Caress (28 page)

“Feel like a little sport?” Nya called back to him.

“If you’re talking about a race, then I’ll have to warn you that I’m in the prime of my life and that I’ve been swimming since birth.” He waded in next to her. Nya only smiled and they both dived beneath the water. He came up and looked around for her.

“Hi,” she said, laughing from at least twenty feet in front of him.

“What are you, a fish?” Michael called, swimming over to her. He took her hands in his beneath the water.

“No, just an incredible swimmer,” she taunted as she freed her hands and playfully splashed water in his face.

“Oh, you’re in for it now,” Michael yelled and reached beneath the water to lift her and then submerge her all over again.

h

Nya was exhilarated; she hadn’t acted this way since she was a teenager. She rose up from the water laughing so hard she pressed a hand to his dripping chest to steady herself. And then suddenly she sobered. Beneath her palm she could feel the hard muscle of his chest with every breath he took. But instead of pulling away, as she normally would, she moved her hand over his chest, over his rock-hard abdomen. She averted her eyes from his because she was hot with embarrassment, yet unable to stop her sensual exploration. For so long she’d wanted to touch him and had not allowed herself to. Now she would not give up the chance. She raised her other hand and traced down his shoulders, over his arms. She moved around him and touched his back in the same way, placing a soft, wet, salty kiss on his back. His hand shot out to grab hers as he turned around. Unable to control the feelings she was stirring within him, he kissed her, ravaging her mouth, letting her know what she had done to him, holding her close enough that she could not deny his desire. When his kiss subsided, Nya stared blankly at his chest mumbling something about finishing her swim, ducked under the water, and away.

From that moment on, they swam separately, only sparing secret glances at each other until Nya swam up to him and said, “Come on, if you want to help. Let’s go over to the Hatsheput complex to see if we can find those crates.”

“That’s good. I wanted to see the facility from the inside anyway. I never got that chance when I was here the last time. Granted, I do have one thing to be thankful for after this debacle.”

“What’s that?”

”It led me to you.”

Nya sighed. She hadn’t stopped thinking of the sensual torture he’d put her through the night before. She’d touched him in the water, hoping he felt what she felt. Just maybe he did.

“We’ll go by the office first,” Nya directed, waving to a security guard sitting in the little red and blue booth at the front of the twelve-foot-high fence surrounding the Hatsheput grounds. Nya swung her SUV through the gate and pointed to the various buildings. “Over there is the main warehouse; it backs up to the dock. We’ll go there later. You see that longhouse? That’s where the studio is located. And here is the administrative complex.”

She stopped in front of the brick edifice and got out of the SUV. Inside the building, Nya directed Michael down a hall lined with offices. At the end was an office marked as Nyron Seymour’s and another as Elphonse Deklerk’s.

“It’s locked,” Michael said testing Elphonse’s door.

“I have a master key,” Nya told him, producing the key. Unfortunately, it didn’t work in the lock. “Maybe I should ask security if they’ve got one.”

“I doubt it. If it were me, the only person who would have a key would be me.” Then he pulled something dark and shiny out of his pocket. He unfolded the object.

“Michael, what are you doing?” Nya asked behind him.

He shrugged.

“You stop right there, Michael,” Nya said behind him and he looked up. She took the knife he held. “You are not going to break into any of the offices in this building. If it comes to it, I’ll have my dad come down and let us in, but for now, the warehouse is the important part anyway.” She folded the knife and put it in her pocket as she started collecting the other items Michael had left on the floor. She held up his platinum card. “If you want to get any information in this city, this will probably be your best bet.” She handed it to him and proceeded into her father’s office.

Michael followed her reluctantly, thinking that it was worth a try to at least look in the office. However, he wasn’t going to argue with her about it this day. He entered her father’s office and sat down. It was so reminiscent of Nya’s back in Birmingham. He watched her go through the various papers and sticky notes on the desk. Her work was never far from her mind. Uninvited, the question entered his mind. Would she ever spend as much time thinking about him? He just didn’t know how he measured up.

Nya, noticing Michael’s somber mood, asked him, “What’s wrong?”

Michael looked at her for a moment and pondered her question. The compassionate eyes and sincere set of her mouth let him know that she really wanted to know, and so he told her. “Nya, maybe this isn’t the time, but I’d just like to say that it seems like something is going on between us, something good, you know? And I just want to know if you’re ready to give it a chance.”

She remained frozen and silent. All this time she’d spent fighting him, spent pushing him away, she’d still wanted him. Now she had the opportunity, if only she would accept it, to be with him. It had been so long since she’d felt alive if she wasn’t in her office. For so long, her life had had only one focus. Could she change that focus now, when there was so much at stake for the company? After a minute she glanced down again at the notes on her father’s desk, a desk that one day, God willing, would be hers. “You’re right,” she said, averting her gaze. “This is the wrong time to talk about it.”

Michael breathed out heavily, feeling that he had gotten his answer. What she really meant was that she didn’t have time for him, for a relationship, for anything that didn’t have to do with Hatsheput Industries. He looked up at her. Her twists were still loose, drying from earlier that morning. Her lips were wine colored and those tilted, wide eyes with their long lashes made him think of that morning and the way she had kissed him. Suddenly grinning to himself, he was sure that there was at least one way he could get her attention and keep it. No, he wasn’t going to give up that easily, “Well, when the time comes, and it will, just remember that I’m a reporter. The word ‘no’ has very little meaning for me.”

Despite herself Nya smiled radiantly. He was serious and for some reason, deep down inside her, she was unbelievably pleased with his answer. She led Michael out of the office. It wasn’t long before her slender hand was wrapped in his large, strong one. From that point on their conversation was light and a genuine rapport formed between them that made their time pass quickly. They joked easily with one another and to any passerby they looked like a pair of lovers who didn’t care about anything else in the world.

They made their way from the administrative office to the studio. The sun warmed them, and they caught the sweet scent of flowers as they walked. They entered the longhouse and were greeted by the sight of four artists grouped around a canvas and arguing over the merits of acrylic paints. Nya smiled and was welcomed home by all of them with a hug. Michael stiffened slightly when one of the male students held her overly long. Nya only giggled, though, and let the young man lead her over to his sculpture. It was a tall thing with heavy wrought iron arms spiraling out from it. It reminded Michael of a tree he saw once on the cover of a horror novel. Nya seemed extremely impressed by it and Michael wasn’t a bit happy about that. Then he sighed, thinking of how crazy she was making him by only being herself. There was just something about her that made him possessive. Even if she was only insulting, he wanted to be the only one to elicit that much passion from her.

He watched her paying rapt attention to the young artist as he explained where he was trying to go with his sculpture. She was alert and interested in what he was saying and talking excitedly about the young man’s talent. Michael silently stepped back and began to explore the studio. There were a few half-finished works all around: oil paintings, clay molds, even a small batiking area. He moved closer to the wax-covered piece of cloth and looked down to see what was shaping up to be a multi-colored market scene. All of the works were impressive, even in their fledgling stage, and Michael marveled at Hatsheput’s accomplishment in harvesting all this talent. He continued around a corner and looked up to find himself staring head on at a huge canvas of an underwater scene. It was rendered in blues and purples with brightly colored tropical fish. It looked as though there was a reef looming in the background. It pulled the observer in and Michael was instantly compelled by it.

“It’s not very good,” he heard her say behind him. Her voice caressed him as if she had physically touched him.

“Why do you say that?” Michael asked, wondering how Nya could say that about a kid’s work, especially one that made him want to stare at it all day.

“Well, it was really my first try at something complete. It’s not as good as some of my others; that’s partly why I’ve left it here for so long.”

“But it’s beautiful.”

“It’s amateur,” Nya replied, smiling at the painting she’d never been able to get quite right. “The ones at the house are better.”

“At the house?”

“Yeah,” Nya responded, as they started out of the studio. “They’re all around along with those of Ma, Daddy, and Jenine.” Michael gave this some thought, trying to figure which ones were Nya’s. Then he remembered a painting he’d seen at her house in Birmingham.

“The picture in your foyer, across from your mother’s. You did that?”

“Yes, that’s my favorite.” She smiled to herself.

Michael was sure now why Lysette had said that Nyron wanted his daughter to paint. She did have a gift, an undeniable one. This woman was so talented and so beautiful she couldn’t be true, he thought. Her animated, passionate speech was exciting to him as he saw her in her own element. She showed him everything from studio to the loading dock, from the front office to the janitorial quarters, and she knew everything, absolutely all the answers to any of the questions he asked about Hatsheput. She was also on a first-name basis with all the employees, vowing to take care of this grievance and that as soon as possible. She’d seen a door open in the warehouse that was to be locked at all times because it provided alternate entrance into the building and she had immediately given the order to have it fixed right away. He had always known she was a business dynamo, but to actually watch her at work was something. She deserved this company more than anybody. She deserved her life.

That turned Michael’s thoughts to a graver issue: Rinaldo Mandolesi. The more time Michael spent with Nya, the less he could stand the thought of her putting herself in danger at the hands of Rinaldo Mandolesi. They hadn’t talked much about what they were going to do about him. They hadn’t, in fact, discussed him since leaving the plane, and Michael was beginning to worry. The more he thought about it, the more he knew that they were in over their heads. He had to find some way to make Nya see reason.

Together they made their way through the warehouse, where they searched for the missing crates. Unfortunately, they found nothing. They decided to go home and regroup.

h

Nya sat on the sofa and smiled when he sat next to her.

The day had been so perfect, reminding Michael of another nearly perfect time, that day in the Hatsheput Galleries. Maybe, just maybe, if his luck held on, she would consider what he had to say. “Nya, I’ve been thinking,” he started. Hesitantly, gently, he told her, “I think this may be too big for us. You and I both know how dangerous Mandolesi is, and I think that’s all the more reason to call in the big guns. Maybe if you talk to your father—”

He winced at the loud intake of breath. “Talk to my father?”

“Listen to me, Nya. You don’t have to do this by yourself. You don’t have to figure this out alone. You can go to the police. You can go to the FBI. You could at least go to your father. He loves you and he loves this company. I’m sure he’ll know what’s best—”

“And I don’t?” she demanded. “I don’t know what’s best?”

“Nya, I just think, no, I
know
you can’t do this alone. You don’t need to do this alone. No one will tell you you’ve failed if you just let this be handled properly.” She didn’t say anything, only turned from him. He hoped that meant she was softening. He neared her, laying his hands on her shoulders. “It’s not a secret how I feel about you—”

“It isn’t?” she asked, capturing his gaze with her own.

Michael was halted for a moment, but thought it was about time everything was out in the open. “You are part of everything in my life right now. I know you understand and I think you care about me, too. But the only way we can ever give this a chance, give us a chance, is if you trust me. If you finally let yourself be human, let yourself feel, and admit that you need help.”

She spun around, facing him with anguish lining her face, making her eyes glisten. “Michael, you just don’t understand.”

“I understand that while Hatsheput Industries is important, it’s not the only thing. What you want is important.” He pressed the palm of her hand to his heart. “What we have is important. And your
safety
is important.”