Neighbors and More (High Rise Series) (3 page)

 “There’s something you should know. Greg told me…” She
hesitated, folding her hands and entwining her fingers.

“Why all this nervousness? Damn it. He upset you again.
Maybe I should have a talk with him.”  

Her breathing labored, she clasped his shoulder. “It’s not
about Greg this time. It’s Steve.”

Merda
. Dante straightened and loomed above her,
gritting his teeth. “Steve Bairey? Is he bugging you?”

“Yes. I mean no. I mean...”

She looked so fragile in her shorts, her generous breasts
exposed to his admiring gaze. Golden brown hair mussed around a face stricken
with angst and tumbled in waves upon her shoulders.

A need to protect her replaced his initial lust. “That
womanizer has a sick mind. I’ll kill the bastard.”

“Oh God, too many wishes are coming true today,” she mumbled.

“Pardon?”

“Steve is dead.”

“Oh.” Silence fell between them as he digested her words. “When?
How?”

Her huge eyes simmered with apprehension. “He drowned in the
Jacuzzi
this afternoon.”

“It must have been a shock to you.” His professional mind of
criminal lawyer on alert, Dante mentally listed a dozen questions to ask. But now
was the wrong time.

“He planned to leave the next day to settle in Atlanta. Permanently.
He came to say goodbye. An hour before he died,” she added with a shiver.

“He was here? In your apartment?”

She nodded. “Greg just informed me that a detective will
interview us at 8:00 pm.”

“I see.” No wonder Steve’s death had affected her so much.
“Listen, let’s take a walk. The beach is gorgeous at sunset.” Leaving her
apartment and breathing fresh air would help her unwind. “We’ll talk while we
walk.”

He didn’t like it that Steve had been in her apartment. It
would probably attract a lot of negative attention to her, and to him, if he
remained at her side. But he wouldn’t abandon her now, when he’d just returned
to her after his long absence. Maybe he should avoid his grandmother’s house
until things settled here.

“Sure. I’ll wear something more presentable, just in case I
don’t have time to change before the detective arrives.” She opened her
dressing closet.

He scowled at two large suitcases. “Going somewhere?”

Stopping in her tracks, she stared at the luggage and slowly
turned toward him, a lock of curly hair falling over her face. “I was planning
to leave tomorrow.”

“Leave as in vacation?” He arched his eyebrows, waiting for
more.

Tossing her hair back, she exhaled and yanked a printed
blouse from the rack of clothes. “No, as in going away. Alone. Far from Greg,
Steve, and this building. To ponder my life. And start on my own.”

“Is it that bad?” He focused on her tired expression and
noticed the mauve shadows under her eyes, hardly concealed by her makeup.

A bitter grimace twitched her mouth as she averted her gaze.
“Worse than you can imagine. I’m suffocating in this apartment.”

“The epitome of luxury and good taste.” He studied the sad
crinkling of her lips.

“A golden prison.”

“You’ve been divorced for three years. Why do you let Greg
manipulate you like that?”

“I’ve learned to respect
Uncle
Greg, my dad’s
partner, since I was five years old. After my dad’s death, Greg immediately
took care of me and handled their financial company on his own, but he took the
trouble to explain things to me.” She grabbed matching brown capris and said.
“Hold on a moment, Dante. Let me get dressed.”

In less than three minutes, she dressed more decently than
he’d ever seen her, as if covering herself would shield her from further grief.
Where was her sexy bikini bra or see-through shirt? But Dante truly wanted her
and would wait for her.

“When did you marry him?”

“Four months after my father’s death. When Dad suffered a
massive heart attack, I wasn’t even eighteen. It was Dad’s deathbed wish—his
order—that I should marry his trusted friend, a widower at the time.”

Dante frowned. “Your mother didn’t protest this unfair
order?”

Her smile faded, and she averted her eyes. “I don’t have a mother.”

“Oh I’m sorry.” A framed photo of her father adorned the
desk in her office, but he hadn’t seen any pictures of her mother around the
apartment. Strange, Alexa was a sweet girl, the type who’d show reverence to
her parents. Heck, she’d been loyal enough to her old egocentric ex-husband.
Considering her closed expression, he didn’t quiz her about her mother.

“Still, he’s so much older than you.” It sounded like her
father had been a selfish bastard, more concerned with the interests of his
company than his daughter’s happiness.

“Greg was handsome, powerful, respected. He pampered me, insisted
we keep living in my Dad’s condo, and asked me to redecorate it on my own. He
showered me with gifts and jewelry. We traveled and cruised. I bought designer
clothes.”

“He bought himself a gorgeous trophy bride.” One with a
lovely face, a figure to damn a saint, and generous breasts to wake up a dead
body, especially when they bounced enticingly as they did when she suddenly
spun to face him.

 “Call it what you want.” She snorted. “But Greg insisted I
finish my college and graduate studies.” She lifted her chin proudly and gave
him a one-sided smile. “I have a Master’s Degree in Interior Design. Of course,
I never used it, except to decorate my own place.” Her gaze scanned the off-white
furniture, hand painted bedstead, and gilded mirror adorning the wall. “I lived
well. Carefree. Happy in a selfish way. Until I realized the emptiness of my
life. I wanted a real family. A husband and children to love. And not only
material things.” She played with the ring on her right hand, a priceless ruby
embedded in a large gold setting sparkling with baguette diamonds.

Greg had good taste. How did he let go of his expensive
babe? “He gave you a divorce without any problem?”

“Are you kidding? He protested a lot at the beginning.” She
raised her eyebrows, and he almost laughed at her wily grin. “But I threatened
to expose the affairs he thought he’d hidden carefully. Anyway, he was as
generous in the divorce as he’d been during our marriage. He insisted I should live
in this apartment and keep everything he gave me. He’d continue to protect me,
as he said.” She shrugged with a scoff. “To own me is more correct.” A shiver
shook her. “I have to go away. Start a new life on my own.”

Maybe Dante could show her she didn’t have to leave town in
order to get rid of her tyrannical former husband. Maybe he could help her be
independent here in Fort Lauderdale. With him at her side.

Except that right now, he had more pressing commitments. He
had to make sure his
nonna
and sister were safe. But to lose Alexa, as
soon as he’d returned...

He exhaled his frustration. “I don’t think you can go away
tomorrow.”

****

Avoiding the pool area, they strolled through the garage and
the terrace overlooking the beach. Alexa toed off her sandals, rolled her pants
up to her knees, and plowed through the moist sand.

Holding her hand, Dante smiled at her, his touch and gaze
warming her chilled heart. “Did you hear anything about the cause of Steve’s
death?”

She was glad he asked. Maybe if she talked to him—got her
doubts off her chest—she’d be able to sleep tonight. Dante was a successful
criminal lawyer and the only man she trusted.

“Greg said the Medical Examiner would have an autopsy as
soon as possible.”

Dante nodded. “Obviously. Because Steve Bairey died suddenly,
and in a public area.”

“Do you think his coming to my apartment had anything to do
with his death?” She chewed on her bottom lip, cursing herself for letting Steve
in. The last thing she needed was to see her name trashed by gossip and the
events preceding the tragedy detailed in the newspapers. Julia would skin her
alive. She’d already spat accusations so many times. As if Alexa was
responsible for Steve’s philandering. “Do you think planning to leave town caused
him undue stress?”

“Relax. You had nothing to do with his death. Don’t feel
guilty, just because he visited for…” He paused and frowned. “How long did he
stay in your place?”

“Less than half an hour.”

“A healthy man doesn’t develop heart attack symptoms in half
an hour.” His breathtaking smile reassured her more than words. “But you are
going to give yourself an ulcer if you keep torturing yourself.”

“Thanks. I’ll try not to think about it until the detective
shows up.”

“The police will probably run an investigation. It’s
customary procedure. If you want, I’ll be at your side as your lawyer.”

“I hope I don’t need a lawyer. But just in case, I’d love you
to stay when the detective questions me.” Trying to smile, she tilted her head
and ended up sighing. “I trust you.”

Propelling her against his chest, he held her tightly. Her tumultuous
heartbeat echoed against his. Gliding her hands over his pecs, she raked her
fingers through the dark curls. Corded muscles pulled the bronze tanned skin of
his chest, and lower, hardness pressed against her belly, triggering an
insatiable hunger in her stomach. She cushioned her head against the hollow of
his neck.
Oh Dante, if only you could hold me forever
.

A wistful dream. It was the wrong time to indulge in
self-pity when she’d striven to be a strong person ever since she’d stunned
Greg with her request for divorce. The only right decision she’d ever made.

She raised her head from Dante’s shoulder and surveyed the
expanse of sand. Dusk already shrouded the ocean and people had deserted the beach
for dinner.

Touching her chin with his finger, Dante tilted her head
toward him. “Care for a swim?”

“I’d love to but—”

“I guess you’re not wearing a bathing suit. We can swim in
the nude.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, his lips parting in a wide
grin.

She chuckled. “Actually I’m wearing a bikini under my
clothes.”

“My tough luck.” He burst out laughing. Before she could
answer, he yanked his shirt off, and then peeled her blouse over her head. “Let’s
go.”

Energized by his enthusiasm, she wriggled out of her capris,
rolled them, and folded her blouse. He snatched them out of her hands and strode
to the dry sand to drop them in a heap. She’d always been too neat, too
organized, the way her father and then Greg expected her to be.

So what if her clothes got sandy? So what if she gave in to
her desire of being in Dante’s arms?

“Come on. You’re wasting time.”

“Wasting time? It’s not as if we have anything important to
do.” She sank her bare feet into the sand.

 “Sure we do.” A wicked smile brightened his face as he
tugged at her hand. “Wanna know what we’re going to do in the ocean?”

“Oh.” Her heart sang. “Anything exciting?” She was more than
ready to share what he had in mind.

Chapter Three

Dante held Alexa’s hand as they sauntered into the ocean and
idled. Easing away, she paused, the gentle waves bursting against her thighs.
He turned toward her. And swallowed. Her wet bikini hugged her perfect curves
and didn’t leave much to the imagination. His gaze roamed over the generous
breasts, spilling out of her bra, and lingered on her trim waist. A tiny
diamond sparkled in her belly button, sending a hot surge through his groin. Suppressing
a groan, he spun toward the ocean.

“You go ahead.” She backed up two steps and rubbed her arms,
shivering. “I like to feel the water slowly.”

And I’d like to feel...
He resisted the temptation to
warm her in his arms and share the heat that consumed him. “Come deeper. It’s
the best moment of the day to take a swim.”

At his urging, she glided forward and started swimming. He dove
and kicked the water in a vigorous crawl to cool his overheated mind and body.
When he surfaced again, she was floating on her back, eyes closed, hair drifting
around her face like a copper pillow. The moonlight streamed silver rays on her
lovely figure and highlighted her tanned coloration.

His hand itched to feel every inch of her skin. Giving in to
temptation, he traced her mouth with the pad of his thumb. Her eyelids
fluttered, then opened. The rise and fall of her breasts accelerated, beckoning
to him. His body thrummed with arousal, but he couldn’t rush her now that he’d
uncovered the depth of her vulnerability. Even if it killed him, he’d be
willing to just hold her, to make her feel safe in his arms.

Filled with good intentions, he ushered her to a shallower
area where they could both stand. Without a word, he pulled her against him and
kept her embraced, while willing his cock to behave and relax.

Entwining her fingers behind his neck, she tilted her head
and kissed his cheek. Her sensual, full lips licked his, nipping at his lower
one. He remained still, letting her have her way, and praying for control.

Snatching her mouth away, she pouted. “What’s wrong?”
Confusion flitted across her face. “Are you afraid someone might see us? It’s
rather dark now,” she said, waving at the mirrored surface of the water.

“It’s not that. I don’t want to rush…”

“Rush? You’ve been gone for two months and for the last
hour…”

His gaze swept over her face. To hell with good intentions
and restraint. Alexa wanted passion, not compassion.

He lowered his mouth and captured hers, plundering, tasting,
savoring, and she returned his kiss with eagerness. While his tongue played and
swirled around hers, his hand reached down and cupped her bottom, molding her
to him. She leaned on his shoulders, raised her legs up to encircle his back…
and tumbled them both into the surf.

They instantly disentangled and emerged, laughing and
sputtering. “I don’t want to drown you,” he said.