Touch Me and Tango (14 page)

“No.” She grabbed his hand and held it. “I’ve been around
the whole world and never met another man like you.”

He gave her hand a squeeze and set it down on the covers.
“Good thing. It was hard enough for you to get rid of one of me.”

His blunt mention of their past could have destroyed the
peaceful ambience, but it didn’t. If he had any anger or bitterness toward her,
he didn’t show it. She was about to dive into the subject, hoping it would
clear the air rather than bring on another dispute, but she paused when he held
up the small, leather bound journal she’d had on her night table. Stella’s
diary.

“Where did you find this?”

“In a box of things that belonged to her. She was Harry’s
wife.” She showed him the tango picture that she now kept in the night table
drawer. “Here they are together.”

“I figured that from some of the entries. Are you searching
it for clues to where the steamer trunk is?”

His question surprised her. Not the question itself, but
what it made her realize. She’d been perusing the diary for passages about
Stella’s and Harry’s love life. Hadn’t even thought of looking for clues in it.
What happened to the goal-oriented girl who once would’ve combed that thing for
clues the minute she found it? “Um, I just started it.”

Parker opened the book and began to read aloud. The room
took on a settled hush, his deep voice soothing her as if she were a child
hearing a bedtime story. Tanya couldn’t imagine sharing these personal passages
with anyone but him. They settled into a kind of intimacy, exchanging glances
and stopping every so often to discuss the possible meaning of certain entries.

“They were so in love,” Tanya whispered.

Parker stopped reading. He closed the diary and set it back on
the night table. As if he needed to change the subject, he said, “I saw an
endangered plant on Rubikoff Island. Won’t bloom until August though. Sandplain
gerardia. It’s extremely rare.”

“What’s it like?”

“You.”

“Me? What do you mean?”

“It’s got this hot, sexy pink flower, but the stem is actually
a graceful, delicate thing. And it’s very picky.”

“Am I being flattered or insulted?”

“A little of both.” His eyes met hers. Then his gaze
traveled to her shoulder, bare beneath the strap of her summer nightshift, and
to her breasts pressing against the thin fabric.

She felt her cheeks flush. Her words came out before she had
a chance to check them. “Kiss me.”

In one swift movement he was sitting on the edge of the bed,
his mouth on hers, his hands gripping her shoulders. She slid her arms around
his torso of solid rock and pulled him closer. It was not a gentle kiss. It was
like heaven. Or maybe a magical forest. Parker always smelled of flowers and
earth.

Her lips parted, his tongue probed deeper, his mouth ravishing
hers with that same passion she’d longed to find again, hoping each man she met
would bring her to that place only Parker had taken her. But no one ever could.

In the days of her youth when she’d first seduced him,
wickedly thrilled at the idea of teaching the ropes to the neophyte hunk who
was the gardener’s son, she’d been taken by surprise. His touch, his kiss, one
look in his eyes sparked a hunger in her she’d never known before.

Back then the depth of their passion had frightened her,
threatening to ruin every goal she had planned. He’d robbed her of her power,
making her need him more desperately than she’d ever needed anything. And the
part of her that hated him for it dealt him a cruel blow.

But it did not free her. After ten years she still found
herself aching for him.

Parker sat back. “I shouldn’t do this. You’ve been injured.
You need—”

“I need you.” His hair bunched in her hands, she pulled
until his lips met hers again.

***

Parker could hardly believe this was happening. This
afternoon he’d thought he might go mad if he had arrived too late, if he’d
found only her lifeless body in the water. But here she was, not only alive,
but in his arms, kissing him, wanting him.

She’d already managed to yank off his shirt. Her tongue on
his chest sent him reeling. His hands moved to her full breasts, the nipple
hardening against his palm. He slid the top of her nightie down and sucked
gently. He moved along her satin smooth tummy and continued to her precious
mound, his hands and mouth relishing every part of her. He loved the gasps and bird-like
whimpers she made as he brought her to climax.

Then he worried about her. “Did that hurt your head?”

“I’d rather talk about your head.” Tanya shifted to her
knees and pushed him flat on his back, sideways across the bed. Unzipping his
jeans, she used her mouth on him in a way that drove him wild. He’d had many
women since those early days when Tanya had initiated him in just about every
form of sex, but there was something special about her touch that no other
female could match.

How many times had he tossed in bed wondering where she was,
or who she was with, and if he’d ever see her again? When he was just about
ready to explode, she stopped, lifted the skirt of her nightie and straddled
him. They’d always fallen easily into a rhythmic dance that took Parker to an
ecstatic dream world he could only reach with Tanya in his arms. And tonight he
returned to that glorious place of love.
 

Afterward, he nuzzled her neck, nibbled her ear, and found
her luscious mouth again. Finally, he sat up and tugged on his jeans.

She was half asleep when she murmured, “Don’t go, Parker.
I’ve missed you so much.”

His heart swelled, her words nearly bringing him to tears.
He kissed her cheek and tucked her into the bed, setting the pillows so her
wound wouldn’t chafe. Then he watched her sleep, smiling at the way she kicked
the covers in a tangle at her feet.

Shortly before dawn he kissed Tanya and whispered, “I have
to go now.”

Her eyes fluttered open and he feared last night would be
something she dismissed or denied. But instead he was rewarded with an
obstinate, little girl, “No. You can’t go.” She reached her arms around him in
a vice grip.

“I have customers scheduled. But I’ll be back later.”

She gave him a kiss that was so hot he almost changed his
mind about leaving just yet. But then she loosened her grip and drifted back to
sleep.

Not wanting to wake Eva, he merely splashed a bit of water
on his face and quietly made his way out.

He cruised down the long Gentilliano drive and onto the main
road when his phone rang. “Richardson Landscape Gardening and Lawn Care. This
is Parker.”

“Heh, heh, heh.”

“Who is this?”

“S’up ol’ buddy?” A raspy tenor.

“Who am I talking to?”

“Aw, come on. You don’t recognize my voice?”

“I run a business. I’m not amused. And I’m in no mood to
play dumbass games.”

“Awww. That hurts my feelings. And we were so close.”

“Go prank somebody else, asshole.”

“Don’t hang up. You wanna know who I am? Here’s a clue.
Remember back in 2001 there was a bar called Bo’s Den out near the Point? Guy
named Pachalik ran the place. Remember?”

Oh no. A chill passed through Parker’s shoulders. He knew
sooner or later this day would come. He knew it from the moment he testified
against him over ten years ago that eventually somewhere down the road there’d
be payback.

“Want your lawn taken care of, Jesse?”

“Don’t have no lawn.”

“Then what do you want?”

“Good question. What do I want? I may need time to think
about that. Then again time’s something I learned to handle real well. Ya do
once they shove you inside a cage for ten fuckin’ years with a bunch a wild
animals. Now can you imagine what that’s like? Sleeping with one eye open.
Having to shower with your ass pressed against the wall and a tiny piece of
razor stuck between your knuckles to keep the predators off? Ever think about
that? Ten fuckin’ years of that bullshit. All on account of you.”

“You robbed Gus Pachalik and were about to kill him.” Parker
had walked into the small off-the-beaten-track bar when he interrupted the
hold-up taking place. Jesse had the elderly bar owner facedown after pistol
whipping him severely. There were no signs of him letting up on the man. Seeing
a potential fatality in progress, Parker didn’t hesitate, but overpowered
Jesse, taking his gun and putting him in a submission hold while old Mr.
Pachalik stumbled to his phone and called 911.

“Things would have been fine if you’d have minded your own
damn business.”

“Saving a person’s life is everybody’s business.”

“The honorable judge and jury, Parker Richardson, has
spoken.”

His anger rose. “If you have something you need to get off
your chest, then fine. We’ll have it out fair and square. Go somewhere, just
the two of us. Bang it out to our hearts’ content. Only don’t bother my family.
And don’t waste my time with any bullshit games. Let’s settle it and be done.”

“Oh, I plan on settling it, all right. Nothing can change
that. Except I’ll decide when and where. And in what form. Do you understand?
You belong to me now.”

Click
.

Parker put his smart phone back in his pocket. His fingers
trembled slightly. The thought of engaging in a punch out with Jesse Peterson
didn’t worry him in the slightest. Parker had no fear when it came to fighting.
Why should he? He’d never lost one in his whole life. And he’d had his share.

But there was nothing he could do if a coward like Jesse,
who’d beat on an old man, decided to shoot him in the back or set fire to his
home or hurt his family. He had no legal cards to play. Despite Jesse’s dire
insinuations, he’d obviously been careful not to make any concrete threats.

All Parker could do now was wait.

Tanya’s first decision was to conceal the charming medical
bandage that covered her bruised, cut head. She went the exotic turban route
with a blazing red silk bandana. Along with it she dressed in skinny jeans and
a rust colored jersey top that showed her slim waist and ample bust. Her
headache and dizziness persisted, but she forced herself to move around. Her
first wheelchair ballroom class began tonight at Casey’s studio and there was
no way she’d cancel when several of the participants would have made special
arrangements to get there.

She also wanted to look good when Parker returned. He hadn’t
said exactly when, just that he’d be back. She knew he had customers to
service. And he’d said something about buddies he met for workouts three
mornings a week.

She hugged her arms around herself thinking of the way he’d
pulled her from the water and held her on his lap as if he didn’t want to ever
let go of her. And last night they’d had such a great time together. Just being
next to Parker somehow made her feel more alive. It amazed her that after all
these years he was the only one who could reach a certain part of her. She
wasn’t even sure what that part was. Or why. All she knew was that she couldn’t
wait for him to return.

This morning Eva had smothered her with motherly concern and
tried to pamper her. She’d been so sweet that Tanya pretended to be ecstatic
over the burnt toast and rubbery eggs she’d made for her.

Afterward, she reclined on her bed upstairs. Remembering
Parker’s suggestion to look for clues in Stella’s diary, she scanned the pages
for any mention of the steamer trunk, the diamonds, or Harry’s preparations for
leaving the country. So many pages had nothing that she almost quit.

Then they began. The passages about Harry growing more and
more anxious and fearful with business associates betraying him and the law
breathing down his neck. It seemed he and Stella were just about ready to
leave. But apparently he was having trouble with a man who was supposed to take
them to South America. A man named Reda who shipped rum to Harry from the West
Indies.

It looked like Harry and Stella were fighting over whether
or not to go. Several pages had watery stains. Tears? Then it seemed five pages
were deliberately torn out. On one half-page Stella mentioned packing up the
steamer trunks. Her adrenaline kicked in. She perused the following pages
carefully for any word of Harry’s stash.

Her breath caught.

“
Last night Harry went
to his little island and brought the trunk back. Between exorbitant protection
fees and buddy payoffs and splurging on our secret parties, who knows if we’ll
have anything left
?”

Tanya read it again several times. Did it say what she
thought? But what else could it mean? The steamer trunk they were looking for
wasn’t on Rubikoff Island anymore. And Stella and Harry had obviously used the
stash. Whatever jewelry or diamonds had been in there were long gone. Her heart
sank.

How could she tell her mother? Joel had said selling the
house wouldn’t cover both the combination of hospital debts and back taxes.
Tanya made decent money touring, but not that much. How were they going to get
out of this?

The doorbell summoned her attention. She raced downstairs.
“I’ll get it,” she said. When Tanya opened the front door she did a double
take. Mark Litchfield stood there, hands in his pockets, shoulders slumped
casually, body language and high-end clothing that had all the makings for a
GQ
cover.

Time suspended. She took a moment to adjust. How strange it
was to see Mark here in North Cove, in a world so far away from the one they
lived in, so much simpler and without all the flash.

What timing. Was this a message from the Universe telling
her to marry Mark and receive her free (well, not exactly) special introductory
offer of a million dollars? A sweetheart deal if there ever was one. An easy
cool mil. And all for simply joining him in the bonds of matrimony. Had her
ship arrived wearing a blue striped Tommy Hilfiger oxford? Were her mother’s worries
about to come to an end? Or were Tanya’s about to get a lot worse?