Dangerous Curves, page 17
Women play with boys, but they marry men. Henson’s words continued to haunt him. He was a man, dammit. If only given the chance, he could have proven it to her. He would have shown her what waking up in his arms was like, he’d help her change, share a shower, feed her breakfast in bed, but that option had been stolen from him.
Soon the monster gave him no time to think. Between lying on his back or bending over a bucket, time melted into nothing. He survived in his private hell.
He didn’t know when she entered his room. He hadn’t heard her footsteps, hadn’t heard the door open or the chair move, but felt her hand on his arm. What was she doing there? She was never supposed to see him like this. Ferguson should have stopped her. When he was better, he’d wring Ferguson’s neck. Nausea rose in him, but he fought it. He wouldn’t be sick in front of her.
“I didn’t realize it was this bad,” she said softly.
Don’t be sick. You can’t be sick.
“Do you need anything?”
He couldn’t fight it. He bent over the bucket and lost the rest of his meal. “Get out,” he managed in a hoarse whisper. He remembered with heated embarrassment the first time it had happened with a woman he’d been seeing casually. He vividly recalled the disgust on her face, but fortunately she’d just thought he’d had too much to drink. After the third time he knew there was a problem, but she didn’t care to stay and hear the reason. She found someone else.
Dominique would too.
He waited to hear her footsteps, but she didn’t move. He couldn’t make her go and part of him didn’t want to. He wanted her to stay, and he liked having her by his side.
“Do you need anything?” she asked again.
“No,” he said, barely mouthing the word.
He heard pages turn and then she began to read. Ferguson must have told her because that was usually something he would do. She read softly to him and although he couldn’t focus on her words, her voice soothed him. Her presence soothed him, although it didn’t take the pain away. The voice he’d at first thought so sexy now lulled him into a state of rest. It was an elixir. The duration of his migraine didn’t seem different, but the severity seemed less…because of her.
By the following night he was able to sit up, but he didn’t leave the dark solitude of the bedroom. A different kind of pain entered his soul. One of self-loathing. How could she see him as a man when she’d helped him as if he were a helpless child? He couldn’t claim her. Any man could come—a man like Henson—and take her away. He didn’t want to need her so much, but he did. He needed her cool rational mind; she kept him grounded. He helped her be free. She’d been free in his arms, he’d felt it, knew it. He’d been her first. He wanted to be her first and last.
But that wasn’t in the cards for a man like him.
He heard the door open before he saw a shaft of light. He turned and saw a female figure silhouetted in the doorway.
“I’m glad to see you looking better,” Dominique said, coming into the room. “I’ve got good news and better news for you.”
He didn’t know how to take her tone. How could she talk to him as if he hadn’t disgraced himself in front of her? But he was used to pretending things didn’t matter so he did so now. “You can turn on the light if you want to,” he said, his voice raw and dry from lack of use.
“No, that’s okay.” He felt the bed give as she sat down beside him and his pulse quickened as he inhaled the fruity scent of her lotion. He gripped his hands together, resisting the urge to touch her. “What’s the good news?”
“I contacted a top specialist who’s willing to see you about your migraines.”
“You told someone about me?”
“Kevin, I can’t stand around and watch you suffer like this.”
“But I told you I’ve seen—”
“I know you’ve seen other doctors, but just give this a chance. I’m not willing to give up on you, so don’t give up on yourself. I’ve researched his background and he’s been able help many patients. Especially those who’ve suffered head trauma.”
Kevin sighed, although a small light of hope filled his chest. “What’s the better news?”
“Cassie’s awake.”
Chapter 40
She wailed.
Ruth sat alone in her room, a pillow pressed to her mouth, so that her sobs could not be heard, and screamed her fury, her rage and despair.
Cassie was alive! How dare she live! She was supposed to die. She wasn’t supposed to recover. There wasn’t even signs of her brain trauma, although she couldn’t remember the accident, but other than that she was back to normal. She’d be coming home and would be the mistress of the house again and Ruth would be forced back into the shadows. Cassie would take back the family that Ruth had claimed as hers. They were hers. They would have fallen apart without her. They needed her. This wasn’t right.
Drake had come home looking more handsome than she’d ever seen him and told her to get the children ready to take to the hospital.
“Are you sure that’s wise?”
“She’s awake and I know she wants to see them.” She’d never seen such joy on his face, such love shining in his eyes. It made her stomach turn.
Ruth hadn’t gone with them. She didn’t remember what lie she’d told him, but it had worked and the house was now empty and she was alone. Alone all over again.
How could God do this to her? How could he turn his back on her like this?
Cassie was supposed to die so that she could have a chance at a life she deserved. With a man she deserved. Drake cared for her. She’d just needed more time for him to know it.
Time.
She still had a chance. God always had someone do something for a miracle to happen. This was just a test of her faith. God was testing to see if she was strong enough to follow him. Would she sit idly by or take action? Faith without works is dead, she remembered that Bible verse.
Works. She had to do something. Cassie wasn’t fully healed yet; she’d still need some time to recover. No one would be surprised if she took a sudden turn for the worse, right? She would do something and then her prayers would be fully answered and glory would be hers.
Chapter 41
It took Lyle Huntley two seconds to realize he’d made a mistake. He’d talked too big to the wrong person. He’d gone to the bar for some liquid courage and had gotten too much. He should have called the family with his information. He should have told the police. He shouldn’t have been so greedy and tried to blackmail Cartwright. But it was too late to change anything now.
If you want to live to see your baby walk, you’d better forget what you just said, he remembered the warning.
Yeah, he’d forget it all right. He’d forget everything.
“Where are you going?”
He glanced at his old lady, a woman he’d thought pretty once, as she held one of their crying rug rats on her hip. The kid had snot running from his nose; she didn’t even notice. “Just outta town,” he said.
“Where?”
He continued to pack. “Just some place. If anyone comes looking for me—”
“You in trouble with the police again?”
He zipped up his bag. “Just don’t tell nobody nothing.”
She blocked his exit. “When will you be back?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’m not going to be left alone with all these kids. You’re not leaving without me.”
“I’ll be back, woman,” he said, raising his voice over his kid’s cries.
She raised hers too. “Don’t you be lying to me.”
“I’m not lying.”
“I can drop the kids at my mom’s and we can disappear together.”
It was a thought, but her mother talked too much and he didn’t have time to pack her up and all the kids. No, he was better on his own. Fresh start and all that.
“I said I’ll be back.” He pushed past her and left the bedroom, the defiant move feeling liberating. Yeah, he was free of all this. He was gonna get a new life.
He headed for the front door, kicking a toy truck out of the way. A bullet whizzed past his ear. He spun around and stared at his wife, then dropped his gaze to the gun she had pointed at his leg.
A gun her father had taught her to use for her fifteenth birthday. He could tell by her cool gaze that she’d missed on purpose. She wouldn’t miss the second time. “I said, you’re not leaving without me.”
Chapter 42
Kevin stared up at the large abstract mural that movers had hung in his entertainment lounge. Elizabeth’s artwork had finally found the right place. Initially her husband, Jed, had wanted to just give it to him, but Kevin refused and instead offered to help show him how to properly handle Elizabeth’s collection. Kevin knew the widower didn’t know how much money he was sitting on. He’d help make sure that Elizabeth’s family and her work did well.
Kevin kept his eyes on the bright colors in the mural and sat on the couch, sinking into its plush cushions. Dominique had helped him buy it, determined that he could find furniture that was designer quality and comfortable at the same time. She’d succeeded. As he looked at the yellow and orange swirls he thought about the cooling autumn temperatures outside and the colors tingeing the edges of the leaves. He usually didn’t stay at his Maryland home past summer, but now he had a reason to. It had been a month since his surgery and he was doing well. Following a full examination, the specialist Dominique had found discovered the problem others had missed. There had been a tiny fragment of bone that had become dislodged from the accident, pinching a critical nerve, causing him to experience debilitating migraines after dancing or having sex.
He’d also gone to another doctor to help realign his spine, which eased most of the pain in his leg. He was getting his life back, but for some reason that made him feel uneasy.
“Dominique sent you a delivery,” Ferguson said, coming into the room with a box. He set it in front of Kevin and pulled out a pocketknife. “May I?”
“Go ahead.”
Ferguson opened the box and pulled out two circular pillows and a note. “The couch needs pillows,” he read.
Kevin couldn’t help a smile. They’d argued about that. He felt pillows were superfluous, but she felt they were a staple. He put a pillow behind his back. He’d let her win this time.
“They look good,” Ferguson said, placing the second pillow at the other end of the couch. “She’s got an eye nearly as good as you. You’re a lucky man. Aren’t you glad I told you to keep her?”
Kevin’s eyebrows shot up. “You told me to keep her?”
“Yes, I knew when I saw her that she was good for you.”
Kevin folded his arms, watching Ferguson close the top of the now empty box. “Is that right?”
Ferguson nodded, briefly taking off his glasses to wipe his eyes before replacing them. “She fits in around here. You should have seen how late she stayed up after your last attack. Hours on her laptop doing research and after your surgery she made sure you got the best of care.”
Kevin gestured to an empty seat. “Relax, I forgive you.”
Ferguson gripped his hands together, looking unsure. “Really?”
“You know I never hold a grudge.”
Ferguson sat down, relieved. “When is she going to move in?”
Kevin felt his benevolent mood dim. “She doesn’t want to move in yet.”
“And that worries you.”
He sighed, annoyed. Ferguson was right. Dominique wouldn’t move in and she hadn’t slept with him again. Even after the surgery.
“Let’s wait another week,” she’d told him the other day when she’d halted his advances. They’d come back from dinner, shared a drink on his patio, enjoyed the warm evening, and he’d kissed her, eager to extend the night.
He took a step back and sighed. “You said that last week.”
“It’s good to be cautious,” she said, taking their two wine glasses to the kitchen. “You still need to give your body time to heal. Take it in steps. Have you gone to a club recently? Or a party?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
He couldn’t help a smile. “Because I’ve been with you.”
“Oh, right,” she said sheepishly. She set the glasses in the sink. “Well, don’t let me stop you. If you want to go, that’s fine with me.”
He stared at her stunned and hopeful. “You’d go to a club with me?”
She shook her head. “No, but you could go to find out if—”
“I already know I’m fine.”
She rested her hip against the counter. “When are you going to see Cassie?”
He stiffened, not understanding the change in topic. “Why are you bringing her up?”
“Why are you avoiding the question?”
He glanced around the kitchen, his thoughts racing. He hadn’t seen Cassie since she’d been released from the hospital. He’d used his doctor visits, pre-operative preparations, surgery and then his post operative recovery as a reason not to see her. “I’ll see her soon.”
“Are you sure you’re over her?”
He met Dominique’s gaze. “Is that why you won’t sleep with me again?”
“No.”
He took a step towards her. “Do you think she’s a ghost between us?”
“Is she?”
He took another step closer. “No.”
“I know there’s still a lot to figure out, but no one can blame you for the accident anymore and the lawsuit has been settled.”
He closed the distance between them and tenderly touched her cheek. “I know that,” he said, although he’d been surprised Cartwright Cars had done so. It was clear they didn’t want anything more to do with him.
“The truth is that you haven’t been yourself since your surgery.”
His hand fell. “I haven’t?”
“No. You’re not the Kevin people know. Or the one I first met. You don’t go to parties or clubs like you used to. You don’t even throw your own parties or talk about them. You spend most of your time with me. And while I enjoy it, I know that’s not who you are.”
Kevin stared at her for a long moment, not sure how to process what she was saying. He felt both stunned and dismayed. He’d changed and he hadn’t even realized it. But oddly that didn’t bother him.
What bothered him was that Dominique still saw him as a party boy. She expected him to chase his worries away with a drink and women as he had in the past. But that wasn’t who he was anymore. Do you know why I haven’t gone to a party for awhile? He wanted to tell her. Because I don’t want to. Because they bore me now. Because I’d rather spend time with you. Because I like being me. I like not having to make people laugh and feel good all the time.
He thought about the conversation they’d had that night as he stared up at Elizabeth’s painting. Maybe there were other reasons Dominique wanted her own space, why she didn’t want to sleep with him again. Perhaps she didn’t like the new Kevin and found the old one more exciting. He couldn’t blame her, since the last several weeks she’d been something of a nursemaid.
He’d never given her the opportunity to know what it was like to be on his arm at a gala. To mingle at a gallery and walk him around like a trophy? Other women had, and maybe Dominique wanted that too.
Or maybe he was trying to hold onto something that wasn’t meant to be.
“You once told me that she needs you,” Ferguson said as if reading his thoughts.
Kevin plastered on a smile, not liking to be in a low mood for too long. “I’m not sure I know women as much as I thought.”
“Dominique isn’t like other women.”
“I know.”
“She’s good for you, but you’re also good for her.”
Kevin started to smile for real, catching the mischievous glint in Ferguson’s eyes. “What are you suggesting?”
He pulled out an invitation from his inside jacket pocket. “That you raise the stakes.”
Chapter 43
“But I told you I don’t do parties,” Dominique said with a note of panic. She stared down at the elegant wedding invitation Kevin had waved in front of her. She’d expected their relationship to take a new direction, but she hadn’t expected this. Although Clay had warned her.
She’d been meeting with him secretly since she knew that Kevin didn’t want to investigate the accident any further. They hadn’t gotten far. She’d learned that her father’s rival, Reginald Avery, had turned up in Mexico—alive and living with his daughter. The police had no interest in an accident that had been settled. But she was patient and that was something she and Clay shared.
“Be careful of Jackson,” Clay said. They both sat in his office at Hodder Investigation, trying to ignore the man screaming obscenities at his girlfriend in the parking lot.
“Careful?” Dominique said.
The girlfriend started shouting at the man. Her language was even more colorful.
“He’s not—” Clay paused when they both heard a slap. The woman screamed and shouted at the man. Clay slowly rose to his feet. “Excuse me,” he said, then left.
Moments later the voices became silent and Clay returned to his office. “Sorry about that.”
Dominique glanced out the window. “What did you say to them?”
He sent her a significant look. “Usually when I show up, I don’t have to say anything.”
She grinned. “I wish I could do that.”
“I’m sure you can. Now about Kevin.”
“Are you warning me off him?”
He picked up a pen. “I know I’m older than you, but do I look like your bleeding Dad?”
No, you’re nicer and better looking, she thought, but decided to keep that to herself. “No, what do you have to say?”
“I’m offering you a little advice. He’s not what he seems.”
