Uncensored Passion (Men of Passion) (20 page)

Kayla looked as though he had just slapped her.

“As for me, I intend to tell him that J.J. is just trying to decide what he wants to do and is indeed just your pool boy. Maybe it would be best if you didn’t tell J.J. that his father is having him investigated because, after meeting him, I think the kid is pretty volatile and I don’t know what he might do, but I guess you know him a hell of a lot better than I do. Then again, most teenagers are hyper, most believe they’re invincible. I did when I was a teenager. Anyway, I’ll leave that decision up to you.”

“You—you lied to me, Devon. Ah—Trey. All of it was just an elaborate lie!”

“Not as big as the lie you told me. Or rather what you didn’t tell me. Yes, Kayla, all of it was a lie except the way I feel about you. I do love you, so much so that it rips my guts apart, thinking of you being with those other guys, no matter how great they are.

“I wish to God I could erase all of this, even meeting you, from my mind because I know I’m going to be haunted forever, remembering how it was between us and knowing it’s over, knowing you’re here, doing all those fantastic things you did to me, to them.”

“Devon—ah—Trey,” she amended tearfully. “It doesn’t have to be over. I can live with your lie if you can live with mine. Why don’t you talk to the guys, listen to how it all works for us, and try to understand—”

“It would never work for me, Kayla,” he interrupted. “I can’t even think about living like this. I’ve been down that ‘sharing-the-bed’ road, remember? And I swore I’d never do it again. Certainly not willingly.”

Kayla lost her battle to keep a rein on her emotions and tears flooded her eyes, falling unchecked down her cheeks as she nodded. “I knew you’d feel this way.”

Trey wanted to pull her against him. He wanted to kiss the tears away, wanted to pick her up and take her away to be with just him forever. Instead he stood, fighting back his own emotions, and walked to the door where he turned to look at her once more.

“Thank you, and
damn
you for giving me the greatest day of my life, one that will haunt me forever. I can find my own way out.”

 

 

 

CHAPTER 18

 

The return

Trey boarded his Delta flight in a lethargic daze. He stashed his carry-on and laptop in the overhead bin then settled in his window seat.

As the plane lifted off and climbed, the sudden emptiness of his stomach remained when the plane leveled off. Not only did he feel empty, he felt gutted, as though he had left most of himself in Nashville.

On his way to the airport, he had momentarily thought about staying and trying life Kayla’s way. And even though he struggled to deny his revulsion and tried to talk himself into at least trying, he knew he couldn’t do it, not even to keep the one woman he had ever loved. He knew, if he forced himself to, in time he would come to hate her and himself.

Now he stared out the window at the tops of the sun-washed cumulous clouds, the bright, cheerful day mocking him.

It should be storming, with blustery winds and threatening lightning strikes.

That was what he was feeling inside—dark and tossed and split and scattered.

He had written up the report he intended to turn in to Gavin Johnson and Dr. Romero while he had waited for his flight departure, exonerating Kayla in the supposed degradation of J.J. Romero.

He had stated that the boy wanted time to find himself and, as far as he could ascertain, J.J. was nothing more than Kayla Saradon’s pool boy. That nothing untoward was happening. He hoped that would satisfy Dr. Romero and he’d leave Kayla alone. And maybe during that given six-month grace period he had promised his son, J.J. would indeed change his mind and want to go back to college. But he doubted both scenarios.

Of course, he knew what Gavin Johnson’s response would be, and he was prepared for it. He didn’t care anymore.

Even if Gavin gets me blackballed from other agencies, I’ll find something to do.

As he stared unseeing out the window, he entertained the thought of reenlisting in the Army. Somewhere, in some part of the world, surely his expertise would be useful.

Now if I just knew how to put Kayla behind me, as though I’d never met and fallen for her.

Trey swallowed hard. He closed his eyes to the headache, knowing that if he did reenlist, no battle zone would compare to the one raging in his own head. He raked a hand through his hair as he silently cursed.

Dammit to hell! I’ve got to stop thinking about it—about her and all the ways she knows how to please a man, about not seeing her again, and knowing they’re all together—before it drives me crazy.

The flight attendant had to ask twice before Trey heard her. He glanced at her as she leaned toward him, her words finally breaking through.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

“Sorry. Yes, I’ll take a Johnny Walker Black on the rocks.”

He didn’t realize she was flirting with him and only half-heard what she was saying about trying out Lagavulin for a change, that it was smoother with a deeper, peatier taste. He managed a smile of sorts and answered something inane like sure, why not, and he was looking forward to tasting it.

As she left to get his drink, Trey returned his stare out the window, forestalling any talk from the elderly woman seated beside him who had tried before to start a dialogue. He didn’t want to talk. And even more than he didn’t want to talk, he didn’t want to think, but he couldn’t stop that from happening.

He closed his eyes again and in the lidded darkness saw Kayla above him, doing all those things to him she knew so well, turning him on in tortuous ways, branding him with her sensual fires.

God, I’ll miss her.

He felt like he was irrevocably immersed in some old black-and-white Humphrey Bogart movie, where he was destined to wander aimlessly alone, watching his one love fade into the distance, unable to stop the roll of credits magnifying the stark reality that it was over for good.

Only I’m the one fading into the distance.

The flight attendant jerked him out of his morose reverie when she returned with his drink. He gave her his credit card, telling her to bring him another, fully intending to try and numb his mind in the hour and a half it took to get to San Antonio. He added, “Make it a double.”

He had decided he wouldn’t go to the office. He’d go to his apartment and get his thoughts together. Maybe try to get some sleep and give his mind a rest before tackling Gavin Johnson and Dr. Romero.

Or hell, maybe I’ll wait a couple of days, not let them know I’m back, just let them stew.

He vacillated between times and dates and speeches he intended to deliver to both of those obnoxious two. His stomach roiled in protest of not having eaten anything as he finished off his second drink. He opened the bag of peanuts and tossed down a few, not really tasting them.

The woman next to him was talking again, doing her best to engage him in conversation. He heard only snatches of what she was saying, something about beautiful weather for flying and was he going to San Antonio for a visit or going home.

Trey said he was going home and then he turned his undivided attention to the window again, hoping she got the clue that he didn’t want to talk.

He wondered what Kayla was doing at that moment.

No doubt at her desk in her fancy office, being efficient and charming and beautiful. And sexy.

Damn, shut up, brain!

 

* * *

 

For the first time since starting her practice, Kayla called her secretary to cancel her appointments for the next day. Her excuse was that she wasn’t feeling well.

She tried to pass off her lassitude to the men—who were all concerned and stated they intended to stay at home and take care of her when she said she was probably just coming down with a cold. She knew they didn’t buy it, especially Harm, but none challenged her.

Luke finally agreed to go in to the bookstore. J.J. dressed to go into work, after Kayla assured him she was okay. Harm and Lee refused to leave, however, both being attentive and concerned, bringing her juice and aspirin and offering massages. All of which she refused, stating she just needed to sleep off her nagging headache. But it wasn’t a headache she was hoping to subdue. It was a heartache.

And as Kayla lay in the curtained, darkened room, she now understood for the first time that phrase some of her patients often used, that they were heartbroken. When she thought of never seeing Trey again, her stomach twisted in knots, and she felt as if someone had taken a hammer and chisel to her heart.

It was midday when Harm came into the bedroom and sat next to her. He reached out to smooth back her hair.

“You love him, don’t you? You know, it might help if you talked about it, hon. There was more going on than just an article, wasn’t there? What did he say, Kayla, before he left?”

She rose up and laid her head against Harm’s shoulder, letting the tears flow, suddenly too weak to resist his offered comfort.

“Tell me, baby. Tell me all of it.”

“Oh, Harm, I was such a fool. I believed him, and he lied to me.”

“About what?”

“He isn’t who I thought he was. He isn’t a reporter, Harm. His name isn’t even Devon Walker. It’s Trey Cameron, and he’s a private investigator with a firm out of San Antonio, hired by J.J.’s father to find out why J.J. refuses to go home, to find out what kind of hold I have on him.”

Harm stiffened. “I’ll break his damned neck!”

“No, Harm, you don’t understand. Trey came here to tell me that he was going to report back to J.J.’s father that J.J. was nothing but a pool boy and needed time to decide what to do. He isn’t going to tell him the truth about us.”

“And you believe him about that?”

“Yes.”

“Seems to me he was pretty good at lying, so why would you believe him now?”

“He—he wouldn’t deliberately hurt me, Harm.”

“But he has. For the first time since I’ve known you, Kayla, you’re in bed all day. You’ve cancelled your Monday appointments and you’re crying your eyes out, miserable. That son-of-a-bitch
has
hurt you and he’ll pay! We’ll find him and make him pay.”

“No, Harm. I don’t want you to do that. Please. The main thing is that J.J. doesn’t find out, because I don’t know how he’d handle knowing his father sent an investigator to destroy my reputation and make him go home.”

Standing just outside the door Harm hadn’t quite closed, J.J., who had opted at the last minute to stay home, as well, listened. With his fists clenched, his eyes narrowed, he made up his mind as to what he had to do.

Harm held Kayla while she cried, undecided about the next step that had to be taken, not knowing how to stop her pain. He wanted to kill Trey Cameron. And he wanted to pound J.J.’s father. But all he could do was hold Kayla while she cried.

 

* * *

 

J.J. packed hurriedly, throwing necessities into a bag after he’d phoned the airlines and gotten his ticket reserved on the next flight out to San Antonio.

Grabbing the bag, he phoned for a taxi and made his way quietly downstairs without alerting the others. He knew they would try and stop him, but he was determined to do this, to settle things with his father the only way he would accept and understand.

He waited outside for the taxi, gritting his teeth in suppressed rage, hating himself for having brought this down on Kayla, the woman he loved and would always love, no matter what happened.

Just as the taxi rolled to a stop, the front door opened and Lee started toward him.

“J.J., where’re you going?” Lee asked as J.J. climbed into the taxi.

“Tell Kayla I love her, and I always will.”

“J.J., don’t go,” Lee implored.

“I’ve got to. Thanks for making me feel so at home.”

He slammed the door and the taxi pulled away.

Lee went back inside and burst into Kayla’s bedroom where he found her crying in Harm’s arms.

“What’s going on?” Harm asked.

“J.J. is gone.”

“Gone? Where?” Harm asked.

“He took a bag and left in a taxi. I think he’s probably going home. I don’t know why he would do that. And he seemed to be saying a permanent goodbye. He said to tell you that he loved you, Kayla, and always would. Wonder what happened? What would cause him to leave like that?”

“Dear lord, I think maybe he overheard Harm and me talking. Do you think so, Harm?”

“Sounds like it.” Harm’s lean face darkened.

“What were you two talking about?”

It was Harm who explained it all, and when he had finished speaking, Lee was ready to take the next flight out to San Antonio, find Trey, and tear his head off.

“Trey isn’t a bad person, guys,” Kayla defended him. “He was just doing what he was hired to do, but he assured me he was going to report that J.J. was nothing more than my pool boy. And he came here to warn me that Dr. Romero probably wouldn’t let it go at that, that he’d probably send someone else. I don’t know what J.J. is going to tell his father, so I don’t know what the fallout is going to be. I’m sorry that my error in judgment might wind up causing embarrassment for any of you,” Kayla said with a suppressed sob.

They both hugged and kissed her, reassuring her that she wasn’t to blame for the way Trey had deceived and used her.

“We’ll all weather this storm together, hon,” Harm said.

“Maybe we should go and face down that son-of-a-bitchin’ father of J.J.’s and Trey Cameron, too,” Lee gritted.

“No. That would only add fuel to the fire. We can only hope that somehow J.J. will calm his father down and get him off Kayla’s case,” Harm said, in his pragmatic way. “Let’s wait and see how it plays out.”

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 19

 

Retribution—San Antonio

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