simply silenced her with one hand, his expression serene and
uncompromising.
“Don’t.” It was more of a request than a demand. Stephanie
paused, took a drink of her orange juice, and nodded.
“Okay.” Who the hell was she to judge what worked for
them? Hadn’t her first major relationship been a twisted anti-
romance with a kinky wannabe dominant? Though she hadn’t
seen him since college, Pace had been her go-to guy after Kevin
left her, and she’d even tried to use him as a rebound after she saw the “Fire Woman” video, but that hadn’t worked out so well.
Pace Turner had been in law school when they met. Stepha-
nie was a junior in college at the time and bored to tears; she’d been sewing her wild oats. Pace’s cocky brilliance had drawn her to him immediately—not to mention his ridiculous good looks.
He’d been old for his class, having dropped out of med school
before they met. Even his money was old, as old as one’s could
get when that person was African-American. Pace had as much
of an ego as Steph did, so their arrangement worked well for months. Like all good natural disasters, they’d burned out their 131
TAMMY COONS & MICHELLE PACE
relationship before it took on too much real steam, but they still exchanged dirty holiday cards and the occasional email until she started dating Phillip.
A couple of weeks after she saw the “Fire Woman” video
for the first time and told Cheyenne about the baby, Steph ended up on a shoot in New York. Pace lived in Boston, which was
only a few hours away, and she figured his charms would do her
a world of good. So she called.
“Hey, Red.” His deep Barry White voice sounded as if he
were in the next room. “I heard you broke up with your rock
star.”
“Ya don’t say?” Steph had been ambushed in Heathrow the
week before by reporters from The Star. When asked “How does it feel to see the “Fire Woman” video?”, she ignored them. When
she heard the follow-up question. “How does it feel to see Phillip act out your sex life with Joslyn James?”, Steph stopped and
glared into the video camera.
“Well that was obviously play-acting since she seemed to
be enjoying herself!” she’d shouted, and it now seemed to be the sound bite of the year.
Pace’s laughter ripped her back from her revived anger. “I
was wondering if I should expect a visit.”
“You sound tired, Pace. Solicitor life got you down?”
“I’m prepping for the court case. You remember—the one I went to law school for?”
“Shit, Pace. That’s fabulous news.” He’d finally had the
opportunity to take down his “big white whale” so to speak, and
she was pestering him for a booty call. She felt small and insignificant in his world for the first time ever.
“So when do I get to see you?” he asked, his tone as eager
and aggressive as ever. This was one man who saw sex as the
ultimate stress reliever, not some sort of a chore.
“I’m at my apartment at The Dakota, ” she replied huskily.
If anyone could help her forget about Phillip for a while, it’d be 132
RAGE
Pace.
As it turned out, he couldn’t. She and Pace had always had
a sexual chemistry worthy of an epic poem. What transpired up-
on his arrival in New York was anything but. They’d started
their usual rough and dirty foreplay and to Steph, it felt awkward and forced. They had even managed to get into her bedroom and
into the act, when while changing positions, he noticed her scar.
“Where did this come from? Did you get in a knife fight or
something?” he teased, and she surprised herself by bursting into tears. Embarrassed, she willed herself to stop, but the more she tried, the more hysterically she sobbed.
Pace looked both concerned and alarmed as he rolled off of
her and ran out of the room completely nude. Steph would have
laughed at that, had she been able to regain control of herself. He returned with a box of tissues and two bottles of beer. It was the most romantic thing he’d ever done for her in the entire history of….them.
Minutes later, she choked out a sentence. “Why did you
stop?”
Pace propped himself up on one massive tattooed arm and
ran his thumb across her cheek. “Nothing sends ‘the Bishop’
back to The Heartbreak Hotel faster than a crying woman.”
She laughed at that, but the sound was jarring and disingen-
uous. Even though she kind of wanted to hire a sniper to take
him out, she would have done anything to have Phillip there in
her bed with her instead of Pace. She not only missed sex with
him, but she missed everything about him. Everything about
them.
She covered her mouth as the truth landed on her like an
anvil. When she finally looked at Pace, he was studying her
thoughtfully.
“You love him.” It wasn’t a question, not in the least. She
responded with stoic silence.
For several moments, he seemed to puzzle over what to do
133
TAMMY COONS & MICHELLE PACE
with her lack of denial. Finally, his expression hardened, and he rolled off the bed I one swift motion. When he started dressing, she didn’t bother to object.
“This is the last time, Red. Don’t call me again.”
The blinding sun came out from behind a cloud, and Steph
slid her sunglasses from on top of her head down over her eyes.
She’d been very leery after the mishap with Pace, so agreeing to see Christopher had taken some serious thought. Steph tried to
put all men out of her mind as she leaned back in her seat and
picked up her coffee cup. It was impossible. Through the pano-
ramic windows, she observed the blue sky was peppered with
billowy, cotton-like clouds. Yara’s parents were swimming laps.
Another breathtaking morning in paradise, and Steph still felt
like she was looking at in a coffee table book, or watching it on t.v. She could almost hear Christopher’s amateur analysis that
she was disconnected from the experience, like she was holding
the entire island at arm’s length. She really needed to call Chris.
He’d been nothing but good to her, and she owed him an expla-
nation. As soon
