Queen of Diamonds (7 page)

“Who is that smarmy bastard?”

Kendall bit back a smile. The pressure behind her eyes receded.  “He told you James Roderick the third.”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. What is he to you?” he snapped.

She arched an eyebrow. “What difference could it possibly make to you?”

“Writer’s curiosity,” he muttered and downed his champagne.

Could the great Logan Hunter actually be jealous? It just didn’t make sense. Logan was almost as famous for his casual affairs as he was for his mystery novels.

“What’s this about? Why should you care that another man was talking to me?"

His eyes narrowed. After a moment, he relaxed. "Do you want to do a dance or do you want the truth."

Like her daughter. Always the pragmatist. What would have happened if she'd met Logan five years ago and Caroline had been his? Something told her the first words out of his mouth wouldn’t have been 'get rid of it'. "I think I’d just as soon do the dance."

"Coward," he said without heat.

"Maybe."

"Do you want to talk about it?" His hand slipped from her back to her elbow as he led her out to an empty balcony. The night air cooled her heated skin and tickled her senses, while the wind whispered softly in a nearby tree, carrying the scents of Logan’s aftershave and sweet autumn clematis. He tugged ’til she faced him then dropped his hand.

“About what?”

“About why you looked like a deer in the headlights when you were talking to James Roderick the third.” He rolled his eyes on the name.

"No."

She turned toward the railing, took a sip of champagne and stared at a thousand twinkling stars lighting the night.

"Is he Caroline’s father?"

She thumped her glass down so hard she was surprised it didn’t shatter in a million pieces. "How did you know? I mean, what makes you say that?"

"All you have to do is look at him, Kendall."

All you have to do is look at him
. The words echoed in her head. And all James would have to do was look at Caroline. Well there was no reason James would ever see Caroline. All she had to do was lay low until he left Charleston.

"I take it you didn’t tell him about his daughter." He put his elbows on the ledge of the balcony and joined her in perusing the heavens.

"No. I didn’t. And she’s not his daughter she’s mine." The words were quietly spoken but the passion behind them was unmistakable.

He turned toward her. "Forgive me for giving you the male perspective but he’s her father, he has rights."

"He wanted me to get an abortion. Thinks I got one. Tonight he offered to reimburse me for it."

"Asshole."

"Exactly."

"Well, it’s your decision, but he is her father. He does have some rights to her."

"He has no rights," she spat out. "And if he found out about her and decided he wanted her, what then? Do you think I could fight that kind of power and money?" Anxiety and fear washed through her, leaving her heart pounding and her legs tingling.

He lifted her chin, looked into her eyes. "I think you could fight the devil himself and win."

The tension in her body eased. Her lips quirked into a small smile. "Thank you."

His gaze held hers. His head slowly lowered. Her lips parted. Her eyes closed. His mouth was gentle and warm, offering comfort, with a hint of banked passion.

The sound of voices drew near. Unhurriedly, he lifted his head. "It’s starting to get rather crowded out here. Shall we go back in?"

She hesitated. The night offered autonomy. The crowded, well-lit room offered James.

"Do you want to leave? I need to drop off my check then we can make our escape."

It was uncanny and more than a little unnerving how well he read her. She supposed it was what made him such a successful writer. And why women found him so damn attractive.  She looked at the velvet sky, then down at the street lights that threw a warm yellow glow on the sidewalks before turning her attention to Logan. “Yes.”

“I’ll be right back.”

She leaned her elbows on the wrought iron balcony enjoying the coolness that seeped into her skin.  An owl hooted nearby.  She looked through the gloom but knew she wouldn’t find it. She never did.

“Are you ready?” As silent as a cat, he appeared.

She straightened. “Let’s go.”

He took her elbow and led her through the ballroom. She glanced around discreetly. At least she thought it was discreetly.

“He’s at the far end of the bar.”

She smiled wryly. “I thought I was being subtle.”

“You were.”

“Then what gave me away?”

“It would have been odd if you weren’t wondering where he was. Plus the muscles started bunching in your arm.”

“Maybe that was at your touch.”

He gave a low laugh, the sound both masculine and smooth. “What are you after,  another raise?”

She grinned then sobered. “Whatever you offered, it wouldn’t be enough.”

He threw her a started look. “Excuse me?”

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

“You haven’t gotten in trouble with the bookies have you?”

“You found out my secret,” she replied lightly.  An older woman, who wore a too tight dress and too many diamonds, jostled against her and apologized.  Kendall’s fingers itched. She longed to remove those diamonds from around the wearer’s throat. Instead, she rubbed her thumbs against her fingertips.

Logan didn’t press her about her need for money instead he too stared at the disappearing woman speculatively. “I trust Queenie’s not here.”

Her body jerked.

“It was just a joke.” His eyebrows drew together, a look of confusion on his face.

“I know. I thought I saw James.”

“Oh.” The answer seemed to placate him. They reached the door without further mishap. When they hit the bottom of the steps an attendant rushed forward to get Logan’s car.  When he returned it, he opened the door for her then Logan. Logan slipped him a bill and got in.

With practiced ease he pulled onto the street. “Do you want to drive along the ocean?” 

What could be more romantic than a drive along the beach, a full moon and an extremely sexy man by her side? Especially this man. While the idea appealed on many levels, common sense prevailed. She stifled a sigh of regret. “I’d better not.”

He glanced at her and raised his eyebrows. He was in a mood she distrusted. Both reckless and playful. “Who are you afraid of you or me?” He waited for her to rise to the bait but all she said was, “I need to get home to my daughter.”

He didn’t push it, instead he leaned forward and punched a button and the reedy sounds of a saxophone floated in the air.

She settled back in her soft-as-butter seat and enjoyed the ride.

When they turned into the drive, she twisted toward him to say goodnight and found her lips locked with the warm firm ones of her boss. His arms imprisoned her. Like before, electricity shot through her and crackled in the air. Heat infused them. One of his hands slid from her waist to her breast where he cupped it with delicate fingers. She moaned against his mouth. Her hands were no less busy. One hand managed to get inside his shirt and trail through the dusting of hair on his chest. The other went straight to his crotch. She felt his manhood quiver and jump.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he groaned as his other hand slid along her thigh. Eagerly, she began to open his fly.  He tucked his hand over hers to help her. At that moment, the porch light flicked on bringing her to her senses. She shoved him away. “Oh my God, what was I thinking? In my own driveway like some hormonal teenager.”

Logan took a deep breath, leaned back and closed his partially-opened fly. “I don’t know about you but I wasn’t thinking at all. And as far as sitting in your driveway, a moment ago it wouldn’t have mattered if we’d been sitting in church with the pope himself in attendance.” He sighed heavily and ran restless fingers through his hair.

“You don’t need to see me to the door.”  Kendall all but leaped for the handle and swung open the door. Before she could jump out, Logan grabbed her arm and drew her back. “Kendall, I don’t know what’s going on here. But I want you to know it’s not the norm. Not even close.”

“I can’t get involved right now. I don’t think I could do casual sex.”

“If this is anything to go by, I guarantee there would be nothing casual about our coupling. Are you worried about what your married friend would say?”

“What?” She looked at him in confusion.

“The married man you’re having an affair with. I take it he’s the jealous type. I wonder if he’s as possessive of his wife.”

“Oh yeah, the man I’m having an affair with.” She forced herself not to squirm. “We don’t discuss his wife and he doesn’t seem nearly as jealous as you do.”

“Why should I be jealous?” His chin notched.

“My point exactly.”

“You deserve better, Kendall.”

“And what exactly would that be, Mr. Logan. You?” She tried for a sneer, but couldn’t quite pull it off.

“Maybe.” 

The word hung in the air between them. She could swear he was as shocked to have said it as she was to have heard it.

“I’ve got to go.” This time when she pulled away, he dropped his hand. No doubt already regretting his hasty words.  She hopped out of the car and hurried to the house with more speed than grace.

Tires squealed as he left the drive faster than was strictly necessary.

Chapter Nine

What the hell was wrong with him? Had he actually suggested getting involved with his efficient, sexy publicist?

With a quick turn to his right, he pulled into a parking lot near the pier and killed the motor. He leaned his head back against the headrest and took a couple of deep breaths, waiting for his heart rate to slow, while he watched a dragon-shaped cloud travel across the moon. Blood returned to his fingers as he loosened his tight grip on the steering wheel.

Why after three years was he becoming so acutely aware of his assistant? How had she managed to hide herself behind a colorless exterior? An exterior that was a façade for a beautiful woman with banked passions, capable of bursting into flame at the most inconvenient moments. Probably more inconvenient for her than him. His lips quirked in a wry smile.  The hands off signs were definitely in place, except when her body betrayed her. Then she definitely approved hands on. 

His temperature, that had started to cool, shot back up at the thought of his hands on her lush form.

He’d had lustful urges before, nearly always satisfied. And the ones that weren’t he’d shrugged off and moved on. He loved women. Their quirky minds. Their wonderful bodies. Their ability to give. He loved them in the plural. Unfortunately, he was now thinking in the singular.

He’d never known a woman before whose life was an illusion. The real person, who changed or disappeared like a wisp of smoke, was hidden behind mirrors. He didn’t even know who she really was. But he knew he wanted her. With a driving need that increased with each passing day. She was making him crazy. He put his hands on his head and groaned. 

A thought hit him and he lifted his head. He was a writer. Maybe it was time to unravel the mystery of Kendall Theron. He’d been going about it all wrong, thinking he could draw her out, win her over with his charisma. Unfortunately, Kendall seemed singularly immune to his charm.

He straightened. Well, there were ways of gathering information other than the direct approach.  The internet wasn’t nearly as coy as Ms. Theron.  He turned the key in the ignition, and whistling, headed home.

Twenty minutes later, he was seated in front of his computer, a longneck on the desk. Absently, he picked it up and took a swallow as he stared at his screensaver, a book cover with a smoldering blonde. He and the model had two steamy weeks together before they went their separate ways. 

His gaze slid to his publicist’s neat desk. Guilt niggled at him about digging into her private life but he quickly buried it. The woman was determined to keep secrets. He was determined to unearth them. Her reticence was a challenge, impossible to resist.

The chair gave a soft sigh and encircled him as he settled in. He typed Kendall Theron and began his search.

Three hours later, he leaned back and tapped the desk with his fingertips while he studied the screen, frowning thoughtfully.

He’d drilled deep. For the most part he’d found what he’d expected. She’d been born an only child to blue-collar parents, excelled in her studies in high school and earned a scholarship to Harvard where she’d met James Roderick the third.
Asshole. How could she have fallen for someone so shallow?

He grimaced. He hadn’t had to look far to find information on James, the charismatic charmer. Society’s darling. The social pages were loaded with his exploits, including his college sweetheart, his poor college sweetheart. A picture of them showed him smiling easily into the camera while Kendall averted her head.

Even then she’d been furtive. While her grades were stellar, she’d joined no clubs, no organizations.  Right after graduation, she’d dropped off the grid only to appear nine months later back in Charleston with baby Caroline.

She’d lived in Charleston a year working as a freelance publicist before she came to work for him.   Logan leaned back and took a swig of the now warm beer and continued to study his notes. Two years ago, her mother—who he had no idea existed—had been placed in an Alzheimer facility. As he read his notes, he absently rubbed his index finger where a scar remained from a cut he’d got as a boy.

The facility was one of the best in the state. And while he could easily afford it he was unsure how a publicist and a retired janitor could. He hadn’t unearthed anything about an inheritance of note except for an aunt who’d passed and left her about ten thousand. But that probably wouldn’t keep her mother where she was for more than a month.

He’d looked up the fees. They were staggering. And it didn’t look like a place that accepted Medicaid. At least that was his take. He’d call later and confirm.  So how was his assistant able to afford her mother’s care? He tugged at his lip. No wonder her dad wanted her to have a raise.

Damn.
It had to be the married man she was having an affair with. It was the only thing that made any sense. No doubt he was funding the whole thing.

Unbidden a picture rose in his mind of a shadowy character, whose lips were placed firmly on Kendall’s full lush mouth, his body covering hers.

Logan jumped up cursing. Running restless fingers through his hair he stepped out onto his small wrought iron balcony and looked out at the sleepy night. A light breeze whispered. The cool air carried the yeasty scent of rolls from the local bakery down the corner. The owner baked late every night and every morning fresh pastries filled his sparkling glass case. 

Unfortunately, the crisp air and mouthwatering scents were having no effect on the pricks of heat beneath his skin.  He clenched the rail. “This is ridiculous.”

“Sugar, life is ridiculous. It’s nothing but one big joke.”

He looked down. Beneath him a middle-aged black woman with honey-colored skin, wearing a faux—at least he assumed it was faux—leopard skin coat, a gold band around her forehead and black stilettoes, walked a small dog of mixed origins.

“Ain’t it the truth?” He nodded, grateful the woman had broken his somber mood.

She strolled on.

He swatted at a buzzing insect that dive bombed his ear. At least, he thought he’d gotten to the bottom of the affair. He turned to go in and hesitated, his hand on the balcony door.  She just didn’t seem the type to sell herself in an exchange for anything. But then what did he really know about Kendall Theron?