want to be alone or…
He couldn’t form the words. He wanted to know if she had ever loved Owen, and if she had could she learn to love again. He had thought about her hostility at the table in the restaurant. Had she seen him as her husband? Had she built a wall around her to keep all men at arm’s length?
Martin felt vulnerable for the first time. He had to ask onemore question. “Do you love him, Parris?” She shook her head. “Did you ever love him?”
Her eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them back. She would not shed a single tear for Owen. He wasn’t worth it. He had stopped being the man she loved the moment she discovered he was a substance abuser who refused to go into a treatment program. She had only uncovered his clandestine activities after she saw him inhaling a white substance in their bathroom when he thought she was asleep. That single act ended their marriage and changed her forever.
The amber words filled the screen.
I loved him at one time
.
He took the laptop from her lap, shutting it off and placing it on a bedside table. Then he pulled her into his embrace, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
“You’ll never have to worry about him hurting you again, baby.” She trembled and he tightened his hold on her body.
“Nothing matters now,” he crooned.
He wanted to say that what did matter was that Owen Lawson was a highly decorated police officer with the West Palm Beach police department. It mattered that the man had just been promoted to the rank of lieutenant. And it mattered that he had tried to kill his ex-wife and would probably try again if given the opportunity.
What did matter was that Lawson had the protection of a police department and that of a federal judge. He was the son of Lowell Lawson, Florida’s first black federal judge who was rumored to have his sights set on a Supreme Court appointment.
“I’ll take care of you,” Martin promised. He whispered his promise over and over to himself, for if he said it enough he would believe it. And at that moment he did.
Chapter 5
A week later Parris waited for Martin to come home. She found it difficult to contain her excitement. She could talk. Not clearly, but enough to make herself understood.
She was tired of “talking” to Martin on the laptop. It seemed as if her thoughts always raced faster than her fingers. The front door opened and she rose from the black and white striped sofa, smiling.
Martin placed his leather case and suit jacket on a table near the door, his gaze fixed on Parris’s smiling face. She was waiting for him as she had been doing for a week. And it had been a week since they discussed her ex-husband, the highly decorated police officer who now was on a medical leave.
He walked over to her and she did not disappoint him when she put her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his cheek.
Closing his eyes, Martin held her close, inhaling the distinctive Chanel No. 5 clinging to her skin. At first he thought she was too young for the sophisticated fragrance but the scent was her. At twenty-two Parris Simmons claimed a sensuality many women twice her age had not acquired, and coupled with the sensuality was an innocence he couldn’t see but he could feel.
There were times when he felt the seven-year difference in their ages was twice that amount. But he had to remind himself that shehad been married; married to a man who could be her father. Parris was twenty-two while Owen Lawson was thirty-nine.
Pulling back, Martin stared down at her upturned face. He didn’t think he would ever get used to her natural beauty. Her satiny golden-brown skin, her luminous eyes and her lush passionate mouth. A mouth he yearned to devour.
“How are you?”
Martin’s soft voice sent chills racing up and down Parris’s spine. The green lights in her eyes darkened as her hands moved to cradle his smooth lean cheeks, her thumbs tracing the curve of his high cheekbones.
“I’m fine, thank you.” The
He couldn’t form the words. He wanted to know if she had ever loved Owen, and if she had could she learn to love again. He had thought about her hostility at the table in the restaurant. Had she seen him as her husband? Had she built a wall around her to keep all men at arm’s length?
Martin felt vulnerable for the first time. He had to ask onemore question. “Do you love him, Parris?” She shook her head. “Did you ever love him?”
Her eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them back. She would not shed a single tear for Owen. He wasn’t worth it. He had stopped being the man she loved the moment she discovered he was a substance abuser who refused to go into a treatment program. She had only uncovered his clandestine activities after she saw him inhaling a white substance in their bathroom when he thought she was asleep. That single act ended their marriage and changed her forever.
The amber words filled the screen.
I loved him at one time
.
He took the laptop from her lap, shutting it off and placing it on a bedside table. Then he pulled her into his embrace, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
“You’ll never have to worry about him hurting you again, baby.” She trembled and he tightened his hold on her body.
“Nothing matters now,” he crooned.
He wanted to say that what did matter was that Owen Lawson was a highly decorated police officer with the West Palm Beach police department. It mattered that the man had just been promoted to the rank of lieutenant. And it mattered that he had tried to kill his ex-wife and would probably try again if given the opportunity.
What did matter was that Lawson had the protection of a police department and that of a federal judge. He was the son of Lowell Lawson, Florida’s first black federal judge who was rumored to have his sights set on a Supreme Court appointment.
“I’ll take care of you,” Martin promised. He whispered his promise over and over to himself, for if he said it enough he would believe it. And at that moment he did.
Chapter 5
A week later Parris waited for Martin to come home. She found it difficult to contain her excitement. She could talk. Not clearly, but enough to make herself understood.
She was tired of “talking” to Martin on the laptop. It seemed as if her thoughts always raced faster than her fingers. The front door opened and she rose from the black and white striped sofa, smiling.
Martin placed his leather case and suit jacket on a table near the door, his gaze fixed on Parris’s smiling face. She was waiting for him as she had been doing for a week. And it had been a week since they discussed her ex-husband, the highly decorated police officer who now was on a medical leave.
He walked over to her and she did not disappoint him when she put her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his cheek.
Closing his eyes, Martin held her close, inhaling the distinctive Chanel No. 5 clinging to her skin. At first he thought she was too young for the sophisticated fragrance but the scent was her. At twenty-two Parris Simmons claimed a sensuality many women twice her age had not acquired, and coupled with the sensuality was an innocence he couldn’t see but he could feel.
There were times when he felt the seven-year difference in their ages was twice that amount. But he had to remind himself that shehad been married; married to a man who could be her father. Parris was twenty-two while Owen Lawson was thirty-nine.
Pulling back, Martin stared down at her upturned face. He didn’t think he would ever get used to her natural beauty. Her satiny golden-brown skin, her luminous eyes and her lush passionate mouth. A mouth he yearned to devour.
“How are you?”
Martin’s soft voice sent chills racing up and down Parris’s spine. The green lights in her eyes darkened as her hands moved to cradle his smooth lean cheeks, her thumbs tracing the curve of his high cheekbones.
“I’m fine, thank you.” The
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