Before the Storm (The Cochran/Deveraux Series Book 9) Read online

  Paris’s irrepressible humor came to the surface as she teased Ruth. “So what do you think? My daddy’s something else, isn’t he?”

  Ruth gave every appearance of disinterest as she put a napkin into a basket for serving the bread. She was going to pretend she hadn’t heard a word Paris had said, but she was far too honest for that and it wouldn’t have fooled the younger woman in the least.

  Ruth had the bread basket in one hand and the smaller basket of parmesan crisps for the salad in the other. Putting one hip against the door between the dining room and the kitchen, she gave Paris a sultry smile.

  “Your father is everything you said he was. And a whole lot more.”

  Chapter 2

  The dinner was superb in every way, from the ambience to the conversation to the food. Mac couldn’t remember when he’d had such a good time, or when he’d seen his daughter so radiantly charming. Like every doting father, he wanted nothing but the best for his children, especially his only girl. He kept her brothers in check about overprotecting Paris, but he was also guilty of exercising that same trait. Tonight she was the perfect hostess, elegant and sophisticated in every detail but with a down-home warmth that was irresistible. His little girl had grown up, he had to admit it. She was obviously a bright, capable career woman who could take care of herself, but it didn’t stop him from interrogating Titus Argonne about the person who was threatening her safety.

  Paris hosted her own TV show, a very popular and successful one. In recent weeks she had been the recipient of several threatening; vile, explicitly threatening letters. Her show was part of the media empire known as the The Deveraux Group, which was owned by her fiercely loving cousins. When they were informed of the letters, they erected a tight circle of investigation and protection around her. At the center of that circle was Titus Argonne, owner of one of the leading investigative firms in the country. Mac had little doubt that the man could do his job, but despite his gut instinct he had to have that man-to-man talk with Titus.

  First, however, he had to tear his eyes away from Ruth as she and Paris left the room. Her walk was both self-assured and seductive, deftly reinforcing the first impression he’d had of Ruth Bennett, which was that she was the most appealing woman he’d met in some time. He rubbed the cleft in his chin with his thumb while the two women disappeared into the kitchen through the dining room. Merlin, the big Russian Blue cat, suddenly fled the room when his efforts to unnerve Titus backfired. He’d been staring at Titus while emitting a low growling sound deep in his throat, but it didn’t impress Titus at all. All he did was lean forward and say “Boo” to Merlin and it startled him so badly he scampered. Although both men laughed, Mac’s expression changed first and he gave the younger man a look devoid of any humor whatsoever.

  “You’re good at keeping cats at bay, but how are you with humans? Are you sure you can keep my baby girl safe?” Mac paused to observe the subtle shift in the other man’s demeanor. His posture became erect and a steely determination replaced his smile. His slightly slanted eyes lost their normal blue gray tint, turning a pale silver color. Oddly enough, Mac was reassured by the change in the man who was supposed to be protecting his daughter. The words Titus spoke were also reassuring; in minutes he was able to convince Mac that under no circumstances would Paris come to harm.

  He leaned forward with a look that was as alive with passion as the words he spoke. “Sir, as long as I’m around no one can put their hands on Paris and live. I have the best trained staff in the free world and even if something should happen to me, their only mandate is to keep her safe and bring whoever is doing this to justice. I can understand your concern about your daughter, but you have to trust me, sir. I’m not going to let anything to happen to her.”

  Mac was once again impressed by the sincerity he saw blazing from the other man’s eyes. The depth of emotion in his eyes was enough to convince him, but he had another question to ask. “So what happened between you and Paris? It’s obvious that you have strong feelings for her. I could see that at John and Nina’s wedding reception,” he said while mentally recalling the passionate kiss he’d witnessed at that happy event.

  Titus gained more points by not pretending he didn’t know what Mac was talking about. He was about to answer the question in detail but his reply was forestalled by the reappearance of Ruth and Paris with hors d’oeuvres. Both men rose as the women entered the room and Mac gallantly took the tray from his daughter’s hands. He looked at the unguarded look of desire on Titus’s face as he stared at Paris. It both touched him and amused him because he was pretty sure he was looking at Ruth in a similar fashion. The notion wasn’t in any way unpleasant; on the contrary, it was highly stimulating, like everything else about Ruth Bennett.

  After the dining room and kitchen had been put to rights and the dessert was served in the living room, Titus complimented Paris again on the delicious meal. “Everything was wonderful, Paris. I had no idea you could cook like that or I’d have been camped out on your doorstep,” he admitted.

  Paris looked pleased at his comments, but as usual she was disarmingly honest. “Thanks, but I borrowed just about every recipe. The wild rice stuffing is from Ceylon, the spinach and pear salad is from Vera and the sweet potatoes are Bennie’s,” she said cheerfully.

  “Well, it was all good, honey. It doesn’t matter where the recipes came from, you prepared them all beautifully,” Ruth told her. “Especially the dessert. These are probably the best brownies I’ve ever eaten in my life and I’ve had plenty because I’m an ol’ chocolate fiend from way back.”

  Paris blushed even pinker this time. “Guilty again. That isn’t my recipe, either. Maya taught me how to make those,” she said, glancing at her father.

  Soon after dessert and coffee, Ruth announced it was time for her to go. “I need to get back over to Bennie and Clay’s while I can still drive. It was a wonderful evening, Paris. The meal and the company were superb and you’re an outstanding hostess,” she praised.

  “I agree wholeheartedly, Cupcake. This was a fantastic evening and it’s not going to end until I follow Ruth home to make sure she gets there safely. I’ll get our coats and we’ll be off,” Mac said.

  Titus said he would stay with Paris until Mac returned, a suggestion that seemed perfectly reasonable to everyone except Paris. Her smile faltered when she realized that she would be alone with the man she was trying to avoid. Her eyes turned to Ruth in a silent plea and Ruth just squeezed her shoulder and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

  ‘Talk to you tomorrow, sweetie,” was all she said before taking Mac’s arm and going out to the waiting Jaguar, which Mac had thoughtfully started for her so it would be nice and warm. Once he had her seated, he waited until she pulled out of the drive before getting into his vehicle to follow her. There was something comforting in knowing Mac was just a car’s length behind her. Despite the fact that she was a totally independent woman who wasn’t looking for a serious entanglement, she had to admit she enjoyed the feeling of being cared for even if it was just a little while. And this is precisely why I should have avoided this man like the plague, she thought. But even that pragmatic thinking wasn’t enough to remove the smile from her face.

  She was still beaming when she parked at the top of Clay and Bennie’s long driveway and Mac took her hand to help her out of the car. Her ungloved hand enjoyed the heat and strength of his touch and they walked to the door, chatting amiably as they did so. She liked looking at him, liked the way he carried himself and the sound of his voice. And she liked it even more when he took the keys from her hand to open the door for her. But before he performed that little task, he leaned down and kissed her very gently on the lips.

  He murmured an apology, saying, “I shouldn’t have done that without asking.”

  By way of an answer, Ruth pulled his head down to her level and kissed him back, softly but firmly. “There,” she said. “Now we’re even. I didn’t ask, either. Would you like to come in for coffee? Then we can ta
lk about our lapse of manners and what we can do about it.”

  In a short time they were seated in the now-empty family room, drinking the herbal tea they’d opted for instead of coffee. They sat next to each other on a long leather couch and enjoyed the fragrant steam that emanated from the big mugs almost as much as being with each other. Ruth had one leg curled up and the other one was stretched out long and lissome so that anyone who happened to be interested in a glance could get it easily. In this case, it meant that Mac could look with great admiration while they talked. The conversation was easy and varied; they talked about a little of everything. Finally they both put their cups on the coffee table and Mac took her hand.

  “What do you think, Ruth?”

  Ruth knew what he meant and answered him honestly. “I think this was a wonderful idea and I think I should buy Paris a really nice gift to thank her. A small island or a private bank or something,” she told him.

  “I agree. I’m thinking of declaring a national holiday in her name,” Mac replied, squeezing her hand gently. “I’ve never enjoyed being matched up with anyone,” he admitted. “Blind dates just weren’t my thing, the whole idea made me uncomfortable. But I think Paris knew what she was doing this time.”

  Ruth’s only answer was to move a little nearer to Mac at the same time he moved closer to her. They were touching now, the heat of his long, lean body warming hers and the faint aroma of his expensive cologne igniting her senses. She could feel a potent and unexpected response to him, a complex chemistry that lit her up from the inside and she closed her eyes to receive the kiss they were about to share.

  “Are they kissin’ yet?”

  “I can’t see, move over!”

  Ruth’s eyes flew open and she leaned over the back of the sofa to confront the source of the interruption, her great-nephews Marty and Malcolm. They were identical twins, absolutely adorable to behold unless they were up to some mischief, which they usually were. “What are you rascals doing out of bed?” she asked the curly-haired little snoops.

  “We wanted to get some water,” Malcolm began.

  “And we wanted to see if you were gonna kiss,” Marty finished. They abandoned their hiding place behind the sofa and came around to the front so they could clamber onto Ruth’s lap.

  “Why did you need a demonstration? Are you taking lessons or something?” Mac was amused, not embarrassed, which gave him big points in Ruth’s book.

  Marty assured him they didn’t need lessons. “Everybody kisses all the time around here. Mommy and Daddy kiss all day long. All of our aunties and uncles kiss, they kiss a whole lot. Were you getting ready to kiss?” he asked innocently.

  Mac reached over and ruffled the little boy’s hair. “Yes, we were until you little fiends decided to block. Something tells me you’d better get back in the bed before your parents realize you’re running loose.”

  “Sorry about that, Judge.” The new voice was Trey, the oldest Deveraux child. Looking sternly at his little brothers, Trey demanded that they apologize. They did so at once, looking so cute in their cotton pajamas it was hard to believe they’d actually transgressed in some way.

  “We’re sorry,” they chorused. Trey smiled grimly and made a gesture with his thumb that meant “hit it” and the little boys recognized it at once, planting big smacks on Ruth’s cheek before dashing up the stairs. Trey followed at a more sedate rate, but not before giving his uncle a huge smile. “Youjust go back to what you were doing,” he said helpfully. “I’ll make sure they stay put.”

  Ruth and Mac looked at each other and burst out laughing, but Mac recovered first. He put his hands around her upper arms and pulled her into a close embrace. “Now where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?”

  Chapter 3

  The next morning Ruth was seated at the breakfast bar in the sunny kitchen with her niece. Bennie was firm in insisting that Ruth not lift a finger to help prepare breakfast. “I understand the dynamic duo interrupted your date last night, so you just take it easy. My way of apologizing for my curious little ones,” she said, shaking her head. As she was stirring the batter for pancakes, she tilted her head to the right and looked at her aunt with open curiosity. “So what exactly were they interrupting, Aunt Ruth? I just need to know, umm, how severely to punish them,” she muttered into the bowl.

  Ruth laughed at the disarming expression on Bennie’s face. “Now I see where they get it from! I don’t remember you being so curious when you were a child, but I think you’re making up for it now.”

  She got up from her seat and went to the refrigerator, taking out two ruby red grapefruit, two huge navel oranges, a bunch of white grapes and a couple of apples. “I’m going to cut up some fruit. I always need to keep busy when I’m being interrogated,” she said dryly.

  “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Bennie said as she preheated the griddle. “But just tell me if you had a good time. Was I right about him being a nice guy or what?”

  Ruth smiled a dreamily private smile while she sectioned the grapefruit over a large clear glass bowl. “Nice” didn’t even begin to describe Julian Deveraux. Ruth had spent most of the night reliving every single moment of the evening, right down to the moment when he pulled her into his arms for their first real kiss. She dropped the small fruit knife she was using into the bowl and had to fish it out while trying to look nonchalant. The feel of his lips, the taste of him, the nearness of him.. .she dropped the knife again and the sound of Bennie’s laughter brought her back to reality.

  “You know what I think Aunt Ruth? I think someone had a very nice time last night, much better than they expected,” Bennie teased.

  “And what makes you think that? Because I’m drifting off into space and dropping utensils and making a mess of a simple fruit bowl? Or is it because I’m over here grinning like a Saturday fool going to a Friday market?” Ruth laughed and rinsed her hands off at the sink, patting them dry on a paper towel before tackling the fruit again. She was saved from further comment, however, when Braxton, the Deveraux’s house manager, entered the back door with a fantastic floral arrangement, which he handed to Ruth.

  “I met the florist in the driveway. Whoever sent it has excellent taste, Ms Bennett. It looks like it was custom-made for you.”

  “I keep telling you to call me Ruth,” she murmured as she took the flowers from his outstretched hand. Putting them on the counter, she admired them with her heart in her eyes. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d gotten flowers and she’d never received anything like this. These were they most unusual flowers she’d ever seen in her life. They were arranged in a tall rectangular crystal vase in a very pale shade of green. All the flowers were also green. There were cymbidium orchids, hydrangeas, tulips and freesias in various shades of green from palest celadon to delicate jade. Ruth was stupefied. She was about to take the card out of the little Blossoms by Betty envelope and read it when Bennie handed her a cordless phone. She looked at the phone like she’d never seen one before, and then looked at Bennie, who was trying very hard not to laugh.

  “It’s for you, sweetie. I guess you didn’t hear it ring because you were too busy with those beautiful blooms,” she said as she went to examine them closer.

  Ruth finally collected herself enough to put the phone to her ear. “Hello?” Her voice sounded breathy and girlish and she could have kicked herself. But the person to whom she was speaking didn’t seem to notice at all.

  “Good morning, Ruth. I hope you slept well.”

  Her eyes widened as an unexpected shiver went down her spine at the sound of Mac’s deep voice. “Good morning, Mac. I slept wonderfully well and I was greeted by the most beautiful flowers I’ve ever seen. I have a feeling you know something about them. Am I right?” she asked flirtatiously.

  “First of all, I thought you were going to call me Julian,” he said reproachfully.

  The shiver returned, but this time it was deeper and more tingly. It was true; when Paris introduced Ti
tus to her father he’d told the young man to call him Mac or Judge, that no one called him Julian. Ruth had protested, saying that she loved the name Julian and she thought it suited him. He had turned to her and said, “You can call me Julian if you like. Anything that pleases you.” The memory of the sexy look in his eyes when he uttered those words brought a hot blush to her cheeks, but she kept her voice steady as she replied.

  “You’re right, Julian. I do think the name suits you perfectly. An elegant name for an elegant man,” she purred.

  “Aw, now you’ve got me all red in the face and sweaty in the palms. You’d better behave yourself or who knows what I might try with you,” he said with a sexy laugh.

  “Julian, I’ve got the feeling you have the potential to be rather dangerous. First you send me these incredible flowers and now you’re flirting with me. I may need a chaperone when I’m with you,” she laughed.

  “I think I can be trusted but we can put that to the test today. How about starting with lunch and seeing where the afternoon takes us? I’ll pick you up at about twelve-thirty, is that good for you?”

  Ruth looked fondly at the exotic bouquet and let his voice work its magic on her. “It’s perfect. I’ll see you then, Julian.”

  Mac ended the call and would have continued to sit in the comfortable chair in Paris’s living room with a satisfied smile on his face, but his daughter wouldn’t cooperate. She was sitting cross-legged on her chaise longue with most of the day’s newspaper spread out around her while she studied the Target sale flyer intently. As soon as she heard him hang up the phone, however, it was on.