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Adrienne Giordano Page 5
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Page 5
“That’s fine,” she said. “Increase the credit limit another five-hundred. If he goes over that, I’ll speak with him.”
The phone rattled against the glass table tucked about ten feet into a recessed section of the patio. A lone lamppost along the palm tree covered walkway offered light, but Kristen remained barely visible. “Never a break,” she said.
Screw it. Billy slid his shirt on and took a step forward. Having already been hammered about his overzealous attention, coming at her half naked probably wouldn’t suit. Plus he had a few nasty-ass scars from various knife and gunshot wounds and well, 'nuff said there.
He stopped just beyond the opening of the trees. No sense scaring the bejesus out of her. “Kristen? It’s Billy.”
A yelp sounded and he snorted. That squeak should so not come out of a woman built like Kristen Dante. No, Kristen needed one of those throaty sounds that grabbed a man by the balls and made him want to hear it between the sheets.
“You scared me,” she said.
“Can I come back there?”
“Sure.”
He stepped into the cover of the trees and found her sitting at a table, alone—thank you, St. Christopher. A soft light tucked into the landscaping threw shadows across her. The diffused light shined over her reddish-blond hair and pale skin, giving her an ethereal look that made Billy suck in a breath. Damn, this woman was stunning. She tucked the cardigan she wore a little closer around her and shot him a warning look.
Yes, he was doing it again. Staring. She might as well fudging shoot him now because chances were he’d be falling off the wagon a few times.
But, being the quick thinker he was, he retreated one step to put more space between them. Her shoulders eased back. Mission accomplished.
From the sky, thousands of stars twinkled at him and he tipped his head back. South Beach in December. What a place. And what a brilliant spot for her to be hiding. During the day, this would be a quiet location to eat or read. At night, the trees kept it hidden for total privacy.
Figuring he had stalled long enough to rid whatever discomfort lingered, he brought his attention back to her. On the table sat a half-eaten salad—could that thing be any smaller?—a small bowl and a half-filled martini glass. “Are you having dinner?”
“Yep. This is where I come at night for quiet. Don’t tell anyone you’ve discovered my sanctuary.”
He angled back toward the pool. “You want me to go?”
She glanced behind him, tapped her fingers on the table. “Not at all. Sorry, didn’t mean to imply you were interrupting. Were you looking for me?”
“No. I just got back from a run. I heard something back here and wanted to check it out.”
“Well, thank you for that. It’s nice to know you’re looking out for us.” She gestured to the chair across from her.
Score one for Team Relentless. Or, Team-Trying-Not-To-Be-Relentless.
Billy sat, grabbed the hem of his shirt and wiped the last of the sweat from his face. “This is a great spot.”
“I come out here when I stay at the hotel. This meal is my dinner special. Soup, salad and a dirty martini.”
How much salad could someone eat? “You stay at the hotel?”
She nodded. “On the weekends. It gets crazy in the clubs, so I prefer to be on-site. I have a suite on the thirty-fifth floor.”
“And you don’t want to get away from work a while? Go home and chill?”
“I have a hotel to run.”
“You’re not allowed to have a life?”
She sat back in her chair. Getting comfortable. Good deal.
“I have a life. It operates around the hotel as opposed to the hotel operating around me.” She sipped her martini. “I would think you know all about that. The job running your life.”
“I like the constant change. It satisfies the adrenalin junkie in me.”
“You sound like my sister. She always needs excitement.”
Ouch. He wasn’t sure how he felt about being compared to Jess Dante, a girl who couldn’t figure her way out of an elevator, but he’d engage his impulse control and suck it up. For now. While he considered how to prove his intelligence and capabilities and the fact that he was nothing like Jess. “It is interesting that the two of you came from the same parents.”
“We didn’t. She’s my half-sister.”
“Your parents are divorced?”
“Yes. When I was five. Dad remarried and he had Jess with his second and now ex-wife. I was six when she was born.”
That explained the differences in the sisters’ personalities. And man, oh, man, divorce had to suck for a five-year-old. Billy couldn’t grasp it. His folks were going strong after forty years, which, apparently, was a rarity these days. Call him a lucky bastard. “Your dad has bum luck with wives, huh?”
She widened her eyes in that you’re-not-kidding look. “That’s an understatement. He went from my mother, the world-renowned neurosurgeon, to a B-movie actress. He and the actress were a disaster and got divorced when Jess was a baby. She never experienced her parents being married. I remember bits of things from when we were a family. She doesn’t have that.”
“Is that why you took her on here? No offense, but she’s a train wreck.”
Kristen sat forward, propped her chin in her hand and, yeah, all he needed to do was inch. A. Leetle. Closer. And his arm would brush against hers. So tempting. But he was trying to play by her rules and if he wasn’t allowed to stare at her, touching would be deep-sixed.
“You always say what you’re thinking don’t you?” she asked.
And wasn’t that the burden of his life? “Pretty much. It gets me in trouble a lot. Most people can’t take it.”
“I’m sure.”
“It’s not that I’m trying to be an asshole. Well, not usually.” He grinned. “I have a fairly common birth defect.”
The one I made up so I don’t have to talk about the real issue.
That got him a full-blown laugh and the sound squeezed his pitter-pattering heart. Could be love.
“A birth defect?”
“It’s true. I was born without the brain filter most people have that tells them to shut the hell up.”
She rolled her eyes. “Please.”
Billy held up his hands. “This is a huge problem for me. Personally, I don’t understand it. I mean, don’t people want honesty?”
“Sure. Honesty is good. My sister is brutally honest.”
Oh hell. Again he was being compared to Jess? Was hell considered a swear word? Dang it, he kept slipping. “Is honesty a good thing with her?”
“Sometimes. The problem is her honesty can be toxic. Yesterday she called me a bitch and that hurt.”
Ignoring his earlier hesitation about moving closer, Billy shifted forward. He didn’t touch her though. Another quarter inch and he might have, but no, he wouldn’t do it. He’d stay clear. “I don’t think she was being honest in that case. Nasty, but not honest.”
Kristen shrugged. “It may not be my truth or yours, but Jess believes it.”
This conversation was about to frustrate the hell out of him. Focus. “It’s not true.”
“She thinks it is. We could sit here all night and argue it. Nothing will change, Billy. My point is certain truths, no matter who they belong to, shouldn’t be spoken.”
“And my point is, you’re not a bitch. You’re trying to run a business and she was in your way.”
Kristen plucked the toothpick with three olives out of the martini glass and bit one off the end. Oh, jeez. Did the woman even know how sexy that was? His entirely male reaction knew. And that male reaction was growing. Rapidly. Hello, slugger. Billy hummed a tune to himself and hoped he didn’t have to stand up for a while.
Kristen swallowed the olive and dropped the other two back in the glass. “But a woman running a business can’t be tough or she’s considered a bitch.”
Unable to stand the pressure of not pouncing on her, Billy sat back. “I agree,
but you’re not a bitch.”
“You’re staring at me again.”
“Yes, I am.” This fudging holding back thing was tough for a guy who liked to play things straight and just go for what he wanted. “I told you I was born without the filter.”
“Nice try.”
“But this is what I don’t understand. I told you yesterday that I liked looking at you. I don’t think it’s a bad thing to find a woman attractive. Now I’m staring, and I was honest about why I do that, and yet, it’s a bad thing.”
Kristen shook her head.
“What?”
“Certain women don’t want to be stared at. I’m one of them.”
“And why is that?”
* * *
Kristen stacked her soup bowl on top of the salad plate and pushed it aside. So not going there with Mr. Adonis. How would he even understand what it felt like to have lived with a self-absorbed actress who never found her skinny enough, pretty enough or just generally enough. For years she’d been dealing with her stepmother’s foul derision regarding her weight. True, the woman was no longer married to Dad, but given she was Jess’s mother, Kristen still saw her and even the briefest visits gouged those old wounds open.
“To answer your earlier question. My sister is indeed a train wreck and yes, that’s why I took her on. I’ve always taken her on. Our parents traveled. My mother would be off saving someone’s life and Dad would be making real estate deals. Jess and I stayed with a nanny or her mother, and her mother didn’t have much interest in anything that wasn’t stunning. Tough woman to please. Not that it’s an excuse for Jess’s bad behavior, because I’m sick of people blaming their parents for every rotten thing that goes wrong in their lives.”
“Once again, I agree.”
She really wanted him to stop agreeing with her so she didn’t have to like him. Yet, here they were, enjoying a lovely Florida evening with casual conversation. When was the last time that happened? Maybe if she made the time, it would be different. But she hadn’t felt enough of attraction’s pull to anyone to make that time. Wanting to do so with the man in front of her terrified her.
“What happened to Jess in Columbia?”
She just blurted it out. Talk about a malfunctioning brain filter. But she’d been wondering for two years now what her sister had gone through in that hellish place, and Jess refused to talk about it. Not with Kristen anyway, and she hated the exclusion. She hated that her sister couldn’t confide in her. She hated that her sister wouldn’t confide in her.
Kristen pushed air through her lips, but Billy remained silent, staring at her with those blue eyes that, even in the dark, sparked and made her want to give in to his advances. But she wouldn’t. No. She had no need for hit-and-run drivers.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sure there’s some kind of professional ethic that doesn’t allow you to elaborate.”
She curled back into her chair, feeling like a foolish, weak girl for letting a near stranger have a glimpse of her totally dysfunctional relationship with Jess.
“It’s not that,” Billy said. “The ethics. Although, I don’t usually talk about it outside my team. I guess I’m surprised you know I was there.”
“My dad told me this afternoon. He wanted me to feel comfortable with you wandering around the hotel asking questions.”
Billy cracked his neck. “How much have you heard?”
“Nothing. All I know is she was captured and Taylor Security pulled her out.”
“Monk was there too.”
“Really.” Kristen imagined Peter, do-rag and all, traipsing through a jungle and decided it fit. He had that warrior look to him.
Billy shook his head. “She was spitting mad when we busted in there. Just kicking and screaming, and I couldn’t shut her up. All I had to do was get in there, grab her and haul ass. But she fought me. I kept telling her who I was, that your dad sent us, but she was pissed. It had to have been shock, but we needed her to shut the hell up or she’d alert the whole camp. And she wasn’t shutting up. I threw her over my shoulder and she bit me.”
The last time I saw you things got a little rough. That’s what Jess had said to him in front of the hotel. They had been talking about her rescue. Only Kristen hadn’t known it at the time and, given her sister’s proclivity to sexual freak shows, assumed Billy had slept with her. “She bit you.”
He smacked his hand across his right shoulder. “Right on the back of the shoulder. Drew blood too. I still have the scar.”
That didn’t surprise Kristen. Jess could be a hellcat.
“By the time I got her out of there, I was dog-assed tired and had to turn her over to Vic. Don’t think I didn’t hear about that for six months. We finally gave her a shot and sent her to a happy place. Three miles to the helos and we didn’t need the screaming drawing fire.”
Billy stopped talking and the message that he would offer no further details was received. Obviously, there was more, but he wouldn’t give it to her.
Kristen folded her hands on the table in front of her. “Did they rape her?”
Thoughts of her little sister being raped by drug lords had plagued Kristen, and the lack of knowing didn’t allow her to offer support. No matter how rocky their relationship, she wanted to save her sister.
Billy’s gaze ricocheted back and forth, and Kristen’s stomach churned. She shook her head, trying to dispel the vision of beautiful Jess enduring such a violation. Billy covered her hand with his and warmth seeped into her, traveled the length of her body and settled in her core. He had a way about him. For sure.
“I don’t know,” Billy said. “My guess is they tried. If she fought them as hard as she fought me, they probably gave up on her. There were—uh—other women there.”
“Oh…” Kristen reached for her martini. Gone. Of course.
“Want another drink? I’ll go inside and grab it for you.”
“I’m cutting myself off.” She tapped the empty glass and reminded herself she couldn’t indulge tonight. “I need to stay sharp. I’ve got a regular in Inferno—one of the clubs—who maxed out the credit on his house account. He’s a big shot record label owner in South Beach who brings in a lot of celebrities. Now he’s entertaining a group and I have to decide how far I’m going to let him go. But that’s my problem to deal with later.”
Billy shrugged. “Works for me.”
“Thank you for telling me about Jess. I feel better. She won’t talk about it.”
“Can’t say I blame her.”
“See, this is one of those times that you being honest worked. I’ve never known what happened to her and now I have a better idea.”
“Y’all are interesting. I’ll say that much.”
Kristen smiled. “Y’all? Are you from the south? You don’t have the accent.”
“I’m originally from Virginia. The accent slips sometimes.”
“Is Virginia home then?”
“Nah. It’s where my family lives. I’m in Chicago most of the time, but I don’t consider anywhere home. When I finally buy a house it’ll be because I want it to be my home.” He grinned. “South Beach is looking mighty nice. For a number of reasons.”
The man was totally flirting with her. And damned if she didn’t sort of like it. Billy Tripp had surprised her. He had an aggressiveness to him. A desire to keep digging until he found what he wanted.
Her phone rang and she scooped it up, her eyes still on Billy. “This is Kristen.”
“It’s Brent. Reed Davis hit his limit.”
Of course he has. It wasn’t as if good looking guys flirting with her made her happy all that often and on one of the occasions it had happened, her job got in the way. “I’ll be right up.” She ended the call and dropped the phone.
“I have to go.”
“Too bad. Can I help?”
“No, but thank you.”
“I’m gonna get cleaned up anyway and check out the valets. I could meet you up there.”
She
smiled at him. “I’ll be fine. It’s just a conversation with a guest. He won’t give me a problem.”
Unlike the man in front of her.
“Regarding problems, you still haven’t told me why staring at you is one.”
“Caught that, did you?”
He grinned. “Yep.”
“Do you have brothers and sisters?”
“Two of each. I’m in the middle.”
“And your sisters? Are they pretty?”
“Ew.”
She laughed. “I’m just asking if they’re attractive. It doesn’t mean you’re attracted to them.”
“Yes. They’re attractive. Still has an ew to it.”
“Do they look alike?”
“Not one bit.”
Perfect.
“Do people point out their differences?”
“How the hell should I know? I never asked.”
“Call your sisters, Billy. Ask them if people ever point out their differences. If they say yes, ask them how it feels. Then I want you to take a long look at my sister. I assure you, it won’t be traumatizing. After that, you should be able to figure out why I don’t like to be stared at.”
Chapter Five
Billy stood alongside the hotel’s main entrance observing the insanity of a Friday night at Dante. Across from him, the valet stand hopped with three guys hauling tail either parking or picking up cars. The boys definitely had a system going, because they were moving cars in and out at blistering speed.
Keys were shifted back and forth between the three valets with ease. If one had a bunch of keys and the other was going to the lockbox, the keys would be passed off. Every thirty minutes the contents of the box were transferred to the valet office inside the lobby. Billy couldn’t see any hiccups where keys might go astray.
Unless one of the valets or someone in the office helped.
Guests and partygoers filed by Billy in packs as he jotted notes. Without his pocket notepad, he’d never remember anything.
A black BMW, one of the big ones, parked in the drive. The valet opened the passenger side door, and Billy caught a flash of blond hair. Out stepped Jess Dante wearing a wicked halter style mini dress.