Longing and Lies

Chapter 3

Ashley found a parking space a block away from the office. She took the time walking to compose herself before Mia read the anxiety all over her face. Living with a man she didn’t know! Even for The Cartel that was asking a bit much. What made them think that she and Mr. Arrogance could ever in this lifetime work together?

She was going to have to do some serious meditating in order to ready herself for the assignment. Even if it was the highest of compliments to be chosen by Jean for two assignments in a row, she wasn’t sure that she was cut out for this one.

Ashley pushed open the door to MT Management, Mia Turner’s event-planning business and was pleased to see Savannah and her baby daughter, Mikayla.

“Hey! This is a surprise.” Ashley dropped her purse on one of the desks and went straight to Mikayla and scooped her up for a kiss. “How’s my girl? Look at you, looking all beautiful.” She nuzzled her neck to squeals of delight.

“Can’t a sister get some love?” Savannah asked in mock hurt.

Ashley waved her hand in dismissal. “Later.” She went on kissing and hugging the baby before finally setting her back down in the stroller. “What brings you here? Off today?” She kissed Savannah’s cheek.

“Took an R&R day. My boss was working me to the bone.” She laughed good-naturedly. “Plus I needed to spend some time with my pumpkin,” she added, stroking her daughter’s curly head. “Thought we could do lunch. Danielle is on her way.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“I hear you got another assignment.”

“Word travels fast in this town.” She plopped down into the seat opposite Savannah and stretched her legs out in front of her.

Savannah giggled. “What’s a little espionage between friends.”

“Yeah,” she said halfheartedly.

Savannah tilted her head to the side. “Problem?”

Ashley blew out a breath of frustration. “Something like that.”

“Hey, Ash,” Mia said breezing into the waiting area from her back office. “How’d it go with Jean?”

“Since we’re doing lunch today, why don’t I wait until we’re all together.”

As if on cue, Danielle came sailing in, fashionable as always and dramatically swept off her sunglasses. “Hey all.” She looked from one face to another. “Gee, I feel like I walked into an intervention. What’s up?”

“Ashley said she’d tell us over lunch,” Mia offered.

Danielle arched a brow. “Sounds serious.”

“Not that bad, but bad enough,” Ashley said.

“So why are we all sitting around,” Danielle said. “I want to hear this.”

The stunning quartet, gathered purses, keys, cell phones and stroller and headed out.

They arrived at their favorite eatery, The Shop. They’d been coming as a group for so long, they had their own booth and the waitstaff knew them by name.

The quartet settled down in their seats and flipped open their menus.

“Does this little gathering call for drinks?” Danielle asked.

“I could sure use one,” Ashley said. “But it’s still early. Oh, what the heck. Let’s order a round.”

“That serious, huh?” Savannah asked.

Ashley sighed and leaned back against the worn brown leather seat. “I’m probably making more out of this than necessary, but the whole thing just rubs me the wrong way.”

Phyllis, the waitress, came to take their orders. It was a round of their favorite, grilled salmon salad with tahini dressing and mojitos. With that out of the way, all eyes were on Ashley.

She told them about her meeting with Jean and Bernard.

“So far so good,” Mia said.

“Then in walks Elliot Morgan.”

Three pairs of eyes widened as Ashley described their meeting and the not-very-subtle animosity that flashed between them.

“He’s pompous, arrogant and so full of himself,” Ashley groaned. “And they want us to live together!” She folded her arms and pouted like a three-year-old.

The women broke out into laughter.

“Girl, your problem is you haven’t had a man in your air space in so long you don’t know how to handle it.” Savannah chuckled.

“For real,” Danielle concurred.

Ashley was visibly appalled at the lack of support from her girls. They were supposed to be on her side. Sure, she hadn’t had a real relationship in longer than she cared to admit. She knew she had commitment issues, deep-seated fears of loss. Loss that she hadn’t shared with anyone, not even her girls. There was a part of her that believed she didn’t deserve someone to care about her and her about them. The guilt of all those years ago still haunted her.

They all nodded, biting back smirks. Even little Mikayla was laughing and kicking her feet in her stroller.

Mia leaned forward, schooling her expression. “Look, sis, no one knows better than me how weird it can be living with a man. When Steven and I got together it was tough at first.”

“Yeah, but he’s your man. Now your husband. That’s something completely different. I don’t know this jerk from a hole in the wall.”

“You did say he looked like Idris Elba, didn’t you?” Danielle said, egging her on.

Ashley rolled her eyes.

“Look, it’s just an assignment. You’ll have separate rooms and separate lives outside of the case,” Savannah said, always the practical one. “Just worry about the job.”

That was just it, Ashley thought. The job. But maybe Savannah was right. Focus on the assignment. It may well lead her to what she’d been searching for over the past twenty years—answers.

Elliot turned the key in the door of his third-floor walk-up on West Eighth Street in the Village. He’d found the place after a less-than-exhaustive search, but fell for it right away. His apartment was in a prewar building, with vaulted ceilings and enormous rooms. His one-bedroom apartment in any other neighborhood in Manhattan would go for three times the amount with the rooms cut down to bite-sized pieces. The neighborhood was an eclectic blend of class, culture, language and age, from seedy to high end and everything in between. It was a mecca for the artsy and a paradise for lovers of music, avante-garde shops and cozy cafès. The perfect place to blend in, able to see and go unseen.

He locked the door behind him and began tugging his fitted T-shirt over his head as he strolled from the front hallway, through the mostly unfurnished living room to his bedroom located in the back, facing the park. He tossed his shirt on the bed and absently rubbed the raised, circular scar on his shoulder, the result of a gunshot wound from a man who wished he’d been a better shot. Elliot clenched his teeth. He’d been distracted that afternoon in the alley, by memories of the argument he’d had with Lynn the night before.

It’s the first rule in his line of work; relationships are a distraction. Hit It and Quit It, was the slogan among the guys. He should have listened. Then what happened later would not have mattered as much, wouldn’t have hurt him so much. It changed him. Now he was a poster child for the boy’s club mantra.

Elliot pulled the envelope he’d gotten from Jean out of his back pocket. He unfolded it and tried to flatten it out on the bed by running his fist over it. It refused to succumb to his manipulations and curled back up.

“Figures,” he groused, flopping spread-eagle across the bed. He tossed a thick, muscled arm across his eyes and a crystal clear image of Ashley popped behind his lids with such preciseness, the near-reality shot a jolt of denied longing to his groin. He felt his shaft throb and jump against the zipper of his jeans. “Down boy,” he grumbled, and forced his mind to the issue at hand—a new, unwanted assignment. He was a field operative. His specialty search and dispose. As a former Navy Seal he’d been trained for combat, for dealing swiftly and with stealth against the unseen enemy before he joined the FBI and worked as a part-time handyman for the CIA in their even shadier operations. This assignment was a slap in the face. Missing babies! He didn’t even like kids. They were a nuisance. Not to mention messy and noisy.

He ran through a laundry list of higher-ups that he may have pissed off to get saddled with this assignment and couldn’t come up with anyone. He lurched forward and sat up, snatched the envelope and opened it.

It pretty much laid out what Jean and Bernard explained earlier. But in reading the documents, he got a sudden chill when he went over some of the painfilled stories of the parents whose infants went missing. Included in the envelope was a list of adoption centers, fertility clinics and local hospitals.

A deep frown creased his brow. What kind of person would steal a baby from its parents? But he knew the answer. Money and greed were great motivators, and combined with persons of no conscience made for ugly scenarios. He released a heavy sigh as the ink began to fade on the pages.

These parents deserved some justice, he concluded. So he’d just suck it up and bring a clean and quick end to this madness. A half grin lifted the side of his full mouth. As a minor benefit he’d get to play hubby with the very sexy Ashley Temple, whether she liked it or not. He chuckled at the thought.

Chapter 4

“So are you feeling a little better about things?” Mia asked once she and Ashley had returned to the office.

Ashley gave a slight shrug of her shoulder. “I suppose.” She turned to Mia, her hand planted on her slender hips. “I’ve never lived with a man. Let alone a perfect stranger.” She frowned. “I like my independence.”

Mia dropped her oversized purse on the desk and looked at her friend. “Is that all that’s really bothering you?”

Ashley glanced away for an instant then looked at Mia. She almost smiled. “He is kinda fine in a pain-in-the-ass sort of way.”

They both giggled.

Ashley dropped her tense shoulders. “I guess it will be all right. The main thing is finding out who is behind the stealing and selling of babies.” A shiver ran through her.

“Exactly.”

Ashley pushed a smile onto her face, highlighting her prominent cheekbones. “So,” she said on a breath, “what’s on the agenda for today?”

But even as Mia ran down the list of upcoming events they had to take care of, Ashley’s mind was elsewhere. Elliot Morgan. Babies. Twenty years. Maybe this is a blessing in disguise.

Ashley walked through her small one-bedroom apartment, which she’d worked diligently on to transform from the drab place she’d originally rented into her cozy abode. Being an R&B music buff, she had one wall in her living room dedicated to some of her favorite artists: Smokey Robinson, Stevie, Luther, Gladys, Anita Baker, The Temps, James Brown, Michael Jackson, Jazmine Sullivan, Earth, Wind & Fire, Frankie Beverly and Maze, and Maxwell to name a few. Her collection was extensive, going back to some classic 45s and collector’s items album covers.

The sparkling wood floors were dotted with oversized pillows, low tables and standing plants. Rather than curtains or blinds in the windows, they were covered with hanging philodendrons.

But her bedroom was truly her sanctuary. Her queensized bed with its downy pillow-top mattress took up much of the small space. But it was truly fit for a queen. To conserve room, she had her flat screen television mounted on the wall. The one great amenity was the walk-in closet that housed her extensive wardrobe, another one of her addictions—clothes.

That brought to mind these new living arrangements. How was she going to get along without her music and all of her clothes and shoes? Sighing she tugged off her cropped sweater and put it in the bag for the cleaner.

She sat down on the foot of the bed and pulled off her ankle boots, just as her cell phone began to ring. She pulled it from the case on her hip and frowned at the unfamiliar number. She pressed the talk icon.

“Hello?”

“Hi. Ashley?”

The low timbre shimmied up her spine. “Who is this?”

“Sorry. It’s E—uh, Elliot Morgan.”

Her heart bumped against her chest. She cleared her throat. “Oh,” was all she could sputter as she tried to get her brain to catch up with the fact that he was on the phone.

“Look, I know I was being a jerk earlier today. And we, uh, probably got off on the wrong foot.”

Her brows rose in surprise. “Probably,” she teased and could almost see a smile on his face. She crossed her legs.

“So I was thinking that before we do this live-in thing maybe we should try to get to know each other…first.”

“Meaning?”

“Have you had dinner?”

“No, I haven’t.” She swallowed over the sudden knot in her throat.

“Can I interest you in dinner?”

What the hell! Was he asking her out on a date? Her pulsed pounded and her thoughts short-circuited.

“Hey, maybe that was a bad idea. Guess I’ll see you on moving—”

“No. I’m sorry. You just caught me off guard. Dinner. Sure.”

“I can pick you up in about an hour. Is that enough time?”

Her eyes widened even further. A real date. “Okay.” She started to give him her address.

“I already have it. In the file,” he added by way of explanation.

“If Jean is nothing else, she’s thorough. I’ll see you in an hour.”

“Right.” He hung up.

Ashley sat with the phone in her hand for a good two minutes mesmerized by what had transpired. Maybe the “real” Elliot Morgan would show up at dinner. She shook her head, her spiral curls and twists dancing on her head. Taking a quick look at her watch, she hopped up from her bed and began peeling off her clothes as she darted for the shower.

After numerous wardrobe changes, she’d finally settled on elegantly casual. She selected a pair of black straight-legged jeans, a pearl-gray blouse that shimmered in the right light, with a black silk button-up sweater. She was only five foot six in bare feet and Elliot was well over six foot, so she opted for her Ferragamo black ankle boots that oozed comfort even after long hours on your feet. She captured her hair carefree away from her face with a sparkling gray head band, pulling it into a halo around her face. Minimal makeup, a dab of African musk behind her ears and on her wrists and she was ready just as the doorbell rang.

Her stomach wobbled for a second and heat popped in her ears. She took a quick look in the mirror, left her bedroom and scanned the living room en route to the door, confident that everything was in its place. She went to the intercom, confirmed that it was Elliot and buzzed him in. Her heart pounded. Moments later her front doorbell rang. Straightening, she grasped the knob, turned it and opened the door.

The air stopped in her lungs. She wasn’t sure what to expect, but seeing him again did something to her that she couldn’t explain if you paid her. Everything about him was more intense, more magnified, bigger and brighter than when she’d seen him for the first time.

Was it the dark, searing eyes that seemed to peek into her soul from beneath half-lowered lids and silky lashes, or the cool chocolate of his complexion that blended seamlessly with his shirt, slacks and hip-length suede jacket? The combination so enticing and perfectly matched that his attire was more second skin than a cover-up. Perhaps it was the half smile that moved like a lazy river across his full lips giving just a hint of beautiful teeth.

“Hey,” he said, his low, almost gritty voice snapping her out of her momentary trance.

“Hi. Come on in. I need to get my jacket and purse.” She turned and commanded her lungs to inhale and exhale as she crossed the space on shaky legs, knew he was watching the sway of her hips and prayed that not only did he like what he saw, but that she didn’t trip.

Miraculously she made it to her bedroom. She drew in long, calming breaths of air. Blinking several times she focused on what she needed to do. She took her purse from the top of her dresser, checked for her cell phone, ID, house keys and wallet. She took her jacket from the back of the overstuffed armchair that sat like a Buddha near her window then went back out front.

She entered the room and watched him for an instant. He was turned halfway away from her, running his finger along the frame of a photograph that rested on a table in the short hall. His body was fluid almost as if it moved to some sultry beat in his head, so different from the tightly coiled man of earlier in the day. “All ready,” she announced.

He only turned his head in her direction, let his eyes run over her for a hot flash of an instant. “Cool. Let’s go.”

Elliot opened the door for her and as she passed him she caught the faintest hint of something manly, a clean and seductive scent that was more him than off the shelf. She liked it. She locked the door behind them.

“Did you have someplace in mind?” she asked as they walked down the stairs to the outside door. She felt his heat as he walked inches from her on the wide staircase.

“Why don’t I surprise you?”

She glanced up at him as he reached around her to open the door. His arm brushed her shoulder and she was certain she felt a jolt of heat race down to the pads of her fingers.

“I like surprises,” she said. “Most of the time.”

“We’ll hope for the best.”

They stepped outside into the cool spring night. He pointed to a midnight blue Jaguar parked across the street.

“You’re getting paid too much, or I’m in the wrong business,” she teased him as he opened the door of the lush automobile, its interior still carrying the scent of brand-new leather.

“Every now and then you have to treat yourself, especially in this business,” he said, as they settled in the car. “Unfortunately, I’m out of the country so much I rarely get a chance to drive it.”

Ashley fastened her seat belt. “How often do you…travel?”

He put the car in gear and she felt the gentle hum of the motor vibrate beneath her. Or was it more than the car that had her vibrating?

His jaw tightened. “I’m usually out of the country eight to ten months a year.” A hardness settled over his face, sending his prominent features into sharp relief.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s obvious that’s not something you want to talk about.”

He turned his head in her direction as he pulled up to a red light. For a moment he took in her profile, the slight jut of her chin, the long lashes that shadowed her eyes, the pert nose and firm set of her glossy lips. Everything about the way she stared straight ahead to the line of her shoulders indicated that he’d done it again—went on the attack for no good reason. At least none that anyone other than himself would understand. It was complicated, too complicated to explain the kind of limbo life that he lived. His constant sense of disconnection, waking up day after day not knowing where he was or who he was pretending to be.

“Sorry,” he offered. “Tough topic. Let’s talk about something else.” He gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter as her intoxicating scent wafted beneath his nose.

“Have you ever lived with a woman before?” she boldly asked.

Elliot tossed his head back and laughed from the pit of his gut. “You’re definitely direct,” he said, still chuckling.

A tiny smile teased the corners of her mouth. “So I’ve been told,” she tossed back. She angled her gaze in his direction. “Well?”

He drew in a breath and relaxed against the smooth leather interior. “Actually, no. This will be a first for me.” He turned to look at her and their gazes bumped against each other for what felt like a blissful eternity.

A car horn blared behind them. They both jerked away from the thing that held them in place. Elliot pressed down on the gas and took them across the intersection.

He cleared his throat. “So, uh, what about you?”

“No.” She paused. “Guess it’ll be the first time for the both of us.”

His mind went racing off in a million directions at once, all of them forcing him to adjust his position in his seat. Was this the same uptight, headstrong woman he’d met earlier? He knew there was fire beneath her she-warrior armor, but this was the kind of fire that burned from the inside out. Then his years of dealing with adversaries and those pretending to be something that they weren’t kicked in.

“The lounge is on the next block,” he said, changing subjects to one in which he could control. “Hopefully I can find a parking space.”

Ashley instantly noticed the shift in attitude and the sudden cool breeze in the car. She flicked a brow in dismissal and folded her arms. Just like I said in the beginning, she mused to herself, a pain in the ass. This was going to be a long night.

Chapter 5

They spent the next few minutes of the drive in an unspoken truce of silence. Ashley zeroed in on the passing traffic and pedestrians as if they were creations of the great Da Vinci and she had been commissioned to unlock the mysteries of the swaths of color and movement. In reality she didn’t see a thing, blinded by flashes of red as her temper continued to boil. Her body curled into a tighter and tighter knot of tension as the minutes ticktocked in her head.

Why was it so easy for him to irritate her to the point of distraction? She’d had her share of relationships. She knew how to handle men—both casual and serious. Elliot Morgan was a new breed, however. Her lips tightened into a line so thin as to be almost invisible.

She was so intent on her ire that she didn’t realize they’d come to a stop until her door was pulled open and Elliot’s large hand was extended for her to take. She blinked and looked up into his face. Whatever it was that had her coiled tight enough to snap, slowly began to unwind, and she felt the slow thud of her heart against her chest. The veil of red that had descended in front of her eyes was lifted, and even in the twilight of evening she could see sunshine.

She made herself breathe as she placed her hand in his and felt the strength of his grasp pull her to her feet. He didn’t bother to step back. When she stood there was a mere breath that separated them. For a moment they faced each other and she sank into the depth of his dark eyes and traveled to exotic places along the planes of his face.

“It’s right up the street,” he said, his voice low, stroking her below her waist as surely as if he actually touched her there.

She bobbed her head and muttered, “Okay.”

He moved back to give her room and she felt as if a chasm had opened in front of her and she longed for the security of his warmth and closeness. Somehow he managed to reach around her to close the car door, having her momentarily encircled in his warmth. He gave her a half smile and extended his hand in the direction of the club. Ashley fell in step beside him doubling her pace to keep up with his long stride.

The half-block-long line signaled that they had arrived.

“Wow, it must be packed,” Ashley said. “We’ll never get in.” She peered around the line of bodies.

“Not a problem.” He took her hand and walked her past the crowd, right up to the front door. “Hey, Lou,” he greeted the muscled man at the door. When Lou’s tight gaze and even tighter expression landed on Elliot, he actually smiled.

“Oh, man! Good to see you, brother. You have a lovely guest, I see.” He stepped aside to let them pass.

Ashley smiled.

“Be sure to see Gina,” Lou continued. “She’ll hook you up with some good seats.”

Elliot clapped Lou on the back. “Thanks, man.”

“For you…anytime. Don’t be a stranger.”

Elliot had yet to let go of Ashley’s hand, and the longer he held it the more she liked it.

“I take it you’ve been here before,” she teased.

Elliot chuckled. “Yeah, the owners are friends of mine. Nick Hunter and Sam Blackstone. If they’re around I’ll be sure to introduce you…in case you and your friends want to stop by sometime.” He guided her to the hostess podium. “Gina,” he cooed at the modelesque woman, who was at least six feet tall with sharp Ethiopian features—voluminous dark eyes, sweeping forehead and high cheekbones. Her long, slender neck gave her an even more regal appearance. Her ruby-red lips spread into a slow smile as her long lashes lowered over her eyes. She leaned forward taking Elliot’s face in her hands and kissing each cheek.