by Wick,Christa
Kane shot him a hard glance. “My tires?”
Collin practically smirked as he answered. “The Maserati, right? What are the odds of two flats? Hopefully they just need aired up. We have a compressor in the garage.”
Dani’s gaze darted between the two men, her eyes getting bigger with each bounce. Kane noticed an uptick in her breathing and the way her fair skin turned paler.
Really? She was worried about him having to spend the night?
Kane offered his audience a flat smile then turned his attention to the food being brought out from the kitchen. Worst case scenario, he would have to walk the five miles into town and send a tow truck for the car in the morning. But he’d be damned if Stark was going to make him a hostage of circumstance.
Especially with that startled look in Daniella’s gaze proving how unwelcome his presence was.
He would finish this awkward dinner of families plus one, hand Stark his resignation and then leave.
He’d damn well make sure he was gone from Dani’s life before the moon managed to make it up into the night sky.
Chapter Seventeen
Stepping into the hall and closing the door to Collin’s office, Kane leaned against the wall and shut his eyes. It was eleven p.m., far later than he had planned, but he was escaping with his resignation more or less accepted and with Dani only having to endure a brief and casual contact with him.
Plus, Collin only had the air removed from the Maserati’s tires, which had since been refilled. Now it was time to disappoint Mishka, who insisted on seeing Kane in the morning, by slinking off into the night.
He just had to make it out of the extension Stark had added on Mia’s family home without running into anyone or setting off any alarms.
Heading down a hall that ended in a T-intersection, Kane turned right toward the operations room of the on-site security team so they could let him out.
At a dozen yards from freedom, he heard a familiar refrain that weighed at his feet like leaden boots.
The moon done set and the sun won’t rise…
Kane shook his head. She wasn’t singing, he assured himself. He couldn’t really hear her.
All around me cold black skies…
Walking a few more feet forward, he stopped in front of a door.
I can’t see you.
He pushed at the door, finding it unlocked and the bolt not fully seated. Daniella looked up from where she leaned over a crib rubbing Christine’s back.
Her lips separated, but she stopped singing.
“I was on my way to the ops room,” he explained, his voice at a whisper to keep from further disturbing the baby.
“Three more doors down on our left,” she replied just as softly before returning her gaze to Christine.
She was avoiding him as she had at dinner, not outright shunning him but gently turning her attention elsewhere.
“That’s too sad a song to sing to a baby,” he said, the unsolicited advice slipping out.
He expected Daniella to tell him it was none of his business in the same neutral tone she’d used all evening, but she shook her head.
“If that’s what you think, then you can’t have heard all of it.” A frown wrinkled the lines of her mouth and forehead. “I didn’t realize you’d heard any of it before now.”
He didn’t comment, wouldn’t confess to lurking at the perimeter of her life, crouching in shadows while he watched her light, witnessing the love for her niece glowing on her face and wondering if that same luminous shine could be brought forth by his presence.
“I made it up when I was a child,” she went on. “The Marquardts weren’t affectionate. But sometimes I could feel—something…someone. I had forgotten about it until the first time I had trouble getting Christine to sleep.”
Her frown smoothing, Daniella dropped her head and rubbed at the baby’s back. She started over, the sweet voice wrapping Kane in cold.
The moon done set and the sun won’t rise,
All around me cold black skies,
I can’t see you.
Ghosts against the winter sky,
The years, like clouds, roll on by,
I can’t see you.
But I hear you in the night owl’s call
I feel you when leaves turn and fall
You are with me…
Daniella didn’t see Kane escape from the corner of her eye or hear him tiptoe down the hall. She felt it in her chest, in the sudden weakness of her knees and in the parching of her throat. Looking up to confirm the sensation, she saw the void where Kane had stood in the doorway.
Her attention returned to the crib where Christine had settled back to sleep.
Entering the adjoining room, Daniella grabbed her phone from the dresser and texted one of the night staff she was friendly with, asking the woman to sit with Christine for a while. Waiting for a reply, she exchanged her sandals for a pair of Skechers and pulled a light shawl from her closet.
The phone vibrated with an incoming message.
On my way. Hope at least one of us is getting lucky tonight!
Daniella texted a wink but the expression on her face contained only a trace of optimism.
She wasn’t even sure what qualified as “lucky” when it came to Kane. She had learned so many things about him since the night she had shared his bed. Kane was the connection between Collin and Mishka. Get the two men together and relaxed and the stories flowed. They kept it light, of course. There were little ears nearby and it was clear that Alina and Mia had experienced violence in their past that their husbands didn’t want to dredge up by recounting different horrors.
From those stories, she had learned that Kane could be as funny as he was fearless. She heard them recount moments of great tenderness that reminded her of that perfect window of time at his penthouse after she and Kane had stopped fighting their attraction and before that damn news article had jerked her back to reality.
Then there were the things Reed had hinted at, like the odd blood trail at Stoker’s house. She wasn’t sure if he didn’t know whether Kane had done something to silence Julie or if he simply wouldn’t tell her, but Reed was clearly communicating he believed Kane capable of such an act and that she and the baby were that important to the man.
Heading down the hall to the nearest exit, Daniella wondered how she felt about actions Kane might have taken on her behalf. Ambivalent was the best she could come up with. She lived in a world in which a monster had forced her sister to sell her body under the guise of “love,” a different monster had beat Lynn to death, then one lured Daniella to the trailer park so more monsters could kidnap her and sell the baby to yet another monster.
Daniella didn’t want a monster in her life. But a strong man capable of doing monstrous things to protect those he cared about?
Yeah, she was okay with that.
Stopping in front of the exit, she waited for the iris scan to finish and the door to click. The fingers of one hand bounced nervously against her side as they always did during the interval between scan and approval.
Open the pod bay doors, Hal…
Hearing the lock disengage, she exhaled and stepped outside. Kane had a slight lead on her and much longer legs. He also knew where he was going. But he had to leave through the ops room or else he wouldn’t have been anywhere near her rooms.
And if he had to go through security to leave, then she guessed that meant he had resigned as Mia suspected he was there to do.
Daniella blinked as emotion pinched the bridge of her nose, leaving her with the sting of impending tears. She snorted the sensation away, head shaking left and right to throw off all the doubt building over whether Kane wanted anything to do with her.
He had stopped outside her room and made himself known, she told herself. Even if his trip had been to deal honorably with his friend and boss before running away, he didn’t have to push the nursery door open, didn’t have to say anything to her.
She just needed to find him and figu
re out why he ran and why he had pushed her away those first few weeks after the kidnapping.
Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, Daniella cocked her head and listened for the sound of the sports car starting up. From the exit to the front of the house was a short walk with Kane’s deep stride. If he had headed straight for his vehicle, he was either sitting in it and thinking or she should hear its motor over the buzz of the crickets.
When only insects answered her efforts, Daniella squinted into the darkness for some hint of where Kane had wandered off to. There were stables, but they were locked and she didn’t think the horses would exert the same calming influence over him as they did with her.
Feeling the way her pulse raced, she scolded herself. There was little indication Kane was searching for calm. Heck, his expensive sports car probably made about as much noise as a purring kitten. He could be gone already. She just wanted to believe that he hadn’t left, that he couldn’t leave with things feeling so raw between them.
But she might be the only one feeling raw. For Kane, it could all be smooth edges and polished steel.
Without thinking, she walked in the direction of the gardens. A breeze picked up and she tightened the shawl around her shoulders.
There were things bouncing around inside her head, things she wasn’t going to get a chance to say to Kane.
Thank you…I’m sorry…Forgive me…
Knees starting to buckle, Daniella made it to the nearest stone bench and sat down.
She should have behaved differently at dinner. But she’d caught sight of his stoney expression and felt like she would fall to pieces if she looked at him again.
Bringing her hands up, she covered her face. Her shoulders shook but she wouldn’t let herself cry. She’d had enough night tears in the gardens, tracing the manicured paths as far as the signal stretched on the baby monitor. She wouldn’t go back to the room with red eyes and a swollen face.
The tremble picked up strength, her fingertips vibrating against her forehead.
“Dani…”
The unexpected voice didn’t startle her. She thought it was her mind playing tricks on her. She had imagined him sitting on one of the benches with her enough times that she sometimes forgot for a few blissful seconds that they were fantasies instead of memories.
“Dani,” he repeated, the rustle of his clothes joining his voice.
Her fingers curled, exposing her eyes. Kane stood a few feet in front of her, body sagging in a way she couldn’t reconcile with his usually stiff spine.
“I thought you’d left.”
He straightened then, unanswering, his gaze casting about. Her chest squeezed painfully around her heart. There was never going to be anything more between them. He had been shot and stabbed and sliced too many times to make himself vulnerable to another wound.
But he wasn’t leaving. He was as rooted to the ground as the trees bordering the gardens.
Damn him! Why had he said anything here or outside her door? Why hadn’t he just kept on walking?
Pushing onto her feet, Daniella approached Kane on mutinous legs. Reaching him, she teetered for a moment, her palm bracing against his lower chest. She started to withdraw, then trailed her fingers along his ribcage toward his left arm.
Skimming the surface of the silk dress shirt, she dipped beneath the expensive business jacket until she found the spot where Stoker’s bullet had bit into his flesh.
“What did you name this one?” she asked, gently exploring its outline despite the fabric separating them.
“Christine.”
She nodded. “I’m sure when she finally hears the story, she’ll be honored.”
There had been more than one layer to her question. And though there was no right or wrong answer, his simple reply told her there would be no further meetings with Trent Kane.
Daniella would not ask forgiveness or tell him she was sorry for her reaction to the news story and the wall she had immediately thrown up. There was no point to it. Those words were for negotiations and they were past that.
But she would end things with Kane as she had intended to start them—with gratitude.
“Thank you for saving her.”
Ready to retreat before she broke down in front of him, Daniella withdrew her hand.
Kane caught her by the wrist and pressed her palm against the center of his chest. His heart, caged by bone, muscles and memories, tap danced against her fingertips.
She knew what it was like—all those invisible cuts. She had scars there, too, and the biggest one bore his name.
Is that what he was trying to tell her? That she had indelibly marked him before Stoker’s bullet?
Releasing his hold on her wrist, Kane cupped his hand along the side of her face, his thumb caressing her cheek. Heat rolled off him in thick waves, the warm blasts from his powerful body making Daniella want to curl up against him.
Hades, she mused, wondering if that had been remained his ops name up until the end.
Keeper of ghosts, Kane lived in shadows, out of the light, and yet he seemed most vulnerable in the dark.
That night in the kitchen.
Here in the gardens.
Daniella leaned into Trent, her body turning soft and pliant. She lifted her head and willed him to dip his, to erase the last few inches separating their lips.
She clutched his lean hips, her fingertips digging at muscle. Her toes pointed, lifting her body up but not high enough. He was too tall, too unyielding.
With her heart beating hard and fast, she felt like it would explode across his chest at any second. She would die then and she needed that kiss before she went.
Her hand shot up, wrapped around the collar of his shirt and tugged.
“Woman…you’re—” His throat strangled the next word before it could emerge.
Daniella released a short, surprised giggle. “Woman?”
With a growl, he pulled away, grabbed her by the wrist again and tugged her to the bench she had vacated minutes before. Taking a seat, he pulled her onto his lap, his mouth instantly buried against her neck, his arms curled around her waist so she couldn’t escape.
“You’re killing me,” he rasped, teeth scraping at the crazy sensitive skin of her throat. One rough hand dropped to her thigh and squeezed. “You are always killing me—even that first day on the steps.”
A shocked gurgle escaped her. She could still remember the sensation—before she even saw him—of his touch sliding along her wrist and the flood of chemicals it had released, the effect electric.
“You were a jerk,” she protested lightly. “In the lobby, too.”
“And in my office,” he agreed with a soft bite at her lobe before he ran the edge of his teeth against the curve of her jaw.
Daniella turned into him, her arms folding around his shoulders as her head tilted back to expose more of her neck.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “For my reaction—”
His mouth covered hers and she knew it was not the time to review their past. She surrendered to the kiss, melting against him, letting his tongue sweep ravenously against hers.
Heat built between her thighs. Feeling an equal, more prominent response from him, her pulse began to thunder inside her head as her body tightened in need.
This couldn’t be just about sex, her brain cautioned. She had tried to convince herself of that the first time, that they were just satisfying an intense, but casual attraction.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, breaking the kiss and cupping her face.
Daniella shook her head then chewed at her lip. Saying nothing was wrong would be a lie. She had been heartbroken mere minutes before. As much as she wanted to blissfully ignore for the moment some of what had transpired, there was one thing she needed to get straight with him. If she didn’t, she would have no one to blame if her heart was crushed again.
Pressing a palm against his chest, she pulled her head back far enough to meet his gaze in the pale moonlight.
“I’m worried that you won’t be able to deal with my being in love with you,” she answered, her cheeks immediately burning. It was a shameful, cowardly way to tell him she loved him—not saying it outright.
Trent hadn’t released his hold on her face. His grip tightened and he pressed a sweet, fleeting kiss against her lips before staring deeply into her eyes.
“Dani…baby, you’re only half right.” He paused, swallowed thickly, then rubbed his cheek lightly against hers as he whispered directly into her ear. “I can’t deal with you not being in love with me.”
She pulled back again, capturing his distracting hands and holding them tight.
“What are you saying?” Her voice cracked and wavered, the words breathless shapes of sound.
“I love you, Daniella.”
Her fool head began bobbing. All the oxygen had disappeared from the world. Trent was swimming in and out of focus. And all she could do was jerk her head up and down.
“Shh…” he coaxed, pulling her close and cradling her in his arms until she could breathe again. After stroking her hair for a minute, he kissed her forehead.
“We can…discuss things tomorrow. I’ll come back at whatever time—”
Daniella jumped up, silencing him. She found his hands again, her grip iron as she tugged him onto his feet and away from the bench.
No way in hell was she letting him get in that car and leave right then.
“Where are we going?” he asked with a hint of amusement that made her wish she could see his handsome face. “Shouldn’t you be getting back to Christine?”
“Michelle is watching her,” she answered, stopping for just a second to pull his head close enough to eagerly bite his bottom lip. “And I’m taking you to the only place this side of the back pastures that I’m certain there are no cameras.”
“Certain?” he teased.
“Well,” she laughed, her feet picking up speed. “Certain enough.”
Chapter Eighteen
Masquerading under the nomenclature of “greenhouse,” the building Daniella led Trent to was a cathedral of glass almost half a football field in size. Moonlight penetrated the roof to reveal a perimeter of young fruit and nut bearing trees. Precise rows of vegetables marched down the middle.