Surrender To Me. Donna Hill

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Surrender To Me - Donna Hill The Lawsons of Louisiana

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great.”

      “Coffee? Tea? Juice?”

      “Coffee,” she asked more than stated.

      “Got it.” He left and as he reached the door he heard her get up from the bed and scurry into the bathroom. Modesty was actually an admirable trait.

      * * *

      He deftly threw together his morning-after omelet special of cheddar and sharp cheeses, green and red peppers and diced bits of ham mixed with a dash of milk to keep the eggs light and fluffy; a trick he’d learned from his mom. He hummed while he worked and in between every other note he thought about or saw an image of Avery. Rarely did one woman leave that kind of impression on him. He was used to easily seducing the woman that he wanted; a full-on Lawson press. Not this time. He frowned as he replayed their brief encounter.

      He’d noticed her the moment she walked in and it was clear, even in an eye-popping black gown, that her presence was more than an invited guest. He could tell by the way her gaze covertly scanned the room, noted the exits and followed at a discreet distance from the vice president that she was part of his security detail—Secret Service. He had an image of a .22 strapped to her inner thigh.

      Unlike many highbrow gatherings of politicos and the like that were too reserved for his tastes, a Lawson party was the real deal full of loud laughter, louder conversations and the music to go with it. So of course he had to get particularly close to talk to her.

      He gave her time to assess the layout before he approached. He came alongside her. “Can I get you anything?”

      She turned cinnamon-brown eyes on him, fanned by long curved lashes. Her smile was practiced, distant, but Rafe didn’t miss the rapid beat of her pulse in the dip of her throat that belied her cool exterior. Her sleek right brow rose in question as she took him in with one long glance.

      “Clearly you’re not one of the waitstaff,” she said with a hint of amusement in her voice.

      “Rafe Lawson.”

      Her eyes widened for a split second. “Oh, the scandalous one.”

      He dramatically pressed his hand to his chest. “Guilty as charged, cher, but I have perfectly reasonable explanations for everything.”

      Her eyes sparkled when the light hit them. “I’m sure you do, Mr. Lawson.”

      “So what can I get for you that won’t interfere with you being on duty?”

      She tensed ever so slightly.

      “Trust me. I’ve grown up in this life. I can spot Secret Service a mile away. Although I must admit that you bring class to the dark suits and Ray-Bans.”

      She glanced past him to where her colleague stood near the vice president. In one fluid motion she gave a barely imperceptible lift of her chin, a quick scan of the room and said, “Nice to meet you,” as she made a move to leave.

      He held her bare arm. “Tell me your name,” he commanded almost in her ear. He inhaled her, felt the slight shiver that gripped her.

      “Avery.”

      Rafe released her and followed the dangerously low-cut back of her dress until she was out of sight.

      “Smells delicious.”

      Rafe blinked, glanced over his shoulder. Definitely cute, but she wasn’t Avery. He took two plates from the overhead cabinet and set them on the table. “Help yourself to coffee.”

      “Thanks.”

      He spooned the eggs onto a platter and added the bacon. “Toast?”

      “No. I’m fine with this.”

      Rafe poured himself a glass of orange juice, straddled the stool and sat. “How long have you been working with my sister, six months?”

      “Just about.”

      He watched her over the rim of his glass as she tried to remain ladylike when she took a half spoonful of eggs and one strip of bacon when he knew damn well she had to be starving because he was.

      He lifted the serving spoon from the platter, loaded it with eggs and plopped it on her plate, followed by two strips of bacon.

      “We’ve already experienced carnal knowledge, honey, no point in putting on a show now. Eat like you mean it.” He winked and filled his plate.

      “I...want you to know that... I don’t do this.”

      “What’s that, Shante, eat breakfast?”

      She sputtered a laugh. “No. I mean...spend the night with a man the first time I meet him.”

      He chewed thoughtfully. “Hmm. Okay.” He smiled, slow and deliberate. “I consider it an honor, cher.” He watched her sandy brown skin flush then tucked a strand of hair behind her ears. His fingers instinctively caressed the smooth lock. “Eat up. I’ll drop you home before I take care of the rest of my day.”

      * * *

      Rafe preferred the black Range Rover for his everyday use rather than either of his two cars or his motorcycle. Plus the roominess gave him an artificial sense of distance when he knew it would be the last official time he’d drop a woman at her door. The intimacy of a car made parting more difficult.

      “Thanks for a great evening...and breakfast,” Shante said. She smiled shyly.

      “It was my pleasure.” He remotely unlocked the doors, got out and came around to her side. He held her hand to help her out.

      Shante glanced up at him and he knew this was the “I’ll call you” moment that wouldn’t happen.

      Rafe leaned down and placed a long, tender kiss on her forehead, ran his thumb along the line of her jaw, turned and got back in the Rover.

      A spark of guilt ignited with the turn of the key. It always did at times like this. He checked his mirrors and slowly pulled off.

      No sooner had he driven away and gotten back on the main road than his cell phone rang. He pressed an icon on the dash and his sister Dominique’s voice came through the speaker.

      “Tell me that you did not take Shante home with you last night.”

      “Well hello, Dom, and how are you today?”

      “Don’t play with me, Raford Lawson.”

      Anytime his family used his full name he knew he had to brace for the inevitable tongue-lashing. “Okay, I won’t tell you.”

      “Damn it, Rafe!”

      “What? She’s grown and so am I.”

      “That’s not the point and you know it.”

      “No. I don’t. Why don’t you enlighten me like I know you want to do.”

      Dominique sighed heavily.

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