A Test of Love: Interracial Erotic Romance (Chasing Love) (5 page)

“Jasmine?”

“Yes.”

“Did having Chef Dubois on board help stop your being mad at me?”

“It failed.” I grabbed the robe slung over the edge of the stand. “Granted, the man is a genius, but you, my friend, are a psycho asshat, so no, I’m not going to be okay with you kidnapping me.”

“That’s fine.” He got up from his bed and headed in my direction. “I have other surprises.”

“Fuck you, Chase.” I slowly put on the robe, making sure to not move my right arm too much. “When we land, I’m taking a plane right back to Oshane City. This is insane. Where are we going by the way?”

“You don’t want to be surprised?” He planted his hands on the wall behind me, trapping me in with his big arms. Like my brothers, he was over six feet and towered over my small frame. It would be difficult to get away from him if he didn’t want me to.

“Move.” I shoved at his chest. My left hand itched to slap him. He smirked at my raised hand. I dropped it. “I don’t think this is funny. Last night I considered getting back together with you, but I guess it took my getting shot and taken as a hostage to get my senses back.”

“So should I cancel the wedding planner?”

“Get away from me before I knee you in the crotch.”

His smirk left. “When I was six years old, I jumped out of bed and walked to my mom’s bedroom—”

“This has nothing to do with your snatching me from the hospital.” I edged to the right.

“Let me finish.” He pulled me back to him. “I remember there was no sound, just this quiet calm. I was actually excited and thought I would wake my mom up, surprise her like usual.” He averted his eyes. “But when I came closer to the bed. The knife sticking out of her chest told me that this wasn’t going to be like usual.”

I leaned back on the wall, ’unsure what to say.

“I ran away and screamed for a maid. I never even checked to see if she was okay.”

“You were just six,” I whispered.

“That’s the first woman I found dead, but of course you know that wasn’t the last.” A grim expression spread across his face. “Several years later, I discovered all three women when they were killed. And I know it seems impossible, but I did care for them in my way.”

I bit my lip.

“I’m still not over my mother’s or the others’ deaths.” He tucked hair behind my ear. “And last night, my selfishness got you shot.”

“Selfishness?”

“I’m selfish because I won’t let you go. I’m selfish because you deserve better, but I can’t stop pursuing you. And I’m selfish because maybe if I did leave you alone, whichever one of them is doing this would stop.”

“Who knows why the person—”

“Whoever is killing is doing it because of me. I have no doubts about that. There’s no other connection.” He sighed as if he was exhausted. “The smart thing to do would be to have guards around you and for me to leave you alone.”

I held in my breath.

“But I can’t fucking walk away from you, Jasmine, and if you think you have another option besides my love, then you’re crazier than I am. There will be no others, not in this lifetime or the next.”

“Chase—”

“Do you believe me?”

“It doesn’t matter if I believe you or not. You can’t—”

“There won’t be any others.”

I shook my head.

“Do you understand that I’m serious about you being in my life?” He tilted his head to the side.

“You kidnapped me. I’ve got the picture.” I frowned. “And I’m sorry about your mom and the other women who passed away, but that doesn’t give you the right to do anything you want when it comes to me. I’m not your woman, sex slave, or property.”

“Says who?” He pressed his lips against mine. Warmth rose in my chest, but I wasn’t letting my body dictate this moment. He’d messed up, gone past the limits of possessiveness, and promoted himself to psychotic asshole.

“Stop,” I whispered. He nibbled my bottom lip. Sparks ignited each time his soft mouth slipped against mine. His kisses should’ve been illegal, his tongue a crime in all fifty states.

A bang sounded at the door.

“Yes?” Chase said. There was no denying the aggravation in his voice as he targeted his gaze on my robe’s tie.

“The stewardess told me my sister woke up,” Troy said from the other side.

My mouth dropped open. “My brother’s here?”

“Vivian too.” Chase winked. “Like I said, I had other surprises.”

“Jasmine?” Troy knocked again.

“Yeah,” I called back. “I’m coming out in a minute.”

“Make it sooner. The food smells good. I’m hungry,” Troy said. His footsteps pounded away. Like Vivian, he could never keep quiet when he moved. If he walked, he stomped. If he ran, his feet crashed into the pavement like a hammer slamming against a nail.

Vivian and my brother are on the plane, as I’m held captive? This won’t be good.

“Are you still mad?” Chase brought his attention back to me.

“Yes.”

“Did the mention of Chef Dubois make you less mad?” He leaned in closer to me.

“No.”

He rubbed those soft lips against my ear. “What about my bringing along Troy and Vivian?”

“It’s just going to make this trip more stressful. Those two fill the room with so much anxiety it’s hard to breathe when I’m around them both. I would rather sit on a plane with a Christian zealot and a Muslim suicide bomber, and ask them which religion is right.”

“You’re a hard woman to please.” He nipped at my chin. Sparks shouldn’t have tickled my whole face, but they did.

I moved away from him. “You’re a hard man to be with.”

He grinned. “So we’re back together?”

“No.”

“Because you’re mad?”

“Because too much is going on and I still need time to think.”

“How much time?”

“I’m not sure. We just have to figure out if a relationship with you is even possible.”

Silence came next. In those quiet seconds he seared me with a gaze that was hard to maintain. Every inch of me wanted to look away, but I couldn’t. Chase thrived on fear. In all his business deals, he maintained the upper hand and kept all those around him shaken and unsure of themselves. I couldn’t let him know that he had me rattled or confused with everything happening around us.

Chase’s voice held a sharpened edge. “What does that mean? Of course a relationship is possible.”

“You’re used to being with three to four women at a time. I’m only one.”

“I know how to count.”

“There’s already so much happening.”

“Not when it comes to us.”

“And—” I gasped as he buried his face into my neck and sucked. “Chase, you’re not. . .going to be able to. . .fuck. . .distract me all the time.”

“We’ll see about that.” He nibbled on the curve of my neck and backed away. “Come on, let’s get you something to eat and then back in bed. You need your rest.”

“The way you’re looking at me right now makes me think you’re not going to let me rest when I get back in bed.”

He licked his lips. “I’ll be good.”

“No you won’t. FYI, there won’t be any sex or anything until my captor, which is you, returns me home.”

He grunted and directed his attention back to my robe’s tie.

“I’m serious,” I muttered.

“I hear you.”

Bullshit.

“Where are we flying to?” I asked.

“Atrani. It’s a small town in Italy where my family is from.”

“Stone is an Italian name?”

“It used to be Stonetti, but my great grandfather changed it.” He put his back to me and grabbed his pajama top on the floor. “Dawn’s and Lucy’s families are from there too. It’s how we all grew up together. Our relatives have been friends for years.”

I cringed at the sound of their names. Something nagged at the back of my head. “So we’re not just going there for travel?”

“I have to check out something.” He put on his shirt and headed to the door.

“What?”

He paused. “The cops found some bullets in the alley. The pistol they said it came from sounds like one from my father’s collection. He used to keep it at this house. One summer I buried it.”

“And if it’s the same gun?” I trailed behind him as he left the bedroom.

“Then I can check Wendy off the list. The only people who knew where the gun was hidden were Lucy, Dawn, and I. And there would’ve been no reason to dig it up.”

“Why not?”

“Because. . .” An exasperated breath escaped his lips. “When we buried the gun, we buried a dead body with it.”

Chapter 7

JASMINE

Buried a dead body? What does that even mean?

Chase refused to say anything else, gesturing to Troy and Vivian as they walked ahead of us in the small passageway. Weeks ago, they would have been hand in hand as they walked, Troy fondling Vivian’s behind every few steps as if he was afraid it would detach and fly away. Today, space ran between them. Vivian seemed to stumble forward instead of walk. Troy kept his hands closed into fists at his side.

What am I going to do with these two? I wish I could just put this problem on pause and handle the rest.

I hurried my pace. “Hey, guys.”

They both paused and let me catch up to them. Vivian wore short blue shorts with a matching top. Her vanilla skin still had a bright effect, even though darkness probably moved inside of her. Blond strands draped her shoulders and fell down past her hips. Troy took up the rest of the passageway with muscles flexing under caramel skin. His hazel eyes usually glimmered as if full of magic; tonight they radiated stress. He rubbed his newly shaved head and offered me a weak smile.

“Thanks for waiting.” I got in between them enough to not ram us all into the walls, but so that they could hold on to me versus desperately contain their urge to hold on to each other.

Vivian seized my hand and squeezed it. We’d known each other for too long. There was no need to tell her how scared her attempt at suicide had made me. She had to see the hurt and confusion in my eyes. I tightened my grip on her, and she nodded and looked away. Patting my shoulder, Troy couldn’t bring his large frame to my side in the small passageway and stayed behind us as we made it into the front compartment of the plane.

The walls vibrated on our sides. My ears popped with air pressure and then resumed to normalcy only to experience that strange plane-riding effect again. In front of me, an enduring fragrance called to my stomach and dishes clinked up ahead. I inhaled that delicious perfume and picked up my step. A smart person could admit that I had a lot to battle with in these upcoming days—someone wanted me dead, Chase craved more from me than I was sure I could give, and Troy and Vivian were having too much difficulty picking themselves up after being knocked down by a major blow. But anyone who knew me best understood my favorite motto—food can solve it all.

Let’s test this theory out today.

Seconds later I sat at the table in the ’area where Chase held emergency conference meetings.

Dear God. Chase won’t be getting any, but I may be introducing Chef Dubois to the Mile-High Club.

The most exquisite food decorated with glamour.
The essence of fine cuisine lay before my eyes—a square cut of meat, maybe lamb, so crisp it sparkled and sizzled. Thin slices of savory fois gras stacked on top of creamy mounds of truffle risotto. Plump cherry tomatoes rested on figs, greens, and gorgonzola. A top bottle of wine sat uncorked, reeking a sensual aroma that made me stir in my seat.

It was going to be a perfect meal. I could die after this one, just lay my fat belly down and smile as life ended.

Yet no one touched the food. Chase sipped his wine, stole worried glances at my injured arm, and tapped his fingers over and over on the table. Troy did his best to never look Vivian’s way. And she, my newly discovered sister, watched her plate with an expression that thickened the space around me with gloom. Her hospital bracelet was still on her wrist. Usually, Vivian bopped around barefoot and free like a typical hippy blonde. Art was her passion, marijuana and running her hobbies. Since Vivian had discovered that the love of her life was her brother, my old friend had withered away. This new Vivian sat quiet most nights and wept in her room on the others.

She caught me watching her and frowned. “Are we going to deal with the elephant in the room?”

“Which one?” Troy poured himself a glass of wine.

“I say we let the elephants rest for this trip.” Chase circled his risotto with his fork. “By the way, how is your food, Jasmine?”

“I haven’t tried anything yet.”

Vivian continued to stare at me. “Where are we going?”

“Apparently, this is a trip to Italy.” I turned to glare at Chase.

“What?” Troy exchanged glances with me. “Why are you giving him that signature Jasmine pinched look?”

“I don’t have a signature look.”

“Yes, you do. You pull up the tip of your nose like that.” He pointed at my nose as if I could see it with no problem. “It’s like you smelled something bad and then you squint your little eyes like someone cares if you’re in a bad mood.”

“I have no look.”

Troy sucked his teeth and turned to Chase. “What’s up with Jazz?”

“Apparently, I’m in trouble.” Chase sipped his wine.

I twisted to Troy. “Were you aware that I’m on here without giving Chase my permission to leave the country?”

Wrinkles formed in the middle of Troy’s head. “Yes. I was aware. You think I would let him take you out of the hospital if I didn’t know that? And don’t start throwing that signature look at me. I helped him so you wouldn’t get shot again.”

“Leaving the country is not going to protect me. His whole harem has money. If they want to, they can buy a ticket to freaking Italy to shoot me.”

Chase raised one hand. “I would like the record to show that I no longer have a harem.”

I pointed at him. “You’re not funny.”

“And you’re not eating.” He gestured to my plate. “Try it.”

“Stop trying to distract me with food. I’m not hungry,” I said through clenched teeth. My stomach betrayed me and growled.

Shut it. We’re being stubborn to make a point. I think.

The door on my side opened. A tall man stepped in the room, keeping his head low, probably so as not to bump the ceiling. Gray hair outlined his temples. On television, Chef Dubois appeared younger and more polished. In person, wrinkles and pink splotches dotted his face. “What’s this? Why aren’t you all eating?”