Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
I nside the cozy guesthouse located at the opposite end of the gazebo, Asha lay curled against Sterling’s side in the large bed where they’d just finished making love.
“Do you think anyone suspects anything?”
Sterling chuckled, a drowsy rumble. “About us? Or about Michael and Reese?”
“About us, of course.” Asha laughed softly. “Darling, everyone who was at the party tonight knows about Michael and Reese, not to mention the millions of viewers who tuned in to watch his show. My God, Sterling. Did you see the way he looked at her?”
“See it? Hell, I felt it.”
Sterling had never seen his son look at any woman the way he’d looked at Reese St. James. And they must have stayed on that empty dance floor for over an hour. If the musicians hadn’t stopped for a break, there was no telling how much longer those two would have danced together, oblivious to everything else.
Sterling wanted Michael to be happy, and Reese, God bless her, seemed to be just what the doctor ordered—no pun intended.
Asha sighed blissfully. “Looks like we’ll be planning another wedding in the garden soon.”
“ We ? ”
“Of course. We both know you can’t be trusted to help plan a wedding. For starters, we already know what you’d include on the reception menu.”
Sterling scowled without rancor. “Michael happens to love barbecue. He’s been grilling since he was ten years old.”
“He’s a world-renowned chef,” Asha said dryly. “He can’t serve pork ribs and beans at his own wedding. And Reese is a doctor?—”
“From Texas, another barbecue-loving state.”
“—who’d expect nothing less than a classy wedding.”
Sterling guffawed. “Classy, hell. Reese is one of the most down-to-earth girls Michael has ever brought home.”
“Are you saying she’s not classy?” Asha challenged.
“Of course not. She’s got more class in her pinky finger than most people I know. But she’s not fussy or pretentious. She’s genuine. I think that’s one of the many qualities my son loves about her.”
“It doesn’t hurt that she’s exquisite. That body.” Asha sighed. “I’m already looking forward to designing her wedding gown.”
Sterling smiled softly. “Watching her and Michael on that dance floor—him in a tux and her dressed in white—it felt like we were already at their wedding.”
“I know.” Something in Asha’s quiet, triumphant voice made Sterling wonder if she’d orchestrated the whole thing. It wouldn’t surprise him. The woman was a damn control freak.
As if to prove his point, she said, “They can honeymoon at my chateau in France.”
Unnerved by the decisive finality in her tone, as if the matter were a foregone conclusion, Sterling muttered, “Michael has a cottage in Italy. I’m sure they’d want to honeymoon there instead.”
“Of course. How romantic.”
Asha’s casual mention of her French chateau was just another reminder of the vastly different worlds she and Sterling inhabited, as illustrated by tonight’s glitzy bash.
Gussied up in a Brioni tux, with a champagne flute held awkwardly in his hand, Sterling had felt out of place as Asha led him around the garden, introducing him to her snooty friends. Between the French and the couture lingo, Sterling had had a hard time following any conversation. He’d finally given up and retreated to the house to hang out with the normal folks from Michael’s television studio .
He didn’t belong in Asha’s world, and he never would.
This thing between them—whatever it was—would fizzle out as soon as she returned to her glamorous, fast-paced life in New York. If being a cop hadn’t been good enough for Celeste, being a retired cop definitely wouldn’t be good enough for the likes of Asha Dubois. Sure, Sterling’s circumstances were much different now than they’d been during his marriage. In addition to his pension, he was well provided for by his sons, who gave him a generous monthly stipend and saw to it that he never wanted for anything. Hell, if he’d been a greedy, materialistic man, Michael and Marcus would’ve had him living larger than a rap star, with flashy vacation homes and luxury cars galore. Those boys loved to spoil their old man, and they made no apologies for it.
But all the money in the world couldn’t buy a woman like Asha.
After finding herself pregnant and divorced by the age of nineteen, she’d become as jaded about romance as Sterling was. Although she’d been romantically linked to several tycoons over the years, she’d made it perfectly clear she had no interest in shackling herself to another man.
Sterling had no illusions about their future.
They had no future.
But that didn’t stop him from wanting her in his bed. They’d been sneaking around for the past week, having the kind of sex that could put a man his age in the hospital. Asha was a sensual, passionate lover who knew how to satisfy a man’s every need. She was also a screamer, which was why they’d relocated their nightly trysts to the guesthouse.
Sterling was so addicted to her that he’d even invited her to accompany him and the family on a relaxing five-day getaway to Sea Island, a luxury golf resort off the coast of Georgia. He’d been thrilled—and shocked—when Asha agreed to go. Now that her boutique was open and the party was over, there was nothing keeping her in Atlanta. He knew she had pressing matters awaiting her in New York. Her phone rang constantly, and she’d frequently been overheard fretting over preparations for her upcoming fall collection. But for whatever reason, she’d decided to extend her stay in Atlanta. And Sterling—to his detriment—couldn’t be happier.
“You never did answer my question.”
Pulled out of his reverie, Sterling gazed down at Asha. “What question was that?”
“Forgot already? ”
He chuckled. “I’m old, remember?”
“Mmm,” she purred, snaking a satiny thigh between his legs. “I beg to differ.”
Sterling’s heart thudded. Another night with this woman and he’d need a damn pacemaker. “Oh, that’s right. You asked me if I think anyone suspects that we’re sleeping together.”
“We haven’t actually done much sleeping,” Asha pointed out.
Sterling gulped. “I don’t think my boys suspect anything, or they would’ve called me out already.” He thought fleetingly of Celeste, who’d been even more hostile to Asha than usual, for reasons unknown. “What about Samara? Has she said anything to you?”
Asha smiled against his chest. “I’ve caught her giving me strange looks every now and then. And I think she was a little suspicious when I told her I’d decided to stay here instead of her house. But I just explained that it made more sense for me to be here to meet with the caterers and to finalize preparations for the party. And since we’re all leaving for the coast tomorrow, I don’t have to worry about coming up with another excuse for why I’m still sleeping at your house.”
Sterling grinned. “Sounds like you’ve thought of everything.”
“Um-hmm.” Her thigh slid higher. “Wanna hear what I’m thinking now?”
“Why don’t you just show me?” Sterling suggested, rolling her onto her back.
She laughed, her arms slipping around his neck. As he lowered his head to kiss her, she interjected, “Oh, but wait. Aren’t you the one who just said you’re old?”
He flashed a rakish smile. “I’m old, honey. Not dead.”