L.A. Confidential (15 page)

She watched as Ken kissed the little bimbo, her camera whirring as it took shot after shot. Her temper flared with each passing frame, and she considered climbing the hill to confront the two of them. Lisa Neal didn't belong with Ken. She didn't deserve him.

She held back, of course. She had a plan, after all, and she didn't intend to get carried away and screw up her possibilities.

She patted the camera, a smile touching her lips. Ken Harper would let her into that restaurant, of that she was certain.

 

“Y
OU'RE IN LOVE
, my friend,” Tim announced as Ken hobbled into the office at the crack of dawn.

He ran his hands over his face, rubbing slightly to try to wake himself up. “What are you doing here?”

From his seat at the worktable, Tim shot him a “duh” look. “Inventory. You remember. All the little details it takes to keep this restaurant operating like a well-oiled machine.”

“Right. Of course.” He shook his head, trying to shake off exhaustion. “Sorry. Not all here yet.”

“Long night?”

“Wonderful night,” Ken said, knowing he was grinning like an idiot. He'd started out wanting to punish her and ended up wanting to cherish her. His entire plan had flipped one-hundred-and-eighty degrees. Control was like a long, lost dream. Instead, he was spinning out into the stratosphere.

Losing himself inside Lisa had been everything he'd dreamed it would be. Miraculous. Stunning.
Life-changing.
After kissing her good-night at her door, he'd crawled to his own suite, then spent the rest of the night pacing.

“You didn't answer me,” Tim said. “You're a man in love.”

“I didn't know it was a question.” He settled in behind his desk and started rummaging through the paperwork.

“Ah, but you didn't disagree, either.”

Ken leaned back, the leather of his desk chair creaking. “Nothing to argue about.” He knew the smile on his face was coming through in his voice.

“Man, what did I tell you?”

“You were right.” It felt good to say it out loud. “I love her. I still do. I guess I always have.”

“I knew revenge wasn't your game.”

“It's not. But I'm not sure love is, either.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing.” He gestured loosely in the air. “I don't mean anything.”

That was a lie, of course. He'd switched from wanting to punish her to wanting to love her. The anger that had started out as a lump in his stomach had completely dissolved.

And that meant there was nothing to hold on to. No safety net. He was fully exposed and flying blind. Because the truth of it was, while he might be falling in love, he had absolutely no idea how Lisa felt.

For her, this could be just a game. Sex games, she'd called it that first night. He wouldn't know how she felt until he told her he loved her. And he wouldn't know if she'd stay until he asked her to.

“T
HIS PLACE IS AMAZING
.” Lisa turned in a circle in the garden of the Greystone Mansion. Once a private residence, the stately building and grounds were now a public park. “Are you sure it's not one of the locations you have in mind for the movie?”

“Nope. This one's just for you and me.”

She smiled up at him. “Thank you. I love it here.”

“It's one of my favorite places to come when I want to just walk around and think.” Taking her hand, he led her through the garden to the koi pond. The giant fish glided through the water, darting among the lily pads and water flowers.

“It must have been fabulous when someone lived in it. I bet the owner was a movie star or director.” She tugged at his hand, urging him to a nearby window. “And they threw fabulous parties,” she continued, smiling playfully. “And girls in flapper dresses danced the Charleston to a live band playing in the ballroom.”

“I bet you're right.” He laughed, pulling her around to face him, then planting a kiss right on her mouth. He would have liked to live someplace like that himself.
Actually, he would have been happy with someplace smaller. A little yard, maybe a pond in the backyard. But that was an old dream, one he'd abandoned five years ago.

“I'm always right.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Are you?”

“Well. I'm always right about the things I'm right about.”

Lord, he loved this woman. It felt good to acknowledge, even if only to himself. He pulled her even closer, burying his kisses in her hair. “You're insane. You know that, don't you?”

She leaned back long enough to flash him a winning smile. “I think the word you're looking for is eccentric.”

“Oh, is that it?”

She punched him playfully in the arm.

“Well,” he said, “you may be eccentric, but I'm hungry.”

“And…”

“And it just so happens I have a picnic basket in the trunk of the car.”

It was her turn to laugh, then plant a kiss on him. “Did you spend hours planning the perfect afternoon? Or does it just come naturally to you?”

“Which answer would impress you most?”

She didn't answer and neither did he. Instead they headed to the car, retrieved the basket and sheet he'd thrown into the trunk, then returned to the grounds to set up.

“There's a picnic table over there.” He pointed across the grounds to a stone table and bench.

Shaking her head, she spread the sheet out on the grass. “This is more traditional.”

“Fair enough. As long as we don't have to invite the ants.”

As they got comfortable on the sheet, laughing and talking as they dug into the wonderful sandwiches and fruit salad that Tim had prepared, Ken was certain he'd made the right decision coming here. This was nice. Normal. Romantic.

“So, why'd you give up on the diner?”

He looked up, startled. She was lying on her back, eating grapes. Now she turned her head to look at him more directly.

“You were so enthusiastic before…before I left. Why didn't you do it?”

“I don't know. Lack of interest, I guess.”

“Oh.” She frowned.

“I mean, Oxygen was doing so well. It seemed silly to branch out so differently.”

“But you'd always talked about it. Someplace your mom would have loved.”

“Yes, well, I lost my enthusiasm.”

Little wrinkles appeared on her forehead as she frowned. “Because of me?”

He considered lying to her, but she deserved better than that. “A lot of reasons, but, yes, you were one.” He'd realized after Lisa had walked away how much that diner had been for
them
as much as a tribute to his parents. He'd wanted someplace that felt like the home he'd lost when his parents had died. But he'd realized it wouldn't feel like a real home once she had gone, and had abandoned the diner project and moved into the
Bellisimo. The old saying was right—you couldn't go home again.

Her hand closed over his. “I'm sorry.”

“I know you are. I understand.”

Her brow furrowed. “Do you? Do you really?”

“I think so.” He shifted, then propped himself up an elbow as he looked at her. “I loved you. You know that, don't you?”

She nodded, her eyes downcast.

“And when you left, it ripped me to shreds.” He took a deep breath. “But I don't think you loved me, too. Did you?”

Her eyes met his, and he could see the tears hanging on her lashes. “I don't know. I just…” She shook her head. “I told myself I didn't love you. I couldn't love you.”

“Because of your career.”

“It means everything to me.”

Means or meant?
He almost asked, but decided to leave that question for another day. “I know. I always understood your ambition.” He grinned. “Under the circumstances, how could I not?”

“I know. That's one of the things about you I loved.”

“So there was a little love there.”

She blushed. “More than a little. I was just afraid to admit it. And after I left…” She shrugged. “Well, then I was afraid you hated me.”

He shook his head. “I tried. But no. I could never hate you. I wanted to.” He grinned, trying to lighten the moment. “The most I managed was extremely pissed off.”

“Extremely, huh?”

“Maybe more than extremely.”

A slight smile touched her lips. “And now?”

He sat up and took her hand. “A lot of things have changed in the past few days.” He nodded toward the picnic basket. “And if we're going to make a dent in this food, we'd better start working harder.”

She accepted the change of subject, opening up the picnic basket and passing him another sandwich. “I talked to Winston. He's impressed with all the places I've locked in. And I've been faxing him notes on the script, too. He said they were really useful. I think he's pretty pleased with me overall.”

“He should be. You've worked hard. What places have you locked in?”

She started counting out on her fingers. “The pier. I talked to the city about getting a permit and that won't be any problem. And Maria's. I called her yesterday, and she's thrilled. And I even locked in your competition—that place with the big band.”

“That's great.”

“And, of course, I got Oxygen, which impresses Winston most of all.”

“I know. I think he's been impressed since day one.”

A wave of confusion passed over her face. “What do you mean?”

He told her about Alicia Duncan, and her assumption that Lisa had slept her way into Oxygen.

“But, Ken! She's right!” She stood and started pacing, her hands twisting knots in her I Love L.A. T-shirt. “I can't afford another scandal. Not after Tyrell. Not when I'm just starting to get my career back on track.”

He was on his feet and at her side immediately. “Hey, shh. It'll be okay. Alicia's source has to be someone who talks with Winston, so unless you told him, Alicia
doesn't know. Not really. That's just the way her mind works. And I told her if she printed anything derogatory about you, not only would she never film inside Oxygen, but I'd see her in court.”

She flashed him a watery smile. “You really said that?”

“I meant it, too.”

“Thanks.”

“It will be okay. Really. Alicia's just grasping at straws, trying to find a way to get to me through you.” He turned her around, then urged her chin up with the tip of his finger. “I won't let anything happen to you. Okay?”

She sniffed and blinked, but nodded. “Okay.”

He smiled, trying to lighten the moment. “And speaking of sex scandals…”

“What?”

“I want to apologize for last night.”

Pure confusion lined her face. “Are you nuts? I had a fabulous time.”

“Yeah? Well, so did I.”

“Then why the apology?”

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “It was just so…urgent. You deserve better. Wine and roses. Not lust and…well, lust.”

She laughed, all evidence of her earlier worries evaporating. “You're priceless.” She stepped closer, then ran her hands through his hair before brushing her lips over his. “Last night was wonderful. And sometimes lust and lust is everything a girl needs.”

“I'm glad to hear that,” he whispered. “Even so, I'd like to make it up to you.”

“You would?” Her voice was breathless, the desire in her eyes electric.

“Oh, yes.” He slipped his arm around her waist, stroking the soft flesh under the hem of her shirt and wishing he could touch every smooth inch of her right then.

She smiled. “Who am I to argue, especially if it gets me wine and roses?”

 

“K
EN, THIS IS LOVELY
, but you shouldn't.” The necklace was amazing—a diamond-studded heart pendant on a simple gold chain. She let it dangle from her fingers, the facets catching the light from the display case and sending rainbows shooting across the room. “It's too much.”

“I want to.”

She swallowed, feeling spoiled and cherished. “I should say no. I should turn it down.”

Gently he took the necklace from her hand, then looped it around her neck and fastened the clasp. Immediately her hand went to her throat, covering the pendant as tears came to her eyes.

“But you won't,” he said. “You won't, because you know I want you to have it.”

She nodded, unable to speak.

He turned to the salesclerk. “I think that's a yes.”

“It's very lovely,” the clerk said.

“Not as lovely as the woman wearing it.”

She couldn't quite meet his eyes, sure that if she did, she'd burst into tears, as if her body couldn't hold in the whirlwind of emotions and needed release.

As he steered her out to the lobby bar, she managed a smile that she hoped conveyed how happy he'd made
her—how happy he'd made her for the past few days now.

“I feel like a princess. I thought I was supposed to get roses, not diamonds.”

His smile was pure sin. “Ah, well, the roses are in my room.”

“Oh, really?” She cocked an eyebrow as she sank into a wonderfully overstuffed leather armchair.

“Really.” He stroked her cheek, and she turned her head toward him, wanting to prolong the contact. Everything she used to feel had flooded back—everything and more. Before, she'd managed to keep up barriers, to stop herself from falling too hard. And that distance had given her the strength to walk away.

Now she was falling hard and fast, like Alice down the rabbit hole. And the truth of it was, she didn't mind. She wanted to fall, wanted to fall right into Ken's arms. And the miracle of it was he seemed to want it, too. After everything she'd done, after all the ways she'd hurt him, he loved her still.

True, he hadn't said so. But he almost had. And nothing in the world would make her believe he was simply playing a revenge game. Maybe he'd started out with that goal—maybe they both had—but somewhere along the way things had changed. Somehow, she'd gotten Ken back.

She'd come back for her career, and she'd found love. She didn't know if she could make the two fit together, but she could enjoy what they had now, and worry about that later.

Ken must have signaled the waitress, because she arrived with two glasses of wine. “You okay?” He passed her a glass. “You look pensive.”

“Just tired.” That wasn't a lie. She
was
tired. She'd spent the whole night reliving their encounter above Mulholland, getting herself far too worked up to sleep.

“Rough night?” A knowing smile touched his lips.

She met his eyes, her own smile matching his. “I had things other than sleep on my mind.”

“I know what you mean.” His hand roamed up her thigh. “You should have worn the dress.”

A bubble of laughter rose in her throat. “For a picnic?”

His fingers crept higher, heat spreading through her despite the thick denim of her jeans. “I shouldn't have told you where we were going. Maybe you would have worn a skirt.” His devilish grin made it to his eyes. “Even on no sleep, I still have other things on my mind.”

“Ken…” Her cheeks warmed, and she cast a glance around to see if they had an audience. “Anyone might see.”

“So let them look. They'll just be jealous. Unless…”

Something in his voice piqued her interest. “Unless what?”

“Unless you'd care to go someplace more private?”

“Someplace?”

He stood up, his hand reaching to help her up. “Your place or mine?”

She swallowed, somehow knowing that this was the biggest step of all. They'd had sex on the bench last night. There'd been emotion there, true, but it had been lust and lust, just as Ken had said. Fabulous, but still the direct result of his torment of her over the past few days. He'd teased and tempted, and they'd both finally exploded.

Things had changed between them. She knew that, felt it in her heart. But if she took his hand now—if she went upstairs with him—they wouldn't have sex; they'd make love. And that would be like admitting it out loud.

Lifting her head, she met his eyes. Deep blue, they hid a lot. But he couldn't hide the truth. He wanted this as much as she did. He loved her, and he wouldn't hurt her.

She only hoped that, at the end of the day, she wouldn't hurt him again.

 

“Y
OU'RE BEAUTIFUL
,” he said, delighted with the blush that rose on her cheeks.

“You make me feel beautiful.”

“Good.” He pulled her to him, then wrapped his arm around her waist. He wanted to make love to her all night, wanted to convince her with his touches that he loved her. And most of all he wanted her to say she loved him, wanted to hear it out loud. “Can I give you the grand tour?”