“The best man and maid of honor,” he reminded her.
She made an annoyed sound. “So give yourself a pat in the back already and move on. I’m not hanging up until you send me that itinerary.”
“Just a sec.” How his sister always managed to see through his half-baked lies had puzzled him for as far back as he could remember. When they were kids, she’d call him out in front of their parents or his friends. She’d tamed her attitude a little, but she still had no problem chewing his ass when it was just the two of them. Little sisters were a real pain.
He found a flight that worked for him and pulled out his credit card from his wallet. Once he completed his purchase, he sent an email confirmation to Misa. “I’ll be arriving at ten-fifteen. Think you can pick me up?”
“Sure. How’s business?”
“Couldn’t be better. And you?”
“Fun. You don’t know what you’re missing.”
Ken grinned. She was a lot subtler with her hints than their father, who considered Ken’s choice of career an embarrassment. “Sorry, sis. I’d rather crawl through sewers than become a money-making robot in one of your offices.”
“Ouch. Watch who you’re calling a robot. The e-mail just came through. Okay, see you Saturday morning. Don’t forget the presents.”
Presents? Damn. “I won’t.”
“You haven’t bought them yet, have you?”
“Good-bye, smarty pants.” Ken closed the cell phone. He scowled, mentally going through the Christmas, birthday, and anniversary presents he’d gotten his parents over the years. What could he get them without ticking off his father?
He and his old man had never seen eye-to-eye since the day Ken chose Quantico and a career as an FBI agent over Columbia, MBA, and joining Lambda Partners—the family’s venture capitalist firm. He found investing in high-profit, start-up companies boring. Worse, his father would have watched his every move, questioned his decisions, and expected him to follow orders.
What was it his mother liked to say? He and his old man were too much alike and that was why they butted heads so often. Ken shook his head, scenes from last Christmas rushing back to haunt him. He was nothing like his stubborn, cantankerous old man. His father loved to control people. His sister had caved in years ago, letting him choose her college, her major, and even where she lived once she went back home to San Diego.
Ken, on the other hand, was the hothead who refused to tow the line like a good son should. Becoming an agent had been an act of rebellion, but being a security consultant was his calling. His father refused to see it that way. How many times had Ken held out an olive branch only to have it slapped aside? He’d offered his services as the company security consultant, but his father refused. Ken was either a full-time employee or nothing.
Hopefully, the subject of work wouldn’t come up during this upcoming visit. The constant disagreements made trips home unbearable.
Ken grabbed his car keys and left his office.
“I’m off to feed the van crew,” he told Lucy.
“Can’t stand being cooped in here when you could be over there listening, huh?”
Lucy knew him too well. He grinned. “Something like that. Could you do me a favor? I need to get gifts for my parents’ anniversary. Could you check what’s considered appropriate?”
Lucy’s jaw dropped. “You aren’t thinking of using the advice of some faceless blogger. They don’t know your parents.”
“I know what they’d like but then you’d be jobless,” Ken answered. When Lucy frowned, he shook his head. “All I need are suggestions. You know where to reach me.”
Twenty minutes later, Ken knocked on the van’s back door and Hailey opened it. He passed her the drinks and the donuts then climbed inside. Sly’s wheelchair took up quite a bit of space. “How’s it going?”
“Great. Listen to this.” Sly handed him headphones, then adjusted knobs on the trans-receiver/recorder case mounted on a shelf on Sly’s right. Ken settled on the bench on Sly’s left and smiled as he listened.
The women were good. Working with them might just be what they needed to pull this off faster and effortlessly. Fifteen minutes later, a snippet of a conversation between Barbara and O’Neal wiped the smile off Ken’s face.
What was Barbara up to now?
As he followed their exchange, it dawned on Ken that these women hadn’t just hijacked his investigation, they were running with it. In fact, they were doing a much better job than his people. There was no way he could get rid of them now. He caught the grins on Sly and Hailey’s faces.
“Looks like breaking into the building has just gotten a lot more interesting,” Sly said.
CHAPTER 7
“I’ve locked up,” Molly said from the doorway.
Faith looked up and smiled at the salesgirl. “Thanks. Go on home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Molly waved, turned, and disappeared down the hall. The clicking of her high heels grew faint until the only sounds in the sewing room were the rustling muslin and swishing scissors as Faith cut the pattern sections for a jacket. She marked the stitching lines and the garment center, waist and grain lines on the fabric with a tracing wheel and carbon. Pockets and buttons position came next. Gathering the pieces, she moved to the sewing table, settled behind her machine and got busy basting.
Evenings when she sewed without distraction were her best time of day. Designing an outfit was like unwrapping a box of her favorite chocolates. But touching the fabric and transforming it into an outfit went beyond savoring the smooth blend of milk and cocoa. It filled her with a kind of contentment she’d never found in anything else. Not even in a lover’s embrace.
The ringing of the store phone interrupted her. She debated whether to run to the office, but chucked the idea when phone stopped ringing. If it’s important, they’ll call her cell phone.
She fitted the toile on a dress form, pinned the center fronts together as they would when buttoned then she compared it with the finished jacket on another form. The left and right sides looked good, but the roll line of the toile’s lapel gaped. She tugged and smoothed the fabric with little change. The back, when she checked, had vertical folds.
Faith groaned and blew out air. One would think she hadn’t already made the jacket in different colors for the standard couture size two. Why was a size twelve proving to be so tricky? Her first attempt had been too tight, especially around the hips. This one was too large. At this rate, she would end up with no designs for normal-sized women in her collection, something that was unacceptable in her book. Her designs were meant to be for all women.
Refusing to give up, Faith opened the box of pins, pinched the extra fabric and started the necessary adjustments. A little while later, she leaned back and rotated her neck. A knot the size of an eggplant was lodged on her upper back and a nasty headache brewed behind her eyes. She pressed her shoulder blades together, arched her back and grinned. Despite the aches and the pain, she was happy with the results of her work. Her eyes went to the clock at the upper left wall in the room. Eight O’clock. How time flew by when she was having fun.
Eight o’clock? Faith groaned. She’d forgotten her cousins and their dinner date.
She reached for her cell phone at her waist and came up empty-handed. She jumped up, raced to her office, and fished the phone from her bag. There were four missed calls from Ash. She must be livid.
Faith lifted her thumb to press the ‘send’ button to redial her cousin’s number but the phone started to ring. She recognized the number and groaned. Ken. For two days she’d waited to get an update from the P.I. His timing sucked.
“Ken, I’d like to talk, but I can’t right now. Can I call you back?” Faith asked into the phone as she picked up her bag.
“Sure, but first tell me, are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Why do you ask?” She turned off the lights in her office and headed back to the sewing room to get her other bag.
“Ashley’s been trying
to get ahold of you and was concerned when she couldn’t.”
“Sorry about that. I was doing something and lost track of time. I’m on my way out, but thanks for checking on me.” She locked up the finished jacket and toile, stashing the remaining muslin, tracing wheel, and carbon in her sewing bag for later. “I need to call Ash. Can we catch up later? I’d like the update you promised me.”
“I’m outside, Faith.”
She cringed. Ash was going to be sorry for doing this to her. “Uh, well, I’m fine, so you don’t have to wait around.”
He chuckled. “I’m not leaving until I see you and confirm you’re okay.”
Sweet, but unnecessary. She sighed and flipped the switch to turn off the lights in the sewing room, moved to the main floor of the store, and strained to see through the glass wall. Street light bathed Ken as he stood near the entrance. Dressed in black, he looked dangerous and invincible, like no one could make him leave until he was good and ready. He waved when he saw her.
Mortified beyond words, Faith waved back.
“I’ll be out in a second.” She pressed the end button, gave him her back, and then speed-dialed her cousin’s number. “I’m sorry I missed dinner, but did you have to ask Ken to check on me?”
“I didn’t. As soon as he heard you were no show, he started firing questions like a drill sergeant. By the time I finished telling him that I’d already called your house, office, and cell phone, he was inside his car.” Her tone lowered as she continued, “Is everything okay, Faith? The way Ken panicked worried me more than you bailing on me.”
Faith’s anger leached out of her, and for a brief moment she was tempted to confide in her cousin about Sean. She fought the temptation. Ashley went through hell at a hand of psycho killer over a year ago and didn’t need to get embroiled in this mess.
Faith explained the whole jacket design fiasco. “But that’s no excuse. I should have let you know I was running late.”
“Yes, you should have, but I know how it is when one’s creative juices flow and nothing else matters but the end product.”
Faith sighed with relief. Her cousin was known to lock herself in her studio for days to finish a painting. “Will you take a rain check for tonight?”
“Of course. Can I talk to your man now?”
“He’s not my man.” Yet, a voice added in the back of her head. Faith continued to where Ken waited.
“He could have fooled me,” Ashley quipped, but Faith ignored her. Instead, she punched in the code to arm the store’s security system and stepped outside. Ken stood less than a foot away, legs braced and hands crossed over his chest, his expression watchful.
“Ash wants to talk to you.” Faith offered him her phone.
Their fingers grazed as he took the phone. The effect on her was like an electric shock and she sucked in her breath. Ken froze. Had he felt the zing, too? Their gazes connected. The moment stretched. His lips widened into a bone-melting smile. The handsome rogue was aware of how he affected her. Faith narrowed her eyes, daring him to say anything.
Still grinning, Ken raised the phone to his ear. “Yes? No problem.” He laughed. The sound was deep and rich, and Faith wondered what Ashley had told him to elicit such a response. “Is that so? Of course, I will. No, thank you. Yes, she’s right here.”
Faith took the phone and stepped back. She was dying to ask Ashley what she’d said to Ken, but she couldn’t with him in hearing distance. She’d never been jealous over a man before now. “I’ll call you later tonight, Ash. Okay?”
“Not tonight. Let’s do lunch tomorrow.”
“One o’clock?”
“We’ll be there. Have fun tonight. Love ya.” She hung up.
Faith stared at the phone, not liking Ash’s chipper tone of voice or words. What did she mean by ‘have fun tonight?’
“Have you eaten?” Ken cut into her thoughts, drawing her attention.
“No, but I have leftovers.” I think. She dropped the cell phone inside her bag and reached for her car keys. “Once again, thanks for coming to check on me. Ash shouldn’t have imposed on you like that.”
“I didn’t mind. Have dinner with me?”
The offer was tempting. “I’m not up to dining out tonight, Ken. I’m exhausted.”
“I meant at my place, not a restaurant. I had just finished cooking when Ashley called. We can talk while we eat.”
Even though she wanted to know about the outcome of his investigation, Faith’s first instinct was to turn him down again. Images of the two of them at his place flashed in her head. When not making love to her, Ken had fed her Jello topped with blended whipped cream and cream cheese, playfully dropping dollops onto her nipples and belly button then lapping them off with his tongue. Faith sighed. Kenneth Lambert knew how to take care of a woman in and out of bed.
“Faith?”
For crying out loud, they were adults, not horny teenagers. Besides, their relationship was purely professional.
“I’ll follow you.” Her voice sounded breathless, which annoyed her.
Ken chuckled. “Just like last time.”
Faith didn’t get what he meant then it dawned on her. She’d said the exact same words a year ago before they drove their separate cars to his place. Only this time, Ken wasn’t inviting her for sensual pleasure. Or was he?
She lifted her chin and looked into his eyes, her heart picking up tempo. “But it’s different this time.”
“Is it?”
“Are you inviting me to dinner or do you have something else in mind, Ken?” she asked softly, eyes narrowed.
His grin disappeared. “I just want us to talk, and what better way to do that than over dinner?”
The wave of disappointment that rolled through her took her by surprise. What was wrong with her? Either she wanted their relationship to be strictly business or physical too. She couldn’t have it both ways. “Do you still have the same condo?”
“Yes.”
“Then I don’t need to follow you. See you there.” Faith pushed on the unlock button on her car’s remote control, opened the door, and slid behind the wheel. Through the rearview mirror, she watched a grinning Ken trip over his feet to get inside his SUV. Was she making a mistake going to Ken’s place?
***
Ken started the engine and eased behind Faith. He didn’t mind following the lovely designer anywhere. The panic that Ashley’s call had sparked confirmed that his feelings for Faith ran deeper than he’d thought, and he wouldn’t be happy until she was back in his arms where she belonged. Every moment in her company mocked his decision not to have an affair with her. He wanted a deeper, meaningful, long term relationship, something that couldn’t be rushed. He didn’t want to scare her off by coming on too strong, but at the same time, doing nothing was screwing with his head. To compound his frustration, his gut instinct also told him she wasn’t ready. Deciding on his next move was proving to be a real pain in the ass.
His headlights lit her car parked at the curb outside his complex. He pressed the remote garage door opener and eased into the parking space. When he stepped out of his SUV, she was waiting on the edge of his driveway. Dressed in spiked-heeled, knee-length boots, skinny jeans, and a blouse that frothed around her hips topped with a cropped jacket, she was breathtaking. But the way her hand flexed on the strap of her bag said she wasn’t as relaxed as she tried to portray. His rushed to ease her worries in the only way he knew how.
“For a perfectly sane woman, you drive like a maniac,” he teased.
Faith grinned, her shoulders dropping a fraction. “Don’t hate me just because you drive like my Auntie Sophia.”
“Let me guess. That’s the one who wears thick glasses and totters around with a walker.”
“And has a fondness for cookies dunked in milk,” she added.
“Ouch.”
Faith’s eyes twinkled. “She’s also my favorite great aunt.”
“Then I’ll overlook the insult. Come on. I’m starving.” Pleased
that he had eased her tension, Ken steered Faith toward the entrance to his condo and pressed a button on the wall to close the garage door. A short hallway led them past the arched doorway to the living room, where he paused and indicated toward the couch. “Make yourself comfortable while I get us something to drink. What would you like? Wine, beer, orange juice, or soda?”
“Wine, please.”
Ken waited until she stepped into the room before he continued on to the kitchen. Having her inside his home felt right. Last time, he’d been too busy savoring the sweet taste of her to think beyond bedding her. He never gave her a chance to leave his bedroom either. Except when she sneaked out and left you, a voice mocked. Ken shook his head, refusing to rehash the past. This was a new beginning for both of them and he planned to get it right.
He’d set the oven on low to keep the food warm. One by one, he removed the aluminum-covered bowls and plates, and hiked up the temperature to three-fifty. He retrieved a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon from a wine rack in the pantry and two wine glasses from a cupboard, opened the bottle, and filled their glasses. As he removed frozen garlic bread from the freezer, the back of his neck tingled.
Ken looked up to find Faith leaning against the wall separating the kitchen from the living room, studying him. Without her jacket, the short sleeves of her shirt hugged her slender but sculpted upper arms. The dipping neckline showcased her graceful neck and enticing cleavage. And the jeans hugged her wide hips and long legs. She smiled, and his breath caught. He’d forgotten the punch her smile packed.
He picked up one of the drinks and approached her. “Red wine, cool, not chilled.”
“Thank you. What are we having?” she asked, taking the glass.
He waved toward the covered dishes. “Rib-eye steak grilled to medium-rare perfection and seasoned with kosher salt and freshly ground pepper; mashed potatoes; green beans with garlic and sautéed mushrooms. If you want your meat done differently, just say the word.”
She grinned. “Medium-rare is perfect.”
“I’ll toast the garlic bread, then everything will be ready.”
Dangerous Love Page 9