Hard Curves (Dangerous Curves Book 2) (3 page)

She swallowed hard.

“So, I get it, OK?” His husky voice was as soft as it ever got. “I get what you’re doing and what you’re protecting. I care about it too, and I really admire your dedication to it. You’re looking out for your artists’ livelihoods, and your program’s reputation, and I’m not going to jeopardize those things, I promise you. If you feel that strongly that I can’t sponsor your work openly, then I’ll make an anonymous donation as a private individual. It’s legal and you’d be safe.”

She opened her mouth to say something, closed it again. He was right, actually. He
could
make a donation that way and she’d be able to accept it. But would it be strings-free?

“And what do you want in return?”

His eyes flashed again. “Who says I want anything?”

“You don’t?”

“No.”

They stared at each other now, and the silence stretched out between them.

“So, what do you think?” he said.

“I – I guess it would be OK.”

He grinned. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She found herself smiling back at him. “Thank you, Mr. Kingston.”

He sighed. “Look, can we stop that? If you can’t get on board with ‘King’, can we agree to saw it off in the middle and have you call me Matt?”

“Matt,” she repeated. “OK. Thank you, Matt.”

“My pleasure, Naomi. So, I’ll have my accountants prepare all the documents for transfer through their firm, and I’ll run everything past my lawyers just to be sure that you’re protected.” King cocked his dark head at her. “And I’ll see you at one o’clock at the Heart Center. Right?”

“Right.” She stood up and accepted his extended hand covered in heavy silver rings. “Thank you again.”

He knew he was holding her hand a bit too long, but her skin was so soft against his rough fingers, and her hand was shockingly tiny in his. He stared down at her, wishing he could stroke her cheek, her hair. She’d be silky and delicate, he just knew it and to his horror, he went hard, just at the
thought
of touching her.

Naomi saw the heat in his eyes and her whole body responded to it. Despite her best efforts to ignore his body, she was all-too-aware of his size, his strength. He was a powerful man – and not just physically. God help her, but it turned her on to think about him rescuing children and women, tracking down murderers and rapists, hauling them in to face justice.

He’s really OK after all, isn’t he? And that makes everything much more complicated all of a sudden. Why couldn’t he be a straight-up criminal asshole that I could just walk away from? Why? Why?

Gently, she took her hand back and jammed it in her pocket, palmed her sobriety chip. “So, have a good morning. I’ll see you later today.”

“Yeah.” King stuck his hands in his jeans pockets to hide his arousal. “Later.”

They both spent the rest of the morning watching the clock, counting down the minutes until they saw each other again, cursing their stupidity at their eagerness.

Dammit. Don’t start what you can’t finish.

Chapter Three

Sarah Matthews limped in to the Art With Heart Center. It was just over eight weeks since her ex-boyfriend had beaten her in to a coma, six weeks since she had come out of it, and she was still grateful that the damage wasn’t anywhere near as bad as it could have been.

The right side of her lower body had been almost totally unresponsive when she’d come to, and had to be retrained and strengthened. Five weeks of intensive physical therapy was working wonders, and she was now walking on her own… though painfully slowly and carefully. She still lost her balance easily, but she hadn’t had any serious tumbles.

Far more frustrating was her memory loss. When she’d first emerged from the coma, she’d had very little memory of her relationship with her boyfriend Jax. But as more time passed – and they spent more time together – things had started coming back to her. She had been told that she probably wouldn’t ever fully regain all her memories, and she was working to make her peace with that.

Jax Hamill walked next to Sarah, keeping an anxious eye on her. More than once, she’d pitched forward and gone down, and he was on constant high-alert to catch her if that happened. So far, they’d been pretty lucky, but no way Jax was going to let her fall. Not if he could help it.

“Hey, guys.”

They looked over to see King already there, his massive frame reclining in a chair that somehow managed to hold his weight. A steaming cup of coffee sat on a table next to him, and he looked on-edge.

“Hey, man,” Jax said. “You got here a bit early.”

King had actually arrived almost forty-five minutes earlier. He’d sat on his bike out in the parking lot next door, freezing his ass off in the autumn chill, watching the seconds tick past and counting his breaths. His whole body had strained to just get the hell off the bike and get in to the damn building. He wanted to see Naomi again, wanted it like he hadn’t wanted anything in years. Maybe ever.

He’d used the time wisely, though. He’d sat there, fingers tapping on his large thighs, and wondered just what the ever-living fuck was wrong with him. Why was he all twisted up in knots over a woman that he’d met the day before, and spoken to exactly twice in the whole of his life, and one of those times had been a tense semi-confrontation? This wasn’t his usual MO, not even close, and he tried to pinpoint what it was about Naomi Abbott that was making him slowly but surely lose his goddamn mind.

OK, she was beautiful, no doubt about that, but she wasn’t even close to King’s usual type. Jax had said so yesterday, and the man had been bang-on correct. King thought about his most recent ex, Janine, and when he mentally put the two women side-by-side, he wanted to laugh. Could they
be
any more different?

Janine was the last in a long,
long
line of tall, dark-haired beauties. Slim and long-legged, with enhanced tits and lips, she had the kind of looks that smashed a man over the head, hard. No missing her and God knows, she’d never tried to hide. Janine had been happy to parade and strut, and King had been happy to look. Or he had been, until Janine’s refusal to take care of herself properly had made everything implode in the most dramatic way possible.

Naomi, though…quiet beauty, small, curvy. Her blonde hair was cut short – much shorter than any other woman he’d ever been attracted to – and that kind of surprised him. He’d always thought that he liked women with flowing hair, but he loved Naomi’s cut. It accentuated her gorgeous dark eyes and sharp cheekbones and full lips, and it framed her face perfectly. King wondered just what the hell had happened to him that he was actually noticing shit like a flattering hairstyle on a woman.

King’s
other
usual type was the kind of woman who would work for his renegades-for-hire business. Not that he ever slept with his female staff, despite the fact that Honey, Angel, Valentina and Lilly were all smoking hot women. And he had to admit that part of his attraction to these kinds of women was their ability to beat the crap out of bad guys or hit a moving target at ninety feet. Bad-ass chicks, hardcore and trained-up, really did it for him. As a bonus, they tended to not be big in to commitment, and that did it for him, too.

Again, though…Naomi. Not the kind who could break a man’s knee with a single well-placed kick, not the kind who’d know what the hell to do with a Glock 19. She was a painter and a businesswoman, and she walked around in trim little suits. She was reserved and contained – and King longed to see her just cut loose.

I just bet she’s got a hidden wild side…there was something in her eyes this morning, man. Dark and secretive. Sexy as hell.

If he was being totally honest with himself, he had to admit that she’d actually impressed the hell out of him that morning. Showing up at the garage – an intimidating place, to put it mildly – and then putting him in his place for calling her a pet name, not letting him talk to her like she was just some chick.

She hadn’t backed down when he’d gotten angry, she hadn’t backed off when he’d turned the tables on her a bit. She was protective of her organization, she fought for her artists. Naomi had integrity, and guts,
and
a hot ass, and as King sat in the parking lot, he decided that he liked all of that just fine.

He’d stayed put for as long as he could physically stand it, then he’d sprinted in to the Heart Center ten minutes early and all jacked-up on adrenalin – only to be disappointed to hear that Naomi was leading a workshop. Deflated, he’d accepted a cup of coffee and then brooded and watched the clock some more. When Jax and Sarah walked in, he almost crumpled with relief at the distraction.

He played it cool now. “Yeah. I got here a bit early. Slow day at the garage.”

Sarah handed Jax her coat and then sat down with a wince. King gazed at her, taking in the strain around her blue eyes, and wondered if she was in pain.

“Hey, Red. How you doing?”

“OK,” she said. “A bit tired today.”

“Yeah?” King said. “You didn’t get enough sleep last night?”

She blushed now and King grinned.

“Oh,” he said, looking at Jax. “Late night last night, guys?”

He watched as they stared at each other, an intense look of longing and connection passing between them, and he felt an increasingly-familiar pang deep inside his chest. He’d known Jax for a little over five years now, and Sarah was his first serious girlfriend, and she was the real fucking deal.
God
, the way those two looked at each other – it sucked all the air out of a room, and it made every other person turn invisible.

What would it be like to have a woman look at me like that, just once in my life? Like I was her sun and moon and stars? Like I was her blood and breath?

King had no clue why he was starting to want these things; all he knew was that he did. He wanted them badly, and he knew that he wasn’t going to get them with party-girls or guns-for-hire who moved around where the work was.

Can I get them with a woman like Naomi? Maybe
with
Naomi?

“Hi.”

He looked up at the greeting and shot to his feet. There she was, and his heart rate accelerated at the mere sight of her. In the two times that he’d seen the woman before, she’d been all suited up, and he’d thought she was sexy as hell like that. But holy God, Naomi in worn jeans and an oversized shirt was doing it for him too. She was standing there, so natural and casual, and it was kind of killing him: no fancy jewelry, no high heels, no snug blazer. And the woman was still a knock-out.

“Hi,” Jax replied. “You just finished a class?”

“Yeah. I led a sketching workshop.” She ran her hands through her short hair. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“No problem,” Sarah said. “We’ve only been here a minute.”

Oh, me too. A minute plus another forty-three minutes before that. But no big deal.

Naomi smiled at them, trying to ignore how gorgeous Matt looked.
How
was it possible that every time she saw him, he got more devastating? He was standing there in jeans and a black t-shirt, impossibly huge and muscular, and her whole body just wanted to curl up against him. His face was open and bright, and she wondered what had brought that look to it.

“OK, then,” she said, trying to stay focused on the task at hand. “You want a tour of the place?”

“Sure,” King said.

Sarah got to her feet incredibly slowly and Naomi paused. The other woman looked wiped out, shaky and hollow-eyed, and Naomi felt concern move through her.

“You OK?” she asked. “You look done in, Sarah. You want to lie down in my office for a while? I have a small sofa there.”

“No, I’m fine.” Sarah tried to look somewhere close to fine. “I just came here straight from physical therapy and it was kind of intense today… maybe I pushed it a bit too much. I’ll be alright in a few minutes.”

“You sure?” Jax said. He moved to stand next to her now, alarmed. “Naomi’s right… you look really pale.”

“I – I’m exhausted.” Sarah’s voice was low, almost embarrassed, as she finally told the truth. She sat down again, her legs trembling and weak under her. “I’m so sorry, guys.”

“Hey, no. Don’t apologize for anything.” Naomi shook her head. “You want to reschedule?”

“No.” Sarah managed a small smile. “We can go and you guys can stay. Jax and I have been here many times and we’ve sorted out all the payment details, right? So really, today is about King. He’s never been to the Heart Center before, and you two still need to talk numbers…” She pushed her red curls back from her face with a weary hand. “Why don’t you guys do that and we’ll head out?”

“You sure?” King said, simultaneously freaked out and thrilled at the thought of being alone with Naomi. “You don’t mind?”

“Why would we mind?” Jax said. “You go on with Naomi and figure your stuff out. I’ll get Sarah home.”

King and Naomi watched as Jax gently lifted Sarah to her feet, supporting her. He helped her put on her coat, and Naomi almost sighed at the way that Jax’s hands moved over Sarah’s body. He was slow, careful, loving. Despite his rough demeanor, he handled that woman like she was the most precious thing in the world, and Naomi felt a chasm of loneliness as large and wide as the Grand Canyon open up inside her.

What would it be like to be the center of a man’s universe, just for once in my life? To have him treat me with nothing but respect and care? To touch me like I was valuable and cherished?

King held the door for his friends, watched them walk out to Jax’s truck. Sarah was leaning on him heavily and King felt worried. She hadn’t looked this weak in quite a while, and he hoped all she needed was a good sleep. God knows, she’d been through more than enough, and if anyone deserved some peace, it was her.

“You think she’s OK?” Naomi asked.

“I hope so.” King sighed. “She’s been through hell, and she just keeps fighting, you know? Today is the first time I’ve seen her admit to being tired, though, so it must be bad.”

“Yeah.”

They stared at each other for a few seconds, then Naomi shook herself. “OK, so. Looks like it’s just you and me.”

King gave her a slow smile. “I’m all yours.”

Argh.
Why
did everything that the man say or do have to sound and look so damn sexy? She’d told Mirrie that Matt had shown up and breathed and looked unnervingly gorgeous while doing so, and she actually hadn’t been kidding. There he stood in front of her now –
just breathing, damn him
– and she was barely able to keep herself from leaping at him.

The fabric of that t-shirt was thin enough for her to see the curves of his chest and abs through it, no problem. The large, taut muscles rose and fell with his every breath, approaching and then retreating, teasing and tantalizing her. When he absently ran one massive hand over the back of his neck, every muscle in his arm tensed and flexed, even just with that simple, casual movement. He was dark, and dangerous, and the most astonishingly scorching hot man she’d ever seen. She’d had
no idea
that men like Matt Kingston were running around loose out there, all hard eyes and hard edges, and the knowledge scared her about to death.

“OK, great.” Her voice came out cool and confident, thank God. “This way.”

She led him through the small reception area and in to an enormous open-space room. It was busy and noisy and as always, she felt her spirits rise as she looked around.

“Wow.” King stopped, a bit stunned. “It’s huge, Naomi.”

“Yeah, I know. This obviously used to be a warehouse, and it had already been partially-converted for commercial purposes when I bought it two years ago. I love the open-plan concept, so I left it as it was.”

King stared around him, trying to take it all in. Huge windows lined the room, providing good light and amazing views of the Rocky Mountains under a blazing blue sky. The floors were dark wood, and there were easels and tables of art supplies scattered around all over the place. He saw a shelf overflowing with art books over in the corner, a bunch of art magazines on a long table, some handmade vases with cheerful flowers. It was so warm and welcoming, and he imagined it had to be an amazing creative space for the artists.

They walked around a bit, Naomi introducing him to some of the artists and the staff. He glanced at the easels as they passed by, and he was shocked at what he saw. Some of the paintings were amazing, and he was a bit shaken at the amount of sheer unrecognized talent standing around the room.

“My God,” he said. “It’s beautiful work.”

Her dark eyes sparkled at him. “And these are just the painters.”

“Yeah.” King look around. “Where does Callie do all her pottery and sculpture?”

“Over here.”

She led him down a hallway and past several open doors. These were smaller rooms, but still a good size, with high ceilings and more large windows. In one of the biggest rooms, there was obviously a class of some kind going on, and everyone looked at them over their pottery wheels.

King nodded at the students and they stared back, many of them expressionless, some afraid. He knew from his sister, Callie’s Mom, that Naomi had staff experienced in dealing with autistic adults, and they handled any outbursts or panic attacks. He wondered how often these things happened; when they entered the now-empty sketching room, he asked her about that.