Chapter 5

 

Zera knew now without any doubt, that she was out of her mind. Her body would certainly agree, as twenty minutes later the hum of unsatisfied arousal still buzzed throughout her every pore.

She walked with quick strides down the street. Dane was right beside her. He’d insisted on walking her back to her car. She hadn’t realized they would do so in complete silence. Was he angry because she’d stopped their little interlude on the yacht? Did he really want to have another affair with her that badly? Settling down with one woman was not in Dane’s future. He’d told her that the night they’d first met the last time he was in Paris. She’d been fine with hearing that because she wasn’t looking to get involved in anything serious either. Truth be told, Zera hadn’t come to Paris for any of the romance included in the city’s reputation.

“Your phone’s ringing.”

“Huh?” Zera asked when Dane’s hand touched her shoulder.

“Your phone,” he said, pointing down at the small purse she was carrying. “It’s ringing.”

“Oh!” Zera reached down and into the purse. She pulled out her phone and hurriedly answered without looking at the screen.

“He’s dead,” the familiar male voice on the other end announced.

“What?” she replied and stopped herself from asking who was dead.

They were still about half a block away from the car park and she knew that telling Dane she could go the rest of the way on her own was pointless.

“Debare’s body was found in a hotel room late last night. We just got word and I thought you should know.”

Zera swallowed and did her best to keep walking when her legs had suddenly turned wobbly. “Yeah. Ah, thanks for letting me know,” she managed. She had more questions but knew she couldn’t go into them right now.

“You can come home now,” he said. “Or at least back to Arlington, I mean.”

“No,” she replied instantly. “I can’t. Not yet.”

“Zera?”

“Look, I’m gonna have to call you back. I’m about to get in my car and drive and you know what a hazard it is to talk on a cell phone while driving. I’ll catch up with you later.”

She disconnected the call before anymore could be said. Words were the last thing she needed right now. Zera needed to think. This was unexpected and it was problematic and she had to figure out what her next steps would be and…

“Is something wrong?”

Her head snapped to the side as she came to an abrupt stop. Dane was still beside her.

“Ah, no. Nothing is wrong.” She lied. “Just an old friend from home.”

Dane stood on the sidewalk with the city’s picture-perfect backdrop behind him. The cobblestone path of the left bank was just below the street where they now walked, so the sounds of the river and the lights from the Pont Neuf were still present.

“That friend told you something that surprised you,” he said. “That friend upset you.”

“No,” she replied shaking her head a little too adamantly. “Nothing like that. I’m good. Just a little tired. Want to hurry and get home.”

His gaze narrowed, but he did not respond. He continued walking. Zera followed. Still holding her phone in one hand she dug into her purse with the other and pulled out her car keys.

“I’m just up on the second level,” she said when they came to the double door entrance of the car park. “You don’t have to go up with me.”

He paused again and looked as if he wanted to say something. Maybe he wanted to ask her more questions. If she were in his position she’d wonder herself what was going on. But Zera was not in Dane’s position. She was still in the spot she’d been in for almost five years now. This was still her priority over any and everything else.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” she said. She desperately wanted to do and say more, but couldn’t. Zera leaned in to place a quick kiss on Dane’s lips before heading into the car park.

He had looked as if he wanted to insist on going to her car with her, but Zera had moved fast not to allow him that choice.

As she walked up the flight of stairs and turned down the numbered aisle where she’d parked her car, Zera half expected to see a white rose on her windshield. That was how Aasir normally reached out to her, as direct contact was dangerous for both of them. But the news of Debare’s murder was big. Hence the reason Aasir had just called her instead. After finding the white rose in her apartment three nights ago, Zera had already traveled to their meeting spot and had spoken to Aasir. Now, it seems the tentative plan they’d put in place during that call would be changed.

There was no rose on her car, but she slipped behind the wheel and closed the door. Dropping her purse on the passenger seat, she reached into the glove compartment and pulled out her Bluetooth. When it was attached to her phone and she’d started the car’s engine, Zera found the number stored in her phone’s memory and dialed it.

“We have a problem,” was the first thing she said when the woman on the other end answered.

“I know,” she replied. “Get to a safe place and we’ll figure out what to do about it.”

 

 

Dane didn’t care what was going on with Zera.

He really didn’t.

He’d resigned himself to the fact that they were still attracted to each other and he was willing to act on that. With eleven days left in his two-week trip, he had other things to do with his time, if sleeping with Zera again wasn’t an option. What he was not going to do was spend any of that time wondering why she looked so damn spooked when she received that call.

It was none of his business. Who she had been speaking to and whatever they’d said to her had nothing to do with Dane. So he should simply let it go. But an hour after leaving her, he was still sitting at the small desk in his hotel room, staring at his laptop screen. He’d googled her and read as much information available online, which wasn’t much. Aside from her name, a Facebook page that she hadn’t visited in three years, and a picture of her when she was seventeen and had been awarded two full scholarships as well as an international grant which Dane had never even heard of before, were all he could find.

She’d attended college in the United States, something else Dane had not known. Tuskegee University was where she’d studied political science, or at least that’s what she’d stated were her plans when she was interviewed after receiving that large endowment. The name of the foundation that had funded the grant seemed vaguely familiar to Dane and for the next hour he found himself deeply entrenched in a rabbit hole studying the Fordhiem Reitz Foundation.

When Dane glanced at the clock to see that it was nearing three in the morning, he shut down the laptop and moved to the bed. He checked his phone which had been connected to the charger on the nightstand and noted no text messages. Dane held the phone for another couple of seconds before opening a new message screen and typing:

can’t stop thinking of you

He stared at those words wondering if he should send the text, or delete it and go to bed. As an unstated rule Dane did not do overly personal or emotional text messages. For him, text messages served a purpose of quick communication of important facts, times, appointment changes, etc. The people he dealt with on a personal level, he either talked to in person or on the phone.

Dane was tired and it was late. He sent the message, switched off the lamp on the nightstand and lay down in the bed. He’d pushed the duvet and sheet back when he’d first entered the room, and now pulled them to cover his body. He closed his eyes even though he knew sleep would not come quickly. This had been the routine for the last three days. This was his time to think about Zera without the guilt of needing to focus on either his supposed relaxation or the business endeavor.

Tonight he’d touched her skin, felt the curve of her ass and just a brief hint of the heat burning between her legs. She’d straddled him and memories of her riding him until his release had almost paralyzed him were vivid in his mind. His dick hardened at the thoughts, but Dane’s breathing remained normal. He could think about her, be aroused by her, and not lose his control. For Dane, control was so much more than a virtue. It was a life-line. Throughout all that had happened to him in these past couple of years, he hadn’t lost control. He hadn’t lashed out at any of the Donovan cousins that had looked at him with disdain, or the ones who had insulted his mother. He hadn’t even pulled the trigger to end his mother’s life when he knew that was what needed to happen to keep more people safe.

What he did do was lick his lips as he recalled his tongue tracing a path down Zera’s neck and dancing over her covered nipple. He wanted to taste her skin-to-skin. Every inch of her, one more time. He wanted to… His phone chimed.

likewise. but there is no point.

After reaching over for the phone and reading her message, Dane fell back against his pillow.

pleasure is a valid point

indeed it is, was her response.

And just like that Dane wished he could see her again.

send me a picture to go with my thoughts

This was way beyond Dane keeping personal out of his text messages. It was, in fact, something he’d never imagined himself doing. Hadn’t there been a slew of celebrities and politicians whose phones had been hacked and personal pictures plastered all over the Internet? This message, and whatever response she might send, was not smart. Still, he waited with bated breath for her response.

There was a long pause and for a minute he’d thought she wouldn’t send it. No, he’d actually thought he was a fool for requesting it. An immature fool who was letting his hormones get the best of him.

But then her response came in the form of a picture.

He felt like a kid on Christmas morning, his thumb actually shaking as he pressed the button to open the picture.

your hands felt like heaven last night

And she was heaven-sent. If there were hot as sin African women lying naked in a bed in heaven. Her face wasn’t in the photo and it really only showed her leg, all the way up to her hip, gloriously bare. But apparently that was enough for his attention-starved libido.

The hard-on which had been slowly growing before this exchange, began to now throb painfully. He could end this ridiculously self-imposed torture. Stop texting her and attempt to go to sleep with a hard dick and his relief probably miles away. He could force himself to stop thinking about Zera and to not let her invade his life the way she had the first time. He could do it. He’d walked away and left her in his past before. There was no reason why he couldn’t do it again. Except that this physical need for her was too potent to ignore and because what he wanted more than the control he was famous for, was the pleasure he knew would only come from her.

I want to touch you again. all of you.

Once more she took a while to respond.

I’ve missed you.

He ached for her.

I can be there in minutes. give me your address.

no.

That response had come immediately and Dane frowned. What the hell was going on with her?

is there someone else?

His fingers had moved stiffly as he’d typed that question.

no

Another quick reply.

then why?

Dane waited for her response but it never came and when he woke the next morning it was with a curse on his lips. Not only did he still have an amazingly irritating erection, but now his phone battery was also dead.

 

 

At close to six o’clock in the evening, Zera sat on a bench in the garden of Musée Zadkine. With one leg crossed over the other, her gray Eddie Bauer backpack close to her right hip, and the barely used iPad on her lap, she waited for the incoming Skype call.

It was so peaceful here, cuddled between immaculately manicured lawns and shrubbery, and the stark distinct flare of sculptures by the Russian born, Ossip Zadkine. Zadkine had once lived in the house behind where Zera now sat. He’d also worked there and upon his death the place was turned into a museum. One of the many in the 6^th Arrondissement that Zera had frequented since Emmet’s death.

When she awakened yesterday morning, it was to a persistent knocking on her door by Ines, an up and coming model who lived on the lower level of Zera’s apartment building.

“You get deliveries from suitors early in the morning. I am jealous.”

Ines was just an inch or so shorter than Zera. French-born, with long brown hair and expression-filled brown eyes, Ines was a European beauty that was about to take over the fashion industry.

Zera had taken the long-stemmed white rose from Ines, running her fingers over the dethorned stem as she thought about what it meant.

“Not at all,” Zera had replied. “I am still as single as you are.”

“But someone is interested,” Ines replied as she turned to leave. “That is more than I have right now.”

Ines had begun singing as she traveled down the hall and then the stairs. It was a Cardi B song that Zera detested, so she yelled “thanks” and quickly closed her door.

With the message received, Zera was now in the secluded spot of her choice, awaiting Aasir’s Skype call which always came at 6pm the evening following the day she received the rose. Aasir only used disposable cell phones whenever he called her directly. And when they met via Skype, which she was hoping to do now, she used an iPad that was registered to Ines’s grandmother.

Zera tapped her fingers on the screen of the iPad. Her cell phone was in her pocket and she’d turned up the volume on the ringtone, just in case. It was very quiet here at this time of evening, so she didn’t have to worry about not hearing the call. Especially if no call came through.

With a heavy sigh she closed her eyes and tried once again to remain calm. The past couple of nights she’d been restless and not just because of the news of Debare’s death—although that was going to change the course of so many things on the horizon. Dane’s text messages had aroused and confused her. How was she supposed to do this again? She could not resist him. She’d tried really hard last night and to an extent she supposed she’d won, but Zera knew that would be short-lived.

There was no doubt that she wanted him, and he apparently wanted her. But what would happen after they satisfied that need? Where would that lead them? To more lies, Zera thought. She’d always be lying to him, just as she had before. There was no other option, and Zera hated that fact. She hated that to do what she knew she was meant to do, she had to give up what a part of her recognized as something very special.

Her cell phone rang loud enough to wake the dead and Zera jumped before pulling it out of her pocket to answer. She checked the screen and saw with immediate disappointment that it was not Aasir.

“Hi Ines,” she answered.

The willowy thin woman with the husky voice, answered in her deep French-accented voice.

“Hello, Zera. Where are you?” she asked.

“I’m running some errands,” was Zera’s quick response.

“We were going to have dinner. Did you forget?”

Zera had forgotten.

“Sorry, I meant to call you to cancel. Have to get some things done,” Zera told her.

“That is okay. Also, I told the guy that stopped by looking for you that you would possibly be back in an hour. Guess that will be a bit longer now. He said he would not mind the wait.”

Zera froze at Ines’s words.

“What guy?”

“He was here just a few moments ago. That is why I thought to call you to remind you about dinner and tell you that he was here.”

The iPad almost slipped from Zera’s lap as she uncrossed her legs and sat up straighter on the bench.

“Who was it? Did he leave a name or contact information?” she asked.

“No name. Just dark glasses and a frown when I said you were not here. He did smell good,” Ines said.

Zera was much more concerned with who would show up at her apartment looking for her when nobody was supposed to know where she was. She quickly stuffed the iPad into her back pack and closed it.

“If he comes back, ask questions Ines,” Zera instructed.

“Fine. When do you think you will return?”

That was a good question. Zera didn’t plan to return. Not now.

“I will call you back. Remember, ask questions if he returns.”

“Should I send you a text message?”

“No!” Zera replied and then sighed as she realized she’d practically yelled at Ines. “I mean, no that won’t be necessary. I will call you back but it may be from a different number, so just answer all calls tonight.”

“Are you kidding? I always answer all calls. Never know when the one that will have me on a jet heading to another, better paying photo shoot might come.”

Ines was getting job after job, but she had yet to hit the big runways for the famous Fashion Weeks. Zera knew that they were coming for her even if Ines was a bit impatient.

“Right. Okay. I have to go. Answer your phone,” Zera instructed.

She disconnected the call. She put the iPad in her pack and slipped the strap of the backpack onto her shoulder before she stood. Her steps were halted by a noise. Zera looked around the garden. The sculptures that she’d once looked at with interest, now seemed creepy—their tall elongated forms casting shadows over an area that she hadn’t seen before. She immediately turned and headed back inside through the French doors of the museum. Today she was wearing leggings and an old denim shirt and tank top, tennis shoes and a black baseball cap. Pulling the cap down further on her head, she moved fast, thoughts of getting back to her car foremost in her mind.

Once she was out of the museum and on the sidewalk, Zera tried to blend in with a crowd of people that were coming up behind her, but before she could, she spotted him. He was across the street, leaning against a dark gray car, legs crossed at the ankles, dark sunglasses covering his eyes. Zera didn’t know how she knew it was him, and she didn’t know exactly who he was, but her steps hastened. The car park was farther than she’d liked to consider as she moved through the people on the sidewalk, while looking over her shoulder.

He was no longer leaning on the car.

She cursed and started to run. Her phone was in her hand, all she had to do was make a call and all of this would stop. She would be safe and this would be over, finally. But Hiari would still be missing. Zera kept running. She came to the car park and pushed through the door, taking the stairs two at a time to the level she was on. Zera heard the screech of tires the minute she turned down the aisle where her car was parked. She moved as fast as she could, but the car was coming, headlights blaring through the dim area. Turning quickly she knelt by the passenger side door and used her key to unlock it. The car was turning around. Zera climbed into her car, moving over the console to get into the driver’s seat. With shaking hands she managed to start the ignition and backed out just as the other car had turned and floored the gas. He was going to run right into her. The impact might not kill her but would definitely cause a great deal of damage to her and the car. She turned the steering wheel and stepped on the gas. Her car whirled around and she drove out of the car park with the other car right behind her.

Paris traffic was no playground, but Zera had been mastering it for years now, so she managed to get at least six cars ahead of the dark sedan that was after her now. She weaved in and out of traffic, going against all the rules of the road until she could turn down one street and then another and another. Twenty minutes and what seemed like half her lifetime later, Zera glanced in her rearview mirror and almost sighed with relief when she no longer saw the car.

But she didn’t stop driving and she didn’t dare circle back to return to her apartment. They never worked solo. So whoever had knocked on the door to her apartment building was probably still there waiting for her return. These two, because she knew there were two—the one who had been so casually leaning against the gray car, and the one who had already been waiting for her at the car park—would not stop looking for her either. If they were sent for her, not following through on that order wasn’t an option. Unsuccessful assignments most often lead to painful deaths.

Zera knew that rule all too well.

She drove fast, her heart thumping as she tried to think of what her next step would be. She couldn’t call anyone, couldn’t go back. Not now. So instead, she went forward, to the only place she’d ever been able to find comfort.