"I'll be right out." Harry checked the flash drive one last time before he snapped off the computer. He'd pulled enough information to get started, but knew that a meticulous analysis would require a second visit.
Frustration was evident in Kenny's raised voice when Harry rounded the desk a minute later. He remembered to scoop up her keys and grab her jacket before he snapped off the light. The man in the reception area was loud, his tone clearly hostile.
". . . I don't like you messin' with stuff in here when I'm not around."
"Unfortunately, the rest of the world operates on a full-time schedule."
"Look, smartass . . . you ain't doing anything without my knowin' it. You hear? That's my money you're screwin' with."
Harry's blood pressure spiked over her stepbrother's antagonistic tone. Rounding the corner, he discovered the burly man's grubby hand on Kendall's wrist. Annoyance flashed over to fury when her cry of pain caught him straight in the gut.
"Get your hands off her." Harry dropped his briefcase with controlled violence, anger throbbing through him.
Releasing her, Lance took a menacing step toward him. Kendall fell back against the desk before catching her balance.
"Who's the gimp?"
The squat, little bully was smart enough to shout the belligerent question at Kendall, unwilling to shift his gaze from him. Wise move, asshole.
"Touch her again and I'll break your hand."
Lance chuckled, giving him the once-over. "I'd like to see you try."
Hot, volcanic fury surged through him as he hobbled closer to her stepbrother. The relief that flashed in Kendall's eyes did nothing to assuage him. The glint of tears only served to inflame him. How long had she dealt with Lance's ugly temper? And why hadn't she said anything?
"Why don't we find out?" Harry taunted, knowing full well he shouldn't egg the bastard on, but the urge to beat Lance senseless proved too great to resist.
Hurtling in front of him to block his next step, Kendall's warm body thrust back against his as she tried to halt his progress.
"Lance. . . this is Harrison Traynor– as in Specialty Construction? The mall we're building?" Her voice held barely controlled anger. "The mall we need to finish digging if we're gonna get paid?"
Lance struggled to contort his mouth into a smile of civility. Harry watched him fail miserably in the process. "I can't say it's nice to meet you."
"You'd get aggravated too, dealin' with her." Lance's tone shifted, becoming oily and ingratiating. "If you'd like to sit down and discuss the progress, I'd be happy to review the schedule with you."
Kendall's snort of disbelief nearly made him smile. Her prickly armor back in place, she'd obviously recovered. Lance was smart enough not to extend his hand in greeting. Given the opportunity, Harry would rather break it.
"I think Miss Adams has filled me in on all I need to know."
"Did you tell him we intend to sell? As soon as we finish your dig, that is," Lance added hastily.
"Specialty is our client, Lance. He cares about the project– that's all."
"Specialty's a big player. I bet he'd know of interested buyers, wouldn't ya, Traynor?"
"Once you complete this project, I'd be happy to assist you– if that's what Miss Adams wants."
"She don't know what she wants. But she will– real soon." Lance's chuckle grated over his nerves. Suddenly, Harry couldn't wait to get outside . . . to breathe fresh air and dispel the tension that had arrived with her step-brother.
"Kendall, are you ready?" Her grateful expression only served to infuriate him when she nodded and moved past her stepbrother. The damned deck was stacked against her. Was anyone on her side?
***
"Did he hurt you?"
"Dammit, Traynor." Kendall skidded to a stop in the parking lot. "What were you thinking– picking a fight with him? You can barely stand up."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence." Harry chuckled at her outrage. "Should I have let him break your arm while I stood there? That's quite a brother. You should check your coffee for rat poison."
"My food taster quit last week." Absently massaging her bruised arm, Kendall absorbed a shiver of apprehension. What if Traynor hadn't been there? Lance was out of control. Jimmy had prevented him from hitting her at the site. Like it or not, she'd have to start taking precautions. She hated feeling vulnerable, but if Lance chose to, he could make her life miserable. Just the thought of him near her home. Her pets. . .
"How long has he harassed you?"
Her cheeks heating with embarrassment, she averted her eyes when he climbed into the truck. "I can handle him."
"How about a restraining order?"
The hostility brimming in his voice made her smile. How long had it been since someone had defended her? "I can see why Deborah hangs on to you. Under that steely reserve, you're just a big, strong teddy bear."
He turned to stare at her, emerald eyes flashing anger. "I'm serious."
Without ever realizing it, Harrison could damage her spirit more than Lance could accomplish in a lifetime. Because Harry made her feel hopeful. He made her wish for foolish things. He made her vulnerable in a way Lance never could.
Kendall turned the engine over, smiling as it revved to life. "Just be glad you get to head back home today, Harry." And leave her in the rearview mirror. "You'll be safely back to your comfort zone."
"Just because I'm back in Stafford doesn't mean I won't help you. It's in both our interests to get to the bottom of your cash flow issue."
As she shifted the truck into reverse, a dim corner of her subconscious recognized something wasn't right. Where was Lance's truck? Frowning, she checked the rearview mirror. If he was still upstairs in the office, why wasn't his truck parked near hers? And where had he been earlier?
When she parked it again, Harry turned to her. "Forget something?"
"It's probably nothing." He'd already begun the laborious task of climbing down from his seat. "Stay here. I'll just be a minute."
His response was a scowl. "If you think I'm leaving you alone with that psychopath, you're mistaken. Now, tell me what the problem is."
Exasperated, Ken blew a strand of hair out of her eyes. "I was just wondering where his truck is. It was here before and he wasn't. Now, he's here and the truck's gone."
"You're right. That doesn't make sense." He hobbled around the hood of her dusty Chevy. His progress slow and methodical, he stopped a few feet away and waited.
"You need to get off that ankle."
Harry leaned on his cane. "As soon as we're done here."
"I am capable of handling that idiot."
He started across the lot. "C'mon, let's go back upstairs and check it out."
"You are so stubborn." Kendall strode past him, launching up the stairs.
"Don't even think about opening that door before I get there."
She turned back to glare at him and heard him whistling. "The orthopedist is going to have my head on a platter next week. You've done nothing the doctor ordered."
"I'll talk my way out of it."
"What about your party tomorrow? You'll show up limping and your family will hate me."
"Mona will hover over me and I'll milk it because she loves me," he added with a wicked grin.
"If I were her, I'd kick your butt." Traynor was baiting her, pure and simple. But she was in no mood for him to turn whimsical. Where had Mr. Conservative gone– the sexy stuffed shirt who would put her out of business? The beautiful eyed enigma who'd kissed her senseless, then couldn't look her in the face?
Harrison paused several steps below her, a chuckle escaping his lips. "Ken Adams, dominatrix. I guess it could work-"
"Please-" She snorted in response.
"Do you smell something?"
Kendall whipped around at his tone. Harry was serious this time. She sniffed the air tentatively. "Something's burning. That moron probably flicked his cigarette into the wastebasket again."
Fumbling with her keys,
she dropped them once before managing to unlock the door. As usual, it stuck. She was just getting ready to give it a swift kick when she fell back on the stoop. Landing on her butt, she looked up to find Harrison's broad back blocking her from entering the door.
"What the heck are you're doing?"
Palms flat against the door, he swept down the panel. "Making sure we don't meet up with a fireball when I open this. Stand clear," he ordered.
"Why would Lance set the building on fire? You heard him . . . he wants to sell the business, not burn it."
Traynor offered her a brief glance over his shoulder before he turned the knob and pushed against the door. "If I were as desperate to sell as he seems to be, I'd probably be reckless enough to settle for the insurance money."
She shook her head. "You've watched too many movies. Besides, he's still inside. Do you think he'd actually set the place on fire and then wait it out?"
"You just pointed out his truck is gone."
"The only way he could've left without us seeing him . . . would be to jump off the stoop and cross the front lawn. But then how'd he get his truck?"
"Maybe someone got it for him. Maybe someone was waiting out front."
Dusting off her rear end, Ken rose to her feet. “You're so suspicious-”
A moment later they were both doubled over and coughing in the thick, black smoke roiling from the reception area. Sweat poured into her eyes as heat of the blaze seemed to envelop them.
"I'll see if the bastard's still in here." Harry covered his mouth with his good hand. "You stay here," he ordered.
"What? Harrison–? No! Where are you?" The popping sound of wood crackling hurt her ears. The air thick with the acrid fume of burning fabric, the fire would soon be an inferno. Seconds later, she heard the tinkling of broken glass when the windows exploded.
"Harry!" Shielding her eyes from the intense heat, she took another step forward, feeling her way through suffocating smoke. Where was Traynor? He'd been right beside her a minute ago. Her heart lurched when she thought of him, lost in the swirling black smoke.
"Harrison? Where are you?" He'd disappeared in the dark, pulsing heat. How would she ever find him? Kendall took another step and stumbled into a desk. "Harry!"
Taking shallow breaths, her lungs burned with the desperate need for clean air to breathe. Dropping to the floor, she covered her mouth with one hand and continued searching, her hand sweeping out in the hope of bumping into him. Seized with panic, she tried to shake off the dizziness that wanted to engulf her. It seemed only moments had passed before her ears began buzzing. In her confusion, the blackness swirled, smothering her with a heaviness she couldn't combat.
With a muffled cry of agony, Kendall realized she was lost.
"Here. I'm over here." She felt a jerk on her arm as he yanked her back toward the open doorway. The rush of fresh air felt like heaven against her overheated skin. Scooping her into his arms, Harry took the stairs two at a time, not stopping until he'd dragged her halfway across the front lawn. After depositing her on the grass, he staggered to the ground. Rasping in great gulps of clean, fresh air, Kendall coughed for several minutes before raising her head to stare at him. Harry's beautiful eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot from the billowing clouds of smoke they'd endured. He was covered from head to toe in sooty, gray ash. She could only assume she looked even worse.
"You okay?"
She tried to answer but discovered her scorched vocal cords refused to cooperate. After another fit of coughing, she simply nodded in agreement.
"Just sit tight. Someone'll be along to help us," he rasped.
"Where's your cane?" Ken choked out the strangled words around the stabbing soreness in her throat. Talking was still not a good idea. She cocked her head in response to the faraway wail of sirens.
"In there." He gestured toward the building.
"God– your ankle–" He'd put all of his weight and most of hers on his broken ankle when he dragged her from the fire. "Your cast is a mess. They'll probably have to re-set it."
Nodding, Harry's gaze remained on the burning structure a hundred yards behind her. The building seemed to be a living creature, throbbing with the intense heat of the blaze. Nothing would remain standing. Her place of business would be a total loss.
"Lance?"
"Long gone. I checked both offices." He glared at her. "What the hell were you thinking? I told you not to move."
His voice still raspy from smoke, Harry sounded furious with her again. She'd been responsible for nearly killing the man, not once, but twice. "I thought you were lost."
"Kenny, I nearly had heart failure when I couldn't find you."
"Same here."
"Do you ever follow directions?"
If the string of bad luck she'd been experiencing before today hadn't already sealed the fate on her business, the fire would do the trick. Most of A&R's expensive equipment had been stolen over the last several months. The few remaining assets she had left were the inventory of heavy equipment parked on various job sites and the pieces she had stored in the garage. Thankfully, her garage was out of reach of the flames that continued to engulf her office. But equipment alone wouldn't save her.
She was finished.
Together, they watched the roof collapse as fire trucks roared up the street, too late to save her building. . . her dream– too late to do anything but hose down the smoldering pile of rubble that remained. Three years earlier she'd been charged with the responsibility of carrying out her father's legacy. And just three short years later, she'd failed. Miserably.
Three decades of history had just gone up in smoke.
Tears burned in the back of Ken's eyes, and she was helpless to stop their spill down her soot-blackened cheeks. The brilliant colors of her flaming building softened and muted, a horrific watercolor of flickering orange shadows through the sheen of drenching tears. The rough plaster of Harry's cast scraped her fingers when his hand found hers.
"Don't cry, Ken."
His words released the floodgates. Clasping her hand, he hauled her back against him as she wept.
Harrison held her patiently, his heart thumping reassuringly against her ear, his good arm slung around her shoulders. She sniffed and hiccupped in shuddering breaths. "I guess you're gonna be really late getting back today."
***
"Stop calling yourself that," Harrison ordered for the second time as he stepped into her bedroom. The morning ripe with promise had been beaten and burned into submission, melting effortlessly into mid-afternoon. "You're not a jinx, Ken. This fire has nothing to do with bad luck. I'm betting on arson."
Toweling her hair, she paused mid-scrub to shoot him an incredulous glance in the mirror. "Knowing that idiot, it was probably a cigarette butt."
"We'll see what the arson investigator has to say," he shot back, his voice still raspy from the smoke he'd inhaled. His eyes still burning, he still felt a thousand percent better since he'd showered. He'd coughed so much he would have sworn he'd sacrificed a lung, but compared to the thought of burning up in that inferno, Harry felt fantastic.
It was the image of Kendall lost in that building that he couldn't seem to shake. What if he'd allowed her to enter it alone? His stomach knotted at the thought of how close they'd come. Leaving her to search the back offices had been a nearly fatal mistake. When he'd crawled back to the reception area, she'd been gone. In that moment of blinding panic, he knew with certainty they would die. Because there was no way he could have left without her. His heartbeat accelerated at the truth of his acknowledgment.
It had been nothing short of a miracle he'd stumbled into her. A miracle he'd stayed conscious long enough to drag her out. A shudder rippled through him as he stared at her reflection in the mirror. Another minute and they both would've-
"I'll be done in five minutes. Then we can finally head back into town." She flicked a glance at her watch.
"Why don't I just stay another night? The fire marshal wants to see us to
morrow anyway." He hated the thought of leaving her. Not after what she'd endured today. "Or . . . come with me."
They'd watched the fire burn for nearly an hour, then been examined by the paramedics who had re-set his ankle. As he'd stepped from the ambulance, they were met by the police, who questioned them repeatedly. Kendall had been on automatic pilot, answering questions while fighting back tears.
"Harrison, take my advice– save yourself." She tossed her towel on the bed, filling the air with the scent of her shampoo. "Go home . . . get some rest and when you wake up tomorrow, just pretend you never met me."
"You're not that bad."
Flouncing back in the chair, she tucked one shapely leg under the other before picking up her brush. "I'm a walking disaster." She waved him away when he would have argued. "I'll escort you safely back to your old life . . . and then I'm done."
"I can't leave you– not after what's happened."
Resigned golden eyes met his. "What more can happen?"
"Don't tempt fate," he warned.
"I just want to fall into bed. Get drunk and fall into bed," she corrected. "When I wake up tomorrow, I might have the strength to handle all this." Reading his disbelief, she sighed. "I'm fine."
"Damn it, you're not fine. It's okay to cry." She was so stubborn. Hearing the tremble in her voice, Harry knew she was fighting tears. He couldn't understand why she didn't simply give in. What was so wrong with being human?
"I've cried more in the past week than I have my whole life. And where has it gotten me?"
"I'm not leaving you alone today. If you won't go with me, I'll just stay here with you." Glaring at her, he tugged on the neck of the too-tight shirt he'd been relegated to wear. Stafford, and his closet full of well-fitting clothes was still tantalizingly out of reach.
"Please, Harrison. I've– had it. Okay?"
Finally. He detected the tiniest crack in her impenetrable armor. She was coming undone.
Glaring at his reflection in the mirror, Kendall wrestled a comb through her wet hair. Even with the five foot clearance he'd given himself, her scent wafted out to torture him. She smelled delicious. Free of makeup, and with her incredibly soft skin scrubbed clean of soot, Kendall Adams was a stubborn, curvy, sexy-as-hell woman he wanted to know better.
Falling For Ken (Blueprint to Love Book 2) Page 11