by J. S. Scott
Maybe it had been the right thing to show him who I really was. He was my boss. And we had to live in the same house. I couldn’t keep hiding my own scars. But letting him kiss me had been a completely different story.
I was vulnerable whenever he touched me, and that scared the shit out of me. I was a survivor. I knew better than to let myself feel that much.
Being alone for most of my life had taught me that the only person I could count on was myself. Paige had been the only real friend in my life. Others had been transient and short-lived friendships, and some just casual friends.
I couldn’t be counted on to be there for anybody, so I avoided any kind of real intimacy or connection most of the time out of necessity.
I’m not sure whether I would have shared my history with Paige had I not been her roommate for so long, and had slowly learned to trust her.
I sighed as I poured water into the coffee pot and switched it to the On position.
Maybe I’m so drawn to Dane because we’re so much alike.
Both of us had experienced profound loneliness on a scale that most people would never understand. We both had scars, but the physical marks were far less painful than the emotional ones.
Dane hid out on his island.
I hid in plain sight.
Even on the streets of New York, which were shared by millions of people, I’d always felt lonely.
I tucked my hair behind my ear as I wondered when I’d meet up with Dane that day.
“You’re nervous,” Dane drawled from the entry to the kitchen. “You only start fidgeting with your hair when you’re feeling edgy.”
I turned to watch as he advanced into the room. As usual, he was breathtakingly handsome in a pair of jeans and a navy blue polo that hugged every toned muscle in his upper body. I cursed the fact that he was in such good shape, and that the sound of his deep voice sent shivers down my spine.
Yes, Dane had scars, but nothing that made him less attractive. If anything, it seemed to add to the mystery of the man.
“I guess I never noticed,” I said before I turned my head back to the coffee.
I couldn’t stand to look at him without somehow wishing we were naked, hot, sweaty and satisfied.
“Why are you so uptight this early in the day?” he questioned as he leaned against the sink right next to me.
I shook my head. “I’m not. I was thinking.”
“Bullshit,” he countered, folding his muscular arms in front of him. “Maybe I haven’t been around people a whole lot in the last seven or eight years, but I’ve watched you long enough to know your body language.”
I opened my mouth to tell him that nobody had ever cared enough to watch how I reacted, but I closed it again, knowing I couldn’t give away too much of myself. It made me feel raw and vulnerable, and I couldn’t afford to experience those kinds of emotions.
I forced myself to draw a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Okay. I’m a little jumpy I suppose. Things got out of hand yesterday, and I’m sorry about that.”
He turned and opened the cupboard, then grabbed two mugs and set them on the countertop. “I’m not,” he said in a husky voice.
“I’m your assistant,” I argued.
“Who the fuck cares,” he said. “It’s just you and me out here. It’s not like there are any employees, other than Theo and Emilee. And I know they sure as hell don’t really care what we do. There’s no etiquette book on what two people alone on a private island should do.”
“I care. I need this job.” I finally turned to look at him.
His eyebrow rose in challenge as he stared at me. “You think I’d fire you?”
“I hope not.” The words just slipped from my lips before I could stop them.
“I won’t,” he grumbled, then his eyes narrowed. “Why in the hell are you wearing a ton of makeup again?”
Hiding my scars was a habit when I was working, and maybe I’d felt too bare this morning. “It’s appropriate.”
“No, it sure as hell isn’t,” he answered. “Get rid of it. Your scars are barely noticeable, and it’s hot as hell here. In the summer, that stuff will be running all over your clothes.”
He had air conditioning, but I had to admit I wasn’t quite used to the humidity of the tropical environment. “Is that really something you want to see?” I asked defensively.
“Yeah. I think I do,” he answered as he poured coffee into both mugs.
“Why?”
“I have no fucking idea. You’re beautiful either way. But I prefer to see your skin rather than caked on makeup. It’s not you.”
He wasn’t joking when he said the coverage was excessive. To make my scars completely invisible it took a lot of time, effort and a whole lot of makeup. I used layers, each one thicker than the last. “Nobody ever really sees the real me.”
Dane grasped my upper arm and pulled me forward, then swung his body around to trap me against the counter. “I see you, Kenzie,” he growled. “I notice every single thing about you. I know your nervous habits, your likes and dislikes, and I know when you aren’t telling me everything. I know you’ve always handled stuff on your own, but you don’t need to do that anymore. I’m here to help if you let me.”
Our eyes locked, and I could see the sincerity in his gaze. I wanted to trust Dane, but my need to stay alive was still so close to the surface that I wasn’t sure I could. “Thanks,” I uttered.
“Will you let me?” His stare was penetrating, leaving me bare and vulnerable, exactly what I was trying to avoid.
“I’m fine,” I insisted. “You’ve given me a good job, a nice home to live in. That’s more than enough.”
“It’s nothing,” he answered. “You have to put up with my sorry ass. You should probably get combat pay.”
I bit my lip to keep from smiling. “You aren’t so bad.”
Honestly, Dane was probably one of the nicest people I’d ever had as a boss. He’d been encouraging in his own gruff way, and he was teaching me things I’d never had the chance to learn before.
Yeah, he had kissed me, but I was fairly sure I’d been begging him to do it with pleading eyes. He wasn’t the type to come on to a woman if she didn’t want his attention.
“I’m attracted to you,” I blurted out before I could temper the statement.
“Yeah. I don’t really get that,” he said in a confused tone.
Unable to stop myself, I reached out a finger to trace his scars.
He flinched, but then let me touch him. “There’s more to you than just your superficial appearance,” I mused. “I know you think your scars are ugly, but they really aren’t. They’re just part of who you are, and your experiences with life.”
“My life experiences suck.”
“Mine, too,” I said softly. “Maybe that’s why I love your painting so much. I could feel a kindred spirit, I think.”
He reached up and grasped my hand, and then held it against his cheek. “How’s that?”
“I could feel the despair and anger in your paintings, but I also felt a tiny sliver of hope.”
“The hope part was probably painted by accident,” he informed me.
“No, it was not,” I protested. “It was there.”
“Buried deeply inside the anger and despair,” he said teasingly.
I shrugged. “Sometimes. But it was still present.”
His grip went to my wrist, and he slowly pulled my hand down. “The things that happened to you weren’t fair, Kenzie. At least I had a childhood until my father died. I came up privileged and spoiled. But my dad gave me a good foundation. I just never had a chance to put it to work in the real world. But that was my choice. You didn’t get to choose much of anything. And when you finally got free of your parents, you ended up in the hands of some of the worst motherfuckers in existence.”
&nb
sp; Dane entwined our fingers, and I don’t think he even noticed that he was still clutching my hand in a death grip.
“I had Paige,” I argued. “Her friendship made me believe that not all people were bad.”
“They aren’t all bad,” he agreed. “But I’m probably the biggest dick you’ll ever meet. And I can’t stop my attraction to you, either. I’ve probably wanted you almost from the moment I saw you. Trying to make you leave was a knee-jerk reaction to wanting you.”
“We can’t act on the attraction,” I said desperately.
“Who is going to stop us?” he asked. “Kenzie, nothing bad is going to happen if we do.”
I didn’t entirely believe him. I’d spent my whole life waiting for the hammer to come down, waiting for something bad to happen. And it almost always did.
I yanked at my hand, suddenly uncomfortable with the conversation. “We can start over,” I suggested as Dane finally released my hand. “We can just forget what happened yesterday.”
He shook his head. “Not possible. I’ve wanted you in my bed since the first time I saw you.”
“Is that why you decided to let me stay?” I asked in a tremulous voice.
“No. I let you stay because somewhere deep inside me, there probably is still a part of me that wants to be fair and help someone who is trying as hard as you are. It just felt like the right thing to do.”
“Do you regret it?”
It had only been a little over a week, but I hoped he didn’t have any misgivings now.
“I don’t. You’re starting to make yourself irreplaceable.”
My heart clenched. “Good. I want to be useful.”
He reached up and tipped my chin up so he could look directly into my eyes. “You’re more than useful, Kenzie. Don’t ever forget that.”
I wasn’t used to any kind of compliment, so his words threw me. “I’ll go and wash the makeup off. You’re right. It does bother me, especially here.”
It was a mask I was used to wearing, but it didn’t feel all that necessary anymore on Walker’s Cay.
I’d effectively managed to cover myself this morning, a move that I hoped would put some distance between Dane and myself. Unfortunately, it had done the exact opposite. He knew what I was trying to do, and he seemed determined to bring my walls down around my feet.
He looked hesitant for a moment, like he wanted to say or do something, then he let go of my chin. “Fine. I’ll cook.”
“Please don’t,” I pleaded. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
“What? I can manage to fry some bacon or something,” he protested.
I raced toward the stairs, hoping he wouldn’t really get started before I got back. Dane had tried to help me in the kitchen once or twice. It hadn’t turned out so good.
“Don’t start without me,” I called over my shoulder.
My heart skipped a beat as I raced up the stairs, almost certain that I’d actually heard Dane Walker laugh.
Chapter 17
Dane
I wasn’t sure why in the hell I’d switched the painting I was working on, but I had more focus on what was in front of me now.
It was another seascape, in oil this time, and something I hadn’t really practiced since my mentor, a master at sea paintings, had left the island to go back home.
I was more comfortable with oils, but I wasn’t so sure about the subject of my work. I didn’t do real pictures. I did abstract emotions. But for some reason, working on the perfect sunset over the ocean drew me.
Strangely, I was learning that I could pour emotions out on canvas with any subject. The scene I was painting was dark, the ocean churning with waves and a burnish brightness of the setting sun over a dark and angry sea.
Hell, that was kind of the way I was feeling. Kenzie was the light, and I was the tempestuous ocean. All I really wanted to do was sink down into her like the setting sun.
“Shit!” I cursed, realizing that everything I was painting depicted what I wanted in real life. “She’s driving me crazy.”
Kenzie had left the kitchen this morning and washed off all of her makeup, an action that had my complete approval. Her skin was beautiful and perfect, her nearly invisible scars a symbol of how much she’d been through in her past.
I told her life hadn’t been fair, and it was especially true in her case. How did one person live through her shitty childhood, and equally crappy adult life?
It wasn’t hard to believe she’d had modeling aspirations. She was fucking gorgeous, even with the blemishes on her face. Washing off the makeup did nothing to curb my urges to pin her up against the wall and take exactly what my cock was clamoring to get.
I wanted her to experience hundreds of kinds of pleasure, all of them taught by me.
“I’m never going to survive this,” I told myself as I stood in my studio examining what I’d done so far on my current project. “She’ll kill me.”
I knew I sure as hell wasn’t going to be able to stop touching her. Knowing she felt a similar attraction didn’t help me, either. All it did was make it harder not to try to get her into my bed. I wanted more than just her body. With Kenzie, I wanted every part of her, and that scared the hell out of me.
Seeing her every day, having another person I liked to talk to was slowly beginning to change me. Whether that was good or bad was still undetermined. But it felt good. It felt right having Kenzie here, and I wasn’t going to ignore something that had helped me start to regain my sanity again.
So much time on the Cay alone had been starting to get to me. Hell, maybe I’d started to lose my mind a long time ago, but I hadn’t really given a damn because I hadn’t wanted to be vulnerable.
“Dane?” a hesitant voice called softly from the door of my studio.
I turned to see Kenzie standing at the door, backlit by the bright sunshine. “Yeah?”
She smiled at me as she said, “Steph is ready to take your last painting. I just need you to sign the contract.”
“I’ll do it when I get back to the house,” I agreed.
“Okay,” she muttered, then turned to leave again.
“Wait!” I demanded.
“I don’t want to disturb you,” she said.
Damned if that sweet, feminine tone didn’t get my dick harder than it already was just from seeing her beautiful face.
“You’re not bothering me,” I confessed. “I think I’m done for the day.”
Once I saw her, I didn’t want to unsee her. Kenzie was an addiction, and I never seemed to get enough of her uplifting presence.
Seeing her smile had just made my damn day.
“Can I see it?” she asked curiously, waving her hand toward my current work.
“Yeah,” I consented. “I still have a lot to do. I was working on something different, but I’m not in a place where I want to finish it, so I’m working on another canvas.”
She moved closer, and the scent of coconut and heat invaded my nostrils. I breathed in deeply, then let out the air slowly, savoring the smell of Kenzie.
“Oh, my God. It’s…amazing.” Her breathless expression made me want to reach out and wrap my arms around her waist so I could feel her soft, curvy body plastered to mine.
“I’m hoping I’ll see another sunset like last night,” I told her. “I didn’t take a camera for pictures.”
“I love it,” she said as she cocked her head to examine what I’d done. “It’s raw and beautiful.”
“Then it’s yours once it’s done,” I stated.
Maybe having some of my work would give Kenzie some kind of security. I didn’t give a damn what she did with it. If she needed the money someday, she could sell the stupid thing.
She gasped. “No, Dane. I could never accept that kind of gift. Your paintings get at least seven figures. And this one is unique.”
“I don’t give a damn about the money. I never have. Keep it, or sell it. I don’t care. But I am giving it to you as a gift. When’s your birthday?”
She hesitated before she answered, “Next month. The sixteenth.”
“Mine, too,” I confided. “The fifteenth. I’ll be twenty-six. So you can take it as a birthday gift. How old?”
“Twenty-six,” she replied.
“I’m one day older than you are.”
“I’m not taking your painting,” she denied. “It’s incredible enough that I get to look at them.”
She’d take the painting, and any future work she wanted. But I didn’t feel like arguing with her right now.
“Do something with me?” I asked in a tone that sounded more like a command. “Let’s celebrate our birthdays together.”
I could argue with her about the paintings later.
“Sebastian called. He and Paige are getting married the day before your birthday. Paige wants me to stand up with her as her maid of honor.”
“Do you want to go?” I asked.
“Yes. I’m really honored that she wants me to be in her wedding. Sebastian wants you to be in it, too.”
She frowned, emphasizing the small crinkle between her eyebrows when she did.
I let out an exasperated sigh. “Okay. But we go out after and celebrate. It’s a damn miracle that you made it to your twenty-sixth birthday.”
She let out a startled laugh. “I guess maybe it is. Thank you so much. I don’t want to miss my best friend’s wedding.”
I knew she was sincere. Kenzie was the type of woman who would be there for a friend, even though life hadn’t been particularly kind to her.
“It’s not like I wasn’t going anyway,” I shared.
“But you thought about skipping it,” she answered.
“How did you know?”
“Because the longer you avoid something, the harder it is to fix. You haven’t seen your family for over a year.”
“I’ll see them at the wedding,” I grumbled.
“It’s going to be a gorgeous ceremony,” she said excitedly. “Eva and Paige have been planning this for weeks.”
