What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG)

by CJ Roberts

  I popped the lid off. Inside was a white silk blouse in my size. The card on top said:

  Keep your eyes forward.

  ~A

  What the hell?

  How had he found me? Being borderline worried about the logistics of that should have been my first thought. Instead, I felt a little giddy and flattered.

  A small smile tugged at my lips. Had he picked this out himself? Probably not. He looked like one of those important people who had others do things for him. He had a personal driver, for God’s sake.

  The color of his eyes alone was seared into my memory. That intense stare could likely burn right through a person. A man like that had power. Not just in general, but power over women. That much was obvious. It was also clear that he was very aware of his effect on others.

  Before I could let the embarrassment of this morning engulf me, I switched my thoughts to something else. Like the line of his strong jaw. Judging by his dark features and careful grooming, he probably had to shave every morning and by every evening he’d have a five o’clock shadow. He had to be in his thirties, but he was fit and obviously took care of himself. So much strength and poise seeped from every pore that he could easily pull off late twenties if not for those eyes. There was darkness in them. A kind of wild knowledge that no twenty-something could pretend to have without actual experience.

  My skin broke out in goose bumps and I had to shift in my seat to alleviate the sudden throbbing between my legs. What was happening to me? My experience with men was minimal. It was hard to date when I didn’t like people coming within striking distance, let alone touching me intimately. My sex life consisted of myself, a few imaginary fantasies, and that was about it. But this mystery man? Just thinking of him had my whole body pulsing to life and all five of my senses begging for him.

  Leaning back in the chair, I looked at the ceiling and groaned. Emotions of any kind were not fun to deal with. Which was why I tried not to. I had been on the receiving end of my mother’s rage and love for years. That was the tricky part of dealing with someone who was bipolar. I never knew which version of her I’d get. She could go from such hate to such joy in a matter of hours and it wasn’t until I felt her nails slice across my face that I knew which state she was in.

  Even keel. All the time. That’s where I preferred to be. That was where it was safe.

  Now if only I could get my stupid body to understand that.

  2

  “How was your first day, Miss Tits and Ass?” Brian sat in the chair on the other side of the living room and unleashed that all-American, boy-next-door smile at me. Too bad I was immune to it. Had been since junior year of college, when I met him. All Brian had to do was aim that grin, shaggy blond hair, and stubble at an unsuspecting female, and they’d instantly swoon. It was how he’d snatched up Megan, and the two had been dating for over a year now.

  “You do know that T.A. means Teaching Assistant, right?”

  He shrugged and sprawled on the overstuffed chair, beer in hand. Megan and I had rented this apartment during freshman year at college. Since we’d moved in four years ago, Mondays were designated “sweatpants and take-out night.” It was my favorite. Especially when Brian came over to hang with us, even though he donned his normal ripped jeans and baseball cap instead of pajamas. Besides Megan, he was my best friend.

  “Tell Brian how you almost got creamed!” Megan yelled from the kitchen, where she was dishing up Chinese food.

  “I wasn’t watching where I was going and almost got hit by a car.” Crisscrossing my legs on the couch, I took a bite of my chow mein.

  “Jesus! Are you okay?” Brian leaned forward, his forearms resting on his knees, and looked me over as if I were a walking bruise. We joked around a lot, but at the end of the day, we were all friends. He was as close to a big brother as I’d ever get, and like Megan, treated me like I should be wrapped in Styrofoam and sheltered from the atmosphere itself.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. I just stood there with coffee dripping down the front of me like a moron.”

  “But then Mr. Tall, Dark, and Dramatic sent her a new blouse,” Megan finished as she walked into the living room.

  “Wait. The guy who almost hit you with his car sent you clothes?”

  I glared at Megan, who just shrugged me off. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Brian, but another person weighing in on the oddity of this whole situation was the last thing I needed.

  “How did this guy find you?”

  “I don’t know. He knew my name and where I was going and I guess just figured it out.”

  Brian frowned. “That seems freaky.”

  “I think it’s nice.” Megan grinned. “And I think he’s hot.”

  I took a drink from my longneck. “You haven’t even seen him.”

  “So? You described him and he sounds hot. I trust your judgment. Besides—” Megan took a bite of her lemon chicken. “—this would be a perfect opportunity to ask him out.”

  “I don’t even know his name.”

  Megan shrugged. “He found you. Maybe you can find him. All I’m saying is that you’re beautiful and smart and you have a lot to offer. Why not get your toes wet in the dating pool? You don’t have to get too close—maybe a cup of coffee or something?”

  “This is assuming I ever actually see this guy again.”

  “All I’m saying is that you smile a lot whenever you talk about him.”

  “I haven’t talked about him. You’ve been making me talk about him all night.”

  “I don’t like it,” Brian stated.

  That didn’t really surprise me. Since I didn’t date, the issue had never come up, but where Megan thought that branching out was good for me, Brian obviously disagreed.

  “This guy is obviously thoughtful and it’s Saks Fifth Avenue. What’s not to like?” Megan spat back.

  Around a mouthful of noodles I mumbled, “I’m really sorry I told you guys.”

  “Don’t be! It’s Brian who’s being an ass.”

  “Oh, I’m the ass?”

  I threw my hands up. “I thought we established that I was the one with the ass, so both of you shut up.” We all smiled. Megan rolled her eyes at Brian, but he didn’t seem to care.

  Dinner hit the spot and as I ate, I thought about what Megan had said. Hunting down this mystery guy wasn’t an option, but if I was given a chance to re-do that first meeting, I would. Either way, it was time I took action. My past wouldn’t hinder me. If I wanted to be treated like a normal woman, I needed to start acting like one. A cup of coffee wasn’t scary.

  “How about lunch tomorrow?” Brian asked.

  “I can’t. I’m actually running Professor Martin’s lecture.”

  “No shit? That’s awesome!”

  “It’s the intro sociology class, but I’m pretty excited.”

  “You should be,” Brian said. “But, ah, do you think you’ll be able to handle that?”

  Anger swelled in my chest. I knew he cared. Knew Megan cared. But I wasn’t a child. Yes, I had anxiety problems and issues with personal space, but I wasn’t breakable. Being treated like a fragile doll was frustrating. And I’d decided a long time ago, when I walked out of my mother’s house, to stop being weak.

  “I can handle a lot, Brian.”

  He opened his mouth to say something, but Megan cut him off. “What time are you done? We can both meet you afterward for dinner.”

  “Lecture gets out at four-fifty, so let’s aim for five.”

  “Perfect.” Megan clapped and Brian nodded in agreement. “We can celebrate your first lecture on the other side of the fence.”

  I ran my palms down the front of my black pencil skirt. The emerald fabric matched my eyes and, as usual, my long curls hung loose around my face and down my back. This was my power outfit. The curtain my hair provided was my security blanket. Staring down a theater of one-hundred-plus students, I needed all the security and confidence I could get.

  Starting up the PowerPoint deck, I cleared my th
roat, and reminded myself that I knew this material. I was prepared, organized, and all variables were accounted for. Any possible scenario that could disrupt the lecture had been thought of and a plan of action in place. From a student randomly vomiting to a surprise fire alarm, I had a solution for it all. Having control, or at least the illusion of it, gave me a sense of peace.

  I began the lecture, feeling more confident by the minute. Midway through, I glanced up from the presentation to look at the crowd. My blood pressure spiked and my palms went sweaty.

  Standing in the doorway of the upper corner entry was Mr. GQ.

  With the lights off, it was hard to make out every detail of his handsome face, but those wild baby blues were bright against the darkness. He slid into the back row near the door and simply stared at me.

  My throat went dry and my whole body shook. I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear—then untucked it. I forced myself to concentrate and continue.

  Damn it. He was a variable I hadn’t counted on. Taking in a gulp of air, I prepared for the flood of anxiety to rush over me.

  But it didn’t.

  His eyes were intense, his demeanor so fluid and calming I could drink from it. What he made me feel wasn’t fear, it was awe. He radiated power and control and with every stolen glance at him, I felt stronger. Simply being in his presence made me feel secure, but the explanation for such a feeling was eluding me.

  The next thirty minutes dragged by and though I didn’t have a nervous breakdown, my heart rate stayed above ninety. His eyes never left mine and I felt the heat behind every gaze. Ignoring him was a lesson in improbability—one I failed miserably.

  When the students left, he walked down the steps toward the front of the room where I stood.

  “Hi.” I smiled, trying not to sound overly anxious. “What are you doing here?” My tone was accidently harsh, but damn it, my whole body was buzzing like I had been running a marathon for the last hour.

  His tone however didn’t falter. “I’m learning about sociology.”

  “Really?”

  His eyes skated over me and I fought the instinct to cross my arms over my chest and huddle into a ball. Appearing small and meek was a great way to avoid confrontation. But standing in front of this man, I found myself wanting to be noticed. Instead of cowering, I straightened my stance and smiled.

  He was in a black suit and tie with a crisp white shirt underneath. Just as striking as I remembered. I grinned when I noticed his five o’clock shadow and couldn’t help glancing at the clock. It appeared I had been right about that.

  “Is something amusing you?” he asked.

  “Yes.” Maybe it was the adrenaline or the fact that I was coming down from it, but I couldn’t suppress the sheer joy that was rising in my gut. Somewhere in the back of my mind I had been certain I’d never see him again. But he was here. This was my chance. My makeover moment.

  “Did you like the blouse?”

  “Yes. Thank you. It really wasn’t necessary, though. I would have returned it to you—”

  “Why would you give back something you like?”

  The words caught in my throat. I stood there once again at a disadvantage, and I needed to rectify that. Licking my lips, I rallied my courage, and mentally chanted: Coffee dates aren’t scary. You can do this. Will do this. Just ask his name, then ask him out.

  “What is your name?”

  “Adam Kinkade.”

  Damn. Even his name sounded sexy—“Wait. Kinkade? Like Kinkade Enterprises down the street?” I walked past the tall glass skyscraper every day on my way to and from the university.

  “Yes.”

  Kinkade was a name associated with wealth and God knew what else, but I’d never imagined the man before me to be that Adam Kinkade. I was replaying how we’d met when reality hit hard. Every ounce of confidence I had called on instantly disappeared. He was a wealthy, well-known businessman, which was obviously why he was here: Business, not pleasure. Not a cup of coffee.

  I glanced at my feet. “Look, you don’t have to worry about me suing you or insurance or anything, if that’s why you’re here.”

  He cocked his head. “You walked in front of my car.”

  “Well…yeah…but if that’s what you’re concerned about, then—”

  “I’m not concerned. I have an excellent legal team.”

  My heart raced. “So you’re suing me?”

  “You seem really worried about this idea of a lawsuit.”

  My eyes had to look like saucers. I might not be super rich or highbrow, but I wasn’t stupid and I knew when I was being jerked around. “Your cryptic answers are really starting to bother me.”

  He smirked. “Cryptic?”

  “Yes. Like repeating everything I say so you don’t have to answer a question.”

  “I answered your questions. You just didn’t like my answers. I can hardly be blamed for that.”

  The urge to scream became overwhelming. This infuriating—sexy—man was messing with my emotions and seemed to be entertained by it. “Why are you here, Adam?”

  “To ask you to dinner.”

  “But that’s an entire meal…” I mumbled, then clamped my hand over my lips, making a mental note to think before speaking.

  The corner of his mouth turned up. “Indeed it is.”

  “I just…I was thinking more along the lines of coffee.” Was I interested in dining with him? Maybe. Yes. Well…sort of. I just hadn’t mentally prepared myself for that. One warm beverage was a baby step while food was a frickin leap.

  “We can get coffee after dinner.” The flicker of unease quickly dissipated when I got lost in Adam’s rough voice and contagious grin. Before I could say anything more, Brian and Megan walked in.

  “Hey, Kate. How was your first day?” Megan’s words trailed off as she and Brian descended the steps toward me. Her stare zeroed in on Adam and she instantly flushed. I couldn’t really blame her for that, though. The man was a masterpiece.

  Brian came to stand right next to me. He glared at Adam. But what concerned me more was the look Adam was giving Brian. His face appeared calm, but his eyes blazed like those of a poisonous snake ready to strike.

  “I’m so sorry, we didn’t mean to interrupt,” Megan said, tugging on Brian’s arm. He didn’t move.

  “Adam, this is Megan and Brian.” Apparently no one cared for my attempt at a polite introduction because neither man acknowledged the other. This must be was a pissing contest looked like. I just couldn’t figure out why the two men seemed to have a problem with each other. Brian was protective of me, but this was ridiculous.

  When I felt threatened or nervous, I panicked. While Adam Kinkade did spark a lot of emotions, fear wasn’t one of them.

  “You ready for dinner, Kate?” Brian asked me, looking at Adam the whole time.

  Adam looked like he was about to rip Brian’s throat out with his teeth. Finally, he took his death stare from Brian and locked it on me. “I was unaware you had plans this evening. Especially since you seemed so adamant about coffee.”

  I didn’t have time to form a sentence before Megan piped up, “Oh! No, it’s totally fine if you two were going out. Brian and I will catch you next time, Katelyn.” Megan was all smiley and I could have sworn she wiggled her eyebrows at me.

  I was going to argue, and from the looks of it, so was Brian, but Adam didn’t give either of us a chance. He leaned forward and placed his hand on the small of my back, leading me away.

  “Good,” he growled at Brian. He gave Megan a lazy grin. “Thank you, Megan.”

  The girl looked like she was about to fan herself. Adam Kinkade, with his abrasive swagger and lethal smirk, could melt the panties off any woman.

  And I was currently in his clutches.

  3

  I sat in the back of Adam’s town car while his driver wound through the city. Lights from the local shops and streets were bouncing off the wet pavement as we passed through downtown.

  “Where are we going?”r />
  He looked over at me and I checked the urge to sigh. He was so damned handsome it was kind of hurting my chest. Of course, remembering to breathe would have helped.

  “The best seafood restaurant in the city.”

  He didn’t say any more, and neither did I. Tension ran thick, though I couldn’t really say why. It had been awkward with Brian and Megan earlier, but that shouldn’t make him mad. Right?

  We pulled up to the restaurant. It was packed, glamorous, and sat right on the waterfront. The large glass skyscrapers surrounded us and two open towers serving as parking garages made every car look like a Lite-Brite piece of a bigger, luminous puzzle.

  Adam got out, walked around, and opened my door for me, then silently ushered me inside. The host sprang to attention. “Mr. Kinkade, it’s a pleasure to see you this evening.”

  Adam simply nodded, his palm remaining on the small of my back.

  As if the host’s internal gears had shifted into turbo boost, he showed us to a private table at the back of the restaurant. White linen covered the circular tables, dazzling chandeliers hung from the ceilings, and vibrant art lined the walls. Everything screamed class and wealth and not…me.

  “So, Adam.” After pulling my chair out for me, he seated himself. “Do you come here often?”

  “Yes.” His eyes bored into mine and I fidgeted with my hands in my lap. So much for small talk.

  The waiter came and Adam ordered wine and food, never once glancing at the menu. He didn’t ask me what I wanted. His actions didn’t offend me; rather, they made me feel a bit more at ease. Being out of my element, I had to trust his expertise in this.

  Once our wine glasses were full, the waiter left. A long swallow of the crisp grigio left tingles on the roof of my mouth.

  “What is the situation between you and Brian?”

  I almost spat out my wine. “What? What do you mean?”

  He leaned forward, ensnaring my gaze. “Are you two currently, or have you ever, fucked?”

  This time I coughed and the wine burned as I forced a swallow down the wrong pipe. “That is none of your business. What kind of question is that?”