A Lover's Mask (3 page)

Meanwhile, Anson and Graham looked lost—almost unnerved. Clearly, they didn't want to return to the office empty-handed.

“Whiskey—” County ordered from the waiter once he arrived at the table.

Suddenly, Graham nudged Anson's arm and nodded.

“We're sorry we can't do business Ms. Warren,” Anson said, as he and his partner stood.

“Please enjoy your lunch on us,” Graham offered.

County nodded, grateful for an end to the meeting and hoping her eyes weren't sparkling too much in anticipation of their leaving. Still, she was surprised to find them giving up so easily—something they rarely did.

“You guys have a good afternoon,” she said, already reaching for a menu.

 

“Will you be having lunch with us today, Ms. Warren?” The waiter asked when he returned with Contessa's drink shortly after Graham and Anson's departure.

“I think I will,” County decided, sipping her drink as she perused the menu.

“I'll just give you a few moments,” the waiter said, “would you like a refill on your drink Mr. Ramsey?” he inquired, stepping past County.

Seeing Fernando standing next to the table as though there were nothing out of the ordinary about it, rendered County motionless. At last, she was able to lean back in her chair and observe him with a soft smile gracing her mouth.

“It'll take a menu,” he decided, nodding when the waiter set off to get him one.

County watched him choose a seat and waited for him to tell her what he was doing there.

“Are you alone?” he asked, resting his elbows on either arm of the deep chair.

“Would it matter?” County responded, her brown eyes narrowed in challenge.

Fernando shook his head and resituated his massive frame in the chair.

“Are
you
alone?” she asked.

“Would it matter?” he returned.

County chuckled. “Touché,” she conceded. “I'd just feel really bad about taking you away from your dates twice in one month.”

“Well, technically, it was
last
month that you took me away from them.”

County tapped one nail to her chin while considering the clarification. “You're right,” she said upon remembering. “To hell with 'em.”

Fernando massaged his bearded cheek and fixed her with a suspicious look. “What made you think I was with them, anyway?” he wanted to know.

“That's right,” County sighed, her oval honey toned face a picture of realization, “you probably never see the same woman after one date.”

“You wound me, County,” his deep voice cooed.

“Then again,” she went on, dismissing the soothing tone of his baritone voice, “perhaps you haven't…consummated the date?” she lightly probed.

Fernando tugged on the cuff of his jacket and shrugged. “A gentleman never tells.”

The waiter returned with refills on both Fernando's and Countessa's drinks, along with a menu for Fernando. “Are we ready to order?” he asked County.

“Oh, I haven't even had time to look,” she said with a start.

“Too busy giving me a hard time,” Fernando shared, earning a wicked smile from County.

“I'll give you two more time,” the waiter decided before leaving them alone again.

“So, about my supposed
dates
. They really are business I swear.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. You're far too gorgeous to have to pay for it.”

Fernando blinked and tilted his head in curiosity. “Are you complimenting me?”

“Of course I am,” she coolly admitted, her expressive gaze still trained on the menu. “Hasn't a woman ever told you that?”

Fernando barely raised his hand in a flip wave. “In her own way.”

County set aside her menu. “What way? By gazing longingly into your eyes while she bats her lashes and laughs at every witty or
un
witty remark you make?”

Fernando shifted in his chair, feeling the front of his trousers grow snug as the twinges of arousal began to swell his manhood. Oral banter courtesy of Contessa Warren was as good as oral sex, he decided then and there. Clearing his throat, he concentrated on focusing his thoughts on something completely nonerotic.

“I'm sorry,” County whispered, pressing her hand across the black V-neck jersey blouse she wore beneath her suit, “we were discussing your dates who are actually business.”

“They actually are,” Fernando confirmed, the sensual curve of his mouth twitched against the need to laugh.

“So you're
not
paying them?”

“No. Well, yes. Technically.”

County laughed loud and unashamed. “
That
you'll have to explain.”

“They're working for me.”

“Ha! I'll bet they are.”

The waiter returned amidst boisterous laughter and immediately asked if he should return later.

“I think it'll be a while before we get around to eating,” County predicted. “Mr. Ramsey's got some explaining to do. But you can bring me another whiskey and I have a feeling the gentleman could use several more drinks.”

“I'll keep the beverages coming,” the waiter promised, close to laughter himself.

“Now, where were we?” County asked Fernando, her vibrant stare made even more vibrant in the presence of cunning.

For a moment, he could only stare at her. He enjoyed everything he saw on the outside—and inside. This was a woman who could match him and he honestly thought the only women who existed were either sickeningly sweet and over accommodating, too eager to please or devious, conniving, self-serving and ready to betray.

Contessa Warren…Contessa…she was something else. He'd come to the realization long ago. His gut had never betrayed him and it was now telling him to hold on to her—to not let her too far out of his sight for too long. This was a woman to keep—a woman who could be a powerful, completely satisfying partner in bed, in business, in life.

County was snapping her fingers before his face and chuckling when he blinked. “Have you created your lie—excuse me,
explanation
yet?”

“The girls really are business,” he swore, nodding when the waiter placed refills on the table. “They're going to be featured in one of my magazines.”

“Mmm…the plot thickens,” County said, leaning back in her chair. “I wouldn't have pegged you for a literary man.”

“Too gorgeous, right?” he probed, chuckling when County sent him a saucy wink.

“Well, something tells me those two aren't gracing the pages of a happy homemaker magazine,” she said.

“Not quite. I own several magazines,” he told her, taking a deep drink from his glass. “Two I run from here in Chicago. Those two will be featured in one of my, um…gentleman's magazines.”

“Well, I must say I've never met a man with so many interesting…interests.” County admitted, her eyes brightening as she was thoroughly intrigued.

“Then why not see them firsthand? Join me tomorrow for a tour of my offices?”

“A tour?” County laughed, shaking her head. “That really isn't necessary. I believe you.”

“I really want you to see the place.”

“Why?”

“Maybe I'm trying to impress you.”

“You've done that already.”

Fernando bowed his head, acknowledging the suggestive meaning of her words. “I don't want you to think I'm a one-dimensional guy.”

County smoothed one hand across her chic cut. “Oh, I don't think that. Trust me.”

Fernando's warm deep-set gaze seemed to intensify. “I'm being serious,” he said in a mildly warning tone.

County shrugged one shoulder. “So am I.”

“Is this a date or not?” he asked.

“Hmm,” County closed her eyes, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth. “Yes.”

Fernando thought the word had never sounded sweeter.

C
ounty and Fernando placed their orders after the waiter's fifth journey to their table. Several quiet moments passed as they dined on delicious curry chicken with rice, spinach salads and hot, buttery rolls.

“So is there any particular reason why you live in Seattle yet run your business from Chicago?” County asked, stabbing a spinach leaf with her fork.

“I only run two magazines from Chicago,” Fernando clarified. “I thought about relocating here while I was getting the pubs established. I decided against it.”

“Why?”

“Because my last name is Ramsey.”

“Ah…” County sighed, forgetting her food for a moment. “Trying to be your own man?”

Fernando's grin sparked the adorable crinkles at the corners of his eyes. “I was already my own man. I just didn't want anyone to know I was Marcus Ramsey's son. But I'll be damned if he hadn't already made a name for himself here, too.”

“So the bulk of your empire is in Seattle?” County surmised in a teasing manner, feeling the chill in his voice when he spoke of his father.

“That's right. I only have the two magazines here,” he confirmed.

“So what else are you involved in?” she asked, returning her attention to the succulent curry chicken. “It's not for my files,” she said when he seemed reluctant to respond, “I already have plenty of info on you.”

“Is that right?” Fernando said while leaning back to regard her. “Now it's your turn to elaborate.”

“Well, there's your colorful childhood for starters,” County began, realizing that he'd shifted the subject but deciding to play along anyway, “a tour of duty in reform school and then it was on to the big house.”

“You're thorough,” Fernando commended.

County shrugged. “I try. You know, you should become a motivational speaker. ‘How to turn your life around or become a
legal
crook,'” she joked.

Again, Fernando placed a hand across his heart. “You continue to wound me,” he lamented.

“So what would possess someone like you to get into trouble?”

“Someone like me?” Fernando parroted, toying with his earlobe as he spoke. “What? You mean someone with money and no problems?”

County smiled knowingly and silently conceded his point with a nod.

“Contessa, a kid with money is a kid with absentee parents.”

“Not always,” County argued.

“But many times.”

“So your father didn't have time for you or your brothers?”

“Oh, he had time, but there's a difference between having time and
making
time.”

In spite of the deep unwavering strength behind his voice, County could tell there was still hurt within him. “What about your mother?” she asked.

“Phenomenal,” Fernando spoke without hesitation, admiration filling his captivating eyes momentarily. “But a boy needs his father. To us, Marcus was just another man. Perhaps having him closer would've blinded us to what he was really like.”

County recrossed her legs and leaned closer to the table. “But he's still your father—still in your lives…” she trailed away, watching his face tighten with some tense emotion.

“Not for long,” he muttered.

She heard each word and could almost feel the hate rolling from his tongue. It made him seem so different, so unapproachable. She certainly didn't care for the sinister element the emotion cast across his very handsome face. Finding herself at an uncharacteristic loss for words, she clasped her hands in her lap and remained silent.

“You in the mood for dessert?”

His question, returned some of the easiness to the table. County raised her hand as though she were about to testify.

“I couldn't eat another bite,” she said, casting a look of concern towards the dining room's tall paned windows. “Besides, I think I've played it risky too long. That snow's gonna barrel down any second and my office is two blocks away.”

“You intend to walk?” Fernando asked, his concern evident as a furrow formed between his long, sleek brows.

“Oh, it's fine. The walk isn't nearly as long as you think,” County insisted.

“It's freezing out there.”

“I'm used to it.”

Fernando shook his head. “Not while I'm around, you're not,” he decided and reached inside his suit coat to retrieve his wallet.

“Fernando—”

“Hush,” he urged in the softest voice, dropping money to the table before clicking on his cell phone. “Hey, where are you?” he asked, pleased to hear that his driver James had dropped off the
dates
and was parked out in front of the restaurant. “We'll be right out.”

“Trying to be a gentleman, Ramsey?”

Fernando was about to stand, when he heard her question and the way she addressed him. “I don't have to try with you. It comes easy.”

County laughed. “Smooth,” she complimented.

Fernando stood and favored her with a smirk. “I hope one day you'll take it as honesty.”

Her desire to tease draining away, County stood and let him help her into her coat. She watched him closely as he buttoned the stylish trench, secured the belt at her waist and tugged the fur collar around her ears.

“I'm not sleeping with you,” she said once he was done.

Fernando kept his hands secure around the fur collar. “Do you think that's what a man wants if he's being nice to you?”

“It usually is.”

“Well, I'm not the usual.”

That's what worries me,
County remarked silently and then let him lead her out of the restaurant.

St. Croix, Virgin Islands

Tykira Lowery Ramsey stretched and smiled lazily when her husband rose from beneath the pool of ocean blue water.

“Now I see why you requested a suite with its own pool,” she whispered, trailing her nails across his jaw.

Quay shrugged one shoulder. “Sometimes you gotta have privacy,” he told his wife, grinning devilishly as he leaned in to kiss her.

Ty uttered a weak moan when she tasted her body on his mouth. Her moans increased in volume as she suckled his tongue in a desperate, lusty manner. She felt the familiar tingle grow in intensity as it trickled all the way to her toes and she became lost in his embrace.

“Time for bed,” Quay announced when he pulled away after several moments.

“We just got out of bed,” Ty said amidst her laughter.

“Damn, why'd we do that?”

Ty smiled at her husband, pretended to be confused and followed suit. “Hmm? Let me think…” she sighed, and then snapped her fingers, “because we wanted to make love in the pool.”

“Right,” Quay drawled, filling his palms with her breasts and preparing to feast.

“Quay, Quay wait,” Ty lightly protested.

Of course, he didn't listen. “This is what newlyweds do on their honeymoon,” he said, suckling madly on a firm nipple.

“I know,” Ty gasped, cupping his neck and arching more of herself into his mouth. “Mmm…but we've been on our honeymoon going on two months…”

Quay sobered, his dark eyes narrowing as he moved back to study her face. “Aren't you having a good time?”

Ty splashed water in his face. “Don't ask foolish questions,” she said, kissing his cheek when he smiled.

“Well, what's wrong here? Why are you telling me to stop?” he asked, looking longingly at her breasts as if she'd hurt his feelings.

“Actually baby, I was hoping you could tell me.”

“Huh?”

Ty looked up at the gorgeous late afternoon sky and braced herself. “Well…it's just that you haven't called anyone in Washington or even checked in on the business.”

“I talked to Q a week ago. Everything's fine.”

“But don't you want to see for yourself?”

Quay braced his hands on the pool on either side of Ty. “You
did
say you were having a good time, right?”

“Just how long do you plan to hide out down here?” she challenged, her brows rising when Quay appeared shocked. “I can practically see your mood changing before my eyes even when I just vaguely mention Seattle. I want to know what's wrong with you.”

The muscle in Quay's jaw danced wickedly as the rest of his features tightened. “You should know,” he grumbled while splashing out of the pool.

Ty wasted no time following him back into the suite. “Would you mind clarifying that?”

“If we go back, I'm liable to break some necks, Ty. That clear enough for you?”

“Oh,” she replied, barely able to swallow past the sudden lump in her throat. “Houston's neck, I take it?”

“And that bastard, Marcus.”

Ty slipped into a white cotton robe and watched Quay pour himself a stiff drink from the bar. “Is it that bad?” she asked.

“It's that bad,” Quay muttered, “when we aren't…together, torturing those jackasses is all I think about. Wait,” he urged, when Ty opened her mouth to speak, “if you're about to tell me to let it go, I'm sorry. That ain't gonna happen unless I stay as far away from Seattle as possible.”

Ty shook off the coldness that was brushing her skin and put on a teasing smile while heading toward the bar. “The last thing I want to do is share you with anyone,” she murmured against his ear and linked her arms around his waist. She took away his glass when he turned in her arms, before pressing soft, wet pecks to his chest and jaw. “Now, where were we?” she asked.

Seattle, Washington

Josephine Ramsey opened the door to her bathroom suite just an inch and assessed the bedroom to see if it was empty. Pushing open the door a bit wider, she took a better look and saw that Marcus had gone. Sighing her relief and delight, she left the bath. Lovely as it was, she was sick of spending the better part of an hour there waiting for her husband to leave for the day.

If only I had strength enough to leave him,
she thought. All she had to do was pack and go. There were no small boys running around to wrangle and prepare for a trip to an unknown destination. She answered to no one but herself.

However, Josephine knew that for all her hatred and disgust for her husband, she'd not leave. Not now, not ever. Even though her sons had pretty much begged her to leave their own father in the dust, she knew she wouldn't. Did she love him that much? No, but she loved her life, her home. In short, she loved being Mrs. Marcus Ramsey. Sure she could have such a lifestyle away from him. Sadly, she'd grown accustomed to the label and the respect it garnered. She honestly didn't know who Josephine Simon was anymore. She didn't know how to live without the label. She didn't know how to live without being attached to a man.

Clearly it didn't matter what sort of man he was. The realizations about Houston and that he'd confided to Marcus about killing Sera…Marc not only kept those horrors a secret, but went so far as to arrange the disappearance of evidence and possibly assist in his brother's escape when he knew…

Josephine shook her head, not wanting to think about the rest. Houston had done more than have an affair with his daughter's best friend. He'd murdered her and that was only half the story.

Again, Josephine shook her head, sending locks of her bobbed cut into her face. She would go mad—well, more mad than she was already, if she didn't stop replaying this in her mind. For years, it had rested on her heart—lying dormant amidst a wealth of other horrors. Then, the case resurfaced, Houston's deeds were reborn and it was only a matter of time before the rest of the tale was revealed.

 

“This was totally unnecessary, you know? I could've easily gotten myself home,” County told Fernando as they entered her exquisite condo in Library Tower.

“I don't know what possessed you to leave your truck at home and take the train in the first place,” Fernando grumbled, unbuttoning the black leather trench he wore.

County tossed her coat to a nearby armchair. “First of all I, unlike you, am not chauffeured to work on the regular. Second, fighting rush hour traffic in Chicago ain't my idea of fun.” She brushed nonexistent lint from her skirt. “Besides, winter just came too fast this year.”

“Yeah January…what was old man winter thinking?” Fernando teased, earning a sour look from County in return.

“Careful Ramsey,” she warned.

Her use of his last name again caused Fernando's gaze to narrow. He'd never cared for it, but hearing her say it…Damn, could this woman do anything to disinterest him?”

“Well, thank you for the ride,” County said, clearing her throat when she noticed the intensity of his stare.