02 Turn to Me - Kathleen Turner

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02 Turn to Me - Kathleen Turner Page 27

by Tiffany Snow


  I ran into something and stopped, glancing around to see I'd come up against one of the tables.

  “I paid that money to her already,” he continued. “You coming here tonight was completely unnecessary.”

  My eyes jerked to his in dismay. “But...” I stuttered. “But James said-”

  “James?!”

  Blane's shocked outburst had me clamping my mouth shut, aghast at what I'd just revealed.

  “James was the one who-” Blane stopped, seemingly unable to complete the sentence. Without another word, Blane turned on his heel, striding for the door.

  “No! Blane! Wait!” I scrambled after him, cursing my stilettos as they slowed me down. In the dark, I couldn't see where I was going. My heel caught on the carpet and with a cry, I fell, my ankle twisting sharply beneath me.

  In seconds, Blane was crouching at my side. “Are you all right?” he asked.

  I grimaced, nodding. “I just twisted my ankle.”

  Without another word, he lifted me in his arms and set me onto a nearby table. Dropping down, he lightly pressed my ankle, feeling the joint. I hissed at the pain. Damn it. This was all his fault, I thought crankily.

  “What do you expect when you wear shoes like these?” he asked.

  “Well, I hadn't planned on running in them,” I retorted.

  He didn't say anything to that, merely continued massaging my ankle, carefully bending my foot. It felt a little better and I turned the joint in a circle. No breaks, thank God.

  Incongruously, I suddenly wanted to cry. The sight of him bending down, taking care of me, reminded me too much of what used to be. The anger over his betrayal was still there, but now I felt an overwhelming sadness, too. I was glad I'd never told him I loved him. That would have been humiliating.

  That thought steeled my resolve even as I fought the urge to reach out and run my fingers through his hair. He was wearing dark jeans and a deep green sweater, which I knew would make his eyes appear like emeralds. The feel of his hands on my skin was bittersweet.

  Blane swam in my vision and I cleared my throat, blinking rapidly. Best not to dwell on it.

  “I'll, um, find a way to pay you back,” I said roughly. When he looked up at me, my breath caught. I'd been right about his eyes and their brilliant depths held me mesmerized.

  “You say that as if I care about the damn money,” he said flatly.

  The fight was drained out of me, I was sick of arguing, so I just shrugged in response.

  He stood, standing close to me, his chest at eye-level. I sighed inwardly, knowing that a week ago, I could've leaned forward and rested on his broad chest, been comforted by his strength.

  Blane's fingers under my chin forced my head up until I was looking at him. His thumb brushed the corner of my mouth.

  “James did this, didn’t he?” he growled, his jaw in tight bands. “What else did he do that I can't see?”

  Before I could stop him, he'd pushed my coat down and off my arms, examining my exposed skin as if searching for more marks and bruises.

  “He didn't do anything that I didn't pay him back for,” I said, folding my arms across my chest. I felt very exposed in this outfit, more vulnerable because it was Blane looking at me in it.

  Blane frowned. “He didn't...force you to...”

  He trailed off, but I got the gist. “No. I recorded him saying some rather incriminating things, things that would destroy his career if they were made public. So let's just say he came around to my point of view.” I lifted my chin defiantly.

  Blane's eyes glimmered, his lips twisting in a tiny smirk. I couldn't help the curl of pleasure his approval gave me in the pit of my stomach.

  His eyes dropped to my arms covering my chest, then lower to where the hem of my skirt had climbed to the tops of my thighs. My skin burned as if he'd touched it and his hands, resting lightly on the bare skin of my knees, felt like a brand. The air seemed to thicken in my lungs as I remembered the last time I'd sat on a table, only it had been a desk and it had been in Blane's office....

  I abruptly pushed myself off the table, gingerly testing my weight on my ankle. It hurt, but it would hold. Blane's arm slid around my waist and I flinched at the touch of his hand on my naked back. I tried to step away.

  “Let go of me,” I told him. “I'm fine.”

  He didn't listen, shocker that, and instead pulled me closer to him, wrapping his arms around me and tucking my head against his chest. I could hear his heart beat through the fabric of his clothes. My fists clenched at my sides as I fought the overwhelming need to hug him back.

  “God, Kat,” he began, his voice tight, “when I saw your car blow up last night, I was sure you were dead. And tonight, when I thought you were here with some bastard...I wanted to kill him before I even knew who it was.”

  I didn't know how to respond. “I'm sorry,” I mumbled, though it was a ludicrous thing to say.

  “You're sorry?” He gave a short bark of humorless laughter. “That's the last thing you should be. All of this - you nearly getting killed too many times, you having to put up with Kade, James a constant threat to you - this is all my fault. Last night, I could have lost you forever.”

  I looked up at him. His eyes traveled over my face before softly running the back of his knuckles down my cheek. I could feel every inch of my body pressed against his and a little voice in the back of my mind was urging me to forget about last night, forget about Kandi. Who cared about that? If Blane still wanted me, still felt something for me, I'd be a fool not to take what he offered for as long as he was offering it.

  Just like all the other women he had dated.

  That thought brought me up short and I stepped back out of his arms.

  “But you did, Blane,” I said simply.

  His face was a blank mask as I gathered my coat and purse and walked away, each step harder to take than the one before. I could feel Blane's eyes burning a hole in my back and I didn't breathe properly until I reached the safety of the hallway.

  I belted my coat tightly around my waist and left the hotel, dropping James's keys down a drainage pipe off the street. Bitchy and vindictive? Absolutely. But recovering from lost keys and a broken phone was a pain in the ass, and I felt the least James deserved for how he'd treated me, not to mention that I would have liked to watch him retrieve his wallet from the toilet.

  I dropped Alisha's keys off at her apartment, which was how I found out how Blane had known where I was. He had stopped by my place and Alisha, being worried about me, had told him where I had gone. Well, that solved that little mystery. I couldn't be mad at her though, she'd only tried to help me, and if things had worked out differently and I hadn't been able to get my hands on that stun gun, I would have been glad to see Blane show up.

  It was late and I was exhausted when I let myself into my apartment and shucked my coat. I reached for a lamp, but paused. Perhaps it was a testament to how often I had uninvited visitors that seeing Kade sitting on my sofa in the ambient glow of my Christmas tree lights didn't surprise me all that much.

  “What do you want, Kade?” I wasn't in the mood to see him.

  “I saw you took a tour of my office. Then left. Something I remember quite clearly telling you not to do.”

  His tone was biting, making a shiver of unease creep down my spine. I squared my shoulders.

  “Seeing as how you have a rather detailed file on me,” I retorted, “I’m surprised you’d expect any different.”

  “Yes, the file currently decorating my floor. The file you're all pissed off about. The one I refuse to apologize for making.”

  He'd gotten to his feet and taken three steps, stopping only when he was directly in front of me. I swallowed, but I wasn't going to back down. That was my new mantra – no one was going to push me around anymore.

  “And where the fuck have you been?” he continued. His eyes dropped, skimming down to my shoes and back up. “Dressed like that, I can only guess you thought you'd keep your appointment for Simon
e.”

  “I took care of myself,” I said defensively.

  “I'll bet you did.”

  The derision in his tone set my teeth on edge.

  “I didn't screw him, Kade,” I snapped. “I blackmailed him.”

  Kade frowned. “Blackmail? Who?”

  “James.”

  “James Gage?”

  At my nod, Kade's brows lifted in surprise. “Junior? James Gage – the D.A.? You blackmailed the District Attorney?”

  I nodded again.

  His eyes narrowed as they flicked down to my chest. I fought the urge to cross my arms.

  “And how far did it get before you pulled off your Big Plan?” The words were soaked in his usual sarcasm, igniting my temper.

  “That's none of your business,” I spat.

  “Dressed like that, I'd be surprised if he let you go before screwing you, no matter what you threatened.”

  I was furious. How dare he criticize me? “Oh, you like the outfit?” I preened, smiling tightly as I smoothed my hands down provocatively over my hips. “You should, after all, you bought the shoes.”

  It seemed I'd once again taken Kade by surprise, but he recovered quickly, his lips twisting in a smirk.

  “Then I should take a closer look.”

  Before I could react, he'd crouched down and slid a hand behind my knee, pulling my stiletto-clad foot off the floor to rest on his thigh. Off-balance, I clutched his shoulder so I wouldn't topple over.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I sputtered, my nerves jangling all kind of alarms at his touch.

  “Taking a closer look at the merchandise,” he said calmly.

  I gritted my teeth.

  “These are definitely Come Fuck Me shoes,” he said, leisurely inspected my foot. “They must have set you back some.”

  “Well, you were quite generous last time you were here,” I sneered, trying not to think about the feel of his hand sliding along the back of my knee or how he was so near, I could feel his breath on the inside of my thigh.

  “It was stupid of you to send all that money to the bill collectors,” he said flatly, reminding me of how he'd come by that information.

  “Why the file, Kade?” I asked. “Why would you put me under the microscope like that? Invade my privacy?”

  “You were dating my brother,” he said, his use of past tense making me wince. “I told you once before that I won't take chances with Blane. I needed to find out who you were.”

  Kade looked up at me, the blue of his eyes like a shock to my system. A lock of his hair had fallen over his brow. Again I was reminded of a fallen angel, beautiful and dark. His self-appointed role as Blane's protector lessened my anger, though I still felt violated.

  “It seemed to be very...thorough,” I protested, wishing he'd stop touching me.

  “Yeah, well, that's what it became.”

  I looked at him, confused. What was he talking about? He'd stopped examining my shoe and now just studied me, slowly running his hand up behind my leg until his fingers curled around the back of my thigh.

  I had heard of someone undressing you with their eyes, but had never experienced it – until now.

  Kade's gaze felt like almost a physical touch as it fell on my hips, my stomach, my breasts. With James, I'd felt dirty when he had looked at me. With Kade looking at me as though he could see through to my skin, my body responded completely differently. My nipples tightened, straining at the thin fabric covering them. Desire pooled between my legs and my breath came faster. It was wrong and I knew I shouldn't think of him in that way, but he was heartbreakingly lovely and was gazing at me as though I was one of his moon pies about to be devoured. After being betrayed by Blane, being wanted by Kade was an unexpected, sinful pleasure.

  He slowly stood, his hands trailing up my thighs, catching the hem of my skirt. I stiffened when his fingers brushed my bare skin.

  “How about I stay in your bed tonight instead of the couch?” he whispered in my ear.

  “Kade, stop,” I protested. “You shouldn't...touch me like that.” I tried to step away, but didn't get far. His hands gripped my flesh more tightly, pulling me against his body. I gasped, his aggression making my heart race even as I castigated myself. The last thing I should do was encourage him.

  “Why not? We're two consenting adults.” He leaned forward, his lips by my ear. “I know you want me, princess.”

  My eyes slid closed in dismay even as a tremor went through me at the lightest touch of his mouth. “Just because you have a file on me, doesn't mean you know me or what I want,” I managed, grasping his wrists and tugging them from underneath my skirt. He allowed me to move his hands, but they only retreated to my waist.

  “I know you better than you think,” he said, his eyes boring into mine. “I know that you wanted to be a lawyer, which is why you got a job at the firm. I know that piece of crap car you had was one of your sole possessions. I know that you avoid sad movies because you hate to cry.”

  “What are you doing, Kade? Why are you telling me this?” His intensity was scaring me, as was how much he really did know about me.

  “I also know that the last thing you want to do is trust someone, because everyone you've ever loved has left you. And I know this because we're the same, you and me. Trust, love – those things are more dangerous than knives or bullets.”

  I was shaking now, feeling the weight of his words sink in. It was true, all of it. I'd been terrified of trusting Blane, afraid of how I might grow to care about him and be hurt when he didn't feel the same. Of course, I'd been right.

  “Trust is hard-earned, princess, and I didn't mean to break the little trust you had in me.”

  I was startled. That almost sounded like an apology.

  “The file on you started as a background check. Then I met you.” His eyes flicked down to my mouth and his hands moved to frame my face. “Then I kissed you, touched you, worked side by side with you.”

  I waited, barely breathing, to see if he would say more. His gaze seemed fevered, so intently was he staring into my eyes.

  “And suddenly, I care about more than just Blane and my own hide,” he confessed. “And I didn't want to. I've fought it and I tried to hate you, tried to despise you, but I can't.”

  My emotions threatened to overwhelm me. It was too much. All this time, I'd thought Kade had hated me, barely tolerated me. Now he was telling me that I'd been very, very wrong. I was floored, stunned. I drank in the honesty in his eyes, my chest aching.

  I wanted to tell him. Wanted to say that yes, I cared about him, too. That despite how he'd treated me, like a wounded animal lashing out at anyone who tried to care for it, I had grown to want him in my life, to want him with an intensity that frightened me.

  Kade wanted me. The idea rocked me. He was a man who had cared for no one and nothing but himself and Blane for as long as he could remember.

  The sudden thought of Blane caused the words to die on my tongue, unspoken. What would he do if he found out? Would they be estranged from each other because of me? After what had happened this morning, I couldn't be sure that wasn't exactly what would happen. I couldn't live with myself if that were true.

  Making matters even worse were the feelings I had which were still very much caught up in Blane. Were Blane and I over? Absolutely. Was I ready to move on? After the scene in the hotel and my tumultuous emotions, that answer seemed to be a pretty definitive “no.”

  “Kade,” I whispered, “I can't. Blane-” I didn't know what else to say, my mind in a whirl of thoughts and feelings. I searched Kade's gaze, hoping he would know what I meant, but I could tell the moment the name left my lips that Kade assumed I was rejecting him, choosing Blane instead.

  It was as if a door slammed shut, his eyes regaining their cold, calculating distance even as his face grew still and shuttered. I could have corrected his assumption, but what did it matter in the end? He wouldn't understand that my reason for keeping my distance was to ensure he and Blane staye
d close. It was only this morning that he'd told me to “leave it alone” when it came to him and Blane.

  “Of course. I should've known you'd still want Blane,” he said, his lips twisting in a humorless smirk. “Even if he is screwing someone else.”

  The icy anger in his eyes belied the lack of emotion in his voice. I didn't know what to say, how to make it better. I'd hurt him, though he'd probably cut off his own arm before admitting it, and he wanted to hurt me back. I didn't want to lose him, couldn't bear to lose someone else I cared about.

  “I don't want Blane,” I said, ignoring the little voice in the back of my head that laughed in outright derision at that whopper. “But I can't have you. Don't you see that?”

  His eyes searched mine before he finally replied, “You're the only one who sees that.” He stepped away from me and toward the door.

  I panicked. I couldn't just watch him walk out and leave me. Isn't that what he said he always did? Leave before anyone got too attached?

  “Wait!” I called out.

  He paused, his hand on the doorknob.

  “You said I wasn't alone,” I reminded him. “That I had you. Were you lying to me?” I was ruthlessly using his own words against him. I needed him and I wasn't about to let him go, no matter the many reasons why I should.

  He turned, his face a mix of shadows cast by the light from the tree.

  “No,” he said, the word seeming to cost him something to utter. “I wasn't lying. I won’t leave you alone. It's just better for me to not be in here tonight. I'll be close.”

  The knot inside my stomach eased and my eyes shut with relief. When I opened them, he was still watching me.

  “Will I see you tomorrow?”

  “We have a case to solve,” he reminded me, “and it's not going away. Just put some fucking clothes on before I see you again,” he said, twisting the doorknob open.

  I stiffened. “You know I don't normally dress like this!” My protest was directed to his back as he walked out the door, closing it behind him. I turned away with a frustrated sigh, shoving my fingers through my hair, only to jerk back around when the door reopened.

  “And the next time I see you wearing those shoes,” Kade said, “they'll be the only thing you're wearing.”

 

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