* * * *
Click ... click ... click...
Vincent Galati sat in his Ford Taurus and snapped picture after picture as a group of women filed out the back of KISS. God, they were beauties!
Click ... click. He snapped two more with his digital camera.
Soon, a group of cars pulled into the back. Some men got out.
Galati sat up straighter and took five more pictures as each of the women got into a car with a man.
Holy shit. George would love this. Galati had balked at taking another job from George since his last encounter with that lunatic, but hey, money was money, no matter who or where it came from.
He stashed the camera in the glove compartment, content with the night's work. George would have the pictures via email and voila, Galati would have his money in the morning.
Five thousand bucks more.
Nice.
* * * *
"Get in,” Jared told Kat as he held the passenger side door of the Jag open.
Kat looked at him for a few seconds, her eyes wary. Then she moved quickly and slid her body onto the leather seat. For just a second, his eyes caught sight of her long, silk-clad legs, the top band of one silk stocking peeked out from beneath the hem of her pencil-slim skirt. When she shifted to get her seat belt on, the sight of a deep-blue, lacy garter greeted him. He grew hard watching her as she slid the seat belt across her chest. She locked it, the clicking sound snapping him from his hazy, sexual thoughts.
He slammed the door closed and sprinted to the driver's side. His lovely opponent, his she-cat, knew all the right moves ... knew exactly how to throw him off the track. He'd have to be very, very careful tonight, he thought. Ms. Upstart was going to get what she deserved, and he'd be damned if she'd get the upper hand this early in the game.
He slid into his seat and put on his own seatbelt, acutely aware of his lovely opponent sitting next to him. Kat's perfume wafted toward him in the close confines of the Jag's interior. He longed to reach out and place tender, nipping kisses along the side of her long, graceful neck. Her slim throat, encased in the wide, white collar of the blouse she wore appeared more alluring than ever before.
Jared started the ignition and gunned the engine, pulling away from the curb. As he drove down Main Street, he didn't utter a word, but continued to steal glances in Kat's direction. Tonight, she appeared different. He wasn't sure if he liked her hair up. She had worn it like that before, and he missed seeing her mass of fiery hair spilling down her shoulders. Stupid, he thought, you're stupid! Stop thinking about her hair ... stop thinking about ... her ... and think about what you owe your father.
Anger shot through him, hot swift and hard. It was the same feeling he got when he had made love to Kat the last time, a searing heat that tore through his body. He shifted in the seat to relieve the hard, pulsing ache in his groin. No way would he allow her to use his father in their battle for Summerville! He glanced at her again, drinking in the sight of her slim, dark-blue skirt that hugged her tall, lithe, graceful body. She looked even more feminine and sexy dressed in the simple, classic-cut lines of that suit. He glanced at her lap where the jacket lay across her legs. He watched as she crossed and re-crossed them, causing the skirt to ride up her thighs again.
"Where are we going?” she asked, her eyes wide.
He slowed the car as they came to a red light at the end of Main Street. “Your house,” he replied curtly.
"My house? Why?” She swallowed, the muscles of her throat worked convulsively.
He got a small, perverse thrill knowing he had gotten to her. Jared glanced at her, one brow raised. “I don't really care where we go, Kat,” he said evenly. “We could go to the Pink Lily, if you want, I'm sure Betty would enjoy the show,” he finished snidely.
She held up a hand. “Fine. Take me to my house.” She angled her chin in his direction. “If you think for one minute that I'm afraid of you, you're mistaken."
Jared looked down at her hand. In the dim light of the Jag's interior, he could see it shake, the barely discernable tremble of her fingers made him mentally wince. Bastard, he thought. Yes, he was being such an abhorrent son-of-a-bitch scaring her this way, but goddamn it, she deserved it! To use his father as a pawn...
Again her fingers shook. She moved her hand from his prying eyes, and smoothed it across her jacket.
He squashed the voice of conscience and reason in his head as he turned off Summerville's main drag and made his way to Kat's house.
* * * *
A little while later, Jared eased the Jaguar into Kat's driveway. She pulled her ring of keys from her bag, pressing the little red button on the remote that dangled from the key chain. She had to press it three times to get it to work; her mind couldn't seem to focus on the simple task. It raced with thoughts, the major one being how she would convince Jared that she wouldn't ... couldn't ... use his father to her advantage.
One glance at his angry face told her she had her work cut out for her. She shifted in the seat as he pulled the Jag into her garage. Her bottom still stung from their latest tussle at KISS. Repeatedly she kept telling herself that he really wouldn't hurt her...
Or would he?
She had felt the sting of his hand against her bottom, but the stinging blow to her pride she felt even more. Her thoughts were in a wild, crazy jumble as she got out of the car that evening. She had to convince him, she simply had to...
"Jared, please.” She said as he made his way toward her. “Can't we talk about this? I know you're angry, but...” She stopped speaking when she realized his gait hadn't slowed. Soon, he crowded the space between them and snatched the keys from her hand.
"Get inside,” he ordered.
Kat felt herded. He walked behind her, his hand pressing on the small of her back, applying slight pressure to keep her moving. Her legs felt rubbery and her feet felt as though cement lined her shoes as she trekked up the stairs with him directly behind her. When she slowed, she immediately picked up her pace again because the tips of his shoes skimmed the back of her high heels.
He gave her no quarter, allowed her no space, but continued to make her go in the direction he wanted, which was up the stairs. At the top of the steps, he grabbed her hand and pulled her along, not stopping until they got to her bedroom. Jared opened the door and shoved her inside, flipping the light switch. Soon, the room flooded with soft light. Kat moved to the center of the room and stood, not saying a word, watching him as he followed her in and shut the door.
When he shut and locked it, she knew she was lost.
* * * *
He circled her, like a jungle cat stalking and circling its prey, intent on attack. Jared stopped just long enough to trail a finger down her cheek. “You're looking very pretty tonight, my lovely opponent.” He watched her shudder, smelled her fear. The heady, musky odor of panic, of heightened sexual arousal, permeated the air.
"Jared, please, I can explain."
He hooked a finger in the ‘v’ of her blouse, yanking her forward. “Say nothing,” he whispered, his voice harsh. “Don't say one, goddamned word unless I ask you to, do you understand me?"
Kat quivered against him. “Fine. I-I won't."
He released her and walked away, stopping by the upholstered chair where her satin, coral-colored corset set still lay. Jared bent and retrieved it, stroking his hands over the bony, inlaid stays. He tossed it back down on the chair and looked at her. “Collecting souvenirs, Kat?” He raised one dark brow and nodded toward the corset lying on its side on the seat of the chair.
"What do you mean?"
"Souvenirs. Mementos.” He grabbed the corset and threw it at her. She caught it against her chest. “What I meant was ... are you collecting souvenirs of your latest sexual conquest?"
She wet her lips. Squaring her shoulders, she said. “For your information, Jared, I happened to enjoy our ... night together. I ... I look at that, and, I'm reminded of how passionate, how wild you can be, yet..."
"Wh
at? Oh, don't stop,” he said snidely. “Continue. I'd like to hear your latest lie."
Her shoulders slumped. “I'm not lying. That night with you was the best sex I ever had. And I knew, no matter how wild it got, no matter how wild you could be ... you'd never hurt me."
Her last words were hurled at him in challenge. Hurt her? Oh, he hadn't begun to hurt Kat Sullivan! Jared walked over to the window thinking of the feel of that satin corset, of the smell ... of everything they had done the last time he was in Kat's bedroom. His body hardened in response. He pushed away the unwelcome lust that tore through him and concentrated on the task at hand—taking down Kat Sullivan.
"I want to know how you found out.” He flicked aside one of the blinds and peered out into the dark night sky. Stars shined down; the moon stood out full and bright. A perfect night, he thought, a perfect night for making love. He shoved the slat aside and turned to face her. “I want to know how you found out about my father."
"I-if I tell you, Jared, will you promise, please promise to listen, to try to understand what I tell you?” She tucked a wayward strand of hair behind one ear and folded her arms underneath her breasts.
He pinned her with a long, hard look. “The only thing I'll promise, my lovely opponent, is that you won't ever forget this night as long as you live."
* * * *
"Jared..."
"Don't say another word,” he said savagely, “unless it's to answer my question."
"All right, all right.” Kat replied testily. She felt vulnerable and exposed, standing in the middle of the room while Jared stood on the other side by the window. He raked her slender form with his eyes, as though he could see inside her. “This is what happened. Patrice Lyons is a personal shopper I know. She came into KISS to purchase some things for Jerome Waters’ daughter-in-law..."
Jared's eyes widened. “Jerome Waters? Did you say ... Jerome Waters?"
"Yes,” she swallowed hard. “Jerome Waters. You see, it was Arnya's bridal shower and ... and ... Patrice was sent to KISS to buy some lingerie for her and, well, to make a long story short she, well, the Waters’ women were at the shower, saw my designs and loved them. They must have told Waters because he sent Patrice in to see me to buy something for his wife."
Jared clenched and unclenched his hands into fists at his sides. “Is that the truth, Kat?"
Her shoulders slumped. “No,” she shook her head. “Not the whole truth. I really asked Patrice to find something out, anything she could because I had heard he owned Plasticmate."
Jared walked over to her. He cocked his head and folded his arms across his chest. Narrowing his eyes, he asked, “How in hell did you find my father, Kat? How?"
"I ... well, when Patrice came back into KISS to buy Waters’ wife something, she gave me his card ... and his private number."
Jared dropped his hands to his sides.
"I-I went to see him, I spoke to him, Jared, and ... and ... he told me where your father was staying,” came out in a rush. “But I swear to you that I wouldn't use that information against you. I swear it,” her voice held a note of desperation.
Jared continued to stare at her. “Waters is a pig. A male whore,” he spat.
"I know. He gave up the information so fast, I figured, he must have something to hide.” She angled her head. “He does, doesn't he?"
Jared gave her a long, hard look. “Yes, he does. He's married, yet he keeps several mistresses."
Kat released a pent-up breath. “I figured it was something like that. He kept looking at me like I was nothing more than..."
"A piece of delicious meat?” he finished snidely.
"Exactly.” She moved toward him, he didn't say anything. “I hated the way he kept looking at me."
"He treats all women that way, Kat."
When he said her name, Kat thought it held just a bit of tenderness. Maybe they were making headway.
"I figured, I mean, I got the feeling that, Waters did try to pull a fast one on you."
He sighed. “He did. It's just like I told you. He tried to get me to raise the price of Plasticmate products nearly seventy-five percent, claiming the rising price of resin was the cause. When I found out it wasn't, that he tried to pull the wool over my eyes,” he aimed his thumb at his chest, “and subsequently, my MegaMart customers’ eyes, I was furious. I refused. Then he threatened me with my father's ... well, with my father. When he did that, I threatened to go public with his mistresses."
"I knew it ... I knew it was something like that. He gave me the creeps, Jared. I couldn't stand to be in the same room with him, let alone the same state."
He smiled thinly. “What I should really do, is haul you over my lap and wail the daylights out of you. Do you realize he's been brought up on sexual harassment charges? That he supposedly forced himself on a young girl right in his office?"
Kat shuddered.
"I'm surprised, but grateful, he didn't force himself on you."
Her eyes flew to his. Slowly, tentatively, she smiled back at him. “We could save it all up, you know."
He beetled his brows. “Save what?"
She shrugged. “All my ... indiscretions ... my mistakes. We could save them all up and make one big, giant error out of all of them, sort of like one of those giant rubber-band balls."
He laughed. She was glad to see it. In fact, she felt downright giddy.
"You're crazy,” he muttered.
She shrugged. “Like I said, we can save up all the errors of my way and ... well,” she patted her fanny. “It might save some wear and tear on my posterior."
He threw back his head and laughed, the sound echoing through her bedroom. In the next instant, he became serious again. “But when you saw my father..."
She held up a hand. “As soon as Waters gave me the address, I went there. And, yes, I admit I used our relationship, counted on Dawn knowing about us, to gain access to your father's room, but Jared, I had to see for myself. I had to see what Waters meant when he said your father was crazy."
He bristled. “My father is not crazy, he's..."
"I know, I know he's not crazy, Jared, he's ill. Very ill. I know all about the Alzheimer's."
Jared's shoulders slumped. He walked away from her to go stare out the window again. Kat's heart ached for him, for what he had to be feeling then. She knew all too well what it meant to care for an ill relative. “Listen, Jared. It doesn't matter."
His eyes flew to hers.
"I mean, to me, your father's illness doesn't matter. It doesn't change how I feel about you, and once I saw your father, I knew that all this had to stop."
"All what?"
She sighed. “Our war. Our MegaMart-Summerville war. Seeing your father only cemented in my mind, that, well, we have to at least try to compromise on all this."
He didn't say anything for a long time. Finally, he turned to face her, his dark eyes intense. “Do you swear to me, do you promise you won't tell anyone?"
"No one, Jared. I swear."
He ran a hand around the back of his neck. “Why should I believe you, Kat?"
Why, indeed, she thought? The tenuous thread of trust had been broken. To knit it back together would be hard. What could she possibly say to make him trust her?
"Because I love you,” it came out on a whisper. Her heart thudded painfully against her ribs. She felt the room spin for just a second, much as it did when she had dangled over his broad shoulder. Minutes went by; they seemed like hours. Kat felt as though her heart lay open before him. She studied the hard angles and planes of his face, of his beard-shadowed chin, for any sign that he believed her. She had just told him she loved him. This man was not Arthur. This man, with his magic hands and lips, with his tenderness and compassion ... his love of children and his father ... would never betray her, the way Arthur had.
His lips curved up. Kat thought that if he laughed now, she'd expire right on the spot.
Jared folded his arms across his chest, revealing his tanned, muscular
forearms. She glanced at the faint scratches, the ones that she had marked him with. A hot need built inside her just seeing them. Her dark panther. Her wild, passionate lover.
"You love me, do you?"
She nodded, her throat tight, her mouth dry.
Jared reached out, cupping the back of her head in his hand. He pulled her forward and fused his mouth with hers. She felt him loosen the pins in back of her head, felt him run his fingers through her hair as it tumbled around her face. Her body softened and molded to his as the tension of the last couple of hours faded.
When she opened her eyes, he was smiling. “I like your hair down, Kat, don't put it up again."
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Sixteen
Kat's eyes widened as Jared continued to fuss with her hair. He played with the fiery strands, pulling his fingers between them to separate them. She grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand away from her head, bringing it down to his side.
"Did you hear what I just said?” she asked him.
"Uh huh."
He still grinned like a lunatic, she wanted to smack him.
Jared walked away, whistling, and grabbed one of the lacy, coral-colored garters from the chair. He fingered it then twirled it around his index finger, as he sauntered back over to her.
"Are you going to wear this tonight?” he asked, holding the garter out toward her, his dark eyes smoldering.
She reached for the garter dangling at the end of his finger, but he snatched it away. “Uh, uh, it's mine,” he crushed the garter in his hand and aimed a thumb at his chest, “Mine,” he repeated. Then he leaned over and kissed her.
The wretch.
She blew out a breath. “Apparently, me telling you that I love you is no big deal."
"Oh ... I don't know...” he sauntered back over to the chair and flopped down on it, stretching his long legs out before him. He cupped his hands behind his head and smiled. “It might have some merit."
Her mouth hung open. She closed it, opened it then shouted, “Might have some merit! Why you—” Kat lunged for him, grabbing his shirtfront as she tumbled down into his lap. She pummeled his chest, shouting every curse word she could think of.
KISS Page 20