Betrayed (7 page)

Chapter Twelve

T
he air was
cold, as usual, as McKenzie and Byron made their way down the busy Seattle sidewalks. “Was it your idea to walk?” Byron grumbled as they turned a corner.

“You aren’t going to melt from a little bit of moisture. It’s ridiculous to take a cab or drive a few measly city blocks,” she said, huddled up beneath her coat.

She’d been so flustered leaving the offices, she’d forgotten to grab her gloves, so she stuffed her hands into her pockets There was no way she was going to admit to Byron that she was in the least bit cold, though. Not after calling him a wuss. She would, however, pick up the pace a little bit.

When she stopped in front of a dingy-looking place, she caught Byron’s eyes before she stepped up to the door.

“Here? Seriously?” he asked.

“Look, buster, you’re the one who weaseled a dinner invite out of me. Now, if you want to join us, you’re stuck eating where we like,” she said, reaching out to open the door.

Byron jumped forward right before her fingers connected with the handle, and he opened it for her. Noise from inside blared out, and McKenzie had to smile. Although it wasn’t exactly posh, she had eaten at the place many, many times, and the food was one of the best-kept secrets of Seattle. The head chef was a personal friend of hers now, as she probably ate there more often than the owners did.

“I’m fine with this place,” Byron said as she went past him, mumbling a thank-you because he’d opened the door.

“You don’t appear to be fine with it,” she pointed out, her stomach dipping the slightest bit when her body brushed his. He had purposely left her hardly any room to get by him.

“I was just thinking we’d be going somewhere a little more quiet.”

“Ha! You mean you were hoping to go to a place a lot more fancy.”

“You’re putting words into my mouth,” he said before leaning down, leaving her zero personal space as his eyes bored into hers. “If I want something in my mouth, you’ll be the first person I tell.”

She was frozen as his breath washed over her face. The noise, the crowded front area, the people —
everything
disappeared except for him and those irresistible lips.

McKenzie was grateful when a group of college kids came up behind them, bumping into Byron and pulling McKenzie from the spell she’d been under. She’d been just about ready to let him kiss her right there in a crowded room full of strangers and servers who knew who she was. She really needed to pull herself together or she wasn’t going to last even a few more days, let alone two more weeks in this man’s presence.

“This way,” she told Byron, and she began moving through the crowd. Jewell would already be there, guarding their favorite table, and with luck she’d have a drink ready and waiting. McKenzie really needed that drink if she planned on getting through this dinner in one piece.

The back corner of the place offered almost a measure of privacy — almost, not quite — and there, Jewell sat, a virgin daiquiri in front of her and a cold mimosa on the opposite side of the table. Thank goodness!

“Sorry I’m late, Jewell,” McKenzie said.

Her friend gave her an easy smile before her eyes widened as she took in Byron.

“Um, no problem…,” Jewell replied, leaving the words trailing off.

“Good to see you, Jewell,” Byron said easily. “McKenzie took pity on me since we were working late tonight and I haven’t had a thing to eat all day.”

Byron leaned against McKenzie so he could reach around and pull out a chair. As her blood raced, she lost her thoughts again, and almost plopped down into the chair instead of sitting down properly.

When Byron sat next to her, she had to bite her lip. Had she been thinking, she would have slid in next to Jewell on the side of the table with a bench, giving herself some much needed space away from Byron. But then, of course, she would have been forced to look at the man during the whole meal. She wasn’t sure which setup would be worse.

She looked at Jewell and could see a myriad of questions in her friend’s eyes, but Jewell compressed her lips and then gave Byron a gigantic smile.

“It’s good to see you, Byron. You work so much, and your brother complains that you don’t come over more often.”

“I’ll have to change that,” he said.

Just then, the waitress, Marsha, appeared, notepad in hand and eyes glued to Byron. “I haven’t seen you in here before,” she said, her cheeks flushed slightly.

McKenzie made eye contact with Jewell and rolled her eyes just a bit. What was it about good-looking — okay, incredible-looking — men that turned normal women into drooling messes?

“Well, if the food turns out as good as it smells, I’ll have to become a regular…Marsha,” Byron said, after looking at her name tag. He practically beamed at the waitress, irritating McKenzie even more than she’d already been at the whole ridiculous situation.

Marsha giggled, actually giggled, making McKenzie roll her eyes again. But as Byron turned to give the waitress his full attention, his leg brushed against McKenzie’s, and her agitation turned into raging hormones. She tried to pull away from him, but he just pushed a little closer, and she couldn’t find an escape.

“What can I get you to drink?” the waitress finally asked, as if knowing she’d been staring for too long.

“I’ll take a Jack Daniel’s, straight up,” Byron replied, and the waitress practically fluttered her eyes before rushing away to fill his order.

“It must be nice to fluster people like that,” Jewell said with a laugh, and Byron turned to her with his eyebrows raised. “Oh, come on, Byron, you had to have noticed the way our waitress was drooling all over you. And she’s normally sane.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, but McKenzie knew he was very aware of his effect on people — on women in particular.

“I’m starving,” Jewell told them, “so please figure out what you want to eat. We should get our orders in before the rest of the people now piling through the doors.”

They were silent for a few moments as McKenzie stared at her menu, not seeing a thing on it. Thankfully, she was a creature of habit and already knew what she wanted for dinner, so she wouldn’t be required to use her brain for a few moments.

When Byron set his menu down, he captured Jewell’s attention. She threw him back an amused look that McKenzie had no doubt was meant to irritate her. It worked.

“So, Jewell,” he asked point-blank, “are you going to tell me what’s going on with McKenzie? What is she so desperate to hide from me?”

McKenzie gasped in outrage. “There’s nothing going on,” she told him before Jewell could say a word. She then looked sternly at Jewell before turning back to Byron. “And if there were something going on, Jewell would remain loyal to me and not spill my secrets.”

From the mischievous look on Jewell’s face, McKenzie had a sinking feeling that her friend wasn’t above selling her out. She’d been with Jewell when one of Nathan’s calls had come in, and though she’d tried to cover it up as much as possible, she was shaken up, and Jewell voiced her concern. At least he hadn’t shown up at her door.

“I know you women like to stick together and all, but if McKenzie is in trouble, don’t you think it would be in her best interests to have as many people helping her as possible?” Byron asked, reaching across the table and patting Jewell’s hand.

McKenzie wanted to punch him. “I will repeat that
nothing
is going on,” she practically growled.

“I think your friend likes to keep secrets,” Byron remarked to Jewell. Then he turned and looked at McKenzie, first making her want to squirm in her seat, then ticking her off. He was making her feel like a scolded child.

“She isn’t sharing with me either right now, Byron. If she were, and if I felt that she needed help, I would have to agree with you,” Jewell told him, surprising McKenzie.

“Okay, I can accept that,” Byron said, before he got a mysterious look in his eyes and turned back to Jewell, a megawatt smile suddenly on his lips. “Is she dating anyone?”

Both women went silent for a moment when that question came out. McKenzie was the first to recover. “Don’t you dare answer that, Jewell,” she ordered, but it was Byron she glared at. “I am working for you right now, Byron, for some strange reason, and I care about doing a good job. But my personal life is
none
of your damn business.”

He shifted again, his leg completely glued to hers, and though she wanted anger to remain her main emotion, it wasn’t. He leaned down close, way too close, his expression unchanging, and he spoke only when he knew she was completely tuned in to him.

“I want to get to know you more, learn every…little…thing about you. This thing between us
is
personal. If you can’t take the heat, I suggest you walk away right now,” he warned her.

It took a moment for McKenzie to say a word, and then her shoulders came back and she glared back at him. “And if I do?”

He was silent for so long that she didn’t know if he was going to answer, but then his lips, which had tightened with his last words, turned up again, this time in a far more conquering smile, which scared her. Be my guest, McKenzie. I’m not forcing you to work for me.”

She hesitated a moment and then glared at him again. “Yes, you are. You completely bullied me into the job.”

“I’m a businessman, McKenzie, and I know how to get what I want.”

“And if I walk away now?”

“You have free will,” he told her. “Do you want to walk away?”

McKenzie forgot that Jewell was sitting there across from them as she looked into Byron’s eyes. Did she want to leave? That was the million-dollar question. She should want to leave, want to get as far away from him as she possibly could. But is that what she really wanted?

She couldn’t say the words that might set her free. And she didn’t understand why not.

“I didn’t think so. You’re just as curious as I am about what in the hell is going on between us,” he said before turning his attention back to Jewell. “So, tell me, when was McKenzie’s last relationship?”

He went on as if they hadn’t just had a spat, a tense moment, or whatever in the hell they’d had. McKenzie was so much in shock at his interrogation of her friend, she didn’t protest this time.

That mischievous light returned to Jewell’s eyes. “I honestly don’t know,” she said. “I haven’t ever seen McKenzie with a man.”

Byron’s hand came up and rested on McKenzie’s leg, and though she wanted to remove it, she also loved the way it felt there.

McKenzie had good reason to hate all men — she actually prided herself on feeling that way. And even though she knew Byron’s intentions were far less than honorable, she couldn’t shake the pull she felt toward him.

She was in more trouble than she could handle. And it seemed that it only got worse each new day. Her thoughts were interrupted when the waitress came and took their food order, then disappeared again after flirting, of course, as much as possible.

Luckily, Marsha soon returned to bring refills on their drinks, and the tension was broken. The conversation turned to more neutral topics.

Byron was giving McKenzie a reprieve.

But McKenzie knew the reprieve wouldn’t last.

Chapter Thirteen

B
yron could see
the tension rolling off McKenzie in waves. This was exactly where he wanted her, wasn’t it? So why did he find himself backing away? He should be going in for the kill, but instead he found himself sitting back, eating away at his pasta Bordelaise and sipping on a good red while McKenzie talked to Jewell and slowly calmed down.

Jewell wasn’t paying attention to him, so he took the opportunity to look at her, really look at her. She didn’t seem like the money-grubbing whore he’d thought she was. Whenever Blake’s name came up, no matter how subtly, she practically glowed. He didn’t like having his beliefs tested. But he knew this: even if Jewell was indeed the hooker with a heart of gold that Blake believed her, a young woman who went into the escort business to help her young brother, that didn’t make McKenzie any less contemptible. She was the real whore of the two. She ran the upscale escort service — so upscale that Blake had paid a quarter of a million bucks to bed Jewell the second time around, and McKenzie pulled in half. That woman was the embodiment of money-grubbing.

But if Jewell was an exception among women — if she really did love his brother, and they were good for each other — was his vendetta against McKenzie valid anymore? What was her former profession to him? What was
she
to him? Just another bad woman in a long line of them.

He wasn’t sure what his motives were any longer. All he knew was that he wasn’t ready to let McKenzie walk away from him yet.

The only certain thing about his life was that he didn’t do relationships. Yes, he liked sex, and yes he liked companionship, but he didn’t do the whole boyfriend-girlfriend thing. He didn’t hold hands and stroke the woman’s ego. Look at what that had gained his father — death. A weak man in the clutches of a female who was no better than a prostitute.

But these thoughts weren’t quite helping. Even though he’d only been with McKenzie a short time, she was getting under his skin. Why? She wasn’t playing games with him, or he didn’t think she was playing games, but still, something was going on. That was it. There was a mystery here, and that was what was driving him. He would get to the bottom of it because he couldn’t stand to be left in the dark. And that’s exactly where Byron felt he was at the moment.

“How is everything?” Marsha asked, all her attention on Byron.

“The pasta bordello…” He paused and looked pointedly at Jewell to which she sent him a withering glare and he simply winked. Then he gave his full attention back to Marsha. “Sorry, my mistake. The pasta Bordelaise is some of the best I’ve had.”

“That’s wonderful to hear. I’ll let the chef know,” she said with a giggle before finally retreating.

They finished their meal and when the check came, Byron snatched it up and paid it all, including a generous tip. When the two women protested, he just smiled as he stood and held out a hand to McKenzie. Would she refuse his help up?

She accepted his hand with obvious reluctance, and he tugged, pulling her off balance just enough that she stumbled into him. His damn hormones got into the act again, and he looked down into her eyes, needing more than anything else right then to kiss her. Byron didn’t normally do public displays of affection, but everyone seemed to fade away when he was touching McKenzie. Dammit!

“Do I need to call the fire department before this place goes up in flames?” Jewell asked.

“What?” McKenzie asked, flinching.

Jewell giggled. “The way the two of you were looking at each other, I think you were both going to spontaneously combust at any minute.”

Byron was grateful for the interruption. He normally didn’t let anyone know what he was feeling, even when in lust. Besides, when he next kissed McKenzie, he intended to finish what he started, and he certainly couldn’t do that here, in a crowded bistro.

“I have to get going, McKenzie, but I’ll see you next week. We
will
talk before then,” Jewell told her with a meaningful look. She said goodbye to Byron and went ahead of the two them out of the place.

It wasn’t long before Byron had McKenzie to himself again as they walked down the street back to the offices where their cars were parked. “I enjoyed Jewell’s company this evening,” he said, surprised that it was true.

“She’s very difficult to be around without enjoying her company,” McKenzie replied.

“The two of you started out as employee and boss. How did you become best friends?” he asked, and she stiffened with that reminder of how she and Jewell had met.

She was quiet a moment before answering. “I honestly don’t know. It didn’t take me very long to figure out that Relinquish Control wasn’t the right place for her, but by then she’d already spent a week with your brother and then had come back even emptier than the first time I’d met her. Over the next few months, we talked, a lot, and friendship just grew.”

“I think I could actually like Jewell if I spent much time with her.”

“Yes, you could like a lot of people if you gave them a chance.” Her voice was suddenly so sad, and he needed to know why.

“What is happening in your life, McKenzie? Why all the mystery, and all the secrets?”

“I have nothing to hide,” she said, shutting him down immediately.

“Not true, McKenzie. I watch you,” he said, and her eyes widened. “And I listen. You’re in trouble, and you think you can handle it, but I’ve seen you be strong and I’ve seen you frightened. Sometimes it really helps to get it out.” Why in the hell was he suddenly acting like Dr. Phil?

She stopped and faced him. “I’m very capable of taking care of myself, and I’m not so foolish as to think that you and I are friends, or ever could be friends. I know what this is, Byron. I’m a puzzle, and you can’t stand not being able to solve me. The bottom line is that I’m not worth solving. You would find all of this very anticlimactic in the end,” she said with a fake laugh.
Damn. She shouldn’t have suggested the word “climax.”

She resumed walking, and it took Byron a moment to move his feet and catch back up to her. “I understand that you’re capable of taking care of yourself, but I
am
involved now, and if you think I’m one of these new age weak men — a quiche eater — you are sadly mistaken. Haven’t I said this before? When I want something, I always get it.” He took her arm and kept her from entering the building when they reached it.

“Sometimes in life, I’m afraid to say, you just have to accept that the world isn’t always in the palm of your hand,” she told him. “You don’t get to know my secrets, and you don’t get to control me. I’m not yours to manipulate.”

Byron was done with words. Frustration brewed inside him, and he knew of only one way to release the tension. Before she had time to blink, he pulled her into his arms with the intention of plundering her mouth. That would keep her from arguing.

One hand slid behind her neck and the other around her back as he tugged her close to him, demanding immediate surrender.

She didn’t disappoint him.

As he slipped his fingers beneath her jacket and began moving them up her side, he had one thing in mind, and only one thing, and that was to feel her breasts and find out whether they were as soft and pliable as he’d dreamed about.

A car driving past backfired before he could find out, and she sprang from his arms, her breathing heavy, her eyes bright with desire. Dammit! He’d forgotten where they were once again.

“Let’s finish this in private,” he said.

She took another step back before speaking. “That’s not going to happen,” she whispered, and Byron could barely hear her above the city noises.

“We both need this, McKenzie. Quit fighting it.” He wasn’t normally a man to beg, but right now he was almost willing to drop to his knees if that’s what it took to get her to come home with him.

“It doesn’t matter, Byron. I’m used to denying myself what I need,” she said, a sad smile on her lips.

“You can only deny yourself for so long before you simply fade away,” he told her.

“I think I’ll take the risk,” she said. He moved toward her, but she backed up, turned away toward the parking garage next to the building, and made her escape.

Yes, he could have chased her down and probably kissed her into submission long enough to get them both satisfaction, possibly even on the hood of her car, but for some reason he didn’t go after her. She’d said no. As much as he didn’t want to, he needed to respect that.

He went into his building with heavy feet. If he wasn’t going to get laid, he would work until his eyes hurt, and if that didn’t do the trick, he’d leave and beat himself up in his home gym.

Yes, he wanted to bed McKenzie, but what surprised him was that he didn’t want to destroy the woman anymore. Why not? It couldn’t possibly be because he was growing attached to her. Byron refused to attach himself to anyone.

Especially a woman who had a secret or possibly many secrets. A woman who’d run a bordello. That was nothing but trouble.