Neighbors and More (High Rise Series)

Kindle Edition, Copyright August 14, 2012 - Mona Risk

Neighbors and More

High Rise Series

Kindle Edition, License
Notes

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be used,
reproduced, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic,
mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the written
permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places,
brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination
or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is
purely coincidental.

Other books in Kindle by Mona Risk:

NO MORE LIES:

EPIC’s eBook 2011 Finalist.

Best Contemporary Romance at READERS FAVORITE.

RIGHT NAME, WRONG MAN:

30 Reviews, average 4.3 out of 5 Stars

BABIES IN THE BARGAIN:

Best Romance Novel at Preditors & Editors Readers Poll
2009.

Best Contemporary Romance at READERS FAVORITE.

The Long and the Short of It Reviews: Best Book of the Week

Night Owl Romance: TOP PICK

SAILING WITH YOU:

36 Reviews, average 4.4 out of 5 Stars

Other books in Paperback by Mona Risk:

PRESCRIPTION IN RUSSIAN:

Night Owl Romance: TOP PICK

TO LOVE A HERO:

Simply Romance Review: Outstanding Read

The Romance Studio: Sweetheart of the Week

FRENCH PERIL:

Night Owl Romance: Recommended Read

OSIRIS’ MISSING PART:

Night Owl Romance: TOP PICK

Table of Content:

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Epilogue

High Rise: Blue Waves.

Apt 404 -- Mr. Jent

Apt 502-- Carter Morton and Steve Bairey

Apt 1003-- Greg Partson

Apt 501-- Dianna Oliveira

Apt 1202 -- Julia Bairey

Apt 2101 -- Alexa Partson

Apt 2102 -- Dante Cantari

Chapter One

Apartment 2101.

“Alexa, did you kill Steve Bairey?”

Alexa Partson held her door ajar to prevent Greg from
entering her apartment. How like her ex-husband to blurt a tasteless joke. One
too many.

She shrugged. “Not yet, but I might soon.” She’d wished
Steve in hell, and Greg too, more times than she could count.

“I… I…” At a loss for words, Greg leaned against the wall
and remained rooted in the doorway, raking his salt and pepper hair with
nervous fingers. What on earth had disturbed the selfish bastard? Watching him
curiously, Alexa studied the ashen pallor replacing his usual tan.

“Greg?” Before she could ask the reason for his visit, he
pushed her aside and staggered to the bar separating the kitchen from the
living room.

He poured himself a
Johnnie Walker
, knocked back his
drink, and refilled his glass. “Want some?”

“No thanks.” Should she remind him for the thousandth time
that he didn’t live here anymore? But she’d never seen him so rattled. “What’s
wrong?”

Beads of perspiration moistened his temples. He swiped his
hand across his forehead and plumped down on a white leather chair.

“Steve Bairey drowned in the
Jacuzzi
an hour ago,”
Greg blurted in one breath.

Her hands flew to her heart. “What? Is he...” she cringed,
unable to complete the terrible question.

“He’s dead.”

The word reverberated in her mind like a gong in a silent room.
“Oh God, no.” Dread clawed at her gut, choking the air from her lungs. Shaking,
she slammed the door shut and sat on the sofa, across from her former husband.

“They couldn’t revive him.” Greg took a swig of Scotch
and
banged his glass on the cocktail table.

Shoulders hunched forward, Alexa entwined her fingers in her
lap and stared at her dining table. Steve had stood there, in her apartment,
only a couple of hours ago. She’d wished he’d go to hell and never come back,
but she’d never… A shiver slithered down her spine at the spooky answer to her
wish.

“I didn’t like him, but I’ve never imagined...” His elbows
propped on the armrests of the chair, Greg echoed her thoughts. “He was a
young, healthy guy, in his thirties. How could he have drowned in a hot tub?”

Too nervous to stay put, she went to the kitchen to get a
bottle of water and slurped. “Who found him?” she asked when she resumed her
place on the sofa.

“Mr. Jent. You know the elderly man in 404. He’s always
lying in his lounge chair on his balcony at this time. He said he saw Steve
relaxing in the
Jacuzzi
. But then fifteen minutes later, when old Jent
woke up from a doze, Steve was sprawled underwater. Mr. Jent called 911 and the
building security. The guard on duty notified me.”

Greg took his volunteer position as President of the Blue
Waves building Association very seriously. He knew all the owners, remembered
their apartment numbers, and kept tabs on their long absences and returns.

“Did you… Did you see him?” Annoyed by her stammering, she
inhaled deeply and tried to suppress the nervous tapping of her feet on the
Oriental silk rug. In spite of the air conditioner blowing cold air, she
suffocated in her Capri pants and short-sleeved blouse.

“Yes. The paramedics and the police had already pulled him
out and laid him on a stretcher.” Tension crinkled the many lines around his
gray eyes. “They couldn’t do anything for him. It was too late. The medical
examiner will have to determine the cause of death. I’ll keep you informed.”

“Thank you.” Not that she wanted to know more about the man
who’d stalked her for months.

“I have to go and see Julia Bairey.” Sure enough, Greg
straightened his tall frame and strutted to the door, eager to play his role of
knight in shining armor. “That poor woman loved him, in spite of his cheating
left and right,” he added with a knowing look that grated on Alexa’s nerves.

“Hey.” Stunned, she jabbed her finger into his chest. “I
never slept with him. Don’t you dare make insinuations.”

“I know, sweetheart. I’m talking about other women in the
building.”

“Listen, I’ve had it with Julia’s accusations. She’s never
missed an opportunity to blame me for the failure of her marriage.”

“So I heard.” The Blue Waves building swarmed with gossip,
all reported to Greg by conscientious employees and loyal board members. “I’ll
check on you later. If you need me, call.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. Take care of Julia.” Alexa
accompanied him to the door and locked it behind him.

She was far from
fine, but in less than twenty-four hours, she’d be gone from her sophisticated
apartment to New-York, and maybe Paris, or anywhere, far from Fort Lauderdale
and the many vultures who’d tried to harass or control her. Her stomach churned
with disgust for her life in the luxurious Blue Waves building where neighbors
lived too closely for comfort—and she was so lonely.

Oh Dante, why did you leave? Why did you forget me?
He’d
been gone for two long months. Her gorgeous next door neighbor had probably
replaced her with a girl from his hometown in Sicily.

Wandering to the wall-to-wall bay window, Alexa glanced at
the children playing in the pool, the sunbathers lounging on the beach, and the
magnificent view of myriad boats gliding on the ocean, on a glorious April
afternoon. Too numb to be excited by sceneries she’d always favored, she locked
her heart against sentimental regrets and strode to her bedroom where she’d
already packed two suitcases.

Get a grip, girl
. She needed space to be herself and
breathe freely. She’d leave first thing tomorrow, while her nosy neighbors
still slept. Would they call her a quitter and other malicious names as they’d
called her mother? Maybe the beautiful Annabelle had gone through the same hell
before running away with her lover.

Unable to stay a moment longer in her apartment, she slipped
on a bikini covered with shorts and a see-through top, ready to go for a last
swim and a farewell walk on the beach. As she opened her door, she was caught
in a bear hug and pushed back into her condo.

“Oh my God.” Alexa squealed. Her breath jammed in her throat
as Dante Cantari kicked her apartment door closed behind them and squeezed her
against his chest. “Dante…” A masculine scent mixed with a whiff of lemon
enveloped her.

 “
Cara mia
, you are even more beautiful than when I
left.
Bella
...
Bellissima
.” The Italian hunk in swimming shorts
and tank top held her at arm’s length, and offered her a wide grin that
brightened her living room more than a noon sun.

She was
bella
? What was the masculine word for
handsome in Italian? Her gaze roamed over his raven black hair, curly and thick,
and in need of a cut, a strand falling over his sapphire blue eyes.

“I thought you weren’t coming back. I thought you moved
somewhere else without telling me. I thought...” Oh dear, she was babbling
nonsense. Still unable to believe he was here, holding her, she blinked, glad
she hadn’t left in the morning.

“Oh Alexa, I’d never do such a thing. You’re more important
to me than you think.”

 What do you know? Her wish had come true after all. Right
away. She almost giggled. “When did you get back from Sicily?” To make sure she
wasn’t dreaming, she stroked his chiseled jaw with her fingertips.

“Two hours ago. Just emptied my suitcases, changed into a Floridian
outfit, paid a few bills. And then I rushed to visit my next door neighbor to
tell her...” The intensity of his gaze sparked a rush of emotion through her
blood. “To tell her how much I missed her.” He gave her a bone-melting smile
that mesmerized her, and covered her mouth, darting his tongue between her
parted lips, and exploring every recess with growing hunger.

Trying to free herself, she squirmed, and then gave up on
futile talk as she relished his taut body and smoldering kisses. Caress for
caress and stroke for stroke, she matched his ardor.

Things would be fine.

Things
were
fine. Amazing. Incredible.

Without interrupting his kisses, he hauled her up and strode
toward her bedroom. A scenario she’d played in her fantasy every night for the
past two months.

“
Cara mia
, I dreamed of having you in my arms so many
times.” He gently slid her against his hard body and kept her in his embrace.

Their reflection in the gilded mirror above her dresser
slammed her with the force of a hurricane. Sanity returned to her befuddled
mind as they stood in the middle of her lavish bedroom. “Hey, what do you think
you’re doing?”

“Darling, I missed you so much and—”

“Wait.” She’d be damned before she admitted she’d thought
about him day and night. Not when he hadn’t called her for the last three weeks.
Anger flooded her heart at his casual desertion. She’d naively thought he’d
sweep her off her feet, love her, and take her away to his beautiful island.
When would she stop believing in fairytales and grow up? Dante had flown to his
native land—alone.

 “You missed me?” Raising her hands, she pressed both palms
on his chest to ward him off. “Is that why you only texted a couple of lines to
answer my messages?” She blushed, now disgusted by her way-too-eager messages.

“You’re the one who stopped contacting me.”

If she had any sense in her head, she’d stop ogling the
biceps straining to bring her back against his chest or the muscled legs
revealed by his swimming shorts. Biting her lips to avoid licking them, she
averted her eyes. “You seemed so busy. You didn’t even question my silence.”

“Alexa, you can’t begin to imagine the problems I had to
face in my hometown.” A heavy exhale escaped him.

Should she believe him? An international lawyer with a
smooth tongue and determined voice, Dante could talk any convict into
confessing the truth, or convince any stubborn judge to reverse a harsh
decision.

Alexa arched her eyebrow. “You didn’t mention problems
before leaving.” She tilted her head, imitating his voice. “
Just a couple of
weeks to attend my grandfather’s funeral. Now, don’t forget me
.”