Kyle threw the lock as her mother’s voice took on a slightly frantic edge. She opened the door and came face-to-face with her panic-stricken parent.
“Kyle!” Her mom rushed in and threw her arms around her. “Is everything okay?” She drew her back to arm’s length and studied her face. “Are you hurt?”
She pulled away and tucked the towel further under her armpits. “Of course I’m fine, Mom. Why wouldn’t I be? What’s going on?”
Her mother sagged back and eyed her a few moments longer, wariness on her face. “Well, Charles called your father and I, and we were worried . . .”
Oh. Right. “Charles called you? What did he say?” She led her mother into the living room.
“Well, that you’d had a fight.” She glanced up from the couch where she’d perched on the edge with her ankles neatly crossed. “He said it was rather bad. He wasn’t sure if you were still getting married. We told him that was nonsense, of course.” She waved her hand.
“Oh.” Kyle glanced at her answering machine, which was still blinking from the several calls from Charles, which she was currently ignoring. She didn’t know what to say to him. She turned back to her mother. “But that still doesn’t explain why you’d rush over here at ten in the morning and bang on my door threatening to call the police.”
Her mother started to pick at the hem of her skirt and the tiniest hint of a flush rose on her cheeks. “Charles also said you wouldn’t return his calls and that he was afraid, given how you’d apparently behaved that evening, he was scared . . .”
Kyle waited to hear what was so all-fired important that her mother would give up cocktails at the country club and race over for it. She cocked her hip and tapped her foot. “He was scared, what, Mother?” Then it dawned on her. “He thinks I’d hurt myself?” Her mouth dropped open. “Over him? You’ve got to be friggin’ kidding me!”
“Well, Kyle, what else was he supposed to think?”
She turned to walk away. “I’m gonna go get dressed.” She shook her head as she walked down the hallway and stopped at her bedroom door. “You know, he might’ve gotten the hint that I didn’t want to talk to him.”
Kyle threw on some jeans and her old sorority T-shirt then returned to find her mother had made herself plenty comfortable. She’d started a pot of coffee and was flipping through a bridal magazine that had sat untouched on the kitchen sidebar since she’d brought it home from her last visit to the country club.
“So.” Her mother looked up with a smile as Kyle slid on her glasses. “Have you made an appointment to go get fitted for a gown?”
Kyle pulled down a mug and poured herself some of the coffee. She didn’t really want any, but she needed something to do. “No.”
Her mother frowned. “Why not?”
She shrugged.
“Have you even flipped through here for ideas?”
“I haven’t had time.”
Kyle jumped when her mother slammed the magazine down. “Did you say anything to make Charles think you weren’t going to marry him?”
She studied her mother’s pinched face. “Maybe.”
Her mother sat down as her face grew pale. She looked over at Kyle, her eyes huge, her voice a whisper. “Did you call off the engagement?”
Relenting, Kyle walked over and sat beside her. She covered her hand reassuringly. “No, I didn’t break up with him.” But she had been seriously considering it and she hadn’t been wearing the ring since he’d left that night. And she had to admit, it felt like a ton of weight had been lifted from her.
Hope seemed to fill her mother’s eyes. “So, you just had a fight?”
Kyle nodded. “Something like that.”
“And you’re making him cool his heels?”
“I guess.”
“That’s my girl!” She patted her hand with vigor. “Make him beg for your forgiveness. Make him squirm a little.” She winked. “You’ll get a nice little bauble out of it, you’ll see.” She jumped up, grabbed the bridal magazine and flopped it open. “What do you think of this one?” She pointed to a bridesmaid’s gown. “I think it would look nice on your cousin Amanda, don’t you?”
“Amanda?” Kyle’s head spun from the sudden turn of conversation.
“Well, yes. I know she’s a bit on the plump side, but this would flatter her figure. And I’ve already told her she could be your Maid of Honor since she’s about your only female relative. Oh! And I almost forgot to tell you, I spoke with my friend at the club, they’re booked for the entire spring season. No matter what I said they couldn’t fit in your wedding, but they do have availability on June 15th. If we act fast, we can have that date. If not, we’ll have to wait until August. Then it will be dreadfully hot and that simply won’t do. And we don’t want to push it back into the fall or winter, do we?”
She studied her mother’s expectant face and processed the fact that her wedding had just been taken hostage. She felt her blood pressure spike as the pulse drummed behind both of her eyes.
She had a flash of herself as a marionette puppet, being led down the aisle in a frilly white dress, her mother above her with a head as large as the ceiling, pulling the strings. It was creepy.
“You know, Mother, I would’ve appreciated picking my own bridesmaids. I don’t even like Amanda. I was thinking of my friend Bethany.” Okay, Bethany was really more of an acquaintance that she was still getting to know than a good friend. She didn’t have a best friend. But it wasn’t for her mother to decide and she wanted her to know it.
“Oh. Well. I’m sorry. I just thought—”
“I know what you thought.” She closed the magazine with a decided thud.
“It’s too late to undo it now.” Her mother looked chagrined.
“Really?” Kyle stood and took her mug to the sink to dump the coffee she didn’t want anyway. “How ‘bout if we scale down and not do the big country club thing like I originally suggested? Remember that, Mom?” She turned around. “Beaches ringing any bells?”
Her mother paled but remained silent.
“Bryan is dating that new girl. What’s her name? Daphne? She sounds like perfect country club material. I’m sure they could give you the perfect club wedding pretty soon.”
Her mother got some color back in her cheeks and sat up in her chair. “I don’t like that girl.”
That caught Kyle’s attention. Daphne must be a keeper then. “Why not?”
“Your brother spends too much time with her. It keeps him from focusing on his career like he should. He’s already spending too much money on her. And she has a child.” She said it like it was a disease.
“So?”
“So she has a past. No telling what kinds of sordid things she could be bringing into a relationship. Bryan must be careful. Besides, I want him to find a nice, pure girl to marry and start his own family with.”
God, Kyle hoped Bryan married this girl. Please, please, please. Her brother, and her family, needed something like this to lighten them all up.
“You need to ease up. You don’t even know the girl. Besides, if he falls in love with her, you’ll have to get used to her.”
Her mother ignored her. “That’s neither here nor there. They’ve only been seeing each other a little while. I’m more concerned with you. It’s fine if you’re going to let Charles stew a little while, but then you need to get over this nonsense and make up with him, for Heaven’s sake. Then you get on with the wedding plans, young lady.” She glanced down at the closed magazine. “Get back to me on the date. And I’d love to go with you to a dress fitting.” She was obviously going to call a truce on the venue of the wedding. At least for now.
“Okay, Mom.”
She saw her mother out after promising to call Charles that day. She had no idea what she would say to him. And, as she erased her messages, she
noticed there was a new one that must’ve come in while she’d been in the shower.
She frowned at the machine. Charles really had to get a grip.
She pressed the button.
“Hey, Muffet.” Her stomach filled with flailing butterflies as Jed’s voice came on. He’d obviously just woken up. “Just wanted to make sure you weren’t going to chicken out on me today. Three o’clock.”
As the line went dead, her heart thundered in her ears. The sound of his voice whipped through her veins like electricity, stirring visions of him so real, it was as if he were right here with her now.
She hit ‘erase’ and rushed to her bedroom to get ready. Even though she had no clue what she was doing, and wished with all her heart for a divine intervention to save her from her fate, she was not going to chicken out. She’d said she would be there, so she’d go . . . straight into the lion’s den.
With her heart in her throat and her stomach feeling like she’d swallowed a lead balloon, Kyle parked her Prius behind Jed’s Mustang and made her way to his front door. Under any other circumstance, she would’ve appreciated the contrast their vehicles made sitting by each other. It was absurd.
She pressed the doorbell and smoothed her sweaty palm on her jeans. She’d hemmed and hawed and fretted about what was appropriate to wear for meeting him today, but in the end, she decided that he could make due with her in jeans. She wanted to be comfortable since she’d be doing battle with him on his home turf . . . literally. And he’d been the one to insist on an informal meeting at his home, so he could—
The door opened and his welcoming smile disarmed her. “So you’re not a chicken after all.”
She clenched the laptop case tighter in her hand. How could he confuse her emotional radar her like this every time she saw him? “No. I’m not.”
He opened the door wider. “Come in.”
She brushed by him. “Thanks.” He smelled like he was fresh from the shower. She turned as he shut the door. “You have a beautiful home.”
“Thanks.”
She set down her things and studied the living space around her. He truly did have a lovely place. It was open with plenty of natural light. The walls were painted a pleasant shade of soft jade and though the furniture was sparse, it looked comfortable. She turned to study the nearest painting. It was Oriental in design, which was no big surprise to her after all she’d seen of his studio. She turned back to him. “You love Asian art, don’t you?”
He stepped into the kitchen area and pulled out a pitcher. “Tea?”
She nodded.
He poured two glasses then pointed to the painting she’d been looking at. “I picked that up in Japan. I studied tattooing there for a while.” He padded over and handed her a drink. “I love everything about their culture. It’s really beautiful.”
He studied the art while he spoke, but she studied him. It was the most he’d ever said to her that wasn’t sarcastic and didn’t contain the dreaded Muffet.
“Wow,” she finally said with a smile. “I’ve never been out of the country.”
He turned back to face her. “Really? A little rich girl like you?”
She flinched. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Hey, don’t get offended. I just thought your family seemed like the type that would travel the world. You know, vacay on the Riviera. Have a second home in Switzerland. Something.”
She knew it was easy for him to get that impression. Most people did. She shrugged as if it were of no consequence. “Daddy always worked too hard. Those years when we were little he was just building the business so it took all of his time. And Mother took her vacations alone or with her girlfriends while Bryan and I were sent off with friends.” She looked Jed in the eye. “The furthest I’ve been is skiing in Aspen. So, no, I’ve never been out of the country.”
A look of sadness crossed his face for a fleeting moment. “Well, you should. There’s a whole big world out there.” He tilted his head toward the dining room table where he’d already set up his own laptop and had several stacks of papers. “Shall we?”
“Of course.”
They got right to work, and true to his word, he was very picky about his business. He’d done a respectable job of keeping things organized on his own, but she could see where he was falling behind. And they hadn’t even breached the audit paperwork.
After about an hour, she found his biggest mistake and tapped the screen. “You forgot to input your accounts payable information for your ink vendors here. But it was just that once.” She squinted her eyes and pushed her glasses up. “Twice.”
He leaned in next to her and looked. “No way.”
She turned to him. “Yes way.”
He moved to scratch his right shoulder, pushing his T-shirt sleeve up out of the way, giving her a tantalizing glimpse of a tattoo she’d never seen before. Something with scales—a snake?—looked to be wrapped around his arm.
He caught her staring and she quickly averted her eyes as a furious blush lit her face. She’d long ago noticed that the black ball was missing from below his lip and it had been all she could do to keep from gawking at his mouth all afternoon. Now it was his arms. He probably thought she was a perv.
“See? That’s why I hired you.” There was a smile in his voice.
Because she was a perv? No. Duh. “Right.” She offered him a weak smile. “But it’s my job to catch that kind of stuff. No big deal.” She turned back to the numbers and tried to ignore him.
He sat back and started thumbing through more receipts.
She managed to ignore him for approximately two minutes and thirty-nine seconds. “You know,” she said with a sigh. “You don’t have to hang around here if you’ve got things to do. I can handle this on my own.”
“I know you can, Muffet. I don’t mind. I think we work better as a team, don’t you?”
She shrugged. “Whatever.” But now all she could think about was that damn snake. Just like the serpent in the Garden of Eden, it was hissing at her, tempting her.
Then the most horrible, most tempting, most distracting, thought occurred to her. What other tattoos is he hiding under there that I can’t see?
She jumped up like her chair was on fire. “Where’s your restroom?”
He looked puzzled. “Down the hall, second door on your right.”
“Thanks.” She ran like a snake was on her tail.
Once she made it down the hall, she shut herself in the bathroom and sagged against the door with a sigh.
“What is wrong with me?” she whispered.
She stood there for a moment letting her heart rate recover and took in her surroundings. His guest bath was small, and surprisingly there were no hints of Asian design to be seen. Everything was very sleek and contemporary. A glass-walled shower took up one corner and all the fixtures and accents were chrome.
She took her time getting her thoughts together. She figured she’d been here long enough. They had most of the paperwork together that was needed for her to at least start her work. She could load up and go home and save her hormones the rest of the roller coaster ride.
Decided, she went to the sink to wash her hands. She studied herself in the mirror. Damn. The flush still on her cheeks gave her away. Jed Gentry was bad news.
She dried her hands and shored up her strength to face him again.
She stepped out in the hall. And very nearly into him.
He caught her by the arms. “Whoa! You all right, Muffet?”
“Crap!”
“I don’t smell anything.”
She looked up at him. “What?”
He let her go and stepped back with a half-smile. “You were in there for a pretty long time, but I don’t smell anything trailing out after you.”
She gaped a
t him as what he was saying sunk in. “I . . . you think? . . . I did not . . . you’re disgusting!” she slapped his arm and tried to march past embarrassed.
“Oh, come on now, Muffet.” He grabbed her arm again and stopped her.
She turned and glared up at him, her eyes throwing daggers.
“Okay, I’m immature.”
She tilted her head at him. Really?
“And I’m sorry. I was rude.”
“Fine.” She looked down to where his entire hand circled her upper arm, creating a heat that was zipping through her dangerously. “Wanna let me go now? It’s getting late. I should probably pack it up anyway.”
He glanced at his hand as well, but didn’t release her. Instead, he caressed the sensitive skin of her inner arm with the pad of his thumb. “Would you like to see the rest of my house before you take off?”
She swallowed. Her upbringing told her it would be rude to say no. But more than that, her deepest, most sacred desire, though she could scarcely admit it to herself, was to be near this man. She couldn’t explain it, any more than she could explain Quantum Physics, but that didn’t make it any less so.
She nodded. “Sure. I’d love to.”
He slid his hand down her arm to grab hers and led her down the hall. They stopped at a door that was cracked open and he pushed it wide and flipped on the light.
Even before he said anything, she was flooded with sensation at the sight of his unmade bed and the overwhelming scent of him that lingered in the air.
“This is the master.” He looked at her. “Would you like to go in?”
She ducked her head in the door and took in the dark wooden furniture and the low platform bed. It was all very modern and Asian inspired. He had decadent-looking sheets and a couple more prints, similar to the one in the living room, on the walls.
“No, I’m good.” She stepped back further into the hallway and away from the temptation lurking inside. “It’s very nice.”
He nodded toward the closed door behind her. “That’s my workout room. Guess you don’t want to see that? It’s just full of gym equipment. Sweaty guy stuff.”
Inked by an Angel Page 9