Dangerous Curves, page 4
Kevin walked out of the room, now fully dressed, wearing dark trousers and a checkered shirt. He looked at her and she wished he hadn’t. He sent her a brilliant, brown gaze filled with mischief and he flashed her a knee-melting grin. “Ready to go?”
She swallowed and forced herself to stare at his face and not dip lower. She didn’t want to remember the sight of his bare chest, the shape of his legs, the size of his…“Yes, sir.”
He nodded or winked, she wasn’t quite sure what because it was fast, but she felt the impact. Warmth swept through her and she stood paralyzed a few moments as she watched him walk down the hall. It took her a moment to realize she hadn’t moved and she raced to catch up with him.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Dominique,” she said, matching his gait. His pace was slower than she’d expected it to be, he didn’t seem to be in a hurry.
“You don’t have a last name?”
“Cartw--Carter,” she said remembering her cover. She glanced at him to make sure her lie had gone over smoothly and again regretted meeting his eyes, but this time for a completely different reason. The look of mischief had disappeared, replaced with a look of such genuine interest that she stared at him for a second too long and stumbled over her own feet. She quickly caught herself and waved him off when he reach out to help her. “Don’t worry I walk better than I drive.” She paused. “No wait. I mean I drive better than I walk.” She inwardly cringed. Now she sounded like an idiot on top of looking like a klutz.
A soft smile touched his mouth. “I know what you meant.”
Damn his eyes. She couldn’t stop looking at him. At them. They kept pulling her to him. He didn’t have to be very charming with eyes like that. But she could see something else that surprised her.
She could see shadows in his eyes, as if he were in pain, but there was no visible sign of what had caused it. He didn’t limp or use a cane or have any slow, awkward movements. For a brief moment she felt a little guilty about her deception, but then thought of her sister and knew that men could be clever actors. But the shadows seemed real and they bothered her.
No, she couldn’t feel sorry for him. What she had to do was necessary. She’d find some dirt on him or find a weakness and use it and then leave. He was a player and she’d play his game.
“But are you sure?” he asked.
She glanced away, annoyed that her eyes kept being drawn to the shadows haunting his gaze. She didn’t want to care. “Am I sure about what?”
“That your name is Carter. You sounded like you hesitated, or are you just flustered?” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Was that your first live drawing class?”
Gorgeous and smart. That was going to be a problem. She kept her gaze straight ahead measuring their steps to the door. “Well, I—”
“Kevin!” a voice called.
They stopped and turned to see a woman racing down the hall. Dominique felt such gratitude for the interruption that she had to stop herself from running and giving the woman a hug.
The older woman stopped in front of them. Up close Dominique noticed the brunette wig, lack of eyebrows and the woman’s puffy, round face, but the look of delight on her face made none of that important. “I’m so glad I got you before you left. You forgot your phone.”
“Oh thanks, Elizabeth,” Kevin said, taking the cell phone and putting it away. He squeezed his eyes shut and groaned as if in pain. “I’m dying.”
“Why?”
He turned his cheek to her and tapped it. “Because I haven’t been kissed by a beautiful woman today.”
Elizabeth Kirkpatrick playfully hit him on the arm and giggled like a school girl. “You’re such a flirt.”
Kevin’s face fell and he looked as pathetic as a puppy left out in the rain. “That means you won’t kiss me?”
“If I were thirty years younger and not married—”
“You’d still be beautiful.” He glanced down and picked up something off the ground Dominique couldn’t see. “Wow, look at that. Someone dropped this,” he said, handing it to the woman. “This must be your lucky day.”
Elizabeth took the object from him, then stopped when she realized what it was. Dominique could understand the woman’s disbelief. She leaned in closer just to make sure her eyes weren’t deceiving her. When Elizabeth flipped it over she realized they weren’t. He’d given her a hundred dollar bill. Her green eyes filled with tears. “Kevin, it’s too much.”
“It’s nothing.” Kevin looked at the floor as if he were searching for something. “I wonder if I can find some more.”
She tugged on his sleeve. “No, don’t.”
He tapped his cheek again. “Can I get a kiss now?”
She kissed him, then held the money close to her chest. “This helps more than you know.”
He squeezed her arm with affection. “Tell Jed I say hi.”
She nodded, then turned and left.
Dominique watched her go, seeing Elizabeth wiping her eyes. When she turned, Kevin was halfway down the hall. She rushed to catch up with him. He didn’t walk fast, but he didn’t stand still long either. She couldn’t believe what she’d just witnessed. Was he a magician? How had he managed to make that money appear out of nowhere? She hadn’t seen him reach for his wallet and when he bent down she could have sworn there was nothing in his hand. She opened her mouth to ask him how he’d done it, but he spoke before she could.
“Yes,” he said, “it’s cancer.”
Dominique paused. She’d been so busy focusing on the money she hadn’t paid attention to the reason why he’d done it. She thought about the wig and the puffy face and the sudden tears and felt in awe of his compassion. How he’d told Elizabeth that she was beautiful and made it sound as if he meant it. “I’m sorry.”
“Treatment seems to be working, but it’s still hard.”
Dominique nodded, not sure what to say. She didn’t understand why he was sharing that with her. He spoke to her as if they were friends instead of employer and employee. She’d never seen a man of his status do that before. She was supposed to be part of the furniture—used and ignored. Maybe he was thinking aloud. She hadn’t even known him an hour and he was already confusing her. Who was this man? Seeing him as a nude model, yes that made sense. Seeing him as a man who cared for a married woman with cancer? No, that was harder to swallow. But it didn’t matter. She wouldn’t be swayed. Hadn’t Berton appeared to be one thing and then turned out to be another? Hadn’t her father taught her what men were really like? Untrustworthy, ruthless, conniving…
Her thoughts faded when Kevin rushed forward and helped a woman struggling to open the main doors to the building while she pulled a luggage cart in one hand and held two bags in another. Kevin took one of the bags and the luggage cart.
Dominique, feeling that she should do something, took the other bag from her. “Let me help you,” she said, her face reflecting in the woman’s dark glasses. The woman was petite with corkscrew twists, making Dominique feel like a wide lumbering giant standing beside her.
The woman smiled in relief. “Thank you.”
“It’s not that sunny, Nora,” Kevin said. “Are the sunglasses really necessary?”
Nora Winestone sighed. She worked for the chair of the department and had just finished a discussion about possible budget cuts. “Not now, Kevin.” She smiled at Dominique. “My car’s over there. I can take—”
“It can get dangerous if you stay longer,” Kevin said.
She frowned. “Nothing’s wrong.”
“Then let me see your face.”
She stopped and lifted up her sunglasses, revealing her brown eyes. “Feel better now?”
“The makeup looks good.” He touched the side of her face, she winced. “But not good enough.”
She set her glasses back. “I don’t need a lecture.”
“No, you need something else.”
Nora sent him a hard look, then marched to her car. She opened the trunk and smiled at Dominique as if Kevin didn’t exist. “Thanks for your help.”
“You’re welcome,” Dominique said, putting the bags inside.
Kevin put the luggage cart inside. “You know I’m here if you need me.”
Nora slammed the trunk closed. “I don’t need you,” she said, then got into her car and drove off.
Kevin watched her for a long moment, then spun on his heel and said, “I need something to drink.”
Dominique nodded, expecting him to ask her to take him to a bar or liquor store but instead he turned to one of the buildings. Moments later he stood in front of a vending machine, gulping down a can of apple juice. He finished it and crushed the can in his fist as though it were tissue paper. The sound of aluminum being violently compressed in one swift grip startled her as much as if he’d taken the can and crushed it against his forehead. She cleared her throat. “Are you okay?”
“No.” He threw the can in the garbage. “I’m angry.”
Dominique bit her lip. It wasn’t her business. She knew it wasn’t her business, she should stay out of it. But she couldn’t help herself. He intrigued her. She followed him to the car and said, “Does her husband--?”
“No, it’s her son. Eighteen and useless. There’s nothing I hate more than a man who hurts women. But women…” His words fell away and he shook his head in frustration. “Just yesterday I was with a friend who’s gotten her heart broken over a guy who promised her marriage after seducing her out of fifty thousand dollars and leaving her with a kid.”
Dominique laughed with bitterness. “That’s funny coming from you.”
“Funny?”
Damn she’d revealed too much. She shrugged hoping to appear nonchalant. “I’m sure a man like you knows something about breaking promises.”
“Me?” He shook his head. “I don’t make promises. Women always know where they stand with me.”
Was he really such a hypocrite? He could treat her sister the way he did and then say he hated men who mistreated women? Was this all for show? And why show this side to her? She was just a driver; she was surprised he was even talking to her. But his anger seemed—no, felt— genuine. And then there were those damn shadows in his eyes.
No. She had to focus. She looked down at the ground, watching her shoes pound across the asphalt. She had to block everything else out. The blue of the sky didn’t matter, the sight of Elizabeth wearing the ill-fitted wig, Nora with her dark glasses, Kevin’s impassioned speech. This impression of him was not the complete picture. There had to be a hidden side. A dark side that had hurt her sister and she’d find it.
She let out a yelp when he yanked her backwards. She turned to him, stunned.
The corner of his mouth kicked up in a grin. “You were about to walk into a car.”
She turned and saw a black Lexus she was only feet away from smacking into. She rubbed her forehead, wanting to melt into a puddle. One moment he had her tripping over her feet, the next walking into cars. She had to get a grip. “Thank you, sir,” she said straightening her back and holding her head high. She wouldn’t cower, she was his driver, she had to earn his trust. “I’m sorry. I should be more attentive.” She quickly walked to his car and opened the rear car door.
Kevin leaned against the door and studied her. “Nervous?”
Dominique glanced at a spot on the hood and rubbed her sleeve against it as if trying to clear a spot. She couldn’t look at him yet. “Nervous?”
He nodded. “About me?”
“No, sir.” She opened the car door even wider, still unable to meet his gaze, silently begging him to go in. “I know I will do a very good job.”
He sat inside. “I like a woman with confidence.”
“Yes,” she said, then closed the door and got into the driver’s seat.
“Nice to know I’m in good hands,” Kevin said as she started the ignition.
For one wild, brief, dangerous moment Dominique thought about holding him in her hands. She thought about molding him, sculpting him, tasting him. She pushed the thought aside and gripped the steering wheel. Other women had fallen for his charm and she wasn’t going to be one of them.
“I should probably fire you,” he said.
Dominique felt a chill slide through her. One moment she felt safe and the next uneasy. He could unsettle her so easily. “Why?” she asked, making sure to keep her tone neutral. She glanced at him through the rearview mirror. “What have I done?”
Kevin looked out the window, his tone bored. “Nothing, it’s just a feeling.”
Dominique searched her mind, trying to figure out where she’d gone wrong. How could he suspect anything? “I’m good at what I do. I know cars and—”
“What brought you to me?”
“The agency.” At least that sounded legitimate. She’d figure out what to do when she dropped him home. So far her deception hadn’t been revealed, Ferguson would have called him by now if it had.
“I mean, what made you want to be a driver?”
Dominique shifted lanes, wishing he’d drop the subject. Why did he have to be so chatty? Shouldn’t he be on the phone talking dirty to one of his girlfriends? “It’s a long, boring story.”
He shrugged. “I like stories.”
She had to change tactics, be a little defensive. “Do you have something against female drivers?”
He flashed a quick grin. “I’m not against female anything. No, it’s just you.”
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“What’s wrong with me?”
“I’m not sure yet, Ms. Carter. Is there anything you want to tell me?”
She resisted the urge to adjust that A/C or better yet, roll down the window and feel the air from outside. She needed something to cool her skin. She felt closed in and hot. His questions sounded innocuous, simple, but she knew they weren’t. “I need this job.”
“I like how you handle the car.”
She gripped the steering wheel, waiting for a ‘but’…
“My drivers follow strict rules,” he continued.
“Okay,” she said letting her grip relax. He was going to give her a chance.
“They work long hours.”
“Okay.”
“And must know how to be discreet.”
“I’m very discreet.”
Kevin leaned forward, resting his chin on the back of her chair. “I know,” he said, close enough that she could feel his warm breath on her neck, and smell the heady scent of his cologne. “I can always tell when a woman’s keeping secrets.”
Dominique didn’t reply and to her relief, he sat back and didn’t ask any more questions. But she knew she had to come up with a new lie fast.
“Why haven’t you returned any of my calls?” Ferguson demanded in a state of panic when Kevin got home.
Kevin pulled out his phone and saw the list of missed calls. “Sorry, I had it on silent. What’s the problem?”
“At least you’re safe and the car is safe, so that’s something.”
“Ferguson, what’s wrong?”
Ferguson took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes then shoved them back on again. “I made a mistake.”
Ferguson always rubbed his eyes when he was agitated. But lots of things could agitate him. Rain on a day he’d hoped to be sunny. A house staff member with an unironed shirt. Kevin patted him on the back in reassurance. “Calm down. What mistake?”
“It’s about the new driver.”
Kevin folded his arms and tried not to smile. Ferguson was worried for no reason. “Don’t worry, she’s fine. I like her.”
Ferguson shook his head. “That’s not it.”
Kevin let his hands fall to his hips. “What is it then?”
“She’s not a driver.”
“You’re not making sense.”
Ferguson rubbed his eyes again, but this time didn’t return his glasses to his face. Instead he collapsed the frames and used them to tap his forehead. “You have every reason to fire me after this.”
“I’m not going to fire you. Just tell me what’s going on.”
He shook his head and closed his eyes. “I should have—”
Kevin whacked him on the arm. “Pull yourself together.”
Ferguson stared at him then nodded. “You’re right.” He put his glasses back in place. “It was a busy day and a lot was going on…”
Kevin silently groaned, knowing this was going to be a long story. He sighed and headed for the living room so he could sit down. His leg was already starting to hurt and he couldn’t stand much longer. He settled into a chair as Ferguson continued his story. He’d learned to tune him out until he got to a point that mattered. He glanced at the ground and noticed a woman’s earring lying next to a table leg. The maid service was getting sloppy. He hadn’t had a party in two days; that should have been cleaned up by now.
“…After I showed her around…”
He wondered who the earring belonged to. He went through a catalogue of prospects in his mind. He’d gotten good at matching women with their jewelry.
“… and saw her leave to pick you up, the driver from the agency arrived. He apologized for being late.”
Kevin shifted his gaze from the earring to Ferguson. Now that was interesting. “She’s not from the agency?”
“No.”
Kevin nodded. “So that explains it,” he muttered to himself.
“What?”
“Never mind. Who is she?”
Ferguson gripped his hands together, his voice rising in dismay. “That’s where I messed up. To think I handed her the keys to the Bentley and—”
Kevin held up his hand. He wasn’t in the mood for one of Ferguson’s meltdowns. They didn’t happen often, but when they did they were messy. “Tell me what went wrong.”
“I didn’t get all her particulars before sending her to you. I didn’t want you waiting, so I gave her the go ahead. I thought I’d go through all the proper procedures when you got back.”
