Dangerous (The Complete Erotic Romance Novel) (73 page)

“You look like you’re going somewhere.”

“I am. My flight’s at eight.” He touched her shoulder with his fingertips on his way past her, but didn’t kiss her.

Kendra was well aware of the omission. She trailed after him to the walk-in closet. “Flight to where?”

“The west coast, then probably Asia.” He chose a shirt and put it on, and she had the sense he was avoiding her gaze. He dressed quickly but not hurriedly, choosing a dark blue suit as she stood in the doorway and watched.

“What about Esperanza?” She wanted to ask about them, but his manner made her bite back the words.

He turned to the mirror, knotting his tie as her heart pounded. He was leaving. Whatever they had had was over, and he was just walking away. Kendra couldn’t believe it, but as Reid dressed for his trip, the truth couldn’t be avoided.

“I’m leaving Esperanza in your capable hands. Run it as if it were your own.”

“But what about you?”

“I have other companies to run.” Reid spun to face her, and his gaze was more intent than she’d expected. “You can save Esperanza, Kendra, and if you do, you’ll have a better credential than any MBA program could ever give you.”

The brilliant blue of his eyes told her he felt strongly about this, too, but was trying to hide his thoughts from her. Kendra couldn’t imagine why, much less understand his reasoning. She thought they’d moved beyond that to a wonderful intimacy.

An intimacy Reid evidently didn’t want anymore. The realization made her catch her breath.

“So, you’re just walking away.” She heard the hurt in her voice.

“No. I’m stepping back so you can prove yourself.” He smiled a little, but it was a polite smile. “You can contact me any time you want to discuss options or strategies.” His voice deepened. “It needs to be your project, Kendra. There can be no doubt that any achievement will be yours.” He put on his suit jacket and checked his appearance once more in the mirror before turning to leave. She saw the shadow in his eyes but couldn’t understand it.

If he didn’t want to go, why was he?

She stood resolutely in the doorway, blocking his exit. “There’s more between us than Esperanza and you know it.”

“There was,” Reid said gently. He caught her shoulders in his hands and kissed her forehead, a far cry from the embrace she wanted from him. “You can stay here as long as you want. I’ll tell Jackson. Take care, Kendra.”

With one last glance into her eyes, he was gone, striding past her and leaving her heart in shards. Kendra couldn’t believe it, but she heard him talk to Jackson, heard him leave, and knew when the front door closed behind him she might never see Reid Stirling again. She looked around the closet where they’d played their games and couldn’t believe it had been just days before.

The day before had been horrific, but she’d expected them to come through it together, to be stronger together.

Instead, it seemed to have reminded him of his love for Alana. Even though she’d been a mercenary, he’d loved her. Kendra had thought so repeatedly, and certainly Reid had never confessed to loving her.

Which pretty much said it all. They’d had a contract. They’d had some sexual adventures and some fun. But the contract was torn up and the relationship was over. Kendra had never been pathetic about break-ups and she wasn’t going to start now. She got her bag and packed away the few clothes she had brought to his house, showered, then dressed and left the bedroom without a backward glance. She thanked Jackson, called a cab, and went to work.

Reid had given her the proverbial keys to the kingdom. He might not love her but she’s show him his trust in her was deserved.

Esperanza would thrive under her care.

* * *

The furor hadn’t lasted very long at Esperanza. The media moved on quickly to fresher stories, and many of the staff believed all along Reid had to be innocent of his wife’s murder. With his absence, events seemed to drift more quickly into people’s memories, and to seem less real.

It could have all been a bad dream.

Kendra certainly found herself wondering more than once if it really happened.

She was surprised by her own ability to throw herself into her work. It was lonely, putting so much into Esperanza, but it was rewarding, too. She was glad to see the strain leave the faces of the ladies in the back room, and liked the positive attitude that came to characterize the atmosphere at work. Everyone was starting to believe anything was possible—after all, Esperanza Enterprises was thriving as it never had before. People worked together with new enthusiasm and it seemed they went from strength to strength.

The stores were cautiously optimistic about carrying the lingerie lines in future, but Kendra was glad she didn’t have to rely upon their support or the revenue from those orders. They tended to be slow to pay and it was hard to be sure how much product they’d take. Reid had been right about diversifying their income stream.

The Plume, in contrast, was absolutely reliable. She could have set her watch by the volume of monthly orders, and they increased at a nice steady pace. The Plume paid on time, every time, as reliable as any receivable could ever be. Rex also visited the plant every two months and charmed the ladies, even as he discussed quality and production. Alicia’s boutique line hadn’t been taken on by any stores, although the Plume had picked up a few items. It sold best through Esperanza’s new website, and Naomi had been working on some designs with broader appeal. It seemed to Kendra the atelier’s work might always be a niche market. Naomi didn’t seem to mind.

The website had proven to be a boon. Not only did it get a lot of traffic and book a lot of orders, but the customers prepaid for their purchases. There came a phase about a month after Reid’s departure when Kendra was caught between the need to increase production to meet orders and a lack of ready cash for payroll and materials. Jimmy had booked an advertising blitz online for the website and the site catapulted to a new level of visibility. From that point on, the orders poured in from the website, and the cash had solved many challenges.

Reid was available to Kendra, but mostly she emailed him with questions. It was too hard to hear his voice and to talk dispassionately with him about fabrics, orders and cash management. The sound of his voice and the awareness he was both close and far left her yearning for his touch. It made her feel weak and vulnerable, so she seldom called him. She couldn’t fault his accessibility or his professionalism. He was always polite, always helpful in sharing contacts or advice. He always deferred to her, insisting she was the one responsible for Esperanza’s new lease on life.

The problem was she wanted so much more from him.

And as the months passed, Kendra became more convinced she wouldn’t ever get it. She didn’t move into the front office, because it didn’t feel right to her, but she worked as if Esperanza was her company.

Maybe she could earn his respect.

Maybe that was the only option available.

She’d found her birth control pills in the bottom of her purse after Reid left town, realizing only then she hadn’t taken one since the incident with Ethan. That Reid hadn’t used a condom on that weekend of bliss made her wonder about the possibilities.

It made her hope she might have some souvenir of their connection.

It shouldn’t have been the right time of the month to get pregnant, but her period was late enough to give her hope.

Then it came, exactly the same as usual. The doctor said she must have had some stress, and Kendra had to acknowledge the possibility. She supposed it wouldn’t have been good to have been together out of a sense of obligation, but she missed Reid so much that she wouldn’t have taken crumbs.

At that realization, she called herself a pathetic idiot and worked even harder.

Jade moved out of the apartment, going to live with Tynan until their wedding, but Kendra didn’t have the interest in finding another roommate. She moved on the same weekend herself, taking a larger suite on the top floor of the same building. She wanted a change of scene and fewer memories crowding the rooms. She turned the dining room into a home office and spent evenings going over inventories and reviewing marketing plans. She didn’t go to her brother’s at Thanksgiving, but stayed home, reconciling quarterly reports.

Kendra went to visit Leon regularly, who wasn’t getting out of the hospital. Her former boss seemed to be plagued by a cascading string of illnesses and troubles. The heart attack that had put him in the hospital in the first place had proven to be caused by a blocked artery. The attempt to install a stint had failed, partly because he’d had a second heart attack during the procedure. They’d done emergency bypass surgery, then he’d gotten an infection. It was one thing after another, his wife shaking her head sadly when he contracted shingles on top of it all. Leon remained cheerful, though, and was so glad to see Kendra—or maybe to hear about Esperanza’s recovery—she couldn’t not go to visit.

Her brother and his wife went south for Christmas, which saved Kendra from making excuses about not feeling festive. She started the year with Esperanza solidly in the black, and her apartment as empty as her personal life.

She decided to get another set of satin sheets.

A four poster bed.

And one of those butterfly vibrators. She wasn’t dead, not by any means, but the last thing Kendra wanted was another man in her life. She knew there wasn’t one who could compare with Reid.

For the moment, memories and work would have to be good enough.

* * *

Reid was sitting in the frequent fliers’ airport lounge, waiting for his flight to board. It was a cold and grey February afternoon, even in California, and the weather seemed to suit his mood perfectly. He was working, as he seemed to be doing all the time, and had logged in again to Esperanza’s server. One more time, he was impressed by the progress Kendra had made in restoring the company’s fortunes. She had a natural instinct for making the right choices, knowing when to hold back and when to move. The addition of new products and designs had gone better than he knew she’d expected. Not every design was a hit, but she was honing in on what their customers wanted, yet still keeping the line fresh.

In a year or two, Esperanza—and Kendra—would be attracting the attention of the big players.

Maybe sooner.

He was fiercely proud of her, unable to stop reviewing the benchmarks of her accomplishments. She didn’t even need his advice very often anymore, which was good as a measure of her skill but disappointing for the lack of contact.

Would he lose touch with Kendra completely? The possibility was so troubling Reid had to focus more on the screen. He considered the financials, noting how she’d steered so well through a potential cash crisis, and shook his head at the success of the online store. If Leon had listened to Kendra sooner, Reid would never have had the chance to buy Esperanza.

He never would have met Kendra.

The realization sat like a stone in his gut. He’d tried to give them distance so he could assess the truth of his feelings, but absence seemed only to increase Kendra’s hold over him. All he wanted was to be with her again. Reid had never lost his focus so completely before. His days seemed endless and empty, and he was starting to question everything.

Yet Kendra had picked up and carried on. She had a resiliency Reid knew he lacked.

Maybe he wasn’t the only one with lessons to teach about pleasure and pain.

“I never would have imagined you’d lose your stride,” a man said, amusement in his tone. Reid glanced up as Rex sat down easily beside him. It was, come to think of it, the same lounge where they had met months before. Rex put down his laptop bag and took a sip of his coffee. He grimaced, then set down the cup, turning to consider Reid with those remarkable green eyes. “But then, neither of us do well with vulnerability. I think that’s what we have in common.”

“I don’t understand,” Reid said, although he was pretty sure he did.

Rex held up his left hand. There was a gold wedding band on his third finger, one that hadn’t been there before.

Reid was surprised. “It looks like congratulations are in order.”

“They are,” Rex said firmly, then leaned forward. “Why are you cheating yourself and Kendra of what you have together?”

The conversation made Reid uncomfortable. He wasn’t used to talking about his feelings, not with anybody. “Who says I am?”

“Anyone with eyes in their head. You look exhausted, and so does she.”

Reid found himself looking up like a hopeful puppy. “You’ve seen her?”

“I go to Esperanza to check on production. I’ve seen her. You’ve both got this haggard look in common.”

The idea Kendra might be missing him the way he was missing her filled Reid with unexpected pleasure, though he tried to hide his reaction from his companion.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Rex said softly.

“You can’t.”

“I do. You think you’ll always run solo, that your independence is such a part of who you are that relying on anyone just doesn’t make sense. You think you must be able to live without that person, even though your heart is captured and your mind not far behind it. You think it must be infatuation, and you fight its hold, because it makes you vulnerable.”