Chapter 17
Three days later, Ann didn’t feel so generous. She wasn’t living in the moment. Or maybe she was and that would explain the reason why she had agreed to fly over six hundred miles with Tazim, and yes, he did have his own private plane…a big one! What was she doing? This wasn’t living in the moment. This was thrusting herself into a painful, humiliating, multi-hours long torment!
“I won’t fit in,” Ann griped, pulling the silk shawl closer around her bare shoulders. The nurse had been correct and her wound was healing quickly. It still ached, but she didn’t need the pain medicine any longer. And joy of joys, she could finally put on a bra!
But she’d turn all of that in to be back with Archer in her tiny house, reading him stories and avoiding this dinner.
“Yes you will,” Tazim replied evenly, even though he’d said those words probably five times already. Ever since he’d asked her to accompany him to a “business dinner”, she’d insisted she wasn’t the kind of woman who sat at the table for these fancy evenings. Ann knew that she was the type of person who served the people sitting at the tables.
“I don’t look right,” Ann sighed, smoothing a hand over the silk cocktail dress that had miraculously appeared in her closet that morning.
“You look beautiful,” Tazim countered. And his eyes moved over her, lingering at the delicate flesh revealed by the low neckline of the ocean blue silk. “Extraordinary, actually.”
Ann glared at him, ignoring the soft chuckle when her cheeks burned as she fingered the small bit of a skin-colored bandage poking out from the edge of her dress. “You’re lying,” she grumbled, fidgeting with the shawl, pulling it closer to conceal the bandage.
“I love it when you blush like that,” he told her, taking her hand and pressing her fingers between his warm palms.
“I don’t blush,” she lied and tried to hide the gasp of pleasure at his touch. “I don’t believe that’s even possible. Not after what I went through to give birth to Archer.” Wasn’t she supposed to avoid his touch? Hadn’t she lectured herself about the dangers of getting too close to Tazim?
And yet, Ann didn’t pull her hand away. Instead, she savored this brief moment. She sighed at his touch, wishing that she could move closer, press herself against his side.
He squeezed her fingers. “If you’d told me that you were pregnant, I would have been there with you.”
Ann stared up into his dark eyes, remembering her terror at giving birth all by herself. She wanted to tell him that she’d screamed his name during the worst of the contractions. That she’d dialed his number about a hundred times during her pregnancy, wanting him to know that they were going to have a baby. But that note…that note had hurt too much. The memory of those words warned her that Tazim hadn’t been as emotionally involved as she’d been during their time together so many years ago.
Slipping her fingers from his hand, she folded them primly on her lap and looked out the window of the posh limousine, remembering the hurt. “I didn’t want to be shared by your friends, Tazim,” she said quietly as the driver came to a smooth stop right at the end of a brick pathway. A man she’d seen at the club stepped out through the heavy wood door, a smile of greeting on his all-American features. She immediately recognized him as the governor of Kentucky, Gary Liptiz. Ann had pulled up several articles about the man, reading about his official accomplishments during his years as a governor. After only two and a half years in the office, the guy hadn’t really done much, she thought. But what did she know? Maybe there were legislative obstacles to his political agenda.
The governor’s mansion was lit up with lights tonight and Ann knew what she had to do. Before Tazim could offer her instruction, Ann carefully stepped out of the limousine and took Governor Liptiz’s offered hand. “Good evening, sir. I am deeply honored to be included in your invitation to dinner tonight.”
“Ms. Fuller!” the shorter man exclaimed. “I heard about your horrible experience several days ago,” Gary said, covering their clasped hands with his second one. “I’m delighted that you are feeling well enough to dine with us!”
Ann felt Tazim’s hand tighten on the small of her back and looked up at him. “Gary,” Tazim growled, shaking the man’s hand.
“Your Highness!” Gary called out, shaking Tazim’s hand as if they were old friends. “Come on in. My sister has joined us tonight as well.” Gary leaned closer, acting as if he and Tazim were great friends. “I couldn’t keep her away when I mentioned that you were coming for dinner.”
“How is Cindy?” Tazim asked, his features expressionless.
Gary patted Tazim’s upper arm, chuckling as if they shared a private joke. “Fabulous. Come on in and I’ll reintroduce you.”
Ann would have shrunk into the shadows at that point. Gary was obviously eager to speak with Tazim privately tonight and she was just arm candy. Good grief, Ann thought, watching as the governor introduced Tazim to his sister, completely ignoring Ann’s presence. He didn’t bother to introduce the reporter, even though Ann had already met the woman about a week ago. The self-important governor really was a pig. She was glad that he wasn’t leading her state. The man was an elitist jerk!
Adding to her irritation, Gary the Creepy Governor was trying to set up a date between Tazim and Cindy!
Ann watched the introductions closely. Cindy Liptiz was probably a beautiful woman, but she wore so much makeup, she looked like a doll. She was in her early thirties with a figure that only a very talented cosmetic surgeon could create.
Ann felt a tingle of self-consciousness when Cindy glanced at her. She’d noticed the reporter’s brief glance at Ann’s cleavage and tried not to shrink away from the judgmental expression. Ann’s breasts had gone through pregnancy and a brutal year of nursing her son. They weren’t nearly as perky as they’d been five years ago. But they weren’t horrible! There was no need for the other woman to preen!
And good grief, the woman’s dress was fighting to keep her impressive chest contained! Where did that reporter find her dresses? What designer actually cut a neckline that low, other than one who specializes in outfits for hookers?
Turning away from the trio, since they were ignoring her, she looked around at the governor’s mansion. It was lovely, if a bit overdone, in her opinion. There was a lot of leather and faux gold. The architecture of the house was lovely; the exterior style was simple and elegant with classic architecture. But the bachelor governor seemed to have more ornate tastes in furniture and décor.
She glanced at the reporter who had tried to speak with her several days ago, noticing that the bandage was gone from her upper arm. There was a vague, red scratch along her shoulder . The mark looked like someone had scratched her with a fingernail! Surely that tiny mark hadn’t required the huge bandage the reporter had been sporting for the cameras! Good grief, the woman was a complete phony!
Which shouldn’t surprise Ann. Cindy Liptiz seemed to exaggerate most of the stories she reported. If someone’s purse had been stolen from a car, Cindy would talk about how the woman’s life had been stolen, then spout overblown crime statistics. If someone’s house had been broken into, Cindy would talk to the neighbors and get them to say that the police were somehow involved because it took them two minutes to arrive on scene instead of arriving immediately like they do in the movies.
“Ms. Fuller!” Gary exclaimed with a fake chuckle. “We’re excluding you! So sorry! But Tazim and I are old friends,” he laughed again, extending his arm to touch Ann’s shoulder.
Ann made a mental note to scrub that spot later. It was her wounded arm and she’d abandoned the ugly sling that the hospital had given her. She felt significantly better after just a few days of healing. Yes, she should still have the sling on to keep her arm still, but the material itched and she was sick of being an invalid. Her arm moved, her hand worked, and she didn’t feel the need for the sling any longer.
“I’ve known Tazim since our college days back when,” the governor continued, then glanced at his sister, “Cindy and Tazim dated for a bit.”
Cindy winked at Tazim even as he pulled Ann against his side.
“We sure did,” Cindy replied with a wide grin. “Maybe we could try again!”
Ann stiffened, but Tazim’s arm around her waist tightened, silently telling her not to be offended. Ann struggled, wanting to get closer, but also to glare at the woman who was flirting! How rude. But then Tazim’s thumb moved against her side and she nearly gasped out loud. The small, hidden movement set her body on fire. Just a small, subtle touch, and Ann was ready to push Tazim against a wall and demand that he…do what? Service her?
She nearly snorted at the thought.
Although, she remembered Tazim doing something similar five years ago. Their roles were reversed and he didn’t demand. Ann had been eager to lift her legs around his waist while Tazim…!
Tazim’s thumb moved again. Had he realized what she was thinking about? Ann looked up at him and saw the heat in his eyes. And a warning! Ann nearly laughed out loud at that look. Shaking her head, she focused on the conversation.
“You mentioned that you wanted to talk to me about something?” Tazim suggested to Gary.
Gary extended his arm towards a private room. “Why don’t we have a drink and we can talk while Cindy gives Ann a tour the house?” he offered.
Ann didn’t want to see the house. She didn’t even want to eat here. She wanted to push Tazim out of the house and back into the limousine where she could straddle his hips and do all sorts of things to his body. She wanted to break his thumb for making her mind spin so crazily!
And she wanted to go home and snuggle with Archer. She wanted to read her adorable son a story and hear him laugh at the voices she made up. If snuggling up against Tazim’s big, strong chest also popped into her mind, she rejected that thought. Maybe after reading Archer stories…? No! No snuggling. No pushing the man against a wall. No raucous bedroom scenes! And she was going to break his thumb if Tazim didn’t stop teasing her like that!
Forcing a polite smile on her lips, an expression that hopefully hid all of the tingling that was happening inside of her, Ann turned towards the overly made up reporter and smiled. “That would be lovely. Would you mind, Cindy?”
“I’d be honored, Ann,” the other woman replied. “Let’s start this way,” Cindy suggested and led the way through one of the doors.
Ann followed, relieved to get the woman away from Tazim and herself away from his teasing thumb! Ann knew that she was being overly territorial tonight, but there was something about Cindy that rubbed her the wrong way.
“So,” Cindy whispered, linking her arm through Ann’s.
Ann hissed and pulled away, then smiled apologetically at Cindy. “Sorry,” she said, indicating the bandage on her chest. “I’m still a bit tender.” That was a blatant lie, but Ann didn’t want to pretend at being all buddy-buddy with the woman. Cindy was almost as creepy as her brother.
“Oh, goodness!” Cindy gasped. “I’m so sorry! I just thought that, since you are out and about again that you felt all better.” She ran a hand over her shoulder. “I’m feeling better as well.” She shrugged and gestured towards the hallway, indicating that they should continue walking. “I’ve always healed quickly. It’s probably because I run about six miles a day and lift weights.” She laughed and the sound was like nails down a chalkboard. “It gets the blood flowing, right?”
Ann wouldn’t know about exercising. She walked probably more than six miles a day while waiting tables at the club. But she had a four year old son, so hitting the gym for an hour or two wasn’t an option. Being a single mom meant that she didn’t have the luxury of doing whatever she wanted with her time.
“Yes, I noticed yesterday on your report about shoplifting that you’d removed the bandage.”
Cindy’s smile brightened. “Oh, so you follow my reports? That’s so sweet!”
Ann didn’t bother to mention that she’d merely pulled up Cindy’s online reports in order to prepare for tonight’s dinner. She definitely didn’t “follow” the reporter online or on her social media feeds. Again, Ann didn’t have time for social media.
“So getting back to our conversation before…” she shuddered theatrically, “we were both shot!” Cindy shook her head and rolled her eyes, as if the memory was just an annoyance. Getting shot had been a life altering experience for Ann. Not only had she spent time in the hospital, but her son had discovered his father. Every day, Ann grew more concerned that she was going to lose her son to Tazim!
“Our conversation?”
Cindy glanced at Ann, her eyes sharp. “Yes. Right before we were both wounded, I was asking you if the woman from the barn had given you anything.”
Ann couldn’t remember the conversation, but whatever. “The woman from the barn?”
Cindy quickly hid her annoyance behind a fake smile, but Ann noticed and, for some evil reason, felt good. “Yes, the woman that started this whole Ethan Howell investigation? The woman who came out of the barn.” Her eyes sharpened. “Or that’s what you told the police. Are you saying now that she didn’t come out of the barn?”
Ann didn’t like how hard Cindy’s tone had become. She pulled back slightly, looking at the reporter as if she’d just said something funny. “Am I being interrogated?”
Cindy froze for a moment, then visibly shook off the intensity, forcing herself to relax. “Of course not!” she laughed then looped her arm through Ann’s uninjured side. “We’re just having a girl to girl conversation.” They walked through another room and Cindy explained the history of the artwork. When they were back in the hallway, Cindy continued with the non-interrogation interrogation. “So, did she?”
Ann knew from her research that there were rumors about some sort of video of something that Ethan Howell had recorded. At least, that’s what Emily had said yesterday when she’d come for a visit. So Ann knew exactly what the reporter was asking about but she didn’t want to play Cindy’s game.
Pretending to want a closer look at a particular painting, she pulled her arm away from Cindy’s grip. “Oh, this is lovely!” Ann whispered, then shifted to the side. “I love Natthew Harris Jouett’s paintings. They are so brilliant at capturing a person’s image, don’t you think?” She turned as Cindy tried to do the arm-looping thing again, and moved over to another painting. “Did you know that Natthew Jouett grew up in Kentucky?” She examined the second painting. “Did you know that he also painted Thomas Jefferson?” She looked around. “Are there others by Jouett in the house?”
Cindy looked irritated. “Excuse me?”
Ann noticed the bored expression on Cindy’s face. “Are there other paintings from this artist?”
The woman waved a thin hand in the air. “No, I don’t have time for art. It’s lovely and adds color and texture to the walls, but,” she sighed and looked around, lacing her fingers together in front of her as her shoulders shifted back and forth. “To be honest,” she whispered, “art bores me!”
Ann stared at the woman, stunned. For a long moment, she wasn’t sure what to say. However, Cindy pulled the conversation back to her original question. “What did the woman give you?”
Ann smothered her amusement. Cindy was tenacious! “I don’t think that I’m supposed to talk about an ongoing investigation. Isn’t Mr. Howell in jail awaiting trial?”
“Of course,” she replied and spun around. Ann remembered walking on heels that high during a shift at the club. Years ago, she could have managed a spin with that kind of grace, but these days? Nope. She would have twisted an ankle or fallen flat on her face.
“But you can tell me what’s going on,” Cindy whispered. “Come on. What did the woman tell you? Any juicy tidbits about what Howell did to his victims?”
Ann was very uncomfortable with Cindy’s excitement at the idea of Howell’s crimes. News was finally coming out about Ethan Howell. He was being revealed as a true monster. The man had tortured people, mostly women and children, but men had been beaten as well. Children had been starved, denied an education, and everyone’s money was stolen from them. Cindy was treating the man’s atrocities like his crimes were just gossip.
“I’ve heard that the community’s money is locked up in some sort of legal ambiguity,” Ann commented instead, turning the tables on the reporter. “Will your brother step in and help the victims get their money released so that they can buy food and pay their bills?”
Cindy shrugged dismissively. “I don’t know.” For a moment, Ann thought that the woman wasn’t interested in the topic. But then her eyes lit up. “But that’s a very good question!” Cindy put a hand to Ann’s shoulder.
Immediately, Ann knew that Cindy was trying to figure out how to manipulate the financial aspect of Howell’s crimes to her benefit.
The possibility sickened Ann and she turned away, unable to stomach the reporter’s machinations.
“Ladies!” Gary called out from the opposite end of the hallway. “Oh good, you haven’t gotten too far. Too busy gossiping?” he asked with a patronizing laugh. He even looked up at Tazim, as if assuming he’d agree. Thankfully, Tazim didn’t join in with the man’s sexist laughter.
When the two men caught up with them, Ann gestured to the painting she’d been admiring. “I love these beautiful paintings.”
Gary chuckled carelessly. “This stuff is just for the public. They bring groups through here when I’m out touring the state. But I don’t really care for this stuff.”
Ann’s mouth fell open, then she glanced at the painting. The man didn’t care about art? That seemed odd, and yet somehow, predictable. Neither did his sister.
Sighing, Ann snapped her mouth closed and forced her lips into a bright, fake smile. “Well, not everyone has to love art.”
Cindy snorted. “I doubt that my brother even noticed the paintings .” She shifted, flipping one hip out with a challenging look at her brother. “Did you even know that Matthew Harris Jouett lived in Kentucky?”
Gary’s expression fell slightly, but he maintained his chummy expression. “Should I know who Matthew Jouett is?”
Ann tried to hide her surprise as she glanced at Tazim. She noticed that he seemed taken aback as well. Tazim looked over at the Matthew Jouett painting that was so different from the other landscapes covering the walls. Then he looked back at Ann. She could tell that he was trying not to show any expression and that amused her.
It was interesting to laugh with him again, even if their amusement was silent. Was she relieved? Or nostalgic? They’d laughed and debated each other so much in the past. Then her cheeks blushed when she remembered how they’d resolved their disagreements. In bed. With a lot of sighs and moans to emphasize one person’s “capitulation”.
Ann turned away from the heated look in Tazim’s eyes. They couldn’t go back to those times.
Even if she secretly wanted to.
Cindy wasn’t done berating her brother. “Gary, you’re such an idiot.” She gestured towards an impressionist painting done by Charles Courtney Curran. The scene by this painter was so entirely different from the one on the other side of the hallway created by Matthew Harris Jouett that it took all of Ann’s concentration not to snort with laughter. The reporter was trying to make her brother look stupid, but her efforts had backfired.
Gary looked at the landscape painting and shrugged. “It’s a nice painting. But my tastes run more towards modern art.”
Ann nodded her understanding, trying to be fair. “Modern art was an interesting effort by the artists of that time to overcome the commercial advantages of photography,” she replied.
Both Cindy and Gary stared at her as if she’d just said something ridiculous.
Ann stammered, not sure if she’d just made a serious mistake. “I was just…,” she glanced at Tazim who nodded, agreeing with her so she continued. “Modern art came about as the art world’s response to photography.” She waited, but there was no understanding in either expression. “The art world was worried that photography would make painting obsolete.” She lifted a hand towards one of the lovely paintings. “Why paint something when a photograph could be more accurate?” Still no reaction. “Modern art answered that question, among other issues during that time period.”
Cindy’s laugh sounded brittle as she put her arm around Ann’s shoulders. “She’s confusing modern art with something else,” she explained in a patronizing tone. “Modern art is what is being produced today by the artists of our time.” She looked at Ann as if to imply that a waitress couldn’t be expected to know much about the intricacies of the art world. “Why don’t we eat?”
Tazim reached out and took Ann’s hand, tugging her away from Cindy’s condescending lecture. “Actually, Ann is correct. Modern art first appeared in the eighteen hundreds.” He pulled Ann closer, wrapping his arm around her waist. “I believe you are confusing modern art, which began around the second half of the eighteen hundreds, with contemporary art, which is done in the present day.” He looked down at Gary. “What’s for dinner? I heard that you hired an excellent chef. I’m eager to explore the offerings from someone trained at the Culinary Institute of America compared to my chef, who graduated from Ecole Ducasse.”
Gary still looked confused, but rallied quickly. “He’s a great cook!”
Ann blinked at the man, then smiled weakly and didn’t bother to mention that the governor’s chef was a woman.
The meal was delicious, but the conversation was tedious. Ann sat across from Tazim, trying not to yawn and tried hard to participate.
During a lull in the conversation, Ann asked, “Governor, I imagine it’s a challenge to figure out which roads need to be repaired in such a large state.” She waited, looking first at Gary, then at his sister. Finally, she just smiled her gratitude to the servant who put the salad course in front of her.
Gary swung his glass of scotch through the air. “I don’t bother with details like that. I just dumped the responsibility onto the shoulders of a college buddy of mine who repairs the roads. He owns a big repair shop out of Lexington. I toss all the issues to him and he decides which roads need to be repaired first.” He took a big slug of his scotch, then set his glass down loudly on the table beside his plate. “So far, I haven’t heard any complaints.”
Ann was stumped, not sure how to respond to that blatant admission of cronyism, so she focused on her salad while Gary changed the subject to a business enterprise he and Tazim were working on.
Tazim shifted the conversation back to more general topics that allowed Cindy and Ann to participate, but the governor obviously wanted to convince Tazim to invest in…something. He was pretty vague with his sister and Ann in the room.
By the time dessert was served, Ann was painfully full. She picked at the chocolate and raspberry dessert with the sugar-crystal design on top, but couldn’t do the piece of art justice. Plus, she was distracted by Tazim, who sat across from her, giving her looks that promised…everything. One time, she looked at him to find him staring at her breasts. Instantly, her nipples peaked and she couldn’t do anything to hide that fact. During another interaction, she looked up to find him staring at her mouth as she licked the spoon clean of the chocolate dessert. Instantly, she thought of how he’d used his tongue on her. Many times during their nights together.
Ann was on fire, her dress feeling tighter now than earlier in the evening. And it wasn’t because of the heavy meal. It was because of Tazim’s thumb and his eyes and her breasts and…everything! The night had become one erotic reminder of what they’d shared after another.
Gary suggested that they all go into the living room for brandy, but Tazim noticed the expression on Ann’s face and declined.
“Ann is still healing, which takes a great deal of energy.” He took Ann’s hand and pulled her close again. That thumb instantly rubbed against her waist, perilously close to the underside of her breast. “Another time, perhaps.”
Thankfully, a servant appeared with Ann’s wrap and they shook hands, turned and left the governor’s mansion.
Ann was so relieved to be out of that house, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the car seat as the driver headed back to the airport. “Good grief, that was possibly the most boring evening I’ve ever experienced.”
He chuckled and pulled her hand to his lips. “I thought that you were magnificent.”
She swiveled her head towards him, surprised by his comment. “Magnificent?” she whispered, considering the word as she stared at his mouth. “I don’t think I’ve ever been called magnificent before.”
He growled, caught the way her breathing stopped as he nibbled on the tip of her finger, and lifted her onto his lap. “I’m fascinated by several issues that I thought of over the course of the evening.”
Ann was startled to be on his lap, but shouldn’t be. The memories of five years ago popped into her mind, but none of them were about that damn note. Instead, her mind flooded with images of her sitting on her cheap, worn sofa on his lap. On a park bench. On a thick log after a hike in the woods. Tazim had pulled her close like this often. And every time, he’d touch her, kiss her, and…!
His hand on her back brought her back to the present. “You walked into the house thinking they would consider you uneducated.” His hand stroked her knee. “And it turns out that the brother and sister duo are the most uneducated idiots I’ve ever had the displeasure of dining with.” His hand moved higher on her thigh and he kissed her bare shoulder. “I was impressed by your comments and observations.”
Ann barely heard him. She couldn’t think clearly when he touched her like this. All she could think about was the way his hand made her body burn with pleasure. Everywhere he touched, she wanted more. More of his touch and more of him! Ann told herself to stop him, to ignore these blissful sensations. But it had been so long since she’d felt this kind of magic. Five long, painful years!
“Tazim,” she whispered but she wasn’t sure if the word was to stop him or encourage him. When she laid her hand on his, was her intent to stop his hand from moving higher along her thigh? That didn’t make sense when she parted her legs, encouraging him.
He accepted the invitation, the rough pads of his thumbs stroking her inner thighs. For a moment, his touch tickled and her sanity threatened to return. But before she could seize on that possibility, his fingers moved upward to touch the edge of her panties. The touch was so startling and so….needed…that she didn’t move. Staring into his eyes, Ann held her breath, waiting, praying, that he would continue.
He did! Of course he did! Tazim wasn’t a man to ignore an invitation. She gasped when one of those fingers slid into her heat. Ann moaned, closing her eyes as his finger probed and teased. Ann bit her lip and opened her legs wider, craving more.
“Don’t stop!” she whispered, leaning her head against his forehead.
“Take off your panties,” he ordered, his voice low and gruff.
Ann didn’t hesitate. She needed him! She needed THIS!
Wiggling off his lap, she quickly tugged her panties off. She was about to toss them onto the seat beside them, but he grabbed them and stuffed the bit of cotton into his jacket pocket. Then he helped her back onto his lap, pulling her legs wide so that she straddled his hips.
Ann noticed the ridge of his erection pressing against his slacks and reached for him. But Tazim grabbed her hands. “Not yet,” he warned her. “Later!”
Since his finger was sliding into her again, Ann didn’t have the brain cells to argue. She rolled her hips, needing his finger to…yes! Exactly like that. “More!” she begged, grinding against his hand with growing urgency.
With one finger inside of her, his thumb stroked her nub, moving up and down, then around, then repeating the rhythm. Over and over, his finger stroked her inside while his thumb teased that nub until…!
“Tazim!” she cried out, her hips rocking against his hand. He pulled her close, absorbing her cries into his mouth as her first climax washed over her. When it was over, her lips hovering over his, she laughed as her body slowly came down from that beautiful release.
“I haven’t experienced that since…!” she froze when she realized what she’d been about to admit.
“Since I was with you?” he offered.
Ann groaned weakly, and nodded.
“Good!” he growled, leaning down to nip at her earlobe. “We’re here.”
Ann looked out the window, startled to find that they were at a hotel. “Where are we?”
“I have a suite here. My guards determined that it is safer for Archer.”
“Archer is here?” she whispered, following Tazim out of the limousine. She was painfully aware of the fact that he still had her panties in his pocket.
“He’s here, safely tucked away in bed with a temporary nanny.” He kissed her and she suspected that he was trying to distract her. “I paid the babysitter you hired extremely well.”
“Good. Good.” Ann looked around, but a breeze blew over the hard concrete in that moment. Quickly, she shoved her hand down over her skirt, trying to keep the rest of the world from noticing that she wasn’t wearing panties. “Tazim, I need…um…!”
“Come inside.” He took her hand and led her to the entrance. There were several people still milling about the elegant lobby, but instead of taking her towards the bank of elevators, he brought her to a small hallway. There, he pressed a button and a private elevator immediately opened.
They stepped in and Ann was startled to discover several of his guards stepping in as well. “What’s going on?” she whispered.
Tazim pulled her into his arms and kissed her neck. Normally, Ann would have melted at this treatment. But with these other men in the small space, she couldn’t seem to let go enough to enjoy his attentions.
“They are my bodyguards, love,” he told her. Thankfully, he stopped kissing her, but he didn’t let her step out of his arms. Ann wasn’t sure if that was good or bad so she leaned against him, looking at the other men. The guards had their backs to her and Tazim, but that didn’t ease her tension or awareness of not being alone.
The elevator opened and Ann breathed a sigh of relief. The guards exited first, all of them muttering into invisible microphones in a language she didn’t understand. Then, Tazim led her out of the elevator.
“Why don’t we check on Archer?” he offered.
Ann nodded, looking around at the “room”. However, this wasn’t a hotel room. This was larger than her entire house!
“Where are we?” Ann whispered, looking around. He took her hand and led her through the area. The main living room held two leather sofas facing each other with some sort of art deco coffee table between them. The coffee table was larger than her kitchen table. Hell, it was larger than her grandmother’s dining room table!
“We are in the penthouse of the Oceander Hotel,” he told her, not releasing her hand when she started to slow down. “It’s safer,” he told her. “You and Archer will not be bothered here.”
She looked up at him. “Is danger a possibility?”
“Yes,” he told her, cupping her cheek with his hand. “My guards received information that indicated that one of you, most likely you, were in danger.” He kissed her, the caress one of affection and not passion. “Ann, I know that we have several issues that still need to be resolved between us. But now that I’ve found you again, I won’t take the chance of losing you. Not to anyone.” He kissed her again. “And Archer needs to be protected. He’s my heir. One day, he will rule Androna. He has so much to learn. Will you trust me?”
“Trust you?” Her body was still thrumming from a beautiful release and Tazim wanted to discuss trust?
“Yes.” He moved closer. “Archer is right through there.” He nodded towards a closed door with a guard standing with his back to the wall. “Why don’t we check on him, then we can talk?”
Ann nodded her agreement, mostly because she needed to ground herself by seeing her son. This was…a lot to take in.
The guard opened the door and backed away, whispering something in his microphone. That was a bit unsettling, but Ann ignored the guard and stepped into the darkened room. Sure enough, Archer was snuggled up in bed, his stuffed elephant tucked under one arm. Her tiny son was completely zonked out, his tiny mouth open and his long lashes, so similar to his father’s, resting against his cheeks.
“He’s adorable,” Tazim whispered into her ear.
“He is,” Ann replied, feeling a surge of love for her little man. She turned, looking up at Tazim. There was love in his eyes as well. Tazim stared at Archer with an expression that probably mirrored her own. How could he love this little boy so completely after only learning of his existence a week ago? What was it about genetics that transformed a hard, cynical world leader into a mushy, love-struck man in a matter of hours?
Tazim lifted his gaze and, in the darkness, Ann could see his eyes transform from love for their child to desire. For her!
“Tazim!” she whispered.
Tazim heard the tremor in her voice and reacted to it. She was confused and shaky as he took her hand, leading her out of the room. Quietly, he closed the door, nodded to the guard protecting their son, then took Ann’s hand and led her further down the hallway. At the end, he pushed open a door to a room that was dimly lit, but Ann could see the beauty of the décor. Silver and soft blue were the highlights. The walls were covered in some sort of shimmery wallpaper and the curtains were a silver tissue-like material against white that would block out the morning light for anyone who desired to sleep in past dawn.
But that was all she could take in before Tazim spun her around. His lips were hard and demanding when he kissed her this time. Desire. Passion. Need. She could feel it overwhelming her when he kissed her this time. Gone were all of her questions about the past. The miserable note he’d sent her was there, lurking in the back of her mind. But the awful words couldn’t break through the lust, the need.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pressed herself against him, but it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. She wanted all of him.
Ripping at his dress shirt, she tore at the material. “Help me,” Ann urged.
He pushed her hands away and started working at the buttons himself. So Ann concentrated her efforts on his slacks. She didn’t even bother to push the material down his legs. This was Tazim and it had been five long years since she’d experienced this kind of passion. Any kind of passion. It had always been him. No other man had ever generated this desire in Ann. Which was probably why she’d felt so betrayed by his note.
But none of that mattered at this moment. The only thing that mattered was getting his clothes off.
Unfortunately, Ann couldn’t wait for that momentous achievement. After unzipping his fly and pushing his boxers aside, she was finally able to wrap her fingers around his shaft. Ann heard him hiss warningly, but ignored him. She was holding him in her hands. Well, not all of him, but the part of him that she needed most at this moment.
She had to taste him. The sight of him in her hands made her mouth water. So, she leaned over and took him into her mouth.