Right.”

“You can’t leave empty-handed,” Monica said and disappeared into the kitchen. She came back with several slices of zucchini bread wrapped in foil.

“Thank you,” he said then hugged her.

“It’s just bread.”

“That’s not for the bread.”

“What’s it for?”

“It’s for giving me something back I didn’t even
know I’d lost,” he said. Then he quickly kissed her on the mouth. “That’s for the bread.”

JD took a step forward and rested a possessive hand on Monica’s shoulder. “Do that again and I will kill you.”

Donnie grinned then jogged to his car. Within minutes he was gone. JD and Monica spent the rest of their unexpected holiday in bed, and they did the same after seeing the fireworks on the Fourth of July.

Before he arrived, Monica wanted to make it her own independence day as well. She wasn’t the same Monica she’d once been. She’d been careful in how she improved her appearance over the past several months, still not wanting to reveal who she was, but she had emerged a different woman.

Although JD hadn’t said anything, he had bought her silk scarves, brilliantly colored cashmere sweaters, flowing Indian-made skirts and African batik dresses to add color to her wardrobe. At times she wanted to shed her disguise and show him who she really was, but she did not give in to the temptation. She had to preserve her image. It was too dangerous otherwise. But tonight she had dressed in a loose peach dress and made one concession that symbolized freedom. She took off her head wrap and let her hair fall free. Not in its signature Venus style—pressed bone straight—but in its natural state with its slight wave pattern that made it look a little wild.

When JD came through the door and saw her, he stopped. “I’m sorry, Miss. I thought a Ms. Dulane lived here.” He took a step back to leave. “I obviously have the wrong address.”

Monica laughed and grabbed his hand. She pulled him inside. “Do you like it?”

He lifted her hair up and let her midnight tresses cascade through his fingers. “You should never wrap your hair ever again. You’re beautiful.” Not
it’s
beautiful. But
you’re
beautiful. She wondered if he was aware of the slip, but she didn’t care. She was happy to please him. At least this part of her life was real.

“Why have you kept it up so long?”

“Time. It takes a lot of care, and I’m usually too busy to bother. So I just braid it up and put on a wrap.”

“Tonight I’m going to show you off.” JD took Monica to a small, cozy restaurant about ten minutes out of town and then to a private location to see the fireworks. It was a warm summer evening, and when they returned home they made fireworks of their own.

JD held Monica close and looked up into the darkness. “Do you want to know what JD stands for?”

She nodded. “I’ve always been curious.”

“Want to guess?”

“I’d need a hint first.”

“I was named after a stone.”

Monica thought for a moment then cringed. “Oh, no. Not Jasper.”

He nodded. “Yes, my mother named me after a stone and my father named me after a fir tree.”

“The Douglas fir?”

He nodded again. “My full name is Jasper Douglas Rozan.” He held up a finger. “And you’re
never
allowed to call me that.”

Monica laughed. “Not even in the heat of passion?”

“Especially not then.”

“I’ll try to remember.”

“You’d better. I’ll never rise again if you do.”

She slipped her hand down his thigh. “I think I’d manage to persuade you.”

He covered her hand. “Maybe, but I won’t be happy about it.”

Monica fell quiet a moment then licked her lips, unsure of her next question. “Why did you tell me?”

“I just thought my wife should know.”

Monica stiffened. “Your wife?”

He stroked her back in a lazy, sensual motion. “You don’t like the idea?”

Monica shook her head. “It’s not that. It’s just…there are so many things we don’t know about each other.”

“You know more about me than I know about you?”

“Is that a challenge?”

“No, just an observation.”

“If you want this to last, the less you know about me the better.”

“You know we can’t keep this up forever.”

“I didn’t expect it to last forever.”

“I see.”

“JD, marriage is a big step, and I can’t be part of your world—”

“You wouldn’t have to be part of it. I wouldn’t expect you to host parties or go to major events with me. I have other places I want to show you. You could live wherever you want and you’d always be safe with me. I can protect you.”

But who would protect him?

“I know it’s a lot to think about,” JD said when she didn’t reply. “So I’ll let you get used to the idea.”

Monica wasn’t sure she would. He wanted to marry her? Did that mean he loved her? And would he still love her when she revealed the truth that she wasn’t really a scared, dowdy jeweler, but an international symbol of beauty? Would he love Venus, whose fame would eclipse his own? If she told him the truth about why she was hiding, would he think that she was using him? Would he think that had been her agenda all along? His brother had said that he was used to women with hidden agendas. Maybe he’d be jaded enough to think she was one of them.

Even if she dared to hope that he would accept her without her disguise, she knew she would be putting his life in danger. She knew the lengths Anton would go to get what he wanted, and that he’d stop at nothing. Tears filled her eyes. She’d found a man whom she desperately loved but couldn’t have. But tonight she wanted to dream. She wanted to believe that anything was possible.

“Yes, I will marry you.”

JD sat up. “What? Really?”

“Yes. I can’t marry you now, but know that I want to.”

“We can—”

Monica pressed her fingers against his lips. “Don’t make any plans. No one else can know. Just you. This is a secret you cannot share.”

“So that means no engagement ring?”

“No.”

“How about three dozen roses?”

“No.”

“An orchestra?”

Monica laughed and held him tight. “No. I don’t need any of those things. You’re enough for me.”

JD gathered her close, and she relaxed into the cushion of his embrace. “And I’m yours forever.”

His words echoed in her heart and mind, and she tried to fight back the pain of loss, knowing that she would soon have to leave him.

V
enus was here. He’d traced her to the little touristy town in Georgia. It was a far cry from the lavish lifestyle she’d led. He could make a call to Stevens and let him know about his success, but part of him was reluctant to let the chase end. He hadn’t seen sight of her yet, but he knew she was staying at the Rozan farmhouse. He picked up his mobile phone then set it down. There was plenty of time to talk to Stevens. Venus wasn’t going anywhere, and one more day wouldn’t matter.

What he needed now was a drink. His part of the job was over. He’d been hired to locate her—that’s all. It was Stevens’s job to figure out how to take her down. Gerald walked into the local bar, which was crowded with tourists and some locals. He ordered a drink then settled into a position where he could watch the other patrons and the main street. He wanted to find out more about Venus. What did the locals think of her? Did she
have any friends? Who were the people she trusted? Perhaps someone here could fill in some of those details for him.

He looked around to consider his options. It was easy to separate the tourists from the locals—the tourists looked happy. He spotted one fat guy on his third beer sitting with two younger men. One guy looked half-asleep while the other guy with a knife tattoo looked as if he could go many more rounds. No, he wasn’t a candidate. He couldn’t picture Venus talking to him. Gerald shifted his gaze and saw another guy. He was thin and looked as if the world was about to collapse on him. He could sense his desperation from across the room. A fresh-faced woman sat beside him. He knew the type. The strong, I’ll-stay-by-your-side type of woman whom men could depend on. She turned and spoke to the man in a low voice, and both of them kept glancing at the general store across the street.

Was there trouble there? He had to find out because people in trouble always wanted a solution, and that would be his trump card to get the information he wanted. Gerald strolled over to their table and held out his hand. “Hi, folks, I’m Michael Dodds and I’m here to invest in small businesses around town. Could you tell me who owns that store across the street?” He saw the man’s face come to light and knew he’d hit on the right angle.

“I do,” the man said. “I’m William Hostie and this is my wife, Treena Ikes.”

“Mind if I join you?”

William eagerly grabbed another chair and gestured to it. “Please sit down.”

“So you’re thinking of investing, huh?”

“Yes.”

Treena watched him as she took a sip of her drink. “What made you decide on here? Not many people are interested.”

“Wherever there are tourists, I hear the sound of money.”

“Me, too. I have lots of plans for my store that I could tell you about.”

“I’d be happy to hear them. I’ve had a chance to look around. The town has a pretty impressive craft fair.”

“Comes every summer. We have lots of craftsmen around here.”

“I heard that JD Rozan has property close by. Is he looking to invest, too?”

He saw Treena’s eyes narrow with suspicion and knew he had to tread more carefully, but her husband’s face changed, reflecting a completely different emotion—hate. “He doesn’t care about this place.”

“That’s not what I heard.”

“He likes to pretend that this town matters to him because of his grandparents’ land. But he’s not attached to it like the rest of us.”

“That’s funny. I thought he was helping a local woman get established here.”

Treena leaned forward. “Why are you so interested in what JD’s doing? That’s no concern of yours.”

Gerald smiled. “I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes. JD’s got some big contacts along the East Coast, and let’s just say I wouldn’t want to get in his way. I like to know how things are run before I jump.”

“You don’t have to worry about JD,” William said.
“And yes, there’s a woman at the Rozan place, but she’s not one of us.”

“Why not?”

“She keeps to herself. Sort of strange. Isn’t that right, Treena?”

Treena took another sip of her drink and remained silent.

Gerald knew he’d lost her support. Fortunately, he still had her husband, and instinctively he knew he could get whatever he wanted from him, as long as he swung the promise of money in front of him. Gerald pretended to look at his watch. “I have to go, but this has been nice. I’d like to talk to you some more about your business.” He handed William his card, but his wife took it instead. She didn’t trust him, but that was fine. Venus had run out of time.

Monica hesitated when she first heard the knock on her door. She didn’t receive visitors. She looked through the peephole and saw Treena. She opened the door. “I didn’t know vets made house calls for small pets,” she said in a light voice.

Treena didn’t smile. “I didn’t come about Baxter. I have to talk to you.”

Monica stepped back and allowed her to enter. “Sure.”

Treena glanced behind her then stepped in and closed the door. “This is probably none of my business, but I don’t trust him even though William does. You may not be one of us, but you mean more to this community than any stranger does.”

Monica frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m sorry. I know I’m babbling, but I’ve just never been part of something like this before. I might be blowing it out of proportion.”

Monica sighed, trying to be patient. “Blowing what out of proportion?”

“There’s a man who at first was talking about JD, but I caught on that his real interest is you.”

Monica froze. “What does he look like?”

“Medium height, brown-skinned.” She frowned. “Unremarkable really. Nothing about him stood out.”

Monica began to relax. That didn’t sound like Anton, but obviously he’d put someone on her trail.

“What has he been saying?”

“Just asking about your business, and he’s been seducing William with promises of investing in new or struggling businesses. We certainly need the money and at first it sounded all right, but there was something about him I didn’t like. He tried to hint that he knew how JD did business and then started asking about you.” She flexed her fingers. “I don’t know why you’re here, but I just thought you should know. If he’s an ex-husband or something, I can call the cops.”

Monica doubted Drent’s cousin the sheriff would do anything to help her. “Thanks. I know what I need to do.”

“Maybe you should call JD and—”

“No,” Monica said quickly. “I can handle this on my own. Don’t worry. I’ll just need you to do one thing for me.”

“What?” Treena said, frightened.

“Look after Baxter for me. Just for a couple weeks.”

Treena’s fear disappeared. “Okay. Are you sure you don’t want to—”

“I’m sure. What did he say his name was?”

“Michael Dodds, and he’s staying at Aunt Mabel’s Bed and Breakfast. I found out from William’s clerk Donna ’cause her mother owns the place.”

“Thanks.”

“What are you going to do?” she asked as she anxiously watched Monica gather Baxter’s things.

“I’m not sure yet.” Monica gave Treena a bag of Baxter’s favorite toys then attached Baxter’s leash to his collar and handed Treena the lead. “I really appreciate you doing this.”

“I wish I could do more.”

“You’ve done plenty.” Monica gave her a quick hug. “I’ll never forget it.”

The moment Treena left, Monica began to pace. How had they found her here? She’d been so careful not to leave any clues. But that didn’t matter now. She’d made an error somewhere. She had to change her plans and leave sooner than she’d anticipated. She left JD a note telling him how much she loved him and that she had to leave. Then she packed a few things. She had to turn the tables. She could no longer be the hunted. She had to become the huntress.

She had to get Anton’s focus off this small town and the people she cared about. Monica had to disappear and let Venus emerge.

Gerald didn’t dream much. He’d been too disappointed in the past to believe in dreams. But as he lay on his bed in the quaint bed and breakfast, he let his
mind wander to what he would say when he spoke to Venus. He knew he wouldn’t. He never let his targets see him. Otherwise, they would run again. But this target he wished he could talk to. She’d sent him on a merry chase he’d never forget.

“Michael Dodds?”

“Yeah?” he said in a lazy tone. The owner was probably calling him down for lunch or something. He turned toward the door then scrambled out of bed. Venus stood in the doorway. Tall, gorgeous, amazing. A grown man’s wet dream dressed in a form-clinging leopard-print top and black skirt, ending in spiked high heels. Her catlike eyes studied him. If this cat claws, he didn’t care about being mauled to death.

“Are you Michael Dodds?” she said again, her voice a low purr.

Gerald nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He didn’t care how she’d found him or how she’d gotten the key to his room. He didn’t want this moment to end.

“May I come in?”

Did she really have to ask?
He absently gestured to a seat.

She walked into the room. Gerald’s gaze dropped to the seductive sway of her hips and her long, sleek legs. She sat down. He licked his lips when her skirt inched up.

“Anton sent you to find me?”

“Yes,” he managed in a hoarse voice. He cleared his throat and tucked his shirt in his trousers. “It hasn’t been easy to find you.”

She smiled. “I’m glad.”

“Look, um…I hate to see it end this way, but—”

“You’re just doing your job.”

“Right.”

“I want you to give him a message for me.”

“What?”

“Tell him it ends in New York.”