Surrender (17 page)

“W
ho taught you how to gamble so well, Ashton?”

Ashton’s laugh, soft and sexy, rumbled low in his chest. “Becoming a sore loser, are we?” he asked as he lifted his gaze from the cards he held in his hand to look at Netherland. The two of them were sitting Indian-style across from each other on the floor in front of the fireplace as they played a game of spades.

Netherland shrugged, grinning. “No, that’s not it. You’re beating me at a game I thought I was good at. How about giving me some slack.”

“Sorry, I play to win.”

He had leaned forward and had unknowingly given Netherland a whiff of his manly scent. For a moment she was tempted to throw the cards down
and have her way with him. Again. “I figured you did, and you still haven’t answered my question.”

He smiled. “My father taught me. The Cherokees, like a number of Native Americans, own several casinos. My family owns two.”

“No wonder you’re good at it then.” She leaned back on her arms. “It’s getting hot in here. You don’t mind if I take off my blouse, do you?”

Ashton regarded her with a smooth grin. “Not at all. Help yourself.”

Netherland hesitated a moment, but only a moment before unbuttoning her blouse and tossing it aside.

Ashton had watched her every move. “Feel better?”

She smiled at him as she reached up and pushed a strand of hair from her face. “Yes. Much better.”

“Had I known you wouldn’t mind getting out of your clothes, I would have suggested that we play strip poker.”

Netherland laughed as she went back to studying her hand. “Why? You’ve seen me without clothes several times over the past few days.”

“Yeah, but each time is better than the last, and I discover something new. Like yesterday for instance when I noticed that butterfly tattooed on your right inner thigh.”

Netherland sighed as she remembered just how he had discovered her small secret. A sensation of simmering heat passed through her with the memory. She felt hot again. Without saying anything she removed her bra.

“Are you trying to mess with my concentration, Netherland?”

She smiled up at him. “Whatever gave you that idea?”

He slowly dragged his gaze away from the sight of her bare breasts back up to her face. “You should know by now that I’m a breast man.”

“I thought you were a leg man.”

“That, too. And as you discovered yesterday, I also enjoy thighs.”

The passion in his voice sizzled through her. “Easy, Ashton, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you were getting aroused.”

“And if I didn’t know any better I’d think you were deliberately trying to arouse me.”

“Would I do that?”

“Yes.”

“You’re right. I would,” she confessed, shivering at the intensity in the dark eyes looking at her. She wondered if there would ever come a time where she would get enough of this man. She doubted it. No matter how many times they made love, she always wanted more of him. And although she had very little experience on which to base a comparison she knew that he wasn’t like most men. For one thing, he had the stamina of a bull.

“I don’t want to play cards anymore,” Ashton said, placing his cards aside.

Netherland’s hand stilled on her own cards and
she looked up at Ashton, and into his dark, heated gaze. “Then what do you want to do?”

“Mate.”

Netherland watched as Ashton closed the distance between them on all fours. He looked like a wolf stalking his prey, and the sound coming from deep within his throat was an actual growl. He came to a stop when he was directly in front of her. “I like mating with you, Netherland.” He whispered the words seconds before dipping his head and claiming her mouth, tumbling them backward onto the floor.

Desperate need coiled within Netherland with every stroke of Ashton’s tongue as he made love to her mouth. Little whimpering sounds came from deep in her throat when he intensified their kiss. And his hands, she couldn’t help but notice, were busy doing other things. They were touching her everywhere, caressing her breasts and fumbling with her panties underneath her skirt.

“Ashton!” His name came out on a gasp when she felt the heat of his fingers come in contact with the essence of her womanly heat. Touching. Exploring. Stroking.

Ashton broke the kiss long enough to remove the rest of Netherland’s clothing and all of his own. “I can’t seem to get enough of you, sweetheart,” he whispered as he went back to her and began attacking her lips again. And then he pressed her flat on her back onto the floor, parting her legs as he moved over her and positioning himself between her thighs.
Slipping his hand beneath her, he lifted her hips slightly and drove himself into her.

His mouth came down on hers the moment their bodies joined, and they began mating. She dug her fingernails into his shoulders and hung on as he made one powerful thrust after another into her body, over and over.

The sensation of Ashton moving in and out of her body as well as the feel of her breasts rubbing against his chest stimulated her entire body beyond belief. She was about to shatter into a million tiny pieces from the experience. But Ashton wouldn’t let her. He was intent on claiming her body and reminding her that what they shared was priceless, special and exceptional.

“Ashton,” she whispered, arching into him when she felt she could not hold on any longer. “Now!”

“Not yet!” was his response before burying his face in the curve of her neck and increasing the tempo of their mating. He was drowning in a sea of passionate ecstasy as much as she was, but he refused to ask for a life preserver. He wanted to keep himself, rock solid, in the warmth of her soft depths a while longer. Never before had he felt this way with any woman, this amazing connection that he and Netherland shared.

Netherland groaned when she looked up and saw raw need shimmering deep in Ashton’s eyes. And then her body hammered with an urgency that demanded immediate satisfaction.

Ashton’s body suddenly felt that same need. He
plunged into Netherland one final time, exploding inside of her, pushing himself deeper and deeper. He felt her shatter in his arms and knew that at that moment they both had surrendered—to each other, to their bodies, their minds, their spirits.

Even with the turbulence they had just experienced, they were at peace.

Anthony Roberts heard the sound; his cue that everything was in place. He had gotten his cell mate, a man doing ten years for armed robbery, to agree to keep the guards in the dark for as long as he could. It had been easy to swipe the guard uniform out of the laundry room two days before. It had been a perfect size and fit. No one paid him any particular attention when he had walked out the front gate a free man. Lamar had been right on time with the stolen car he’d left for him in the parking lot. No one would have thought to look for a stolen vehicle—in of all places—the parking lot of a prison.

A few minutes later he was driving toward his destination. There were two women who would pay for causing him so much grief. First he would take care of that hotshot attorney and then he would give his wife a taste of his own special brand of torture.

Ashton was having another vision.

He was standing in a forest under the bright blue sky, yet all around him a fire blazed out of control.
The smell of smoke was scorching his nostrils, the heat from the flames was parching the bottom of his feet. His body ached with the tiredness he felt but somehow he forced himself to move on. He had taken a few steps and realized he couldn’t move another inch. He didn’t have the strength to do so. Then from a distance he heard Netherland call his name, and he tried to gather all his strength to continue, to move forward, away from the fire, toward the sound of her voice, but it was too late. Flames surrounded him. He was trapped.

Ashton jumped and sat straight up in bed. His body was covered in sweat, and his heart was beating three times its normal rate. He took a deep breath. For the first time he had broken away from his vision before he determined the outcome. Had he made it out of the fiery hell he’d been trapped in? Had he made it back to Netherland?

He wiped a shaky hand across his face wondering what this particular vision had meant. He glanced over at Netherland. She was still sleeping soundly, peacefully. Needing to hold her, he lay back down and gently pulled her into his arms and held her cradled against his chest.

The sleep that overtook him a few minutes later was not a peaceful one.

Clayton Madaris slid the manila folder, thick with documents, across the table to his wife. “This is the last one we need to discuss tonight. We have a
hearing in the judge’s chamber Friday morning. What did you think after reviewing it?”

Syneda leaned back in her chair and met her husband’s inquiring gaze. “That we don’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of winning. Harold Kingston is as guilty of embezzlement as Nixon was of Watergate. I suggest we convince him to plead guilty and go for a lesser sentence.”

Clayton smiled. “I disagree. I suggest he plead not guilty and take his chances.”

Syneda lifted a brow. “Why?”

“I enjoy a good fight with the prosecution every now and then.”

Syneda shrugged as she rose to her feet. “Suit yourself. Since it seems that we aren’t going to agree on anything tonight, I suggest we call it a day.”

Clayton shook his head, grinning. “On that I do agree.”

A few moments later they were walking out of the office building where their law practice was located. Since Clayton had made plans to drop by the barbershop after work, they had driven separate cars. “I’ll see you at home in a couple of hours?” Syneda asked, turning to her husband.

“Maybe less if Mr. P’s isn’t crowded.” Clayton leaned over and placed a kiss on her lips. “Think your tummy can handle Chinese food tonight?” Since her pregnancy certain foods didn’t agree with her stomach.

“I prefer barbecue.”

Clayton smiled. “Then barbecue it is.”

“The thin end.”

Clayton shook his head, grinning. “All right, sweetheart. Drive carefully.”

He watched as Syneda began crossing the parking garage to her car. He heard the revving of a car’s engine the same time Syneda did and saw the vehicle aiming straight toward her.

“Syneda! Look out!”

Reacting on instinct to protect both the woman and the unborn child he loved, Clayton moved with lightning speed toward Syneda, who seemed to have frozen in place, like a deer caught in headlights. In desperation Clayton pounced upward like a panther and jumped toward her, pushing her out of the way just seconds before the car collided with his body, knocking him backward.

“Good night, Rainey.”

“Good night, Jada. Are you sure you don’t need a ride home?”

“Yes. I’m sure. I called a cab earlier. I’ll just wait for it out front.”

Jada walked out of Sisters thinking it was such a pretty night. Rome had left for California earlier that day, and she missed him already. She smiled and stepped aside when a couple entered Sisters holding hands with the look of love sparkling in their eyes. She checked her watch once more. She had called for the cab ten minutes ago. Usually it didn’t take this long for one to come.

She had turned to go back inside to call for another cab when she felt a hand grab her from behind. She began struggling and was about to let out a scream when something that felt like a sock was stuffed into her mouth. She continued to struggle as she felt herself being dragged over to a car whose motor was running. Fear clutched every part of her body when she was shoved inside. When she heard the sound of her attacker’s voice she knew she was about to relive her worst nightmare. Anthony Roberts stared her dead in the face with a crazed look etched in his features.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart? Aren’t you glad to see your husband?”

Ashton knew something was wrong the moment he heard the telephone ring. A quick glance at the clock on the nightstand next to the bed indicated it was two in the morning.

“Colonel Sinclair,” he answered as calmly as he could, pushing himself up in bed.

The phone had also awakened Netherland. She pulled up beside him in bed and looked intently at Ashton. He wasn’t saying anything to the caller but was listening attentively. However, she could tell from the look on his face whatever the caller was saying wasn’t good.

“I’ll be there in a couple of hours,” Ashton said before ending the call and hanging up the phone.

“Military business, Ashton?”

He turned to her. His features displayed no inner conflict whatsoever, but the woman in her, the one who had spent the last five days in his arms, sharing almost everything with him, could feel the internal warfare he was trying like hell to hide. “No, that was Trevor.”

“The baby?” she asked anxiously as her heart skipped a beat.

“Corinthians and the baby are fine. It’s Clayton.”

Netherland’s heart missed another beat. “What about Clayton?”

He reached out and took her hand in his. “He was hit by a car tonight, a car that was aiming straight for Syneda. He pushed her out of the way and took the blow.”