CHAPTER 48
But all the while, she couldn’t help but wonder if the feel of his kisses still lingering on her skin revealed the true story: that where Darius was concerned, she wasn’t in control of anything at all.
“No, Miss Adler,” Nathalie’s client said to her over the phone the following afternoon,
“there’s no way I can get there earlier. My son is sick, so I couldn’t take him to day care. But my husband will be home by five, and it will only take me fifteen minutes to get to your office.”
Nathalie breathed deeply, then calmly replied,
“That’s fine. These things happen, and I hope your son feels better soon.”
Hadn’t she run into the same problem when Zion wasn’t well? Illness was the bane of the working parent’s existence.
But the meeting delay left her in a real bind. She was supposed to pick up Zion from his after-school job at the grocery store at five. Finding someone to take over the task with two hours’ notice late on a Thursday afternoon would be difficult. There was no way she could make it to the store, then back to the office that quickly in rush-hour traffic. And she couldn’t postpone the meeting,
either. Not when she had a position open that Casey’s resume indicated she’d be perfect for, and the
first-round interviews shut down tomorrow.
She called Tanya, who didn’t answer, probably because she was in class. After leaving a message,
Nathalie mentally tapped her fingers waiting for a return call, but when it didn’t come after twenty
minutes, she knew she had to find an alternative.
For some crazy reason, the first person she thought of was Darius.
Actually, it wasn’t all that crazy, given that she hadn’t stopped thinking about him since Wednesday
morning. To be honest...she hadn’t actually been able to stop thinking about him since the day he’d
raced into their lives a month ago.
He’d told her to call if she needed anything. Had he meant it?
She picked up the receiver on her land line, holding it to her chest a moment, the dial tone vibrating
against her as she thought about Darius promise on Wednesday morning—that he was saving up his
fully unleashed passion for her and the next fast ride they took together. She didn’t care that some
might say it lacked the romance of moonlight and rose petals on a big, soft bed. Sex in a car, the
almost clandestine nature of it, actually excited her more. As had the quickie in her living room,
which had taken her to a level of heat she’d never experienced before.
Even after kicking him out to prove the point that he didn’t hold all the power, she’d still ended up
working in a dreamy daze all day. He’d made their quickie on her couch all about her. What kind of
man put his own pleasure second? Could it possibly be the kind of man who would help her out of a
tight bind that had nothing whatsoever to do with sex?
She punched in his cell number, and he answered on the second ring. “Nathalie, I was just thinking
about you.”
All he had to do was say her name in that sexy drawl and she melted like an ice cube in the
summertime. It suddenly occurred to her that he might have picked up the call assuming she had
something sexy to say to him. But since he knew how important her brother was to her, she hoped
he wouldn’t be too surprised when she said, “I have a huge favor to ask. I’m supposed to pick Zion
up by five at the grocery store where he works, but I’ve got a meeting I can’t miss.”
“I’ll get him.”
Just that quickly, her heart swelled in her chest, the same way it had last Saturday when he’d been
so kind to Zion while working on the Maserati. His sweetness had prompted her instant decision to
take a risk by spending a few hot nights with him. It meant a great deal to her that Darius didn’t ask
questions, didn’t make excuses. He simply offered to help.
At the same time, however, she knew running a billion-dollar corporation couldn’t be at all easy.
And he’d already given her and Zion so much of his limited free time. “I thought you might have a
driver? Or that maybe Mrs. Oswald could do it? I’m sure you’re probably still up in the city and I
know how busy you are.”
“I’m happy to do it, Nathalie.”
She’d called him to ask for help, and now that he was giving it so freely—and she needed it so
badly—she stopped trying to talk him out of it. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.” He had no idea
how much. Not since her parents died had she been able to pick up the phone and call someone who
would bail her out so quickly and easily. Not until Darius.
He was too good, a dream come true. She didn’t have anything to offer in return. Except for sex. It
shouldn’t make her smile to think of paying off her debts in his bed, but lately, everything about
Darius made her smile. “If you can drop him off at the house, I should be home by six-thirty. He’ll
be fine until then.”
“No, I’ll stay until you get home. I know you don’t like him to be alone. Don’t worry about a thing
tonight. I’ve got it covered.”
And maybe, she found herself hoping, even though she’d already had far more than a sensible quota
of him for the week, he was also staying so that he could spend time with her, too. “Thank you,” she
said again. “You’re sweet.”
He gave a burst of incredulous laughter. “No one has ever called me sweet in my entire life.”
“But you are.”
“Believe me,” he said in a voice that was suddenly serious, “I’m not sweet. But I promise I’ll
always do whatever I can for you and Zion.”
Darius made a lot of promises. And though Nathalie was still wary of letting Zion—or herself—get
hurt, Darius hadn’t broken a single one yet.
* * *
The grocery store was only a ten-minute walk from Nathalie’s house. Darius figured Zion could
probably have handled it just fine, but he knew Nathalie would have worried the whole time. It
wasn’t Darius business to say anything about how she handled her brother. Besides, hearing her
voice over the phone had been the best thing that had happened to him all day, and even if he’d just
blown off several meetings, he wanted to see her more than he wanted to sit in on a conference call.
Not to mention the fact that he’d been able to hear her desperation when she’d asked him for the
favor...along with a note in her voice that told him she’d expected him to say no.
Darius loved surprising Nathalie. In fact, his plan was to keep surprising her over and over again, in
the best possible ways.
Seeing Nathalie once a week wasn’t nearly enough. And he wasn’t just thinking about the hot sex
they’d had in his garage after their date. He missed her laughter, her innate spark. He grinned every
time he thought about the way she’d kicked him out of her house Wednesday morning, loving the
way she could be so soft and pliable one moment, then strong and determined the next.
Both Nathalie and Zion added something to his life, something he couldn’t define, but that he now
realized had been missing for quite a while. It had been in that strange weariness he’d felt in the
months before meeting them, a sense that all the wealth and all the changes he’d made in his life
were no longer enough.
The traffic was bad, but fortunately Darius arrived at the grocery store before Zion's shift was over.
The place was a madhouse, with working moms rushing in and out, men with nothing but frozen
dinners in their carts, and teenagers holding six-packs of soda. Though all the check stands were
open, the lines still snaked down the aisles.
He spotted Nathalie’s brother three check stands away, loading a vast expanse of groceries into
reusable shopping bags. The mother had a child in the cart and two more were milling around
Zion’s legs. His tongue between his lips in concentration, Zion was trying to stack food carefully in
the bags, but the kids kept screaming and jumping, bumping into him and knocking him off his
rhythm. The mother shook her head, glaring at Zion with her mouth pursed.
Darius headed down to them, his immediate thought being to intercede, or even help pack the
groceries. Until he thought about the humiliation factor. Darius didn’t want Zion to think he
couldn’t handle the job. Here he’d just been thinking that Nathalie didn’t always give Zion enough
credit, like being able to walk home by himself, but rushing to her brother’s rescue now would be
exactly the same thing.
By that point, the checker, a stout woman with frizzy red hair, was furiously loading goods into
plastic bags as well, tossing them at Zion and pointing to the cart. “Come on, come on,” she
practically yelled at him.
There was too much confusion, too many people waiting. And the customer was doing absolutely
nothing to control her kids. A cantaloupe rolled down, and Zion stuffed it into the last bag.
“Do you need help out to your car, ma’am?” he asked politely.
“No, I do not.” The woman snapped her fingers, and the two kids ran like furies out the door while
the one in the cart screeched at an earsplitting volume.
Not wanting to blow Zion’s concentration, Darius was about to back off and let him finish his shift.
Until he heard the checker say, “You put that cantaloupe on top of her eggs. Can’t you do anything
right?”
“I’m sorry,” Zion said. “I didn’t mean to mess up.”
“I don’t know why they hire people like you. You’re so slow. You and your pea-sized brain. Idiot.”
“I’m really sorry,” Zion said again, his face now completely red.
“If she complains, I’m gonna tell the management it’s your fault for being the worst bagger we’ve
ever had.”
Rage welled up in Darius. His hands fisted until his knuckles turned stark white. If Zion hadn’t been
there as witness…if the clerk had so much as laid a hand on him…if Darius hadn’t damn near
annihilated the Black Warrior inside him…
Darius reached Zion’s side just as she issued the last threat. He flayed the woman with a look that
could shred flesh. “Don’t ever talk to Zion that way again. Apologize to him. Now.”
The checker’s hands stopped moving over the scanner, where she was holding a can of green beans.
She stared at Darius, openmouthed. Finally, she muttered, “I’m sorry.”
“Say his name when you apologize to him.” Darius hadn’t raised his voice, but his intent to tear her
apart with his bare hands if she didn’t fix things was crystal clear nonetheless.
“His name?” Her face screwed up. “I don’t know.”
“Didn’t you just say you work with him all the time? How can you not know his name?”
Fixing her stare on Zion, she opened her mouth, and by her narrowed eyes, Darius was sure
something merciless was about to spew out. Until she looked back at him, took in the steely set of
his mouth—and the silent threat in his eyes—and swallowed hard. “I think it’s Zion.”
“Apologize again. Properly.”
“I’m sorry, Zion.”
“It’s okay.” Zion’s face was still beet red.
Darius gave her one last look that personified the expression if looks could kill. And the clerk
clearly recognized it. “There are no idiots here.” Except her. “And I will know if you use that word
to speak to anyone here again. Ever.” He turned to Zion. “Ten minutes left on your shift, buddy. I’ll
wait for you over there.” He crooked his chin toward the door, where the checker would be in his
sights.
“Okay, Darius,” Zion said, his voice too quiet.
Watching from his spot over by the doorway, Darius was afraid he’d make Zion nervous. On the
other hand, there was no way he’d let anyone have another crack at Nathalie’s brother. But Zion did
well, with no more cantaloupe-versus-eggs incidents. He even helped an old lady out with her
groceries. She winked as she passed Darius. “You did good, sonny. That woman’s always been a
nasty piece of work.”
Of course, the checker was as sweet as apple pie for the rest of the time that Darius watched. Then
it was five, and Zion ran to clock out. When he returned, Darius slung an arm around his shoulder
as he removed his store apron. “You did real good in there.”
“I didn’t. I put the melon on the eggs.”
“They probably didn’t break. And even if they did, it was just a mistake. We all make mistakes
sometimes.” As Zion climbed into the BMW, Darius wished he’d had one of his fun cars for the kid
to enjoy. “Is it always like that in there?”
“Like what?”
“Busy. Crazy.” With nasty women calling him nasty names. Darius jaw tensed again thinking about
the madness that had almost taken over when he’d seen Zion being bullied.
“Just at the end,” Zion confessed. “Most of the time it’s fine. But around five, it’s really busy.”
Darius didn’t like it. The boy had to put up with that every single damn day. How many times had
someone called him an idiot? Darius hands were fists on the steering wheel. For so many reasons,
nothing bothered him more than watching people being bullied. “That woman shouldn’t be working
there.” His voice was a growl.
Zion fluttered his hands in the air. “Samantha didn’t do it. It’s just that her mom’s sick and she’s
going to die soon.”
He wanted to say that was no excuse for being a total jerk. Sometimes, he knew, there were reasons
why a person lost control. Not an excuse, just a reason. But he still couldn’t quite squash the desire
to flatten the woman with a cast iron skillet versus a fly swatter.
Darius had tried to tell himself he didn’t solve things with his fists anymore, but in that grocery
store, he’d been ready to run down anything in his path. It was the part of himself he still feared
lurked inside him, even after all the years since he’d ditched the gang.
“Zion—”
“Are you going to get her fired, Darius? Cause I’d feel really bad if you did.” The plea appeared as
two big furrows across Zion’s brow and a moist sheen in his eyes.
Darius didn’t want to let the woman off the hook, but for Zion he’d make an exception. “I’ll give
her one more chance. But if she treats you like that again, I need to know about it. Okay?”
“Okay.” Zion nodded vigorously.
It was time to lighten the mood. Zion needed to move on even if Darius nerves were still firing like
a racing engine. “Now, what do you say we order some Chinese? I know a great place.”
“Yay.” Zion clapped, his enthusiastic self again, as if he’d forgotten the whole thing.
Darius could only hope that he had.
“I’ll be back in the office tomorrow morning,” Darius told Mika, his Human Resources director. It
was after seven and he’d had to call her at home. “Thanks for rescheduling our meeting.” Ending
the call, Darius turned to Zion. “Enjoying dinner?”
Zion nodded exuberantly. Seated at the breakfast bar in Nathalie’s kitchen, he was chowing down
on yet another helping of sweet-and-sour pork.
“I’ve got another question for you,” Darius said. “How would you feel about a new job?”
“For me?” Zion asked, his mouth full. Nathalie likely wouldn’t be pleased with the lack of manners,
but Darius felt it meant that Zion’s guard was down with him. More like a person was with family.
“Yeah. A job for you.”
He wanted to make things better for Zion. Darius hated it when the big fish picked on the little ones.
