by Addison Fox
She wasn’t sure why she kept pressing the point—why this persistent need to open him up and look inside kept nagging at her—but she did. She wanted to know. Wanted to know him and what made him the man he was.
The quiet stretched out between them and her gaze traveled over the tabby’s black coat once more. As she stared at the large ball of fur, she let her errant train of thought spill out. “Simple creatures, really. They live in the moment and don’t seem to worry about much. We could take a lesson.”
“I get your point, especially after the last few days, but I don’t think you’re quite up to the task.”
“No?”
“Would you really want to spend your life lazing it away?”
She knew he had a point—and also sensed there was something hovering just underneath the question. “No, I’m not interested in spending my life in idle pursuits.”
“And with your family money, you could if you wanted to.”
“You don’t know my grandfather.”
A light chuckle rumbled from his throat. “No lazing for the Steele children?”
“Are you kidding? I could parade a string of men I’ve done God knew what with and he wouldn’t bat an eye the same as if I’d chosen a slothful life.”
His gaze narrowed and she couldn’t help but laugh at his sudden prickliness. “I’m sure he wouldn’t be crazy about the men, either.”
“True.” She took a sip of her wine, turning over thoughts of her grandfather as she enjoyed the fruit on her palate. “It’s always been important to him that my brothers, sister and I are productive human beings. It was to my parents, too, but we never had them long enough to really hear their opinions of us as adults. But my grandparents—” She broke off, unable to hold back the smile. “They definitely have opinions.”
“How did you get started with House of Steele?”
“I’d call it a combination of personal initiative and grandfatherly intervention. Oh, and grandfatherly investment.”
“I’m intrigued.”
She gave him the quick history of how it came about—each of her and her siblings’ skills coupled with their somewhat reckless natures had launched them on the path of the House of Steele, a high-end security firm whose first jobs were on behalf of their grandfather’s well-connected friends.
“And it grew from there. Although we were all committed to the work, I think I speak for Liam, Campbell and Rowan when I say we never expected the success we’ve found. Or the incredible number of people who require our services.”
“People have issues that need to be dealt with. That only seems to become more the case as one’s bank account grows.”
“What about you? How’d Andrews Holdings become the security powerhouse it is today?”
Jack’s immediate withdrawal was such a surprise, she could only picture a similar reaction if she’d thrown cold water on the sleeping cat. “Same as you, really. An innate skill I’ve managed to monetize.”
“I’d say it’s more than that.”
“Not really.” He took a sip of his wine, his gaze averted, and the tenacity that had been a hallmark of her personality since birth reared up.
“Interesting reaction, Andrews.”
“Not really. I’ve got a business, same as you. You know what goes into it and you know how competitive it is. There’s really nothing more to say.”
She stared into her wineglass for a moment and let him have his brood. She had a lot to say but she sensed pushing the wrong way wasn’t going to net the answers she sought.
“You told me the other day at lunch that your sisters weren’t involved in the business.”
“No, they’re not.”
“Why not?”
“They’re older than me and had interests of their own. Both married and wanted families. Unlike your situation, Andrews Holdings hasn’t been a family affair.”
“How’d you get started?”
“My first job was a missing persons case.”
“We’ve handled a few of those. They’re an odd mix of investigation and sadness. Too often those missing don’t wish to be found.”
“This one certainly didn’t.”
The reticence was there, along with the very clear instruction not to trespass. Where her normal curiosity would have her pressing, she was surprised to realize her desire to know was steeped in something else.
Interest in Jack. A fascination about what made him tick. And the very real understanding that something in his past has created a dark well inside of him.
“Did you find him?”
“Yes. And it was a woman.”
“And did she wish to be found?”
“She was dead, so her wishes no longer mattered. But it mattered to her family. Her children.”
“I’d say so. I can’t imagine the pain of not knowing.”
“Of always wondering.” He glanced up from his wine, his eyes cloudy with memories. “It’s hell.”
“You sound like you have some experience with that.”
“I do. The woman was my mother.”
* * *
Jack cursed himself a thousand times the fool as the words left his lips, but there was nothing to be done about it. Just as there was nothing to be done about the pity he saw flare high and bright in Kensington’s eyes.
Just like there was nothing to be done when he’d had to share the news of his mother’s life and death with his sisters.
They’d borne it and moved on.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t say that.” The words snaked out, whip quick. He didn’t share this part of his life for many reasons. The sympathy that lined her face being the chief one.
“Yes, but—”
“Don’t.”
He stood, effectively ending their conversation. “I’ll walk you to your room. It’s been a long day and we need to be back at Pryce’s early tomorrow morning.”
“Jack. I’m sorry I pushed.”
“It’s fine. Really.” He stopped and knew she deserved better. “We all have things we don’t discuss, Kensington. This is mine.”
“Of course.” She nodded. “Yes. Of course.”
The walk to her room was quiet and she said nothing before she let herself into her room, the old-fashioned lock clicking securely into place after she closed the door.
“That went well,” he muttered to himself after he’d closed his own door. “Like a root canal, only more painful.”
Why the hell had he even said anything?
He’d spent a lifetime cultivating the gentle deflections that kept people from digging too deeply. Hell, he was a master at focusing on his female partners, ensuring conversation dripped with his interest and fascination for them, their work, their lives.
Yet he’d let Kensington Steele in.
Or rather, she’d sneaked in, quite without him realizing it.
His phone buzzed in his pocket and he dragged it out, surprised to see the email message. The jeweler he and Kensington had visited earlier in the week was sending his delighted felicitations once again and was inquiring to see if Mr. Andrews and his fiancée had selected a setting for her engagement ring.
He began to tap out a message when an idea got the better of him and he clicked on the phone number listed underneath the jeweler’s email signature. Jack made the requisite small talk, all while apologizing for calling the man so late in his evening, but was quickly assured that the jeweler was available to him at any time.
“I do appreciate it. I was called out of town on business unexpectedly and I’m sorry to keep you waiting on our selection.”
“Truly, it is no inconvenience, Mr. Andrews. Have you selected a setting?”
“The platinum band layered with baguettes that you sent photos
of. That will be perfect.”
“Exquisite. Excellent choice.”
And also guaranteed to add several thousand to the price. Jack smiled to himself.
Although he and Kensington had intended to get back to the jeweler to discuss the history of the diamonds, their rush to Italy after Marco’s attack had prevented a second trip. Adjusting on the fly, he revised his strategy and took advantage of the man’s ready salesmanship and late-night follow-up.
Jack gave it another few beats before he dropped his bomb. “I was actually just singing your praises this evening to the Italian ambassador of Tierra Kimber.”
“Ambassador Pryce?” An aura of reverence filled the man’s words and Jack didn’t miss the subtle scrambling on the other end of the phone. The distinct notes of a keyboard tapping could be heard.
Of course, the jeweler had a file on the ambassador. He no doubt kept copious notes on every major player who could potentially be a customer or influence his sales.
“Yes. I shared with him the exquisite beauty of my fiancée’s diamond and how pleased I was that it was mined in Tierra Kimber.”
“Their jewels are exceptional.”
“The ambassador was quick to assure me that he’s expediting additional jewels into the market in the coming months. I suggested he speak with you.”
The lies tripped off his tongue and whatever momentary pang of remorse he felt at inflating the man’s ego and expectations was squashed by the knowledge of how much he’d spent on the diamond purchase.
Still...he’d figure out some way to make it right once this was all said and done.
“Sir.” The man’s tone grew worshipful. “My thanks.”
“It is my pleasure. If you would, I’d be pleased to share the information of your distribution chain to Ambassador Pryce so that he may ensure you’re properly contacted.”
The man quickly rattled off several names and that slight itch at the back of Jack’s neck grew tighter as he jotted down the information. He really would need to do something for the man.
The image of a necklace made entirely of diamonds lit his mind’s eye and he settled on a solution.
“One other thing before we hang up. I’d like to purchase a wedding gift for Ms. Steele. I saw a diamond necklace in the case next to the wedding bands.”
“The strand of diamonds, Mr. Andrews?”
“That’s the one. It will be perfect.”
As Jack hung up, the cost of the piece still echoing in his ear, he glanced down at his notes and smiled at himself. He’d made more than a fair trade.
* * *
A heavy tray lay over his lap as Pryce skimmed through his morning correspondence. He abstractly added some butter to his toast as he reread Holden’s account of the previous evening. The up-and-coming Milanese fashion designer he’d invited had agreed to an export arrangement that was more than favorable to his home country. They’d also secured venture capital for a Tierra Kimber software developer from one of Germany’s leading IT specialists.
Excellent.
He flipped to another file and reviewed today’s schedule and his gaze caught once again on the names of the security team who’d attend the noon briefing. Jack Andrews and Kensington Steele featured prominently on the list once again.
The knock at his door pulled his attention off the trim figure Miss Steele cut in his mind’s eye. “Come in!”
Holden walked into the room, but not before he made a deliberate show of closing the door. “I must speak with you, Ambassador.”
“Are we back to that? This is my bedroom, for heaven’s sake. You can call me by my name, Holden.”
“Have you read my report?”
“Yes. I’m incredibly pleased with last night’s outcome. Two of our key objectives for the weekend have been met.”
“Did you finish the report?”
Hubert glanced at the slim file. He’d only read through the top sheet so far. “No. What did I miss?”
“We caught a couple engaging in an indiscreet liaison in your office.”
Hubert chuckled to himself at Holden’s prim expression. “You know we plan for those sorts of impromptu events. Hell, I’d hardly call it a good party if some couple didn’t go off and get amorous.”
“It was Steele and Andrews.”
“Ah.” The smile abruptly vanished as he pictured the lovely young woman he’d shared a good portion of his evening with. “When?”
“After you departed to take several investors on a tour of the cellars.”
“Have you alerted Officer Ferrero?”
“I was waiting to discuss it with you.”
“Have them removed.”
“You may not want to do that.”
“What the hell, Holden?” Pryce worked to control his voice as he waved the file from his tray. “Is there something else in this damn dossier?”
“No. It’s an impression more than anything else. I think they were looking for something.”
His neck and cheeks grew hot as a shot of anger lanced through him. “What are you implying?”
“I believe we need to watch them. Keep a close eye.”
Although he was embarrassed at the social cuckold, he had nothing to hide. “I’ve nothing to worry about.”
“Still. We can’t discount what they’re about.”
He’d had plans for Kensington Steele. Social plans that would leave no room for the talk of business. Although he’d have enjoyed continuing down that path, the news she had a tendre for Andrews—as well as his own history with her family he’d do well to remember—had him switching gears. He’d find out what she was up to instead. “Leave it to me.”
Holden compressed his lips into a thin line and Hubert couldn’t hide a small smile of amusement that bubbled up at the gesture. “You look just like your mother when you do that.”
Chapter 11
Sleep had proved to be its usual elusive self and Kensington had found her way to a small gym the B and B proprietor kept on-site. The room was small, boasting only a treadmill, an elliptical machine and a small weight rack, but it would do. She climbed onto the elliptical, set a thirty-minute workout and then opened her tablet to review her email.
She’d had Liam looking into some background on Pryce with one of his old prep school friends. The man’s father knew Pryce and Liam had worked his magic to do some digging.
She scanned through the email and her brother’s careful, point-by-point list of details on the ambassador. There were a few new tidbits, including some of Pryce’s social proclivities, which ran to a series of mistresses, but other than that she had the same outcome as always.
Nothing new.
Nothing suspicious.
And nothing that would give her and Jack a new direction to explore.
Which only brought her right back to her sleepless night and the endless thoughts about Jack. His mother had been a missing person?
She’d toyed with looking the woman up but something had stopped her. She lived with the fact that she regularly, and with no remorse, dug into the backgrounds of others.
Somehow it felt like a violation to do that to Jack.
Which was likely misplaced sentiment, but she couldn’t shake the need to allow him his privacy.
“I was told I’d find you in here.” Jack waved from the door, his voice carrying across the small space.
“Couldn’t sleep.”
“At all?”
She shrugged. “I got about an hour and a half.”
“What’s that make? Eight hours for the entire week?”
“I’m used to it.”
Jack climbed up on the treadmill next to her and set the display. “Do you ever crash and get, oh, I don’t know, maybe four or five hours a night?”
&
nbsp; “I usually do. It’s a tense time and I can’t seem to settle, but I’ll catch up after we get back to New York.”
His gaze roved over her tablet. “You’re doing work, too?”
“Reviewing an email from Liam. He did some digging with an old friend.”
“I’m guessing by the look on your face he didn’t find anything.”
“Other than the fact Pryce likes to keep a mistress, a behavior he’s maintained for his entire adult life? Nope.”
“Maybe there’s something in that.”
“That the man fears commitment?” She turned it over, considering, but quickly discarded the notion. “It’s a huge leap from philandering to smuggling and drug running.”
“Follow the thought with me.” Jack moved into a light run, the heavy belt of the treadmill thwapping in light counterpoint to their conversation. “It’s a common choice of powerful men. So common as to be cliché and overdone.”
Something about the subtle disgust that rode his features at Pryce’s choices caused her heart to turn over. “You don’t approve?”
“Hell, no. Be with the person you’re with or don’t. Some things in your life should be all in.”
Kensington searched his face, one moment stretching into two.
As if suddenly uncomfortable with her scrutiny, he shifted gears. “It also doesn’t make any sense any longer. His wife’s been gone nearly a decade. Isn’t the very definition of a mistress the fact that they’re secret pieces kept on the side?”
“I suppose.”
“There’s no side if there’s no wife. They’re just girlfriends he lavishes money on.”
“I guess I’m still not following you. I’ll grant you that Pryce doesn’t have a lot of moral fortitude in his personal life. I still find it a leap that bad relationship choices suggest he’s running drugs and smuggling diamonds.”
“What if that’s the whole point?”
She saw the spark—that illusive moment when two disparate pieces of information came together. “Like what?”
“Like how a mistress would be an awfully convenient conduit for diamonds.”
* * *
Jack was still puzzling through the idea of Pryce and his mistresses as he and Kensington drove through the gates of Castello di Carte.