Tell Me No Lies: The Black Orchid, Book 1 (8 page)

I could not stop smiling. “Well what, Haley?”

“Have you made a decision about your job?”

I took a deep breath and avoided my parents’ eyes. Nodding, I couldn’t suppress my happiness.

“I’m quitting. Effective immediately!”

Haley wrapped her arms around Quinn and kissed him on the lips.

Chapter Eleven

“Are you close to rendezvousing with the target?”

“Yeah, Zelie’s all over it. She’ll let me know when it’s handled.”

“Good.” Mark was quiet for a moment. “What are you doing to keep busy?”

I looked around the living room, wondering if it was fitted with cameras and bugs. It was clean during my morning sweep, but The Group was relentless, they could’ve come in while I took a shower. Or used the bathroom. Or when I blinked.

I glanced at my watch and smiled. She was on her way. I sat back on my couch and relaxed. “Oh, you know, the norm. Exercising, reading books…”

He grunted into the phone. “I’ll find you something soon.”

I’d been careful. No one knew about Rain. No one knew she was here or that I’d contacted her. Mark was just fishing.

“That sounds great. I’m all about staying busy.”

“There’s something major coming down the pipe and the boss has you in mind for it.”

“If it’s wet work, I’d prefer to pass on it.”

“I’ll see what I can do, Kael. But if you stop taking hits, the higher ups will begin to wonder. We don’t want them wondering, do we?”

I sat up. “Of course not. But I’m doing my job and I’m doing it well.”

“I know.” He sighed wearily. “You’re one of the best we got, that’s why they don’t want to let you go. I’ll be in touch.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

“Kael?”

“Yeah?”

“The Group finds no value in rebels, you know?”

“Yes, I know.”

I hung up the phone, tired of Mark’s dire warnings. Ever since Zagreb, he wouldn’t get off my case. What did I have to do to prove I was okay? To prove I was a company man, shoot up a mall? I was fine with killing, more than fine. I just had a problem with indiscriminate murder.

I’d questioned a mission once, and now my superiors wouldn’t let me live it down.

I pressed a button on my watch and walked around the room, checking for bugs. When I found none, I checked devices, nooks and crannies for cameras. Nothing. The room was clean. I wasn’t paranoid, just cautious. No one could know about Rain. She didn’t need to be on The Group’s radar.

I went to the kitchen and opened a bottle of wine. It was from my vineyard in Saint-Bris-le-Vineux. We only produced a few thousand bottles a year, most of which went to the local restaurants in the village, but there was one restaurant in Alexandria that purchased several cases every year.

Needless to say, it was a mostly private endeavor, something I did with the help of our winemaker, a local villager and a small staff that kept me sane. The vineyard and Rain, it was all I had.

The vineyard gave me something normal to do when I had those rare moments to get away and forget the world. It was good to only focus on soil and water and grapevines.

I rummaged through the cabinets looking for a decanter and wineglasses. The home came completely furnished, and fortunately that included quality white wineglasses and a crystal pitcher, which would do the trick.

While the wine breathed, my thoughts drifted to Rain. I was surprised when I’d received her text. She’d agreed to come over. I couldn’t wait to see her alone. I wanted to touch her, kiss her. It had been so long.

If it hadn’t been for work and the vineyards, my longing for her would’ve driven me mad. I don’t care what I told her two years ago. I didn’t want to wait any longer. I wanted to strip her naked and make love to her.

We could figure out the rest later.

* * * * *

I reached the townhouse he was renting for his stay in Raleigh. It was conveniently close to my home and my parents’ home, come to think of it. The brick building with black shutters and wrought iron railings was located in a cul-de-sac so full of oak and pine trees that you could hardly see the other homes from the road.

I barely had time to knock on his door when he answered bare-chested and wearing a pair of low-slung track pants. He casually shrugged into a t-shirt as I entered the room.

He closed the door behind me and I swallowed hard. “There’s a glass of Sauvignon Blanc waiting on you.” He gestured toward the gourmet kitchen. “You still like it at room temperature?”

I nodded as I look at the kitchen counter and saw a half-full wine goblet, shimmering pale gold under the kitchen’s fluorescent light.

And then he was standing before me. He brought the goblet to my lips.

I took a sip. Licked my lips. “Thank you.”

He smiled at me. “How is it?”

“Good.” He continued to watch me expectantly. “You want more?”

“Yes, what do you really think of the wine?”

“Oh. Umm,” I motioned with my mouth for another sip. He obliged, following the taste of wine with a kiss to my neck and shoulders.

“Notes of grapefruit.”

He nibbled on my ear. “And?”

I was suddenly feeling flushed and lightheaded, and I didn’t think it was because of the wine. “Lots of minerality and grassiness, melon and lemon?”

He softly bit my neck. “Anything else?”

“Oak barrels? French probably.”

“Yes, but just barely. Shy of six months, I only wanted a hint of vanilla.” He planted a kiss on my lips and when I gasped in surprise, his tongue slipped inside.

I couldn’t stop myself. I wrapped my arms around his neck and allowed him to kiss me. My nose tingled as if I might start crying.

He pulled back first. “I’ve missed you, Rain.”

Shuddering, I stepped backwards, took the wineglass from him.

“You look different,” he said, unable to take his eyes off me.

“It’s my hair, newly curly. I should probably pull it into a ponytail. Is it different good or different bad?”

“Oh, you’re bad alright.”

“What?” I stopped and saw his lust-filled expression. “Oh, bad good?”

“Finish your wine.”

Like a good little girl, I inelegantly gulped the rest of my wine down. I placed the glass beside me and sat for a moment as the wine warmed my body.

He nodded, bringing a hand to my hair. He gently lifted one long curl and twirled it around his finger. “I’m used to seeing your hair straight but this is nice too. It’s different but it suits you, I think.”

He had almost wrapped the entire length of hair around his finger and I could feel it softly tugging at my scalp. Sparks of pleasure emanated from my scalp, traveled down my body and straight to my nipples. Aroused? Check.

He looked me directly in my eyes, inches from my face, and then gently unraveled the curl. His breath was hot on my skin and my nipples stood at attention.

I fanned myself with my hand as if I were in church in the middle of August with no air conditioning
.
Kael was looking at me like he wanted to ravish me. If I finished this glass of wine, I didn’t know if I’d be able to resist.

I sat down on the couch in his living room, better to put some space between us. But then he came toward me with that sexy glint in his eyes. I was wishing I hadn’t worn a pretty silk bra with no padding. Hopefully, he hadn’t noticed my response to him playing with my hair.

I needed to change the vibe in this room because right now, I wouldn’t be surprised if some Barry White started playing.

“I’m quitting my job.” The words fell out of my mouth so quickly, I could hardly believe I’d said them.

He sat down beside me. I’d already told him about my dilemma the day before at lunch.

“So, you’re going to start your own business?”

“I think so.” I told him about Quinn and his offer.

“I could’ve given you the money.” He gazed at me for a moment. “I’m jealous. What’s this guy’s name?”

I told him and he nodded as if committing it to memory.

He stood, rifled through his briefcase and pulled out his checkbook. He scribbled a few words, tore a check off and then strode over to me with his hand out.

I stared at the rectangular piece of paper. He had written me a check for ten thousand dollars.

“What’s this for?”

“Payments for a couple thousand beignets and coffee, whatever it will cover.”

“What are you going to do with this many beignets?”

He shrugged. “Don’t care. Once you get up and running. Make them and then donate them to the local police force or something.”

“This is really not necessary. Appreciated but,” I held the check out, “maybe you should hold on to this until I’m actually up and running.”

“There’s no rush. Take your time.”

“Why are you doing this? Considering how you left things between us.”

“How did I leave things? The ball was left in your court.”

At that, I whirled around, the fear of falling into his bed replaced by red-hot frustration. “What the hell are you talking about?”

He reached out, touched my cheek with his hand. I wanted to close my eyes and just rub my face across the roughness of his palm. But I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. Not after the way he played me.

I smacked his hand away and glared at him.

Eyes wide, he stared at his outstretched hand as if I’d burned him. “I can’t even touch you?”

This was hard, so very hard. I wanted nothing more than to forget everything, the past and the future. I wanted only to think about the now, with him touching me, all over my body. But I wouldn’t be stupid again.

I found my purse and held it to my chest. “You want your check back now?”

“Because you won’t let me touch you or kiss you?” His face hardened. “I wasn’t paying you for the services I hoped you might render.”

He stepped toward me and I moved back, fumbling for the doorknob. I finally wrenched it open and basically ran out of the room.

* * * * *

My father’s lips were pressed into a thin line as I told him about Kael’s check.

“Give that damn boy his check back.”

I sat back in the booth I shared with my father, feeling as if the air had been knocked out of me. My father never used profanity unless he was very, very angry. And had he told me to give the money back?

My father waved away the waitress when she offered more tea. He leaned forward, his gaze focused on me.

“Accepting money from that football player is one thing. I’m pretty sure Haley has him wrapped around her little finger, but I also believe he wants a legitimate business to invest in. But this,” he pointed his finger at me, “is different. Is this that same boy that knocked the wind out of you awhile back?”

I avoided my father’s laser beam stare and played with a saltshaker.
He remembered.
But then again, fathers tended to remember the men that broke their daughter’s hearts. I nodded.

“Yeah. Definitely take that check and tear it up in his face. He’s making quick amends with you. That or he likes to be in control. He’ll hold that money over your head forever.”

Kael wasn’t like that and I told him so.

“How do you know? You don’t really know him. You said yourself you hadn’t seen him in three years.”

It was two, but… “We’ve stayed in contact,” I added lamely and then sighed. I was lying, and he was right.

He pointed the spoon at me for emphasis. “Quinn’s offering is a blessing I think you should take. But if you can’t make your business work with this new infusion of cash, paying Quinn back and making him a profit, you need to give up on that particular dream and find yourself a real job.”

He eyed me coolly as he sipped his coffee. “A job you’ll be happy with.”

I didn’t respond. I focused on my Bananas Foster pancakes and savored the taste of the banana liqueur and pecans.

“Have you asked yourself why that boy has returned to you?”

“He’s not
that boy
, Dad. His name is Kael. Kael Brady. Maybe you’ll meet him one day.

“You don’t want me to meet up with him.” He frowned. “I might just knock him upside his head. I remember how hurt you were. You know I didn’t agree with that cooking school nonsense, but you were going to Europe. I was happy that you were going. Everyone should go to Europe at least once in his or her life.” His gaze upon me softened. “I was hoping once you returned from your trip you’d get this business out of your head.” But then his countenance changed. “So why is the boy here, after all this time? Have you asked him?”

My cheeks burned in shame. “He said he was here for me.”

He sipped his tea and slammed the glass down on the table. “That boy is a damned liar. Don’t you believe a word that comes out of his mouth.”

Chapter Twelve

Kael and I stood in front of a tall glass case. There was a long, heavy silence before I spoke.

“I can’t take your check.”

He stepped closer to the glass case and peered at the Egyptian sarcophagus. “That’s why you wanted to see me?” He sighed. He didn’t turn to look at me. “Why not?”

“It’s too much.” I couldn’t look at him. “Besides, it would only complicate matters. We haven’t worked out the issues of our relationship yet.”

Then he looked at me. “What issues?” He sounded genuinely puzzled. “You made it clear you didn’t want anything to do with me.”

“When the hell did I do that?”

His face blanked and he turned, moved to the next exhibit.

I followed him, my eyes focusing on a miniature Egyptian barge complete with stone figures with oars. “I don’t know if I can do this again.” He got a stony look in his eye, which I chose to ignore. “After Jamaica, I thought we had something. It almost destroyed me to find out I was wrong.”

He looked away. “It was bad timing at first.”

Ah, that explained everything. “But you never told me that.” My voice rose slightly.

An usher in a monogrammed blue polo looked at me with a stern expression and I lowered my voice to a whisper.

“You never told me it was bad timing for us. I left Jamaica with the distinct impression that we would pursue a relationship immediately after. You never told me different.”

“Yes, we lost touch for a while.” He looked at me. “But I contacted you as soon as I was able.”

I turned away from him. “Six months later.”

“Yes, six months later.” He grabbed my arm and pulled me close.

“Jamaica was wonderful but it wasn’t the beginning of anything.” I rolled my eyes and looked away.

He looked mystified. “What was it then?”

I pulled away from him, not caring who saw me. “Kael, you are full of shit.” I stalked away, escaped into the Greco-Roman room.

He stood in the center of the museum staring after me and then finally followed. He stood behind me as I pondered a statue of Hercules. “It’s not like you to make a scene.”

I whirled around. “How do you know? You don’t even know me.”

He stepped back. “So now we don’t know each other?”

This day had taken a tragic turn for the worst.

I couldn’t understand Rain’s attitude. She was so angry, so bitter. Had I really been that horrible? Yes, six months had passed before I had written her, but I did reach out. I’d poured out my heart to her in each and every letter. I asked, no begged her to wait for me, to wait for us. I promised her the freaking stars and moons if she’d just wait for me.

And she hadn’t responded. Hadn’t even had the decency to say, “Thanks but no thanks.” I wasn’t angry or bitter. Why was she?

I watched as she moved restlessly around the dimly-lit room, reading the various plaques beside white marble statues and busts illuminated by recessed lighting. She was so beautiful, especially with her hair a mass of silky, soft springy curls floating past her shoulders.

What could I possibly say to make her feel better? To fix this? She’d been the one to reject me. Shouldn’t I be the angry one? I was here, after all this time even when she’d refused to wait.

She glanced cautiously over her shoulder and looked at me, as if she wondered if I’d still be here. That was kind of insulting.

I clearly remembered last night, and she still responded to my touch. Still had feelings for me. So why the pushback?

I approached her slowly, enjoying the way her body looked in a gauzy lime dress that landed mid-thigh. When I was directly behind her, I gently tapped her on her shoulder and she jumped before turning around.

With her arms wrapped tightly around her chest and her face pinched, it was clear she was still
something
.

I exhaled. “Maybe we should leave. I don’t really see us enjoying the exhibits anymore.”

She followed me silently out of the museum.

A moment later, we were in my black Ford F-150 pickup truck. My hands were on the keys of the ignition but I couldn’t start the engine just yet.

We needed to talk. I’d imagined our reunion going several different ways, but never like this. There had to be something I could say or do to crumble the walls Rain had put up.

I turned to look at her, not sure what to say. “I have very fond memories of us, Rain. You are extremely close to destroying them.”

The taut lines of her face dissolved into slack-jawed disbelief. “Mine have already been destroyed. How do you think I felt when I realized that you were never going to call? Never going to email me or write me?”

“I did write you, Rain.”

Why was she so completely dismissing the letters I wrote her? Then it came to me. She was probably with another guy at that time. That’s the only thing that made sense.

I tried to keep the edge out of my voice. “Is this about some other guy you were dating? You could’ve told me that. You could’ve been honest with me.”

She looked at me and just laughed. And not a ha ha-funny laugh either.

That had to be it. She was dating somebody, didn’t want to tell me and just didn’t have the decency to even respond to my letter to let me know that she wanted nothing to do with me.

My hands gripped the wheel. She could’ve told me that—would’ve saved me months of wondering. I couldn’t look at her now. Now I felt stupid for even being here.

I tried to keep the heat out of my voice, but it was hard. It hurt. “I know you’ve had other relationships.”

She shrugged dismissively. “I’ve dated off and on. Nothing serious.”

She was killing me right now. Probably didn’t know, probably didn’t care. It wouldn’t hurt to spread some pain around, see if she cared anything about me.

I’d been with other women in the past two years, had coffee, lunch, dinner, drinks… Okay, I’d had a few Dom sessions with women. Suspended them by ropes, flogged their bags, paddled their asses, applied clamps to their nipples, inserted things inside of them when they begged me. But I hadn’t fucked them. Not a one. I’d get them off and then I’d service myself.

I hadn’t
been
with another woman. I’d been fucking
saving
myself for her, even if she didn’t know. Even if she didn’t care. And now that I was face to face with her…she just hadn’t cared to respond? Pain sliced through my chest and I wanted her to feel my pain.

I looked at her. “I was in a relationship when I met you.” That was not completely true. I wouldn’t call what I had with Zelie a relationship, but it was something. And if she cared anything for me, it should hurt.

A thick heavy silence enveloped us both. My eyes stung, so I looked away before he could see a tear slide down my face. But he’d said it. The awful truth. He had been cheating on his woman the whole time they’d been together.

Nausea roiled in the pit of my stomach and I wanted to bend over and ruin the floor of his shiny, brand new, new-car smelling truck. But I didn’t.

“The relationship had already come to its natural conclusion, we just hadn’t technically ended things.” His voice was flat now. I’d never heard it quite so cold before.

I kept my face turned away so he couldn’t see the tears. They wouldn’t stop flowing and if I wiped them away, he’d know I was crying. Instead, I stared out of the passenger side window.

“So, you met me, made me feel like I was the only girl in the world, and then decided that you wanted to work things out with your girlfriend? That’s why I never heard from you?”

He didn’t say anything, and I didn’t have the courage to turn and look at him. I thought my heart might burst. The pressure over my chest was immense. The lump in my throat huge. I could barely speak. The words came out in a hoarse whisper.

“I was a vacation fling, nothing more. You thought I’d actually be fine with waiting for you after you did your disappearing act. Could you be more arrogant?”

I had sunglasses in my purse. Quickly as I could, I wiped the tears from my face and put my sunglasses on.

“Don’t cheapen it, Rain. It wasn’t a fling.”

I turned to look at him then. His voice sounded harsh and his eyes turned to slate. I had no clue what he was thinking.

He turned the key in the ignition and the truck roared to life. “Where to?”

“What was her name?”

“What?”

“Your girlfriend.”

He looked forward as he expertly maneuvered out of the parking lot. “Is this really necessary?”

“Yes, actually, it is.”

“Her name is Zelie Chang. I met her in Paris three years ago. She works for her country’s French embassy.”

“Who ended the relationship?”

He turned out of the museum and onto Blue Ridge Road. “I did.”

We drove in silence for several miles. Then he looked at me, bewildered. “I explained everything to you in my letter. How could you not respond? Boyfriend or no, how could you not at least respond?”

“I tore your letter up, unopened.”

He shook his head. “And the second one?”

I just looked at him.

“And the third one?”

There was a metallic taste in my mouth. “There was only one letter,” I spit out.

“I sent you seven.” He swerved onto the shoulder of the highway and placed the truck into park. He turned to me, his eyes more intense than I’d ever seen them. “I sent you seven letters.”

I guess I looked unmoved, so he repeated himself. “Seven long-ass, handwritten letters explaining everything to you, telling you how I felt about you, how I wanted to have a future with you.”

He ran his hand through his hair. “You’re telling me that you were so heartless, or angry or bitter or whatever you were feeling, that you could tear up seven letters from me without reading even one?”

All I could do was shake my head. “You’re lying. There was only one letter.”

The image of me and Charlotte literally dancing over the burning letter in a trashcan was still vivid in my mind. The experience had been cathartic and what I needed to finally move on.

“One measly little letter from you. That was it. I never heard from you again.”

I blinked back tears. “After a while, I thought I’d dreamed you up. Only Charlotte could confirm that you were real because she’d actually seen you in Jamaica, saw the
one
letter you mailed me. She kept me strong, when I thought I would…”

I stopped then. I could not, would not let him know how hurt I’d been by his lies, how crushed I was by his disappearing act. “I was… disappointed.”

The hollow feeling that had carved a place in my chest, the irrational heat of anger, the coldness of despair, it all washed over me just then and I felt like slapping him, backhanding him, anything to make him feel my pain. My hand trembled, itched to hit something.

He seemed to read my expression correctly, a slight smile cracking the somberness of his face. “Don’t.”

He stared at me, the appearance of levity gone as quickly as it appeared. Expression unreadable, he jerked the gear stick into drive and moved back onto the highway. His jaw was set and his eyes hard. Fists clenched the wheel as he raced down the highway.

I held on to the seat arm as he accelerated. I was the one that should be pissed but he suddenly seemed very angry. “Are you okay?”

“I sent you seven letters, Rain.”

I shook my head, weary of his lies. Why wouldn’t he just stop?

He didn’t look at me as he drove. “I’ve never been able to stop thinking about you, Rain. I’ve had so many questions, like what happened? What could have been?” He exhaled loudly. “Why didn’t you respond? Why didn’t you wait for me?”

“You ask these questions like you had no say in how events were played out.” I glared at him. “I don’t understand you at all.”

“I’m flying to DC in the morning. I had hoped I would be leaving on better terms. Spend the night with me. Please.”

Did he really think he could just pick up where he left off? Like we had just left Jamaica? I hadn’t been good enough for him then. But now I was?

“Weren’t you enough of a bastard the last time?”

He gritted his teeth. “I want to do things right this time. Now is our chance.” He looked at me, his face bright with hope. “Now is the best time for us to try and make this work.”

“No.” I choked back a sob. He would not see me cry, no matter how hard he tried.

“Rain, I don’t care what’s going on in your life, or who you’re with, I want us to reclaim what we had in Jamaica and give this a try.”

“Arrogance. Arrogance fairly drips from your pores, you know that?” I pointed my finger at him. “This is precisely what happened last time.”

I pushed my sunglasses on top of my head, so he could see my eyes. I wanted him to see the pain and the anger that lived there.

“With absolutely no regard for my life, my dreams, my goals I latched on to you and all of your lies with the hope that we could have something awesome.” I stopped for a moment as tears poured down my face.

My voice was shaky, but I had to continue. He had to know what he’d done to me. I’d never had a chance to tell him. Yes, yoga and running half-marathons was therapeutic, but finally being able to yell at the guy who’d hurt you was so much better. My palm itched to slap his beautiful face.

I wanted him to hurt, hurt just like I had, like I still did, damn it. The pain was fresh and stinging as if we’d just parted.

“I screwed up my whole way of thinking, began to doubt my decisions. Changed all of my plans because of you.”

I could see the slow rising of his chest. Hadn’t he heard anything I’d said? Hadn’t anything touched him? He sat there emotionless as a block of ice, just looking at me.

“Please take me back to the coffee shop.” I’d left my car at The Coffee Grind, so Kael and I wouldn’t have to run into Charlotte and her disapproval. Or her
I told you so
, which would be deserved, considering.

“No,” he finally said in a low voice.

“No?” I said, my voice rising again. “Didn’t you hear anything I said? I don’t want to see you. I don’t want—”

He reached for me then. He actually grabbed my arm and yanked me toward him. And then his other hand went behind my head and he pressed me to him, his lips finding mine. I struggled to keep my mouth shut but the sensations flooded back. The smooth touch of skin, his masculine scent. Electricity ran up and down my spine, and I tried to recall the hurt, the pain, everything that had kept me strong since he disappeared.