“Come on, Wentworth.” She slid off the barstool and paced the room like a caged animal. “Do you expect this guy to get into my squad unit and tag along while I’m on duty? That’s so not going to happen.”
She paused her restless movements and faced him. “Well?”
“My name is Trey,” he said.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I know.”
“You called me Wentworth.”
“Why are we arguing about your name?” She placed her hands on her hips and glared at him.
“We’re not.” He stepped from around the bar and moved toward her.
“Yeah?” She took a step backward. “You could have fooled me.”
“We’re arguing about the fact that I kissed you, and we both liked it.”
CHAPTER TEN
KELLY SUCKED IN a deep breath and looked away. Had her response to his kiss been that obvious?
The second Trey’s lips had touched hers, she’d lit up like a torch. A flash fire of desire had swept through her, a novel experience for her. A man’s touch had never done that to her before.
She’d been mortified by her reaction, knowing the kiss had only been to placate the little dude. No big deal. So why couldn’t her usually reliable brain formulate any words?
Because Trey was too close—close enough to lean down and kiss her again. And she wanted him to.
She raised her gaze and found his dark eyes burning into hers. She blinked. He was angry. But why? Because she’d called him by his last name? Because she didn’t want his damn bodyguard?
She stepped away and managed to squeak out, “It was just one quick kiss.”
He moved back toward the bar, and she relaxed. With distance between them, she could breathe more easily, keep her guard up.
“Do you enjoy insulting me?” he asked.
“What?” So much for keeping up her guard. “I didn’t mean to insult you.”
He retrieved her wineglass and presented it to her. Her pulse skittered into high gear again when their fingers brushed.
“Then please at least call me Trey.”
“Sure. Trey it is.” She returned to her stool at the bar and took a gulp of wine. Why was she so nervous? Men never made her nervous. That’s why she’d worked so hard to become a black belt, so she’d never feel powerless again.
He sat in a stool next to hers and picked up his wine, his gaze sweeping her body intently.
“What?” she demanded, hating that she smoothed her hair like some goofy teenager. But what was he staring at? She fought an impulse to run to her room and hide like she had as a little girl.
What did she want to hide from? Wentworth? She in no way felt physically threatened by him.
What she wanted to run away from was the way she felt when he touched her. She stared at the smooth wooden bar and tried to sort out her thoughts. Okay. She’d obviously lost her mind and for some absurd reason was attracted to Trey Wentworth. How had that happened? He definitely was not her type. Rich playboy? Please. She needed to get over herself pronto.
And she needed to avoid any more good-night kisses.
“Thank you,” he said.
She raised her gaze to his. Were they back to the kiss? “For what?”
He laughed. “Don’t sound so suspicious. I don’t think I’ve properly expressed how grateful I am for you helping my son.”
Kelly released a sigh. This subject was far easier to deal with.
“And please don’t tell me you were just doing your job,” Trey said. “We both know it’s not in your job description to move into my home.”
She nodded. Now, this was more like it. Actual appreciation from the billionaire. “You’re welcome.”
When he took a sip of wine, she did the same. Wearing a mysterious smile, Trey reached behind the bar and retrieved a gold foil wrapped box, the perfect size to hold a bracelet, and presented it to her.
She glared at the lovely package without touching it. “What’s this?”
“It won’t bite you.”
“Funny. What is it?”
“Something to demonstrate my gratitude in a more concrete fashion.”
She shook her head. “That’s not necessary. I’ve told you that.”
He removed the wine from her hand, placed the golden box in her palm and closed her fingers around it. The gift felt warm against her skin.
“Please at least open it,” he said softly.
She bit her bottom lip. Whatever was inside this box—and it had to be expensive jewelry—she couldn’t accept. Not only because of department rules, but her own ethics wouldn’t allow it. She tried to tell herself she didn’t want to see what was inside, but frankly, yeah, she did. What was the harm in peeking?
Before she could do anything, Trey took the package from her hand and unwrapped it, revealing a black leather case. He removed a gold watch with glittering diamonds circling the face. The thin, supple band gleamed in his hands as he showed it to her, and she sucked in a breath at the sight. She’d never seen such an exquisite piece of jewelry.
She remained silent while he fastened the stunning timepiece around her left wrist, his fingers warm and steady. She stared at the jewels, transfixed. But where would she ever wear this, even if she could keep it? She raised her arm to read the name of the watchmaker, something Swiss and famous, and knew this gift had cost more than her car.
“This token is nothing compared to the life of my son,” Trey said. “I hope you’ll accept it.”
“It’s beautiful,” she breathed.
“So you like it?”
“Of course.” She shook her head. “But I can’t keep this, Trey.”
“Why not?”
Kelly removed the watch and placed it back in the box. She closed the lid with a snap, removing temptation from her greedy eyes.
“Even if I thought it was right, that I deserved a reward for doing my job, cops can’t accept gifts. Even the clothing you gave me was a stretch.”
“No one has to know,” he said, placing his hand on the box, moving it toward her.
“I would know,” she told him, raising her gaze from the box to meet his. “And you would know.”
He stared at her for a long moment, then nodded. “Okay. I understand.”
“Thank you for the thought, though.”
“So I didn’t insult you again?” he asked.
“No. This time I believe you meant well.”
“I want to find a way to thank you. I know how much staying here has disrupted your life.”
“It has, yes.” No point in lying. “I’m used to a routine, but you made it hard to say no. And Jason is such a sweet little dude.”
“But a spoiled one?”
She shrugged, sorry she’d made that observation, glad they’d moved on from the watch. “Hey, what do I know about raising a kid?”
Trey shifted his gaze to his wineglass. “Probably as much as I do.”
“I’ve learned that kids need boundaries,” she said. “Maybe he thinks he can just pick a new mother out of thin air.”
Trey met her gaze again. “You believe he’s making this up? Seriously?”
Kelly sighed. No, the kid didn’t appear to be faking, and she was a good judge of liars. “I believe Jason is seriously confused.”
Trey nodded. “When he got out of the hospital after the wreck, I admit I let him do or have whatever he wanted.”
And that would be one hell of a lot of everything, considering how deep the Wentworth pockets were. “I’m surprised he doesn’t have his own pony.” Kelly shook her head.
Trey added wine to their glasses. “He has two in upstate New York.”
Yeah, so little Jason was a little prince.
“You need to learn th
e word ‘no.’”
“He’d lost his mother,” Trey said. “He missed her, was hurt by the belief that she’d abandoned him, that his father was somehow responsible. I would have done anything in my power to make him feel better.”
“There’s nothing you can do to make up for that loss,” Kelly said softly. “That I can tell you from personal experience.”
Trey met her gaze. “How old were you when you lost your mother?”
“Thirteen.” Her voice cracked on the number, and she swallowed. “Thirteen going on thirty.”
“What happened to you? You said you never knew your father.”
She shrugged. How had she allowed the subject to veer from Jason to her own troubled childhood? “Foster homes.”
Trey grimaced. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, but I was luckier than most. I got out okay.”
“Why lucky?”
“You don’t want to hear this.”
“Yes, I do.”
“A police officer—” She hesitated and took a sip of wine. Why was she telling Wentworth this messy story? She’d never told anyone. “He took me under his wing and looked out for me in the system. He was a good guy, the reason I became a cop.”
“What happened to him?”
“He retired last year, moved to Daytona Beach.”
“It’s nice to have a mentor.”
“I guess your father was your mentor,” she said, pleased she’d found a way to switch the subject back to Wentworth.
Trey laughed harshly. “Oh, yeah. My old man has guided me through life like a kindly and wise sage.”
Kelly stared at Trey. Interesting that he had issues, serious issues apparently, with dear old Dad. No one’s life was perfect. So maybe Trey did understand that stacks of cash didn’t solve every problem. And maybe his relationship with his father was another reason he treated Jason like royalty. He wanted to do a better job at parenting, make sure his son knew he was loved. Maybe she should give the guy a break.
Or maybe she’d had too much wine.
At least Wentworth knew his father.
She set her glass on the bar. She needed to get away from this man. She was actually starting to feel sorry for a billionaire.
“Listen, Trey, about that bodyguard...”
“You want me to call him off.”
She nodded.
“Then it’s done,” Trey said.
“Thanks.” She came to her feet. “I need to get some sleep. It’s been a crazy couple of days.”
“I understand.”
She hesitated. “If you really want to thank me, I do have a suggestion.”
“Just name it.”
“Ask Greta to prepare food that’s a little less, you know, fattening.”
Trey laughed softly. “You got it.”
“Thanks. Would you mind if I swam a few laps before I turn in?”
“Please, Kelly. You don’t have to ask. Everything in my home is at your disposal,” he said, giving her such a slow sexy smile that her heart began to gallop again. “Everything.”
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING Trey moved into his office with his second cup of coffee determined to tackle the mail he’d ignored since the kidnapping. The coffee was gone but he’d made little progress when the phone rang. Caller ID revealed Brian Howell, his attorney.
“Good morning, Trey. How is Jason?”
Trey sat back and rubbed his eyes. “The same. He’s in session with Dr. Carico right now.”
“Does he still think Officer Jenkins is his mother?”
“He says he does.”
“What do you mean by that? Do you think he’s faking?”
“I honestly don’t know, but you have to admit the whole idea is nuts.”
“What does Carico say?”
“Donna’s opinion is Jason truly believes Kelly is his mother.”
“Surely Jason couldn’t fool a professional,” Brian said.
“You’d think not.”
“And why would he pretend?”
“Kelly would say it’s because he’s spoiled and used to getting his own way.”
“Is she there now?”
“She’s on duty. She left before nine.”
“I see. Well, you’ll be glad to know the background check on Officer Jenkins came in this morning. It’s attached to an email I just sent you. That’s one reason for my call.”
“Hold on.” Trey swiveled to his computer, found Brian’s message and sent its attachment to his printer.
“That was quick,” Trey said. “Thanks. Does the report reveal any problems?”
“I’ll let you decide that for yourself.”
“What’s the other reason for the call?”
“Possible good news. Have you heard from Agent Ballard today?”
“No. What’s going on?”
“The FBI brought in Darlene’s father for questioning.”
“What? Is he a suspect in Jason’s kidnapping?”
“Definitely.”
“How did that happen?”
“Ballard asked me for a list of people who might have a grudge against you or your family. When I told him about the lawsuit, he jumped on it.”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t seem likely to me. The man doesn’t even live in Miami, does he?”
“Well, that’s the thing. They located him in a fleabag motel near the Miami airport.”
“Oh, my God.” Trey stared out the window. Was it possible that any man could kidnap his own grandson and demand ransom money? Even if the grandfather had never met his daughter or her son, the idea sounded too sick.
“What was Darlene’s father’s name again?”
“Jeff Lawson.”
“Does Lawson resemble Kelly’s sketch?”
“Vaguely. But if you try hard enough, a sketch can look like anyone. I suspect they’ll bring her in for a lineup soon.”
“I hope it’s him,” Trey said. “If it is, then this nightmare will be over. At least for her.”
“Ballard told me about the bomb in Officer Jenkins’s vehicle. Lawson spent ten years in the Atlanta federal penitentiary, an ideal place to get an advanced education on pyrotechnics.”
“She could have been killed.”
“But she wasn’t. Read the report. You’ll learn Kelly Jenkins is nothing if not a survivor.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
KELLY ENTERED A SMALL, dark room while Agent Ballard held the door. Trying to suppress her resentment, she stared through the one-way glass, but no one had entered the space on the other side yet.
She’d been yanked off patrol before lunch and instructed via radio by Sergeant McFadden to drive her unit immediately to the FBI headquarters in Broward County, an hour away. The feds had a suspect in Jason’s abduction in custody. They needed her to come in and make the ID.
“This won’t take long,” Ballard said.
She took a deep breath and bit back the words, “I hope not.” She was missing another tour of duty, and she’d had no lunch. An empty belly always made her cranky.
Yeah, of course she was thrilled at least one of the bad guys had been caught. But why did the kidnapping case have to constantly interfere with her job? She could tell Sarge was angry when he gave her the order, although he didn’t go into what was bugging him. He did, however, remind her they still needed to have a conversation, to check with him before she clocked out tonight.
Awesome. Just what she needed today.
Her morning had started off with Jason clinging to her legs and begging her not to leave. Trey had helped calm him down, but the little dude’s sad, tear-streaked face had touched something deep inside her, his misery reaching into a place she thought had shriveled up
a long time ago. She’d felt like a low-life dirtbag for making a little kid cry.
Was it normal for kids to get that upset when their mothers went to work? How did real moms manage that kind of drama every day?
And ever since that good-night kiss, she didn’t know how to act around Wentworth. Trey, she reminded herself. Think of him as Trey. Why was using his first name so hard for her? Because she understood the need to keep distance between them.
Being around Trey Wentworth was bad for her mental health.
Ballard pressed a hand to an ear piece, and Kelly heard garbled words.
He nodded at her. “They’re on their way.”
When the door opened, a tingle of excitement shot through her. She really did hope the Bureau had apprehended Adam. She didn’t like looking over her shoulder every second, wondering if she was in someone’s sights.
“Just take your time, Officer Jenkins,” Ballard said.
Remaining silent, she pressed her lips together. Damn right she’d take her time. She wasn’t some unreliable witness off the street. Why couldn’t the FBI remember she was a trained law enforcement officer?
Five men, all graying, all approximately the same height, weight and age entered the lineup room. She perceived immediately that neither Caleb nor Adam was among this group, that all these men were at least twenty years older than Jason’s abductors. She carefully scrutinized the face of each subject anyway just to be certain.
Ballard accessed an intercom and told the men, “Have them turn sideways, please.”
Kelly repeated her examination and finally sighed. “Neither of the kidnappers I spoke to is in this group,” she told Ballard.
His face tightened. “You’re sure.”
“Yes,” Kelly said. “They were much younger than this. You don’t have the right guy.”
Ballard uttered a mild curse, but activated the intercom again. “Release everyone but Lawson,” he said.
“Sorry,” Kelly said.
“Yeah,” Ballard said, staring at the floor. “Me, too.”
“No other suspects?” she asked.
Ballard shrugged, and Kelly understood he didn’t want to discuss the case with her. But why shouldn’t he? Who better than her? She was an integral part of his case and she’d thought a lot about the circumstances of the kidnapping.
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