Don't Say No Page 23

  “Okay, okay.” He sighed. “Then promise me something.”

  “What?”

  “That when you get to New York, you’ll build up Darlene’s again and make it everything you ever dreamed.” He lifted a shaking hand and cupped her chin. “And if in six years I’m not back then you’ll go ahead and find someone else to love. You’ll find someone who can give you the love, the three kids and the picket fences I can’t. Promise me.”

  He waited – and waited. Finally she gave a short, sharp and reluctant nod. “I’ll try.”

  “I don’t want you to try,” he insisted. “I want you to do. You’ll find someone else.”

  “I’m sorry Nic, that’s all I can give you without outright lying. I have loved you for all my adult life. It won’t be easy to forget or replace you.” She cradled his face. “I know because I tried.”

  It was selfish but the thought that he’d marked her as she’d marked him and that he wasn’t easily replaceable warmed him. He gave her the barest of nods. “Fine.”

  She studied his face, then tilting her head, she said, “And I want a promise from you.”

  “What’s that?”

  “That you’ll live.” She dragged in a huge breath. “And if you do, you’ll come back to me.”

  His lips twitched as he mimicked her, “I’ll try.”

  That earned him a pat on his cheek. Her eyes were wide and her tone somber as she said, “I’m serious, Nic.”

  “I am too.” His expression sobered. For an instant, he simply held her gaze, savoring her intent expression then he touched his lips to hers. His lips tilted in a crooked smile. “I’ll do everything to keep from getting killed and if I do I’ll come looking for you.”

  “You swear?”

  “I swear.”

  She eyed him doubtfully. “Nic?”

  “I swear.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her lips. “I swear I’ll come back for you.”

  She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes at him. “If you don’t… If you don’t…”

  “I will.” He peppered her face with kisses. “I love you, baby.”

  “I love you too.” She snuggled against him and closed her eyes. As her breath evened out into sleep, she murmured, “Stay alive for me.”

  He would try. And if he failed he hoped that she would keep her promise too. Move on and find someone who could give her the happily ever after that he couldn’t.

  He wanted her to be happy.

  In the morning when she woke up he would be gone.

  EPILOGUE

  Five Years, Eight Months Later

  “Two hundred and fifty thousand for five percent, we have a deal?” Zeke Landa-Hollis tilted his neck in enquiry.

  Melanie tapped her pen on the mahogany boardroom table as she considered the offer. It was more than she’d initially expected but a few days ago she’d received another offer from a competing company that was just as good. The question now was, did she want to work with Landa-Hollis Investments?

  She did.

  She nodded. “We have a-”

  “Wait,” Edya Landa-Hollis cut in. Despite her position as the Chairman of Landa-Hollis, the fifty-something year old woman hadn’t spoken since Melanie’s entrance into the boardroom, leaving all the negotiating to her son. She gave Melanie a piercing stare. “Why can’t we get more? One million for twenty percent.”

  Melanie gave the older woman a studied look. “Thank you for the offer but that’s more of my company than I’m willing to or need to give. Why cut off my hand when all I need to give up is my pinky finger?”

  “Because my time is worth more than five percent,” Edya said with a dry edge to her tone. “With the Landa-Hollis brand behind you, you could run the fashion world.”

  “I agree. You’d be a valuable addition to the Darlene family.” Melanie squared her shoulders. “But with all due respect even at five percent you are getting massive value for your investment. Darlene’s New York’s net profits have consistently risen since conception. The LA and San Diego stores have already broken even and will make profit by the end of this quarter.”

  Melanie paused, glanced at the mother and son team then continued, “We have purchase orders from Printemps, Gruppo Coin along with many other international stores. We’re in the process of shifting production from the US to the Philippines which will massively increase our margins and double our profits. Not only will you get your money back within one year, but you’re adding to your portfolio a company that will make you lots of money for a very very long time.”

  “I like your clothes. I like your brand. I like your sales. I even like you, which is saying a lot. But five percent is nothing,” Edya countered with an elegant wave of dismissal. “It’s not enough to wet my appetite.”

  “Would you have taken five percent of YouTube?” Melanie countered, earning herself a raised eyebrow from Edya.

  For a moment, Melanie thought she’d blown it, then Edya smiled. “Well played, Miss Daniels.”

  An hour later, Melanie stepped out of Landa Towers with a smile and a contract. As soon as she got into her Lexus, she dialed Cece’s number.

  “Did we get it?” Cece piped up the moment she picked the phone. “Did we get it?”

  Melanie paused for effect then said, “We got it.”

  The car erupted into a cacophony of cheers as the two women celebrated Melanie’s new deal.

  “Get on a plane right now and come over,” Cece ordered. “We need to pop champagne and drink some of that money you just made.”

  Melanie laughed. “You know I’ve never been one to refuse a nice bottle of champagne. But I doubt Jeff will like me getting his baby mama and unborn son drunk.”

  “Pooh,” her friend dismissed. “I’m thinking this little boy need to get mellow anyway. He’s been kicking me so hard I’m ready to run my wheelchair into the middle of the road. Why can’t he be easy like Honey?”

  Though Cece had survived the Vance attack, she’d experienced extensive spinal cord injury and couldn’t walk. Her disability brought on several challenges but her relationship with Jeff had survived it as had her ability to have children. Despite her blustering assertions that she didn’t want any kids, Cece was now the mother of a daughter, Honey, and expecting a son soon.

  “I’m flying in next week,” said Melanie. “We’ll do lunch. Pop some OJ. The works.”

  “You promise?”

  “I promise?”

  “No getting busy on me and postponing, Ms CEO.”

  Melanie chuckled. “No postponing.”

  After saying her goodbyes, she started her car and pulled out of the parking lot. New York by night was almost as lively as New York by day. The city had turned out to be everything Melanie expected and more. There were no false starts for Darlene’s. Within a few months of opening, the paparazzi had snapped a picture of a celebrity walking out of the store and things took off from there. Darlene’s had blown up and flourished beyond Melanie’s expectations.

  To a certain extent, Vance had contributed to her success. If he hadn’t pushed her out of Berkeley, she likely wouldn’t be here. Was she thankful? Hell no, she still had nightmares of his amber eyes staring coldly at her and that creepy smile as he beat her up. The memory had her taking a deep shaky breath as she neared her house.

  She’d purchased the three-bedroom mid-century bungalow a year ago. It was all white concrete, red brick and glass. With its low roofline and large windows facing the main road, it was a beautiful piece of architecture. Some would say it was too big for a woman living alone. For Melanie it was the right size. After living a good portion of her life in matchboxes, she deserved something big.

  Melanie punched her code into the column of concrete by the tall, black, rail gates. The gates swung open and closed smoothly behind her as she crossed through their threshold. She drove over the white stone path bordered by a well manicured lawn to park in the entry courtyard. After securing her car, she made her way to the house.

  Sh
e stepped into silence. Only the hum of electronic devices punctuated the house’s still loneliness. Flipping on the light switch, she dumped her purse on the rustic, wooden bench by the front door before kicking off her black pumps.

  Untucking her vivid green blouse from her black pencil skirt, she made her way to the living room. The room was the picture of retro; from the white tongue and groove ceiling, to the stained red concrete floor, to the colorful vintage Danish furniture. The answering machine’s light was blinking indicating the presence of messages.

  As soon as she clicked on the machine, the electronic voice recited, “Message. Five forty five. Marcus.”

  Marcus’s voice echoed soon after, “Ey. Forgot my phone at the shop again and I can’t remember your cell-phone number. But I wanna know how your meeting went down. Call me, a’ight?”

  He picked up on the first ring and she told him, “I got it.”

  “Whaaaat?” Marcus called out enthusiastically. “I told you you had that.”

  After another round of congratulations from her brother, she asked, “How about you? How did your date with that girl go?”

  There was long pause from the other end of the phone then Marcus said, “It was cool.”

  Melanie knew her brother too well. “That bad?”

  “Yeah,” he finally confessed. “When I let her know that I was an ex-con, she started giving me attitude. Then she went to the bathroom and I ain’t seen her since. I waited on her in that damn restaurant for an hour before the waiter told me she’d left.”

  “Okay, that’s rude.” Melanie felt a stab of anger on her brother’s behalf. Marcus had worked so hard to come from the man he’d been those years ago.

  He’d worked his way up from being a mechanic to managing a car shop. All that, while being an amazing single dad. She had to admit that even she was surprised that he’d kept his promise to do better. But he had. She wished that other people could see beyond his past and stop judging him constantly. She sighed. “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m good,” he dismissed. She could imagine him shrugging his broad shoulders.

  “It might be a minute but I’m sure you’ll find someone,” she added.

  “It’s a’ight.” That was Marcus’s code for ‘I don’t want to talk about this anymore’.

  So she changed the subject. “Is Sly still up?”

  “He ain’t even in the house,” Marcus said. “He’s gone out with that little girlfriend of his. Leona.”

  “She’s that girl he started dating last week, right?”

  “Yeah, well, I told him to wrap up Jimmy. I ain’t got time to be a grandfather.”

  Melanie laughed, imagining her little brother as a grandfather at thirty. She liked to think it was unlikely to happen, but despite his studiousness, Sly liked the ladies a little too much and had game that kept them coming. So far the fifteen year-old player had managed not to get anyone pregnant. They were crossing their fingers that their luck would keep.

  Once she’d ended the conversation with her brother and promised to call the next day, Melanie made her way to the kitchen. Deciding against cooking since it was so late, she poured herself a glass of wine then carried it with her to the bedroom. Yet as she unbuttoned her blouse shrugged out of it and the skirt, she couldn’t help envying her brother. Sure he didn’t have a wife but at least he had Sly.

  Despite her success in other areas of her life, what she wanted the most had eluded her. What she wouldn’t have done to have children of her own; little voices to add life to this empty house. She cupped her hand over her belly as she stood in the bathroom wondering if it was too late for her. She hoped not, but it was a bed she’d made years ago and she had no choice but to lie in it.

  Her sigh melted within the sound of water rushing against ceramic. As the bathtub filled up, she set her glass on its edge. She squeezed a few dollops of sweet-scented bubble-bath into the water, lit up two scented candles and then put on some music. Michael Learns To Rock’s soulful vocals filled the rapidly warming bathroom.

  There is no excuse, my friend, for breaking my heart,

  Breaking my heart again.

  This is where our journey ends,

  You’re breaking my heart again.

  A fist close around her heart and squeezed at the poignant lyrics. The words spiked her loneliness and despite herself, tears gathered behind Melanie’s eyes. She closed her eyes and sunk into the water up to her neck. The music and the warm bath eased her tension and lulled her into relaxed drowsiness. She didn’t even hear the bathroom door open or realize that she was no longer alone. Not until she felt the air by the tub move then a touch of lips on her forehead.

  Her eyes opened into thin slits. And met his.

  He’d changed again. The lush midnight curls were no more, replaced by a low dirty blond crew-cut, and he was clean shaven. But she recognized those dark eyes, the sensuous lips and the tall, muscular frame, wrapped only in a white terrycloth towel, in an instant.

  Her heart leaped in shock and her startled cry echoed in the bathroom. “Nic!”

  “Hey, baby.” His velvet low voice stroked her nerve endings.

  She almost drowned in her scramble to sit up and launch herself into his arms. He caught her easily, lifting her out of the bathtub. She wrapped her still wet limbs around his neck and flanks, clinging onto him tightly. “You’re here.”

  “I am.” He boldly captured her lips with his. His taste was as delicious and as heady as she remembered. Her senses spun at the pressure of it, stretching as heat spread through her. She melted into it, parting her lips to let his tongue penetrate her defenses.

  He was here.

  Nic deepened the kiss, settling his mouth fully over hers as his hands danced over her naked skin, soothing over her shoulders, her back and her ass. His touch sent sensation skittering through her nerve endings and giving her a stunning taste of everything she’d missed.

  And despite herself, a tear slipped down her cheek. Another followed, then another, and another.

  He parted their lips. “Why are you crying?”

  She didn’t respond instead burying her face in the crook of his neck. Seeing him here, in her house, after close to six years of waiting was overwhelming. Tears fell from her eyes unabated to soak into his skin.

  It was some time before she was capable of speech. By that time, he’d moved them from the bathroom and to her bedroom. He sat on the edge of the bed with her straddling his lap, her head tucked into the crook of his neck and her palm over his heart.

  He pushed aside a moist tendril of hair from her cheek and tucked it behind her ear. “You okay?”

  She nodded, afraid to speak lest the tears started again. He rubbed small circles over the palm she had over his heart before bringing her hand up to his mouth and placing several kisses on her knuckle. She lifted her gaze to his. For a moment they simply stared at each other, their eyes trading silent messages. He bent his head and brushed his warm mouth on hers. This kiss was as tender as it soothing, but it still sent a shock of desire through her.

  There was no foreplay, only a pushing aside of his towel, a small lift and then he was pushing into her.

  Melanie gave a breathless whimper as he fed his cock into her inch by inch. She pressed down to meet him, delighting in his naked steely hardness and the way he filled her pussy to the hilt. She absorbed him completely, her walls closing tightly around him in welcome.

  Oh, yes. She’d missed him. Missed this.

  When his strong hands cupped the cheeks of her ass, she shuddered. When he squeezed, lifted her up then let her fall on his rod again, she moaned as did he. She clutched his shoulders, the hardness of his corded muscles only agitating her already overheated body.

  “Right there. Yes. Yes. Yes. Ooh. Aaah!” Moans, whimpers, groans, skin slapping against skin, their juices mingling; the erotic sounds of their fucking filled the room. Nic’s fingers closed around her neck as his other hand squeezed her ass urging her to ride him harder.

 
; And ride him she did. She tightened her walls around his cock, squeezing him hard each time he entered her until they were both breathing roughly. Their mouths met in a violent kiss, their tongues clashing in rhythm to her frantic rise and fall.

  Nic abruptly stood up, stumbling away from the bed with her in his arms and their lips still melded together. This time he was in control. Melanie screamed with the first forceful pump. But he didn’t let up! He pounded into her with all the force of a wild, unleashed animal..

  His strokes were as deep, hard and long as they were never-ending. His hips continued to piston into her, unrelenting, until she finally crossed the precipice. She contracted around him in a powerful orgasm. Her keening cry echoed in the room. With a few short, fast strokes and a growl, he soon followed.

  “You came back,” she said when they were finally side by side and facing each other

  “I came back.” He smiled and fused his lips to hers again.

  This time the kiss was more comfort and soothing rather than hungry, and when he came over her and inside her again, his strokes were more relaxed.

  “I missed you,” she moaned, her arms tightening around his neck.

  “I missed you too,” he returned on a ragged breath as he pumped into her slowly sending pleasure rippling through her in undulating waves. “I love you.”

  “I love you t-” Her words faded into a keening cry as once she lost herself in him.

  “Lanie,” he growled her name as he too rode the waves until they crested. With a groan he released his seed deep inside her again.

  It was only while he held her over his chest a couple of minutes later that it hit her. “Nic, we didn’t use protection.”

  “I know,” he responded, his easy tone dripping with unconcern. Touched his head, he asked, “What do you think of my new haircut?”

  Melanie leaned forward and ran her palm over the close crop. “I like it.”

  “Good, because you’ll have to live with it for quite a while.” He offered her a roguish smile. “What’s your take on FBI agents?”