Zia Carter… Family Home, southern outskirts of Alice, Texas

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Her switch flipped on when the gift hit her hands. Gone was her hypervigilance to reveal the polished Zia. Conditioned to play the perfect companion, instincts took over.

“You didn’t have to do this. They’re lovely.”

Though her words were forced and practiced to her ear, they flowed with seamless effort meant to stroke the male ego. The man lingered, too close.

As the gift fit for a celebrity exchanged hands, the handsome, rich, and suave male visitor seemed content to invade the space she cordoned off as her intimate zone.

Not so fast there, Buddy. You’re not in with a bouquet of roses, no matter how expensive. Never gonna be that easy—not with me.

Zia Carter took the huge bouquet of expensive flowers with a fluid grace born out of years growing up as her mother’s daughter. Just like her mother to present the cream of the crop when it came to male suitors.

This battle she fought was between her and one Mrs. Leila Carter. Her mother was undoubtedly the biggest influence on her life. Whether Leila’s influence was good or bad wavered with the day in Zia’s mind. Today that influence was suspect.

She gave a quick glance over to the man standing near enough for her to feel his body heat. Whether he knew it or not, he was an unwitting knight hustling about on the chessboard of her mother’s design.

“Come in and make yourself at home.” The common courtesy statement rolled off Zia’s tongue like the well-practiced habit it was.

“Thanks, but first let me get a look at you.”

Ah, so this wasn’t a nosy gloating call, it was a courtly one. Interesting.

Well, at least Zia could do this in her sleep—usually. She tapped into the practiced comfort of playing the perfect object of men’s affection to get her through the visit.

Zia offered a smile, meant to be pleasant but she wasn’t sure it didn’t convey the ‘back off’ screaming in her head. Instead of overtly sidestepping, she did what any pro at the dating game would do—she stalled to regain the upper hand.

“Sure thing. Let me get the flowers placed in the best location first.”

Taking her hint, he obliged and gave her space. Yeah, Leila came to play, pulling out the stops with this move. Her mother was hell-bent on producing a top-notch campaign to sway her into staying—and married off to the suitor of Leila’s choosing. Zia was sure of it with this move. The man standing before her was a closer of the strongest kind.

The gauntlet was thrown, and the chess game was well underway. Her mother intended for Zia to never leave again—at least not without the man of Leila’s choosing and loyalty.

His eyes tracked her every movement. Zia ignored him to attend to the roses. Their fragrance perfumed the air in a heady mix of rose and floral accents.

She couldn’t do this. It was too soon to jump back in and be or pretend to be herself.

Zia’s new smartwatch thumped against her wrist again. The bell of impending danger registered for what it was. Her therapist had given it to her as a way to track, monitor, and manage her body ’s as of yet unexplained physical episodes that started after the kidnapping. Zia jumped a little when it started vibrating and lighting up. The signal meant she had a second or two to get ready for whatever was about to happen.

And like that, her tormentor was activated as her next breath failed to come. Zia stopped all movement as potential doom converged to rob her of control. The shallow smile Zia had plastered on her face froze in place. The next moment could become very dicey if she didn’t keep it together.

In a snap of a finger, her breath failed to maintain its life-giving rhythm. Her waking nightmare was happening again. Zia resisted the urge to claw at her throat as invisible hands squeezed hard against it.

The therapist said the sensation was part of a little parting gift of PTSD from her kidnapping ordeal from almost a month back. Even still, it always threw her for a loop as the frightening feeling of suffocating clamped down on her ability to breathe.

He watched her with intense curiosity. Gentlemanly manners kept him quiet as she regained her footing and sense of presence. Good, at least he hadn’t forgotten how to behave.

One thing was for certain. She had a clear, immediate goal. Zia would get free of the invisible torturer who rode her hard at the most inopportune times. Never again would she fall prey to anyone.

Rich rose fragrance invaded her scent sensors to overthrow the breath thief. The heady mixture of flowers and spiciness of expensive male cologne played nicely off one another in a tantalizing spell, enough to pull her back from the brink of madness.

One thing she knew: Zia would find a way to get her life back by starting from scratch. This time she’d build a bigger and better business. Oh, and rehab her tastes in men. This needed to be as far away from everyone and everything that were massive stressors. The only issue was making sure she knew which people and what things to put on that list.

Weight from the vase of flowers that intensified with each second refocused her on the task at hand. Good, her body hadn’t gone into a full-on Twilight Zone reenactment.

Thankful for the reprieve, she decided.

Zia would play the game with her male visitor for now. Situations like this one needed to be put up for examination of how she’d live the rest of her life. Whatever happened, it had to be on her terms and far from danger.

Once her body rebounded to normalcy, she jumped back in to do the flirting tango he expected. Zia shifted the roses to give him access to a full view of her face. Practiced to precision, Zia launched her showstopper smile his way. With an unobstructed view this close to her, he got the megawatt experience.

Even without a stitch of makeup, Zia knew she’d landed the optimal reaction, based on the beaming smile stretching his face into impossible angles. Yep, that smile was the money shot she’d perfected over many years, pageants, and suitors.

Heft of the flowers had her moving to place them. The vase resembled one given to a diva after an awe-inspiring performance. Exquisite and able to hold their own as the attention grabbers they were, she expected nothing less from their source.

He’d been the man starring in many of her girlhood dreams of a knight in shining armor. Contained in this intimate circle of his aura and manipulated orchestration, she could still feel hints of attraction toward the prize catch of Alice, Texas. He was a hunk by any woman’s estimation. Plus, there was no denying he still had the gift of the handsome with the necessary add-on of old money on his side. His expensive cologne wafted in again reminding Zia of his impeccable taste and culture.

Fighting the embarrassing urge to curtsey, she opted to shut up and resume her quest to find the best place for the flowers. Willing herself to return to the confident woman who always received expensive gifts from adoring men, Zia stood taller and channeled Leila.

Flinging off the rustiness of not being around male attention for a few weeks, Zia commanded herself to return to the woman she’d grown into and not the girl she’d left behind. She wouldn’t forget all her home training and run the risk of her mother charging in to salvage the exchange.

Without turning back to face him, she lobbed small talk meant to show interest. “I hope you didn’t make the long drive here just to see me.”

“And what if I did? No distance is too far to come to you.”

She had to give it to him, the guy was quick-witted and smooth as ever. Her, not so much.

Rusty and looking for something else to say, Zia made sure to make more fuss over how beautiful the flowers were without bringing attention to the copious amounts of humongous, perfect, blood-red roses that were the stars of the arrangement.

Roses this red trumpeted his self-assurance that she was available and willing to go back to life in the trophy case of one Mr. Jeremy Alvarez. She couldn’t hate on him though. He had to know he was her first outside visitor in the few weeks since she’d come home to recuperate.

No matter what her mother protested, that coveted spot had been bequeathed unto him, thanks to the insistence of her mother. That woman used guilt like a well-train sniper. Leila Carter never missed her mark.

This meeting with Zia’s first real boyfriend was no different. Leila wanted her to meet with him. Him being here was another shot meant to erode her resolve to do anything but stay here close to home—forever. He was here, and she was the dutiful daughter, spruced up like she was in another one of the many pageants her mother had entered her in during most of her growing years, ready to wow and dazzle. Strong reminders of why she’d left the next day after high school graduation danced in her head.

In the opulent family living room her mother only opened for important or special guests, Zia felt more like a prized cow on display than the successful bakery owner she’d become.

“I have to get out of here.” Thankful it was low enough to go unheard from where he stood she made a fuss over the lighting for the bouquet.

“What’s that?”

“Oh, nothing. I said I have to get more light in here.”

Zia made a showy to-do to open the sheer curtains of the nearest window.

“Let me help with that.”

“No worries, I’ve got it.”

“You sure do,” he said, hints of lusty admiration in his tone.

Zia had no doubt he referred to her ample ass. Stretched in this position with her back to him, he had a full-on view of her jean-clad backside. The swarm of pride that she could still make him pant and fawn over her rose up like an addict’s fix.

Fighting the confusing need to escape from Jeremy’s blatant attempt to woo her, while needing the adoration and near worship he offered, Zia took a few more moments to ogle the meaningless flowers. Once her ability to think returned, she cleared the space of the room to a table next to one of the big double windows that let in an amazing amount of natural light. That was one thing about this room she’d always loved. The flowers looked amazing as they caught the early afternoon sun in perfection.

Turning in time to catch the heated look of undeniable appraisal, lust, and need, Zia ignored the sexual vibes the man cast her way. His attention was the everyday norm with straight men and something she could handle even on her sick bed.

It was the expectation and pressure to do the “right thing to settle down with a good man who can take care of you,” as her mother had stressed over and over, that Zia couldn’t stomach.

Jeremy patted the seat next to him on the sofa. “Come, sit. Let’s catch-up.”

The need to continue to stall was heavy upon her. She’d sit when she was ready and not when he told her to.

If he could, Zia was sure Jeremy would clunk her on her head and drag her out of here to play house with him in Corpus Christi.

With her mother’s incessant blabbering since she’d been home, Zia had learned that he was a successful oil rights broker with connections to the major movers and shakers in the industry. That wasn’t the juicy part though.

Gossip hounds said that his wife, the pure-bred Latina he’d dumped her for to marry, had left him and town, leaving him after their small son had passed in a mysterious accident.

Zia could see the swirling fingers of hope curling in the air as he continued to look for ways to get back into her good graces. Jeremy cast furtive looks of longing as she admired the arrangement.

“I don’t know where you managed to find such a bouquet, but each flower is exquisite.”

“It’s the least I can do. You’re home, and I’m not going to miss my shot again.” Jeremy launched one of his smiles that used to make her weak in the knees. A faint but sickly-sweet smell of hungry determination commingled his words with the fragrant flowers. “When your mother told me about your ordeal, I knew I had to come over and make sure you were all right for myself.”

“Again, that wasn’t necessary.” Zia needlessly adjusted the heavy vase situated on one of the tables her mother kept in the living room that boasted family pictures and knick-knacks.

The bouquet now resembled funeral flowers spelling the end of her life away from this small town more than anything else. Remembering to put on her best behavior while her mother was in earshot, that woman was most definitely listening; she formed the next words to show appreciation without giving too much hope.

“Jeremy, I’m fine, as you can see.”

“Yes, I can. You’re even more beautiful than I remember. I’m glad nothing happened to take away your beauty. Zia, you’ve always been the most beautiful lady in Texas.”

“Jeremy, aren’t you laying it on thick?” Her laugh floated across the room, giving him a smile of hope. Zia would calm it down a bit with a little self-deprecation. “I don’t think the legend of Beyoncé or her Beyhive,” then she remembered who she spoke with to amend the statement, “Or Selena, would take too kindly to your assessment. They’ll always be the biggest stars to come out of south Texas. You know that. Plus, I’m not too sure I qualify as a beautiful woman anymore.”

Faint bruises and scratches from when the friends of her best friend, Wren, rescued her remained visible from her face on down the sides of her body. She had no doubt they would completely disappear soon, but vivid scars within haunted her like the enticement of freshly baked pastries every time she stayed still too long.

They also couldn’t take away from the fact that she was at least sixty pounds thicker than she’d been in high school. As a luscious, curvy woman of color with a body and booty like pow, and a face like wow, let many of her admirers tell it, Zia wasn’t suffering from any major hang-ups about her looks or curves. In most races, she could hold her own.

No, she recalled that Jeremy liked them tiny enough for him to pick up and toss around in the bedroom that gave her pause.

Standing almost barefoot in her house slippers, Zia was barely an inch or so shorter than the man, and she could be in strong contention for tossing him around in the bedroom. He was sinewy, retaining his slim athletic build from their youth. Jeremy was almost the direct opposite of Greg Griffin. Greg, the golden, gorgeous giant, who’d been her main rescuer remained ever present in her thoughts and dreams.

Where Jeremy was the average height of around five feet eleven inches with the regionally requisite jet-black Latin hair and dark looks, Greg had this Nordic Viking thing going on with rugged looks highlighted by the brightest blue eyes, fierce danger, quiet mystery, and the massive body of a golden giant going on.

At the fresh thought of Greg, a sensual tingle of excitement zinged through Zia’s body, producing an involuntary shudder of delight.

Jeremy Alvarez couldn’t be sneezed at, though. He’d been her first love, forever holding that dear place in her memory. He was the star everything of the town with the backing of his family’s local power and money. There was a time she would have done anything to have him almost groveling at her feet to be with him. He was the ultimate catch and had chosen her as his girlfriend.

“A penny for your thoughts?” Jeremy was back at her side, breaching her invisible line of private space again.

The voice cut through her musings to bring her back to the room and the fact that Jeremy stood close enough to kiss her. Sidestepping to find a seat on the sofa, Zia threw over her shoulder, “Oh nothing. Come sit and catch me up on what you’ve been up to.”

Dutifully in tune to her like the expert at playing a long game that he was, Jeremy came to sit beside her. He made sure to sit close enough for their thighs to touch as he threw an arm behind her shoulders on the back of the couch.

Zia was back to a close simulation of her old self by now. That meant she could mix it up with the best of them. So much so, she remained poised when her hair caught in the band of his ultra-expensive watch, and he snagged a few strands of hair extricating it from her mane. Instead of inching away, she turned to stare him in the eyes with her famous, hypnotically intense gaze. Not saying a word, she held his focus as his chocolate eyes tried to focus and challenge her alpha move.

If she was going to be here with a possibility of ending up as his next wife, she might as well start the interview now. He seemed to accept her challenge by reaching to grasp her hand and thread his fingers between hers.

Nice move.

Zia continued to fake her way through the exchange. She countered by turning to him and tilting her head to mimic submissive coyness. That got a smile out of him.

Her mother’s phone rang in the distance as the two continued their tango to determine their new power dynamic. Refusing to return his smile as not to show she was submissive, Zia leaned in ever so. The move was meant to see if he’d think she wanted to kiss him. To her pleasure, his eyes went to her lips but didn’t take the bait.

“I see you’re even more the vixen than I remember. Age and distance have done you well. Pure refinement—I like it.”

She couldn’t hate on him for catching her actions. It had never been said that Jeremy was slow or daft when it came to women. Good thing she’d never given into his advances to sleep with him back then.

In the recesses of her mind, Zia knew that curiosity was part of what had made him make the fifty-mile drive down here to see her. The cell phone wailed loud again, this time pulling her attention away from their little tête-à-tête.

Halfway trying to pay attention to what her mother said in the other room on the phone, Zia tossed a go-to come back to him. “What better to ensnare you with.” Tuning back into him, she noticed his interest spiked at that little ditty. She couldn’t help herself. This was turning out to be fun. Loosening the grip, he had on her hand to allow her fingertips to draw tiny circles in the palm of his hand, Zia’s inward smile was huge when he shuddered in obvious arousal.

“When was the last time you were enveloped in the three-hundred-and-sixty-degree real-life manifestation of your greatest fantasy?” She waited.

He licked his lips. “Never.”

“Never doesn’t have to be forever you know.”

He squirmed no doubt trying to make room for the hard-on she gave him. Zia had seen that look too many times before to mistake it.

“When do you think forever will make its long-awaited appearance?” His whisper was so breathy and pregnant with wanton lust, Zia had to restrain the triumphant smile that wanted to burst forth and plant a flag of victory on the top of his head.

Good.

She had the assurance she needed. He definitely wanted her more than the other way around. Still that wasn’t enough to center her back into her old confident self.

Before she could respond with the final blow to any controlling power, he’d have in their interactions her mother came into the room, holding the phone and looking perturbed.

“What’s this, Mami?”

Leila Carter flashed an apologetic smile at Jeremy, but not before looking down at his lap to see what Zia was sure was his rock-hard cock. Keeping her cool as only her mother could, Leila handed the phone to Zia.

“It’s for you. She says it’s important.”

“Who is it?”

“Some woman from Atlanta that helped with your… accident.” Leila fumbled with the right word to describe why Zia was back home.

Her kidnapping was another ordeal she couldn’t bring herself to broach with her parents. One major event in her life was enough for them to try to deal with.

“Oh!” Zia sat up, thinking it might be her friend Wren. “Hello?”

The voice of the older woman that answered was oddly familiar.

“Good, finally, there you are, young lady!” The voice made a little happy sound before adding, “Hello, Zia, this is Miss Connie from The Diner, and I needed to get in touch with you. It’s very important.”

Unable to breathe for a moment, Zia took a beat before speaking again. What was so important that this woman had managed to find her in Texas and on her mother’s cell phone?

“You—how did you find me?”

“Oh, that—not important. What is important is that you come back to Atlanta, now. Greg hasn’t quite been himself since you left without a proper goodbye and I suspect there are some great new happenings with Wren that you’ll want to be here to witness. I wanted to give you a few weeks to regroup, but it’s time you got back in the saddle and face your life and destiny, don’t you think, hun?”

Her destiny? What was this lady smoking? Zia hadn’t even gone home to pack anything in her apartment. When she’d been released by Miss Connie as well enough to leave, and Hildy had talked with her and determined that she could handle what had happened, Zia had rented a car and driven straight home to her family home.

For some reason, Hildy had it in her head that she had a power that would erase Zia’s memories of the ordeal. Even if that were true, Zia wanted to remember everything. She wanted never to forget how stupid she’d been to let her guard down and allow a guy like Patrick to fool her so convincingly.

No, the next man she was with had to prove he was strong, capable, sane and safe enough to be with her. One thing she’d seen and told no one was that Greg wasn’t what he appeared to be either. Her deep secret shame was that she was still as attracted to him as ever—probably even more since he’d been the one to do most of her rescuing.

Feeling the energy of two pairs of eyes scrutinizing her every word and action, Zia had to end the call fast.

“Zia, I can hear the wheels turning in that mind of yours from here. Trust me; you’ll only regret it if you miss this window of opportunity. The Goddess is gracious, but ain’t about to usurp your will. It seems like you can’t talk as freely as you’d like to, but if you want to take me up on seeing what could be, I suggest you hightail it back here to Atlanta as soon as possible. If you don’t trust the words I speak, trust your gut and move, hun.”

Visions of seeing Greg again massaged hidden tension from her body. Safety snuggled her with a new layer of protection. She might not know for sure all he was, but rescuer was in the definite column.

Her feelings rebounded to focus on one thing, seeing if there was any hint of attraction he had for her. Yes, it felt good to slip into her confident skin again.

Bow down bitches, I’m back.

Mojo neared to reconsider her eligibility. It landed a solid kick to push panic back to the shadows as her mind began to whirl with hope and excitement.

“What are you talking about? I need to come back to Atlanta for an important meeting about everything that happened?” Zia found herself asking for the benefit of her listeners.

If nothing else, Miss Connie was quick on the draw. “Yes, hun, I know that you can’t talk, but you understand exactly. Don’t worry about anything but getting here. I’ll take care of the rest. How about I see you in a few days? That should be enough time for you to get on a plane or drive back, right?”

Determined to reconnect with herself, Zia heard the words tumble out of her mouth. “Yes, that’s right. I’ll see you in two days, at your location.”

Once the line disconnected, she tossed the phone. It landed somewhere outside the reaches of her concern on the sofa. The scene before her slid into the background of her plans to travel back to Atlanta. Her body buzzed like it was alive for the first time in a while.

Looking at two stunned set of eyes, Zia had to break the news. “I have to go back to Atlanta for an important meeting.” The supplemental information that would solidify the trip hopped to the forefront of her mind. “Oh, and I have to pack up my apartment and handle some things.”

Zia noticed the happy tears flooded her mother’s eyes. Leila had to be ecstatic at hearing that she’d be packing up her place there. Zia hadn’t meant for the woman to make the jump from her packing to that meaning that she’d decided to move back home.

Jeremy patted her on the thigh. Instinct drove her to shift away. His cockiness knew no bounds. What the hell? He wasn’t guaranteed to be on the list of recipients of her time and attention if she came back.

She took a second to see the smiling faces beaming smiles of different intentions as she gathered herself to prepare to scoot on up out of here.

What was it with these two? Were they in cahoots with some nefarious plan to get her back home and on lockdown? Too excited to divert her attention to that, Zia stood, making it clear her visit with Jeremy was over.

“As you can see, I have to get ready to make the trip back to Atlanta. Thanks so much for coming all the way over here from Corpus Christi to check on me.” Zia gave Jeremy one of her smiles she used when she wanted a guy to go away but not think she was getting rid of him.

He complied, smiling like he’d won some ground with her. No matter, all she could concentrate on was the fact that Miss Connie had said Greg wasn’t doing too well and that it had something to do with her. She needed to get back there and see him for herself.

Even if it might be for the last time, she owed it to herself to see if there was some destiny waiting for her with Greg.