Tiago's Heart Read online

  TIAGO’S HEART

  A Night Of The Kings Novel

  Shayne Ford

  Copyright © 2019 by Shayne Ford

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, organizations and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Any trademarks, service marks, product names or named features mentioned in this book are the property of their respective owners and have been used without permission and in an editorial fashion only, with no implied endorsement.

  The publication/use of these trademarks is not associated with, approved of or sponsored by the trademarks owners.

  This book is for entertainment purposes only. The author and publisher disclaim any and all responsibility for any liability, loss, or risk, personal or otherwise, incurred as a consequence, directly or indirectly in relation to this book.

  This book is intended for mature audiences only.

  Written by Shayne Ford

  www.shayneford.com

  Twitter:@ShayneFordBooks

  Cover design by Shayne Ford

  The image on the cover is a licensed stock photo, and it is used for illustrative purposes, any person who may be depicted on, is a model.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Also by Shayne Ford

  About the Author

  1

  EVE

  “Is it someone new?” Rain asks.

  Running my hands down, I brush my soft knit dress with my fingers before I move my gaze away from the full-length mirror and meet Rain’s gaze on my phone screen.

  A smile lights up her eyes.

  “Is he?” she insists, her grin spreading across her lips.

  Her eyebrows push up slowly, surprise beaming on her face.

  “Yes.”

  My voice is clipped, a mysterious smile tugging at the corner of my lips as I shift my gaze back to my reflection.

  Knitted in the color of old red wine, my form-fitting dress sets off my toned legs and hourglass silhouette, long sleeves hugging my arms, and metallic zippers running down my forearms and my flanks, the latter highlighting my waistline.

  A round, low neckline showcases my chest, my collarbones, and my delicate neck while a curtain of hair drapes over my shoulders.

  For a moment, my memory reenacts vivid moments from the past, bringing back the feeling of his lips on my neck and chest while my arms curled tight around his torso.

  My skin begins to tingle.

  “Who is he?”

  I keep my eyes on the mirror as I carefully paint my lips in a matching shade of crimson.

  “He’s, um...”

  I pause, pretending that I needed to keep my lips still so that my lip liner doesn’t slip and mess with the contour of my mouth.

  This is definitely not a well-thought-out plan. Telling her about my ‘new’ man is risky and unnecessary.

  I can see how this innocent lie could lead to a pile of deceit down the road, and how easily I’d lose my credibility when I’d try to come clean later on.

  And at one point, I will.

  And yet, like someone who’s never been in love before I’m busy rationalizing why I need to tell Rain about him.

  For one, my heart bursts with emotion.

  I can’t contain my happiness and excitement, the positive energy surging through my life, the overwhelming feeling that makes me giddy at the simple thought of him nudging me to share my love story with her––despite all the obvious risks, because she is my best friend after all.

  Tiago Rossi lives in my mind, and my heart, and sooner or later, Rain would notice that I’m distracted all the time and smile silly for no reason, and she wouldn’t be able to explain my strange behavior, so she’d press me to tell her the truth. But that would be impossible, wouldn’t be? So I’d have to say to her even more lies.

  That’s why I thought that making stuff up about my ‘new’ man would help me avoid the hassle of dealing with her suspicion later on and put a damper on her efforts to introduce me to other people while trying to convince me to give them a chance. I also thought that it was a good way to avoid a debate on why I’d rather stay single than go out and meet other men.

  Besides all that, I wanted to be able to talk to her about my feelings and my fondness for this man.

  Even if I can’t tell her the truth or show her pictures of him or share details about his life, especially those specks of information that could easily identify him, I can still talk to her about how happy he makes me feel.

  “I met him through someone from work,” I mutter.

  “Uh-huh.”

  Her stare lingers on my face, making me feel the insidious warmth of a blush creeping across my cheeks.

  I tip my gaze to my phone.

  “Yes?” she continues, a smile tinging her voice.

  I drag my eyes back to the wall mirror and start coating my lashes with mascara. The dark shade makes my blue eyes pop in an instant.

  Her silence thickens, weighing heavy in the air and sending another rush of blood to my face.

  “He works in a different field.”

  I pause.

  “Can you tell me a little bit more?”

  Excitement flits through her voice.

  “He’s a very busy man and works a lot. Like me.”

  Her voice explodes with laughter.

  “Are you serious, Eve Malone?”

  “What?”

  I look down at the screen, grinning.

  “That’s not what I wanted to hear.”

  “What would you like to hear?”

  A foxy smile sits on my lips as I snatch my phone from the vanity and walk into a different corner of the bathroom where I open a bottle of perfume and spritz a few drops of fragrance on my wrists and neck.

  “How is he?” she asks, her eyes following my moves.

  I set myself in motion again, sauntering to the living room this time. I enter the chamber, strut across, and stop in front of one of the large windows overlooking Manhattan.

  Smoothly, I slide the plush drapery to the side and look down the street. A cold, arctic wind sweeps the sidewalks, blowing the freshly sifted snow into shimmering white clouds that float across the slabs of gray concrete.

  “He’s hot,” I say, letting the curtain fall back in place before I turn around, pick up my cup of coffee from the side table, take a few steps and gingerly, slide onto the couch.

  I still have time, I realize, as I take the first sip of aromatic drink careful not to smudge my lipstick.

  “And?”

  “And I like him very much.”

  “Yet, you can’t talk about him. What does he look like?”

  I chew on my lip for a moment.

  “He’s tall and handsome. Dark hair. Beautiful lips.”

  She looks at me, her face beaming with curiosity.

  “Do you have a picture of him?”

  Here we
go again.

  Now I have to come up with a story that makes sense.

  “He’s, um... Well, he’s camera shy.”

  “Why?”

  I ponder for a moment.

  “Is he on social media?” she asks.

  “That’s the thing. He has an online presence but mostly for work. Even on those accounts, he hasn’t posted pictures of him. Other than that, he doesn’t have a personal profile, not that I know of.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s a little bit complicated.”

  She laughs again.

  “Leave it to Eve Malone to find something complicated. You never fail.”

  I breathe out a chuckle as well, mostly to conceal my nerves.

  “I know, right?”

  I lean back in my seat, trying to look relaxed.

  Shooting my eyes to the side, I evade her gaze as I speak again.

  “He’s going through a divorce. And that’s part of the reason why he insists on keeping this affair private.”

  “Eve?”

  I look at her.

  “What?”

  Skepticism reads in her eyes.

  “A divorce?”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She no longer smiles.

  “Yes. Why?”

  “He might only say that to get into your pants.”

  “No, no. It’s nothing like that.”

  “How is it then?”

  Her voice brims with concern, enough to make me wrestle with regret because I added this twist to the story.

  “Is he really going through a divorce?”

  “Yes, he is. His soon to be ex-wife is already seeing someone else. They’re waiting to get the final papers.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  She’s not convinced.

  “Trust me. It’s real.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I bet it is, but this is a messy situation. And why would he insist on keeping his affair a secret?”

  “Um... To protect me?”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “Or maybe to protect himself?” she speculates. “And his ‘soon to be ex-wife’?” she adds, quoting the air with her fingers.

  “Maybe. But this works well for all of us.”

  “Mostly for him.”

  “Don’t be so harsh.”

  “I’m not,” she says, annoyed. “I’m not,” she repeats with a softer voice, still very much frustrated.

  The conversation seems doomed as we both start to feel bad right now–– just for different reasons.

  She’s irritated with my ‘foolish’ choice while I decry the fact that I have to lie to her again.

  We both stay quiet for a moment.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to ruin it for you,” she says in a quiet voice.

  “You’re not.”

  My voice suggests otherwise.

  “Tell me more about him,” she says, not looking at me. “If you can, of course...”

  Her faltering voice suggests that she’s trying to make concessions. Meet me halfway.

  “He’s okay. He treats me nice.”

  My words come out cold, not carrying the enthusiasm that I would’ve liked to convey to her.

  Perhaps, telling her about him wasn’t such a good idea. Or maybe I should’ve come up with a different, better story.

  The divorce twist lacks inspiration–– I admit, and it makes me look bad. I should’ve known that she’d get mad at me.

  And thusly, I have a feeling that my ploy is doomed to fail.

  “Well... What can I say? I guess you’ll have to trust your instinct,” she says, lifting her gaze to me.

  What else is there to say?

  A few moments of awkward silence tick by, filling the space with unanswered questions.

  “He might be the one,” I say, a sneaky thought slipping out of my head in a moment of distraction like an unruly child breaking curfew.

  The questions brimming in her eyes signal to me that, indeed, it was an unfortunate slip of the tongue.

  “What makes you say that?”

  I look down, evading her eyes.

  “Everything,” I murmur.

  “You really like this guy...” she says after a moment, washed with revelation.

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  She seems to ponder for a moment, and then she shrugs and continues after a brief pause.

  “Hey... As I’ve already said. You know better. At least, you’re no longer thinking about that Christian guy. In a way, it’s better than nothing came out of that story, and now you have the chance to live something real with someone who’s not caught in that sort of business. Does this new man have a name?”

  Oops. I’ve never thought about that.

  “Uh...”

  Through some sheer miracle, she utters the words that I needed to hear the most.

  “You don’t have to tell me.”

  I start to laugh. She smiles, and just like that my mood improves. Flicking her hand, she gestures faintly as if she’s had a change of heart.

  “You know what? I know how these things work. They’re never perfect. So take whatever you can, live it, love it, and pray for the best. I’m hoping that he’s not a lousy liar. As long as you think he’s not, give him the benefit of the doubt and expect good things from him. Sometimes the best stories are the messy ones.”

  “I hope this is not the case with us. Messy, I mean... ”

  “You never know. But even if it is, it doesn’t matter. Enjoy it as much as you can and let things be,” she says with a lighter voice before she continues. “So what’s the plan for tonight?”

  “He asked me out for dinner.”

  “Sounds good. Where is he taking you?”

  I shrug.

  “I have no idea. It’s a surprise.”

  “I like surprises,” she says with a more upbeat voice.

  I search her eyes for a moment.

  “Anything new with you? Other than the obvious?” I ask.

  Her face brightens with a smile.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know exactly what I mean.”

  A soft blush colors her cheeks.

  “Can you be more specific?”

  “You are glowing like a star, Rain Sexton,” I say, smiling while taking in her smooth complexion and bright eyes.

  Her shiny hair rolls down her shoulders in big waves, framing her face and setting off her sparkling eyes.

  A sweater dress the color of champagne fits her snugly.

  “Let me see you.”

  She pushes up to her feet and twirls in front of her phone before she slides back onto the couch.

  Her bump is not big enough, yet her body has changed a little. Her chest is bigger, her hips curvier.

  I smile.

  “Things must be good,” I murmur, locking her eyes.

  Grinning from ear to ear, she nods a couple of times.

  “I couldn't be happier,” she admits. “The only problem is that I’m horny all the time,” she adds, laughing.

  I breathe out a chuckle.

  “Oh, please... You’ve always been horny all the time.”

  Her chest rocks with more laughter as she runs her fingers through her hair and looks away, smiling embarrassedly.

  “I have... But not like that.”

  She shakes her head.

  “How is this different?” I ask, grinning.

  Her eyes come back to me.

  “It’s that bad?” I probe her again, cocking an eyebrow.

  “It’s good-bad,” she says. “The things we’re doing... Oh, man. I can’t believe it. And James doesn’t help me at all.”

  “What is he supposed to do?” I ask, amused.

  Her palms flip up as she softly shrugs.

  “I don’t know? Stop me?”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “Yeah, I know... But I feel bad about it. Last night, we were in a restaurant in the Casino–– it was a busi
ness dinner with a few business partners and their wives. Ed and Lex were there, too...” she says, looking down again. “I don’t know what happened toward the end. James glanced at me a few times. He looked at me in a certain way.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Sure. Blame it on him,” I mumble.

  She smiles, entertained.

  “I know. Right? Throughout the evening, I was fairly quiet, trying not to think about it. He had a dress shirt on that stretched across his shoulders and fit tightly on his chest, a light-silver tone–– almost white but not quite that. It also had a sheen to it.”

  “Oh, my God. You’re killing me with the details–– building the anticipation and what not. Just get to the point, woman. You’re driving me crazy.”

  We share a peal of laughter.

  “No, no,” she protests softly. “I have to tell you all this because I’m trying to make sense of things. You have no idea how many times I’ve played the sequence of events in my mind, trying to understand what happened.”

  “Okay. Go on.”

  I’m waiting for her to speak while chewing on my lip, forgetting that I have my lipstick on.

  “And then it was the way his pants fell on him.”

  I roll my eyes.

  “It’s the way they always fit. Half of the women in town lost their sleep over it throughout the years.”

  She can’t stop laughing.

  “Anyway...”

  She catches her breath for a moment.

  “So he looks at me in this certain way–– his eyes diving deep into mine, his fingers running down my back while his eyes slip down my body and he asks me if I’m okay. I say yes, although he clearly notices the tension brewing in my body. I have no idea why I was so stiff. I tried not to be. I had no reason to be. He made love to me before we left home. So it’s not as if–––”

  My clipped gesture makes her hit pause.

  “To the point, please. You’re getting me all hot and bothered now,” I grump jokingly.

  She chuckles before she makes an effort to keep her face straight and continue.

  “So anyway, he shifts his focus away from me, and here I am talking to Dahlia and Thea and a few other people around the table. All is good for a while, and then I shift in my seat and arch my back. Don’t ask me why? The dress I had on was hugging my chest and curves–– pretty much like the one I’m wearing right now, just in a different color. So, I’m curving my spine and push my chest out, my thighs pressed against each other when I feel myself warm and wet between my thighs. He catches my move and shoots me a lustful glance that makes my blood run faster and something inside my belly flutter. And then... Uh.... I don’t even know how to explain what happened next. The way his eyes swept my breasts and hips and legs made me yearning for him in a split second. I saw it in his gaze... He wanted me as much as I wanted him, and he knew exactly what I needed. So he pushed that smirk to his lips. You know... Lips parted, barely arched, his eyes fucking you, detonating tones of desire. You know James...”