by Julie Kenner
He stormed to Brent’s office and shoved the door open. Brent was at his desk, rummaging through the drawers. When he looked up, surprise and guilt flooded his face. “You son of a bitch,” Kyle said, the words a growl in his throat. “How the hell could you do this to me?”
Mel was behind him, her hand on his shoulder, as if she was afraid he’d rush into the room and rip Brent’s head off. Yeah, well, he just might do that.
“Do what?” Brent said, his eyes darting between Kyle and Mel.
Kyle tossed him the folder. Brent skimmed the pages, then looked up, all color drained from his face. “Who put this together?”
“I did,” Mel said from behind him.
“Dammit, Kyle,” Brent said, “you’re going to believe her? I’m your partner, man. You said it yourself. She’s a goddamn thief.”
At that, Kyle lashed out, punching his partner in the jaw. Brent spun around, landing on his behind on the hard linoleum floor.
Behind him, Mel gasped, and Kyle turned to face her. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry about what he said. I’m—”
She held up a hand. “No. He’s right. Just like you told him. I am a thief.” She stood up straighter, her shoulders back and her chin high. “And I think it’s time for me to go.”
* * *
“MEL, STAY.”
Kyle caught up with her at the front door, his hand reaching out to hold it closed. “Don’t leave me now.”
Brent was still on the floor in his office, even so, his words echoed in the air. She’s a goddamn thief.
She steeled herself, sure she was doing the right thing. She was a thief. No matter what else she went on to do, that simple fact would always color her life. “I’ve made up my mind, Kyle. Please don’t make this harder than it is.”
“Don’t make it hard? What do you expect? I’m sure as hell not going to make it easy.”
“Kyle, please.”
“Mel, we’re good together. And you’re good. Stay with me. Work for me.” He waved the folder. “This is what you do. Don’t walk away from it. Hell, don’t walk away from me.”
She shook her head. “I can’t stay. You know how I feel. I never made any secret of it.” She drew in a breath. She knew she was doing the right thing, but this was so much harder than she’d ever imagined. “And now I need to go.”
“Dammit, Mel. I love you.”
She flinched. She didn’t want him to love her, and she didn’t want to love him. But she did. And that made it so much harder.
“Stay,” he said, his words filling the silence she’d left. “Stay and work for me.” He cast a glance toward Brent’s door, his jaw tightening with anger. “It looks like I’m in need of a new partner, anyway, and this is the perfect job for you.”
“Perfect?” She felt a swell of anger build in her stomach. “You think a job where I break into houses is perfect for me? It’s not perfect. It’s exactly what I’ve been wanting to get away from. And if you think it’s perfect, then you don’t really know me at all.”
“Maybe I know you even better than you know yourself.”
His words held the force of a slap, and she flinched.
“You love it, Mel. The thrill. The challenge. And, yes, I know your past, but so what? It is your past. I love you anyway. You’re trying so hard to be someone you’re not. Quit trying. Just be yourself. Just be the woman I love.”
His words stung, and she steeled herself against them. “I’m sorry, Kyle,” she said, clenching her fists to keep her determination from wavering. “But you’re wrong. It’s not the job for me. Not at all.” She took a breath, then met his eyes. “I do love you. But that really isn’t enough.”
* * *
KYLE HAD CALLED every few hours for the next two days, but Mel didn’t take his calls. So far he hadn’t come by her house, and she really hoped he wouldn’t. She could steel herself against a phone call, but seeing him up close and personal would just hurt too damn much.
She knew she’d made the right decision, even so, she couldn’t stop crying. God, she was such a mess.
With the back of her hand, she wiped her tears away, then returned to the laptop computer. She’d pulled up the Web sites of various placement agencies and now she scrolled through, trying to find a job—any job.
Her hand stilled over the mouse, and she closed her eyes. The truth was she’d had a great job. Kyle was right, the security consultant gig really was perfect for her. It challenged her and thrilled her. Besides, she was good at it.
No other job even came close in appeal, and yet she’d walked away, unable to face that her secret was out. That he’d shared her background with Brent. And worst of all, the reason he’d been able to spill the information was that he knew the truth about her.
She swallowed. He did know. And he still wanted her. Both in his life and in the job. Hell, he wanted her to be his security consultant because he knew she was good at it. And he knew she was good because he knew about her past.
Was that really so terrible?
She set her laptop aside, then pulled her spare pillow over and hugged it close. Her whole life she’d fantasized about finding a man who didn’t know about her secret. Who thought she was perfect and loved her completely. She’d be a perfect princess; he’d be her Prince Charming.
But he would never really know her.
Kyle knew all her flaws and loved her anyway.
A tear fell, plopping onto the pillow, as if accentuating the truth. She’d made a huge mistake walking away.
A knock sounded at her door. “Come in,” she called, her heart fluttering with the hope that maybe Kyle had come over, begging her to change her mind.
But when the bedroom door opened, it wasn’t Kyle standing there, but Emily and Gramps. She couldn’t help her smile. “Ganging up on me?”
“If it’s necessary,” Gramps said.
“Gramps, I—”
He held up a hand. “No. I want to say my piece, and then you can talk. Agreed?”
She nodded, fighting a smile. She glanced at Miss Emily, wondering if the elderly woman shared her amusement, but Emily was staring at Gramps with pure adoration.
“I’m in love with Emily,” he said.
Beside him, Emily beamed, her hand clasped on Gramps’s wrist.
“Oh, Gramps, that’s wonderful.” Mel scooted off the bed and kissed them each on the cheek, sure that she was beaming just as widely. “I’m so happy for you both.”
“And I’m happy,” Gramps said. He took her hand and squeezed. “I want you to be just as happy.”
“I know. I really do.”
“Don’t misunderstand me,” he went on. “I don’t regret marrying your grandmother. But I never felt as alive with her as I do with Emily.”
He gave Emily a kiss. “I missed out on years by not fighting for Emily. I don’t want you to miss out, too.”
She couldn’t fight the bubble of laughter. “I won’t, Gramps. I’d already made up my mind before you got here.”
His face puckered in confusion, and then comprehension struck and the confusion faded, replaced by a broad smile.
“What are you going to do?” Gramps said.
She hugged him, then stood back, taking both their hands. “The only thing I can do. I’m going to tell him I was wrong. And I’m going to get him back.”
* * *
KYLE TOSSED AND TURNED, trying to sleep. With the lawsuit no longer hanging over his head, he should have felt somewhat more relaxed. But Mel had walked out on him, and that had given him insomnia. Not only had he lost the girl, but now he was going to go crazy from lack of sleep. Hardly a fair trade.
He wanted to be mad at Mel. Wanted to call her names and tell himself that the best thing that had ever happened to him was that she’d left him.
He couldn’t, though. He didn’t believe any of that. He loved her, and he’d lost her, and he didn’t have a plan for getting her back.
He would figure it out, though. He’d been stuck at the office working with the
police for the past two days, but he’d tried to call her every chance he got. She hadn’t taken his calls, and he hadn’t been able to camp out on her doorstep.
Tomorrow, though, was a different story. Brent was being arraigned in the morning, and after that, Kyle was going over to Mel’s house, and he was going to talk to her. And if she wouldn’t see him, he was going to talk to her grandfather.
Exhausted, he flipped over in bed again and lay there, his eyes closed as he soaked in the sounds of the house. Just breathing and relaxing. Doing absolutely nothing except wanting her and imagining that she was right there beside him.
“Kyle?”
Hell, he was even imagining her voice.
“Kyle?” A subtle pressure on the bed, and his heart swelled. She was right there beside him. He opened his eyes, smiled when he saw her sitting next to him.
“Do I need to grab you? Or are you going to run away from me?”
“I’m not running away,” she said. “But I’d definitely like you to grab me.”
He did, pulling her on top of him and then rolling them both over until they were lying in bed facing each other. He reached out, stroked her cheek. He wanted to savor this moment even as much as he wanted to cover her in kisses.
“Why are you here?” He almost didn’t want to ask the question, too afraid he wouldn’t get the answer he wanted.
She eased closer, her body pressing close to his. “Because I love you. And because I screwed up. And because I want to be with you if you don’t want to kick me out.”
He couldn’t even answer her. Could only pull her close and cover her mouth with his. She was his. His love. His life. And she was right there in his arms.
Right there…?
He pulled back, fighting a smile as he looked down at her. “The chain’s on the door and the alarm is armed. How’d you get in here, anyway?”
Her grin was wide and open. “How do you think?”
He lifted his brows. “I’m afraid to guess. The last time I suggested that you might be skilled at breaking and entering, you walked out on me.”
Her gaze dropped. “Sorry. I—”
He pressed a finger over her lips. “It doesn’t matter. I love you,” he said.
“I love you, too.”
He folded her in his arms and held her there, the rhythm of her heart mixing with his own.
“Kyle?” Her lips were pressed against his neck, her voice soft, almost hesitant.
“Hmm?”
“I think I want that job. Is it still open?”
“For you? You bet.”
“Kyle?”
“Hmm?”
“I want you, too.”
He pushed back to see her face. Her eyes told him everything he needed to know. “Sweetheart,” he said, “you’ve got me.”
“Good.” She sat up, smiling playfully. “And you better mean it. Because as you can see, I got into your house, and I can get into your life, too.”
“You’re already in.”
“I know.” She took his hand and held it tight. “And for the record, there’s no way you’re ever keeping me out.”
“Is that a promise?”
She didn’t answer with words, but her enthusiastic kiss assured him it was. And when she joined him under the covers, he knew that he’d found the woman for him…and that she really had stolen his heart.
EPILOGUE
MEL STOOD under the chandelier in Miss Emily’s foyer, waiting for the wedding march to begin, her cue to walk down the aisle, exactly one year to the day after she’d first met Kyle Radley. She couldn’t ask for a better birthday present.
Gramps stood beside her, looking dapper and happy. This was his foyer now, too, she reminded herself. He’d been living there for the past eleven months, the same length of time that he’d been married. A whirlwind courtship, yes, but, as Gramps had pointed out that, at their age, why risk a long one?
Besides, the wedding had been more than fifty years in the making. It had just taken some time for Emily and Gramps to pull it all together.
Mel said a silent thank-you that she herself had come to her senses, because she couldn’t imagine waiting decades for Kyle. It had been hard enough waiting for the wedding after he’d proposed on the beach six months earlier.
She could hardly believe the day had finally arrived, and now here she was in her white gown, her veil and her blue garter, courtesy of Frances, to cover the “something old” requirement. Around her neck she wore a stunning diamond necklace, a wedding gift from Miss Emily, who’d wanted Mel to have the necklace that had brought her and Kyle together.
The music started and Gramps squeezed her hand. She gave him a quick kiss, and then they stepped through the doors and into the ballroom. From the far end of the room, Kyle smiled, looking absolutely perfect in his tuxedo. It was everything Mel could do not to defy the slow pace of the music and rush to his side.
Beside her, Gramps leaned over. “Nervous?” he whispered.
She shook her head. She wasn’t nervous at all. Why should she be? She had everything she’d ever wanted. Somehow her dreams really had come true. Cinderella never had it so good. She’d only won that wuss Prince Charming. Mel had won Kyle Radley.
And in her book, that was worth a heck of a lot more.
* * * * *
Read on for a sneak peak of the sizzling book, A WEEK TO BE WILD by JC Harroway, from Harlequin Dare–you won’t want to miss this thrillingly sexy romance!
OLIVIA NOBLE WALKED behind the elderly professor, passing through the chrome and glass doors etched with the name of the swanky restaurant on the thirty-first floor of The Shard, London’s tallest building. Her belly, jittery enough from the long, hair-raising elevator ride, flipped at the panoramic views dotted with the city’s iconic landmarks. As a native New Yorker she accepted gravity-defying skyscrapers as part of life, but she avoided ones of this magnitude wherever possible.
‘Ah, the others are still at the bar.’
Professor McBride gestured Libby ahead of him towards the party of suits. Libby’s legs wobbled on her four-inch heels as she crossed the plush carpet, trying to master the hold adrenaline had on her body. Her poor adrenal glands were wrung dry, and the sophistication and elegance of this stunning restaurant was completely wasted on her.
Head of her own marketing business in New York, she was used to public speaking. That didn’t mean she enjoyed it, or that nerves hadn’t gripped her for the whole forty-minute presentation she’d given this morning at the London Business School. In fact she’d been blown away when invited to speak at such a prestigious seminar, unaware that anyone across the pond had even heard of her small up-and-coming company.
The rest of the morning’s speakers were clustered at the bar, forming small huddles, deep in conversation. Several glanced up as Libby and Professor McBride approached—faces she recognised from the seminar, and one face in particular that demanded more than a fair share of her attention. A face it was hard to ignore.
Alex Lancaster.
His stare lifted from the conversation taking place before him, settling on her over the tops of the heads separating them and practically stripping her bare. A shiver originated in her ovaries and snaked south to join the wobble in her legs. Those eyes… The intensity with which they pierced the recipient of his undivided attention…
Wow. Close up he was…wow.
He looked like a movie star bad-boy, a gentleman rogue and a geeky surfer dude all rolled into one mouthwatering package. Not that he had much of the surfer dude on display at the moment, attired as he was in a tailored three-piece suit that had probably cost more than the annual mortgage repayment on her modest six-hundred-square-foot apartment. The only nod to his wilder side was the slightly dishevelled flop of dark hair, which looked as if it refused to be tamed, no matter what he did.
Libby clenched her thighs together, her twitchy fingers gripping her handbag.
‘Glass of wine, my dear?’ Professor McBride asked.
Libby nodded, her eyes hot as she stared back at Alex Lancaster for longer than was polite or wise. Likely she was not the only woman in the room who found that staring at this disarmingly attractive specimen of manhood pushed semi-pornographic visions into her head.
She rolled her shoulders and looked away, blinking the burn from her eyes. A snort gusted over her top lip. Who was she kidding? Her thoughts veered firmly towards the absolutely pornographic where he was concerned. She tugged at the hem of her tailored jacket. Time to get her head back in the game.
She was a professional, a well-respected member of the business community who owned her own successful marketing business—credentials that had prompted her invitation to London to speak at the ‘Inspiring Business Leaders of the Future’ seminar.
She darted her attention back to Professor McBride, who was making lengthy introductions to those closest, all the while willing her greedy eyes to stay away from the lure of Mr Lancaster, the only other person close to her age in the group.
Libby zoned out of the tedious conversation, discreetly blowing through pursed lips and lifting wisps of escaped hair from her too-warm face. How could that man have such a profound effect on her? Perhaps her PA was right, and she did need a ‘good seeing-to’. She’d have to give the perceptive Scotsman a raise, or finally sign up to that dating app he kept shoving in front of her.
Mmm…maybe not.
Fickle thoughts drifted back to the smokin’ billionaire across the restaurant. Forget swiping left or right. She could just swipe him out of that suit, tangle her fingers in that too-long hair while she directed his smart, arrogant head south… The dark scruff covering his angular face scraping across her sensitive inner thighs…
Whew! Potent stuff. There must be something in the English water—it was the only explanation for her train of thought.
She cleared her perilously tight throat, yanking her mind out of the gutter, her gaze from the toes of her favourite shoes and her attention back to the drone of Professor McBride’s voice.
‘…and this is Alex Lancaster, one of our former golden boys, university benefactor and the major sponsor of today’s seminar—although I’m sure he needs no introduction.’