CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Chance Driggers Morgan was laid to rest on a Tuesday in the most elaborate of services. Driggers had no family, but his friends were numerous. Quest was proud to consider himself among that group and he spared no expense to arrange for the beloved man to be put to rest in the finest.
“Hey,” he found Mick in her den. No one in the procession had seen her since returning to her home following the funeral.
Mick had the heavy drapes drawn in the room- which was only lit by a single, small lamp. She didn’t turn when Quest called out to her.
He said nothing more, knowing her hurt was deep and would have a long stay. Pulling her back against him, he held her in a slow rocking embrace.
“Excuse me?” A hushed voice broke into the silence sometime later.
Quest and Michaela turned to find a thin, Caucasian man standing just inside the room.
“Drake Bynum,” the man approached the couple slowly. “I was Mr. Morgan’s physician.”
“Physician,” Mick repeated, her expression relaying her surprise.
“I’m sure he never spoke of me, Ms. Sellars,” Dr. Bynum acknowledged. “He spoke of you so often, I feel I’d know you anywhere.”
“Drig,” Mick whispered, moving closer to the doctor as though she expected Driggers to step out from behind the man.
“You were like his own child. He said it all the time,” Dr. Bynum mused. “He knew you’d have questions today.”
“Why?” was all she could muster.
The doctor smiled. “I suppose I was like Mr. Morgan’s surrogate psychologist. He talked to me about the things he could tell no one else.”
“How could he have been so sick?” Mick blurted, her lower lip trembling.
Taking her hands, Dr. Bynum led Mick to a sofa and joined her there. “I was so stunned when those tests came back. I had them redone so often my lab people thought I’d gone mad.”
“What was it?” Mick squeezed the doctor’s hands.
“A form of colon cancer,” the doctor explained. “Mr. Driggers was a man who didn’t believe in seeing a doctor if there was nothing hurting.”
“That was Drig,” Mick agreed softly. “Why did he come to see you then?”
The doctor took a deep breath. “He found blood in the toilet. Deep down, I think he always knew something was wrong, but he was-”
“Stubborn, proud and strong- physically and mentally.” Mick supplied.
“Exactly,” the doctor chuckled a little before the amusement faded and was replaced by something more solemn. “The cancer had done so much damage by the time he...Chemo and other treatments may have eased the pain he’d started to feel near the end, but he said he didn’t want anything to take more life out of him than the cancer already had. He didn’t want you to be suspicious in any way. When you went off to research your book in...Seattle, I believe it was, he could finally put down the strong front.”
Mick could barely see the doctor’s face through her tears. “When I’d call and get the voicemail, I just assumed he was out and about.”
Dr. Bynum patted her forearm.
“Why didn’t he tell me? I could’ve taken care of him until…” her sobs gained volume.
“You’d lost so much in your life- those you loved. He didn’t want to think about you being alone again. In truth, I think he felt guilty about it. I think it’s why he tried to hold on so long.”
“Until the cancer won,” Mick said.
“And I believe even that was a decision he made.”
Mick sniffled and rubbed the back of her hand across her cheek. “He decided?””
Dr. Bynum looked over to Quest, who stood behind Mick where she sat on the sofa. “He knew you were reluctant to tell him about everything going on in Seattle. He had his suspicions though and then he was given confirmation.”
“Contessa,” Mick guessed.
“After meeting Mr. Ramsey, sensing the good in him and the love he had for you, he told me he didn’t worry that you would suffer alone- forever afraid to take a chance on having a real life for yourself. He felt content that you would be fine without him.”
Mick expressed no comment, and after a while the doctor felt he’d left her with enough information to satisfy her questions. Giving her hands a final squeeze, he rose from the sofa and went to speak briefly with Quest. Then, he was gone.
“Michaela?” Quest whispered, when they were alone.
“How could he think I didn’t need him anymore?” she asked, sobs tumbling forth.
“Hey…” Quest drew her near.
Mick accepted the closeness as her tears flowed freely. They soaked the lapel of Quest’s dark suit until they were spent. Mick was so drained she rested her head on his thigh and took solace in his hand stroking her back.
***
After that day, Mick was unable to do much else. She was at first in denial, and then the shock returned. Everyone was very concerned by the quiet detached persona she displayed. County was so worried, she opted to stay with Mick for at least a week. Quest kept his distance, fearing his presence might in some way upset her further.
But when yet another week came and went, everyone’s worries increased. Michaela made no move to pull herself from her disassociated state. County called Quest to intervene in any way he could. He found Mick in Driggers’ room one afternoon. She was staring out the window overlooking the back lawn and barely responded when Quest called to her.
“He loved the view from up here,” she said after long moments of silence.
Quest took a step toward her, his gray eyes also focused past the window.
“He was probably enjoying one of those dance rehearsals,” he said, taking a chance on teasing and his heart soared when she laughed.
“He was all I had,” she told him, pushing her hands into the pockets of her nylon joggers.
Quest bowed his head. “He was, but that’s not true anymore...is it?” he risked a sideways glance toward her.
Slowly, Michaela met his gaze. She started to shake her head as the tears arrived. Quest drew her close, holding her as she wept.
~~~
When Mick opened her eyes, she was lying cuddled close to Quest’s chest. They were on the furry dark carpeting that covered most of the bedroom floor. She yawned and blinked several times to get her bearings. At last, she focused on the glitter before her eyes. Her lips parted when she realized the effect came from a ring.
A smile tugged at her mouth and she shook her head once. “You knew he was the one, didn’t you Drig?” she asked and could have sworn the ring gleamed brighter in response.
“Do I have his permission to ask?”
Mick heard his voice and raised her head to look directly into Quest’s unforgettable gaze. “You do,” she confirmed.
Quest trailed his fingers around the curve of her dark face and cupped her chin. “Will you marry me, Michaela Sellars?”
“I will,” she accepted in a tone of fierce certainty. “I will,” she whispered then, her amber gaze searching his face until their lips met to seal the promise.
***
The incredible view from the balcony of Quaysar’s penthouse apartment had Mick spellbound. Inside, the place was alive with conversation and laughter. Outside, she and Quest were in their own little world there on the spacious, vine-covered balcony.
Sighing her contentment, Mick rested her head back on his chest. The steady beat of his heart made her feel cozy and delighted. Quest smoothed his hands across her arms bared by the thin knotted straps of her multicolored silk dress.
Mick’s lashes fluttered when she felt his hands cupping her breasts. His thumbs were barely grazing the firming nipples. “Quest…” she warned.
“When can we get out of here?” he murmured against her temple.
“For the fifteenth time, we can’t leave.”
“Why? No one’s paying attention to us.”
“This is our engagement party, man. Quay went all out for us,” Mick pointed out.
Quest wasn’t softened. “He’ll get over it,” he toyed with the zipper at the back of the dress. When Mick wiggled, he switched tactics and lowered his hands to the hemline of the curve-hugging frock.
“Quest…”
“What?”
“No,” she brushed at his hands while pulling the hem back into place.
“Damn it,” Quest turned his fiancée around to face him. “At least let me kiss you.”
Laughing, Mick stood on her toes. “That I’ll do,” she decided she’d be safe with a simple kiss.
Of course, a simple kiss was far from what Quest had in mind. His tongue thrust deep and Mick eagerly met the throaty lunges with a fire of her own. Their moans mingled in the night air as desire surged in an almost intolerable wave of need.
Mick curved her fingers around the open collar of Quest’s maple-brown shirt as he hoisted her against his chest. He was preparing to place her on the balcony ledge when knocking rose from somewhere behind them.
“Break it up,” Quay sang, a devilish smile on his gorgeous face.
Quest’s lashes fluttered close as he turned back to Michaela. “I really hate him sometimes.”
Her laughter filled the air.
~~~
Quaysar’s grand apartment seemed awfully small with the number of guests who’d arrived for Quest and Michaela’s party. Of course, everyone came bearing gifts. The largest and most extravagant of all came from Ramsey’s construction and architectural divisions. It was to be the final gift presented that evening.
“We pride ourselves on having the best ideas, which result in the best creations,” said Jason Calloway, Ramsey’s construction chief. “But for our latest residential division, our best idea came from someone who isn’t even on our staff. Ms. Sellars- soon to be Mrs. Ramsey,” Jason rephrased when Quest cleared his throat. “I hope this is more of what you had in mind.”
Several gasps and applause rose when a veil was lifted to reveal a scale model of the next residential endeavor. Construction was set to begin that fall. Mick recognized it as the project site Quest had taken her to when he’d shown her around Seattle.
“The yards are fantastic,” she commended, rousing laughter from everyone in the room.
Shortly, the group dispersed but Mick was still captivated by the model.
“You approve?”
“I approve,” she nodded as Quest’s arms settled about her waist. “This is beautiful. I can’t believe they even took my advice into consideration.”
Quest pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Why?”
Mick flashed him a funny look. “Please, the boss’s girlfriend? Hell, I wasn’t even your girlfriend then.”
“We don’t care who the idea comes from, so long as it’s good.”
“And you,” Mick turned in his arms, “most men don’t even want their women involved in their personal business, let alone professional.”
Quest leaned close and cradled her face in his palms. “Most men don’t have a woman like you.”
Mick squeezed his hands and smiled. “Baggage and all?”
“I like ‘em thick,” he teased, joining in when she laughed. “Now can we get out of here?” he pleaded.
“Let’s go,” she shook her head when her fiance’ clenched his fist in triumph.
***
The following week, Michaela was surveying a familiar sight. Her look of surprise was mixed with suspicion. “What are we doing here?” she queried to her fiance in a sly tone.
Quest shrugged beneath a butter cream suede jacket. “We needed to get away and I had a good reason for wanting to get away to here.”
“Ah…our honeymoon,” Mick sighed, her tone laced with mock sweetness. “But uh, sweetie, I think you’re backward. The honeymoon comes after the wedding.”
“Funny,” Quest fixed her with a warning glance. “Do you remember the last time we were here,” he turned back to the truck’s flatbed.
Michaela’s eyes took on a dreamy look as she reminisced of the time spent at the secluded cabin in upstate Illinois.
Quest shook his head, knowing where her thoughts were centered the moment he saw her face. “You have a one-track mind. I wasn’t talking about the good times.”
The light dimmed in Mick’s eyes. “Quest,” she groaned, bowing her head. “That’s over now, why-”
“Because I want all our times here to be good ones and I’d like us to deal with the bad ones the moment they happen,” he said, hooking the strap of a garment bag across his shoulder. “After what happened here before, it took us a while to get back on track, remember?”
Mick nodded. “I remember,” she pulled the cuffs of her cobalt-blue hoody over her hands.
Quest sent her a wink and then finished collecting their things from the truck’s flatbed.
~~~
Dusk had settled and night was right on its heels by the time Mick and Quest got everything unpacked. That evening, Mick decided to show off her culinary talents. In addition to homemade sweet bread and juicy herb-roasted chicken, she prepared a recipe for a saucy vegetable rice dish. The aromas of the combined dishes filled the house with the most exquisite smells.
“I’m starved!” Quest bellowed for the fifth time since Mick announced dinner was ready.
Michaela was silent while preparing her plate. She placed it upon the intimate round table, and then sat with her arms folded across her chest. Patiently, she waited watching Quest devour his food as though he hadn’t eaten in weeks.
He glanced up once from his plate, doing a double take when he noticed her stale expression. “What?” he queried.
Mick parted her lips, her surprise evident.
Quest shrugged. “What?” he repeated.
“I have been patient. Too patient waiting for you to get to the point of this visit,” she kept her voice soft.
Quest’s sleek brows tugged close above his deep-set eyes. He appeared thoroughly confused. “I thought I had gotten to the point.”
“Quest!” Mick cried.
He laughed then, raising his hands defensively. “Alright,” he set his knife and fork alongside the plate. “There are things we never discussed when we talked about my uncle’s visit here.”
“Oh, we discussed it,” Mick’s expression soured. “I hated every minute of it, but we discussed it.”
“But there was still something left unsaid.”
“Such as?”
“The people who attended that opening mixer are the best of my family. They always arrive several weeks early for the reunion.”
Mick’s eyes narrowed. “So? What’s wrong with that?”
“What I’m trying to tell you is that you haven’t met the worst people. My uncle Marc was just the tip of the iceberg,” his expression grew darker with agitation. “No one can accuse the Ramseys of biting their tongues. We all speak our minds regardless of who it hurts. I can almost guarantee you’ll have a nasty scene with another member of my family be it over your job or some other aspect of your background.” He shook his head and settled back wearily against his chair. “I’ll do my best to protect you from it, but even my best won’t stop it from happening,” he warned.
Michaela watched Quest closely as he spoke. She’d never heard the man ramble before, and it was fascinating. He looked so much like a little boy trying to get out all of an explanation in one breath. Slowly, she left her chair and deposited herself in his lap. Quest was still talking and, aside from bringing his hands up to cup her waist, he barely seemed to register her being there. In one smooth move, Mick cupped his jaw and kissed him.
He silenced instantly, becoming an eager participant in the kiss that ranged from sweet, to bold, to sultry. Mick emitted tiny, soft moans as she thrust her tongue feverishly over and under his. In no time, Quest had situated her so that she was straddling his lap. He arched his neck and tilted his head to capture every nuance and angle of the kiss. The soft, helpless moans he uttered filled Mick with a sense of possessive power. When she broke the kiss, he grunted his disapproval.
“Are you afraid we won’t make it?” she asked against his mouth. “That someone might come between us?”
“It happened before,” Absently, he brushed his thumb against her lush lower lip.
She settled back a bit to study him closely before speaking. “Nothing and no one could ever do that again. I’m never letting you go. I’m just as much your family as they are and if I have to, I’ll fight for you. No matter what.”
Quest closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to hers. The muscle in his jaw performed a wicked dance as he seemed to meditate on what she’d just said. His hands roamed her thighs, left bare by the hem of the sunflower nightshirt she wore. After a while, he started to move his forehead against hers.
“I don’t know what I’ll do if you walk away from me again, Michaela. I don’t think I could handle it.”
“Hey,” she called, leaning down a little to peer into his eyes when he bowed his head. “Sweetie, I’m not goin’ anywhere, there’s nowhere else I want to be. Please, please believe that. Don’t upset yourself with this, not now.”
“Do you know how much I love you?” he massaged the nape of her neck before threading his fingers through her thick curls. “I’ve always wanted what my parents have and I was afraid I’d never find it. Having many women has its benefits. Hollow, worthless benefits that never last.”
Michaela planted herself more snuggly against Quest and cupped his face in her hands. “Baby, we’re not hollow and we will last. As long as we don’t lose sight of what’s in front of us, by focusing too much on the big picture. One day at a time,” she advised, kissing the end of his nose. “One day of love at a time.”
Suddenly, a grin broke on Quest’s dark face. “I thought you were as cynical as I was,” he noted, kissing the corner of her eye.
“I was,” Mick’s lashes fluttered at the breathtaking length of him outlined beneath the loose jeans brushing her bare legs beneath the nightshirt, “but then I met this incredible man…”
“Me?” he guessed.
“Uh-huh,” she giggled, gasping when his tongue thrust past her lips. Her fingers curled beneath the neckline of his white T-shirt when he stood from the table.
“Dinner later. Bed now,” he decided.
***
The Ramseys, known for being reserved and aloof, pulled out all the stops for the gathering easily crowned the event of the year. All of Seattle society turned out for the wedding of Quest Fenton Ramsey and Michaela Dionee Sellars. The bride walked down the aisle preceded by twenty bridesmaids- the dancers of Wiley State University and one very proud maid of honor, Contessa Warren.
After an unforgettable rendition of Anita Baker’s “Angel”, the bride met the groom at the altar where they became husband and wife.
~~~
In spite of his earlier attempts to interfere, Marcus made a point of attending the wedding with his wife, Josephine. Michaela had to beg her husband and brother-in-law not to make a scene in asking the man to leave. She knew the twins would do more than ask. Thankfully, Marc did nothing to cast a foul element over the lovely day.
The same held true for Houston who arrived with Daphne in their usually elegant style of dress. Accompanying them were their daughter, Dena and son, Taurus who quickly had an impressive share of the women all vying for his attention.
All seemed well, but Mick couldn’t help but think of Johnelle Black who declined to attend for obvious reasons. Johnelle would never have the chance to attend her daughter’s wedding. Though it would change nothing, knowing that it was Wake Robinson who had robbed her of such an experience filled Mick with a sense of accomplishment. The only thing that would please her more would be to learn that he was behind bars. If he was guilty, she intended to see to it that he paid.
Later, Quaysar fulfilled one of his duties as best man. He took his new sister-in-law for a twirl around the gleaming hardwood dance floor in the ballroom of Damon and Catrina Ramsey’s splendid country estate.
“You’ve made my brother a very happy man,” Quay glanced across the room at his twin who was being teased by two of their great-uncles. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look so alive,” he smiled down at her, his pitch gaze soft and lingering. “Q’s a lucky man and I can’t think of anyone who’s more deserving.”
Mick frowned a bit and patted his cheek. “You deserve the same, you know?” she smiled when doubt clouded his gorgeous molasses-toned face.
“Too many fish in the sea,” his teasing persona came to life.
“I don’t know,” Mick sighed, shaking her head. “I have a feeling one day soon you’ll be hit by some sort of thunderbolt.”
“Hmph,” Quay replied with an indignant huff.
“So have you talked to your friend, yet?” Mick asked, toying with the salt and pepper bow tie of his tuxedo.
“What friend?” Quay asked.
“That’s right,” Mick breathed, closing her eyes as she recalled they never got around to the particulars of what she’d discovered. “Harriet Forman was the one who remembered seeing the man headed into the suite with Sera that night. She identified him as Wake Robinson.”
Quay’s brows connected into a fierce frown. “Wake? That’s not possible.”
Mick shrugged. “She recognized him from some old news photos I asked her to take a look at. She seems certain that it was him.”
“Jesus,” Quay whispered, thinking there had to be some mistake. He was horrified that it might not be. “What do you think?”
Mick wanted very much to soothe the worries clouding Quay’s face. She couldn’t.
“You think he did it?”
Mick squeezed his hands. “A part of me isn’t ready to believe he’s completely responsible. But I can’t help but remember the way he looked when I said that there was someone who could identify the man going into the hotel room with Sera. He looked like he could’ve dropped through the floor, Quay. He acted as though he was that man. I guess my next question would be, has he left town yet?”
Quay shook his head. “I’ve known him half my life.”
“And that counts for a whole lot, but I’m coming into this with fresh eyes, sweetie. Maybe I see what you won’t allow yourself to,” Mick noted, knowing her words were difficult for him to hear.
Quay cleared his throat, squaring his broad shoulders as he did so. “That still doesn’t mean he did it, Mick.”
“I know, honey.”
“His involvement here could be totally innocent.”
“You’re right, you’re right,” Mick smoothed her palm across his cheek.
“Just promise me you won’t stop until you know for sure that he’s guilty. Until you have no doubts.”
“Come here,” Mick pulled him into a hug.
Quay couldn’t stop the sick feeling that wretched through him then. Various details he’d allowed himself to forget regarding his old friend were slowly forging to the surface of his memory.
“Hey, hey, break it up!” Quest ordered, having just approached his wife and brother. “You’re holdin’ her too close,” he teased.
“Mmm hmm, and I’m about to do more than that,” Quay regained a bit more of his light mood. “As the best man, I get to be the first one to kiss the bride.”
Quest eased both hands into the pockets of his white tuxedo trousers. “Keep it clean. No tongues,” he peered close to see that he was obeyed.
“Hell, he took all the fun out of it,” Quay complained to Mick and then decided to simply bestow a gentlemanly kiss to her hand. “I wish you all the good things. Both of you,” he told his brother and leaned in to kiss Quest’s cheek.
“He alright?” Quest asked, watching as Quay left the ballroom.
Mick smiled. “He’s gonna be,” she promised.
~~~
“So you’re saying your cousin is a magician?”
Taurus Ramsey’s insanely gorgeous face softened with an indulgent grin. “I may’ve used the label once or twice to describe him.”
Michaela laughed over the dig at her husband.
“Seriously though, only my cousin could meet an angel one day and have her eager as a puppy to become his forever the next.” Taurus declared in a tone that brooked no argument.
“Really?” Mick made a show of pretending to gush. “Don’t lie. You really think I’m an angel?” She queried, apparently taking no offence to the ‘eager as a puppy dog’ comparison.
“You’re definitely an angel,” he grinned but a solemn tinge ghosted across his face soon after. “My cousin didn’t need magic to get you-not when he’s such a good guy.” Taurus squeezed Mick’s hand where it curved about his jacket lapel. “He deserved the best and he got it.”
Her eyes glistened with just a hint of moisture. “Thank you,” she stood on her toes to kiss his cheek.
Taurus appreciated the gesture. Evidence of that reflected in his smile momentarily. “Speak of the devil,” he said, his smile playing tug of war with a grimace.
Curious, Mick glanced back to find Quest waiting patiently in the stoic silent manner he’d perfected.
“Thanks for the dance, Mick,” Taurus dutifully released his cousin’s wife, stepped over to clap a hand to Quest’s shoulder. “Congratulations,” he said.
“Thanks, T,” Quest returned and then fixed his wife with a playfully reproachful look once Taurus had moved on. “What’d I say about not dancing with any of the men in my family?”
Michaela countered with an elegant shrug. “Well he’s my family now too, so that order carries no weight.”
“Is that right?” Quest gathered his wife close, bumping her chin with the curve of his fist. “Hasn’t anybody told you that a wife shouldn’t sass her husband?”
She pretended to be dismayed. “Sorry I missed the lesson in Brides One-O-One. Just to make sure I um...stay in my place, I should ask if your decree pertains to Damon,” she referred to Quest’s father. “I mean, he’s technically my dad now, too.”
Quest couldn’t hold out against the smirk that fought for purchase. “I revise the rule to no dancing with the unmarried men in my family.”
“Mmm…” Mick twisted her lips into a pained smile. “That’s tough- I was really looking forward to a dance with your great uncle Gregor.”
Quest dissolved into laughter then. He would always love her. Her persona had been wrought by years of hardship and disappointment yet she’d triumphed. To fill her thoughts with the best in life and memories to treasure was his wish for her. And he was determined to take his wish-fulfilling seriously.
Michaela felt her heart lurch clear to her throat as she studied the striking left dimple imprinted alongside his mouth. This man was truly hers and he would always be. “So is your laughter a sign of approval for Uncle Gregor to take me for a twirl? He claims that I haven’t really danced until I’ve danced with him.”
Quest recovered somewhat from his laugh attack at her reference to his mother’s single 93-year old uncle. “The rule goes double for Uncle Greg.”
~~~
Two hours later, the reception only showed signs of gaining momentum. Mick found herself growing as restless as her husband. She was a bundle of nerves in anticipation of her honeymoon. After a quick stop in Chicago, she and Quest would be spending part of their trip in Hawaii before traveling off to Tahiti for the duration. The couple had decided to stop in Malibu as well. Mick was especially excited about the visit to the teen center. The place was consistently making local and national news. Its headlines accumulated praise for the teens it housed and also presented a challenge to the city and state officials to do more to reach out to its youth.
In spite of her anxiousness, Mick had been doing her best to appear the gracious, sociable bride. Of course this was especially difficult as she tried to thwart her husband’s overtly erotic advances.
“How long before we can leave this thing?” Quest spoke close to her ear as he stood behind her.
“We have couple stuff to do,” she tried to remain focused, “such as cutting this huge cake they’re wheeling toward us.”
“Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had you in a bed?” Quest spanned his hands across Mick’s hips and tummy, neatly encased within the exquisite embroidery lining the classic white gown with its chiffon sleeves and full hoop skirt.
Mick giggled. “I do,” she shivered when she heard a low sound rumble deep in his chest.
“Just something to tide me over until later?” he bartered, his lips fastening to her earlobe.
Mick’s lashes fluttered against the warm sensation stemming from the feel of his nipping and suckling the soft flesh. “Down, Quest,” she gasped when he responded by settling her back against his groin. “All the way down,” she advised.
~~~
Quay had left the reception determined to find answers. He returned feeling worse than before he left. His worst fears were realized when Mick told him what she’d discovered. He knew it was folly, but a part of him prayed Wake would be at his condo when he went to confront him. According to the security desk, he was gone- completely moved out with no warning and no mention of a forwarding address.
“Can’t be,” he chanted, his attention barely on the winding road leading back to the estate. “It couldn’t have been Wake. It couldn’t have been him all those times before-”
A blaring horn interrupted his thoughts. Quay slammed on his brakes just as another SUV moved in direct line with his own mammoth sport utility.
A dark, statuesque beauty bolted from the driver’s side of the white Navigator. “Are you blind? You had to see me going for that park,” she went on, fire in her eyes as she prepared to deliver more choice words for the driver behind the tinted windows of the fierce-looking black Hummer.
Quaysar’s thoughts of Wake Robinson and everything else disappeared at the sight in the line of his gaze. When he stepped outside the truck, the lovely woman’s doe-shaped eyes narrowed in recognition.
“Quaysar Ramsey,” she propped both hands to her hips while tapping a cream pump against the brick driveway. “I see you still can’t drive worth a damn.”
Quay tilted his head just slightly. “You know my name?” he watched as the breeze disarrayed the black tresses that fell past her shoulders.
“I know you,” she closed a small bit of the distance between them. “And I assume from your question that you have no idea who I am.”
“I’d like to,” Quay admitted at once. His words were genuine. His dark eyes raked her in a helpless manner as though he couldn’t get enough of looking at her.
Tykira Lowery rolled her eyes in the direction of the scooped bodice of the elegant rose colored dress she wore. “Still playing Casanova,” she softly accused, her seductive gaze becoming humor-filled. “I shouldn't be surprised. I suppose it is easy to forget a woman you held captive for a week,” she said, her voice softening to almost a whisper. “Park my truck,” she requested, tossing him her keys before she walked off to leave Quay staring after her in total confusion.
***
Michaela tried to appease her husband with a slow, sultry dance on the crowded floor.
“I love you,” he whispered against her mouth.
“I love you,” she whispered back, her fingers smoothing across the silky waves of his hair.
Quest sighed his contentment, before raising his head to scan the room. “This is your family,” he told her.
“Mmm...I love them too,” she murmured, trailing her lips across his jaw.
“That’s just ‘cause they’re all dressed up. Wait’ll the morning.”
Mick looked up at him then. “I love them because they made you the man you are.”
Quest appeared uncertain. “And is that good or bad?”
“It’s very good.”
He smiled down at his wife and almost laughed, he was so happy and excited about the life ahead of them. Mick stood on her toes to press a sweet kiss to his mouth. That kiss turned hot and desirous within seconds.
“I want out of this party,” Quest demanded then, his hands tightening on Mick’s waist.
She bit her lip. “Babe-”
“We already did all the couple stuff,” Quest interrupted before she could argue.
“So how do you propose we make a graceful exit, Mr. Ramsey?” she challenged, her heart somersaulting when he flashed his left-dimpled grin.
“Like this,” he swept her off her feet and into his arms.
Michaela’s laughter rippled out over the well-wishers who cheered and clapped as the newlyweds made their exit amidst a shower of flowers, confetti and the love of their family.
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Lover’s Muse: An Interlude