Dangerous Curves (17 page)

“
I
heard
Avery's gone missing.”

“You sound worried,” the voice on the phone said.

Abraham rubbed his hand on his lap. He sat in the living room where a six-foot indoor palm cast shadows on the marble floors. It wasn't like him to get sweaty palms. “No, just wondering.”

“He's just an example of what happens when people get scared. He has nothing to do with us.”

Abraham licked his lip, he didn't dare ask if they had anything to do with the disappearance. “I see.”

“I hope you do. Settle with Jackson.” The line disconnected.

Abraham put down the phone and wiped his forehead. He was getting tired of this.

“Worried, darling?”

He looked up and saw his wife coming from the pool, her bikini bottom covered by a towel. “No.”

She took the corner of her towel and dabbed at his forehead. “You look a little hot, maybe you need to cool off.”

“I'm fine.”

“Or tell me what's going on.” She sat on the arm of his chair. “Maybe it's your conscience that's burning you.”

He rested a hand on her thigh and let it slowly inch up. “You keep making that mistake.”

“Mistake?”

He watched his hand disappear further beneath the towel. “Thinking I have one.”

“I know you do, especially when it comes to Dominique. Did you lose your hold on her?”

He paused and met her gaze. “Don't sound so smug. I don't believe you've heard from her in a while.”

“You don't know that.”

“Why isn't she home yet?”

“She's making plans.”

He slid his hand further. “You don't know her plans.”

“Neither do you.” She crossed her legs, trapping his hand in between her thighs. “Do you want me to find out?”

“What do you want in return?”

“Make sure she doesn't get hurt.”

He wiggled his fingers. “Is that all?”

She bent forward, pressing his hand closer to her warm center. “For now.”

E
ric walked
into his brother's main office and swore. Although the window was open, the smell of cigarettes hung in the air. Drake stood by the window, taking a long drag. The fact that his brother was no longer hiding his habit wasn't a good sign.

“I know you don't like Marcus spending time with Jackson, but it doesn't mean you have to smoke like a chimney.”

“Her parents came to see me,” Drake said.

Eric opened another window. Since they didn't share this office, he couldn't complain. The room was well ventilated. “About what?” It wasn't like Cassie's parents to have much to do with them.

Drake kept his gaze focused outside the window. “They're thinking of fighting me.”

Eric took a seat. “Fighting you for what?”

“About whether Cassie stays in the hospital or is taken to a nursing home.”

Eric stilled. “What do you want to do?”

“I'm doing it. I'm not moving her.”

“Is that what Cassie would want?”

He spun around. “Did you talk to her mother or something?”

“No, I just—”

He stubbed out his cigarette in the blackened ashtray on his desk. “It's too soon.”

“You'll have to face it.”

“I'm facing it.”

“This is not the life they want for their daughter, but her mother was always about appearances so I don't take her words too seriously. I wonder if she's more concerned about her reputation than Cassie's life.”

Eric took off his glasses and cleaned them with a cloth. “I doubt it's that simple. Did Cassie ever talk about a moment like this?”

Drake reached for another cigarette. Eric snatched it away. Drake glared at him. “Don't you lecture me now.”

Eric met his brother's unflinching stare, unafraid. “I asked you a question. Did she ever talk about being in a coma?”

“Yes.”

“And what did she say?”

Drake turned back to the window.

Eric knew by his brother's silence what the answer was. Cassie wouldn't want to live like this. He stared down at the cigarette carton in his hand, feeling the weight of the painful choice that faced them.

Drake didn't tell him how every evening he listened to the sound of Cassie's hospital machines as he held her hand. He'd stopped talking to her, because for the last few days he'd been unable to do so without his voice cracking. He'd spoken to the doctors about his options. She'd already recovered from a disease of the lungs and hospitals could be dangerous for those who had to stay there too long because of infections.

He didn't tell his brother how he dreamed about her waking up. How much he wanted to see her brown eyes staring back at him.

After a long moment, Drake said, “You think I'm selfish, don't you?”

“No.”

“She's alive to me, I touch her skin and it's warm, my wife is there. If I didn't think so I'd let her go.”

Eric nodded, not sure if he believed him. How much was real and how much did his brother want to be real? The doctors had been worried that she hadn't recovered as quickly as they had hoped.

“I haven't had her long enough,” his voice was soft, but Eric heard the anguish in his voice. “I can't lose her now,” he said. “But if…”

Eric nodded again, hearing the finality of the decision Drake had to—would make. He pulled one cigarette from the carton and held it out to him, as a silent goodbye. “Let this be your last.”

D
ead ends
. That's all they kept running into. It had been a week since Dominique and Kevin had spoken to Clay.

“You don't really mean that,” she'd said to Kevin after Clay had left with Marcus.

“Mean what?”

“That we should stop. You were just trying to provoke him.”

“No, I wasn't. I meant every word I said. Sometimes it's better not to know.”

“I think it's always important to know the facts.”

He stared at her for a long moment then rose to his feet. “I believed that once.” He walked out of the room.

Dominique briefly hung her head and closed her eyes. She didn't want to press him, but he was forcing her to. She took a deep breath and followed him into the hallway. He wasn't there. She searched the house and finally found him sitting in his breakfast nook, staring out the landscape window. She pulled out a chair and sat. “What happened?”

“Life taught me a lesson,” he said, watching a squirrel scurry across the lawn. He sent her a hooded glance. “Ever wondered why I never talk about my mother?”

She hadn't wanted to pry. He'd spoken a lot about his workaholic father and uncle, but never his mother. “Yes.”

“I didn't know her growing up. She left the family when I was three. After my father died, my uncle raised me. My two older sisters and I went to the best boarding schools and I hated every minute of it.” He sighed. “Unlike my sisters, who loved them and flourished. They were more like my father in that sense, they liked discipline, order and academics. I loved them and my uncle, but felt different. I thought I was more like my mother. I asked lots of questions about her and my uncle would tell me how beautiful and glamorous she was. How smart and witty. By age twenty-three she was a goddess in my mind and although she'd abandoned us I wanted to know her.

“My uncle warned me. My sisters did too. They told me that there was more to the story than Uncle wanted us to know. They said I should leave it alone. But I wouldn't. I wanted to find her and get to know her. I felt as if a part of me was missing without her being in my life. So I searched and I finally found her.” He bit his lip and returned his gaze to the window. “I convinced one of my sisters to go see her with me. I was so nervous. I don't think I slept that night.

“When I met her…She was everything my uncle said she was. Beautiful, witty and she hated me. No, I'm not exaggerating. She barely looked at me the entire time while she beamed at my sister. She looked at me with a disgust in her gaze. I later learned why.” He swallowed. “If I hadn't come along she would have stayed with my father. She hated boys. She tried to smother me when I was six months old.”

“Then she's mentally ill,” Dominique said horrified by the story. “And it's not your fault she left. She used you as an excuse. She's manipulative and rotten.”

“She's Irene Hayward.”

“
The
Irene Hayward?” Dominique said, referring to the noted international black philanthropist beloved by millions.

Kevin nodded. “Yes. And my uncle and sisters were right. It would have been better not knowing.”

Dominique reached over and gripped his hand. “But didn't the wondering hurt too?”

He shook his head. “Not this much.”

Dominique sighed. “I can't let it go, but I won't force you to go down this road with me.”

“Are you truly ready to face who your father is? Who he possibly could be?”

Dominique took a deep breath. “Yes.”

But now, as she sat with Kevin in an Italian restaurant, she felt her determination waning. What if she never found out the truth? What if her father could outwit her? She knew it strained their relationship, although Kevin wouldn't admit it. So to take his mind off things, she'd decided to teach him the pleasures of ‘outercourse.' He took to it faster than she could have imagined and showed his pleasure by giving her a beautiful bracelet he wouldn't let her refuse.

She looked at that bracelet now, remembering his words,
Whenever you look at this, think of me.
His words were meant to comfort her, but she couldn't help but think of her sister's betrayal.

“Kevin?” a female voice asked.

They both looked up and saw a striking black woman wearing a chic black and white ensemble approaching the table. She kissed Kevin on the cheek. “It's been too long.”

“You're looking fabulous as always,” he said, pulling out an extra chair.

The woman sat down and winked at him. “Of course.”

His cell phone rang. He looked at it and frowned.

“Business meeting?” Dominique guessed.

He grinned at her insight. “Yes, and they want to talk. Excuse me,” he said, then left.

The woman followed him with her eyes and gave a low moan of appreciation. “He's just as gorgeous from behind. ” She looked at Dominique. “Was I interrupting anything?”

Dominique waved her hand. “No, we were just—”

The woman's eyes widened and she grabbed Dominique's wrist. “Wait. Oh my God. How did you get one?” she said looking at the bracelet as if she were a bear and the bracelet a hive full of honey.

“Kevin gave it to me.”

The woman stared at her. “Kevin bought you a Sandstone?” Her voice fell away and she abruptly let Dominique's wrist go. “He told me he never spends more than five thousand on a woman, cheap bastard,” she said with affection. “He makes money like Midas. Everything he touches turns to gold. Bet you didn't know that he co-owns an organic makeup company and helped his sister turn it into an international powerhouse. Don't worry, you wouldn't know, I do because a friend of mind is a friend of hers.”

Dominique didn't know how to respond. She hadn't known the bracelet was a Sandstone, but recognized the name of the world-renowned jewelry designer. Her mother loved his unique designs and they started at a price point twenty times what she thought it had been.

The woman leaned forward. “How did you do it?”

“Do it?”

“Get him to spend this much? Did you get a place too? I have a girlfriend who got a gorgeous little condo from one guy.”

“No, we're—”

The woman's eyes widened. “We're? You're a couple? You two are…together?”

“Well we…”

“You are!” Her face split into a wide grin. “You lucky woman. He's one of the best lovers I've ever had. You must be holding onto him tight.”

Dominique just smiled.

“Does he still do that thing?”

Dominique frowned. “Thing?”

She wiggled her forefinger. “You know that ‘thing' that makes you go to the moon and back.”

To Dominique's relief, Kevin returned to the table. “What are you two talking about? I hope it's about me.”

“Of course,” the woman said. “But she's keeping me in suspense.” The woman pressed two fingers on her lips. “Even though there are few secrets between us, right?” she said pressing those same fingers to his mouth.

“Hmm.”

She lifted a brow at Dominique. “I don't know why you're being so coy, a night with Kevin is something to sing about.”

“I don't sing,” Dominique said, feeling Kevin tense beside her.

“Honey, I don't sing either, but one night with him and I was—”

“It was great seeing you,” Kevin said, “but we have to go.” He motioned to the waiter.

“Pity. We'll talk later.” She kissed Kevin, then winked at Dominique. “Happy memories.”

Once she was out of hearing, Dominique held up her wrist. “Twenty-two thousand?”

He shrugged, sending the waiter away with an apology. “It was either that or a cheap car. I thought this was better.” He lowered his voice to a husky whisper. “I have a budget.”

“We haven't even been dating that long. You can't spend money like that this early in a relationship. You should have told me that you were buying me this.”

“Would it have made a difference?”

“Yes.”

“Why? It's a damn consolation prize.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

Kevin glanced at the door where the woman had exited then shook his head . “I can't do this.”

“Her words don't bother me,” she said, noticing the tightness of his jaw and guessing his train of thought.

“They bother me. I'm being unfair to you. Selfish.”

“No, you're not. I like being with you. How many times do I have to tell you that?”

He pinned her with a dark glance. “It's not enough.”

“Of course it is.”

He folded his arms on the table. “She's not the only one.” He held her gaze. “Are you sure you can take my past?”

“Not if you keep reminding me.”

His gaze heated. “If you only knew what I really wanted to do with you.”

She kicked him under the table, feeling her face burn. “Stop it.”

He ignored her. “But I can't even slee—”

She covered his mouth with her hand and looked around. “Be quiet, do you want someone to overhear you?”

He removed her hand. “Maybe public humiliation would hurt less. Don't pretend what she said didn't bother you.”

“I'm fine.”

“There are women out there who know a lot more about me than you do.”

Dominique shoved back her chair. “If you're going to keep rubbing it in, I'm leaving.”

“I'm not rubbing it in, I'm making you face who I am. I know you're curious how it would be with me.”

“Yes, but I don't need that from you. I actually like that we just…get to know each other. That we get to talk. Does that make me weird? A freak? Because I like being in your presence. It is enough. You don't have to do anything to make me like you more.”

He nodded at her impassioned speech. “Okay, I understand. Unfortunately, I want to do more.” His voice deepened to a growl as his gaze caressed her body. “A lot more.”

Dominique toyed with the buttons of her blouse, feeling suddenly warm. “I'm happy as it is.”

He rested his hand on his fist and looked away. “I'm trying to believe you.”

“Or maybe I'm not enough.”

He turned to her. “What?”

“Be honest. If you…were your old self we wouldn't be together. We'd have one fun night and nothing else. Maybe that's what's frustrating you. The thought of being tied down.”

Kevin looked at her for a long moment. She understood him better than he thought. She was right. If he'd been the man he'd been months before they wouldn't be here like this. But he'd grown tired of the conquests; he'd been intimate with many women, but never like this.

He'd never been this naked with a woman before. That's what bothered him: he felt exposed, vulnerable. He saw her deep brown eyes and saw the hesitation there, as if she expected him to hurt her. He squeezed her hand. “That's not it. I'm frustrated for a very basic primitive reason. Ever hear of lust?”

“I'm not saying I don't want it too, but I'm willing to wait until you're better.” She rested a hand on his thigh. “I really did enjoy the time we spent together the other night.”

He couldn't help a smile, remembering the moment. It was a first for him, he'd never been intimate with a woman that way—uncovering ways to use his hands and mouth that he'd never thought possible, but he quickly mastered it. “I aim to please.”

“Didn't I please you too?” she teased.

Kevin rested his chin in his hand and looked up at the ceiling.

“You have to think about it?” she said, stunned.

“I'm not thinking, I'm reliving.” He closed his eyes and moaned. “Yes, I liked when you did that…oh yes, and that was even better.”

She laughed.

Kevin opened his eyes and grinned. He loved the sound of her laughter. And that wasn't the only thing he loved.

His grin faded. No, he wasn't supposed to fall in love with her. They were just having fun. It wasn't serious. She wasn't taking him seriously, but no woman did. If he wasn't careful he'd get his heart broken again. Cassie hadn't taken him seriously either. He'd thought Dominique was different, but she saw him the same way. Just the fun-loving guy to fill up the time until she found the man she wanted to settle down with.

He was never that man. He'd never minded being referred to as a playboy before. But now it bothered him. He wanted to be seen as a catch. He wanted Dominique to miss him. To not just worry about him, but to really care about him. He wanted her to love him, not in the way most women did, they told him they loved him all the time, but it wasn't romantic or long lasting.

This wasn't a real relationship. Part of it was pity. When a man she could really be with came along, she'd leave him. If not that, she'd find out what her father was hiding and then disappear. She wouldn't turn to him. She'd blame him, even if she didn't want to. She'd blame him because his accident had forced her to uncover the truth, whatever it was.

He should break it off with her. But he wouldn't. He was going to keep her close a little while longer. He'd make up for his lack with trips and jewelry and whatever else he could offer. He wasn't a saint. He could be a greedy bastard and that's what he would be. Then he got another phone call that shattered his heart.