Scandalous Heroes Box Set (25 page)

Affrica walked in silence beside him, and when they got to a mud-splattered older model Jeep, she stopped. “This is me.”

Reeve noticed the military decals on the windshield and couldn’t stop the question that popped out of his mouth. “Whose vehicle is this?” It was a five-speed stick shift.

Affrica looked at him and arched a brow. “That’s not any of your business.”

“Sweetcheeks, it most certainly is.”

“Whatever. I dinna think you’d drunk anything at lunch, but perhaps I was wrong. Can I have my bag please?” She held out one hand.

“Tell me whose Jeep this is.” He leaned in closer.

“Why, looking to trade up from your Enzo?”

“How’d you know what I drove?” He held her gaze and her bag.

“I saw it at Harrier’s, and I know those men. No one has anything to prove there. So I knew it had to be yours.”

“How well do you know them? Especially Maverick.” His words had grown low and cold.

Her lashes lowered, shielding her gaze from his. “Well enough,” she hedged. “Now, I have to go. I’ve already delayed my plans to help out your brother. Can I have my bag?”

Well enough. What the hell did that mean?
“What’ll you give me for it?” he asked.

“It’s my bag. Why would I give you anything for it?”

“Because, sweetcheeks, I’m the one holding it,” he whispered in her ear. The gentle smell of coconuts washed over him again.

“Fine, what do you want?”

What a loaded question.
“One kiss.”

“Not on your life,” she snapped. “I don’t have time for this. I have a bus to catch. Give me my bag.”

“What’s so wrong with me?” he queried as he drew back to see thunderheads forming in her eyes.

“For all I know you have some disease. I’m not about to kiss you to get something that already is mine. I’m not some
sraoilleog
that will do anything you wish just because you have money. Dinna insult me.”

The fury in her voice shocked Reeve. She was seriously offended. But then, so was he. He knew he had no disease.
How do you think she would know that? You haven’t exactly put your best foot forward when it comes to her.
Regardless of the fact he didn’t know what word she had said, he only took it to mean something disrespectful.

“I didn’t mean to insult you,” he said. And he meant it. “I was only teasing.”

“My bag,” she commanded, her hand out between them, no forgiveness on her face.

Placing it in her hand, he leaned in and brushed his lips over hers before she could move away. “I like your fire, Affrica O’Shea. I don’t have any diseases. And I
love
how your lips feel under mine. We’ll have to do that again, just a bit longer and with much more exploration.”

Reeve walked away before he forgot he was at his brother’s business and took Ms. O’Shea up against the side of her vehicle. He was wound so tight it was amazing he didn’t burst out of his slacks.

He never looked back, knowing if he saw her again, he would forget who her brother was and do his damndest to get her in his bed.

Affrica watched him leave. Her body shook with desire. The kiss was nothing more than a simple brush across her lips but she felt it deep within her.

Damn him for being so desirable. He confused the heck out of her. Arrogant, caring, jealous. Who knew what side she would be exposed to?

Willing some movement into her legs, she tossed the bag in the Jeep and drove away. She had to get herself to the bus so she could meet up with Miles then get the Jeep back to Dimitri “Merlin” Melonakos. Miles was stopping in town for a few moments on the bus passing through. He had asked her what she was working on, and she’d told him, knowing full well he wouldn’t be interested in covering it. It wasn’t headlines.

Miles Horne was a reporter who loved to follow her when she went outside the country. People seemed to trust her a bit more in Africa and would normally give her a different look of what was going on than others. So Miles went and reported. Front page was always his goal. However, he supposedly had something for her, and the bus was stopping here so she said she’d meet him.

Still, as she drove to the bus station, her mind was on the handsome Reeve Leighton. Her skin prickled as memory of his light touch washed over her. What would it be like to go to bed with him? She shuddered and rolled her head on her shoulders to try and regain some control. Her pussy grew wet at the thought of spending one night with Reeve.
Damn it! Why couldn’t I be attracted to Godric?

Affrica parked at the station and got out to wait for Miles to show. She watched couples being reunited, families as well. All of it made her smile. This was what she loved taking pictures for. To remember the moment, capture it, preserve it.

“Hey doll,” a man with a deep voice spoke.

“Miles,” she said with a smile. He was a handsome man—in his thirties with black hair, tanned skin, and brown eyes. He didn’t do anything for her in a sexual way, but that never stopped him from always hitting on her.

An issue when they spent long weeks together in a place, but he never seemed to push her. Still, she was wary.

“Okay, so look at this and let me know what you think.”

“What is it?” she asked, looking at the digital card.

“Just watch it. A bunch of us are going, and I would love to have you as my photographer.”

Her curiosity was piqued. Miles didn’t ask for her normally, just assumed she would let him go with her. Not that it was all bad; there were times having a man around were very helpful.

“Okay,” she agreed. “I’ll call or text you.”

Miles glanced at his watch. “I have about ten minutes; wanna go somewhere?”

The deepness of his tone alerted her to what he was talking about. “Why ask questions you know the answer to?” She shook her head at him. “I have to get going. I’ll let you know about this.”

“I’m hoping, one day, you’ll say yes to me.” He stepped closer and pressed her against the vehicle. “Why do you keep turning me down?”

Miles was lean, though not all that tall, but he still towered over her. And she didn’t like him that close. “Back off, Miles,” she snapped. “I’m not interested in that type of relationship with you. You know that. I’ve never said different.”

He retreated, and Affrica watched his eyes; the emotions took a while to calm down. But they did. “Fine. I’ll just have to redouble my efforts.”

“I have to go. I’ll be in touch.” She opened the door of the Jeep and released a sigh of relief as she pulled it shut behind her. Miles was getting more intense.
Maybe I need to tell him I have a boyfriend and see if that keeps him at more of a distance. Then again, he may see it as a challenge. Thankfully, Aidrian taught me how to deal with unwanted advances if it gets to that point.
With a wave, she left the station lot and headed back to her brother’s apartment.

Chapter Three

Reeve frowned at his brother’s words. “What do you mean I can’t see her? Just tell her to wait a bit. I want to talk to her.”

Godric had called to tell him that the photos Affrica had taken had arrived.

“What I’m telling you, Reeve, is she’s not here. The photos were delivered. You can come see them if you want. In fact, she left an envelope just for you, but she isn’t here. So, even if I was inclined to tell her what you said, I can’t.”

“I’ll be right there,” he said, hanging up.

An envelope? Just for him?

Reeve was headed out to Towering Oaks in no time. He barely stayed within the speed limit. Affrica O’Shea occupied most of his thoughts. It had been twelve days since he had seen her at the club and the same number of long restless nights, nights he’d spent alone. A feat that was unusual for him anyway. Reeve hadn’t ever lacked for female companionship.

The temptation to call Lex and find out what she knew about Affrica was almost too much to ignore. But now…Affrica had left something for him, and him alone. He felt near giddy.

Pulling up to valet, he jumped out and was off into the building without a word to the man taking his car. Everyone who worked here knew him anyway.

Without stopping, he strode to Godric’s office, walked through the open door, and froze. Both his brothers were there. Scott sat at the desk as well, sliding through the images on the smooth surface.

“Hello, Reeve,” Scott said without looking up.

“Reeve,” Godric added with a smirk. “I must say, you’re here sooner than I thought you’d be. Must have ignored that pesky little thing called the speed limit.”

Reeve sneered at his brother. “Scott, Godric,” he replied. “Where’s my envelope?”

That brought Scott’s head up, and his blue eyes twinkled with humor as they watched him. One finger pointed to a holder on the desk where a large manila envelope sat.
To Reeve
sat scrawled across the middle.

His heart sped up. He was nervous as he reached for it, palms sweaty, uncaring and nearly unaware of the scrutiny of his brothers.

He opened it and looked inside. There were some photos and a note. Pulling out the sheet of paper, he read:

Reeve:

I have to admit, I didn’t think having you along on the photo shoot was a good idea. But I will admit, I was wrong. If you could be more like the man I see in these pictures, then you would be considered among some of the most handsome men I’ve ever met in my life.

Slán go foil

~Affrica

He smiled as he pulled out the photos that were inside. There were three of them. Each one Reeve didn’t recall her taking, but even he had to admit that there was something about the image she captured.

Reeve looked at his photo and was amazed at how happy he seemed in them. There was a smile on his face that wasn’t normally in photos. More often than not, he had more than a bit of arrogance in his portrayal. But not this time.

He looked content, happy even, and there wasn’t a single bimbo on his arm. He was alone in two of the pictures, and the third was of him and Godric. You could feel the camaraderie between them, something he hadn’t seen in a photo of them in a long time. Of course, there hadn’t been one taken in a while.

“Well?” Scott’s voice asked. “What’d you get?”

“Some photos,” he responded, handing them over, opting, however, to put the note in his pocket and not share it.

“And the note?” Godric asked.

“Is none of your damn business,” he snapped.

Scott just laughed and shook his blond head. He fell silent as he glanced over the trio of pictures he took from Reeve. “These are really good, Reeve. She’s made you look human.”

Godric looked at them as well and agreed. “You are almost handsome as well.”

Reeve narrowed his eyes at them and walked to the rest of the proofs. “Shut it, runt.”

This time it was Godric who laughed. It didn’t take long before Scott and Reeve joined in. He had missed this, spending time with his brothers. Reeve fully intended to enjoy it.

By the time he walked into his condo that evening, he had read Affrica’s note another ten times or so. Five minutes after he had gotten home, his doorbell rang. Padding toward the door barefoot, Reeve opened it, still content with the fact Affrica had written him a note.

“Hi, Reeve.” The words were delivered on sultry thread.

His heart skipped a few beats, and his lip began to curl. Marisol. “What do you want?” The last time she had been around him, she had claimed to be carrying his child. He wasn’t about to have a repeat performance.

“I missed you, baby.”

She stepped closer and placed one pale hand on his shirt. Reeve glanced down at it, noting how it seemed to blend into the paleness of his shirt, as opposed to standing out as Affrica’s skin would.

“What do you want, Marisol?” He stepped back so she no longer touched him.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

“No.”

Her eyes narrowed briefly. “You have another woman in there? Are you trying to make me jealous?”

Reeve scoffed. “I didn’t even know you were stopping by so why would I try to make you jealous? Besides, I don’t give a fuck what you think. There is nothing left between us. You tried to get to me for my money, enough said.”

“We were great together. And could be so again. I made a mistake; I got stupid. But you showed me the kind of man I wanted to be with.”

He arched a brow.
Man, she’s pathetic.
“Marisol, the only reason I’m the kind of guy you want is because I have money. I’ve seen what you are truly like, and I want nothing to do with you. Ever again. Don’t bother me anymore.”

Stepping back, he shut the door in her face, not caring if it was rude or not. That there was one woman he wasn’t ever going to touch again. Not willingly anyway.

His dreams that night were full of Affrica O’Shea and the way she moved, smelled, and made him feel. The sparkle in her dark brown eyes.

He was in a good mood the next day as he escorted his mother to a dance and luncheon. No other male in the family could do so, so he went along with her.

“You seem in a pleasant mood today, Charleston,” she said as they moved around the dance floor.

His mother, Wilhelmina, loved to waltz. It was something she did on a weekly basis. Normally, his father escorted her, but he had a meeting today.

Reeve made sure his lip didn’t curl at the use of his name. She was the only one who insisted on calling him that, as opposed to Reeve, which he preferred.

“I’m in a great mood today, Mother.”

“Who’s the lucky woman?”

“No woman, Mother. I’m just in a good mood.” He wasn’t about to tell her about Affrica until he knew he had her himself.

“I saw the photos of you and Godric for his business. They are very well done.”

“Yes, Miss O’Shea did a wonderful job with them.” He chuckled to himself. It was amazing how he automatically went back to being all proper when with his mother. One didn’t call a young woman by her first name.

“What did you think of her?”

The waltz ended, and he escorted his mother to a chair. Reeve was a bit hesitant to answer that; he didn’t want to appear like he was fawning over her.