03_Cornered Coyote (13 page)

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Authors: Dianne Harman

BOOK: 03_Cornered Coyote
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Just as he knew she would, Darya put her hand up to the gold necklace. He smiled inwardly.

“True. I’m getting’ hungry. Ya’ bout ready to go?”

“Yes. I’ll call Dave.”

“Forget it. It’s Christmas Eve. Let him have a little time with his family. Guy needs a break from drivin’ your sweet ass all over town.”

“I wish you’d never refer to my ass again. Last time you said it, you implied it wasn’t big time. What makes you think my ass is sweet?”

“Some things you jes’ know Doll, and that’s one I’d bet the farm on.”

“Well, I’ll take it as a compliment.”

“Meant as one. Let’s go. I’ll come back later for the champagne. Give me a chance to drink another glass of it here with ya’.”

“You’re welcome to leave your Christmas present here, but I’m not taking mine off. I love it.”

CHAPTER 22

 

Slade made a U-turn as he pulled away from her office building. “Changed my mind, Doll. Okay with ya’ if we go to my place and I fix y’ dinner? Plus, may be the only chance I’ll ever get ya’ alone at my place,” he said leering.

“Slade, you don’t scare me. Yes, I’d like to see where you live.”

“Okay, Doll, but get ready for a shock.”

What have I done? He probably lives in some tenement walk-up apartment and Christmas Eve dinner will be a frozen TV dinner. I should have my head examined for agreeing to this, but I have to say he’s got excellent taste when it comes to jewelry. That angel is beautiful and I’m sure it was terribly expensive. I feel guilty. He probably spent a month’s pay on it.

Slade turned his nondescript grey sedan north on Pacific Coast Highway. After a few miles, he turned right and drove up a steep hill to the guard gate of an expensive condominium complex. He put his key card in the machine and went through the sign marked “Owners.” A few turns later, he buzzed opened the garage door and drove his car in, closing it before they’d gotten out of the car. Darya couldn’t help but notice the Porsche Spyder parked to the right. He walked around the car and opened the door for her.

“This is a beautiful area, Slade. As you know, I live just a couple of miles from here. You never told me we’re practically neighbors.”

“Brad’s ‘bout the only one who knows and only because he has to come here from time to time,” he said, unlocking the door leading from the garage into his home and at the same time throwing the switch to de-activate the security system.

Darya took a few steps into the condominium, stopped suddenly, and looked around, awestruck.
My eyes have got to be deceiving me. This is one of the most beautiful homes I’ve ever seen.
Slade’s home
was decorated in soft tones of beige and brown with vivid white and orange accents. She’d always been interested in art and thought she recognized paintings by two of Mexico’s most famous artists, Diego Rivera and Rufino Tamayo.

A lighted art glass collection was displayed along one wall, protected by floor-to-ceiling enclosed bookcases. She identified the Daum and Gallé pieces and the others looked to be equally as good. The floor plan of the great room was open with the kitchen on one end and a huge fireplace on the other. Everywhere she looked there were blooming plants.

Sliding glass doors opened onto a patio that was large enough to be another room with mounds of brightly colored geraniums in terra cotta pots. Darya looked down at the car lights slowly snaking along in a line on Pacific Coast Highway. In the distance, she could make out the lights of ships on the ocean. It was a magnificent sight and a far cry from the tenement apartment she’d pictured in her mind.

“Doll, how ‘bout a glass of wine? Got some over there in that rack behind the bar. Take a look-see and tell me what looks good to ya’. Thought I’d fix us some steaks, baked potatoes, and a salad. Okay by you?”

“Sounds great. Slade, these wines are incredible. I don’t know much about wine, but any collection that has a reserve Cakebread in it has to be good.” She took a deep breath. “Slade, when I showed you pictures of the young Afghan girls, you had no trace of street slang. Your English was perfect. I know you have a law degree and a master’s degree in criminology. Would you trust me enough to drop the street jive and just be yourself? Nothing in your home matches the man who talks like you do. And Slade, you can start by calling me Darya, not Doll.”

“All right, Darya. I can do that. As a matter of fact, I’d prefer it. After I put the potatoes in the oven, we can take our wine out on the patio. There’s a space heater out there and the view is quite beautiful, plus it’s really peaceful. Who knows, we might even see Santa and his reindeer!”

They were quiet for a few minutes as they sat on the patio sipping wine. Both of them knew they were at a turning point in their relationship.

Darya began, “Slade, you know almost everything about me and I know nothing about you. If you’re willing to share it with me, I’d like to know about your past. How did you get to where you are?”

“It’s not a pretty story. My roots are in the ghetto. My dad died in prison when I was seven. I learned later that after he died my mother became a prostitute. She used that money to feed me. Unfortunately her pimp got her hooked on heroin and she overdosed when I was eight years old. I didn’t have any relatives and I was placed in an orphanage.

“Turns out my uncle is the head of the Chicago Mafia and also oversees the Los Angeles Mafia. He goes by the name of Papa Romano. My parents came out to California from Chicago to get a new start. Didn’t happen. One day my uncle was in LA and visited me at the orphanage. I’d only met Papa once before. He and my mother had a falling out and we left Chicago the next day. My uncle wouldn’t adopt me because my mother had hated the Mafia so much, but he was responsible for educating me. I was able to go to college and law school.

“I’ve wondered about your education. And when I saw the car in your garage and the art in your home, I wondered even more.”

“By the time I was ready to graduate from high school, most of my old friends were dead or hooked on drugs. If it hadn’t been for my uncle, there’s no doubt I’d be dead or an addict, too. He had one of his men keep an eye on me. I worked part-time at a pizza place. It was actually owned by my uncle.”

“Slade, I had no idea. If this is too painful, you don’t need to go on.”

“No, it’s probably good for me to talk about it. I’m not sure I’ve ever discussed it with anyone. Anyway, college was easy for me. I don’t know why, but things just seemed to come to me.

“When I started going to college, I decided not to go back to the ghetto anymore. I didn’t want my college friends to know where I’d come from, so I kind of disappeared from their lives, but the street smarts and talk stayed with me. I can still blend back into that life when it’s required. Plus, people tend to say a lot more when they think someone’s not too bright and talks that way! Anyway, I got married toward the end of college. She was a wonderful young woman, but something went wrong, and she and our baby died in childbirth.”

“Oh, Slade, how awful. I’m so sorry. You must have felt so lonely. That is so sad.”

“Yes, it wasn’t an easy time for me. I went on to get the degrees and started my business as a private investigator. I made a few bad choices in women after that. I wouldn’t let them get close to me because I was afraid of being hurt again, so I ended up marrying and divorcing two of them. Looking back, they weren’t the types who would know how to get close to anyone. It was as much my fault as theirs. One of the reasons I bought this condominium was because I loved to look at all the women on the beach in their tiny show-all bikinis. It doesn’t interest me much now. More and more I come home and read.”

“I’ve noticed you have walls of bookshelves and they’re all filled. It looks like you’re going to need more space shortly.”

“I know. I’ve gotten tired of the late nights, the cheap girls, and the requisite hangovers. I think I’m ready to move on to the next phase of my life. Well, I’ve talked enough about myself. Let’s eat.”

He went in the house and put some soft jazz on the CD player. “Will you fix the salad while I grill the steaks?”

“Of course.” She was having a hard time equating the man she’d been talking to for the last hour with the man she’d known the last few years. She wondered if her parents would accept him.

Slade lit some candles and brought the steaks in from the patio. “If I’d known we’d be spending Christmas Eve here, I would have decorated a Christmas tree for you.”

“I appreciate the thought, but I don’t need one. Thank you for inviting me here. I’m thoroughly enjoying myself.”

After they finished eating she told him to stay seated as she began clearing the table. She rinsed off the dishes and turned around, intending to put the butter and sour cream back in the refrigerator. She didn’t realize Slade was standing behind her and when she turned, she tripped. He put his hands on her arms to steady her. Darya looked up at him. For a moment neither one of them moved, then Slade lowered his head and gently kissed her. She returned the kiss and opened her mouth, pulling him in. She could feel his tongue probing her mouth and she felt his erection against her. She couldn’t stop herself. Her hands moved up his chest, encircled his neck and pulled him closer to her. He pulled his head back and looked at her.

“Darya, I don’t want to stop, and if we continue, I won’t be able to stop. Jesus, Darya, you drive me crazy.”

“Slade, I want you just as much. I didn’t realize it until now, but you’re the only man I’ve ever felt comfortable with in my life,” she said in a ragged voice. “Yes, please take me.”

He took her trembling hand and led her up the stairs to his large bedroom. She walked over to the glass windows and stood, looking out at the ocean. He lit a gas log fire in the fireplace and stepped behind her, wrapping his arms around her. She could feel his body heat and hear the soft jazz coming from downstairs. They stood for a moment looking out the window, anticipating, but both hesitant to take the next step.

Slade slowly began to caress her breasts and unbuttoned her blouse. He freed her breasts from her bra, gently rubbing his thumb and finger over her nipples as he kissed the back of her neck. She pressed into him and slowly began grinding into his hardness. His breathing became raspy. He unzipped her skirt and it fell to the floor. She wriggled out of her blouse and bra, leaving her with only a lacy thong on. He slipped his hand under it and began to caress her silken mound. She was wet with desire. He made little circles around her clitoris, putting his finger on it and stroking it faster and faster. She tensed, cried out his name, and then became limp in his arms.

He supported her until she could stand again. She turned around and kissed him deeply as she unbuttoned his shirt, running her fingers through his soft dark mass of chest hair. Her other hand undid his belt buckle and unzipped his pants, freeing his fully erect penis. She dropped to her knees and lazily encircled his penis with her tongue, running it up and down the shaft. Darya took his penis into in her warm mouth and slowly began to suck on it. He pulled her up. “No more. I don’t want to waste it.”

Slade backed up to the bed pulling her on top of him. He continued to caress her. She moved her body up and down his penis until neither of them could stand it. “Roll over, for God’s sake, Darya, roll over.” He ripped the thong off and thrust himself into her. She raised her hips and met him, stroke for stroke, both of them exploding at the same time. For a while they simply lay there, panting. “I’ve got to get off of you. I’ll crush you,” he said, rolling over and pulling her to him. “Darya, please stay tonight. I can’t think of a better Christmas present than waking up next to you.”

“If you’re real good, instead of coal in your stocking, you might get me. Yes, I’d love to wake up next to you, too. And who knows what might happen in the middle of the night,” she said, laughing. “Slade, one of us should go downstairs and blow out the candles. Plus, my bodyguard will be waiting for me.”

“I’ll do it,” he said. “It’s probably not healthy, but I do a security check every night. With you here, there’s even more reason to do it. Don’t move. I’ll be right back and I’ll take care of calling Scott and telling him you won’t be home tonight.”

If anyone had told me this morning I’d be here tonight, I wouldn’t have believed them. I hope he’s as pleased with me as I am with him.
I know this can never go anywhere, but I’m going to enjoy the rest of the night. A Christmas present from me to me.

She fingered the angel at her throat and knew that every time she’d look at it, she’d smile remembering the special present he’d given her on Christmas Eve. Well, actually there were two presents he’d given her, and both of them were spectacular.

CHAPTER 23

 

Jordan rolled over and looked at his nightstand clock. He groaned, only ten minutes had gone by since the last time he’d looked at it.

This is definitely not the way I planned on spending our first Christmas together – visiting Maria at the Riverside County Jail. At least on Christmas they’re extending the visiting hours. Plus, I’ve got to make the obligatory Christmas calls to mom and dad. Hate to tell them all that’s going on in my life and ruin their Christmas, but sooner or later they’re going to find out. Wish I’d told them earlier. I just hoped the whole damn thing would just go away. This may go down as the worst Christmas ever.

An hour later, he made a pot of coffee, looked at his watch, and decided to get the calls to his parents over with. It was almost 9:30 on the East Coast.

“Hi dad. Just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas.” He paused as he listened to his father. “What do I have going on today? Well, I’ve been meaning to tell you, but I’ve really been busy.”

“Yes, Jordan. I heard about the Police Commission. They contacted me for a statement. Was there something else you wanted to tell me?”

“You knew and never said anything? Thanks. Dad, I don’t quite know how to go about telling you what else is going on.” He took a deep breath and then told his father everything that had happened from the time he’d gone to Provence up to this morning. “She’s not guilty, dad. There’s some reporter who has it in for both of us. I’m pretty sure the DA felt he had to charge her or risk losing his re-election. I think she’ll be acquitted. You’ll like her. She’s a wonderful, loving person.”

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