Quest’s gray stare was focused toward his laptop, which was perched on the coffee table. “Maybe we should have a dinner party,” he suggested absently, while trying to concentrate on his game of online chess.
Mick shook her head, her own eyes focused on a computer screen. “Haven’t you done enough meddling?” she responded in a voice that held an absent tone similar to her husband’s. Seated behind the massive cherrywood desk in his study, she performed her daily Internet scouring for possible leads in the case.
Quest grimaced at his wife’s mention of the dinner fiasco earlier that week. “Just bad communication,” he excused. “Besides, you should’ve told Quay not to bring a date when you invited him to be there.”
Mick’s lips parted and she looked up. “I told him it was just going to be the three of us. How was I supposed to know he’d bring a date? As far as we know, he hasn’t been out with anyone in two years,” she argued gently, her eyes narrowing mischievously as she focused on the desktop screen. “Anyway, you’re his twin. You should’ve psychically tapped in and realized he was going to do something stupid,” she pointed out in a naughty tone, and was promptly hit in the side of the head by the pillow Quest threw.
“Her crew’s coming in today,” he sighed, folding his arms across the Seahawks jersey that emphasized the striking breadth of his biceps and chest. “It might be a nice touch to throw a dinner party for the group. It’s sure to be a grueling project and everyone should start off as comfortable as possible.”
“Sounds like you’ve already put a lot of thought into this,” Mick noted, still focused on her screen.
Quest shrugged. “We could have it here, make it very relaxed. We could cook all the food.”
Mick finally looked toward her husband where he sat before the coffee table. “We? You and me? Hmph, you’re just full of bad ideas today, aren’t you?” she criticized in a teasing voice, leaning back in his chair as she crossed her bare legs. “Do you know what’ll happen if we’re tied down in a kitchen together?”
Quest blinked, his gray eyes settling on his wife. “Tied down, huh?” he reiterated, appraising the line of her shapely chocolate form, much of which was left bare by the cotton short suit she wore.
Mick shook her head. “Stop, Quest.”
“Not unless you come over here,” he challenged.
Her lashes fluttered and the familiar stirring someplace unmentionable told Mick that was a challenge she would definitely not back away from. “If you insist,” she sighed, leaning close to the PC. “Just let me shut this thing down…can’t be,” she whispered then, her head tilting just slightly.
Quest’s brows drew close. “What?”
Mick was already reaching for the phone and dialing the number to the Savannah Police Department.
Quest left the floor and came to perch his tall frame against the side of his desk.
“Jillian Red, please.” Mick was speaking to the person on the other end of the line. She chewed her bottom lip as her nails tapped out a quick tune along the desk.
“Jillian Red.”
“Michaela Sellars,” Mick said, hoping her name would sound familiar.
There was a slight pause, and then laughter filtered through the receiver. Mick realized she had indeed reached her former contact during her reporting days. Of course, Jill refused to part with any information on herself until Mick shared what had been going on in her own life.
“Girl, what are you doing down South? Was the windy city too much for you?” Mick was asking.
Jillian was laughing. “That is a very long and dramatic story.”
“Well, are you still in forensics?”
“Hmph, the powers that be at my lovely former precinct didn’t seem to appreciate the fact that I was good at my job.”
“Uh-oh.”
“Mmm, anyway it seemed that I was getting too close to solving my last case and they trumped up some cause to remove me from my team and the force altogether.”
“Damn,” Mick whispered.
“Story of my life. So now, I’m in charge of the cold cases for the SPD,” Jill explained. “It was the only position I could find that was even remotely stimulating,” she confided.
“So are you working on anything now?” Mick asked.
“Just finishing up reports on a case I just closed.”
“Congratulations.”
“Please! I should be congratulating you,” Jill said, referring to the self-history Mick gave earlier in their conversation. “Successful author and happily married woman? Sounds like life is good.”
“Oh, it is,” Mick confirmed softly, tugging on Quest’s hand as she spoke, “but even a happily married woman could use a helping hand every now and again.”
“Do tell.”
“Are we still close enough to exchange professional favors?”
“Of course. What’cha got?”
Mick smiled and scooted closer to the desk. “Actually, it’s something I think you have—a cold case.”
Jill laughed shortly. “Yeah, I’ve got tons of those.”
“Well, if you can crack this one, I’ll bet the SPD would create a forensics position for you.”
Jill was silent a few moments as she processed the possibility. “Well, don’t keep me in suspense, girl, what’s the case?” she demanded eventually.
Mick looked up at Quest. “It’s a who, Jill. Sera Black.”
Ty stretched, luxuriating in the security of crisp, petal-pink cotton sheets and thick quilts. Her eyes opened to thin doe-shaped slits as though she were uncertain what she might see. The sight of her mother, caused a smile to widen on her face.
“Good morning,” she called. Seeing her mom brought a rush of warmth to her entire body.
Roberta “Bobbie” Lowery looked up from setting out breakfast in the small alcove in the bedroom. Seeing her daughter nestled in bed brought laughter lilting to the air. Tykira looked every bit the little girl and Bobbie realized then how much she’d truly missed having her home.
“Good morning, baby. Did you sleep well?” Bobbie asked.
Ty stretched again, curving her fingers around the edge of the pillowcases. “I slept very well. Even though my room doesn’t look the same,” she added slyly.
Bobbie’s head, full of thick natural tresses, bounced merrily when she laughed. “Honey, please, don’t scold an old lady for trying to spice things up.”
“Isn’t your life spicy enough, Miss Jet-setter?” Ty teased.
“You’re right,” Bobbie sighed. “I’m hardly ever here. Those Ramseys got me flying from one part of the world to another.”
Ty threw back her covers. “Anyway. You love it.”
Bobbie’s look was pure cunning. “Sure I do, but they might stop sending me on these all-expense-paid things if they knew that.”
The room filled with laughter.
“Now, I’ve got coffee and Danish,” Bobbie announced, clasping her hands together as she looked down at the cozy table. “We’ll finish the rest of our breakfast downstairs,” she decided.
“Mmm, coffee and Danish…conversation food,” Ty guessed, having left the bed to stroll toward the alcove. Obviously her mother was in the mood to talk—and she had a pretty good idea about the subject. Taking a seat on one of the cushioned cream armchairs, she leaned forward and smelled the pot of coffee. “Mmm…hazelnut. You want to discuss Quay,” she surmised coolly.
“Stop being a smart aleck,” Bobbie ordered, with a roll of her eyes as she took a seat. “I know you’ve seen him.”
“I’ve seen him,” Ty replied, her easy expression changing a bit.
“And?”
Ty helped herself to coffee. “He’s gorgeous.”
Bobbie rolled her eyes again. “I know that. What else?”
Ty kept her gaze averted. “What do you mean, what else?”
“Have you talked?”
Ty eased a stray lock behind her ear. “About what? We haven’t seen each other in fifteen years.” Well, actually more like two years, she added silently, recalling the reception.
“Exactly,” Bobbie said.
Groaning, Ty focused on choosing one of the heavenly Danish pastries from the white, floral-print China plate. “Mommy, have you forgotten the way things ended between us? Sorry, but that’s not a conversation I want to replay or a memory I want to relive.”
Bobbie broke a cinnamon Danish in half. “You’re still in love with him?” she asked knowingly.
Ty wouldn’t deny it. “What good will it do?” she asked, tucking her long legs beneath her on the chair. “Nothing would change. Quay isn’t as outwardly mean to me as he used to be, but there’s still a distance. I feel it in myself. I feel it in him, too. It’s as though he wants to be warm, but then…I don’t know,” she shook her head and concentrated on adding sugar and cream to the hazelnut blend. “Something always changes and that’s when I pull away and start to remember. Then I get angry with myself for—”
Bobbie leaned over to pat her daughter’s hand. “I understand,” she assured her. “Do you think there’s a chance that he’s trying to make things right between the two of you?”
Ty frowned at her mother’s question. “I don’t know why.”
“Oh boy,” Bobbie muttered, with a shake of her head. “So beautiful and successful, but still so dense at times.”
“Mommy!”
“Is it possible that he still loves you as much as you love him?”
“After fifteen years?”
Bobbie waved her hand. “What’s so crazy about that? Your feelings haven’t changed.”
“But this is Quay we’re talking about,” Ty reminded her mother, her brown eyes firm with agitation. “And if he loved me, then why would he have treated me so coldly all those years ago?”
“Honey, you two were babies and Quay was just young and stupid. But now, maybe he sees what he’s missed and he doesn’t want to lose you again. Personally, I’ve wanted to kick his butt for the way things ended between the two of you. But a part of me believes there was more to that entire mess than he ever let on to you or to anyone else.”
Ty shook her head, refusing to let her spirits soar over Bobbie’s assessment. “I just can’t see that,” she said, blowing at the surface of the coffee in her mug before helping herself to a taste.
“Have you ever just come right out and asked him why he treated you that way?” Bobbie challenged.
Ty’s lips parted, but she couldn’t respond. She wanted to tell her mother that she already knew why. Unfortunately, telling Bobbie that Quaysar Ramsey had gotten what he wanted from her and was done with her or that she’d given him her virginity and he’d given her his ass to kiss didn’t seem like prime info to be shared in a mother-daughter talk.
Thankfully, Bobbie felt that she’d given her daughter enough to think about and decided to leave her be. “Get showered and come on down for the rest of your breakfast,” she said.
Tykira stepped outside the express elevator and into the Ramsey twins’ dark, posh penthouse office. She cleared her throat purposefully, hoping one of them—preferably Quest—would appear and they could get the meeting underway. In spite of her dramas with Quay, she had become very involved and inspired by the monumental project.
Ty received her wish when Quest stepped from the elevator car a short while later.
“Where’s your crew?” he asked once they’d finished hugging.
Ty set her black portfolio onto the credenza. “They called from the plane to tell me they were just landing,” she explained, tossing her thick locks across her shoulders as she secured another larger portfolio beneath her arm.
“Sounds good,” Quest said, nodding as a curious light brightened his gray eyes. “So does the project have your creative juices flowing yet?” he asked, folding his arms across the oatmeal heather polo shirt he sported.
“Does it?” Ty cried, patting the portfolio under her arm. “Ideas started flowing as soon as I walked out of this office after our first meeting.”
Quest’s sleek brows rose. “Impressive.”
“Let me show you,” Ty urged, waving Quest toward his desk. The portfolio housed several preliminary sketches, which she spread out on the huge polished surface of the desk. “I’m not sure if the group prefers something more old-world style or a more modern look for the rail,” she explained, motioning toward the sketches as she spoke. “Maybe they’d like a mix of both styles to show in the finished design.”
Quest tugged the long sleeves of his shirt above his forearms. “This is somethin’,” he marveled, his gaze intent as he studied the work.
Tykira and Quest were still reviewing the drawings when Quay arrived in the main office.
“Man, you gotta see this. Ty’s got some really good sketches for the rail here,” Quest raved, glancing at his brother from across his shoulder.
Quay remained silent, unbuttoning the raspberry suit coat he wore over a jet-black shirt. Instead of joining the twosome at the desk, he took a seat at the back of the room and watched from afar.
Almost a week had passed since he and Ty had kissed in that very room. Since that time, his well-known and well-feared temper had begun a slow simmer. Quaysar Ramsey was not a man known for his patience—especially when it came to wooing a woman. He’d never had to be patient when the women came tumbling at his feet. A kiss, a soft-spoken compliment or glance usually did the trick. Many times it had taken far less. As usual, Ty had him stumped. Clearly, she didn’t trust him—that was for sure. He knew if he could win that back, she would be his.
Of course, something as precious as winning back trust didn’t happen overnight. Therein lay his problem. His thoughts were progressively filled with images of them together so long ago. They were just kids then and still that encounter was the standard by which he’d judged all others. There had been no equal, and he knew the only other encounter that could compete would be with her.
Ty tried to keep her mind on Quest and what he was saying, but all she could do was curse herself for wearing her most feminine suit for the meeting. The beige lightweight tweed skirt suit didn’t do a damn thing but call attention to her thighs thanks to the high split in the back of the skirt. Not only could she feel Quay’s ebony stare on her, she could see it each time she cast a casual glance across her shoulder to see if he’d left the room. No surprise, he hadn’t gone anywhere. He just sat there and continued to roam her body with so much familiarity, as though he’d become her lover that morning instead of fifteen years ago.
“These are terrific, Ty, just terrific. I can’t get over it.”
Quest’s excitement over the sketches roused Ty’s amusement. “I can’t wait to see your reaction when you see the real thing,” she teased.
“Quay, man, you should see this!” Quest once again beckoned his brother. He’d already turned back to scour the sketches further and didn’t hear his twin’s reply.
“I’m sure it’s as good as it looks,” he’d said. His eyes were unwavering and trained on Ty, who heard every word.
Quest was shaking his head. “You can really make somethin’ that looks like this?” he marveled.
Ty laughed aloud. “I can’t believe you’re so taken by this when Ramsey creates such phenomenal stuff.”
“Mmm-hmm, but our stuff is stationary. Not moving from place to place,” Quest pointed out.
“Haven’t you traveled by train before?” Ty asked, folding her arms over the tailored mocha shirt with its cuffed sleeves.
“I haven’t been on a train since me and Quay went to visit our grandparents in Savannah during our sophomore years in college. Remember, Quay?” he called.
“I remember,” came Quay’s slow response, but he was more interested in Ty’s reaction. Quest mentioning their grandparents’ estate had definitely affected her. Yes, she was remembering, too.
The silence caught Quest’s attention and he tuned into the heaviness of the moment. Clearing his throat, he backed away from the desk and rubbed his hands together.
“I better go check on the refreshments for your crew before they arrive,” he said, before making his way out of the office.
Ty turned and leaned against the desk, her head bowed. Quay finally relinquished his seat in the back of the office and came to take his place next to her.
“Remember how much fun we used to have at my grandparents’ place?” he asked.
Ty let out a deep breath and nodded. “Almost everything fantastic that happened to me when I was young happened there,” she admitted,
Quay inched closer, his shoulder brushing hers. “Remember that week?”
Ty wouldn’t pretend to misunderstand. “I remember it. I could never forget it.”
Quay had been aching to touch her since he’d seen her there in the office. Now, he gave in to his desire and trailed his fingers across the line of her cheek.
Ty leaned into the touch only briefly, before she bristled and moved away. “I’m sure many girls remember that place,” she said, tossing her head back.
Quay winced, the barb causing a flash of hurt to appear in his dark eyes. “I never took other girls there,” he denied in the softest tone.
“Hmph, unless they were virgins, right?” she threw back, not wanting to believe the place had been as special for him as it had been for her.
Quay eased away from the desk and moved to stand before her. “You’re the only one I ever took there,” he swore, staring directly into her eyes. “You’re the only one I ever wanted to take there.”
Tykira tilted her head back, hoping to prevent unexpected tears from spilling. Quay’s eyes locked in on the thick glossy fullness of her hair tumbling down her back.
“You only took me there once,” she quietly reminded him.
He cupped both hands around her neck and propped his thumbs beneath her chin. “That was the biggest mistake I ever made.”
“Quay…” she breathed, her words ending on a moan when he stepped between her legs.
His hands lowered to her thighs, cupping them gently as his lips trailed the curve of her jaw. The kiss was slow and unhurried and every bit Quaysar Ramsey being something he never was—the giver instead of the taker. He taunted her mouth with slow lunges that were light and teasing. His hands massaged the firmness of her thighs, loving the feel of strength mixed with the female allure he felt there. How he wanted to show this woman that his very last intention was to purposely hurt her. Protecting her was what drove him, loving her was almost driving him mad. She was everything to him and, in trying to do the best thing, he’d wound up losing the best thing he’d ever known.
Ty, on the other hand, was intent on being the taker, taking everything Quay had to give. She yearned for him to touch her with demand but he was gentle, and that was just as sweet. He caressed her, skirting her breasts, brushing the backs of his massive hands across nipples that strained against her blouse. When his fingers disappeared beneath her skirt, she cried out softly in pleasure. When he simply plied the satiny inner walls of her thighs with his touch and went no further, she arched and rubbed against him in hopes of encouraging him to move on.
Quay ended the kiss, pressing a soft peck to the corner of her mouth. Not wanting the moment to end, she reflexively tightened her thighs about his waist. Quay only nuzzled the soft flesh below her ear and smoothed his hand across her hip to persuade her to release him. Knowing it wouldn’t be long before Quest returned, he wanted to give Ty—and himself, for that matter—the chance to catch her breath and become presentable.
It was almost impossible for Ty to accomplish. Everything shook uncontrollably. Finally, she braced her hands against the edge of the desk and took deep gulps of air until the feeling had passed.
Quay had returned to his seat just as the elevator doors opened and Quest returned with Tykira’s crew in tow. The not-too-nice side of Quaysar’s demeanor had subsided to a happy place during his time alone with Ty. Now, it was returning at a boil this time as he watched her run to greet the group of men. Of course, they each had to hug, kiss and hold her close, far longer than he thought was necessary.
Since Quest had already met the guys, Ty turned to make the introductions to Quay. Only Quest caught on to his brother’s mood when Quay simply waved from his place at the rear of the office. Closing his eyes for a brief prayer, Quest only asked that they make it through the meeting.
But Quay was in no mood for a meeting. He was more interested in surveying Ty with her group of design engineers. He was especially interested in the one who had been holding her hand since he’d stepped into the office. Quay didn’t like it and had no problems admitting that. He disliked it so much, in fact, that he went over to Ty and intruded on the cozy conversation she was holding with Samuel Bloch.
“Why don’t we get this meeting started,” he suggested, keeping his hand at the small of Ty’s back while escorting her from Sam’s side.
The group took their places in the conference room, also nestled within the penthouse office. Ty remained cool and poised while spreading the railcar drawings on the table, but inside her mind was racing. She was more than curious about Quay’s mood—she was downright dumbfounded. She could barely go five seconds without him touching her someplace and his unsettling dark eyes practically bored holes through Sam. Thankfully, only she and Quest noticed.
“All right,” she began, clearing her throat as she leaned close to the table. “Quest’s already taken a look at the preliminary sketches I faxed to you guys last week. He seems pleased,” she noted, smiling when Quest nodded. “Still, these are only preliminary mock-ups, we’ve got a long way to go.”
Her words prompted hearty discussion then. Obviously, everyone was stimulated by the demands of the project. Even Quay let go of some of his moodiness to offer his own suggestions regarding the rail. In truth, he found it incredible that Tykira had such a flare for the gritty business of railcar design. However, he knew if he were to compliment her on her expertise, she was likely to think he was patronizing her. The discussion was definitely productive, but Ty couldn’t deny how pleased she was when Quest brought the meeting to a close.
“My wife, Michaela, and I will be having a dinner party to get you all acquainted with the rest of our executive team,” he was saying. “We’ll be in touch with the particulars, and if there’s nothing else pressing right now—” he paused for last-minute comments “—we’ll meet back here in the morning,” he finished.
“Tyke? Would you stay?” Quay asked in a voice only she could hear.
Suspicious, she flashed him a guarded look but offered no comment. The rest of the guys were preparing to leave and she had no desire to be alone with Quay then. Still, she managed a nod in response to his request. The last thing she needed was to draw attention to what was going on between the two of them.
“Guys, I’m staying with my mom now, but we’ll meet later at the hotel, all right?”
“Sounds good,” Morton Garner called in response to Ty’s question.
“We’ll meet you in the hotel lounge,” Gary suggested.
“I’ll just ask for you at the front desk,” Ty added.
The group said their goodbyes and Quest offered to show them out. The instant Ty heard the elevator doors slide shut behind them, she bolted from the chair she occupied next to Quay.
“What are you doing?” she demanded to know.
“What’s goin’ on with you and Sam?” he asked, appearing unfazed by her anger.
“Sam?” Ty parroted, rolling her eyes when Quay only stared in response. “He’s the head of my crew.”
“And what else?”
“He’s also my friend.”
“And what else?”
“It’s none of your business,” she interjected, her lovely face contorted into a harsh glare.
Quay focused on the silver pen he manipulated with his fingers. “Have you slept with him?”
“What if I have?” Ty challenged, folding her arms across her chest. Her glare lost a bit of its intensity when Quay snapped the pen in half. Dismissing her unease, she stepped closer to the conference table. “What if I sleep with a different one of them every night? It’s none of your damned business!” she raged, sick of being sweet and civil. “You had your chance. I gave you everything and you used it to make me feel lower than dirt,” she whispered then, turning away lest he see an emotion other than anger fill her eyes. “I doubt you’ve got any real interest in this side of the project, Quay, so why don’t you just stay away from it?” she suggested, her back still toward him. “Otherwise, I might be entitled to inflict a little pain of my own.” She turned to face him then. “I think I’ve damned well earned that right, don’t you?” she inquired softly, and then swiped her belongings into her portfolio and left the room, cursing that there was no door for her to slam.
“Small piece of advice, Quay. Our waitress is liable to spit in both our salads if you’re more rude to her than you’ve already been.”
Quay slanted his twin a black glare before tossing back what remained of his drink.
“Just a little advice,” Quest said, his hazy gray stare still focused on his menu.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Damn right.”
Obviously stunned by his twin’s quick, honest response, Quay slammed his glass to the table.
Quest’s left-dimpled grin deepened as he used his napkin to wipe away the remnants of the brown liquor that sloshed from his brother’s glass. “You deserve exactly what you got and more. I’m surprised Ty waited this long to tell you to go to hell.”
Quay’s fist slammed to the table in response.
Quest finally ceased his taunts and leaned back in his chair. “You wanna talk about it?” he asked.
Quay shrugged. “Why should I when you’re right?”
“Give it time, Quay,” Quest urged, tossing his napkin to his twin’s side of the table. “You hurt her. Bad.”
“There were reasons.”
“That’s right. There were reasons. Maybe it’s time to live in the present, hmm?”
“And that would serve what purpose?” Quay queried in his cockiest tone.
Quest rolled his eyes and focused on his menu again. “Tykira’s like family. The purpose it would serve is you’d be acting civil toward someone we’ve known all our lives.”
Still brooding, Quay lost a bit of his agitation and considered his brother’s words. As soon as his mood began to mellow, he felt his frustration began to mount again. His midnight stare narrowed with murderous intensity toward a couple who’d just entered the dining room.
“What are you having? Quay?” Quest called, finally glancing up. Seeing the expression his twin wore took Quest’s mind totally off eating. “Quay?” he called again, sitting a bit straighter in his seat. He knew the look well. Any second now, Quay would be pounding some poor fool’s face in. Quickly, Quest glanced around to determine what had gotten his twin’s jock in a bunch. Then he saw Tykira, beautiful and glowing, laughing at something Sam Bloch had just whispered in her ear.
“Son of a bitch,” Quaysar muttered, his hand too weak to even clench a fist.
“Quay…” Quest called in warning, already poised to stop his brother from storming across the restaurant.
Quay, however, didn’t have the strength to stand, let alone storm anywhere. A cloud had settled across his brain, rendering him dizzy and completely helpless. His entire body felt weak. His heart was in his throat.
“What’s she doing with him?” he whispered.
Quest opened his mouth, then closed it, trying to put his opinion into the most calming terms. “They’re business partners, man. I’m sure it’s just something to do with the rail,” he explained, knowing he probably wouldn’t have believed that either.
“I need to get out of here,” Quay decided, tugging fiercely at the banded collar of his shirt.
Quest was already reaching for his wallet. “You need me to go with you?”
Quay grinned. “Hell, yeah, if you expect me to leave without makin’ a fool of myself.”
Tossing a few bills to the table, Quest stood and, keeping a firm grip on his brother’s upper arm, escorted him from the dining room. Of course, the twins never went anywhere unnoticed. Such was the case that day, as every woman who caught sight of them helped herself to an intense study of their heavenly good looks and powerful, lean muscular frames. Not surprisingly, Ty saw them as they walked by.
Quest jerked Quay to a halt and nodded before closing the distance between himself and Ty.
“Hey, love,” Quest whispered, drawing her into a hug.
“Quest,” Ty greeted, her lashes fluttering as she tried to keep her eyes off Quay.
“You two got time to join us?” Sam asked while shaking hands with Quest.
“Nah, we gotta run, but thanks,” Quest said, winking at Ty when he noticed her relieved expression. Then, catching Quay’s arm, he and his brother left the restaurant.