Dangerous (The Complete Erotic Romance Novel) (34 page)

Kendra’s heart stopped, then lurched. He asked rapid-fire questions about the day ahead of them, as if he truly was just her boss. Kendra didn’t know what to think or to say, but there was no chance to ask him for an explanation—much less to beg forgiveness—before the first guests arrived.

It would be much later before Kendra thought of that headline news story again.

* * *

E

In which Reid shares his toy...

Chapter Thirteen

Kendra got home Monday night and kicked off her shoes, practically falling on the sofa. She was exhausted. She could hear Jade snoring softly in her bedroom, and decided to wait a few minutes before going to check on her. Her mom had always said sleep was the best thing for a cold.

It was still snowing, but Kendra didn’t care anymore. The buyers had all been and gone. They loved the samples. They gobbled up their lunch. They had been complimentary when touring the plant.

Now, the decisions were in the hands of their respective companies. They’d all done their best, and now they could only hope it had been enough.

It would have been nice to have celebrated how well the day had gone, but Reid had pretty much ignored her. When he had spoken to her, he’d been polite but distant, just the way a boss should be.

She reminded herself he’d been similarly aloof on Friday night, before calling her up, feeding her dinner, and fucking her senseless.

The prospect of him calling later perked Kendra up a bit.

Reid
had
given her a nod of approval when he’d taken the last guest to the airport. “Well done, Miss Jones,” he’d said then, his praise making her heart skip a beat. She might have suggested a reward, but he was escorting one of the buyers to dinner.

Kendra had tried very hard not to notice the buyer he accompanied was about her own age, slim and chic, with long blonde hair.

The way the woman had salivated over him all day long had been impossible to miss.

Was he with that woman now? Securing a deal? Feeding her while she was blindfolded?

Kendra wasn’t sure she wanted Esperanza to survive badly enough for that.

Then she felt childish for imagining she could control Reid’s choices.

He was the master. He could do what he wanted.

It wasn’t that crazy that she wanted him to do everything to her.

If Reid was tossing her back, wouldn’t he have told her? Wouldn’t he have torn up the contract in front of her? Had she pushed him just once too often?

Kendra told herself she only wanted to know, but she knew that wasn’t the truth.

She wanted him to want her, preferably as soon and as often as possible.

She had it bad.

And it appeared Reid did not.

* * *

Reid rid himself of the blonde buyer with an effort, ensuring she was at the airport in time for her flight. She wanted to catch a later flight and spend some time with him, a prospect Reid didn’t find tempting, even at the potential expense of losing her business for Esperanza.

To his relief, her flight was to be the last one leaving the airport that night. She might have negotiated, but he practically thrust her at the check-in clerk, then turned and left.

“Got to get home before they close the roads!” he said with false cheer and walked out of the airport without the slightest bit of guilt.

The day had gone reasonably well, even with bad weather. All of the buyers had arrived and many had been impressed. Reid smelled keen interest in at least half of them. He knew Esperanza needed a third of them to sign on to make Miss Jones’ plan work, and suspected they might fall just short.

He should have been relieved. Failure would cut short his commitment to her plan and his ability to keep Esperanza afloat. He, after all, was ready to step away from Miss Jones and her appeal. He didn’t like women who played games, and those photographs haunted him.

She’d worn a pair of those damn shoes today, probably just to tempt him. It had taken everything in him to not respond. He’d been able to tell by the way her dress fell around her waist that she was wearing the corset too, it having made her waist smaller so the fabric was loose. He knew she was still wearing the chain he’d locked around her, and he would have bet that she was wearing stockings, garters, and no panties. That gag would have been in her purse, and he’d been very tempted to shut the door of his office, demand she put it on and bang her hard before leaving for the day.

He was tempted to visit her apartment now.

But he wouldn’t be her pawn.

Reid thought about women, about the way they could make him lose his sense of perspective. He thought about Alana, and how he’d nearly gone crazy when she disappeared. He recalled how his life had seemed so empty—and he’d never found Alana as intoxicating as Miss Jones. He barely knew Miss Jones, but he knew her passion could be a lure, a trap, an inducement to break his own plan to never become involved again.

He’d never make himself so vulnerable again.

He’d never lose control again.

Instead of going to the hotel, Reid drove to his new house. He drove more quickly than he should have, the windshield wipers working at double speed as the snow fell more thickly. The car fishtailed slightly as he turned into the driveway, and he parked in front of the garage.

Jackson swept open the door even as Reid was striding away from the car and locking it with the remote. The butler appeared to be unsurprised by Reid’s appearance, but he never gave any sign of surprise.

“Welcome, sir,” he said with a slight bow of his head. “Would you like dinner? Or a drink?”

“Neither, Jackson.” Reid shed his overcoat once inside. “I won’t stay here tonight. I just have something to do.”

Jackson took Reid’s coat, brushed off the snow and hung it up. “And how can I be of assistance, sir?”

“You moved everything here from the other house?”

“Of course, sir. Not all of it is unpacked...”

“That’s fine, Jackson. What I want doesn’t need to be unpacked.”

“Sir?”

“The cartons with Alana’s belongings. I want to see them, sort them, and send most of her things to charity.”

There was a flicker in the butler’s gaze, but it was quickly dismissed. “Tonight, sir?”

“Tonight, Jackson.” Reid was firm. “It’s time to move forward.”

“Very good, sir.”

Reid thought he detected a bit of relief in his butler’s tone. Did the staff believe he’d been carrying a torch for Alana all these years? Waiting for her to come home? Reid supposed on some level he had been, at least at first, but he hoped they hadn’t pitied him.

“I suggest the second guest bedroom, sir. Many of the other rooms have already been arranged, and there will be more space there.”

“Very good, Jackson.”

“Would you like some assistance, sir?”

“No, Jackson, but thank you.” Reid faced his butler. “This is a task I must do alone.”

The butler nodded, smiling slightly. “I understand, sir.” He hesitated, not immediately stepping away, and Reid lifted a brow. “If I may say as much, sir, I believe this is a good choice.”

Reid almost smiled. It seemed he had a fondness for servants and slaves who spoke their minds. “Thank you, Jackson.”

Jackson nodded and turned away, evidently going to retrieve the boxes.

Reid turned toward the bedroom Jackson had suggested, shedding his suit jacket on the way. It was a large bright room. He hung his jacket on the doorknob just as Jackson brought the first carton. He considered it warily, recalling only now how much Alana had loved to shop.

“How many cartons are there, Jackson?”

“Twenty-three, sir. Many are larger than this.”

“Then actually, I would like a Scotch.”

“Of course, sir.”

Twenty-three boxes. He wondered if she’d even worn most of the clothes and shoes packed carefully away. He winced, remembering his mistake in mentioning her spending that last day. He’d never seen her again after that fight—their first and only argument—and it still bothered him he’d never had a chance to apologize.

Was that what he’d been waiting for? Alana to come back and at least hear his apology? It was pretty clear that wasn’t going to happen now.

Jackson returned with the glass of Scotch on a tray. Reid nodded his thanks, took a sip, and then set it aside. He opened the box, pausing at the sight of the folded pile of his wife’s lingerie.

And the corner of a gift box.

The apology she’d never received. The sight was like a punch in Reid’s gut.

You don’t own me.

The remembered sound of Alana’s fury shook him. How long would it take him to learn nothing should ever be left unsaid? It was impossible to know when someone would disappear forever, though their own choice or not. He’d neglected to express his thoughts more than once, only to never have the opportunity again, but Alana’s departure was the most bitter of all.

He thought of Miss Jones, but refused to pursue his thoughts.

“Bring the bottle please, Jackson,” Reid said, hearing that his own voice was strained. “This may take a while.”

* * *

Jackson closed the door to the suite he shared with his wife, locking it with a frown. The house was secured and all should have been well, but Jackson had a bad feeling.

He could hear Louise in the bedroom, still unpacking their own belongings and putting them away. He found her bending over the dresser, folding his underwear. “I like this house,” she said without turning around. “A nice choice, Henry.”

“I selected it because I thought Mr. Stirling would like it.”

“I know, but I like it too.” She turned and smiled at him, waving a hand. “It’s open and airy. Lighter. That other house was starting to feel like a morgue.”

“She didn’t die there.”

“No, but she haunted it.”

“I think she haunted him.”

“That would be exactly what she’d have wanted.” There was bitterness in Louise’s tone, enough to make Jackson look at her again. “Oh, don’t look so surprised. She was a piece of work that one, although the two of you clearly thought she was an angel descended from heaven.” Louise rolled her eyes at the very idea.

Jackson sat down on the edge of the bed. “I knew you didn’t like her. I thought it was because she was a woman.”

“Interfering in my kingdom after so many years?” Louise shook her head, practical as ever. “Sometimes, you are a fool, Henry. I didn’t like her because she was a manipulative bitch.”

“Louise!”

“Well, it’s true. I was glad when she was gone, wherever it was she went.” Louise shut a drawer and began to fold undershirts. They were folded already, but apparently not done precisely enough. “I never imagined he’d get rid of her that cheaply.”

“You shouldn’t talk about his wife that way.”

Louise gave him a pitying look. “Going to tell on me?”

“I’m surprised you didn’t say anything.”

“And what would I have said? She was mistress of the house. If I found her in a room where she shouldn’t have been, why couldn’t she choose to be there? If she hung up the phone hastily and seemed furtive, what business was it of mine?”

“But, still...”

“If I’d said one thing against her, it would have been only innuendo,” Louise interjected firmly. “She would have denied it and we probably would have been dismissed. I didn’t
know
anything, Henry, at least nothing I could prove, but I didn’t trust her.”

Jackson once again was reminded that his ability to read people was limited to those of the male gender. “What did you think was going to happen?”

“That he’d see the truth eventually. Mr. Stirling isn’t stupid. It was only a matter of time before he realized she only wanted him for his money.”

Jackson thought of the fight he’d barely overheard on that last day, but held his tongue. Even telling Louise about it seemed wrong. After all, he hadn’t heard exactly what they’d said to each other. “And then?”

“Well, he probably would have divorced her and paid a hefty settlement.” Louise shut the drawer and moved on to socks. “It still would have been cheaper over a lifetime than paying her shopping bills.”