Close to the Edge

by Kylie Brant

  Lucky cast an unenthusiastic glance at the sheaf of papers. He’d never made any pretense about his dislike for the more mundane aspects of their job. He was an expert at avoiding them whenever he could. As he’d often told her, he was a man of action.

  Heat balled in her stomach. She had first-hand knowledge that when it came to action, he was quite expert, indeed.

  She looked at the clock on the wall. “I’d thought about doing a little surveillance on Mark Garvey, try to get a clue as to where he spends his time after work. According to his neighbor, he’s not home much.”

  “You’ll never make it down there by the time business hours are over.”

  She gave a mental shrug. It could wait. “In that case, I think I’ll make an appearance at the New Orleans Civic League gathering tonight. It’s just cocktails prior to an awards ceremony, then I’ll probably come back here and go through his NEXIS more thoroughly.”

  Aware of her eyes on him, Lucky made a show of eating his apple, as if that task required a great deal of concentration. When he looked up to catch her eyes on him, he frowned, feeling hunted.

  “Any function with the word civic in it is bound to be rahdoht.” And he’d rather stick a needle in his eye than engage in endless boring conversation with a bunch of strangers who might or might not have anything of interest to impart. “What are you hopin’ for?”

  “Mark Garvey’s ex-wife Tara is the co-hostess. With any luck, I can get a few minutes alone with her. The guest list also includes Stephen Garvey, so I thought it might yield something useful.”

  Something useful. In terms of the contacts they might make she was right. But he wasn’t sure how wise it was to spend any more time than necessary in her company right now. He’d gained a little perspective, spending the afternoon away from her. At least, he thought it was perspective. The bolt of frustration that had been riding him for two long nights had at least subsided a bit. But he didn’t think it was particularly wise to put it to the test by watching her all evening, laughing and flirting in a dress showing far more of her charms than he needed to be reminded of right now.

  “It’s business dress, if that makes you feel any better.”

  His gaze flew to hers, amazed that she seemed to have plucked the thought from his head. “What?”

  Her expression was amused. “You don’t have to dress up, if that’s what’s holding you back. I’m not even changing. I’ll bet you didn’t order any clothes, did you?”

  “As a matter of fact, you’re wrong.” The surprise on her face brought him a measure of satisfaction. “It was supposed to be delivered this afternoon.”

  “Maybe it came while I was out. Well, that’s settled, then. You’re coming.”

  He hesitated a moment, and then the instant seemed to stretch until the silence was a taut, thrumming alive thing between them. Poring over records all day had given him way too much time to think. He’d been afraid that getting involved intimately with her would take their relationship to a point of no return. It would be, he’d decided, like learning to ride a bicycle backwards. How did they go back to being friends once they’d been, however briefly, lovers? Would a few weeks of wild passionate sex satiate the desperation in his blood, or would it be a constant brutal reminder of what could never be again?

  There were few things in this life he feared. But if engaging in an intimate relationship with Jacey, no matter how gut-wrenchingly satisfying it would be, meant he’d lose her completely in the end, he wasn’t willing to risk it.

  “If you’re afraid for your virtue, don’t be,” he heard her say. Incredulous, his eyes narrowed as she continued, a cool little smile on her lips. “I rarely proposition the same man more than once in the same week. You’re safe for several more days, at least.”

  Was she actually mocking him for his restraint? Bon Dieu, but the woman didn’t know when to step quietly around a frustrated man.

  He bared his teeth in response. “It’s not my safety you should be worried about, darlin’. It’s yours. Keep pushin’ and you might find yourself with more trouble than you can handle.”

  Shoving himself out of the chair, he stalked out of the office. But not out of the building. Non, he wasn’t a complete fool, even when he realized how blatantly he was being manipulated. He’d change his clothes and accompany her tonight and while there he’d do the job he was paid for.

  And if she was fortunate, if they were both fortunate, the tenuous leash he had on his control just might hold for the duration of the evening.

  The ride across town to the hotel where the event was hosted was accomplished in simmering silence. It was, Jacey thought, sneaking a peek at Lucky as they entered the decorated conference room, rather like baiting a tiger. She shouldn’t be shocked when he snarled back.

  And she shouldn’t be tempted to keep pushing until he pounced.

  Swallowing, she looked away. Nothing in her experience had prepared her for dealing with a man like him. He cared nothing for the social niceties that glossed the interactions of most of the men of her acquaintance. His emotions, when provoked, would be immediate, unguarded and, more to the point, genuine.

  Which made experiencing his passion all the more devastating.

  To keep her gaze away, she stared blindly at the crowd already gathered. He wasn’t dressed all that differently from the other night, in that he’d chosen black dress pants, and a dark collarless silk-blend pullover. But the jacket this time was the color of wheat, providing an eye-catching contrast to the dark clothes and his dusky complexion. Certainly several heads turned in their direction when they entered.

  Spying Tara Garvey talking animatedly to someone across the room, she said in an undertone, “I’m going to mingle. Mark Garvey’s ex-wife is the redhead over there in black, and I think that’s Stephen Garvey in the corner speaking to the man in the red tie.”

  “Don’t worry about me.” His voice was easy, but the gleam in his eye warned her that his temper hadn’t yet passed. “I’ll be fine on my own.”

  Taking him at his word, she moved away, with more than a little relief. She wasn’t sure just where this new impulse to needle him sprang from, but she was beginning to realize that he was right; it wasn’t safe.

  Not because she feared him. For some curious reason that she’d never quite understood, she’d long trusted Lucky in a way she had no other. But stirring up this constant tension between them was putting a strain on their relationship, both working and personal. She was going to have to take his advice, and try to back away from the memories that haunted her every time she closed her eyes. Try to forget the press of his body against hers, the hunger of his mouth, the smooth heated skin of his chest.

  She took a shaky breath of resolve. If he could set them aside so easily, how difficult could it be?

  It took several minutes to make her way across the room and get Tara’s attention. When she did, she returned the woman’s hug. She’d first met her several years ago when they’d worked on a committee, and always had enjoyed her company. She possessed a droll wit and a sharp mind.

  They engaged in chitchat for a few minutes, before Jacey said, “I see on the program that you’re up for one of the awards this evening. Congratulations.”

  Tara smiled and shrugged. “I feel like I should give them the award. Lord knows, I’ve been glad to be busy the last couple years.”

  Jacey squeezed her hand. “Are things going better?” Rumor had it that the divorce had been a difficult one.

  “Not bad. I’m seeing someone now, so that lifts my self-confidence out of the Dumpster where Mark left it.” Tara grimaced. “Not that I can blame him totally for that, but I’m not yet past the bitter stage, I’m afraid. I never actually caught him cheating, but I was pretty sure that was what was going on.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, I hadn’t heard that.”

  The woman shrugged and sipped from the glass of mineral water she was holding. “Well, it’s not as if the whole family is a model for fidelity. I understand Rup
ert’s new conquest is thirty years his junior. He’s invested in some thoroughbred operation of hers, apparently. I’m sure it won’t last. They all run through sexual partners like most people do tissues. Well, Stephen’s the exception, I guess,” she corrected herself. “He’s something of a workaholic but a real family man, nonetheless. Believe me, there were many times I envied his wife that.”

  “What made you think Mark was cheating?” Jacey’s stomach knotted at the thought of pumping a woman she respected about her personal life. But it would be hard to find a better source on Mark Garvey than his ex-wife.

  “It was little things, you know? Too many late nights to really be working late, callers who hung up when I answered the phone, and large sums of money unexpectedly missing from our accounts.” Tara’s eyes flashed. “Whoever she was, she must have gotten some hellacious jewelry.”

  Jacey made a mental note to check more closely on the women Mark had been dating. From what his neighbor had told her, there had been a string of them, so he obviously hadn’t stayed with whoever he’d been seeing before the divorce.

  “But you’re happy now, right?” she asked with genuine concern.

  “Getting there.” Tara leaned over and gave her another hug. “Thanks for asking. I’m at least content. And back to feeling female enough to have noticed your entrance. Good Lord, girl, what have you gone and gotten for yourself?”

  If it had been someone else Jacey would have stiffened in embarrassment, or engaged in the polite verbal jousting that often accompanied such questions. But Tara’s tone was playful, and her interest real. And, truth be told, Jacey just plain liked the woman. Always had.

  So she turned in the direction of Tara’s avid gaze, and looked at Lucky, who appeared to be quite comfortably chatting with Madonna Wilcox, an octogenarian who still managed to attend almost every event Jacey did. The sight of him ignited a slow burn in the pit of her belly that she was helpless to douse.

  “He does tend to stand out from the crowd, doesn’t he?” she murmured.

  “Stand out? Honey, the rest of these men fade to insignificance around him, and I’m including my date. Who is he and where did you find him?”

  At that moment Lucky looked up, and catching her gaze on him gave her a steamy stare that told her he still hadn’t forgotten their conversation at the office.

  “Ohhhh.” Tara fanned herself with one hand. “I can feel the heat from here. That man oozes sex appeal. Don’t those smoldering looks just turn your knees to putty?”

  Jacey attempted a smile and deliberately stiffened the knees in question. She didn’t even try to answer. She wasn’t used to the effect Lucky Boucher was beginning to have on her. But her knees were the least of her worries. The man was affecting her entire system. And she wasn’t quite sure what she was going to do about it.

  It was a couple of hours before the congratulatory speeches and spates of polite applause were winding down. Lucky couldn’t quite recall what the awards had been for. He hadn’t exactly been paying attention. No matter how he tried to focus on something other than the woman at his side, his mind had a way of circling back to her. And that couldn’t be tolerated.

  There had never been a woman alive who had demanded that kind of hold on his attention. Never been one to burn a brand in his brain—and lower—that had him thinking of nothing but her. A month ago, even a week ago, he would have been amused at the thought. But he was very much afraid that was happening to him now.

  He didn’t recognize the phenomenon. He damn sure didn’t like it. No female tied him in knots. But then, this wasn’t any other woman, it was Jacey. There was no walking away from her. No way to rid himself of the frustration riding him by steeping himself deep inside her and letting the torch of desire burn itself out.

  Knowing that, accepting it, just made it flame hotter.

  He glanced at her profile as she politely listened to the old lady who’d bent his ear earlier for nearly fifteen minutes before Jacey had rescued him. Her face was set in the smooth expressionless mask he was beginning to realize that she donned especially for engagements like this. She’d looked like that much of the first several months they’d worked together, until he had found himself saying things, doing things for the express purpose of forcing some real emotion from her.

  And emotion he’d gotten. There was fire there beneath the reserve, and a humor he never would have suspected. Both had captivated him from the first. And when she’d become more than just another woman to him, he’d been able to wall off the attraction he felt for her because he hadn’t wanted to jeopardize their fledgling friendship.

  The wall was still there, he assured himself uneasily. But it was in pretty dismal condition these days.

  His cell phone vibrated in his coat pocket and he withdrew it, checked the number. Recognizing it, he answered quickly.

  “Luella, where y’at?” He hadn’t spoken to his cousin for several weeks. But her voice had his initial pleasure evaporating.

  “Lucky, I need to see you right away. I’m sorry, I know I must be interrupting you. I’m so sorry…”

  “La-La, calm down,” he soothed, automatically using her childhood nickname. “You’re not takin’ me away from anythin’ important. What do you need?”

  “I have to see you.” There was a hitch in the woman’s voice. “Soon. But if you’re busy or something just say, and maybe we can…”

  “Mais non, when have I ever been too busy for family?” Lucky felt Jacey’s quizzical look on him as he spoke. “Where should we meet?”

  “I’m at a coffee shop called Cyber-City on Tulane.”

  He glanced at his watch. “It will take me a half hour to get there.”

  “I’ll be waiting.” Rather than the relief he’d expected in her tone, it was still jittery, and he couldn’t help but wonder what had his usually cheerful cousin so upset. If it had been a problem with one of their family, she would have said. He hoped she wasn’t having problems with her boyfriend again. He was getting a little old to slap around punks who couldn’t hold their liquor.

  Disconnecting, he met Jacey’s gaze. “It was my cousine. She’s in some sort of trouble. I have to go.”

  She nodded. “I’ll take a cab home. Don’t worry about me.”

  Still he hesitated. “Are you sure? Because I could drop you off first.”

  “No, go ahead. Help your cousin.”

  He nodded, worry for Luella niggling at him. “All right. If this doesn’t take long I’ll come by the office. Help you go through the NEXIS.”

  Her eyes widened a little. “You must really be feeling guilty. Go ahead. I hope your cousin is okay.”

  He rose, his mind already on the upcoming meeting. “So do I.”

  The time it took him to get across town seemed interminable, but once he walked into the coffee shop-slash-Internet café and saw his cousin, something in his chest lightened. He slid into the booth across from her, noted that she didn’t meet his eyes.

  “La-La, what is it?” He reached across the table, took both hands in his. “You got man trouble again? How many times I gotta tell you, these bums you find, they’re no good?”

  His words abruptly stopped when her gaze lifted to his. Misery filled their depths. “Lucky, I’m sorry. You don’t know…”

  “That will be all, Luella. You may go.”

  Comprehension slammed through him, and with it came a cold-edged fury. He released his cousin’s hands, sat back slowly in the booth. Charlotte Wheeler waited while Luella gave him one last beseeching look, then slid out of the booth and hurried out of the café. He remained silent as Jacey’s mother seated herself in the place his cousin had vacated, then stared stonily at her until she spoke.

  “Well, what did you expect, Mr. Boucher? That I would continue to allow you to ignore me?” She used a napkin to wipe a crumb off the table, then set her purse on top of it. “It has a certain poetic justice, don’t you think? Your cousin is the one who put me in touch with you three years ago. It’s only fai
r that she have a hand in my getting rid of you now.”

  “Fa’true?” He gave her a mocking smile. “Now how you figure on gettin’ rid of me? I’m not of the mind to be goin’ anywhere.”

  “The problem with your mind is that you change it without warning.” Her green eyes glittered with emotion. “Three years ago I hired you to do a job and you failed. At least, that’s what you would have me believe. Now it has become abundantly clear that you just sensed a better deal for yourself and bided your time before making your move.”

  She unsnapped her purse and took out a manila envelope. Pushing it across the table toward him, she said, “Here’s ten thousand dollars. You don’t have to finish the job I hired you for then. All you have to do is walk out of my daughter’s life. Now. Without a word to her. If you don’t take it, I’ll tell her exactly what brought you to her office thirty-six months ago.”

  “Will you?” He propped his elbows on the table and rested his chin on his fists. “That would be a scene I’d pay to see. I’d like to hear you tell Jacey that you hired a man to sabotage her business. That you wanted her scared, terrified even, by the dangers of her profession, dangers I was to create for her benefit.” He dropped his arms, leaned across the table, all the loathing he felt for the woman alive in his face. “Me, I think she needs to know. I’d like to be there when she finds out that her mother would stop at nothin’ to destroy her dreams. That you’re so selfish you were willin’ to sacrifice her happiness for your precious name.”

  There was a flicker in her eyes that in anyone else might have been mistaken as guilt. He knew the woman well enough to know that was impossible. “Thanks to you, our family name is being held up for ridicule and scorn. I imagine you think that by seducing my daughter you will get your hands on far more money than this. But you need to remember that if I tell her the truth, she’ll cut you out of her life, and you’ll get nothing.” She nudged the envelope closer toward him. “Better to take what you can now, and get out.”