Dangerous Curves (19 page)

S
he 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.

I
t 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.”

K
evin 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.”

“
B
ut 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.”

A grin touched her lips. “I thought you said he's a lazy, callous—”

“But we both know that he's not. Why hasn't he seen Cassie?”

I don't know!
“He's been busy recovering from the surgery,” she said, although she'd never shared what the surgery had been for.

“Hmm.”

“Should I tell him about us?”

Clay tapped the pen against his desk. “Not if you're going to phrase it like that.”

“Oh,” Dominique said chagrined, realizing the innuendo. “You're right.”

“I'll talk to him eventually, don't worry about it. Just be prepared for surprises,” he said.

And Kevin had now given her one. After fending him off after dinner the other day, she'd berated herself for holding herself back, but she was nervous. Nervous that Kevin would get tired of their routine. Get tired of her. But she thought he may want to go to his other residence or talk of traveling to the islands, not this.

They sat in her apartment on a Saturday afternoon after spending time at an outdoor music fest a friend of his had helped put together. She'd enjoyed herself, but then he'd shocked her—and made most of the women swoon—when he'd jumped on stage with one of the acts and played the piano with a sensual confidence that still had her feeling warm. His hands moved over the keys with the dexterity of a true maestro. While other women could only imagine what else his hands could do, she knew.

She also knew that if she slept with him again and he decided that he didn't want to stay with her, she'd be more than broken-hearted. She wanted to be careful and make sure that he knew she wouldn't tie him down. Seeing him on the stage reminded her of his old self and she'd expected to see more of it. But not like this.

“You'll be fine,” Kevin said.

She shook her head. “No, I won't.”

“I need a date.”

“You never need a date. You walk into a room and a woman appears by your side.”

Kevin couldn't help a grin. “You're right, but I need a date for this.”

“Get a stand-in.” She pressed her hands together. “Just this once, I won't mind. I promise.”

“I can't use a stand-in to meet my family.”

Her mouth dropped open. “This is a family affair?”

“It's my cousin's wedding.”

Dominique bit her lip in consideration.
His family?
This was a big step. He wanted to move their relationship forward and she didn't want to stop him. “Maybe I could just go to the reception near the end when half of the guests are so drunk no one will remember anything.”

Kevin rested his arm behind her head, turning his body fully to her. “Nothing will happen.”

“Did I tell you about the time—”

He dropped his arm to her shoulders. “I don't care.”

“Isn't this too soon? You just had surgery—”

He placed a series of kisses along her jawbone. “And you won't let me show you that I'm okay.”

“You may be okay, but I'm not.”

He drew back and looked at her, his dark, observant eyes holding her still. “Why not?”

She swallowed. She shouldn't have said that. “Never mind. I didn't mean it.”

“Yes, you did.” He narrowed his eyes a fraction. “Is there someone else?”

“Of course not!” she said, surprised by his question and the sudden look of relief on his face. “It's just…I'm a coward. You were so sick after we…” She looked down at her hands, feeling embarrassed. “I mean I really liked…” She licked her lower lip as if remembering a delicious dessert. “It was so good you could turn me into an addict.”

“Then let me be your drug,” he said in a silky voice.

“But you suffered and…”

He sighed heavily. “What happened wasn't your fault.”

“I know that intellectually, but in the back of my mind I'd feel like I was using you if—”

He kissed her, then breathed, “Use me. Use me like a tool. Ride me like a stallion. Take me like—”

Dominique pushed him back, a laugh escaping her. “You're incredible.”

He looked down at her hand as it rested on his chest. “I know.”

She snatched her hand away. “You rush into things without thinking about the consequences.”

He took her hand and put it back where she'd put it. “And you think too much.”

Dominique sighed. She'd have to face his family sometime and they had to move past this block. “Let's compromise.”

“I'm listening.”

“If you're okay after the wedding, we can be together.”

Kevin shook his head. “I want you to be specific.”

“Specific?” Her voice cracked.

He covered her hand with his. “I think that it's important that we understand each other.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I want to make sure.” He held up his other hand. “And no biblical terms. I don't want to ‘know you' or ‘come unto you.'"

Humor lit her face. “What does a devil like you know about being biblical?”

A wicked grin touched his mouth. He lifted her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist. “More than you know.”

Her skin tingled where his lips had touched her skin. She wouldn't fight him anymore. “If you're fine after the wedding, I'll sleep with you. Is that clear enough?”

“Sleep,” he said, drawing out the word. “You know there's another word that begins with ‘s' and it's much shorter and to the point.” He kissed the center of her palm. “Are you afraid to say it?”

“Yes, but I'm not afraid to do it.”

He closed his eyes and rested his head back with joy. “You know just what to say to make me happy.” He sat up and looked at her. “You have a deal.”

“Good,” she said with a chuckle, trying to tug her hand free.

He held on. “But we do have one problem.”

She paused. “What?”

“What you'll wear.”

Dominique jumped to her feet. “That's not problem. I have that dress—”

Kevin released her hand and frowned. “I told you to burn it.”

She looked at him, surprised. “You weren't joking?”

He stood. “No, let me show you what a real dress looks like.”

K
evin looked
at the array of dresses. He'd invited an upcoming designer, Sasha Crow, to bring over her latest collection to his house.

“You call this your best?” Kevin said in a bored voice when the fourth model left the room to change.

“It was short notice,” Sasha said, nervously fingering a wooden pin that held up her abundance of dyed red hair. Dominique wondered if it was too much rouge or embarrassment that made the young woman's cheeks red.

Kevin blinked. “So I should have called someone else?”

Sasha looked alarmed for a moment. “Wait just a second.” She whispered something to her assistant, a tall women who wore round-rimmed purple glasses. The assistant nodded and disappeared with one of the models.

“You're going to like this,” Sasha assured him with a smile.

Kevin didn't return it. “Is that a promise?”

Her smile wavered but held. “I'll go see what's keeping them.” She left.

Dominique leaned towards him. “Why are you giving her a hard time?”

“I'm not giving her a hard time, I'm giving her a chance.”

“The dresses all look good to me.”

“That's because you're style blind.”

“I am not.”

Kevin nodded to a selection of five dresses hanging on mannequins. “Choose a dress and I'll tell you what's wrong with it.”

She pointed to a grey gown. “That.”

“Made for a woman with less curves.” He gestured to a red one. “That one is made for a woman with no cleavage. You always want clothes that compliment your best features.”

“I was taught to hide my flaws.”

“That's fine as long as you don't confuse your flaws with your assets.”

Sasha returned with a model wearing a dark blue gown with crystal trim.

Kevin stood up. “Yes, much better.” He turned to Dominique. “What do you think?” He held up his hand and shook his head when she opened her mouth. “Never mind, I know what you think. We'll take it.”