Damaged!: A Walker Brothers Novel: (The Walker Brothers Book 3)

by J. S. Scott

  I moved back to my objective, feeling him out about duties I could take over. Even though he wasn’t overwhelmed, he could definitely use a personal assistant, and I was determined to be the best I could be at making his life easier.

  “Thanks,” I told him as I finally rose from the chair. “I’ll start with this.” I looked down at my notes, knowing I’d have enough to keep me busy for the rest of the day.

  I walked toward the door, then turned back to him again. “Where am I working?”

  He pointed toward a door on the other side of his office. “There’s a small office connected. I was pretty sure I’d never use it, but I had the builders include it anyway.”

  The door was hidden behind a massive plant, and I didn’t see it until I moved beyond his desk. I rearranged the overgrown greens, and then pushed the door open. “Oh, my,” I muttered in a gut reaction to the room.

  Dane’s office was very masculine, and this space was feminine in comparison. It was light and bright, and the doors leading outside gave me a stunning view of the beach.

  “It will work, right?” he grunted from behind me.

  I glanced at the white desk and chair, thinking that it was probably the most calming atmosphere I’d ever had the privilege of working in.

  The office was obviously an add-on in case he married, so I had hope that he wasn’t completely cynical. The space was definitely built with a possible woman in mind.

  “Who did the painting?” I croaked, mesmerized by the seascape that took up a large portion of one wall.

  “Me.” Dane had risen from his chair and was right behind me.

  The powerful watercolor was nothing like Dane’s usual work.

  He didn’t do watercolors.

  And he definitely didn’t do whimsical.

  But the piece was both of those and more.

  I stared at it, still entranced by the powerful, mesmerizing image. “It’s beautiful,” I murmured, knowing the words weren’t nearly enough.

  “Not one of my best,” he rumbled. “But I was in the mood to do something different.”

  “It worked,” I answered in a hoarse whisper. “It definitely worked.”

  “Glad you like it. Have a good day. I’m going out to my studio soon.”

  “Okay,” I agreed distractedly, still staring at the piece on the wall. “I’ll get to work.”

  The door closed quietly behind me, signaling Dane’s exit. I had to force myself to sit down at my desk and quit gawking at the unusual work on the wall.

  Granted, the watercolor wasn’t Dane’s signature work. He did powerful oil abstracts that generally got a gut reaction from the viewer. The watercolor was subtle, but no less beautiful in a completely different way.

  It was no less powerful than his abstracts. The dark, powerful painting hit me right in the gut.

  I glanced at my notes, trying to get myself back on track. Then, because I couldn’t help myself, I got up and rearranged the desk until all I had to do was turn my head to look at Dane’s painting.

  Satisfied, I picked up the phone to call my ex-boss and let him know he’d never receive another painting from Dane.

  It was the most gratifying and empowering phone call I’d ever made.

  CHAPTER 10

  Dane

  FOUR YEARS AGO…

  “I think we’re going to get a pretty good storm, Picasso,” I mumbled to my dog as I absently scratched his ears.

  I was sitting on the beach with the mutt, watching the angry waves churn into the sand.

  As of now, it was simply a tropical storm. One thing I’d learned about living on a Caribbean Island was that I always had to keep an eye on the weather.

  Not that I was actually in danger.

  I had a state-of-the-art storm shelter underground, and it was nearly as large as my residence. So far, I’d weathered up to a category two hurricane in comfort. It had escalated fast, and I’d had no chance to evacuate. But I wasn’t stupid. If I had to leave the island for a monstrous storm, I would.

  It sucked that my next teacher, an incredibly talented watercolor artist, wasn’t going to get to the Cay today. I’d been looking forward to talking to somebody other than my dog. But it wasn’t going to happen. He’d be delayed until the weather cleared.

  The water was mesmerizing, and I suddenly wished I had the skills to immortalize it on canvas.

  Seascapes weren’t something I painted. Well, until now anyway.

  Why can’t I do something different? I can feel the volatility of the ocean. Couldn’t I capture it with my brush?

  There wasn’t a single thing stopping me from learning different types of art. Maybe I’d rarely feel like painting in various mediums, but I could do it as a hobby. Fuck knew I had nothing but time.

  I’d had those thoughts before, which was why I was going to try to learn a new kind of way to make images from watercolor. Maybe I wouldn’t be feeling it often, but it would be nice to learn something different.

  I rose from my spot on the sand and signaled for Picasso to follow me. I was starting to feel the strength of the storm, which meant I needed to get my ass—and my dog’s—underground.

  With any luck, we wouldn’t be confined for long. Theo and Emilee were seeking shelter with her family, so I wouldn’t even feel anyone else’s presence for at least several days.

  I’m fine being alone. I’ll get used to it.

  Those words ran through my mind automatically now.

  I was pretty sure I was starting to believe them.

  CHAPTER 12

  Dane

  THE PRESENT…

  “Fuck! I can’t concentrate,” I said with disgust, tossing my brush down next to the painting I’d been working on.

  I couldn’t put my emotions into my work when all I wanted to do was go find the beautiful blonde working for me.

  About the only thing I could feel right now was lust, and I had no fucking idea how to slap that on a canvas.

  I started to clean up, resigned to giving up for the day.

  Kenzie had been here one week, and she’d managed to send my world into goddamn chaos.

  When I got up in the mornings, I looked forward to seeing her when I got downstairs. More often than not, she had breakfast ready and the coffee done. Even though it wasn’t something I’d asked of her, she did it anyway because she liked to eat.

  And I was more than happy to partake. I couldn’t cook worth a damn, and it was pleasant to actually have a hot breakfast.

  We’d started eating together, and it was too damn cozy. Kenzie was sharp, smart, and funny.

  Unfortunately for me, she was also gorgeous, and she smelled like coconut with a hint of flowers after a good rain. Not the overbearing odor of some pungent perfume. Nope. Her fragrance was sweet, but light. A scent I could get used to needing to smell every single day.

  I have to stop craving her presence!

  I was fucking addicted to her already, and the tantalizing sweetness that was part of her personality.

  Sure. She could occasionally be stubborn or sassy, but I was getting used to it. If I wanted to be truthful, I’d admit that I actually liked it.

  Kenzie treated me like she would anyone else, and she never seemed to notice the fact that I wasn’t perfect. Her friendliness was disarming, and I didn’t like being without some kind of weapon.

  There was no fucking way I could be mean to her. Well, not consciously. I’d wanted to keep her at a distance, but I couldn’t. Not completely. She had just wheedled her way into my life when I wasn’t looking.

  Breakfast.

  Office time.

  Dinner.

  It wasn’t enough, and I was constantly wondering what she was doing. Even though I hadn’t wanted an assistant, she actually had taken away a lot of work that I didn’t realize had taken up so m
uch of my time.

  Probably because I’d wanted it to keep me busy.

  I had more time to spend on the beach or to hike the island. Some of the things I’d slowed down on were now suddenly possible again. Hell, she’d even talked me into teaching her some of the skills it took to be an actuary, and she picked it up incredibly fast.

  More! I wanted more.

  She hadn’t really seen the island, and even though we’d settled on work hours, she spent more time in the office than we’d agreed.

  She needs a break. She needs to eat better. She needs more pleasure in her life.

  She needs…me.

  Okay, maybe she really didn’t need me, but I liked to think that she did.

  I could show her the island. I could show her the beach. I could teach her everything she didn’t already know.

  I clenched my fist around the brush I was cleaning, trying not to think about the fact that what I wanted the most was to see her in my damn bed.

  Naked.

  Moaning.

  Pleading for me to make her come, then screaming when I did.

  “Fuck!” My dick was as hard as iron, and being around Kenzie drove me bat-shit crazy. “Why did I have to be attracted to her?” I mumbled irritably.

  Really, wanting her had probably been inevitable. My need to fuck her had been swift and immediate, and it was growing stronger every day that I spent in her company.

  She was definitely a woman to be admired. Kenzie had worked hard just to keep herself afloat because she’d had no chance to go to college. She’d taken some art classes, but that had been mostly for fun. Just like me, she was pretty much self-taught in everything that she excelled in, and things hadn’t been nearly as easy for her alone as it had been for me.

  I had no idea what it was like to be poor. I could only imagine how hard her life had been. I’d been filthy rich since the day I was born. But she’d been working like crazy since she was old enough to drive, and it had to wear on her. But if it did, she didn’t show it. Every day, she was positive and upbeat, something I wasn’t exactly used to, but it wasn’t totally unwelcome.

  I just didn’t exactly know how to handle someone like her.

  The women I’d known had been privileged, just like me, or they’d been an expert at getting the money they wanted through manipulation.

  But Kenzie, she wasn’t like that. She seemed happy just to work for me and spend time on my island. As of yet, she didn’t seem bored, but she might get there eventually if she didn’t stop doing nothing but work.

  I wanted to give her everything she’d never had, but I knew she wouldn’t lightly just take it—like every other female I’d known. She was…different, but not in a bad way.

  “I like her,” I admitted to myself, the statement ringing out in my studio.

  That was the problem. I did like her, and it put me into one hell of a fix.

  The more I liked her; the more I wanted her.

  Honestly, I was hoping I’d stop liking her so damn much. My balls were turning as blue as the damn ocean.

  I can’t fuck her.

  Not only was I afraid she’d leave, but I was worried that she’d flinch away from me. Yeah, she appeared to be totally unconcerned about how I looked, but that didn’t mean she wanted me all over her.

  For some reason, I couldn’t even try to make her a money deal for sex.

  Number one: I knew she wouldn’t sell her body.

  Number two: I didn’t want to buy it.

  I wanted her willing and eager, and that thought was a complete fantasy. A beautiful woman like her wanting somebody like me? Nope. It wasn’t happening.

  It didn’t seem to matter how much I told myself Kenzie was just an employee. My dick thought otherwise.

  I finished cleaning up my workspace, then exited my studio, restless as hell from being unable to focus on my work.

  Getting rid of the temptation was impossible. I’d known from the moment she’d given me hell about not delivering on promises that I wanted to help her. I just wasn’t sure how to do that and keep my sanity.

  I walked to the house, telling myself that I wasn’t going to allow myself to go into the office since I was certain that Kenzie was still there.

  Not surprisingly, my ass went straight to my home office, like Kenzie was a homing beacon and I was a fucking lost ship.

  I pushed the door of her office open, not exactly shocked to see her gorgeous ass in the chair, and her gaze intently on her computer as she clicked her mouse.

  “Kenzie?” I said.

  She startled, looking up as she realized I was in the room.

  “Yes, Mr. Walker?”

  Her beautiful eyes were trained intently on me, and it made me swallow hard, like I was a horny teenager who’d been caught checking her out. “I was going to hit the pool. Do you want to come with me?”

  Fuck! Why in the hell had I said that?

  Guilt rocketed through my system as I saw her face light up. I hadn’t offered to have her share any real activities with me because I was afraid I’d end up down on my knees and begging her to put me out of my damn misery.

  “It’s only one fifteen,” she said as she gnawed on a pencil she’d picked up from her desk.

  Oh, shit. Now I’d fantasize about where else that luscious mouth could be right now. “Doesn’t matter. I’m knocking off for the day. Get off the computer. You’ve been at this long enough.”

  “I—”

  “Don’t argue,” I demanded. “Go put on your swimsuit and I’ll meet you at the pool.”

  Kenzie had worked hard since her first full day here. If she started to do a task, she found another that she could take over. Little by little, she was making my life easy. Maybe too easy. Other than my art, I had very little to keep me from thinking about her all damn day.

  “If you’re sure it’s okay,” she said longingly.

  “It’s fine. I asked you, didn’t I?”

  “Yes,” she said as she stood up. “You did. And I’m not going to turn you down.”

  Oh, she’d definitely turn me down if she knew what I really wanted to do.

  Because I wanted to do her.

  Pretty damn desperately.

  “Go,” I replied, anxious to get myself to the pool as a distraction. Of course, that really wouldn’t work very well if I was taking my greatest temptation with me for a swim.

  I’m a dumbass!

  “Okay. I’ll just be a minute,” she said as she scurried away, presumably to change her clothes.

  “I’m so fucked,” I said aloud once she’d left the office. But I was also relieved that she agreed to come along.

  As I wandered outside, I had to wonder why I wasn’t really all that upset with myself about making Kenzie the offer.

  CHAPTER 13

  Dane

  THREE YEARS AGO…

  “Damn, I wish you didn’t have to go back,” Trace told me as we got ready to part ways at the airport in Denver.

  My private jet was waiting. I’d finally gotten a full airport on the island, and it was more than capable of landing and housing my aircrafts.

  I knew my brother was telling the truth. He probably wanted me to stay, but there was no way that was going to happen.

  The holidays had been pleasant this year. I was out a good year from my last surgery, and there were no bandages in sight.

  Of course, I’d made sure that Theo and Emilee had done my Christmas shopping, just as I had in the previous years since I’d run into that frightened child at the mall.

  I wanted to tell Trace that he could always come visit the Bahamas.

  I had enough space.

  But the words wouldn’t come out of my mouth.

  My oldest brother had a busy life here in Denver, and Sebastian was starting to do nothing except par
ty his life away.

  I wasn’t busy like Trace. I wasn’t trying to manage an international business.

  And I had no interest in Sebastian’s party lifestyle.

  But damn! I still wanted to see my brothers more often. Living alone on Walker’s Cay was slowly driving me crazy.

  Say it! Tell him you want to see him more often.

  “Yeah, I wish I could stay a little longer, too.” The words had flown from my mouth automatically.

  “Don’t be a stranger,” Trace grunted as he gripped me in a bear hug.

  I briefly hugged him back as I answered, “I won’t.”

  I would. I knew that I would.

  “Call me when you get back to the island,” he insisted, standing back so I could leave.

  Sebastian had left the day before, so there wasn’t much to say except goodbye.

  I lifted my hand as I walked toward my jet, forcing myself not to look back.

  My brothers had their lives, and I had mine.

  They were nothing alike.

  I’m fine being alone. I’ll get used to it.

  I shrugged off our parting as soon as I got into the aircraft.

  It seemed that I was finally succeeding in convincing myself that my mantra was the truth.

  Someday, I’d be okay with my solitude.

  I just hoped that day came soon.

  CHAPTER 14

  Kenzie

  THE PRESENT…

  When you lived in the same house with another person, there came a time when hiding some of your vulnerabilities became nearly impossible.

  “It’s time,” I said to myself nervously.

  I’d known, from the first day I’d come to work on the Cay, that Dane would eventually know the real me. Living in the same home was personal, and I couldn’t be on guard every moment of the day.

  I turned away from the mirror I’d been using, and went to the closet to grab a casual cover-up. I donned it over my one-piece bathing suit, knowing it hid very little since it was light and almost transparent.

  I didn’t want to hide anymore, but I was terrified to show Dane who I really was beneath my façade.