L.A. Confidential (16 page)

“I'd like that.”

With Lisa's arm linked through his, he walked her through the living area, then into the kitchen.

“Awfully small for the famous Ken Harper, restaurateur extraordinaire.”

“Yeah, well, I keep my big kitchen down below.”

“Uh-huh.” She turned in a slow circle, her eyes taking in the two main rooms. He knew what she saw. The sterile rooms of a man who lived in a hotel. A week ago the rooms had seemed to fit him. Now, however, they just seemed claustrophobic.

“Ken?” She squeezed his hand. “Something wrong?”

“Not a thing.” He smiled, shaking off the mood.

“Well, I don't think we're quite done with the tour.” She licked her lips. “Are we?”

“No.” He stroked his finger across the back of her neck. “We've still got one more room. Would you like to see it?”

She didn't say anything, just stepped out of the kitchen and into the living area. “Are you coming?” She tossed the words back with a grin.

Oh, yes. He was coming. He caught up to her, and they walked through the doorway together. In front of him, the bed loomed. The maid had turned the spread back, and the bit of white sheet seemed to beckon.

He wanted Lisa on that bed, wanted to worship her with his body, wanted her to know how much had changed over the past few days and how much he still loved her.

Wordlessly, he led her to the bed, stroking her arms as she sat on the edge. Hooking a finger under the hem of her shirt, he urged it over her head until she was sitting in front of him in her jeans and a lacy bra. The sight of her nipples, taut against the peach-colored lace, set his blood to burning, and he felt himself harden as the tiny bit of control he'd been clinging to slipped through his fingers.

“Oh, baby.” Kneeling in front of her, he fumbled at the button on her jeans, then urged the zipper down. Her fingers splayed through his hair, caressing him, as her breaths came faster and faster.

When he urged her, she lifted her hips, and he pulled her jeans down. She kicked off her shoes and he freed
her from the denim, then pressed his face against the cool, soft skin of her inner thigh.

Turning his head, he urged her legs wider as he trailed kisses upward. As he reached the satin of her panties, he slipped his finger underneath, inching them down. Her breath quickened, her moans whispers against his ear as she lifted her hips to help him.

Her sweet musky scent enveloped him, making him giddy and dizzy with lust. He needed to taste her, to kiss her secret places and feel her writhe beneath his touch. He wanted to take her to the absolute height of pleasure, and then follow right after her.

He kissed her intimately, breathing in her erotic scent, as she gasped and squirmed beneath him.

“Ken…” Her voice was low, barely a whisper, but the passion came through loud and clear. “Oh, yes…yes…”

With one hand under her hips, he reached up with his other to stroke her breast. She arched against him, her body tense, and he knew she was close to the edge. He dipped his tongue lower, deeper, tasting and teasing her until, finally, she rocked beneath him, her own pleasure coming close to urging him over the edge himself.

He held her tight, and as she clung to him, he knew that, more than anything—more than his restaurant, more than his career—he wanted this woman in his life.

L
ISA TREMBLED
as Ken's arms closed around her. Right on the heels of making love to her with his mouth, he'd made love to her with his body, bringing her again over the edge while he'd held himself in check. She was completely and totally satisfied, and she squirmed against him, reveling in the way he pulled her close. “Your turn,” she murmured, wanting to show him with her body how much she felt in her heart.

“Sweetheart, I'd love for it to be my turn, but this is your evening.”

She rolled over, quirking a brow. “Doesn't seem quite fair,” she said, sliding her hand lower to see if he was still aroused. She found the hard length of him under the sheet and ran her fingers down, teasing him.

He sucked in a breath, the effort of concentration apparent on his face. “This was my gift to you, remember? To make up for…well…” His breath was ragged against her ear. “You know.”

“Oh, I know.” She slipped her hand under the sheet, feeling his velvety smoothness against her palm. “The
thing is, I was thinking about changing that little deal.”

She tightened her fingers around him, watching his face, watching the way he closed his eyes as control slipped away. A wave of power broke over her. He wanted her, and he was going crazy simply from her touch. She wanted to take him to the edge, needed to know she'd taken him there.

Slowly, she crawled on top of him, lowering her lips to his as their bodies, still slick from their earlier love-making, glided together.

She didn't want to wait, couldn't wait, and she lowered herself onto him, crying out when he thrust upward. As she rocked above him, never letting up the pace, giving him no chance to hold back, he drove deeper and deeper until both of them had reached the point of no return. Moving frantically to the same rhythm, they found release at the same exquisite moment. When the ripples of pleasure finally subsided, they collapsed against each other, warm and sated.

She rolled off him, and he spooned against her.

“I love you,” he said, the whisper of his voice soft against her neck.

She smiled against the pillow and tightened her grip on his arms that held her close. But even though she opened her mouth to say it back, the words wouldn't come. She was too scared of being wrong. Too scared of sacrificing everything she'd worked for.

And when she rolled over to face him, still silent, she saw the disappointment in his eyes. But she also saw hope. And seeing that, she knew she'd love him forever.

She gave him a tender kiss on the cheek, then rolled
back over, pressing her body against his. His arm closed around her, pulling her close, and she said a silent prayer that someday, sometime, she'd have the courage to tell him she loved him. The courage to say it out loud.

 

T
HEY'D FORGOTTEN
to close the curtains, and now the morning sun streamed through the window sheers, glinting off her hair, fanned over her pillow. Lost in sleep, she looked beautiful, her lips still moist and swollen from his kisses. Ken's fingers itched to touch her. To wake her up and sink into her once again. To make love to her over and over until she finally said the words back. Until she finally told him what he was already certain of—that she loved him.

But that wasn't something he could force or rush. He knew she loved him—knew it in his heart—but until she realized it herself, it would never be real. And for her to discover it, he needed to give her space and time to think.

He didn't want to leave her, but he'd been neglecting the restaurant long enough. Fighting every resisting muscle, he dragged himself out of bed. Not only was leaving her warmth torture, but after only three hours of sleep, leaving his bed—any bed—was pure torment.

Next to him, Lisa stirred, and the movement was almost enough to make him change his mind. He held his breath, knowing that if she so much as opened an eye or smiled in her sleep, he'd lose all self-control and crawl back under the covers, pull her close, and lose himself in her sweetness.

No.
He was a responsible business owner. About time he went and had a look at how his livelihood was faring in his absence.

Not that he was really concerned. His people were the best, and Tim could run Oxygen with his eyes closed. Still, Ken had never been comfortable delegating authority, and he'd left the day-to-day operations in someone else's hands long enough.

Quietly, so as not to wake her, he sat up, then padded naked to the closet. He rummaged in the semidarkness, needing to find something to wear but not wanting to disturb her.

Finally dressed, he headed to the door, pausing just long enough to look back at her.

“I love you, Lisa Neal,” he whispered. “So help me, I do.”

 

S
O HELP HIM
.

As soon as she heard the door click shut, Lisa rolled over, hugging her pillow to her chest. When she reached up to push her hair out of her face, her hand came away wet, and she realized she was crying.

She was making this so difficult. Lots of people juggled careers and family. But she wasn't most people. She knew herself. She wouldn't feel right—wouldn't feel whole—until she was certain her career was on the right track. And that wasn't something Ken could help with. And it certainly wouldn't be fair to him to tell him she loved him. What was love, after all, if she couldn't back it up with action? If she wasn't willing to give it her everything?

And she couldn't. Not now. She needed to make something of herself. If she backed away from her dreams for him—even just a little—she'd just end up resenting him. She'd seen it happen in her own family, and she didn't want it to happen to her. Not to Lisa Neal,
the girl who always accomplished whatever she set her mind to. For five years she'd been struggling, and now she had a real chance. She intended to hold on tight and not let go.

It just wasn't fair. Five years ago she was still young and naive enough to actually convince herself that she
didn't
love him. A lie, of course, but one she'd bought into. But she was older now. Smarter. Now she
knew
she loved him. Now she knew how terrifying love could be.

Sitting up, she wrapped the sheet around her, remembering the way his hands had felt on her.
Ken's hands.
Maybe she was selling him short. Of all the men in the world, Ken understood ambition. Maybe it could work. Maybe, together, they could make it work.

Or maybe she was just grasping at straws in the aftermath of passion.

The phone rang, and she reached for it, assuming it would be Ken. It wasn't.

“Ms. Neal?”

“Yes?” She frowned, wondering who on earth would have found her in Ken's room.

“This is the front desk. Mr. Harper left instructions to inform you if any messages were in your hotel voice mail. Shall I patch you in?”

“Yes, please.” An electronic beeping ensued, followed by a generic message, and then Winston's voice was asking her to call as soon as she was free.

Gnawing on her lip and wondering what current crisis he was facing, she hung up and immediately dialed New York.

“Lisa!” Winston's voice was just as exuberant over the phone as it was in person.

“What's up?”

“I've got a little proposition for you, my dear. I think you're going to like it.”

A chill raced up her spine, and a lump settled in her stomach. “Okay…”

“How'd you like to work for me, be a development exec here at Avenue F? You'd be my right hand. Office overlooking Central Park. Power to green-light my films. The whole nine yards.”

She held the receiver out and stared at the phone, trying to process what he'd just said.

“Lisa?” His voice, far away and tinny, seemed alarmed.

She yanked the phone back and pressed it to her ear, still unbelieving. “You want to hire me? At your production company? To work in Manhattan? With you?”

“I always knew you were a smart kid.”

“But…” She snapped her mouth shut, trying to decide if the room had always been spinning or if that was a new development. “Are you saying…” She took a deep breath and tried again. “You mean, you want to hire me permanently? Not just on the crew of
Velvet Bed II
? Read scripts? Develop projects? Go to work everyday to your offices across from Central Park?”

“That's it, kid. You know my assistant, Daniel?” He didn't wait for an answer. “Well, he got an offer from the BBC. He's moving to London and leaving me in a lurch. I thought of you, kid.”

“Me?”

“We'd be working close together. Daily meetings. That kind of thing. You'd be right in the thick of things. You interested?”

She pinched herself. Wondering if she was dreaming.
Winston was offering her exactly what she'd wanted—a development position. Power. Control. And at a stellar company with two Oscars under its belt. Avenue F had deals with all the major studios. She couldn't have crafted a better job if she tried.

“Why me?” She frowned, wondering if she was an idiot to question fate, but needing to know. “I mean, I had to beg you to give me a shot on just one movie.”

“You told me you were good. And now you've proved it. You've done a heck of a job lining up locations in Los Angeles. I like the notes you've sent back on the script. You've got good ideas about casting. I like what I see.”

“And?”

He chuckled. “And I checked you out a little bit more. You're right. You're one of the ones Tyrell screwed. So what do you say? You wanna make movie history?”

She certainly did. And she opened her mouth to say yes. But something held her back. “I need… Can I call you tomorrow?”

She held her breath, afraid he'd tell her to take it or leave it, now or never. Instead he just said, “Sure.”

She hung up, exhaling in relief and not at all sure what she'd just done or why'd she'd done it. All she knew for certain was that she needed to see Ken.

W
HEN HE UNLOCKED THE DOOR
to his office and stepped inside, Ken was in a perfectly good mood. Two seconds later Alicia walked through the doorway, and his entire day went to hell.

“Not now, Alicia. I'm really not in the mood to argue with you.”

“Good.” She threw her purse on his desk and sat in a chair, facing him dead-on. “Because I really don't think you should be arguing.”

He rubbed his hands over his face, wishing he'd stayed in bed with Lisa. “What do you want now, Alicia?”

“Same thing I wanted before. And when I'm done, you're going to wish you'd agreed from day one.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Ken, sweetie, a picture is worth a thousand words.” She rummaged in her tote bag, finally emerging with a manila folder. She slid it across the desk to him.

Black-and-white glossy photos. He and Lisa. On Mulholland. And it was very, very obvious what they were doing.

“So?” He hoped he sounded calm, despite the pounding of his heart in his chest.

“So, I wonder how pleased Miss Neal or Mr. Miller will be to see these pictures published in
Variety
or the
Hollywood Reporter
? I can see the headline now— ‘Avenue F Location Scout Uses Unique Methods To Close Deals.'”

“You wouldn't.”

Her smile was icy. “Come on, Ken. You know me better than that. I most certainly would.”

He ran his hands through his hair, then thumbed through the photos. Lisa couldn't afford another scandal, especially not one that centered around her. She'd already lost years of her career because of the Tyrell debacle. Ken didn't intend to let her career die because of another scandal, not one that he caused.

Dammit, he loved Lisa, even more than before, if that were possible. And he'd do anything in his power to see that she didn't get hurt.

He took a deep breath, knowing exactly what he was giving up. “Okay. You win.”

“I always win,” she purred, her supercilious smile making him almost reconsider.

“When we open the restaurant up to film the movie, why don't you shoot an episode of your show here? That way you not only get to air the first shot of the inside of Oxygen, but you can interview some of the cast and crew of
The Velvet Bed
, too.”

She cocked her head, as if looking for the hitch. “That's it? No strings? You're just going to let me film here? Open access, plus the movie? Film whatever I want and talk to whomever I want?”

“One string.”

“I knew it.”

“You return the photos and the negatives. You sign an agreement to never disclose what you saw.”

“These photos are one heck of a story.”

“No, they're not. They're trash journalism. And I'm betting you don't want to go there.”

Her mouth thinned as she inspected her fingernails. “Tell me this, then. Why?”

He scowled. “Why what?”

“For five years, you've kept this place more secure than the Pentagon. Now suddenly you're opening it up to a film crew, and to me. It goes entirely against everything you've done over your whole career.”

“I think my career will survive. It'll lose a little mystique, sure. But I'll gain some publicity.” He shrugged, deciding maybe he even believed that. “Doesn't matter, anyway. My career's not my primary concern right now.”

Her mouth thinned. “She's not worth it. She's a little tramp, not even worth worrying about. And your career will be safe. She's the one who'll be smeared. She's using you, Ken. Don't you see that? I only want to protect you.”

“She's not using me, Alicia. I love her. I always have.”

Alicia flinched, and he understood. Jealousy. “There's nothing between us, Alicia. You and me. There never was.”

“Of course there was, Kenny.” She smiled, her teeth dazzling for the camera. “We were perfect together.”

“No. I'm sorry. We had some nice times, but there's nothing there.”

She ran her tongue over her lips, her eyes not meeting
his. “You don't love me—don't even care for me—and yet you love this Lisa person?”

“I love her.”

She tossed her head back, her thick coat of makeup catching the light. “She's not worth it, you know.”

“Well, that's where you and I disagree.” He held out his hand. “The pictures?”

He could practically see the wheels turning—weighing a fit of jealous revenge against a stellar career opportunity. “All right,” she said finally. “It's a deal. No story, no photos.”

“Thank you. And for the record, if a stray photo or comment gets out, I'll sue you for every last dime you have.”

“Why, Kenny, and here I thought we were friends.”

“I mean it.” He smiled, trying to take the edge off his words. He wasn't sure he completely trusted Alicia, but he did know that she wouldn't do anything to risk her own reputation, which meant, at least for now, Lisa was safe.

“She doesn't love you, you know. Lisa Neal loves herself.” Her sardonic smile caught him by surprise. “Trust me, sweetie. I know the type.”

“She's not like you.” But he wasn't so sure. She'd left him for her career once before. Did he really think she'd changed so much? They'd had a few nice moments, sure, but did he really think that gave him the world?

He shook his head, frustrated. He wanted to believe in Lisa and, dammit, he would. “Anyway, it doesn't matter. I love her. It's not a give-and-take situation. I'm doing this for her. And because you got in the middle, it looks like you're reaping some of the benefit.”

“That's my job, Kenny. To be right in the middle of it.”

“The photos?”

She nodded toward the manila envelope. “Keep them.”

“I mean it. Not one word.”

“You're not even going to tell your little Lisa?”

“What? That a reporter photographed her half-naked on a bench above Mulholland Drive? I don't think she needs to know that.”

Alicia pushed her chair back and stood. She gave him a long, hard look, then shook her head, bemused.

“What?”

“I just can't figure you out.”

He half smiled. “I didn't realize you were trying to.”

“Five years ago, everyone said you were a small-town Texas innocent who managed to pick up some business savvy. Now I'm thinking maybe you're just an old-fashioned nice guy.”

“Not something we need to be debating.”

“No, it's not.” She swung her purse over her shoulder. “Because the fact is, in a town like this, if you're just a nice guy, you're screwed.”

 

E
ROTIC PICTURES
above Mulholland?

Lisa's stomach churned, wondering if it could really be true. She was standing just outside Ken's door, and now slipped further away as Alicia strolled past, jauntily swinging her purse from one finger.

Pictures. Of her and Ken. Oh, Lord, it couldn't be true. And yet it was. She'd heard the discussion, saw the photos pass between them. A wave of coldness swept
over her, and she hugged herself, terrified she'd come so close to another scandal.

Raw fury pumped through her veins. Ken's little bargain had put her in a terrible position—trading sex for services. What had he been thinking?

No.
Not Ken.
She'd
put herself in the position. She could have said no. But she'd wanted it, wanted Ken. She'd been a fool, a damn fool. And someone who'd already been through one scandal should know enough to not get burned twice.

Leaning over, she propped her hands on her knees and took deep, calming breaths. Another scandal. Oh, Lord, how could she survive another scandal?

Except there wasn't going to be a scandal. Her heart slowed to its normal pace as reality set in. No scandal. She was safe. Ken had rescued her. He'd saved her reputation. She wasn't certain exactly what had happened, but she knew one thing for sure—he'd made a decision this morning, and he'd put her above his career. The knowledge humbled her, and scared her.

She needed to make the same kind of decision, and soon. But she didn't know if she had his strength or his confidence. He'd said his career would still be fine. She wished she could believe the same thing about hers. If she let herself love Ken—

She stopped the thought. The truth was, she already
did
love Ken. So, the question was, if she
admitted
she loved him, if they started a relationship, could she keep her career on track?

He'd taken a risk for her letting Alicia film inside his restaurant. She nibbled her lower lip, wanting to take a risk for him—for love—but her fear held her back. And
in the end, she simply stood there as silent tears rolled down her cheeks.

 

T
HE REAL ESTATE AGENT
stopped in front of the blue bungalow with the white-painted trim and turned to Ken. “Here we are.”

He stepped out of the car, then stood on the grass, staring at the cottage. For almost five years he'd lived in the hotel, with no urge to move back into a house, to have a normal life.

But suddenly he couldn't keep thoughts of a home—a real home—out of his head. These past few days with Lisa had made him realize how much he'd given up when she'd left. A home. A family. Even his simple dream of opening a diner.

The agent paused at the door to look back at him, a quizzical expression on her face. “Mr. Harper?”

“Sorry. I'm coming.”

The inside of the house was as charming as the outside, and it took only a half hour of looking around to know that he wanted to buy the place.

“Can you have an offer drawn up by tonight?”

The agent's eyes went wide, but she nodded. “Of course.”

“Good.” He felt better. He was making decisions, getting things done.

He wanted to live in the house with Lisa, and he hoped like hell she'd agree. But even if she didn't, it was time he started living his life like a life again.

It was a lesson he'd learned the hard way. He only hoped that, over the past five years, Lisa had learned the same thing.

 

B
Y THE TIME
Ken got back to his suite, Lisa had pretty much paced a hole in the carpet.

“Where'd you go?”

“No place special.” A curious smile touched his lips. “I just bought a little house in Santa Monica.”

“You bought a house?” She couldn't help the delighted laugh that escaped. “Just like that, you bought a house?”

“Yup. A little blue cottage on one of those streets you think are so cute.” He shrugged. “Actually, I just made an offer. But I think the owners will accept it.”

“I…why?”

“A lot of reasons. Mostly, I want a life.” In two long strides he was by her side and holding her hands. “I want one with you.”

She swallowed, her chest tightening. “With me?”

“I love you, Lisa. I want you to stay with me.”

Her heart swelled. He'd said it before, but that was in the heat of passion. Now to hear him say it, to say he wanted a life with her…

A wave of happiness washed over, only to be followed by the crush of reality. The past was repeating itself, and in her purse she had a plane ticket for New York.

“I…but…” Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself. “You should have talked to me first. You can't just buy us a house—”

“Me. I bought me a house.”

“But you said…”

“I said I love you. I said I want a life with you. But if you say no, I'm still moving. I've been in limbo for five years. It's time I started living again—living my life, not just my job. And, Lisa, the truth is, I can do both.”

She pressed her lips together, fighting another round
of tears. She'd been mulling it over for hours, and the decision she'd finally made wasn't any easier now than it had been an hour ago. “Can you? Can you get where you want to be and still have a relationship? Can you do that and not resent me for taking time away from your ambitions?”

“I'm already where I want to be.”

She nodded. “And that's the problem. Don't you see? I never made it like you did. I never tasted success and I want the chance. It's what I've always wanted, and I'm not prepared to give it up.”

“Do you have to give it up if we're together?”

“I…I do love you. So much I…” A tear rolled down her cheek and she wiped it away. “But I don't want to end up resenting you. I couldn't live with that.” She took a deep breath, wishing she could make him understand how difficult it was for her. How much she needed to focus in order to succeed. “I—I'm thinking about heading back to New York.”

For just a moment his brow furrowed before his face cleared. “I thought you were looking to move back here.”

“I was.” She had been. But Winston's opportunity was too good to pass up. She shrugged. “I figured I needed to be here to get my career back on track. I was wrong.”

“What happened?”

“Winston. He offered me a job as a development executive. Avenue F is a major company. It's exactly what I've wanted.”

“So that's it? You're just going to go back to New York? Forget about everything that's happened between us?”

Her eyes burned, but she refused to cry. “I'll never forget these past few days. But I also never lied to you. You've known from the day I got here what my priority is.”

“Sweetheart, I've known from before then. And I see your priorities haven't changed.”

“And yours have?” The minute she said the words, she regretted it. His priorities
had
changed. Just that morning he'd saved her reputation and agreed to open his restaurant to that horrible Alicia woman.

“Yeah, they have.” He took her hand, urging her to sit next to him on the couch. “Sweetheart, why? Why not stay here? Just a couple of days ago, you were telling me how much you miss Los Angeles.”