Читать книгу Embrace My Heart - AlTonya Washington - Страница 11

Chapter 3

“Great.” Vectra veiled the murmured phrase behind a tight smile. She found herself in San Francisco again the next morning, having arranged to meet her father for breakfast. She hadn’t expected to find him with his investment banker.

Qasim caught sight of her before Oscar Bauer realized his daughter had arrived. Whatever Qasim had been saying was silenced midsentence and he purposefully scanned Vectra’s body, which was encased in a curve-hugging magenta frock.

Vectra had but a moment to flash her father a greeting smile before he was completely eclipsed by Qasim when he approached her.

“Are you okay?” He’d invaded Vectra’s space, sending her back until her shoulder brushed the wall she stood closest to in the bar entryway of the bistro.

Her tight smile returned. “I’m all right,” she lied.

“Baby!” Oscar Bauer pulled his daughter into a crushing hug and then set her back to give her an adoring once-over. Satisfied, he reached up to clap Qasim’s shoulder. “Have this guy bring you to our table when you’re done.” He shook hands with Qasim then. “We’ll get together for drinks next week.”

“Sounds good, sir.” Qasim dropped his free hand over the one shaking Oscar’s.

“Thanks for sending Oliver out to check on me,” Vectra said once her father had walked on. She observed him closely, waiting to glimpse his response and hoping she’d taken him enough by surprise to get an honest reaction.

Qasim only offered the barest hint of a smile. “You’re welcome.” He offered her his arm. “Your dad’s waiting.”

She refused his arm. “That’s it?”

The smile ghosting around his alluring mouth gained definition.

Vectra blinked owlishly. “Is that a thing men do for women they don’t want to be friends with?”

She never knew whether he’d planned to respond. They were interrupted when a slender, attractive, dark-blond man jostled Qasim.

“Sorry, guy, thought I’d be late,” the man explained, his expression softening a bit further when he saw Vectra. “Well, well, what’s up, pretty lady?”

Vectra left off the budding tension-filled conversation to greet Austin Sharpe with a hug and cheek kiss.

“What’s goin’ on? How’s the fam?” Austin kept an arm about Vectra’s waist while making his inquiries.

While they chatted and carried on like the old friends they were, Qasim worked to keep his temper at bay. Jaw clenched, he hid a fist in a deep trouser pocket.

“...and I wanted to talk to you about putting together a cocktail party at your gallery,” Austin was saying.

Vectra’s cocoa eyes sparkled. “I like it. It’d be a perfect segue for an upcoming show I’m planning. You might want to send someone over to check the place out, make sure it’s right for what you’ve got in mind.”

“Actually, Vec, it’s the Miami gallery I’m interested in.”

Her eyes were positively luminous. “Now you’ve got my attention. Why don’t we get together and discuss it?”

Austin patted the small of her back. “I’ll call to see what your schedule’s like. Are your numbers still the same?”

“They are. How long will you be around?”

“I’m trying to work about three deals.” Austin smoothed a hand across his close-shaven jaw and grinned sheepishly. “That’s why I’m meeting with this guy.” He jerked a thumb in Qasim’s direction. “Killing all my birds with the same stone and I’m even heading out to Robb’s party tonight.”

“Me, too.” Vectra slapped Austin’s arm.

He eyed her speculatively. “Guess I don’t need to ask whether you’ve got a date already?”

Vectra used a flippant shrug as her response. “Hope that doesn’t mean you won’t come? I’ll be there, and I’m sure my date won’t mind us talking for a while.”

“Mr. Wilder?”

Qasim, Austin and Vectra turned toward the host who had interrupted.

“Your table’s ready, sir,” the man announced.

Austin squeezed Vectra’s arm once the host had moved on. “I’ll take what I can get. See ya tonight.” He kissed her cheek, clapped Qasim’s arm. “See you at the table, man.”

“Shall we?” Vectra looked from Qasim to the dining room and back again.

“You’ve got a date to Robb’s party?” he asked.

Smug, Vectra leaned close, pretending to straighten Qasim’s tie. “Guess you didn’t get around to scaring everybody away from me.”

Qasim brought his hands to her waist, cupping her hips firmly enough to keep her still before him. “Don’t play this game with me, Vectra.”

“It’s not a game I started, Qasim, and since games aren’t my style, consider this as me coming clean.” She moved closer, silently commanding herself not to swoon over the feel of his hands on her body.

“We were friends. Good ones. I wanted more—by more, I mean that I wanted to sleep with you. You had to know that.” She searched his bottomless eyes for a moment before she continued. “Yeah...I believe you did, and you withdrew anyway. I can accept that, but then you tell everyone else to stay away from me like I’ve got the plague? No, Qasim, I’m not playing a game. I only have questions. I’m guessing the answers aren’t all that easy for you to give.”

She glanced toward his hands, smothering her waistline. “Excuse me?” She waited, walking away when he released her.

* * *

The attentive server smiled engagingly while Austin Sharpe praised Qasim for his banking skills. She then laughed good-naturedly when Qasim told her that given all the money he was making Austin she should expect him to leave her an outrageous tip.

“Seriously now, man, about these investments. Should I buy stock in all three?” Austin queried while adding a wealth of cream to his coffee.

“Not all three.”

“Uh-oh.” Austin grinned. “So which one didn’t make the cut?”

Qasim stirred his preferred black coffee. “None of them made the cut.”

Austin stilled, the mug halting halfway to his mouth. “You’re kidding?”

“No...but I could if you just really have a need to throw good money away on worthless stock.”

“Forget I asked.” Austin sipped on the beige-hued coffee.

“So what’s goin’ on in Miami?”

“New investors I’m trying to woo.” Austin pushed at the shock of blond hair that consistently fell across his forehead. “I want a mixer that’s off the beaten path, hence me wanting to use Vectra’s gallery in Miami Beach.”

“I didn’t know you knew her that well.” Qasim managed the comment in spite of his clenching jaw.

Austin nodded amidst a chuckle. “I was an intern for her dad’s company—the man’s brilliant. I have a lot of respect for Oscar Bauer.”

“Second that,” Qasim added.

“Hmph...for all the good it did me.” Austin sounded playfully distressed.

Qasim tilted his head. “How so?”

Austin shrugged. “Well, it’s important to bond with the father of your intended,” he smiled, “but that was useless since I fell into the dreaded realm of friendship.” He looked up as if to measure Qasim’s reaction. “You know what I mean.”

Qasim toasted the man with his mug. “Explain it to me.”

“Look at her, Sim.” Austin nodded across the sun-strewn dining room where Vectra sat with her father. “I mean, what guy in his right mind would want to be ‘just friends’ with her?”

Qasim felt his eyelids grow heavy beneath the weight of unexpected agitation and knew a bit more effort was warranted to maintain his cool. “Are you telling me that if you had the chance, you’d show her why she was making a mistake putting you in that category?”

Austin’s expression changed to one that was unwaveringly serious. “As much as I’d enjoy a physical relationship with her, I’d never want her afraid to have me as a friend.” He shook his head, sending the blond shocks of hair tumbling across his brow again. “She trusts me. I’d never do anything to jeopardize that.”

Qasim barely nodded. “That’s good to hear.” Beneath the table, he unclenched the fist he hadn’t realized he’d made.

* * *

“Just put one of those little packets on the side.”

“Daddy. No.”

“What’s it gonna hurt?”

Vectra looked at their waitress. “Thanks, Kelly, that’ll do it. No salt packets for my dad.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Kelly Dawes hid a smile as she scribbled something on her pad. “Sorry, Mr. B.,” she quietly tacked on before hurrying off to place the breakfast orders.

“Party pooper,” Oscar Bauer grumbled. “Now I remember why I rarely ask you out to eat anymore.”

“Hmph.” Vectra pretended to pout. “And I thought it was because you preferred my home cooking.”

Oscar snorted. “That, too.” He grinned and pulled his daughter close for another hug and kiss.

“So tell me about this trip of yours.” Vectra propped her chin on the backs of her hands. “Did you even take a little time out to just play around?”

Some of the light doused in the man’s long, expressive gaze. “You know playing around doesn’t have the same punch it used to when I had your mother to do it with.”

As far as Oscar Bauer was concerned, there was no woman he craved by his side other than his wife, but Rose had passed eight years prior.

“So did you give in to your obsession to acquire more land, or were you able to resist?” Vectra asked, eager to pull their thoughts away from sorrow.

“I only window-shopped.” An amused light began to creep into Oscar’s eyes, but not completely. “I wanted your advice before making any final decisions.”

“Dad?” Surprised, Vectra laughed a little.

“I’m serious, baby. It’s a place I could see spending the rest of my days. If it staggers you the way it did me when I saw it—” he shrugged “—then I’ll know I’ve found my spot. You’ve got your mother’s draw to the land. I’ll trust your reaction to it.”

“You’ve intrigued me, Daddy.” Vectra sighed in a mock haughty tone before she sobered. “Do you think the visit could wait until after this gallery show I’ve got coming up? I’ve got to visit the Miami gallery, anyway. I could detour and check out your spot before I do that.”

“Fantastic.” Oscar gave a single clap. He fixed her with an approving look and smile. “I see you haven’t been resting on your laurels while I was away.”

“Don’t you mean I haven’t been ‘hiding out’?”

“I didn’t say that.” Oscar shifted to a newer, more comfortable position in his chair. “But since you did, then yes. Yes, I am very glad to know that. I was concerned after talking to Oliver last night.”

“Right.” Vectra served up a rueful smile, at last realizing the true motivation behind the sudden invite to breakfast. “What, Dad? Did he tell you he was taking me to Robb’s party tonight?”

Oscar retrieved a minitablet from his inside suit coat pocket. “He may have mentioned it.”

“Daddy!”

“All right, all right, we talked about it, and just so you don’t go off trying to kill the boy, he actually stood up for you—told me he didn’t think there was anything we needed to be concerned about. You know how we get about you, baby. What you went through before...it did a number on us, too, you know?”

Vectra squeezed her father’s hand. The server returned with coffee for Oscar and tea for Vectra. She helped herself to several sips, waiting for the herbal blend to work its magic on the nerves her father and brother could so easily rattle with their overprotective natures.

Vectra didn’t hold it against them. They had every right to be protective of her after the nightmare she’d lived through. The fact that she hadn’t told them about it simply increased their tendency to worry that she’d suffer alone. She had discovered, though, that San Francisco and its surrounding areas encompassed a surprisingly small world. The Bauers were well-known. Word of her ex-boyfriend’s abuse, when he had taken to shaking her viciously during an argument in a popular restaurant, had quickly reached Oscar and Oliver.

“Daddy, I’m good. I’m doing fine, really.” She leaned in closer to him. “I only asked Olive to take me because I waited around too long before deciding I even wanted a date to the thing, and then all the good ones were taken.”

“I find that hard to believe.” Oscar scanned the dining room before looking her way again. “You and Sim seemed pretty close earlier.”

“Daddy...”

“Apologies, apologies.” Oscar raised his hands in a show of phony defense. “You know I have a soft spot for the boy. That’s one I wouldn’t mind for a son-in-law.”

“Hmm...and could that be because he has a talent for making you money?”

“No.” Oscar sounded playfully indignant and then he grinned. “Not entirely.”

He sobered, squeezing Vectra’s wrist.

“I know what a man looks like when he’s hopelessly around the bend for a woman. That’s the way Qasim Wilder looks when he looks at you.” Oscar shared his sage observation and then turned his focus toward the tablet, grinning when he found what he wanted.

“Lake Misurina, Italy,” he announced. “My hopeful retirement destination. Did you know that the last time Olympic speed skating was held on natural ice, this was the place it was held?”

“No, I—” Vectra blinked, working to fix her attention on the screen. “I didn’t know that.” She concentrated on what she was looking at, difficult given her thoughts were almost wholly centered elsewhere.

* * *

Qasim resisted the urge to order a straight shot of whiskey to chase his bacon and eggs. He watched Austin Sharpe head over to speak to his former mentor Oscar Bauer. Qasim habitually gritted his teeth when the man made a point of drawing Vectra into his arms while he chatted with her father. He’d already clenched his fists until his arms had grown numb. Unfortunately, looking away from the cozy scene across the room didn’t seem to be an option for him.

A dull ache hit his jaw when he recommitted to grinding his teeth. The sight of Austin patting Vectra’s hip promised to drain whatever restraint Qasim had lorded over his temper.

To say he had it bad for her seemed a pathetic description of how wildly his emotions raged when she was in his presence. He had a possessive nature that had always been a part of who he was. As a kid who really didn’t have much to be possessive of growing up, he had taught himself to stifle those emotions. It had been relatively easy. Growing up underprivileged, he had learned to wear the face of a kid who was anything but. That was before the hard work, which had brought success and wealth, allowed a modicum of those emotions to resurface, and he had indulged himself.

Even still, that possessiveness had been in relation to things. Never had it crept over to another person—a woman. Only to himself could he admit the slight fear his possessiveness had the tendency to instill. He and Vectra had struck up a friendship that had stemmed from a casual acquaintance while he’d advised Oscar Bauer on diversifying his stock portfolio. The more money he’d made the respected land developer, the more work it’d brought Qasim and the more opportunity he had to “run into” the man’s exquisite daughter.

Conversation and laughter had flowed freely between them. They’d never actually dated, but often wound up together when they found themselves at the same event. In the process of what he’d been sure had been politeness on Vectra’s part, possessiveness had reared its head for him. Those tendencies had settled in hard and fast.

He’d come to expect her company at the functions they attended. He’d keep her on his arm or within reaching distance for the duration of the event. She never seemed to mind. She was the sweetest, loveliest thing he had ever seen, but she saw him as only a friend—one of many.

She had been confused by his behavior. It was best since he obviously couldn’t rein in the stupid actions his sense of entitlement had driven him to. The way he’d behaved with Lewis Olin was proof enough of that.

Qasim muttered something foul, wishing he could kick his own ass for threatening the poor guy for simply picking up the phone to call her. She deserved an explanation, but he had no idea how to give her one now.

Oliver had been concerned when they’d gotten together for drinks several months prior. Vectra wasn’t of a mind to totally abandon her shell, and Oliver couldn’t gauge why after so long. He’d come to discuss it with Qasim. The two of them had become fast friends while Qasim had been reorganizing Oscar Bauer’s financial portfolio.

The two bottles of whiskey they’d gone through that night had loosened tongues and pickled their brains, but not so much that Qasim forgot the pain he heard in the other man’s voice as he shared his concern for his sister. Oliver was concerned that Vectra was still not venturing out on the dating scene.

Clearly, she wanted to enjoy herself, given the number of invitations she accepted. Despite the parties she’d attended and traveling she’d done, Oliver and his father could tell she was hiding, and she was too special to lock herself away.

Qasim fully agreed. He’d resisted the urge to ask out the heiress, not wanting his interest in her to complicate his business relationship with her father. The time he’d spent getting to know Vectra, however, was making that less and less of a repellant.

Then, Oliver’s loose tongue let slip an enraged curse upon the man who had “done that” to her. Qasim remembered both thanking and cursing his high tolerance for alcohol that night. Had he been more intoxicated, he may have forgotten Oliver telling him that his sister’s last relationship had damn near destroyed her. The man she’d given her heart to had chosen to reciprocate her love with his abuse.

Whatever buzz he may’ve had from the whiskey had ceased and was then absorbed by the wave of rage. He’d only gotten a last name out of Oliver before the man passed out. Thankfully, it wasn’t a last name Qasim recognized.

He knew enough, though. Not subjecting Vectra to his possessiveness became even more important after that revelation. He never wanted her to be afraid of him. He knew how much more of a possibility that could be if he let her see how little control he had over it.

He’d already blown it enough by threatening Lew. She was sure to shun him if he were to break some guy’s nose just for shaking her hand. Besides, he’d heard the stories of how a man’s possessiveness could be mistaken for love and the results it could bring. He wouldn’t subject Vectra to that.

A calmer, more rational part of his soul called out that he wasn’t that kind of man. Qasim discarded that as rubbish when he felt heat rush the back of his neck. Austin Sharpe, his arm still too snug about Vectra’s waist, was escorting her from the dining room.

* * *

“Image is everything. You know that.”

Vectra laughed while Austin relayed his lofty plans for her Miami gallery in collaboration with the event he wanted to hold.

“I’ve already had a thing on a yacht, but a gallery event would give me a chance to show off a different kind of style.”

“Is that the same thing as image?” she teased.

Austin spread his hands accommodatingly. “Of course.”

Vectra laughed, bracing a hand to his chest to steady herself.

“Vectra,” Qasim called, voice flat and deep across the lobby, drawing her and Austin’s attention.

“Sim.” Austin smiled.

Qasim didn’t spare the man a glance. “You done eating with your father?” he asked her.

“Well, I needed—” She stopped when he took her elbow, easing her out of Austin’s grasp. Vectra cast a surprised look over her shoulder to Austin and found that he seemed more amused than confused or angry.

He waved. “We’ll talk later, Vec. I need to get goin’, anyway. Catch up with you later, Sim.”

Vectra didn’t check to see if Qasim had acknowledged Austin with a look or nod. He was taking her back into the dining room.

“What are you doing?” she whispered, practically able to feel the heat radiating off him in angry waves.

“Who are you going to Robb’s party with, Vectra?”

The question caused her to stumble a bit. “Are you serious? Qasim, we need to talk.”

“We have.”

Vectra didn’t realize they’d already returned to the table until Qasim helped her back into her seat.

“Join us, Qasim,” Oscar Bauer offered.

Qasim’s hand lingered on the back of Vectra’s chair. “Maybe another time, sir.” He didn’t glance her way before he turned and left the dining room.