Hard As Ice (Fortis Series 1) (11 page)

Evan felt Nia’s back stiffen.

“Okay,” she replied, stretching out the word to suggest more information would be appreciated.

“We broke up over three years ago, and it’s all good. But I just thought you should know in case someone brings it up,” he added.

She looked at him, perhaps to ask questions, but they were now inside the wide front entrance of the house.

“Evan! You made it,” exclaimed Mrs. Elaine Stone-Clement as she approached them. “It’s so good to see you.”

He hugged the older woman who had always been like a second mom to him. She was glamorous and youthful in her late forties with the warm brown skin of her face still smooth of wrinkles.

“Shame on you for not staying in touch more,” she scolded when they stepped apart. “But you look great. You’re fully recovered, I take it?”

He could feel Nia’s questioning gaze on his face.

“Almost as good as new,” Evan confirmed. “Nia, this is Elaine Stone-Clement, chairman of the Clement Literacy Foundation. Elaine, this is Nia James.”

The two women shook hands and exchanged pleasantries.

“Where is George? I brought him something,” he asked, holding up a generous bottle of Glenfiddich, a forty-year-old scotch.

“Oh, he’s going to kiss you. He’s outside somewhere pretending he’s doing some of the cooking,” Elaine teased. “Leave Nia with me, I’ll get her something to drink.”

Evan glanced down to make sure Nia was okay with that. She smiled back agreeably.

“I’ll be back shortly,” he promised.

“Take your time,” Nia urged, cool as a cucumber.

As Evan walked away, he heard Elaine asking Nia about her drink preference. He knew she was in good hands.

On the way out to the back of the house, he passed several people he had not seen in years, but knew well as part of the Vineyard summer community and through his social network in the D.C. and Virginia area. As suggested, George Clement was in the vicinity of the state-of-the-art outdoor kitchen, but there was a hired chef working behind the grill. The older man was about the same height as Evan, but with a girth that suggested he was less active than in the past and dealing with some stress. Unlike his wife, he looked every bit his fifty years. His curly hair was now fully gray and his coppery skin was creased with frown lines.

“Son!” the older man exclaimed with genuine delight. “Elaine said you might join us this year.”

The two men hugged.

“I brought you something,” Evan announced when they parted.

The founder and chairman of the board of a powerful media conglomerate beamed like a schoolboy. He took the bottle of scotch in both hands, clearly touched by the thoughtfulness.

“Oh, Evan. You’ve outdone yourself. We have to toast a glass later this evening,” insisted George.

“Absolutely.”

“So, how are you doing, son? We haven’t seen you since you came back injured from overseas. How’s the leg healing?” George asked.

“It’s pretty good. Still a little sore at times but nothing too serious.”

“As I live and breathe! Evan DaCosta gracing us with his presence in our humble home?”

Evan grinned, recognizing that saucy tongue anywhere. He turned around to find the petite and very pretty Mikayla Stone-Clement with her hands planted on her slender hips.

“You’re on your own, kid,” chuckled George, and he made a quick escape.

His daughter clearly had a bone to pick with Evan, and the wise man wanted no part of it.

“Hi, Mikayla,” Evan stated, a little sheepishly. He knew exactly what was coming.

“Hi to you, too. You could have just returned my phone calls seven months ago, Evan. No need to come all the way to the Vineyard on my account,” she drawled sarcastically.

“Sorry about that. Things were a little crazy at the time,” he explained, lamely.

“Yeah, I know! You were shot. I get it. That’s why I called,” pressed Mikayla, clearly not ready to let it go. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay, Evan. I was worried about you. Your poor mom was in bits.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I should have called you long before now.”

His acknowledgment seemed to take some of the wind out of her sails. She straightened and stepped close.

“Damn right you should have. But you seem good. Healthy. So I suppose I have to forgive you.”

She opened her arms and they hugged.

“It was just such a shock to find out you got injured in the middle of a conflict somewhere in the Middle East,” Mikayla mused when they parted. “I know DaCosta does work in some high-risk places, but I just never considered that as an executive for the company, you might be in danger.”

“I’m not usually. It was a fluke, really. Wrong place at the wrong time, that’s all,” explained Evan.

His CIA cover identity had always been under the broad reach of DaCosta Solutions as a U.S. defense contractor. Even his mother thought he had spent the last ten years working for the family business, managing their overseas operations. The only person who had known the truth was his father, and only because of his high-level security clearance.

“When you didn’t call me back, I wondered if maybe you were still angry with me,” she added when they stepped apart.

“You know that’s not true,” he insisted. “I was never angry.”

She shrugged.

“Well, I’m glad you’ve recovered well,” she declared. “So, I met your girlfriend. Nia?”

Evan looked down at his ex-fiancée, waiting for the rest of her commentary.

“She’s . . . not really your type, Evan.”

“Really? And why is that?” he replied evenly, though he felt irritated by the suggestion.

Mikayla shrugged again.

“You know what I mean. She’s stunning, really. Sexy. Junior can’t seem to take his eyes off her. But I always thought you preferred women who are more natural, unadorned, that’s all.”

“This might come as a surprise, Mikayla, but you’re not the complete definition of my type. Every red-blooded man is attracted to sexy,” he advised in a cool tone.

Her eyes shot sparks at him.

“That was cruel.”

“Yes it was. And you’re being catty and jealous. Which you really have no right to be. In case you forgot, you broke up with me, three weeks before our wedding day.”

His words were a matter of fact, with no anger or resentment in them. She looked away, but Evan could tell that he had hit home. The two of them had known each other for most of their lives, going from childhood friends to dating before getting engaged. Their relationship had always been based on genuine affection and honesty.

“You’re right, I am jealous. Not because you’re moving on, Evan. Honestly, I want you to be happy more than anything,” she admitted, her eyes still downcast. “But damn it, did you have to choose someone who’s everything I’m not? It’s a little petty, don’t you think?”

Evan smiled, glad the mood had lightened. He always hated fighting with Mikayla.

“Believe it or not, you guys are more alike than you would think,” he stated, realizing at that moment how true the statement was. They were both smart and confident, and with a certain relentless drive that he respected.

“Yeah, well it’s definitely not our cup size, I’ll tell you that,” she quipped, looking down at her very adequate B cups.

“No, it’s not,” confirmed Evan, knowing that Nia’s curves were likely in the generous D range. Then he laughed as Mikayla slapped him on the shoulder. “And I can confirm that Nia is very natural.”

“Now my ego is so bruised that I need a drink,” she declared dramatically. “And you need to find your girlfriend before my brother proposes to her and starts a feud.”

She hooked her elbow into the bend of his and they walked back into the house together.

Nia stood beside a makeshift bar table, sipping her drink and looking around the large, open family room. She nodded politely at strangers, and smiled at the odd passing comment. But her thoughts were elsewhere. They were back in Boston with the drama that had become her life.

The robbery was still unsolved and the jewels still unrecovered. She was still the prime suspect, and time was running out for her to escape this crazy situation.

Nia also thought back to the visit from Nigel at the community center that morning. He had first told Nia about the volunteer music program over four years ago when his niece, Meghan, wanted to learn to play the piano. When they had shared an apartment together for the five years after they had moved to Boston, he would often pick up Meghan after the lessons to take her for ice cream. But this was the first time he’d come by since he had moved to Watertown with Angela.

“How are you doing?” he had asked quietly.

He was average height, a couple of inches taller than her. His thin face appeared casual but his green eyes were intensely serious. Nia had let out a deep breath, unprepared for the discussion.

“Have you heard anything?” she had asked, not wanting to say anything more specific.

“No, not yet. I’ve put out some feelers though,” he had promised. “But the last thing I need is any attention around something like this.”

“I know. I’m sorry to pull you into it, Nigel,” she had insisted.

“Don’t be. Who else are you going to call, right?” he had teased, with a small twist of his lips. “But remember what I said, Nia. Don’t talk to anyone else about this, okay? A job like this was done by professionals. They won’t hesitate to shut people up.”

Nia had swallowed, thinking about Matt Flannigan. She completely understood what was at stake.

“I won’t,” she had promised.

“Keep your head down, and stay out of it. I’ll call you in a couple of days with any info.”

She had nodded before they had parted. Now, her only hope was that Fortis would find some evidence to prove her innocence, or that Nigel would uncover something from their network that would help prove who Matt Flannigan had been working with.

“You don’t have anything to worry about. They finished a long time ago.”

Nia refocused on the party, and glanced over at the young man now standing beside her. Elaine Stone-Clement had introduced him as her son, George Jr., and he seemed to be restocking the drinks table. She looked in the direction he had indicated with his head, to see the two people embracing outside.

“Who?” Nia asked innocently, glancing back at him.

“Evan and my sister. They broke up years ago,” Junior explained. “It was pretty scandalous at the time, only a few weeks before their wedding date. Mom and Dad were so disappointed, so was Evan’s family. But everyone survived.”

Nia smiled politely, digesting the information and trying to figure out what it all meant. Judging by the warm welcome Evan had received, he was still close to the whole family, including his ex. She took another sip of her drink.

George Jr. continued to look at her with obvious interest. He seemed like a decent enough guy. Tall and lean, with a rich red-brown skin tone, he was fairly attractive in an easygoing, frat-boy kind of way. So young.

“So, how long have you known Evan?” he finally asked.

“Not long,” she replied simply. It hardly seemed possible that they had met less than four days ago.

“What do you do, Junior?” countered Nia before he could pry further. Almost everyone preferred to talk about themselves when given the opportunity.

“I just finished law school. So I’m preparing for the bar exam,” he declared.

“Wow, that’s impressive. Have you decided what field?” she asked.

He told her something, but Nia was distracted by Evan and his ex-fiancée walking arm in arm toward them.

“Okay, Junior. Leave poor Nia alone and stop talking her ear off,” Mikayla stated when she and Evan were in hearing distance.

Nia turned to face them with a friendly smile, careful not to show any sign of discomfort over the situation. She had met both the Stone-Clement children when Elaine had introduced them earlier. At the time, Nia had thought the pretty and petite girl seemed genuine and sincere in welcoming her to the event. But now, she couldn’t help questioning if that were really the case.

Evan walked over to Nia and wrapped his arm around the back of her waist, pulling her close so their hips brushed.

“You okay?” he asked attentively.

“Yup. Junior’s been keeping me company,” she replied.

Nia hadn’t intended to play it like that, but the words just came out, sounding very flirtatous. It wasn’t really in her nature to play mind games. She felt rather than saw Evan’s reaction and his hand tightened on her hip.

“Has he,” mumbled Evan in a deep, silky tone.

“Hey, I’m a gentleman like that,” the younger man added, jokingly.

“There’s plenty of food outside. You guys should go and eat before it’s all gone,” Mikayla suggested.

Nia got the sense that the other woman was very aware of the tension in the air.

“Good suggestion,” agreed Evan.

Nia glanced over at him as they walked through the spacious home and out the back door. It was impossible to read his expression. Outside, there was a large buffet table set up under the covered patio, laden with a wide selection of dishes. Evan handed her a plate that they filled with food.

“Come, let’s sit out in the sun,” he suggested, leading her to a seating area away from the house and closer to the beach. “It’s not too cool is it?”

“No, it nice out here,” Nia affirmed.

It was close to seven-thirty in the evening, and the sun was making a brilliant descent into the western horizon.

While they ate, Nia looked between the expansive backyard space and the magnificent ocean view. Despite the years she spent living in the wealthy Bloomfield area of Detroit and working with affluent clients in Boston, she still found it hard to comprehend this level of extravagant wealth. How the hell can this mansion be called a cottage? And it was not much bigger than the “beach house” that Evan’s family owned.

She recalled the feeling that swept over her as they arrived on Martha’s Vineyard earlier that afternoon by car ferry. As they drove out of the busy port area and into the rural countryside, they passed numerous picturesque farms and estate properties. But she was still incredulous when Evan drove them up to the five-bedroom, four-thousand-square-foot property sitting on two acres and with its own private beach. Of course, she hadn’t said anything. Her sense of pride required that she be complimentary about the beautiful house, but act like she regularly spent weekends away at multimillion-dollar vacation homes.

It wasn’t that Nia felt out of place or insecure in that environment or around the wealthy. She’d overcome that years ago. They were essentially the same as anyone else; worth no more or less than average people, but with a moral compass that was sometimes compromised by their warped view of the world. They used people and situations to suit their needs, with little regard for the carnage left in their wake. Nia just didn’t want to get sucked into the destructive vortex often created by the rich and powerful. She knew from experience that it could chew you up and spit you out as garbage.

Which brought her thoughts back to Evan. He was chatting with another couple sitting near them. Nia had known exactly what world he came from the day he’d walked into the gallery. Yet, she had let her attraction to him blind her. She agreed to go out with him despite the significance of his lifestyle and wealth. Now, after meeting the pretty socialite he’d loved enough to almost marry, and being surrounded by corporate executives and influential people, Nia could hardly ignore all the reasons why dating Evan DaCosta would never develop into something more.

It was too bad. She really liked him, and the things he did to her body. But Nia was a realist. At least she would have this weekend to remember.

Once all daylight was gone, the party had moved inside to start the fundraising activities. Evan stayed next to Nia, either holding her hand or with an arm around her shoulder as they looked at the various items available for the silent auction. It felt like he was staking his claim, but she didn’t mind it at all. The constant contact created a secret intimacy that suggested more was to come.

“Do you see anything you like?” he asked at the table covered with jewelry.

“No, don’t usually wear much,” she told him. Even now, she only wore a vintage Cartier watch.

He smiled down at her.

“That’s a little ironic, isn’t it?” he asked.

“I know,” she agreed with a shrug. “I have a few pieces that I love and were worth the investment at the time I bought them. But otherwise, I’m just not into the costume stuff.”

Evan brushed a finger along the side of her face, his eyes glittering intently.

“You don’t need it. You’re beautiful enough without any adornment,” he mumbled deeply. “I think we’ve put in the required time here. Are you ready to go?”

Her knees went a little weak.

“Yeah, sure. Let me just run to the bathroom. Where is it?”

He leaned forward, so he was whispering right into her ear. His lips brushed her skin. She shivered.

“Down the hall, before you get to the kitchen. Do you want me to go with you? To make sure you don’t get lost, of course.”

Nia swallowed, so tempted to accept his offer.

“No, I’ll be okay.”

“Hurry back.”

He stepped away, leaving her breathless with anticipation.

She found the bathroom easily enough and used the facilities as quickly as possible. Mikayla stopped her on the way back.

“Are you enjoying the evening?” she asked Nia with a bright smile.

“I am, thank you,” responded Nia, equally as friendly. “It’s gotten pretty busy in here over the last little bit. I think you guys will do pretty well with the auction.”

“I hope so,” Mikayla sighed.

There was a pause as they both looked over to Evan, now waiting for Nia at the end of the hallway, and he was looking back. “He really likes you.”

Nia glanced over at Mikayla with surprise.

“It’s obvious that he can’t keep his hands off you. I’m glad. He’s a great guy. The best I know. He deserves a partner who can make him happy,” added the petite woman. “It was nice to meet you, Nia.”

She walked away, disappearing into the crowd, leaving Nia somewhat speechless.

“Everything okay?” asked Evan as he approached her.

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

“Good. All set?”

Nia nodded.

“I just need to get my wrap,” she explained.

Within a few minutes, they were on the way back to his place. Evan drove the powerful car a little faster than he should, with the windows down and the warm evening breeze whipping through. Nia appreciated the fresh air, despite the havoc done to her hair. By the time they pulled to a stop in front of the DaCosta cottage, her heart was racing with adrenaline and anticipation.

He opened the passenger door for her, and took her hand to help her out. Then he pulled her close so her body was flush with his. The hard length of his arousal branded her lower torso. He was telling her what he wanted, asking if she was ready. Nia was a big girl. She knew what this moment meant and she knew what she wanted, both now and for the future. Evan DaCosta was only for now, and she intended to take full advantage of the moment.

“Let’s go inside,” she suggested.

His grip around her waist tightened, then he took her hand and led her into the house.

“Do you need anything? Something to drink?” Evan asked as they walked through the dark house.

“No, thank you.”

They continued past the kitchen and dining room, toward the wing of bedrooms along the left side of the cottage. Past the room he’d given her to use, and into the one beside it. Filtered light spilled into the space from outside, illuminating the king-size bed, dresser, and a leather wingback chair near the window.

As Nia looked around, Evan shrugged off his blazer and tossed it on the bench at the end of the bed. He then undid the cufflinks to his shirt, and placed them on top of the dresser. She remained rooted in the center of the spacious bedroom, watching as he slowly unbuttoned his cotton shirt. He shrugged it off, dropping it to the floor, and walked to her. Nia stared openly at the impressive expanse of Evan’s bare torso. Whatever she had imagined he would look like naked was nowhere near as incredible as the real thing. He was all carved muscle, with an eight-pack of sculpted abdominals. Not an ounce of loose fat anywhere.

When he reached her, Evan gently took her purse out of her hand and added it to the dresser. He took her hand in his.

“Come,” he whispered, leading her over to the window, pulling off her cashmere wrap so it fell to the ground along the way.

Evan sat down at the edge of the large leather chair, leaving her standing in front of him between the spread of his knees. His hands slid under the skirt of her dress and up her bare thighs.

“You’ve been driving me nuts all evening,” he mumbled in a deep, sexy voice. His eyes roamed over the length of her torso.

“Really?” she challenged, looking down at him and admiring the flex and folds of sinewy muscles. “And how did I do that?”

He looked up and flashed a smile with a hint of dimples.

“Oh, I think you know exactly how. This dress should be illegal.”

She looked down at her body, clad in pale yellow silk. It did display her curves well. Even now, her hardened nipples were clearly visible through the delicate fabric.

“I think it’s my new favorite,” she teased.

“Take it off,” urged Evan.

His fingers teased at the space between her thighs, causing her to gasp.