Dangerous Curves (3 page)

Dominique could only nod, feeling the anger in her heart grow. He'd made her cry, that's what bothered her the most.

“What are you going to do now?”

“I'm going to take a break for a while.”

“That's good. Let your father feel how hard it is without you, then go back.”

Dominique shook her head. “I'm not going back.”

“You have to if you plan to run the company one day.”

“I don't care about it anymore.”

Carla's voice hardened. “I didn't raise you to be a quitter. You have time on your side. You just have to be patient. Your father won't live forever and that business is ours. We let him think he owns the kingdom, but we're the key to its survival.”

Dominique sighed. That story had been told to her all of her life, but now the dream felt empty.

“It's been an upsetting day for you,” Carla said in an indulgent tone. “You need to relax.” She clapped her hands together and smiled. “Let's go to Portugal and—”

Dominique opened her mouth to protest. She wanted to be alone to think things through. It wasn't like her to make rash decisions and she knew there would be a consequence. But instead of telling her mother this, the phone rang. Her mother picked up, then swore. She nodded in response to the voice on the other end. “Yes, yes. Okay, good. We'll be right there.” She hung up.

Dominique leaned forward, concerned. “What is it?”

“It's your sister. She's in the hospital.”

R
evenge
.
That's the word that whispered in her ear as she looked at her sister, who lay pale-faced and weak in her bed after attempting to overdose on painkillers. Yes…Dominique wanted revenge. Revenge against men who thought that their power meant they could get away with anything. Revenge against men who lied and cheated and broke promises. Revenge against a patriarchal system that rewarded them.

She'd never tell anyone how she'd cried that night after finding out the truth about Berton—more from humiliation than heartbreak. She'd gone through a carton of ice cream and deleted all of his images and messages from her phone, angered by all the wasted hours. She'd played it cool with her mother, but inside she burned. She hated men. They were liars and losers, heartbreakers and cowards. She didn't need them and never would.

Her father saw a dutiful daughter to clean up his messes, her boyfriend saw her as something to get his leg over while he tried to climb the corporate ladder.

Revenge would be sweet and she was strong enough to fight and patient enough to get it. There was nothing she could do to Berton or her father, but she could make Kevin Jackson pay for what he had done to her sister. Although she was only four years older, Dominique felt as if many more years separated them.

Her mind still buzzed with rage at the story her sister had told them. It had been reckless of her sister to go to Kevin Jackson to try to persuade him to drop the lawsuit, but Gloria didn't always think things through. She could be flighty, but she had a good heart.

Initially Kevin had promised he would listen, but instead he'd seduced her, convincing her that their relationship was something real, toying with her heart until he captured it before tossing her aside and continuing with the suit anyway. She'd never seen her sister fall so hard for someone. Gloria had always had crushes and there were plenty of men in line to adore her. She had their mother's trim figure and complexion and their father's impeccable taste in clothes. She wore her hair in intricate braids that passed her shoulders. Dominique hadn't even known her sister was in a serious relationship until now.

Gloria wasn't one to settle down. At twenty-seven, she always said she wasn't ready. But somehow Kevin Jackson had convinced her to keep their relationship a secret and had broken her heart in the process. He'd used her little sister and she wouldn't let him get away with that. Her plan wasn't clear yet, but she needed to take action. She would not let her sister be a victim to a heartless playboy. She'd make sure his playing days were over.

A
braham Cartwright smiled
as he glanced out the car window while his driver made his way through the DC traffic. He was so pleased by the phone call he'd just received that he started whistling a song his grandfather used to sing when he was working on an engine. He saw a tour bus stop and unload a group of tourists dressed for summer instead of spring, and watched a pigeon swoop down and grab a potato chip someone had dropped on the sidewalk. With Dominique on board, things would be okay. She was his secret weapon, even though he'd never let her know that. She wasn't an arrogant woman, but he didn't want her to know how much he depended on her. She was smart. Smarter than him in many ways, but not about people. He always had her in the dark and that's where he planned to keep her.

He pulled out his phone and dialed. “Good job,” he said when the other line connected. “Everything's set. She's out for revenge.”

Berton laughed a little uneasy. “I feel sorry for Jackson then.”

Abraham paused. “You sound a little sorry for her.”

“You didn't see her face. It was…I didn't think I'd feel so bad.”

“Get over it. She will. She always has.”

“But—”

“But what?” Abraham said in a sharp tone. He didn't take well to people challenging him. “Are you questioning my strategy?”

“It's nothing,” Berton said, stumbling over his words. “I wasn't sure it would work.”

“I told you how to leave enough clues to make sure she followed your crumbs. You made sure you got caught, right?”

“Yes, even though I thought it was a bit extreme to—”

“Nothing's too extreme when it comes to my daughter. I know how women think. Especially her. She thinks she's her own woman, but she's been dancing to my tune a long time.”

“It's still a risk. Kevin Jackson's got a reputation with the ladies.”

“Exactly the kind of reputation Dominique can't stand. I raised her. I know her weaknesses, I made sure she had them. There's a reason you'd think she was born with her legs glued shut. No man's gotten close and no man will. Trust me, Kevin Jackson will not be a problem.”

“And you think Dominique can make sure he's not dangerous to us?”

“If Dominique does exactly what I expect her to do, I can guarantee it.”

C
arla Cartwright sat
at the oak dinner table, the scent of lemon drizzled asparagus scenting the air. It was a smaller room than their second dining room meant to host guests. She looked at her husband with shrewd interest rather than affection. He was still a handsome man; many women thought so. She'd transformed him from a lowly laborer to a respected business owner. At times, she knew she needed to remind him where he truly belonged. Dominique should have been promoted; it had been their agreement. He didn't look concerned and that bothered her. When he wasn't uneasy, he was dangerous. She traced her finger along the base of her wine glass, keeping her gaze on his face. “What are you up to?”

“Why should I be up to anything?” he asked, sawing through his steak like a lumberjack.

Carla pursed her lips in distaste. The meat had been baked to perfection, but her husband had yet to develop the swift clean motion necessary to cut and enjoy it. Instead he attacked it with his utensils as if it were still alive. She held out her hand. He wisely handed her his plate.

“Don't play coy with me,” she said, expertly slicing through the meat and creating edible morsels. “Dominique should have gotten the position.”

“I didn't want to look like I was playing favorites.”

“When has that ever bothered you before?”

“I have something better in store for her.”

Carla handed him the plate, unable to stop a smile. “My god, you even look good when you lie.”

He looked at her surprised. “Why would you think I'm lying?”

“Because I've lived with you long enough.” His business and drive had been his mistress their entire marriage. “Just understand one thing.”

“What is that?”

“If you break my daughter's heart, I will destroy you.”

“Does she have a heart to break?”

Carla took a sip of wine. “What does that mean?”

“Now who's being coy?”

“Dominique is a very good daughter.”

“Yes, you raised her well. I love you my darling, but we both know I could get more heat from an icebox. And any man who tries to get close to Dominique will find out the same.”

Carla straightened her knife and glanced at her manicure. “Don't talk as if I raised her alone,” she said softly before lifting her gaze to his.

“No. We both used her for our purposes.” He winked at her. “You used her to get me.”

She touched his leg with her foot. “It was an accident.”

“A very convenient one.”

She couldn't help a light laugh. “You did the right thing by marrying me. Fate is a funny thing.”

His eyes darkened when she placed her foot on his lap. “Yes, but you can't replicate it. Dominique isn't like you.”

Carla met his heated gaze, knowing tonight they'd share a bed, but not secrets, but she still couldn't help her question. “What are you up to?”

He rested his hand on her foot, cupping her heel in his hand. “Patience, my dear. The fun has just begun.”

D
ominique still didn't have
a definite plan of action as she drove past the private lake and row of trees on Kevin Jackson's Maryland estate. She would initially play it by ear and get to know him a little first before she enacted a solid plan. She'd done some research online, but most of the information she found was positive, along with the many pictures of him. She parked and was halfway to the front door when it opened.

“It's about time you got here,” a man with slicked back, black hair said. “I wasn't sure what I was going to do.” He glanced at his watch. “There's still enough time for me to give you the particulars before you start. I'm Ferguson, by the way.”

Dominique stared at the man and waved her hands, knowing he'd mistaken her for someone else. Although she'd arrived at Kevin Jackson's without a plan, she knew this wasn't it. “No, wait, I—”

“You can ask questions later. Follow me,” he said, walking past her.

“But—” She stopped. He was already around the corner and out of hearing. She reluctantly followed him.

“I was afraid it was going to rain today,” he said, obviously continuing a conversation he thought she'd been part of. “But we got lucky.” He stopped in a courtyard bracketed by two three-car garages. “You drive stick of course? Of course you do,” he said, shaking his head. “The agency knows what we like. It's just that the last driver lied. Nearly burned the clutch to the ground.” He headed up a set of stairs that led to a walk-up above one garage. “You'll be staying here.” He opened the door. “As you can see, it has everything you need.” He headed back down the stairs and pushed a button, slowly revealing a Bentley. “You'll pick him up at the university today. The car will lead you.”

A chauffeur? She was being hired as a driver? “I'm sorry, but—”

“I know I haven't given you a chance to change into your uniform, but it's been a busy day. Okay, that's a lie. It's always busy around here. Jackson's a man who likes to keep active, but he's also informal so he won't mind you showing up as you are.” He measured her dark trousers and grey blouse. “What you're wearing is suitable enough.” He handed her the keys.

Dominique gripped them as a devious idea formed in her mind. Being a driver for Kevin Jackson would be a great way to get close to him. This was an opportunity she couldn't pass up, and by the time they discovered her deception she'd be way ahead of them.

“Do you have any questions?”

Dominique glanced at the Bentley, then the man, and pasted on a smile. “No, you've been more than helpful.”

T
his was
the last place she thought she'd find a playboy like Kevin. A stuffy university didn't seem to suit his reputation. An off-campus frat house filled with coeds—yes. A distinguished university building with the sound of Beethoven coming from one room and the voice of a teacher discussing the virtue of symbolism in literature in another—no.

Dominique walked down the empty halls, briefly remembering her university days. She didn't remember much. She'd been too driven, too eager to prove herself to have much fun. Or any fun. She hadn't attended one extracurricular activity. No football or basketball games, concerts, or parties. She glanced out the window and saw a couple laying on the campus lawn, kissing. The man's hand sneaking up the girl's top. Dominique suppressed a grin. She certainly hadn't done that. Her routine had been simple—study, sleep and eat. The latter two being more debatable than the former. She'd followed her routine for four years and had her life planned out. That plan hadn't included Chester getting her promotion, Berton cheating on her, or Kevin Jackson.

Kevin Jackson.
He was the reason she was here. The reason she'd briefly allowed herself to stroll down memory lane and recall how much she'd given up for a dream her father continued to hold out of reach. She stopped at the room number given to her and glanced at her watch. She was right on time. That should please him. Or annoy him. She didn't know what kind of man he was yet.

Dominique opened the large wooden door, then stopped. For some reason she'd expected a large lecture hall where she could hide in the back row, but instead it was a small room with chairs situated in a circle. That wasn't what shocked her the most. It was seeing Kevin.

He was magnificent, gorgeous, and completely naked.