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Dangerous Love

Page 4

by E. B. Walters


  She frowned. “So?”

  “So I don’t think I’ve seen a genuine smile touch your lips since we met this morning. What’s funny?”

  She shook her head. “It’s nothing, just a private joke.”

  “I promise I won’t tell a soul.”

  That smile of his got to her every time. “My cousins and I often say my aunt is so mean her husbands die to escape her. I know, it’s a terrible thing to say,” she added when his eyes widened. “But you have to know her to understand.”

  “Is that why you try to please her?”

  She shouldn’t have confessed that part when she snapped at him earlier. He didn’t need to know how vicious Viv had treated her mother just because her mother had worked as a Las Vegas showgirl before she married her father. Or that Faith had blamed her aunt for the terrible fights her parents had whenever they came to L.A. to visit. Her father never understood what her mother went through. Then there were things Faith had overhead her aunt say. Mean things that hurt Faith and filled her head with doubts about her mother, her father, her identity.

  “Faith?” Ken prompted softly.

  She shrugged. “Aunt Viv is family. Of course, I want her to be proud of me.” Ken opened his mouth to speak, but she stood. “I think it’s time you left, Ken. I’ve a lot to do tonight.”

  He looked at his watch. “It’s almost eleven.”

  “I work late too.” She carried her plate to the kitchen sink and rinsed it off. When she turned around, she almost bumped into Ken.

  Her heart skipped, and she took a hasty step away. Not that it mattered. His scent, the warmth from his body leaped across space to engulf her. He smelled good. Male. Pure temptation. One she had no intention of tasting. Whatever they had was in the past.

  Still, Faith watched him warily as he dumped the carton boxes and the chopsticks in the garbage. Even though she liked that he cleaned up after himself, his ease in her home threw her off. She needed to create some distance between them, put them back onto a business footing.

  “We haven’t discussed how much you charge for the work you’re doing for me,” she said.

  Ken leaned against the counter and shrugged. “It depends on the risks involved. For now, I’ll bring a form for you to sign.”

  Faith frowned, not liking his vagueness.

  “Don’t worry. It’s a standard contract between two parties. What time do your people take off for lunch?”

  “One to two.”

  “How many rooms do you have?”

  “Other than the store’s main floor and the two changing rooms, I have the waiting lounge, where I consult with clients and do fittings, my office, and of course, the sewing room.”

  “Give your people an extra thirty-minute break. That should give us an hour and a half to do a TSCM sweep of the whole store. That means—”

  “Technical surveillance countermeasures, I know. Ashley told me what you did to find bugs at her place.”

  “It’s basically the same thing. We should be there before one. Do you think you could send me the resumes of everyone who works for you, including the jewelry designer? I want to run a background check on all of them.” He picked up the pencil she’d left on the counter, and before she could stop him, picked up one of the sketches littering the L-shaped counter. “Do you mind if I use this?”

  “Uh, no.” Just don’t glance at the sketch. She didn’t like people seeing her designs before they were completed.

  “This is my e-mail address.” He scribbled on the back. “Make sure you send their current cell phones and home numbers. We’re going to give them something they can use then track their phones to see who they call.”

  “What do you mean ‘something they can use?’” Faith picked up the discarded sketches she could reach and hoped Ken didn’t notice what she was doing.

  “We want them to know we’re looking for listening devices. If one of them works for O’Neal, we can catch her in the act. Tell them what’s going on once we get there, but don’t mention O’Neal’s name.”

  “Okay. Can I have that paper now, please?”

  As if noticing the papers she clutched against her chest, Ken flipped the one in his hand and studied the sketch. He squatted down, picked up the few on the floor and scrutinized them too.

  “Those are rejects,” she explained, not liking that he hadn’t said anything.

  “After seeing what pin-head designs, I can see why he’d want to steal yours.”

  The awe in his voice was unexpected. Warmth unfurled inside her. “Thank you.”

  She looked up and her breath caught. The intensity in his eyes was all too familiar. It was the one he wore right before pulling her in his arms and kissing her senseless. Laughter disappeared from Faith’s lips. Heat rose in her body and pooled low in her belly as tension coiled tight around them. When Ken leaned toward her, his gaze fastened with hers, her lips parted in anticipation. To taste him again would be heavenly. Her heart pounded at the thought.

  Ken stopped and slowly stepped away, a sardonic smile curling the corners of his lips. “Goodnight, Faith. Don’t forget to e-mail me the resumes first thing in the morning.”

  His voice was way too cheerful, as though he was pleased with himself. Too mortified to say anything, Faith watched him place the sketches on the counter and pick up his keys. He rounded the counter and swaggered toward the front door without a backward glance, then disappeared from her view.

  The door clicked behind him. An engine started then faded away. Only then did she sink onto the nearest stool and wrapped her arms around her.

  Why couldn’t she control her emotions around that man? One look and she trembled. One kiss and she would have begged him to make love to her. Worse, he knew she still wanted him. What was she thinking when she let Ken back into her life?

  ***

  Ken sipped his coffee, his steady gaze aimed at the entrance to the building across from the bistro. He had the perfect table, the hidden camera in his sunglasses capturing images with each click of the RF remote-controller clutched in his left hand. The waitress placed a plate of steaming chocolate waffles and blueberry syrup in front of him with a friendly smile.

  He thanked her and dug in, savoring every bite. Last night replayed in his head, sending a surge of lust through him. Faith wanted him. She could deny it, coat it with her cool exterior, but he hadn’t mistaken the desire burning in her eyes. He could have accepted her offer, used sex to show her what she’d missed, but he wanted more than a physical release from the delectable designer. He wanted Faith to need him. Not as a P.I, but as a man.

  Everything he’d ever wanted in life he’d gotten. Some might say he was lucky, others could attribute it to being at the right place at the right time, but he knew it came from hard work, careful planning, and perseverance. He had a second chance with Faith and refused to blow it on a quickie.

  His cell phone rang. He saw her number and grinned.

  “Hey, baby?” He realized his mistake when she didn’t respond right away. “Faith?”

  She cleared her throat. “I just wanted to let you know I e-mailed the resumes.”

  “Good. I’ll have my people start on them. Are you at your store already?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  He looked at his watch. It was quarter to nine. “You don’t open until ten, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Want to have breakfast with me?”

  Silence followed his invitation. He could hear the wheels churning behind her gorgeous blue eyes.

  “Chocolate waffles with whipped cream and strawberry slices on top,” he added. Her favorite.

  “I’ll pass, but thanks for the invitation.”

  “I can bring it over,” he added, not bothered by the brush off.

  “Maybe next time. I’ve already eaten breakfast. See you later. Bye.”

  Ken chuckled at the way her words rushed out. She wasn’t going to make things easy for him. That was okay, he didn’t mind. Patience was his middle nam
e.

  Ken finished his meal at a leisurely pace then dropped the RF remote control back in his pocket, picked up his keys and left the bistro. Hands in his pockets, head down, and shoulders hunched, he ignored the myriad of people hurrying back and forth in L.A. fashion district and headed toward his car. The November chill crawled under his skin. He should have brought a jacket. L.A. could be so unpredictable this time of the year.

  Less than thirty minutes later, he was outside his building, whistling his way to the elevator and into his firm.

  “Morning, Lucy. Where’s everyone?” He went to the coffee machine tucked in an alcove behind her desk.

  “Rod is on his way back,” his assistant said. “Duncan is scoping out their new digs. He found an empty floor in the building next to the firm’s offices.”

  Hopefully, he wouldn’t be cooped up in a broom closet like he was at the last job. “Did they debug Braun’s?”

  “Last night.” She glanced toward the back of the room at Hailey and added in a lowered voice, “they’ll need her to finish the security stuff, preferably before tonight.”

  “Did you tell her?”

  Lucy shook her head and wrinkled her nose. “It’s impossible to have a conversation with that girl. She hardly talks to anyone and always has her iPod on and headphones plugging her ears.”

  Ken shook his head. Lucy and Hailey were generations apart and didn’t see eye-to-eye about many things, including office dress code. Ken didn’t care what his people wore to work as long as they worked together and got a job done.

  “You two need to learn to get along. As the older and wiser of the two, I expect you to initiate the dialogue.”

  Lucy gave him a long sigh and a nod.

  “Hailey?” he called out.

  The pixie-faced girl looked up from her computer screen. With her short, black hair held in two pony tails on either sides of her head, bangs above her arched brow, a nose ring and dark tattoos stark against her pale skin, she could pass for a high school rebel. The twenty-one year old was the best hacker he’d ever worked with.

  “I have the schematic up,” she said. “You want to take a look?”

  Ken walked over to her side. She had a 3-D architectural design of a building with mechanical, electrical, and plumbing systems color-coded. Hailey’s specialty was tapping into any building’s security system and putting the circuit on a loop, so his people could get in and out without anyone knowing they were there. She was also an amazing pickpocket. That was how they’d met.

  “I won’t have any problem tapping into their security feed,” she said.

  “Good. You know the drill. Go with the guys tonight and set things up,” he said. “Right now, I need your help with a new project.”

  “What project, boss?” a deep, accented voice asked from behind him.

  “Something I’m working on, Rod,” Ken said without going into details.

  “Does it involve a certain beauty we missed yesterday while we were out of the office?” Rod teased, his Cuban accent less pronounced. “I’m available if you need help.”

  Ken smirked at the tall handsome guy. Rod was a chick magnet, and Ken didn’t need the competition. “It’s a small gig. I’m sure Lucy has something for you to work on.”

  “She always does.” Rod stooped low and planted a kiss on Lucy’s cheek. She giggled and admonished him.

  Ken ignored their flirting and headed to his office. Sly was already at the station he’d set up for him at the other end of the room. Hailey joined them.

  “I want the two of you to do a background check on Ms. Fitzgerald’s employees. Check the references they gave and see if their paths ever crossed with Sean O’Neal’s,” Ken explained.

  “Okay, but who’s Sean O’Neal?” Hailey asked, pulling a chair closer to Sly’s wheelchair.

  “A thieving designer we plan to nail,” Sly answered her. They both grinned.

  “An alleged thieving designer,” Ken corrected even though he believed everything Faith had told him. “It’s time to test your jazzed-up tracking system, Sly. Hailey and I will be searching Ms. Fitzgerald’s place for bugs today between one and two-thirty. While we’re there, you’ll monitor the cell phone activity of Ms. Fitzgerald’s employees. I’m sending you the e-mail with their numbers and resumes now.”

  Ken opened his e-mail account and scrolled down unread messages until he found the one from Faith. It had five attachments. He forwarded it to Sly then opened each resume and saved them in his hard drive. He’d do some digging too. Next, he removed the memory card from his sunglasses and started downloading the pictures he’d taken earlier.

  ***

  Faith couldn’t focus on her work. Worries about what Ken’s motive had kept her up most of the night. Coming to the office, she’d hoped to use work to keep him off her mind. But the thought of listening devices in her office left her edgy. She couldn’t sketch or talk over the phone without imagining someone watching or listening to her conversations. Ken’s ‘Hey, baby,’ greeting hadn’t helped either. Last night’s encounter had rushed back with a vengeance, taunting her.

  Her gaze drifted to her watch. It was quarter to one. She walked to the fridge at the corner of her office, retrieved a bottle of water and twisted the top off. Sipping the drink, she slipped into the store’s main floor and locked the door behind her. She never had to lock rooms before or treat her employees like they were criminals.

  Up front, Molly rung up the sales for a woman, then walked forward to unlock a display shelf to show a customer a pair of earrings and matching bracelet. How could she suspect her?

  Faith nodded to the customers in the back checking her signature, ready-to-wear flowing pantsuits. Even though it was still November, early Christmas shoppers were already searching for bargains. Two teens giggled as they read the writing on side-laced workout tops next to nipped-at-the-waist jacket and sporty pants. Her younger cousins had come up with some of the pithy messages—Rock it, Work it, Stay Fit, Don’t Hate.

  Faith walked to the front of the store and peered outside. She glanced at her watch again. Ten minutes to one. Where was Ken? The question barely left her thoughts when a Porsche 911 pulled up in the parking space in front of her neighbor’s store and an elegant man stepped out. Long, curly red hair held in the back with a clip, long and narrow handsome face, designer attire down to his polished shoes, Sean looked as elegant as always. Nearly fifteen years her senior, she now looked at him and wondered what she ever saw in him.

  She watched with narrowed eyes as he paused to look up and down Third Street before starting toward her store. Surely, he wasn’t coming to her place. He wouldn’t dare. The closer he got, the edgier she became. The urge to block his path and refuse him entry rolled through her. No, she would not stoop to his level by acting unprofessional.

  Faith waited as he pushed her door and stepped inside. He must have already seen her because he turned toward her and smirked. Revulsion slithered under her skin. She wanted to kick him out.

  “Faith,” he said.

  “Sean,” she answered without moving from where she stood.

  He gave her a once over, his eyes calculating. “You’re looking good.”

  “What brings you to my store?”

  “I was driving past and couldn’t resist.” His gaze swept the mannequins wearing separates and gowns in current season colors. “Dramatic décor. Black floors, white walls, and background on display shelves, mannequins dangling from the ceiling. You’ve done well for yourself.”

  She didn’t care whether he approved or not. “What can I do for you, Sean?”

  He turned his attention back to her, his gaze lingering on her face. “Can we talk privately?”

  The urge to kick him out resurfaced, but she squashed it. There was no point in making him think she was afraid of him. They were also beginning to draw attention from her customers.

  “This way.” She indicated the way to her office then led him to the back of the store.

  As they nea
red the giggling school girls, Faith overheard their whispered comments.

  “You’re right, he’s the one…my cousin attended one of his show and said he’s so cool…do you think they’re dating or something?”

  Sean flashed a smile at them. Faith ground her teeth. She didn’t resent his celebrity status, but to have her name linked with his, even by some teens, left a bad taste in her mouth.

  She unlocked her door and held it open. His expensive cologne clawed at her senses as he waltzed past her. Faith looked toward the front of the store and caught Molly’s stare. The salesgirl watched them with wide eyes. Obviously, Molly had recognized Sean too. Faith closed the door and went to sit behind her desk, needing something other than air between her and her nemesis, who was busy studying her office with narrowed eyes.

  “What’s this about?” she prompted, impatient to have him gone.

  Sean took the seat opposite her even though she hadn’t offered it, crossed his legs to reveal his signature sock. He watched her with a smirk. “I heard you’ll be having a show at New York Fashion Week in February.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Day and time?”

  Her show was in the evening of the fifth day. “What do you want, Sean?” she snapped.

  Sean smiled. “I can pull some strings and get you a spot right after my show, which means you get a viewing by editors from major fashion magazines, newspapers and online players, retailers, stylists, and celebrities.”

  To have a show after his could guarantee her more exposure, but she’d rather get the attention of one editor than be indebted to him.

  “No, thanks. I’m happy with my assigned day and time.”

  Annoyance crossed his face. “Stop being childish, Faith. I’m offering you a chance of a lifetime.”

  “And I’m declining.” She stood. “If that’s all, I have a lot to do.”

  He leaned forward. “Why are you acting like this? The misunderstanding from our past shouldn’t stop you from accepting my offer. I’m willing to forgive you, give you a second chance and boost your career.”

  Could he be any more arrogant? “I appreciate the offer, Sean, but I’m happy with the direction my career is taking.”

 

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