After Hours (15 page)

“You mean you have nothing to wear?” he said stunned.

“No, there are clothes here, but they aren’t mine.”

“That’s strange. I took everything she gave me.”

Amera paused. “She?”

“Yes, your maid.”

“I don’t have a maid.”

“Oh, well, she was very convincing. Not as a maid, she didn’t really look like a typical one, but she took total command of the move. She told me that she’d get in touch with you and explain everything.”

“She hasn’t and...” Amera paused when she saw a piece of paper with the word ‘Scan’ written across it. “I’ll call you back.” She disconnected with Owen then used her phone and scanned the paper. A video message popped up and an attractive dark, skinned woman appeared on the screen. The regal manner with which she held herself, immediately caught Amera’s attention. Her thick hair was braided and pulled to one side held in place with several hand carved hair combs. Her stunning dark eyes were lined with a hint of purple eye shadow, and her lips looked like painted red wine.

“Welcome to your new wardrobe. I’m sure it was a surprise, but it’s exactly what you need. No, don’t ask how I know. That’s not the point. Everything is in your size and yes, everything belongs to you--no returns. Your next task is to dress up and attend the office party.”

Amera watched the video three more times, not believing it. All of this was hers? Really? She touched the silk and fine hand-woven fabric of one of the dresses. Then she pressed her cheek against a beautiful lingerie set and ran her hand through the collection of brightly colored lace underwear, neatly arranged in several rows in the scented drawers. She’d never gone to the office party before, but she definitely would now.

She turned on some holiday music, something she usually didn’t do, but she felt as if Christmas had come early. Amera tried on several pairs of shoes and some of the jewelry with the enthusiasm of a little girl playing dress-up. Later, she grabbed several outfits and laid them out on the bed and tried them on. She was practicing some dance moves wearing one of the new dresses when she felt a presence. She spun around and saw Curtis staring at her from the doorway.

“I knocked,” he said.

She turned off the music. “Oh, sorry, si-- Did you need something?”

“It takes you this long to change for dinner?”

She’d totally forgotten about dinner. “I’ll be right there.”

Curtis shrugged unconcerned then walked into the room, his gaze going over the selection of clothes lying on the bed and the open closet. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Amera said, starting to clean up. “How’s your headache?”

“Gone. Looks like you’re preparing for something.”

She hung up a dress, there was no point in lying to him. “There’s the office party.”

He nodded. “Oh yes, I’d forgotten.” He pointed to a purple dress. “Try that one on.”

“What? Now?”

He nodded again.

“With you standing there?” she asked, nearly choking on her words.

He glanced at a chair. “You want me to sit down?”

“No, I mean. Why would you want to stay?”

He slowly closed the distance between them. “Is there anything wrong with a man watching his wife dress?” He lifted the dress off the bed.

Amera licked her lips. “No, but you usually don’t.”

He stood in front of her. “I’ve changed. Go on.” He handed her the dress. “Try this on first.” He pointed to another. “Then I’d like to see you in that.”

She swallowed. “Shouldn’t we eat first?”

“We can eat later.” He reached for her blouse. “Do you need me to help you?”

Amera stepped back, wishing he wouldn’t stand so close, wishing his presence didn’t make her body burn with longing. “No, I’ll be fine. I’m sure it doesn’t really matter what I wear.”

“It matters to me.”

She widened her eyes in fear. “You’re not coming too,” she said, more as a statement of fact than a question.

“You don’t want me too?”

“It would be a disaster...I mean, you never go,” she clarified. “You wouldn’t enjoy it.”

A mischievous grin spread on his face. “I know, plus nobody wants me there. I just wanted to see how you’d react. Now stop stalling. Every time you lick your lips like that, you make me want to kiss you.”

She sucked her lips in and lowered her gaze. She wanted him to kiss her, she wanted him to do a lot more. But not now when the daylight could show all her imperfections. “This isn’t like you.”

He lifted her chin. “Look at me.”

She reluctantly did.

“Are you really going to deny your husband this small pleasure?” he said his tone tinged with velvet persuasion.

“I told you that you don’t like this.”

“Refresh my memory.”

There was no way she could win this argument. It wasn’t that she was being demur or shy but she never undressed in front of anyone because of one painful reason. She’d never expected to have to reveal it to him, especially now when what he thought mattered to her. She took a deep breath, maybe he’d never remember anyway, he certainly wouldn’t ask her again after this. She took of her blouse then looked at him, gauging his reaction.

***

It was the look of defiance that heated his blood. He barely remembered the surprise he felt seeing the large scar that marred her chest, instead he remembered her eyes. Those light, compelling eyes mirroring a well of strength he’d always admired. He couldn’t turn away from them, glad that they weren’t filled with fear, but challenge. And that challenge aroused him. Never before had he seen how beautiful she was. Never before had he cared about the delicate shape of her nose, the smooth sheen of her skin, the fullness of her lips.

At first he’d wanted to get a little revenge for her deception about being his wife, and lying to him about the factory and Peale House. He didn’t like how the bracelet and the image of the little girl dancing in the video shook him more than he wanted them too. And he hadn’t lied about the headache, something bothered him about what Amera had been saying, but he couldn’t grasp what. He hated her mentioning the proposal, but he couldn’t figure out why. However, right now he didn’t care about Peale House, the factory or revenge. All he cared about was how close Amera was to him and that it wasn’t close enough. He pulled her into the circle of his arms and covered her mouth with his.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he whispered against her lips, but he couldn’t stop himself, falling victim to his deep, primitive need. He hungrily reveled in the sweet taste of her mouth, moving quickly, fearful that she’d suddenly pull away. He groaned when he felt her arms circle his neck, pressing her body close to his, the pressure in his trousers building. He moved his mouth to the curve of her neck.

“This is why you don’t watch me dress,” she teased.

He laughed. “I’ll try to remember next time.” He pushed the clothes off the bed.

“We haven’t eaten.”

“So what?” he said, leading her over to the bed.

“But--”

“But what?” he asked taking off his shirt, but paused before taking off his trousers when he saw the look of hesitation on her face. He thought she felt the unexpected attraction as much as he did. Was he wrong? Had she kissed him back out of pity? Was sleeping with him going too far? He gritted his teeth, tapping down a feeling of anger and frustration. He wanted her, but he wouldn’t force her. He had to get out because he if touched her again he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. He zipped up his trousers and turned.

She grabbed his arm. “Wait.”

He spun around. “If you’ve never been afraid of me before, you should be afraid of me now,” he said with a soft warning.

“We’re not ready to have children yet.”

“What?”

She cleared her throat. “I should know, but I don’t know where you keep them.”

“What the hell are you talking about? Be specific.”

“You always use condoms.”

He inwardly swore. She was right. He always did, he couldn’t afford to make a mistake like that, he’d completely lost his mind. He’d never been with a woman without thinking of protection. Especially protection against a paternity suit, but for one wild moment that thought hadn’t even entered his mind. And she could have taken advantage of him. If she’d had his child she would be set for life. At that moment, his respect for her solidified into complete admiration. “You’re right,” he said going over to the side table. He always kept condoms there in the guestroom. He never let ladies into his master bedroom. “I may have forgotten that, but at least I remembered that I always keep them here because you hate being in my room.”

“Oh right,” Amera said clearly relieved that he’d overlooked her ignorance. She lowered her gaze and unzipped her skirt.

Curtis suppressed a smile. “Anything else I should remember?”

“Um, I don’t think so,” she said pulling off her stockings.

For a second Curtis imagined her wearing a crotch-less pair, and thought of how much fun that would be. He shook his head, snapping himself out of the fantasy, he’d think of that another time. He lowered his body over hers, and explored her thighs and her breasts, fondling her nipples with his hands and then his tongue. He had to time it right, he couldn’t move too fast because he didn’t want to scare her, but he couldn’t move too slowly because that would kill him. He entered her with deliberate mastery, but the moment still shocked them both. She gasped, he groaned then squeezed his eyes shut and swore.

Could he be her first? Why would she wait for someone like him? No, maybe he wasn’t. Some woman stayed tight. Damn, he couldn’t even ask her. But the moment he looked into her eyes he knew. She’d never been with another man and she’d chosen him. This wasn’t an accident, but a decision. He felt as if something inside him had splintered and shattered. As if a glass wall that had separated him from everyone else had been broken, magnifying his feelings, making him crave her touch even more. Increasing his desire to please her.

At first he moved gingerly and with care, knowing there were no words he could say to her to help them both save face. Her movements were awkward at first, then she began to relax and follow his lead. He used his body to speak and she responded, arching her body into his, her legs wrapping around him, drawing him in deeper.

He hadn’t planned on this being part of the deception. Everything he felt was real, alarmingly so. He’d never known the strength of such emotion and he didn’t know how to detain it, or keep it at bay. With every touch and caress, he surrendered, his inner battle growing more intense as his passion grew.
I will keep you safe
, he silently vowed. He would unlock the mystery of his mind and figure out what the danger was.

Curtis gazed down at his wife, for at that moment he decided that’s what she would be, and he saw his equal.
Marry me
, he wanted to say, but couldn’t. There were still too many questions. What if she didn’t want to bond with him for life? Unlike Crystal, he couldn’t face that rejection and that made him feel ashamed because a Bishop didn’t care. He was never supposed to care.

He glanced down and saw a red drop fall on her chest. He sniffed then rubbed his nose, he looked at the blood on his hand and swore.

“What’s wrong?” Amera asked.

He sat up with self-loathing. “Nothing.”

She grabbed his arm, with surprising strength, before he could turn away, and in a very low, calm voice said, “It’s okay. Stay still.” However, it wasn’t the same calm voice she usually used with him after an episode. It wasn’t cold and dismissive. There was a deeper, more tender undertone or did he just imagine it that way? She handed him some tissues, then wiped her chest. “Don’t worry. It’s happened before.”

She was lying to him and she looked at him without judgment, igniting a pain in his heart that gripped him then disappeared. Did that mean she truly cared about him too? That with time he could persuade her to stay with him? To make this farce a reality? For the first time Curtis didn’t care how pathetic his hope made him seem or what his father would say. He was alone with her and would savor the moment.

“It’s stopped now.” She threw her tissue away. “But you should rest.”

He didn’t want her to see him as weak. He wanted to tell her that it wouldn’t happen again because he wasn’t ashamed of his feelings. But he didn’t have the words. He didn’t know the language of emotion. How to express himself that way. So he decided to change the subject. He gently ran his hand over her scar. “What’s this?” he asked, then remembered he should know the answer. “I mean I’ve never asked how you got this scar.”

“It’s one of the reasons I was never adopted.”

“You were an orphan? I know I should remember but my mind is still fuzzy.” All these years and he knew so little about her.

She nodded. “I grew up in an orphanage.” She told him about her life growing up in two orphanages and shared that as a child, she had had an unfortunate accident, when she and another child were playing with a ball, and she ran into one of the kitchen staff and hot oil got spilled on her chest.

“How did Bill save your life?”

“There was a clinic run by Doctors Without Borders where I was taken. The wound became infected. I don’t remember much, but I do remember he was the doctor who treated me. He was so kind to me during my hospital stay and even visited me at the orphanage.” She looked away and for a moment he thought he saw the glistening of tears but when she looked at him again, they were gone. “I always wanted to be adopted. First I wasn't cute enough and then I was too old. Fortunately, I was bright.”