Vengeful in Love (19 page)

Time stood still for a moment, and Kerri stared. The scene reminded her of what her family had lost because of her, and the time away hadn’t done a thing to dim the memory.

The brunette and her family started walking off. Drawing in a breath, Kerri tore her gaze from their retreating backs. Less than an hour back on U.S. soil, and she had to see that.

Oh well. Shaking her head, she scanned the waiting crowd for her best friend Natalie Hall…no, it was Natalie Damon now. She’d recently married one of the richest and most successful businessmen in America. Kerri had wanted to cab it from the airport, but Natalie had insisted.

I’m not letting my BFF take a taxi. Stay put for a pickup. Or else!

A frown creased Kerri’s forehead as she scanned the area. She couldn’t spot Natalie’s familiar Asian face with its quick smile and warm dark eyes.

Maybe Natalie had needed to leave. The flight was more than an hour late. A newly-wedded woman probably had better things to do—like seducing her husband—than waiting for a friend’s super-late plane to land.

Kerri looked around some more and noticed a sign with her name scrawled on it in block letters. She raised her eyes to the man holding it and blinked. He had his head angled away, but a vague sense of familiarity tugged at her as heat curled in her belly. The way his charcoal-gray Savile Row suit hung on his frame said not only did he work out, but the body underneath didn’t have an ounce of excess fat. Her lips parted slightly as she tried to draw in more air to clear her suddenly foggy head.

Where had she seen him before?

His ensemble—the suit, discreet watch, platinum ring on his right middle finger and gleaming shoes—probably cost more than what most limo drivers made in a year.

No way he’s my chauffeur
.

Was this Natalie’s idea of a joke…or help?

Kerri had everything except…well, a job, a home and a man. The first two were recent phenomena that hadn’t made the gossip circuit yet—so she still had time to rectify them before word got around—but the last one was common knowledge among her friends and acquaintances. She wouldn’t put it past Natalie to fix it. Fix her.

After all, Natalie was a woman in love. Who believed in the power of love.

Well, she’d have to do better if she wanted to recruit Kerri into the cult. She believed in many things, but love wasn’t one of them. Actually, that wasn’t technically true. She did believe in love. Just didn’t think it was for her.

Dragging her lone suitcase, she approached the supposed chauffeur. Whatever he’d done to deserve this, it was time to end his misery. She wanted to check in and unpack her stuff for the week she was planning to stay in Virginia. Then she could figure out her next step.

“Hi.” Despite her five-foot-nine height plus stiletto sandals, she had to tilt her chin upward to address him directly. “I’m Kerri Wilson.”

He held up a long, strong finger without turning to face her. It had a small white scar running diagonally down the fleshy pad. “Gotta go. We’ll finish this later,” he said.

The voice was low and matter-of-fact. But it intensified the sense of familiarity she’d felt earlier and made her toes curl. Good lord. He could’ve said, “I like eggs,” and her toes would still have scrunched up like shrimp tails.

For god’s sake, Kerri, get a grip!

In the last seven years, she’d never sighed over a man, lusted after one or wanted one with any degree of intensity. They’d been a nice addition to her life when she could spare the time and energy necessary to manage a romantic relationship in addition to the dozens of responsibilities on her plate. The result? Exactly three boyfriends since college.

Of course, she no longer had the job that had kept her so busy. Serendipity?

He turned around and the world seemed to go into slow motion. She noticed a small black earpiece, eyelashes whose length made her slightly jealous…and then a face that could cause a riot in a nunnery. All the air rushed out of her lungs as she stared at the blue eyes that belonged to Ethan, the only man who’d made her succumb to a white-hot passion one foolish night. The only man who’d succeeded in tempting her to be irresponsible.

And what a night she’d had in his arms.

The eyes narrowed as he studied her. The full intensity of his gaze prickled her skin. She had the oddest feeling that he was trying to see through her dove gray baby tee and short denim skirt. It wasn’t anything as clichéd as trying to strip her with his eyes. That she could handle. He was trying to see beneath her skin.

Sweat slickened her palms. She felt terribly exposed, especially without her power suit, but she couldn’t seem to erect a barrier fast enough to keep herself insulated.

Men never looked at her like this, like they wanted to see her soul.

Why would he want to do that? It had just been one night. And he’d known the terms of the deal.

She had to be imagining things. Most likely she was just tired from the trans-Pacific flight. He probably didn’t even remember her. Men like Ethan had harems full of willing women at their disposal.

“Jacqueline?” he whispered.

So much for him not remembering their night toge—

“No, wait.” He glanced down at the sign he was holding. “You said Kerri Wilson.”

She nodded, unable to speak. He’d become even more arresting since their one-night stand seven years ago. His voice had deepened, age and experience adding a dark timber to his tone; his body was wider, thicker through the shoulders, more powerful. Her body, meanwhile, was busy recalling every deliciously wicked thing he’d done. The flesh between her legs tightened, reminding her how long it’d been since she’d had any.

“Which one’s the real name?” he asked.

“Both,” she said faintly. “Jacqueline’s my middle name.” She’d gone by a different name in college to distance herself from her family, just in case they’d cared enough to…what? Come visit? Check up on her?

Yeah, right.

After graduation, she’d gone back to Kerri. It didn’t matter what she called herself. Never had.

He shook his head. “No wonder.”

“No wonder what?”

“Nothing.” His tone said anything but that, but the firm line of his mouth indicated the topic was closed.

“You’re still Ethan, I presume?”

“Correct. I don’t usually give out my middle name to people I’m about to sleep with.”

An awkward silence stretched. Her heartbeat skittered as more people moved past them. She didn’t want to dredge up the past.

Well, it didn’t matter what Ethan did with people he was about to sleep with. She’d never owed him anything, including her real name. She swallowed and forced a light tone. “Shall we?”

“Of course.” He glanced at her suitcase. “Is that all?”

“I had my other bags Fed Ex’d to my hotel.” She’d gotten one of the analysts to do the honors of sending her
real
bags directly to Virginia under a managing director’s name. Then at Hong Kong International Airport she’d checked two large empty suitcases, and as soon as US customs cleared them in Dulles she’d handed them to the airline luggage workers and hit the ladies’ room to change. The private investigators would report everything to her family in great detail. It was important they didn’t know what she was up to—that she was leaving Hong Kong for good.

Ethan nodded. “May I?”

He put his hand over hers on the smooth luggage handle. The instant of skin-to-skin contact felt shockingly good. Precisely because of this, she pulled away as if scalded.

He tossed the sign into the nearest trash can and led her into the parking structure, one hand dragging her bag and the other on her elbow, the contact courteous yet somehow more than that. He moved with confidence and an animal grace that said he was utterly comfortable in his body. This close, she could smell mouth-watering warm dark spice and male flesh. She wanted to lean into him, just melt against his towering height and strength. The thought sent a fissure of shock through her. This wasn’t like her.

On the other hand, Ethan wasn’t like any of the other men she’d dealt with.

Men didn’t crowd her like this. When they came to her, it was because they needed something impersonal, such as an opinion on a merger or help with a spreadsheet. Even the ones she’d dated wouldn’t have taken her arm after she’d withdrawn a hand, not without an encouraging signal from her first, which she hadn’t always given. Relationships, when she had them, required careful planning and management.

Ethan had triggered her finely honed radar for unsuitable men. He would not only demand at least fifty percent input on both the planning and management, but expect more than what she was comfortable giving. As tempting as he was, those two things disqualified him from the pool of potential dating candidates, which was why she’d snuck out the morning after their one-night stand.

A subsequent encounter with a friend of his had further confirmed she’d made the right choice.

He wants you. Come on, Jacqueline. You work your ass off for shitty pay. He’s fucking loaded. Why not give him a call and see where things go?

Had either of them thought so poorly of her? That she’d date a man so she could live the easy life?

Working every second of her free time to pay for her college education hadn’t meant she was in need of a sugar daddy. If she’d wanted easy money, she would’ve run to her family. They redefined the term
loaded
.

Kerri shook off the memory. No point in letting it bother her. If Natalie thought Ethan was good enough to pick her up, then everything was cool. Natalie was an excellent judge of character. She’d probably sent Ethan for his mad driving skills.

They reached a shiny black BMW with temporary tags and he opened the door for her, then picked up her suitcase like it was loaded with helium and put it in the trunk. So. All that new muscle wasn’t just for show.

She settled into the soft seat. Her fingertips tingled as they brushed over the smooth, luxurious leather. His car didn’t have any personal clutter, not even a single receipt. But then it had that new car smell. He probably just hadn’t had a chance to put his mark on it yet.

He got in, closing the door with a solid
thunk
, and turned the engine on. A powerful purr vibrated through her skirt.

The pleasant, warmly slick feeling between her legs must be from that, not from Mr. Gorgeous sitting next to her. No, not quite sitting, but not slumping either. She couldn’t come up with an exact term for the posture, but he looked sort of boneless and utterly relaxed in his seat.

“You’re at the Marriott, right?” he asked, maneuvering his car out of the parking garage. His large hands hooked casually around the steering wheel.

“Yeah, the one not too far from Natalie’s.” She checked her phone and rattled off the address. “Guess she told you?”

He nodded.

“So, what are you?” She wanted to understand the mystery that was Ethan. If she knew, maybe she wouldn’t respond to him so strongly. It had to be the process of solving a puzzle that was intriguing her, not the puzzle itself.

He glanced over. She almost tugged on the hem of her skirt. Wearing the feminine clothing had seemed to make perfect sense earlier, when her primary objective was to lose the PIs her family had sicced on her. They’d never seen her in anything but power suits—with trousers, of course.

She hated how the skirt left her legs three-quarters bare and the baby tee clung to her torso. She couldn’t have felt more exposed if she’d been sitting next to Ethan in her underwear.

His lips twitched in a suppressed smile as though he knew how much his presence unbalanced her. “What am I? I’m the guy who’s picking you up from the airport.”

“You’re not a driver,” she said, deciding to focus on anything but her discomfiture. The drive would end soon enough, then she could change into something that would shield her better. “You’re also not Natalie’s friend because I would’ve heard about you. So I’ll ask again: what are you?”

He chuckled. “I was the best man at her wedding.”

Which probably made him the groom’s best friend. Since Natalie’s husband, Alex Damon, was one of the richest men in the world, Ethan must also be a member of the same upper echelon. Maybe “fucking loaded” hadn’t been an exaggeration. “Have the best man’s duties expanded to include picking up the bride’s friends from the airport weeks after the ceremony?”

“I owed her one.” His tone said the topic was finished. “And you?”

“I don’t owe her anything.”

He laughed. It was still the warm and rich sound she remembered. A dangerously seductive one too. It was part of the reason she’d succumbed to his charm.

“So what did you owe her?” she asked.

His eyes narrowed slightly, though the corners of his lips quirked. “I almost cost her her husband.”

“Wow.” This was totally unexpected. “Does Alex play for both teams?”

“Ah, no. It was a business thing. I told Alex she was involved in some corporate espionage, which he didn’t take kindly. We were certain—well, I was certain—that she was working for the enemy.”

Kerri gasped. “That’s ridiculous.”

He shrugged. “A monumental screw-up on my part, and I don’t screw up often.”

“Let me guess. She forgave you for everything until she decided she wanted you to do something for her.”

“Something like that.” He made a quick left turn. “Do you still play the violin?” he asked suddenly.

“No, I quit years ago. No time once I got into investment banking.”

“Natalie mentioned something about that. VP, right?”

“Actually…” She sighed. Well, she’d have to admit her unemployed status sooner or later. “I’m a bum at the moment. Between jobs.”

“A bum?” He gave her a quick once-over, head to toes. “I’m sure you could find work if you wanted.”

Her face warmed, and whatever thoughts she’d held in her mind evaporated. She couldn’t believe she was acting like a silly teenager with the captain of the football team. She was twenty-eight, far too old and sensible for these kinds of feelings. If anybody other than Ethan had made the comment, she might have rolled her eyes or arched an eyebrow in silent reprimand.