He helped her get Joachim out of the backseat and guided them onto the porch. He unlocked the door and went into the house ahead of them, and did a quick but discreet sweep of all the rooms. Once he was satisfied that there were no signs of a break-in, he told Amber he was going out to check the mail.
Instead of going to the mailbox, he headed across the street toward the black car. When the engine came on, he started to run, but the car sped away from the curb and down the street before he could reach it. He stood in the middle of the street trying to read the digits on the license plate, but only got four. Luckily, four was more than enough to run a search.
So his suspicions were correct. Somehow, against the odds, Dashuan Kennedy had found her. Still, he wouldn’t say anything to Amber until he decided how to handle it. He looked up and down the street in both directions to be sure there was no one else watching the house, before going back inside.
Paul went straight to his office and with special software searched for the partial plate number, but after almost an hour of searching, he still had not narrowed the list of possible matches enough to identify the vehicle.
He stood and stretched, and was surprised to find Amber standing in the doorway watching him. “There you are.” She smiled. “You went out to get the mail an hour ago, and that was the last I saw of you.”
Paul sat back down and focused his attention on the computer screen. If they were going to make this friend thing work, he would have to avoid looking at her lovely face.
“I wanted to get some work done.” He opened a file on the computer. He wasn’t even sure which one it was. “Did you need something?”
He glanced at her and noticed her smile had faded some. “No, just wanted to know what you wanted for dinner.”
He sat back in his chair. “Look, Amber, you shouldn’t feel obligated to cook every night.”
“I don’t. I enjoy it.”
“Okay.” He looked through a stack of files on the desk, pretending to look for something. “Anything else?”
She was quiet for so long, he was forced to glance at her again.
She was leaning against the doorway, her hazel eyes narrowed on his face. “Is this the way it’s going to be now, Paul?”
“What do you mean?”
“This stiffness. Like we’re strangers.”
“According to you, we’re not much more than that,” he muttered, and regretted it.
She sighed. “You know what? I don’t need this.” She turned and walked away.
Paul started to breathe a sigh of relief, and then suddenly she was there again.
“Is this why you brought me back here? So you could continue to give me the cold shoulder?” Her eyes were practically glowing. “You said if I came back here with you, things could be the way they were before. Instead, you’ve just picked up where you left off this morning.”
Paul stood and walked around the desk, heading toward her. He watched as she took a defensive stance. But instead of stopping, he walked right around her and into the kitchen. Amber tilted her head curiously and fell into step behind him.
He bypassed the playpen where Joachim was sleeping, and walked over to the freezer. He opened the door, and stood there for a moment before pulling out a frozen pack of steak. He tossed the meat on the counter, and it sounded like a brick hitting concrete. “Steak. I want steak for dinner. Happy now?”
Amber threw up her hands and groaned. She turned and headed out of the kitchen. “I knew I should’ve just checked in to a hotel!” A moment later, he heard her stomping up the stairs.
Paul leaned against the kitchen sink and hung his head. He had so many conflicting feelings racing through his tortured brain.
He took several deep breaths to get control of his temper. He knew Amber was right about the way he was treating her, but it wasn’t a conscious action.
He felt like a starving man who’d been offered a small morsel of food. By rights, he should’ve never turned it down, because a morsel was more than he’d had in a long time. But at the same time, he knew that morsel would only awaken his hunger for more. Much more.
Instead of taking it in stride as he did everything else in life, he seemed determined to make Amber pay for denying him what he wanted most.
He glanced at his sleeping son, remembering the scene that had awaited him when he arrived in the nursery that morning. He’d stopped by the bathroom to clean up, thinking that Joachim’s cry was just for attention. But nothing could describe the guilt and fear he’d felt when he walked into the room and saw his son’s little foot caught between the bars of the crib, heard Joachim crying as he tried frantically to get it free.
Paul had immediately begun to gently knead his soft flesh, while making cooing noises in an attempt to calm him. After a few minutes, he managed to manipulate the foot enough to slide it back between the bars.
He hugged his baby close to his chest. Memories of the day he’d found him in the hotel with his mother’s body flooded Paul’s mind. Only this time, it had not been Michelle’s irresponsible behavior that left him vulnerable; it had been Paul’s.
He’d allowed a temptress to seduce him into ignoring his son’s needs. The worst part was in knowing how much he’d enjoyed stroking her soft flesh, feeling her liquid warmth on his hand, how tempted he’d been to climb on top of her and take his own satisfaction. He’d blocked out Joachim’s cries for the sake of sexual gratification. And yes, she was right, some part of him even blamed Amber, for being so damn desirable.
Even now she continued to taunt him with her presence. He’d wanted her back under his roof, back within his grasp, and he’d lied to get her there. He told her they could go back to the way things were before, knowing full well that they never could.
He glanced once at the package of steaks sitting on the counter, before picking up the telephone and dialing the number of his favorite local restaurant.
Barney Roberts glanced around the small, crowded café in Studio City. He spotted the man he was meeting. After all, Dashuan Kennedy was not the kind of man to blend into a crowd. His sheer size assured that.
Barney was not surprised to see that Dashuan sat alone and unbothered. Since celebrity sightings were a common occurrence in this trendy L.A, suburb, the local residents were unilaterally unimpressed.
He maneuvered his way through the tables and held out his hand. “Mr. Kennedy, I’m Barney Roberts. What a pleasure it is to meet you, sir. I’m a big fan.”
Dashuan gave his best camera smile. “The pleasure is all mine.” He gestured to the chair across from him. “Have a seat. I understand you’re interested in becoming a part of my security team.”
Barney undid the button on his suit jacket, and sat down. “Yes, sir, I am.”
Barney had thought it was nothing more than pure luck that put him and a member of Dashuan Kennedy’s security detail at that car wash at the same time.
The man had commented on Barney’s sports car, and Barney had taken note of the late model Mustang the man was washing. When the guy mentioned that the car belonged to Dashuan Kennedy, Barney had recognized the name.
Through conversation the two men had discovered they shared the same line of work, and the bodyguard mentioned that Dashuan was looking to increase the size of his security team by one man. After being fired by Paul Gutierrez almost a week ago, Barney had barely been able to contain his enthusiasm.
“I don’t stand on formality, so please call me Dashuan.” Dashuan smiled his winning smile again. “Can I call you Barney?”
“Absolutely.”
“Did you bring a résumé?”
Barney handed over the manila folder he was carrying, feeling like an idiot for not thinking of it first.
Dashuan opened the folder and skimmed the information on the resume. “According to this, your last employer was a company called G-Force?”
There was not the slightest note of recognition in his voice. “Yes, we provide security protection for celebrities such as yourself.
My last assignment was part of the detail for Lacy Hill.” He took a long swallow from the water glass on the table.
Dashuan smiled. “Is she as hot in person as she is in her pictures?”
“Hotter.”
“Not a bad job to have. So, why did you give it up?”
Barney took another sip of water. He’d practiced this lie for two days now, trying to make it sound smooth and natural. “Well, I’m from Detroit, and my family has been bugging me to move back there.” He took another sip, thinking of the wonderful beaches he’d played along as a child…in Newport News, Virginia.
Barney had chosen that particular lie because he did indeed have family in Detroit, and thus it would be an easy lie to support if there ever became a need.
Dashuan glanced back at the file. “I see.”
While there were no eyes on him, Barney tugged at his silk tie. He felt like it was choking him. He wondered what kind of employer Dashuan Kennedy would make. He was a pretty boy, and probably spent most of his off-court time chasing women. Not that it mattered. All Barney wanted was a chance to start over. He couldn’t afford to be particular.
After a while, Dashuan put the folder down on the table. He intertwined his fingers and leaned forward. “Well, just from your résumé, I believe you could be the perfect addition to my security team, Barney.”
Barney’s face spread in a wide grin. “Thank you. You won’t reg—”
Dashuan put up a hand to still the feverent thanks. “But…”
Barney’s smile fell off his face as if it had never been there. He knew it was too easy.
“But,” Dashuan continued, “there is only so much you can learn about a man on paper. See, Barney, for me, loyalty is not only a desirable quality, it’s crucial.”
Barney frowned, wondering if he was being toyed with. Seeing how the reason Paul let him go was betrayal, he was beginning to think that maybe this was all some elaborate hoax. But just in case it wasn’t, he answered, “I completely agree.”
Dashuan tilted his head to the side, studying the other man, and Barney struggled not to squirm under the scrutiny. “Are you willing to prove your loyalty to me, Barney?”
There was something hard and flinty in Dashuan Kennedy’s eyes, and Barney was wondering why he had not seen it before now. “What do I have to do?” he asked hesitantly.
“I tell you what…” He dug in his jacket pocket for a pen and scribbled something on a napkin. “This is my offer.” He pushed the paper across the table to Barney.
Barney’s eyes widened at the figure written there. He turned surprised eyes on Dashuan, knowing that this test of loyalty was no longer a barrier. There was little he was not willing to do for that amount of money.
“You see, Barney, I treat my employees well, because I demand a lot from them. I know I can depend on them. I need to know I can depend on you, Barney.” He tapped the paper, drawing Barney’s attention back to the figure there. “Can I depend on you, Barney?”
Barney knew a hustle when he saw one. Whatever this man was about to ask him would cost him his soul. He glanced back at the paper, realizing that he probably would’ve sold it for a lot less. He looked into Dashuan’s hard eyes, and all illusions of new beginnings fell away.
He licked his lips. “I’m listening.”
Dashuan nodded in satisfaction. “Tell me what you know about Paul Gutierrez.”
Barney’s eyes narrowed on his new employer’s face as everything began to click into place. The coincidence of running into the bodyguard at the car wash, the miraculous job opening on Dashuan’s security team. Everything had led to this moment.
When he considered what lengths Dashuan went to get him, Barney realized he was almost flattered.
Once he accepted reality for what it was, he opened his mouth and proceeded to tell Dashuan everything he knew about his former employer and friend.
Chapter 16
Amber had resigned herself to waiting out the snowstorm in her borrowed bedroom. That way she would not have to deal with Paul at all. Of course, it only took her about thirty minutes to see the ludicrousness of trying to hide from a man in his own house.
Still, she could at least give herself one evening of reprieve. She was curled up in the middle of the bed going into her fourth consecutive hour of the Weather Channel forecast when the wonderful smells drifted under the bedroom door and across the room. She fought with every ounce of strength not to go downstairs, but her empty belly won the battle against her will.
She crept down the stairs, trying to make as little noise as possible. She just wanted to see what smelled so good, and then she would return upstairs, or so she tried to convince herself.
As she turned the corner to go into the kitchen, she stopped and caught her breath. The kitchen table was covered in a shiny red tablecloth, and sitting in the middle of the table was a small bouquet of mixed flowers. On each side of the bouquet, glowed a single white candle. Although she did not see the CD player, she could hear soft jazz music playing.
There were two plate settings on opposite sides of the table, and even from a distance Amber could see the intricate design of the china. She approached, and the high-pitched murmuring sounds coming from the other side of the table made her tilt her head to see past the bouquet.
Between the two settings was Joachim in his high chair, which was pushed back from the table. She smiled to see he was all dressed up in a dapper little powder-blue onesie, which his father had been smart enough to cover with a bib.
As soon as he spotted her, his quiet play turned into loud screeches and he stretched his little arms toward her. Amber picked him up, and having gotten what he wanted he settled down once more. Amber continued to circle the table, taking in the different foil-covered dishes.
Everything smelled wonderful, the table setting was beautiful, and little Joachim was adorable…. Her eyes widened as she realized what she was looking at.
A seduction!
Still holding the baby she turned to leave, knowing the only thing that could make this seduction a coup d’état would be adding Paul to the mix. She was almost out of the room, when she heard his soft voice behind her.
“Hungry?”
God, yes! And she was not thinking of food. Amber took a deep breath and turned to see him standing just outside the pantry, holding a bottle of wine in each hand.
“What is all this?”
“Dinner.” He held up both bottles. “Red or white?”
Her eyes ran over his long form, noting his usual jeans and T-shirt had been replaced by a pair of black slacks and a cream-colored silk shirt. The top two buttons of the shirt were open, exposing a small patch of curly black hair. Her mind flashed back to the couch when he pulled his shirt over his head, his muscles rippling. This is such a bad idea.
He walked over and placed both bottles on the table.
“Did you do all this?” She gestured to the table.
Paul arched an eyebrow. “I only do chili, remember? No, I ordered from a restaurant in town.” His dark eyes took in her close proximity to the door. “You won’t stay and have dinner with me?”
“Um, no.” She glanced over her shoulder. “I’m not hungry,” she lied, and turned to leave.
“You were right earlier.” Paul’s softly spoken words stopped her in her tracks. “I have been a real jerk. I’m sorry.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Seems like I’ve been saying that to you a lot. Give me a chance to make it up to you.”
There was such sincerity in his voice, Amber thought she would melt where she was standing. “Apology accepted.” She glanced back at the welcoming table. “But I’m not that hungry.”
He studied her face for a moment, before nodding in understanding. “Amber, it’s just dinner.” He held out his hand.
Amber glanced down at his strong hand, and sighed in resignation before putting Joachim back in his high chair. “What have we got here?”
Paul began opening the containers. Amber looked down at plu
mp juicy steaks and laughed. “Wow, I guess you did want steak for dinner.”
Because of conversation, they were still eating almost an hour later. Paul was telling Amber about some of his influential clients. His roster boasted everyone from foreign dignitaries temporarily on assignment in Los Angeles, to famous actors and actresses.
Amber was duly impressed. “What’s she like in person?” She was asking about her favorite box-office actress.
Paul shrugged. “She’s actually a nice lady.”
Her expression turned playful, as she nudged his arm. “She ever hit on you?”
The blush that ran up his face was a dead giveaway.
“She did, didn’t she?”
He shrugged. “A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”
She stabbed at another broccoli stalk, and tried to ignore the slight tinge of jealousy she was feeling.
“What’s your major?” he asked, wiping his mouth with his napkin, before lifting the glass of red wine to his lips.
Amber looked up, a bit surprised by the question. “What?”
“You said you were in school, so what’s your major?”
She looked away guiltily. “Um, I don’t have one yet.”
He titled his head to look at her. “What year are you in?”
“Sophomore,” she muttered.
“I’m sorry. Did you say sophomore?”
She hesitated, and then deciding it made little difference, she nodded.
“Oh, I thought you were a full-time student. Do you go part-time?”
Amber shifted in her chair. The conversation was becoming uncomfortable. “Um, no. I’m a full-time student.”
Paul frowned. “How long have you been in school?”
She sighed, hoping this would be the last intrusive question. She almost refused to answer, but she had learned enough about Paul to know that would only make him that much more curious. “Three years and four months.”
“And you’ve only earned enough credits to qualify as a sophomore?”
“Yes!” she snapped. “What’s it to you?”
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