Beyond the Velvet Rope (37 page)

Elliot had the driver drop them off at a busy intersection that pushed up along the beach and a number of restaurants. He gave the driver a generous amount of Cuban pesos, then Elliot took Thandie’s hand, and led her into the busy streets of Havana. Beautiful gothic cathedrals shared the same block as graffitied ruins. Nightclubs oozed jazzy Latin music and shouts of laughter.

Thandie got another shock when several of the shop owners called out Elliot’s name and waved to him with wide smiles.

“Do they know you?” she asked when he returned their greetings.

“Yes, they know me rather well,” he said with a laugh. “But mostly, they remember my father. He was from the neighborhood.”

“How often do you come here?”

He thought for a moment. “At least once or twice a month, if I can manage it.”

The streets were crowded with people coming and going, basking in the rhythm of Havana’s nightlife. Elliot and Thandie walked the congested sidewalks, wandering in and out of the many clubs and bistros. Street musicians played their guitars and bongos, encouraging couples to dance for them. Included in the rustle of music and voices was the constant sound of cars bustling by and the crush of ocean waves crashing against the shore.

Eventually, Elliot steered them toward the beach. Walking hand-in-hand along the sidewalk, with the ocean on their left, they both felt light. Elliot filled the time by telling her about all the times his parents had brought him here when he was a child and pointing out storefronts he remembered.

He was mid sentence when he stopped and jerked his head back. Thandie turned to see what had caught his attention. A peddler had stationed his cart a few steps ahead of them. A variety of trinkets hung from the wagon: seashell necklaces, wooden toy cars, airplanes made out of recycled soda cans. Elliot stepped forward and peered down at a something small resting on a makeshift shelf. Thandie stepped closer to see it was a small circular object made of wood. Carved into the surface were the words
Industriales Havana
.

Elliot reached out to hold the object in his hand. He flipped it over in his palm and a diamond shaped emblem with a lion etched across it came into view,
Leones Azules
. An odd expression shadowed Elliot’s face.

“What is it?” Thandie asked.

“It’s a yo-yo,” he said in a tight voice. Pulling a string Thandie hadn’t noticed at first, he slipped his finger into the small loop, and dropped the wooden yo-yo. It rolled down the length of the string before snapping back into his palm, as if summoned by magic. He pointed to the carved emblem. “It’s the
Industriales
symbol, a local baseball team.” He palmed the toy in his hand thoughtfully. “I used to have one of these,” he said. “It was a cheap little thing. Something your parents give you to keep you occupied.” He squeezed the toy in his hand. “My father bought it for me when I was...six years old I believe.”

“What happened to it?” she asked softly.

He shook his head. “I can’t remember. I lost it.”

“Do you want to get that one?”

Elliot abruptly shook his head and placed the yo-yo back on the chart’s shelf with a loud smack. The old man working the cart, looked up in surprise. Elliot muttered an apology, fished out a crisp dollar bill from his wallet and pushed it into the man’s hand. Without even looking back, he walked off. Thandie was left to stare after him. Giving the old man an apologetic smile, she chased after Elliot.

Yanking his arm, she turned him around. “What was that all about?”

He glowered back at the cart, as if it had done something to offend him. And then, without warning, he pulled Thandie to him and crushed her lips beneath his own. His mouth was hot and demanding, giving her no choice but to melt under the passion. With his hands stroking wide circles against her back, Thandie soon forgot the explanation she’d been demanding.

It was Elliot who eventually pulled away. His eyes were cloudy with passion, but a smile tugged at his mouth. “I need you,” he said roughly. Without another word, he guided her across the street, waving his hand to a man who lounged against his car.

It was the same driver who’d driven them from the airport. Elliot had somehow maneuvered their wanderings into a large circle, resulting in them ending up not far from where they started. He must have paid the man to wait for them.

It wasn’t until Thandie was settled into the backseat did she begin to feel a dull ache in her feet. Leaning into Elliot’s side, she listened to him and the driver chat. Again, she marveled at the sound of his voice. Low, distinct and controlled.

She must have dozed off, because the next thing she knew, Elliot was nudging her awake. She blinked sleepily at him and then looked around. The car was parked in front of a luxurious colonial-style villa in a rather desirable neighborhood.

Lights reflected off the white exterior, making the building appear taller than it actually was. It glowed in the darkness, emphasizing slender columns and numerous terraces.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“Detrás de la Fachada,”
he said. “It literally means, ‘behind the facade.’” Handing the driver a tip, Elliot slid out of the car before turning to help Thandie. “It is also my home.”

“You live here?” she asked, inclining her head to the house.

In answer, he only smiled. Just as they were walking up to the gate that secured the perimeter of the grounds, the front door of the home opened. A native man came out. He smiled brightly at Elliot as he unlocked the gate for them. He and Elliot exchanged words before the man disappeared around a corner of the house. Ushering Thandie inside the house, Elliot locked the door behind him.

“Who was that?” Thandie asked, feeling like a broken record.

“Manuel,” he said. “He and his wife are caretakers for the house.”

“Do they live here?”

“Yes, in a small house at the rear of the property.” Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he studied the screen, making a peculiar expression as he read whatever had caught his attention. “Make yourself at home,” he said, still looking at the phone’s display. “I need to return a call.”

As Elliot drifted into another room, Thandie went on a tour. She floated from one room to another, marveling at the architecture and stylish decor. At the end of her careful exploration, she’d confirmed the villa boasted a small garden, terraces overlooking the sea, a living room, four bedrooms, three bathrooms and a large American-style kitchen.

“Does it pass inspection?”

Thandie jumped at the sound of Elliot’s voice. He’d sneaked up behind her while she’d been looking out a window in what she assumed to be the master bedroom. Turning to look at him, she said, “I can’t help but notice this villa looks brand new. How old is it?”

“It’s just over five years old.” He came to her, stopping when he was only a foot away. “What sat here before then was basically ruins.”

“And you own this house?”

“Consider it my inheritance.” He brushed the back of his hand against her cheek, and said in a low whisper, “No more questions.”

Slowly, he reached for the clasps at the back of her neck. Thandie stood still while Elliot helped her out of her dress before stripping out of his own clothes. At his prompting, they showered together. And when they were done, Elliot dried them both off before leading her to the massive bed. She slid beneath him, opening her legs in a silent but desperate invitation. Elliot cradled himself between her thighs, and leaned forward to kiss her deeply, passionately. When he pulled back, they were both gasping for breath. Elliot’s voice was husky when he said, “I intend to make you purr for me tonight, pussycat.”

And then he did just that.

* * *

They slept well into the afternoon. The flight, a night of sightseeing, followed by satisfying sex had taken its toll on them. Elliot was the first to wake, and he made quick work of getting himself together. When he emerged from the bathroom he was dressed in white jeans and polo shirt. Thandie grimaced at how effortless it was for him to look picture perfect. He could have been posing for a Ralph Lauren photo shoot.

Leaving her to rest a little longer, Elliot went to a nearby shop to purchase her some clothes. When he returned, Thandie changed into the cotton dress he presented her with. When she asked about undergarments, he gave her a devilish grin and insisted Cuba did not sell panties.

By the time they finished eating breakfast, prepared by Manuel’s wife, the car had arrived to take them back to the airport. The ride to the airstrip was brief. The jet’s engines were running when their car pulled alongside it on the tarmac. Just as before, the crew welcomed them on board.

Taking his seat, Elliot immediately pulled Thandie into his lap. Five minutes later, they were airborne. As the plane climbed, Elliot held her close, and they watched Cuba disappear behind a veil of clouds. Then Elliot spent most of the flight talking on his cell phone. It had been ringing nonstop since they woke up.

Thandie tucked her face into the crook of his neck while she listened to him juggle one phone call after the next. Every so often, she smiled when she felt his palm stroke her breasts or upper thigh.

The flight back to Miami was over far too soon. Thandie regretted not having more time to see more of Havana, but she was thankful for their time away. She’d seen Elliot in a whole new light. He could be kind and responsive, sweet and caring. She felt something had changed between them during this trip. She was closer to seeing the real Elliot Richards than she had ever been before.

Chapter Twenty-Four

H
e was gone when she woke up.

Thandie knew he would be even before she opened her eyes. There was no bedside note waiting for her, filled with sugary words and passionate promises. He was simply gone.

Thandie felt vaguely hollow inside. However, it was probably for the best he’d left when he did; better for her, at least. She was suffering from charm-overload. She needed a break from the beautiful dresses, private jet and magnificent villa on a tropical island. One more week with that sort of treatment, and she would be completely smitten. Distance was a good thing.

For a long time she lay there, breathing in his scent. It was as heady and tantalizing as the man himself. Thandie tried to keep her emotions in check, but it was difficult. A million questions ran through her head all at once; questions she could not afford to ponder. Where was he? Was he alone? Was he with another woman?

No, she could not go
there
. Not even in the quiet recesses of her mind could she allow herself to fret over those questions. That type of thinking veered too much into the girlfriend category, and one thing Thandie definitely wasn’t was Elliot Richards’s girlfriend.

But did she want to be?

Their conversation from a few nights past came back to her. “I don’t do girlfriends,” he’d said. He’d meant every word. Not that she’d been surprised. Thandie had known Elliot was a ladies’ man from the beginning. She’d entertained no fantasies that she was the only woman in his life, or bed. Their sexual encounters had been a combination of lust and convenience. Half of that scenario would no longer exist when she returned to New York in a few short weeks. So when had the situation changed for her? Was it the trip to Havana? No, it had been before that. But when?

Thandie squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the direction her thoughts were going. She could not let herself journey that dark path. She couldn’t afford it. She would lose something valuable if she stumbled down that road. This was just sex. Plain and simple. It could only be about sex. Hard, satisfying, can-barely-walk-in-the-morning sex.

Thandie threw back the covers and stood up. She was just about to round the bed’s edge when she came to an abrupt halt. She blinked. At the precise spot where she kept stubbing her toe, there was empty space. The bench was not there. Confused, she looked around. There, pushed along the wall, sat the offending piece of furniture. Had Elliot moved it? If so, why?

Refusing to place any importance on such an odd action, Thandie brushed past the spot and quietly tiptoed to the opposite side of the house. As soon as she was in her own room, she began to wash up.

By the time she’d pulled on clothes, there was a loud commotion from down the hall. Len and Raja’s voices continued to rise by the minute. Thandie sighed tiredly. It was hard to imagine the girls could find something to argue about when they’d only been awake for half an hour. Stepping into the hall, Thandie quietly eased down the hall. The last thing she needed today was to be sucked into the fray.

Entering the kitchen, she began rummaging through the cabinets, searching for something appetizing. Grabbing a box of cereal from the pantry, she poured herself a bowl.

She heard the doorbell, and went to answer it. Warren stood on the doorstep, dressed in a suit and wearing his customary smile.

“Hey, kiddo!” he said brightly, giving her a hug as he stepped inside. “You look relaxed.”

“Hi, Warren. What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I promised Len and Raja I’d take them shopping weeks ago.” He shrugged. “They finally called me with a date.”

Thandie nodded her head. This would explain the arguing she’s heard earlier. Waving him toward the kitchen, she said, “You never should have offered.”

“I know,” Warren said with a sigh. He looked around the living areas. “Is Lucinda here?”

“I’m afraid not. It’s just me and the girls.” She wrinkled her brows. “Aren’t you a little overdressed to go on a shopping spree?”

“I had a meeting this morning.”

Normally, Thandie wouldn’t pry, but she could tell from the giddy expression on Warren’s face, he was desperate to say something. “Did it go well?” she asked.

“Great.” He slid onto a stool at the kitchen island. “Better than great... Stupendous.”

Surprised, she asked, “Have things improved with your family?”

He grimaced. “Nothing new on that front I’m afraid.”

“Oh,” she said, a little disappointed for him. Taking another stab at it, she asked, “How are things going with the divorce?”

Warren’s face split into a grin as bright as sunshine. “It’s done,” he said.

“Done?”

“Done,” he said with a nod of his head. “We finally signed the papers. It’s a miracle, Thandie. Wife Number Five has been playing hardball for the longest, and
voilà.
” He snapped his fingers. “Just like that, she became agreeable. She accepted the original deal we offered her.”

“That’s fantastic, Warren.”

“You’re telling me! I guess she has a heart after all. Goodness knows, I never saw it during the time I was married to her.” He grinned. “We signed the documents this morning. Now we wait for the judge to make it official.”

“Wow,” she breathed. “I’m happy for you. Congratulations.”

“I’m a free man,” he boasted. “The ladies of Miami had better look out.”

Thandie sighed heavily. “Warren, have you thought about letting the ink dry on your dicorce papers before you get back out there?”

Warren furrowed his brows at her, as if trying to decode her words. “Why on earth would I want to do that? Life is too short to play it safe.”

Thandie threw up her hands. “All right. Don’t say I didn’t try to be the voice of reason.” Leaning her hip against the counter, she folded her arms across her chest. “So, now that you’re single, what are you going to do next?”

Warren eyes crinkled at the beginnings of a smile. “You wouldn’t happen to have a single and much younger sister, would you?”

Thandie laughed. “You never change, Warren.” A thumping sound came from upstairs. Thandie was reminded the girls had been arguing. “Let me tell the girls you’re here.”

“Wait.” Warren’s hand shot out to stop her. “I wanted to talk to you for a moment.” When Thandie turned to look at him, Warren went mute for a moment. Finally, he said a little too casually, “I see you and Elliot have gotten rather close.”

Thandie wagged her finger at him. “That topic is off limits.”

“I’m sure it is,” he said. “And you know I wouldn’t mention it unless it was important.”

Thandie’s brow shot in the air.

“Okay, okay. I admit I’m nosy,” he confessed. “But this is serious.” He gazed at her with pale watery eyes. “I like Elliot. He’s a very sharp businessman, but he is not boyfriend material, Thandie.”

“Warren—”

“Wait, just hear me out, and then I’ll shut up.” He took a deep breath before rushing on. “He always has an angle. He has a lot of moving pieces, if you know what I mean.” When she was about to cut him off, Warren held up his hand. “Just let me finish. I care about you, Thandie. And as a friend, I’m telling you this because I know you’re not ready for what will come of this affair.” He paused before delicately continuing. “Elliot isn’t a bad guy, Thandie. He’s just not right for you.”

“I know you mean well, Warren—”

“You don’t know him,” he cut in sharply. “You don’t know him at all. I’ve seen a lot, Thandie. Believe me when I say you have no idea what Elliot is about.”

The hard edge in his voice chilled her. Warren was rarely serious about anything. She’d only seen this solemn expression on his face once before—when she’d witnessed him drunk and depressed after meeting with his son. Just as it had been that night, Warren looked his age; weathered and broken. His sincerity was evident. He cared about her, and she loved him for that.

“I appreciate the warning.” Standing up, she leaned forward and kissed the top of his white head. “But you don’t need to worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

Thankfully, Len and Raja chose that moment to come bounding down the stairs. Whatever disagreement they’d had earlier was apparently far behind them now, because they were all smiles when they saw Warren. With the ferocity of one of Florida’s infamous hurricanes, they snatched up Warren and practically pulled him out the front door. He hadn’t stood a chance.

After Warren and the girls had left, Thandie retreated to her room and threw herself across her bed. Warren’s words reverberated in her head. He hadn’t told her anything she hadn’t already known. However, hearing a warning from Warren Radcliffe, the most irresponsible person she knew when it came to relationships, was ominous.

You have no idea what Elliot is about
.

Thandie closed her eyes as the words echoed in her head. Warren was right, of course. Elliot was a mystery to her.

Again, she had to close her mind to the questions that assailed her, and try to think of ways to occupy her time. Without the girls around, she was a bit lost.

Thinking hard, she considered her options. She could go shopping or even squeeze a massage session in. However, the more she considered her choices, the more exhausted she became.

Spying her bikini, she changed into it. It was a beautiful day outside her window, and she could use a little sun. Collecting a towel, she thought she’d lie out by the pool, soak up the sun, and read a few fashion magazines.

Setting herself on one of the lounges, she pulled the latest issue of
Mode
magazine onto her lap.
Mode
was a national syndicate, quickly growing in popularity. Thandie had become addicted to it months earlier.

On its glossy cover was a picture of a beautiful woman wearing a dress that looked to have been painted on. Her tousled ash-brown hair, pouty lips and smoldering eyes gave her a sultry appearance. Beneath the photo, in large bold letters, read “31 Reasons Why We Love Tasha Tate.” Next to the cover model was a subtitle reading “Sebastian Dunhill: Hollywood’s New Heartthrob!”

Thandie flipped through the magazine, humming in agreement when a valid point had been made and folding down pages she wanted to reread. Her mind was racing. If she could get just one of these stars to make a guest appearance at Babylon, she would be immensely pleased. But it would mean little if there were no photos to publicize. She would have to talk to Elliot again, see if she could convince him to allow press into the club at the very least for the final show she was organizing.

Thandie continued to flip through the magazine, reading every article that struck her interest until she was exhausted by the possibilities. They had so much to do. She’d been in Miami for two months now and the amount of work required before her time here was done seemed overwhelming.

Tossing the magazine aside, she rolled onto her stomach and considered her options. She smiled quietly to herself. Yes, if she did this right, the results would be amazing. Visions flashed in her head of things to come. Yes, this could certainly work. She began running through her plans step by step. At some point, she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Thandie awoke to the wondrous feeling of having all her stress washed away. She gave a satisfied purr of contentment and wiggled her bottom in delight. It was not until she felt a familiar warm caress cup her butt that she forced her eyes open.

Sitting on the edge of her lounge, his large hands massaging the backs of her thighs, was Elliot.

“The princess awakes,” he drawled.

Thandie shielded her eyes against the sunlight. “What are you doing here?”

“How many times are you going to keep asking me that question? I live here. Where else would I be?”

“But why are you here?” The question came out much harsher than she’d meant it to.

“Enjoying the sights,” he said with a wink.

Looking down at her cleavage, she placed a protective hand over her breasts.

He gave a wicked grin. “Haven’t we done this before?”

“What do you want, Elliot?”

“What makes you so sure I want something? Maybe I just missed you, pussycat.”

“Sweet words don’t become you.”

His dark brow lifted. “So you say.” Looking out at the endless ocean, a gentle breeze ruffled his hair, making a thick lock fall over his brow. It made him look innocent and touchable. But the image was dashed when he raked his fingers through his hair, forcing the renegade tresses back into place. “I’m having guests over for dinner tonight,” he said. “Afterward, they will be escorted to the club and treated as my personal guests. I would like you to join us.”

“Who are they?”

“Does it really matter?”

“That depends,” she countered.

Elliot stood and gave her one parting smile before coming to his feet and heading back to the house. Shouting over his shoulder, he said, “Dinner will be served at eight. Be ready.”

And just like that, he was gone. Thandie watched him disappear into the shade of the patio. She couldn’t help but marvel at his mysterious nature. How was it he could be both honest and elusive at the same time? She always felt he was being open with her, but there was a dark side to him, a secret he hid. A secret so well-hidden it no longer required effort on his part to conceal it, it just came naturally. She wondered if she would ever know the real Elliot Richards.

* * *

Thandie dressed carefully. She’d not yet had the opportunity to question Elliot again regarding his dinner guests. Were they business partners or friends? Elliot didn’t seem to have many friends. She considered herself an example. They’d slept together often, and yet he was still an enigma.

She could feel the blood rush to her cheeks at the memory of their last time together. When they were alone, he was wonderfully real. She knew exactly what he wanted and when he wanted it. And during the few times she questioned him, he verbalized his desires, explaining how he wished her to move and how it made him feel.

He made her feel...beautiful. Yes, he made her feel sexy. Until now, she’d never really considered herself as such. Sure, she’d worked hard to maintain the body she had, but she’d always considered it a necessity to her job. The way most people considered a car, or a well-cut suit as part of their career attire.