vittanos willow (19 page)

to be another body. Chantoya was missing. Sitting up immediately, he

looked at the clock on the nightstand. Three in the morning.

He climbed out of the bed and pulled on his pants, zipping but

not buttoning them. Barefoot, he moved silently up the short hall

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through the dark. His eyes found her sitting in silence and illuminated

by the faint light from the lamp across the room.

She was curled up on the couch. A crocheted quilt wrapped

around her as she seemed to stare off into nothingness. Osten leaned

against the corner while he watched her.

She was at war with herself. He was able to tell from the

strained and pinched look her normally serene face held. His steps were

sure, even if his heart wasn’t as he walked toward her and sat down

beside her.

They didn’t say anything to one another as he gathered her close

and tucked her body into his. Osten kissed the top of her head as she

curled easily into him. The arm he had draped over her allowed his

hand to run idly up and down her arm.

“This doesn’t change anything,” CJ spoke softly.

Eyes that were almost closed flew back open again. “What do

you mean?”

“I mean, we aren’t fixed.” She rolled her shoulder when his

hand stopped moving. “I have to figure out some things.”

Those words didn’t exactly bode well to Osten’s ears. Instead of

responding verbally, he wrapped his other arm around the front of her,

latching his fingers.

Tilting his head, Osten rested his cheek against the soft hair on

her head. His ears picked up on the wind as it increased in force and

rattled the windows. They also were tuned into the woman in his

embrace and told him when she had fallen back to sleep.

With a tenderness that revealed the depth of his emotions, Osten

carefully maneuvered her into his embrace and carried her back down

the hallway to the bed they were sharing.

Once CJ was tucked back in, the quilt was refolded, and his

pants were removed, Osten slid beneath the covers and gathered her

slumbering body to his. Soon, the room was filled with the deep and

even breath that accompanied heavy, restful slumber.

CJ awoke to the smell of coffee. Her eyes opened and saw Osten

in the doorway holding a mug.

“
Buongiorno, la bella addormentata
.” Osten strolled into her bed-

room, totally dressed and looking all together cheery. One hand ex-

tended the drink to her.

Eagerly accepting the coffee, CJ inhaled the fragrant aroma, then

arched her brow and grumbled, “Morning. You are too frickin’ happy.

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And what the hell did you say to me?” She positioned her body up

against the headboard, making sure the sheet was tucked over her

breasts.

The bed dipped as he sat down beside her. One hand brushed

the hair back from her face. “I said good morning, sleeping beauty,” he

responded, before leaning in to kiss her lightly.

His touch combined with his words caused her to tremble. Pull-

ing back from the tantalizing feel, CJ focused on her coffee. Her hand

shook slightly, but it was enough that Osten noticed.

He captured her chin between his fingers. “Trust me, Chantoya.

I didn’t add anything to your coffee aside from sugar.”
It kills me to think

she doesn’t trust me.

Chantoya’s eyes widened, but she put the mug to her lips and

drank.

“You love your coffee, don’t you?” he teased gently, spying the

tiny grin that appeared on her face.

A larger smile graced her features, banishing the earlier scowl,

and she took another drink. “I could live on coffee.”

Osten’s dark gaze never left her face. “Well, food has been

known to help with survival.”

“Perhaps,” she said as she placed the mug on her beside table.

“But I would die happy with coffee.” CJ got out of bed and slipped on

her green satin robe draped across the foot of her bed.

He envied the way the material glided along the contours of her

body, touched the skin that rivaled the softest creature in existence. His

tongue wiped along his lower lip as he watched her walk to the bath-

room with her natural and sensual grace.

“Lucky fuckin’ robe,” he muttered.

CJ heard him but didn’t stop walking. A smile filled her face as

she entered the bathroom to get ready for the day.

Osten might have wished to stay beside her all day, but he had

to go to work as well. So shoving down his baser instincts, he helped

her into the already running SUV, kissed her, and watched her drive

away.

A sadistic grin crossed the man’s face as he held the vial up to

the light. Perfect. It was all set. Soon, school would be letting out for the

Christmas holiday and then, then Chantoya Jackson would be his.

Quickly, he unpacked the rest of the box, making sure each glass

container was in no way damaged. His dwelling, which had been a

destructive mess once he had lost visual in her apartment, was once

again clean and organized.

Twelve tubes were ultimately in the box and soon they were in a

safe and temperature-controlled environment. He smiled as he cut

down the box and placed it in the recycling bin.

Moving toward a table full of photos, he looked at the striking

cabin in each of them. “Perfect,” he muttered to the room. “This is just

perfect.” Dark eyes were almost gentle as his mind formed an image of

Chantoya being exceedingly happy with him and their numerous

children.

Gathering up the photos, he walked to the shredder and put

each of them through the crosscutting teeth. The face lost the gentle

expression as he nodded. “All is ready for us, sweetheart. Everything is

waiting for our new life to begin…together.”

The chime of his clock let him know he had to go. Slipping on

his large jacket, the man walked out of his home and got into his

vehicle. School was never bad when you got to see the other half of

your soul.

CJ stood in the back of the room and listened to the principal

talk to them about some issues in the holiday show they were present-

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Aliyah Burke

ing. She didn’t want to be here, she wanted to be back at her apartment

packing for her trip.

Tonight over dinner, she would tell Osten she was leaving for

nine days to go to Vietnam. She knew he had been hoping to spend

some time with her during her vacation. However, she believed it best

she get away for a while. And this was a perfect chance to do just that.

Regardless, she just didn’t want to be here. She had gotten all

her required shots, her passport was ready—hell,
she
was ready. Chan-

toya shifted as she tried to give the speaker the attention she knew he

deserved. If she required her students to give her their undivided

attention, then she should do no less when she was the listener.

Running her gaze around the room, she noticed Marvin watch-

ing her intently and in a way that was very unsettling. Normally a

woman who didn’t back down from anything, CJ blinked and looked

away from him.

Chantoya refused to look in Marvin’s direction for the rest of the

morning meeting. As it broke, she left swiftly, stopping only when

another biology teacher talked to her.

Her day passed slowly. The upcoming vacation occupied more

and more of her thoughts. If her students noticed, they were nice

enough not to comment upon anxious fidgeting.

The final bell of the day rang and as her students filed out the

door, she gathered her own items. After changing into running clothes

in the back of her room, CJ walked towards the front door.

“I know what you’re doing, you know,” a feminine voice hissed

low behind her.

Not breaking her stride, Chantoya barely took the time to look

over her shoulder at the woman who was with her. Why was it that the

second she laid eyes upon Abigail she wanted to hit her? “What are you

blabbing about?” CJ questioned.

Long fingers curled around her upper arm and squeezed, bring-

ing her to a halt. “What, was he leaving you so you felt the need to be

all helpless to try and keep him around?” Abigail spat.

Glancing down at the fingers on her arm, CJ moved her eyes

back up to meet the hateful glare of the woman standing by her. “Re-

move your hand,” she said lowly. When it was done, she ran a gloved

hand over her face. “What are you saying, Abigail?”

A sneer filled her features. “Did you drug yourself?”

“Why would I drug myself?” CJ’s eyes narrowed. “What exactly

are you trying to say?”

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129

Flames of hatred raved in her eyes. “That you deliberately gave

yourself a Roofie just to get Osten to feel sorry for you. I was just about

to have him, you stupid bitch! And if he came once, he’ll do it again.”

Abigail leaned closer. “Italian men need beautiful women, not…” she

paused as her gaze ran disgustedly over CJ, “a woman like you.”

Chantoya wanted nothing more than to lash back at the bitch in

her face. But something Abigail said struck a cord deep within her. Was

it true that Osten had been around Abigail after she had tossed him

out? “Good day, Abigail,” CJ murmured as she brushed by and out the

door.

Soon CJ was pounding around the track. She was locked on the

image of Abigail’s sneer as she talked about Osten.
Common sense tells

me not to believe her.
But what was going to happen between them when

she was gone to Vietnam?

“If…damn it, now she has me questioning whether or not I

should even go to Vietnam. Damn her!”

Around and around she went until the cold and the burning of

her muscles made her realize it was time to begin the cool down. Her

steps slowed leading her into a walk. Stretching one final time, CJ

headed off in the direction of her vehicle and climbed in, shutting the

door on the wind that had seemed to increase in strength.

Osten wanted to reach across the table and shake some sense in-

to the woman sitting there.
How the hell could she think I would be like

that?

There was a smoky look to her eyes as CJ watched him in return.

On anyone else, he would bet it was a trick or a practiced look, but not

on her. His eyes drifted down briefly to fall upon her glossy lips, which

he knew from personal experience was Chapstick, but she made it tasty.

The beauty across from him wore a lilac-gray silk shirt and a

pair of smoky blue dress pants. Her hair had been turned into a mass of

curls that hung gently around her face, framing it softly.

Her eyes were bordered by her thick, curved lashes and he nev-

er blinked as she brought her fork to her mouth and took the bite of

meat off the end. His erection grew at the involuntary groan of pleasure

she allowed to escape as she ate her dinner.

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Aliyah Burke

“I don’t know what Abigail has been spouting to you, Chantoya,

but I don’t have any designs on her. Never have. The only time I saw

her was at the grocery store when I was out with Dimitri.”

They had been silent after her initial accusation as they fought

their own demons. Chantoya, the fear he was interested in someone like

Abigail. Osten, trying to figure out what he had to do to crack the

barrier CJ had erected around her heart.

When they had been given their dinner, Osten couldn’t remain

silent any longer. So he spoke, telling her his side. CJ had shrugged as

she swallowed her food. Now, he was not sure what that had meant.

“I’m going to Vietnam,” CJ blurted out.

The hand that had been reaching for his own fork stopped dead.

“What? When?” Thick brows furrowed. “With whom?”

“After school gets out for the holiday. I am going with Binh.”

“And you will be gone for your whole vacation?” Osten didn’t

want her to go, but he knew she deserved it.

“Pretty much. School isn’t out this year until the twenty-second,

and we are leaving the next day.”

He took a drink of his wine. “Will you be around for New Year’s

Eve?”

CJ rested her chin on the back of her hands and arched a brow.

“Will you?”

Osten had no response to that. How could he? She was totally

right. “CJ, you know I can’t promise anything like that.”

Resting her fork, prongs down, on her plate, CJ took a drink of

her water. After her glass was back on the white tablecloth, she reached

for her purse. Looking up at the man who appeared so handsome in his

black-cherry mock turtleneck, and sharply pressed black slacks, she

placed two twenty-dollar bills down. “This will cover my share.”

Pushing back from the table, CJ waved him back as he stood.

“No, Osten. You want me to adjust my schedule to fit yours. And I am

not even over that whole camera thing. I need some time.
Alone.
”

Osten ignored her attempt to keep him in the seat. It didn’t take