Intimate Knowledge

by Amanda Stevens

  “No problem. I’ll have one of the guys follow me over to your place later. If I don’t see a light, I’ll leave the keys under the mat. You have a spare set, right?”

  “Sure, that’ll work.” Penelope handed her the keys. “But be careful, okay? This place doesn’t sound like one I’d be too crazy about, either.”

  “It’s not that bad. We’ve played in a lot worse.” Ariadne gave Penelope a quick hug. “I’ve got just enough time to run home and change, so do me another favor? Tell the folks I’m outta here. Thanks. Bye!”

  She was gone before Penelope had time to catch her breath. When she walked back into the room, Athena glanced up. “What on earth was that all about?”

  “Oh, nothing. Ariadne had a…previous engagement so I loaned her my car.”

  “Where’s her car?” Athena demanded.

  “I think it’s in the shop.”

  “Again?” Her mother rolled her eyes. “Honestly, why that girl won’t buy herself a decent vehicle is beyond me. One of these days, she’s going to break down on the freeway, and some lunatic will come along and…” She shuddered. “I don’t even want to think about it.”

  “Well, obviously, the reason she doesn’t buy herself another car, Athena, is because she doesn’t have the money,” her father said matter-of-factly. “She’d rather play than work.”

  “That’s not true.” Penelope found herself automatically coming to her sister’s defense. “She has a job. She’s a singer.”

  “You call that caterwauling she does singing?” her mother scoffed.

  “Just because she doesn’t sing the kind of songs you approve of doesn’t mean she isn’t talented. I happen to think she’s very good.”

  “Penelope Catherine Moon, you can’t possibly enjoy that absurd noise she and those half-wits she hangs out with call music.”

  “It’s called indie punk, Mom, and it’s really hot right now.”

  Athena shook her head. “When I think of all the money we spent on her education and all the wonderful opportunities she’s squandered, it just breaks my heart.”

  “But she’s happy. Isn’t that what matters?” Penelope rose. “Anyway, I have to be shoving off, too. I have an early day tomorrow.”

  “Oh, yes, the auction.” Her mother got to her feet. “What time do you want us?”

  “The doors open at eight,” Penelope said. “But I can get you in before then if you want an early peek at the goodies.”

  “We may take you up on that. I’ve already got my eye on a few pieces.” Athena paused. “Wait a minute, if Ariadne took your car, how are you getting home?”

  “I’ll call a cab.”

  “No, don’t do that.” Her father set aside his coffee. “I’ll drive you.”

  “Nonsense,” her mother said firmly. “You’re right on Doug’s way. He can drop you off.”

  “I don’t want to impose—”

  “You don’t mind, do you, Douglas?”

  “Of course not. It would be my pleasure.” He rose gallantly.

  “See? It’s all set.” Her mother beamed, obviously quite pleased with herself for the way the evening had turned out.

  Penelope sighed. “Really, Doug, I don’t want to put you out. I can call a cab—”

  “No, no. Athena is right. It’s right on my way. Shall we go?”

  Penelope, resigned to her fate, merely nodded. They said their good-nights, but outside the front door, she hesitated. “I’m sorry about this. Mother can be pretty high-handed at times.”

  Doug grinned. “I’ve noticed. But I really don’t mind, Penelope. Like I said, it’s right on my way.”

  He took her elbow as they walked down the driveway to his vehicle, a luxury SUV with all the bells and whistles. As Penelope climbed inside, she couldn’t help comparing it to Alex’s vintage Aston Martin or even the nondescript sedan Simon had been in last night. The SUV was a little pretentious for her taste, but she had to admit, the leather interior was certainly comfortable. She settled into the seat and fastened her seat belt.

  Penelope glanced at Doug as he climbed behind the wheel, and it occurred to her that, for as long as he’d worked with her father, she really didn’t know him very well, other than the fact that he was devoted to his profession and that he’d once dated Helen.

  Penelope suspected that he still carried a torch for her sister, although until tonight, she wouldn’t have given him much of a chance. Helen and Grayson had always seemed like the perfect couple to her. Young, successful, good-looking. And so much in love. Penelope couldn’t help wondering what had caused so much friction between them, and suddenly she thought back to that day she’d seen Helen with Alex. Was it possible that Helen was having an affair with her husband’s business partner?

  Athena would be horrified, not only because of her daughter’s lapse in judgment and morals, but because of the soap-opera aspect to the whole arrangement.

  “So tell me about this auction at the museum,” Doug said, pulling onto the main thoroughfare. “Any tips on what I should bid on?”

  Penelope turned in surprise. “You’re coming?”

  “Of course. I’m quite the aficionado of pre-Columbian artifacts. I have a rather modest collection you might like to see sometime.”

  Was that a come-on? Penelope wondered nervously. The equivalent of inviting her to see his etchings? “I had no idea,” she murmured. “You’ll have to come by the Morehart one day soon. I’ll give you a tour.”

  “I just might take you up on that.” He flashed her a smile that completely took her aback.

  Penelope had never paid much attention to Doug Fairchild one way or another. He was younger than her parents, but still several years older than she. She’d never consider him a contemporary and had never noticed before what an attractive man he was. When her mother had tried to fix her up before, all she’d been able to think of was Simon. But in light of what she now knew, perhaps she should have kept a more open mind when it came to her mother’s matchmaking attempts.

  A few minutes later, Doug pulled to the curb in front of Penelope’s building and reached for the ignition.

  “No, don’t turn it off,” she said. “I’ll just hop out here and save you the trouble.”

  “I wouldn’t feel right not seeing you to the door,” he said, shutting off the engine. “Too many crazies running around these days.”

  He came around to open Penelope’s door, but she’d already climbed out. At the bottom of the stairs, she paused, determined to call it a night before she faced that awkward moment of having to invite him in for coffee or a drink.

  She stepped on the bottom stair and turned, subtly blocking his path. “Well, thanks again for the ride. I really appreciate it.”

  When she extended her hand, he took it and held it in his. “Would you like to have dinner with me sometime?” he asked unexpectedly.

  Penelope blinked. Other than the comment about showing her his collection earlier, the invitation seemed to come out of nowhere. He’d never shown the slightest interest in her until tonight, even with all of Athena’s encouragement. “I’m…not sure that’d be such a good idea,” Penelope said hesitantly. “You know I’m still engaged.”

  “Yes, of course. But, considering the circumstances…” He trailed off, as if not quite knowing what to say. Clearing his throat, he continued, “You have to get out every once in a while. Have a decent meal now and then.”

  It was hard to tell if he was just being friendly, or if his invitation contained an ulterior motive. A romantic motive.

  Penelope wasn’t sure how to react. If he really was asking her out, then his attitude seemed a bit callous, considering that he still believed Simon to be in a coma.

  But Simon wasn’t in a coma. He’d lied to Penelope right from the start, and sooner or later, she would have to find a way to get on with her life. Get back into the game, so to speak, if she wanted to meet someone else. Maybe Doug Fairchild was a good place to start.

  Penelope drew a breath. “Dinn
er would be nice.”

  “Well, great,” he said, as if he were a little surprised by her acceptance. “I’ll call you. We’ll set something up for next week. In the meantime…”

  Penelope hadn’t realized that he still had her hand until he tugged her toward him, and before she could pull away, he bent and kissed her.

  She resisted at first, and then she decided to just go with the moment. It wasn’t that hard, because Doug was a really good kisser, and that surprised her, too, although she didn’t know why. He was a handsome, successful doctor. He undoubtedly had his choice of female companionship, but Penelope had never thought of him as a player. He was too intense, for one thing. Too devoted to his career.

  Obviously, she’d been wrong. About a lot of things concerning Dr. Doug Fairchild.

  But in spite of his flawless technique, the kiss left Penelope completely unmoved. She found that curious, because Simon’s kisses had been tentative and restrained, even a bit awkward at times. But her knees had turned to jelly the moment his lips touched hers.

  With Doug, all she felt was relief when he drew away.

  “I’ll call you,” he said again, and then squeezing her shoulders, he turned and strode away.

  Her fingertips on her lips, Penelope started up the stairs. Halfway up, she realized someone was standing on her balcony staring down at her.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Simon. He must have seen the kiss.

  A tiny thrill of satisfaction raced up Penelope’s spine as she unlocked her front door and walked inside. She took her time putting away her purse and door key and turning on a lamp. By the time she walked into her bedroom, Simon was already through the French doors.

  “I wish you’d stop doing that,” Penelope grumbled.

  “Doing what?”

  “Breaking into my apartment. And by the way, how do you keep doing that?”

  “A five-year-old could get through that lock.” His gaze was scornful. “You should think about having a dead bolt and alarm system installed.”

  She shrugged. “I never really needed them until now.” He took a step toward her, and Penelope instinctively backed up. “What are you doing here anyway? Shouldn’t you be at the museum?” Her gaze flickered over him in spite of herself.

  He’d changed from the security-guard uniform he’d worn earlier to dark pants and a dark shirt. The better to sneak into her apartment without being seen, she supposed.

  She couldn’t get over how different he seemed. Gone was the shy, geeky accountant who’d stolen her heart, and in his place stood a dangerous federal agent who’d broken it.

  “My shift ended, so I decided to drop by and see how you’re doing,” he said. “But after that little scene I just witnessed, I guess I don’t have to ask. Good to know you wasted no time putting yourself back on the market.”

  “And just what did you expect?” she cried indignantly. “That I’d pine away for you forever?”

  “No, but I thought you might wait a little longer than twenty-four hours.”

  She lifted her chin in defiance. “You forget. I’ve been waiting a good deal longer than twenty-four hours. It’s been over two months since you jilted me, Simon.”

  “I didn’t jilt you. I had every intention of going through with the ceremony.”

  “Oh, thanks a lot. I bet you consider it a lucky break that someone tried to kill you that night.”

  “You know, I’m getting a little tired of you acting like I did all this for the hell of it. I did what I had to do, and I’m sorry you got hurt in the process.”

  She folded her arms. “So you’ve said.”

  He sighed. “Believe it or not, I do care about you, Penny—”

  “Don’t call me that,” she warned.

  “Come on,” he said impatiently. “Are you going to hate me forever? Can’t you even try to see my side of things?”

  “Believe it or not,” she said, mimicking his words, “I’m quickly moving from hate into indifference.”

  Anger flashed in his eyes. “Is that so?” He took a step toward her. “Is that why you were kissing Doug Fairchild? Because you’re already over me?”

  She glared up at him. “What were you doing, Simon? Spying on me?”

  He ignored her question and took another step toward her. “Since when did you and Fairchild become so friendly?”

  Penelope took a step back. “We’re not. But since when is it any of your business?”

  “You’re still wearing my ring,” he pointed out.

  “I can remedy that.” But her fingers were swollen in the evening humidity, and she couldn’t twist the ring off no matter how hard she tried. She gave Simon a frustrated look, as if her puffiness was his fault entirely. “Don’t worry,” she said coldly. “I’ll return it even if I have to have it cut off my finger.”

  His eyes glinted. “I don’t care about the damn ring. What I care about is…”

  “What?” she challenged. “I’d love to know what it is that you really care about. Obviously, it’s not me, or you never could have hurt me the way you did.”

  “You know something, Penelope? You can be pretty damn hurtful yourself,” he said bitterly. “I don’t think you even realize it.”

  “Hurtful?” She stared at him in shock. “When did I ever hurt you?”

  “How about last night?” he said. “And I quote, ‘I’ve had better.’ You think that didn’t hurt?”

  “You all but admitted you were playing a role, both…in bed and out,” she said in astonishment. “How do you think that makes me feel?”

  “I may have been playing a role, but I wasn’t the only one pretending, now was I?”

  She gasped. “What are you talking about?”

  He continued to move toward her until Penelope found herself backed all the way up against the wall. He stood in front of her, one hand planted on the wall above her. Their lips were so close she hardly dared breathe.

  She tried to turn away, but he took her chin and gently pulled her back to him.

  “Tell me the truth. Were you faking it in bed?”

  Her first inclination was to lie, but then she shrugged. “What did you expect, Simon? You were always so restrained. So…I don’t know. In control. It was like you were never quite in the moment. So, yes, I faked it, but not because I wanted to deceive you. Because I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

  His eyes darkened, not with anger, but with something a lot more dangerous.

  “Let me go, Simon,” she said a little desperately.

  “I’m not holding you.” But when she tried to slip away, he caught her arm. “Aren’t you just the least bit curious what it would be like if we were both ‘in the moment’ at the same time?”

  She wanted to push him away, but she couldn’t. Suddenly, her knees gave way, and when his hand slid up her bare arm…

  Good Lord, she thought with a shudder. What was he trying to do to her?

  “I’m not going to sleep with you just so you can prove a point,” she said angrily.

  “I don’t have to sleep with you to prove a point.” His hand cupped the back of her neck. “All it’ll take is a kiss.” His voice lowered. “No more lies, no more secrets, no more faking it. Just one, honest kiss.”

  “What would that prove?” she whispered. She couldn’t think. He was standing too close. And his eyes were suddenly so hypnotic she felt frozen in place.

  “It may not prove anything. Then again, it may prove everything. But what have you got to lose? It’s just a kiss, right?”

  “Simon—”

  He wove his hands in her hair and lifted her face to his. “Will you just be quiet for a moment?”

  He kissed her then and everything inside her seemed to still with anticipation. And then her heart started to pound and her legs went all shaky. She felt as if she’d had the breath knocked out of her, but the sensation wasn’t painful. Far from it, Penelope thought in amazement. How had she ever thought Simon restrained and awkward? He was…devastating.
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  And he knew her too well. She’d spent weeks pouring out her heart and soul at his bedside, and now he used that intimate knowledge to fulfill her deepest desires, to explore her darkest secrets…

  When his tongue slid between her lips, Penelope groaned and wrapped her arms around his neck. She clung to him because her legs had no strength.

  He deepened the kiss, making her burn with excitement, and just when she thought she could stand it no longer, he pulled back.

  He drew a ragged breath and closed his eyes. “Did you feel that? It wasn’t just me, right?”

  She couldn’t say anything for a moment. Her heart was still racing, and she couldn’t gulp in air fast enough. She was still drowning in sensation.

  “No,” she finally managed to whisper. “It wasn’t just you.”

  He opened his eyes and looked down at her. “I want you to know something. That wasn’t an act. I wasn’t playing some kind of role. It was real—”

  She placed her hands on either side of his face and drew him to her. “Will you just be quiet for a moment?”

  She kissed him, and suddenly it was Simon who groaned when their tongues met and tangled. Simon who wrapped his arms around her and held her so close that Penelope could hardly tell where she ended and he began.

  It was as if they were made for each other. Their bodies reacted instinctively. And when Simon reached for the buttons on her blouse, there was no fumbling. No awkward moment when Penelope wondered if she should stop him. It all seemed perfectly natural.

  He slid the blouse down her arms, and then his shirt came next. Mouths still joined, he lifted her off the floor, and she wrapped her legs around him as he carried her a few steps to the dresser. With one swipe, he cleared a spot and settled her on the smooth wood veneer. She put her hands on the surface and arched her back as Simon bent to her breasts.

  He teased her with his tongue until he had her gasping. Tangling her fingers in his hair, she tugged him up for another kiss, and then her hands moved to his belt.

  “Penelope?” Her murmured name sounded like a question as he put his hands over hers as if to stop her.

  “No, let me,” she whispered, and that was the only answer he needed. Quickly he undid his belt and zipper, and then he kissed her so hard that Penelope had to brace herself against the mirror. She’d never been so aroused in her life. By the time Simon shoved aside her underwear, she was almost ready to explode.