Sweet, seductive…and off-limits!

One rule has always worked for Elias Joss: keep your rivals close…but not too close. He didn’t bring his family’s construction company to new heights and incredible success by being naive. The only way he survived his playboy father’s indiscretions was by learning to be careful and guarded. With his life all about work, there’s just no room for play—especially when it comes to a certain too-tempting siren.

Nightclub owner Clarissa David is downright shocked to be attracted to Elias. Especially since their families share a scandalous past. Still, desire this strong can’t be denied. Can Clarissa show him that the ruthless rules of business should never apply to love?

Clarissa found herself set high against a wall with Elias Joss’s broad, hard frame snuggled in against her. His hand loosely cuffed her neck, preventing her from speaking.

“None of what you said has anything to do with why I turned them down.” He lowered his eyes to watch the rise and set of her bosom against his wrist. “No contact with you doesn’t interest me.”

Clarissa blinked rapidly.

Elias watched the changing expressions on her face as she worked to accept the meaning of his words and abrupt actions.

“We’ll be working together,” she said in an attempt to warn him of imminent drama. Her voice held a weak, unconvincing tone and she shuddered over not being able to manage more.

Elias nodded slowly several times then started kissing Clarissa.

She took the kiss, trying hard not to give anything in return. The pressure of his tongue testing the texture of hers was maddening and stirred all sorts of sensations that she wanted to lose herself in. He abandoned her tongue to trail his across the ridge of her teeth. Then, he outlined the shape of her mouth before starting the kiss all over again.

AlTONYA WASHINGTON

has been a romance novelist for nearly a decade. Her novel Finding Love Again won the RT Book Reviews Reviewer’s Choice Award for Best Multicultural Romance in 2004. She lives in North Carolina and recently received her master’s degree in library science. As T. Onyx, AlTonya released her third erotica title Pleasure’s Powerhouse in 2011. Her latest Harlequin Kimani titles include Texas Love Song, first in the Lone Star Seduction series, which was released June 2012. The series title was followed by His Texas Touch in July. That year also marked the release of the fourteenth title in her popular Ramsey/Tesano Saga, A Lover’s Sin.

Provocative Territory

AlTonya Washington

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Dear Reader,

Elias and Clarissa’s story came in segments. Usually, I’m more settled about how characters will maneuver their way through the story line. That didn’t happen here. I was intrigued by the introduction, the meeting between the hero and heroine, first impressions…yet I wasn’t altogether settled on how the subplot would parallel the relationship being built. As I continued to write, the characters seemed to dictate their roles. As I allowed Elias and Clarissa to dictate, I was awed by how this story began to flow. I even tweeted about it a month into writing the book! This was a very enjoyable world and story line for me to create. I hope you’ll enjoy it as well.

Currently, I’m wearing my T. Onyx hat and working on the sequel to Ruler of Perfection.

Find out more about it and other projects by visiting my redesigned website, www.lovealtonya.com. Email me at altonya@lovealtonya.com.

Blessings,

AlTonya

To my fabulous readers.

Thanks for letting me do what I do!

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 1

“I’m on my way...yes, yes. I promise I’ll be there soon. What? Yes, yes, Terence was on time.” Clarissa David spoke firmly yet softly into her phone’s tiny receiver. Glancing toward the front of the town car, she sent a playful wave to the chauffeur who was enjoying a laugh over the conversation.

“You tell Terry not to take any of those back roads he likes to use.” The female voice through the phone line was a stern one, but it was laced with a husky undercurrent, which brought a sensual element to the woman’s tone.

“Auntie, I promise Terence is running all kinds of lights to get me there.”

“You tell him to be careful, you hear?”

Clarissa’s lashes settled down over her eyes as she winced, at once regretting the attempt at humor. “I was only teasing. He’s being very careful.” That time, Clarissa merely shook her head in Terence’s direction.

The makings of a frown began to nudge the arch of Clarissa’s brows. Of course she was used to her aunt’s protective nature but even this was a bit much.

“Aunt Jaz, can’t you at least give me a hint of what you need to talk about?” Clarissa worked hard to keep the frustration out of her voice.

“No, I can’t!” Jazmina Beaumont’s clipped phrase was punctuated by a low sigh. “Baby, no, I can’t. I’m already taking a chance with having Terry bring you out here to see me about this.”

“You know I’m starting to worry, right?” Clarissa’s question harbored the same clipped tone Jaz had used earlier.

“Oh, don’t do that. I promise you I’m not losin’ my last bit of sense just yet but this ain’t somethin’ I want to talk about over the phone. Now stop asking questions and just get here.”

“All right Auntie, all right. Calm down and I’ll be there soon.”

Jazmina expressed another low sigh. “I love you, baby.”

The connection ended before Clarissa could return the sentiment. Regrettably, she didn’t have long to mull over the particulars of the conversation. Terence was announcing their arrival just outside Philadelphia, at the stop Clarissa had asked him to make en route to her aunt’s home.

“Terry, has Aunt J seemed short-tempered lately?” Clarissa asked absently while tucking her phone back into the beige leather tote she carried.

Terence Egerton laughed, the robust sound filling the car’s spacious dark cabin. “You mean more short-tempered than she usually is?”

“Yeah.” Clarissa’s agreement carried on a gust of abrupt laughter. “She didn’t sound quite like herself just now, though.”

“Probably the usual mess. Maybe a little more of it.” Terence drew to a halt, flashing the high beams to instruct a car facing him to go ahead with its left turn. “You know she’s about to start that construction for the remodeling and then she’s got them nosy committee people houndin’ her about that award,” he said.

Clarissa’s laughter sounded more genuine. “You sound just like her!”

Terence scrunched his nose. “Now why am I not sure that’s a compliment?”

Clarissa continued to laugh.

* * *

“So what lucky lady you planning on taking to the Reed House Jazz Supper in November?”

Elias Joss stood working his thumb against his palm in deep circular motions. “Looks like I’ll be goin’ alone since my date stood me up,” he told his tailor.

Stanford Crothers chuckled while taking the measurements of Elias’s inseam. “You sound put out over it.” His observation carried a teasing element.

Elias couldn’t help his grin. “It’s not a boost to a man’s ego to be stood up by his own mother.” He managed to fake an agitated tone.

“Never took you for a mama’s boy, kid.”

“Stan, I swear, if you keep on rubbin’ this in—”

“What? You’ll tell her to turn me down, too?”

Elias laughed long and loudly with the man who would be escorting his mother to the annual dinner for the organization that benefitted Philadelphia’s elderly.

“So has Lilia been talkin’ about our date?” Stanford queried. He was seated on a stool where he worked on the cuffs of the trousers. At Eli’s laughter rising again, the man gave a slow shake of his head which was covered by a neat salt-and-pepper afro. “So much hate,” Stan groaned. “I won’t force you to admit your mama’s got herself a real catch.”

“Whew.” Eli feigned relief. “Yeah, Stan, thanks for not makin’ me admit that.”

“Sure thing, ’cause it’s so sad when a younger man has to admit he don’t have what it takes.”

“I swear.” Eli rolled his eyes and pretended to be at his limit with Stan’s needling. “Having a suit made just isn’t the pampering experience that it once was.”

“Aah, kid, there’s always the rack,” Stan sang.

“Or another tailor,” Eli playfully threatened.

“They’d never find the body.”

The phone interrupted the laughter between the two men when its ringing emerged from somewhere in the depths of the downtown shop.

“Saved by the bell,” Eli cheered.

“Watch those pins,” Stan cautioned, pressing his hands to his thighs and pushing himself from the stool. “Be back in a jiff.”

Elias stepped down from the raised platform and padded around the room in his socks. Cloth swatches were pinned to the suit pattern adorning his tall, broad frame. Left on his own, he was soon at work with his phone—checking the emails and texts that had come through during the forty-five minutes of the tailoring appointment.

Elias was perusing his missed messages when the sound of humming wafted down from the wrought iron staircase that snaked into Stan’s parlor from the sales floor of Crothers’s Apparel and Alterations.

At first, Eli only idly listened to the vaguely familiar tune. He was still pretty involved with the phone. As the volume of the humming rose however, his attention veered toward the direction of the sound.

When a dainty pair of tan platform pumps appeared on the landing of the stairwell and Eli caught sight of the legs they were attached to, the phone was forgotten.

Slowly, he strolled closer. Sadly, further insight on the owner of the shapely stems was thwarted by the overhang of the wall.

The humming quieted. “Stan?”

Elias stepped back from the staircase and waited.

“Stan?”

Eli heard her call out again, watching as she made her way into the tailoring parlor.

“Stan?”

He heard the soft call once more as she took the last step down. Elias Joss’s greenish-blue eyes gazed at the woman who left the stairs as though she were taking a light stroll. Her unhurried steps echoed faintly on the parlor’s walnut flooring while she angled her head in an array of poses during her search for the proprietor.

Elias didn’t bother to make his presence known. No doubt she would notice him soon. It had never been easy for him to blend into the shadows, so he had never tried.

Besides, Eli thought, the woman in his line of sight clearly had her mind set on seeking out Stan. Her steps picked up trace amounts of speed and sound as she searched around corners and the tall racks of clothing cluttering the fitting room.

Elias appreciated her preoccupation, for it allowed him the chance to observe her unaware. The phone vibrated once in his hand to signal a new text or email coming through. It was promptly ignored.

Using one word to describe Elias Joss, it would have to have been workaholic. Elias smiled at the familiar dig his partners never failed to sing in his presence. They knew him well enough, however, to agree that work always took a backseat when the opportunity arose to conduct an appraisal of the feminine form.

And this one certainly demanded a closer, longer look Elias decided. His uncommon gaze surveyed the abundant curves beneath the provocatively cut dress gloving the woman’s Coke-bottle frame. Elias found himself appreciating the day’s forecast. The chill of autumn had not yet set in and many were enjoying the unseasonable warmth of the climate.

The dress on Stanford’s appealing visitor was appropriate enough for business wear yet Eli surmised that the woman in his midst couldn’t have managed strictly business wear if she tried. Her body simply would not allow for that.

She wasn’t quite short enough to be classed as such. He seriously wondered if the fullness of her ample bottom and bustline would even allow her to shop in the petite section. Elias cleared his throat to mask a softer, more basic sound which was gathering there. Subtle nudges of arousal were beginning to rattle his hormones.

* * *

The throat being cleared in the distance caught Clarissa David’s ear and she turned suddenly, expecting to find Stanford Crothers. The man who met her gaze instead literally stopped her.

Taking a moment to size him up was the obvious next move. He definitely merited a closer, longer look. It was then that she heard the warning call of her name resounding in her head. The tone was reminiscent of the one Clarissa’s aunt used whenever Clarissa had said, done or was contemplating doing something that would make her look like a fool. Besides, she had more important things to take care of than drooling over one of her tailor’s clients. She did make a move toward the stranger, though. Perhaps he could help her locate the man in question.

“Hello.” Clarissa nodded as she stepped closer and was again stopped by the extraordinary color of the stranger’s eyes. The blue-green orbs against the warm, rich caramel color of his complexion was an interesting mix.

Okay this was just unfair, Clarissa issued the silent complaint. How was she not supposed to drool over this guy when he was a walking enticement?

Clarissa... The warning tone resumed inside her head. Still, she indulged in a few additional moments of appraising the silent stranger’s unquestionably captivating face and broad frame.

“I’m looking for Stanford Crothers,” she said eventually. “Is he anywhere around? His staff sent me down.” Clarissa pointed toward the ceiling to indicate the main floor of the shop.

She waited a beat before tilting her head a fraction. The stranger was taking his time about answering. Clarissa found herself celebrating the fact that she wasn’t the only one having trouble talking.

Elias’s silence was due mainly to the fact that he was standing there cursing himself over his rotten luck. The woman with the provocative body had an even more provocative face framed by the chic cut of her dark hair. It was who that exceptional face reminded him of that had him scrutinizing the current state of his misfortune.

Thankfully, Stanford was returning to the cutting room floor. Elias shifted his gaze, barely tilting his head in silent reply to Clarissa’s query.

Understandably curious about the stranger’s demeanor, Clarissa forced her mind back to her purpose for being there. She looked in the direction the man had glanced and her smile held more than its fair share of relief when she saw Stan.

Stan, equally thrilled to see Clarissa, spread his arms wide. “Sunshine!” he greeted while enveloping her in a bear hug.

“Stan.” Clarissa closed her eyes while cherishing the squeeze. “Sorry for just dropping in. I didn’t mean to interrupt you with a customer.” She glanced toward Elias, who had been observing the exchange between her and Stan.

“Nonsense,” Stan balked, leaning back to smile down at Clarissa. “Never an interruption when it’s you.” His expression changed a bit as his eyes shifted between the two younger people. “Have you two met?” he asked.

Clarissa shook her head. Elias merely looked over at Stan before bringing his gaze again to Clarissa.

“Well, then.” Stan took Clarissa’s arm and led her over to remedy the situation. “This is Miss Clarissa David.”

“David,” Elias repeated, a slight surprise holding his rich voice.

Perceptive to a fault, Clarissa’s expression took on a knowing element. “Were you expecting a different last name? Perhaps Beaumont?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you look like her? Like Jazmina Beaumont?” Eli questioned in a tone that was half awed and partly accusing.

“Well, Clarissa should be the image of the woman!” Stan’s bellowing intruded. “She’s her aunt.”

Elias responded with a lengthy nod as though he were resigning himself to the fact.

“And you are?” Clarissa prompted.

“Sorry, Clarissa, this is Mr. Elias Joss.”

It was Clarissa’s turn to ease her curiosity. “Are you related to Joss Construction?”

“Started by his daddy back in the seventies.” Stanford’s information sharing showed no signs of quelling.

Clarissa’s dusky brown eyes narrowed a tad as she appeared to be assessing the new detail, but she made no additional comment. Instead, she turned to Stan. “By any chance is my dress ready?”

“Lordy me.” Stan laid a hand against the soft salt-and-pepper whiskers that dusted the lower half of his face. “Did I miss a deadline?”

“Oh, no, no, Stan, nothing like that.” Clarissa’s head shake warded off the man’s concerns. “I was on this end for another meeting so I thought I’d stop by and check on it before heading out to Jaz’s for a long weekend.”

Stan rubbed his whiskers. “Well, there’s some stitching that needs to be completed but I expect that’ll be done in time for a Tuesday delivery before closing.”

“Oh, that’s perfect.” Clarissa clasped her hands but winced. “Are you sure it won’t put you behind with your other clients?” She chanced a look at Elias Joss who still regarded her with unreadable eyes.

Stan threw up a hand to wave dismissively. “You don’t even worry your pretty li’l self over that, you hear?”

“Thanks, Stan.” Clarissa was beaming once again. “I hate to rush off, but you know how Jaz can get.”

“That’s one lady who doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” Stanford chuckled, his kind hazel eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’ll have the dress sent to the hotel. You’re at the Peabody, right?” he asked, citing the name of the hotel where Clarissa stayed whenever she visited from California.

“You got it.” Clarissa moved close to hug Stan again. He gave her a squeeze when she kissed his cheek.

Pulling back from Stan, Clarissa sighed and looked over at Eli. “Nice meeting you, Mr. Joss,” she lied in a subdued tone.

“Sweet li’l thing,” Stan complimented once Clarissa had gone. “It’s a wonder some cat hasn’t taken her off the market.”

Elias smirked. “Has she ever been on the market?” His question was rhetorical. Like most people in Philadelphia, he knew of Jazmina Beaumont as well as her place of business. Until today, he’d never seen or met the woman’s niece.

Stanford’s laughter came as a huge burst of sound. “Well, if you ask Jaz Beaumont, the answer would be an emphatic ‘Hell no!’”

“She’s the protective type?”

“That’s puttin’ it a might subtle, kid.” Stan glanced toward the staircase Clarissa had taken up and out of the shop. He shrugged, saying, “Guess it’s understandable. In Jaz Beaumont’s biz, she’s seen all kinds. Makes sense she’d wanna protect her sister’s kid from it.”

Elias returned to the raised platform where Stan had been taking his measurements. “I wonder if looking so much like her aunt gets her in trouble.”

Stan nodded while making note of a measurement on the pad he’d pulled from the burgundy smock he wore. “That answer would be an emphatic ‘Hell yeah.’ Ain’t easy bearing the face of a woman who’s been successful at sleepin’ with most of the married or attached men in town.”

“Guess not...” Elias muttered.

Stan realized the weight of what he’d just said. “Sorry, kid, that was truly crass.”

Elias clapped Stan’s shoulder. “Crass but true,” he said in a reassuring drawl.

Stan nodded and Elias withdrew into his thoughts, wondering if he’d just treated Clarissa David in a less-than-polite manner because of her aunt’s history. It was, of course, a history he knew more about than he cared to admit.

“I believe I got everything I need, son,” Stan was announcing as he closed his measurements pad.

“So she doesn’t live in Philly?” Elias almost didn’t recognize his own voice. He cleared his throat and made a pretense of studying his phone while leaving the platform. He put it in the pocket of his walnut-brown jacket when Stan fixed him with a curiously comical look.

“Only off and on when she does business for her aunt.” Stan decided not to question Elias’s reason for asking. “She has a place out in California somewhere,” he added.

“Hard not to be interested in a curvy beauty like that, huh?” Stan finally queried Eli’s motives while observing the younger man knowingly.

Eli only shrugged. “So when can I expect my suits?”

“Right.” Stan understood and silenced any further questions regarding Clarissa David. “Time frame’ll be same as usual, Mr. Joss.”

Eli grinned. Stan only addressed him as ‘Mr. Joss’ when he thought his client was being pompous. At any rate, Eli went over to shake hands with the man.

“Have my mother home by midnight,” Elias ordered in pretend gruffness.

Laughter rumbled again between the two men. Soon, Stan was clapping Eli’s shoulder and telling him that he’d see him around.

Chapter 2

“Now’s just as good a time as any,” Desmond Wallace kept his voice low as he spoke into the phone. “He’s humming.”

“Right.” Desmond had to confirm what he’d just told the person on the other end of the line. “He came in humming. How often does that happen?...Right.” Desmond ended the call and then headed for his boss’s office.

At the door, Desmond applied a soft knock to the wide slab of mahogany and waited.

“Yeah.” The quick reply was an invitation.

“What’s up, boss? How’d the fitting go?”

“Stan’s getting ornery in his old age,” Eli said in response to Desmond’s cheery greeting.

“Ornery.” Desmond laughed over the word when Elias grinned. “That sounds pretty bad.”

“Worse than bad. But he’s my mom’s problem now.”

“Oh?” Desmond lifted a bushy brow.

“He’s taking her to the Reed House Jazz Supper in three and a half weeks,” Eli explained.

“I’m impressed you’d allow that and haven’t threatened the man with bodily harm over even looking at Miss Lil,” Desmond chided, referencing Eli’s mother, Lilia Joss.

“I told him to have her home by midnight. I’d say that signifies progress.”

“Indeed,” Desmond mused, silently acknowledging that folks often thought twice before they even asked Elias Joss about the weather. For the man to allow someone to date his mother with ease was definite progress for the serious, sometimes unnerving, entrepreneur.

Desmond often marveled over the number of friends Elias Joss could claim. Desmond himself had almost turned tail and run the day he met Elias for a job interview. Desmond would wager he didn’t swallow a quarter of the food ordered during their lunch.

Still, somehow Elias had an uncanny knack for drawing people in. He could set them just enough at ease to allow him to determine whether they were worth his time. The technique definitely worked its magic on Desmond, and Eli was pleased enough to take him on as a personal assistant.

Even so, it was no mistake to label Eli as a workaholic loner. While his disconcerting demeanor never tipped the scales completely over to menacing, there was the element of unease he could instill that not many dared to rouse.

“You had a few visitors that weren’t on the books,” Desmond announced, shuffling through the message slips he’d brought into the office. He passed them to Eli. “Maybe we could set some face time with them during the next week. And Mr. Rodriguez and Mr. Brooks are on their way over.”

“Crap, what’d I do now?” Elias murmured absently while he scanned the messages that Desmond had taken. His partners Santigo Rodriguez and Linus Brooks had also been his friends since nursery school.

“They have some papers that they need you to take a look at. They’ve been wanting to schedule some time for a few days now.”

“A few days.” Eli was still browsing through the messages. “Takes that long to make it across the hall, huh?”

Desmond smiled at the sarcasm. The three men each had corner offices on the top floor of the striking black downtown skyscraper.

“They’ll need to square away more than a few minutes to talk to you about this,” Desmond said.

Harboring his own share of rapt perception, Elias took note of his assistant’s tone of voice. “So what’s up?” he asked, leaning back in the large gray armchair behind his desk.

“They should really be the ones to talk to you about this, boss.”

Rolling his eyes, Eli grimaced at Desmond’s stance. This wasn’t going to be a conversation he’d enjoy.

“So is this it?” Eli waved the message slips and opted against forcing Desmond to share the reasons for his partner’s visit.

“Uh...” Desmond’s dreads hid his face when he bowed his head. He looked even less thrilled about sharing the next order of business and appeared as though he’d been delivered when a quick rap fell to the door before it was pushed open a tad wider.

Linus Brooks walked in with Santigo Rodriguez close behind. Elias observed his partners with a mix of curiosity and amusement. The three of them had been friends since before any of them knew how to put together a sentence. As an only child, Eli had considered them the brothers he’d never had.

Santigo Rodriguez wore a smile even when he was fit to be tied out of rage. The trait often proved to be rather disturbing, for one could never truly track Tigo’s moves. That aspect of the man’s personality proved quite handy though at the negotiating table.

Linus Brooks was almost Tigo’s exact opposite. Linus’s most distinguishing characteristic had to be his stinging, outspoken nature. The man wore his emotions and opinions on his sleeve, but always made a point of verbalizing them to ensure they were communicated.

The curiosity lurking in Eli’s bright gaze gradually gave way to more curiosity. That day may have been the first time in...ever that both men wore twin expressions...of unease.

“Two things,” Linus began once the door had closed behind Desmond’s hastily departing figure.

Eli rocked back in the gray leather and suede chair behind his beech wood desk and spread his hands urging his partner to continue.

Linus cleared his throat first, saying, “Cleveland Echols is putting his project on hold.”

The news nudged some of Eli’s curiosity out of the way to make room for confusion. “The framework and foundation have already been laid, right?” He watched his partners display solemn nods of confirmation. “Reason?” Eli spread his hands again.

“Said his investors pulled out.” Tigo went to sit on the edge of the desk and toyed with a baseball paperweight that lay there.

“All of ’em?” Elias asked, watching as his partner nodded again.

“Every last one,” Tigo added, stroking the light beard shadowing his face.

Eli rocked back in his chair again. “That’s crazy... There was all that support for it.”

Cleve Echols’s charitable endeavors in Philadelphia were well-known. It was the man’s more upscale endeavors that earned him a lucrative portfolio and respect in the business world. The financier owned and operated branches of banks throughout Pennsylvania and Delaware. There were even prominent locales in Atlanta, Chicago, Las Vegas, San Francisco and Miami. Echols’s plan to construct a new bank was a major bit of news. The latest establishment was to serve as the headquarters for the successful branches.

“So what does this mean for us?” Eli asked.

“Means we come out smellin’ good.” Linus’s wide mouth curved into a satisfied smile but he shrugged. “Not as good as we’d smell with a full project paid for, but our preliminary charge and phase one fees have already been settled so...”

Eli leaned close to his desk and propped his elbows along the edge. “We should keep our ears to the ground about this—see if we can pick up what may have motivated it.”

“We’re already on it,” Tigo said.

“So what’s the other thing?” Eli queried after silence dominated the office for several seconds. Amusement returned to his extraordinary stare as it shifted between Tigo and Linus. “Haven’t y’all already rehearsed how you’re gonna tell me?”

Santigo mussed the wavy crop of hair covering his head. “You won’t like it. No matter how we tell you.”

“You’d be a fool to put the kibosh on this, considering the Echols’s mess,” Linus blurted, staying true to his trademark outspoken persona.

“Then let’s hear it.” Eli smoothed the back of his hand across his goatee.

“We’ve been offered a remodeling expansion project. Given the scope of the thing...it’d draw on our offices across the country.”

Santigo nodded in agreement with Linus’s explanation. “It’s huge, El. Way bigger than the Echols deal and with the potential to keep us in the black for years.”

“More in the black than we already are,” Linus included, reading the look on Eli’s face.

“Sounds like an offer we shouldn’t refuse.” Elias reared back in his chair again. “So why don’t you think I’ll like it?”

“It’s not the offer we expect you to dislike, but who it comes from,” Tigo said, then cringed.

Linus stepped over to drop a folder on the desk. Elias leaned closer and brushed his fingers across the label marked with the name Jazzy B’s.

* * *

Clarissa David stared across the den at the decorative facial tissue dispenser but she didn’t trust herself to make the short trip to retrieve one. Instead, she used the backs of her hands to smear away the water that pooled in her large eyes and made a continuous stream down her cheeks.

She’d been sitting immobile for the last ten or twelve minutes. Intermittently, she’d been plagued by bouts of shaking her head in confusion as if some remark had just been made which prompted her disagreement.

No words had been spoken. Clarissa was alone in the room, dazed and in disbelief. Confusion was but one of the emotions filtering her mind at that point. She’d arrived in Media, Pennsylvania, two miles west of downtown Philadelphia in time to have her final conversation with her aunt Jazmina Beaumont. It was hardly a conversation. Clarissa twisted her mouth into what could have been a grimace. The purpose of the gesture, however, was to hold down the sobs crowding her throat. She’d gotten to her aunt’s bedside in time for the woman to tell Clarissa only a few things at best. While they were lovely and inspiring, they had barely grazed the surface of all the questions skipping around inside Clarissa’s head. Not to mention everything Clarissa herself had wanted to say to the woman who had helped raise her.

Clarissa sat perched on the very edge of an armchair cushion. She resembled a frightened animal ready to take to flight. She was clenching her hands so tightly that they had an ashen appearance. Frustrated by the sight of them, Clarissa hid her almond-brown face in her palms and shuddered.

Soft rubs to her shoulders caused her to jerk upright a few moments later. Clarissa tried and failed to produce a smile for her aunt’s oldest friend and business manager, Waymon Cole. Desperately, she reached up to tug on Waymon’s hand until he was seated on the arm of her chair.

Clarissa rested her head on the man’s thigh as she cried.

“It’ll be all right, sugar.” Waymon’s calm, easy tone was almost as assuring as the manner in which he stroked the wavy, dark hair that tapered at Clarissa’s nape into the chic boyish cut that she sported.

In spite of Waymon’s words, Clarissa cried harder into his pant leg.

“I just—just talk—talked to he-her.” Overwrought, Clarissa barely hiccupped the words. “I came out—out here to see her and—and to talk. I—Terry made a stop. I—I asked him to stop and...” The sobs grew heavier as she bawled. “If I hadn’t told him to—to stop, I could, I would have been here before...”

“Shh...stop this now.” Waymon brought the firmness back into his voice. “You stop that, you hear? It’s no time to sit around blaming yourself.” Waymon bent to kiss the top of Clarissa’s head. “Jaz wouldn’t want that and you know it. Especially not now when you’re about to have so much on your plate.”

“I don’t even—even know what she wanted.” Still in the throes of remorse, Clarissa’s words sounded somewhat garbled. “She didn’t have time to—tell it—tell me anything—I didn’t know. I don’t know what to do, Way. She didn’t have time...”

“Clarissa? Stop. You know that’s not true. One thing everybody knew about Jaz was that she never skimped on the chance to tell folks what she expected of them.”

Clarissa shook her head against Waymon’s thigh before looking up. “I don’t mean that.” She blinked tears from her red eyes. “She wanted me out here...had something she needed to talk about.”

“Something about the club?” Waymon’s long attractive face appeared haggard from all the crying he’d done that afternoon.

Clarissa rubbed the back of her hand across her nose. “I don’t know, she wouldn’t talk about it on the phone. She just said to get out here ASAP.” Clarissa buried her face in her hands and shuddered again.

Waymon was back to massaging Clarissa’s neck when Jazmina’s doctor walked into the den.

“Dr. Raines.” Clarissa was on her feet the moment she saw the man.

Steve Raines had been Jazmina Beaumont’s physician for years. Speculation ran high that the two had enjoyed more than a doctor-patient relationship. Of course, neither party had ever owned up to the rumor but, when such talk centered around the likes of Jazmina Beaumont, chances were highly in favor of its accuracy.

“How long was she sick?”

“Clarissa.” Steve Raines sighed but he had no intentions of providing a sugarcoated response. Jazmina’s niece was far more perceptive than Jaz had ever truly realized. “You’ve always been a smart one,” he said.

Clarissa unfortunately was in no mood to be complimented. “How long was she sick?” she repeated, her dusky gaze was like stone and fixed on the handsome fifty-something Jamaican.

“May I at least ask you to sit down?” Steve waved a hand toward a sofa that matched the armchair Clarissa had just vacated. He nodded when she obliged.

“Jaz never wanted you to worry,” Steve began once he was patting Clarissa’s hands where she held them clasped on her knees. “She didn’t want you feeling that you had to be here full time. She’s been having heart problems for years and we—” he pressed his lips together proving how difficult the moment was for him, as well “—we diagnosed her with heart disease. She had a triple bypass three years ago.”

Horrified, Clarissa covered her mouth with both hands. Her speechlessness didn’t last for long.

“You should have told me!” she lashed out, her eyes shifting in fury between the two men.

Steve was shaking his head. “I couldn’t, love. She absolutely forbid it.”

Clarissa turned her accusing glare toward Waymon.

“It’s true, sugar,” he confirmed with the same slow, sad shake of his head. “You know better than we do how protective she was over you.”

Clarissa let her head fall as though she had no strength to keep it up. She couldn’t refute the truth in Waymon’s words. How often had she listened to her aunt advise her, over the last five years especially, to not let the business become her life or even her passion. Remaining true to form, Clarissa had allowed business to become precisely that.

Feeling defeated, Clarissa left the sofa and went to overlook the rose garden Jaz had cherished. Behind her, she could hear Waymon speaking with Steve about the funeral preparations. She turned to rejoin them.

“No. You don’t need to sit in for this, baby,” Waymon said.

“It’s okay, I’m fine.” Clarissa’s sigh proved otherwise but she maintained. “I need something to stay occupied.”

“Occupied?” Waymon mixed laughter with the word. “I promise you’ll have more than enough of that. But this is something you should let others handle for you.”

“I need to stay busy, Waymon.”

“Not now you don’t.”

She knew the man well enough to know that was the end of it. Deep down—though she’d be hard-pressed to know exactly where—Clarissa knew he was right. Stifling her arguments, she returned to look unseeingly past the bay window.

* * *

Elias had been unnervingly silent since Linus dropped the Jazzy B’s folder on his desk.

“We’ve already taken the early meetings,” Tigo explained, averting his dark eyes to pull on his shirt cuffs. “We’ve pretty much done all that we can without your approval.”

Eli applied a quick tug to his earlobe and then brushed his fingers along the edge of the legal-sized manila folder. When he’d brought his best friends into his father’s business, it was with the understanding that they’d have an equal say in the operations. Unanimous approval was needed before any project was green-lighted.

“The prelim work shows that the project is sound,” Linus chimed in. “The pertinent departments have reviewed the various aspects of the deal and everyone’s in agreement.”

“We can set up new meetings with everyone involved if you’d rather hear it from them,” Tigo offered.

“You don’t need to do that.” Eli’s voice was quiet.

“We know, given the history, that you might be hesitant here, man,” Linus chimed in again as he expected the worst with good reasons. “If you could just try blocking all that out. Think about the money on the table with another nationwide project in hand....”

Eli looked up from the desk. A smirk triggered the dimples slightly shaded by the goatee he wore. “You’ve sold me.”

Tigo and Linus expelled twin sighs of relief.

“What’s the catch?” Linus was first to recover from the easy feelings floating around the room.

“I’ll sign on two conditions.” Elias reared back again in the desk chair.

Tigo dismissed some of his easy feelings then, as well. “Conditions.”

“You two continue to work with Jazmina Beaumont and her people—” he shrugged “—I don’t want to find myself spending time with her while this thing’s in progress.”

Linus and Tigo tried to mimic their partner’s shrug. Blatant uncertainty slowed their movements even though working with Jaz and her people was pretty much the manner in which things were going anyway.

“What’s the second condition?” Linus asked.

Elias pushed back the Jazzy B’s folder across the desktop. “I deal exclusively with Clarissa David.”

Chapter 3

“How do you know about her?” Santigo blurted, his easy persona completely vanished. “Why do you get the best part of the deal?”

Elias pushed away from his desk, saying, “Because my name’s on the door.”

“And wouldn’t Mr. Evan be rollin’ in his grave if he knew that was only because you had a lucky night at cards?” Linus accused, his slanting amber eyes appearing thin as slits as they narrowed.

The partners had gone back and forth for weeks about changing the company name. They then went back and forth about what to change the name to. Elias apparently had no allegiance to keeping his family name prominently displayed on the building’s masthead. Linus and Tigo were no strangers to the tense relationship Elias shared with his father. Nevertheless, it didn’t sit altogether right with them to completely strip away every trace of Evan Joss’s existence.

When Eli suggested they settle the matter by a game of poker, Linus and Tigo figured it’d be the only resolution that would be agreed upon. Linus and Santigo often wondered who had been more perturbed when Elias won—them or Elias.

“Clarissa David lives in California, you know?” Linus folded his arms over his chest and moved closer to the desk. “She only comes back here a few times a year to check in on her aunt’s East Coast clients. She’s not even heavily involved in the construction end...”

“Yet you two have met with her, or am I mistaken?” Eli focused on the bridge he made with his fingers. He knew both men well. They’d have certainly made a point of meeting with Clarissa David during one of the few times a year that she visited Philadelphia.

“Is this about business or somethin’ more personal?” Tigo challenged, leaning against the desk.

“What difference does it make?” Eli countered.

Playful accusation brought a sparkle to Linus’s exotic stare. “You met her, didn’t you? ’Course you have.” He rolled his eyes.

“When?” Tigo finally moved off the desk.

“How?” Linus tacked on.

By then, Eli was rolling up his sleeves in an attempt to ignore the gradual mounting of his frustration. “When and how I met her is my business.” His tone was soft, yet cold.

Linus was undaunted. “It’s our business, El. We can’t afford for you to let a personal...”

“Ancient,” Tigo interrupted.

“...beef with the woman’s aunt to cause us to miss out on this deal,” Linus preached.

“I take offense to that.” Elias’s voice remained low but not quite as chilly. “I already okayed the project. Last thing I’d try to do is sabotage it.”

Linus and Santigo couldn’t argue the truth of Elias’s words. Despite the dramatics that made up their partner’s relationship with his father, they knew Eli was of a mind to see the business remain among the top construction companies in the country.

“At least tell us why you want her all to yourself.”

Tigo groaned over Linus’s question. “Idiot—he just told you that he met her. That’s all it’d take.”

Elias lost his battle against smiling and shook his head. “I met her while Stan was fitting me for a new suit.”

“Humph,” Tigo grunted.

Linus nodded and eased his hands into his trouser pockets. “She’s a real sweetheart, El—nothin’ like what we’ve heard and what you know about her aunt.”

“Apple doesn’t always fall far,” Eli muttered.

“Well, in this case, it fell and rolled right out of the yard,” Tigo championed.

“But don’t take our words for it.” Linus waved his hands. “Could you at least tell us what your plan is?”

Elias laughed. “What the hell, fellas? You think I’d hurt her?”

“I just don’t think it’d be good for anyone involved for you to hold Clarissa David responsible for what went down back in the day between your dad and her aunt.”

“That’s what I’m trying to prevent.” Eli’s words were genuine. “You guys went behind my back to put this deal together and had the chance to get to know her in the process.” He gave a one-shoulder shrug. “I only want the same chance.”

Linus and Tigo didn’t appear totally convinced. At any rate, they eventually gave their consent with a round of slow nods.

“You wanna keep that?” Linus looked toward the Jazzy B’s folder.

“Leave it with Des.” Eli massaged the side of his nose. “He’ll tell me if there’s anything I need to know, and I’ll sign whatever crosses my desk.”

Left with nothing further to argue, Tigo and Linus slowly retreated from the office. Alone, Elias’s relaxed expression was replaced by pensiveness.

* * *

“Do you really need to be doing this now? Mr. Cole already told us what happened.” Rayelle Keats’s round café-au-lait-toned face was a portrait of bewilderment.

Clarissa set aside another one of the folders that was in the tall stack of folders she’d been reviewing, to acquaint herself with the club’s most pressing local business concerns. “They should hear this from me.” Her manner was a smidge absent.

Rayelle took a deep breath, hoping her “soft touch” didn’t fail her then. “I understand what you’re saying, Clay,” she began, using her pet name for Clarissa. “But nobody expects you to jump mountains today, this week or this month if truth be told.” When Clarissa continued to shuffle through the files, Rayelle came over to put her hand over the folders.

“Jaz was like your mother and you just lost her yesterday.”

The reminder caused Clarissa’s lip to tremble and the folder’s contents to cascade to the floor.

“Honey.” Rayelle pulled Clarissa up from the desk and into a squeeze.

“I have to be involved in something, working on something. If I don’t—” she inhaled sharply “—I’ll lose my mind. I know I will, Ray.”

“I know, honey.”

Clarissa pulled back from the embrace. “No, you don’t.”

Rayelle, a former dancer and choreographer, currently served as manager for the Jazzy B’s clubs in the northeast. She was used to dealing with servers and dancers and the stressful situations they often encountered in the profession. Therefore, it was easy for her to detect the chord in Clarissa’s voice that had little to do with grief.

“You wanna talk about it, hon?”

Clarissa stooped to collect the papers that had fallen. If there was anyone she could or would talk to, it would have been Rayelle Keats. The woman had started working for Jazmina when she was eighteen. Something had always told Clarissa that Ray’s introduction into the world of adult entertainment had come much sooner than that, but Clarissa had never asked. Rayelle always said that her life began when she met Jaz.

Clarissa and her aunt accepted Ray and the circumstances of her life without question. Clarissa had taken an instant liking to the Miami-bred Rayelle, having met her during summer visits. They had been friends for almost twenty years.

“We’ll talk.” Clarissa nodded when Ray looked over at her from helping with the papers. Clarissa glanced at the silver watch adorning her wrist. “Later though, after we’re done with the girls, okay?”

“You only get to brush me off once,” Rayelle warned and then hugged Clarissa over the stack of papers.

Clarissa was slipping on a pair of clogs in time to meet the dancers. Jazmina Beaumont had established her first club in the late sixties. The seedy (or less nurturing) side of Philadelphia in those days was where Jaz was born. Who raised her had always been something of a mystery for Clarissa. All she had ever known of her aunt’s childhood was that when the Beaumonts picked up their roots and decided to start over out west, young Jazmina had refused to leave.

Clarissa knew that the woman had been on her own since the age of fourteen. How she’d survived was a tale Jaz had never shared with her niece.

Clarissa had a fine idea. Looking into the faces of the young, lovely women who made their living at Jazzy B’s Gentlemen’s Club, Clarissa guessed a lot of her aunt’s history ran parallel to theirs. Clarissa, whose job was akin to recruitment, saw those same hopeful yet guarded women when they were at their most frightened and defeated.

The stories of their upbringings were far removed from fairy tales and romance. Clarissa learned a lot about her aunt through the very girls she gave purpose. In them, she saw her aunt’s fears and shame but also the woman’s strength and intelligence.

The dancers walked into the expansive room. It had served as Jazmina’s office, lounge and private dance studio. The girls arrived in a silent, somber stream. They all charted a path right to Clarissa for warm hugs and cheek kisses. Once each girl had found a spot to sit in the vibrantly decorated room, Clarissa moved to stand in the clearing.

“By now you’ve all heard about Jaz’s passing. Yes, Meri?” Clarissa pointed to the young woman whose hand was raised.

“Um...we didn’t even know she was sick.” The petite girl’s tone was whisper soft.

A murmur of voices filled the room for a short while before Clarissa raised her hand for silence.

“I talked with her doctor. She’d been taking heart medication for a while and um...” Clarissa cleared her throat when emotion suddenly crowded it. “She didn’t want anybody to know, not even me.”

Rayelle came over to grip Clarissa’s hand. Clarissa welcomed the contact, which gave her the power to keep talking.

“I wanted to meet with you guys to assure everyone that jobs are secure. I’ve got no intentions of closing down or selling off the clubs.” Clarissa gave the news a few seconds to settle.

“I’ll never be able to replace my aunt in your eyes and I don’t want to. I will strive to give you the same sense of contentment and security you’ve always felt as employees of Jazmina Beaumont.” She managed to laugh although it was clearly shaky.

“I’m, uh, not one for speeches so I’ll just end it there. Either Rayelle or I will be in touch with the details about—” Clearing her throat that time did no good. The ball of emotion was wedged deep. She waved off Rayelle, who was moving close to offer more comfort.

“We’ll let you know about the funeral service,” Clarissa got the words out.

“All right, ladies, that’s it for now.” Rayelle gave a clap to rouse the young women from their spots on the sofas and settees. “You can head on to rehearsal, makeup or anything else on schedule. We open in three hours.”

The girls took time to kiss and embrace Clarissa again on their way out of the office. Rayelle watched until the last dancer had gone.

“You’re right,” Rayelle said, pulling her hands through her shoulder-length hair and clasped them behind her neck. “I think they were better off hearing that from you.”

“Hell, Ray.” Clarissa leaned against a corner of the white oak desk. “I don’t know a damn thing about running a business let alone a strip club.”

“Gentlemen’s oasis,” Rayelle corrected, using Jaz’s preferred description.

The words brought a smile and then laughter. The desire to laugh held on to Clarissa far longer than the actual humor the comment merited. It just felt so good to give into the urge.

“You know you’re wrong about that,” Ray said once they had sobered from the laugh attack. “What do you think you’ve been doing for Miss J all these years? I can’t think of a better person to handle this place.”

“I can.” Clarissa cast a pointed look toward Ray, who again laughed.

“Oh, no, Miss Clay. I am not the one for schmoozing and hobnobbing and grammatically correct speech.”

Clarissa’s brow rose. “Could’ve fooled me.” She shrugged when Rayelle waved her off.

“I don’t know half of what it takes to operate this place.” Clarissa glanced at the folders she’d been browsing before the meeting with the dancers. “I don’t even know the ins and outs of who might’ve been giving her problems...nothing....” She knocked a fist against a jean-clad thigh.

Ray laughed one more time. “What are you talkin’ about? This place runs like a lean machine. I never heard Miss J complain about any problems.”

“Yeah, remember this is the same woman who didn’t tell us she had heart disease and bypass surgery, either.”

Ray folded her arms at her waist. “What are you getting at, Clay?”

Clarissa spent the next few minutes talking of “the day” when she spoke to Jaz over the phone and how insistent the woman was about talking to her in person.

“That is weird, even for Miss J.”

“So, in other words you and the girls haven’t noticed anything strange. She wasn’t acting funny...before?”

“Nothing I can put my finger on.” Rayelle’s fair features appeared shadowed by worry. “I’ll keep an ear open around the girls anyway.”

“I don’t even know what appointments she needed to keep.” Clarissa was staring at the files again. “Only thing I was kept in the loop on was the new construction project. Jaz wanted me on hand to take any necessary trips.”

“Guess that’s where it pays not to be a control freak.” Rayelle referenced Jaz’s penchant for organizing all aspects of her business calendar. Working for Jazmina Beaumont, a secretary or assistant was left with little to do.

“Know what?” Ray began to leer indulgently. “That’s the perfect excuse for dinner out on the town.”

Clarissa frowned. “What is?”

“Miss J’s appointments. We can go through her planner and get a better idea of her upcoming commitments. I’m pretty sure you won’t want to be hanging around here when this place opens in a few hours.”

“Mmm...” Clarissa leaned her head back as though she were envisioning the meal. “Add drinks to that offer and you’ve got a deal.”

“Now we’re speakin’ the same language.” Rayelle hurried over to Clarissa. They exchanged kisses and hugs over the stack of folders.

* * *

“You threw us for a loop here, sir. We weren’t expecting that,” Elias told Cleveland Echols when they spoke by phone later that afternoon. Eli had wasted no time asking the man about his decision to back out on the construction of the new bank.

“I am sorry about it, boy, but it’s like I told Tigo and Linus. A sudden loss of investors.” The man sighed. “Can’t say I’m all that surprised given the shaky state of the economy.”

“Right,” Eli agreed then massaged his eyes. “So that was the logic behind their decision to pull the plug.”

There was silence from Cleve Echols’s end of the line.

“Mr. Cleve?”

“It’s a complex matter, son.”

Eli bowed his head then, regretting the strain that came through in the man’s voice.

“How long have we known each other, Mr. Cleve?”

Cleveland Echols’s soft chuckling came through the line. “Since your mama brought you to the bank to deposit your first twenty dollars.” Cleve’s laughter continued as he recalled a then seven-year-old Elias Evan Joss refusing to leave his money until Cleve had come out from his office to personally assure him that he’d have access to his funds at all times.

“You should know that I only want to help, sir,” Eli cautioned once the laughter had settled. “It should go without saying that you can trust me.”

“That’s really all I have to tell you, Elias. The investors pulled out and went in with Waymon Cole.”

“Cole...how do I know that name?” Eli murmured.

“He’s made money for a lot of folks in this town. These days a quality investment banker is a godsend.”

“Investment banker—that must be it.” Elias didn’t sound totally convinced.

“Cole’s probably best known though as Jaz Beaumont’s business manager,” Cleve added after a few more seconds of silence had held the line.

“Right.” Elias realized that was the connection he sought.

* * *

Rayelle decided that her friend could use dinner, drinks and a little dress up to brighten the evening. They wangled a last minute reservation to Via!, a restaurant that specialized in hearty grilled foods served in an upscale atmosphere. Jackets were required of all male patrons while female diners frequented the establishment in their sexiest attire.

“Did I do good?” Ray asked as she and Clarissa stood just inside the dining room near the host’s stand.

Clarissa smiled brightly and nudged Ray’s arm. “Better than good,” she said.

The maître d’ greeted the women by letting them know how “delicious” they looked. Offering an arm to each, he escorted the ladies into the spacious dining room that blazed golden from the electric candles that were spaced across the area.

Most women who visited the restaurant visited on the arm of a male patron. When two women arrived together as dining partners, the overwhelming population of male customers couldn’t help but take notice. This was amplified with respect to Rayelle and Clarissa, who took sexy-chic to another level. The stunning duo drew more than their fair share of attention. Rayelle showed off her dancer’s legs in a strapless lavender number. Clarissa’s breathtaking curves were gloved in an asymmetrical peach frock that blurred the lines between elegant and erotic.

“Now, how the hell do they expect us to focus on a thing when they dress like that?” Santigo queried, making no effort to mask his delight.

“Guess it depends on what we’re supposed to be focusing on,” Elias noted, his vivid blue-green gaze locked on Clarissa.

“Who’s that with her?” Linus asked.

Tigo shrugged and tossed his napkin to the table. “Guess that means we should go over and introduce ourselves.”

“Show some restraint.” Elias’s advisement was soft. “The woman just lost her aunt.”

Santigo stood and dropped several bills to the table as payment for the dinner he had promised his friends. “In that case we should go and pay our respects.” His demeanor was serious now.

Eli and Linus rose together and the three made their way across the plush dining area. The partners captured interest in much the same manner that Clarissa and Rayelle had upon their arrival. The male trio had always snagged feminine appreciation quickly and with full awareness. While Tigo and Linus made great use of their attributes, Elias proved to be the more selective member of the group. It was difficult, if it was even possible, for him to put into words what truly intrigued him enough about a woman to pursue her.

Whatever it was, Clarissa David possessed it in droves, and that disturbed him. Elias Joss was not a man who liked to be disturbed.

* * *

Rayelle let loose a low wolf whistle when she spotted the sexy threesome heading in their direction. When Clarissa glanced up from her menu, Ray cast a pointed nod in the direction she looked.

Clarissa did a double take when she saw that Elias Joss was part of the group that had garnered such praise. It was unnecessary to say that he had her interested. Whether that was because he was so scrumptious to look at or because he’d reserved a distinctly chilly look for her, she couldn’t say.

Nevertheless, a smile did curve her mouth when she saw Santigo Rodriguez and Linus Brooks on either side of Elias. Clarissa pushed her chair away from the table and went to greet them.

Linus was first to take Clarissa’s hand and pull her into a hug. “So sorry to hear about Miss Jaz.”

“Thanks, Linus.” Clarissa patted his jaw when he kissed her cheek.

Tigo moved in next to offer condolences, when he noticed Eli’s expression. The look was an effective warning to keep the contact brief. Clearing his throat, Tigo stepped back but kept hold of Clarissa’s hand.

“We were very sorry to hear about this. We’d just spoken to her a few days ago.” Tigo nodded toward Linus. “She looked like a picture of health.”

Clarissa could feel her throat tightening on the now-familiar sensation of emotion crowding it. “She, um... I know she enjoyed working with you both. I hope you won’t mind working with me for the duration?”

“Oh, no,” Linus said while Tigo shook his head. “That won’t be a problem for us, um...Mr. Joss—” he tilted his head in Eli’s direction “—has requested to be your go-to person.”

Clarissa pivoted on the seductive transparent pumps she wore. “Why the hell would Mr. Joss do that?” she blurted, having forgotten all sense of decorum and politeness.

Santigo bowed his head to hide the grin he feared was about to emerge. Linus covered his mouth and Rayelle hid her face partly behind a menu.

Elias studied Clarissa with a cool look. But for the narrowing of his electric gaze that just hinted at the stirring of his temper, he seemed unfazed. “Will that be a problem for you?” he asked.

“Could be,” Clarissa threw back.

Elias allowed more temper to filter his stare. “Then maybe we should discuss it.” The words weren’t phrased as a request, and he extended a hand which curved around Clarissa’s elbow before she could move past him.

“Great,” Linus muttered, watching as the tense couple walked away.

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