by J. S. Scott
Kenzie isn’t just another female.
Hell, I’d known that since the moment I’d set eyes on her. I wasn’t going to deny that I wanted her, but it wasn’t just sexual.
I ran a frustrated hand through my hair and then rested my head against the back of the couch, staring at the ceiling, wondering how I was going to get Kenzie to forget all about my stupidity.
I hurt her. I’d seen the naked, vulnerable, wounded look on her face, and it made my damn chest ache with remorse.
Pretty much everybody except Paige had disappointed Kenzie, and the last thing I wanted to be was just another person who she thought only wanted her for one thing. Truth was, I wanted her for almost everything.
I wanted to have breakfast and coffee with her every morning.
I wanted to be in the same room as she was just because it made me happy.
I wanted to be the one she came to whenever she needed to talk or just to have somebody who cared about her close to her.
I wanted to be everything for her.
But I’d turned into the one that she had to run away from because I offered her money for sex.
“I didn’t mean it. That’s not what I want,” I said, so pissed off that I hated myself.
I don’t sell my body.
Her words had been like a slap alongside my head. I’d treated the woman who meant so much to me like a common prostitute. And I detested myself for doing it.
Kenzie had jerked me out of my solitude in a good way.
And I’d repaid her with one of the biggest insults a person could ever get.
I can go to her. I can apologize. Tell her I didn’t mean it.
However, I’d held back for a reason. Words meant nothing to Kenzie. She’d been hurt too many times to believe whatever came out of a person’s mouth. Actions spoke louder than words, and I was going to have to prove to her that I could keep my hands to myself. I needed her to know she had more value than just her body.
It was clear that she wanted to be alone. Not that I could blame her.
I’ll leave her alone, but it won’t be easy.
My best option was to try to be a friend before I became her lover. Really, I wanted her trust more than I wanted to fuck her. Okay, maybe it didn’t seem like her trust was a priority because my balls were blue, but I wanted all of Kenzie, and most of all, I needed her to know that I was her safe haven, the guy who would never hurt her.
I wanted to call Trace and ask him what he would do if he was in my position, but I stifled the urge. It wasn’t like there was a gaggle of women on the island. He’d make one conclusion, even if I asked it hypothetically, and he’d be correct since Kenzie was the only female on the island. Besides, Trace would never blow it like I had.
As I thought about the wild-eyed look of panic and pain I’d seen on Kenzie’s face, I knew I was going to have to play it cool.
Much as I wanted to go see if she was okay, I had to back off and give her time and space.
“I’m sorry,” I said to the ceiling since there was nobody around to listen to me. Kenzie had given me her trust, and when she panicked, I wasn’t there to calm her fears. Instead, I’d acted like a spoiled rich bastard who could buy what I wanted.
There were things she wasn’t telling me, but I’d let her decide when and what she wanted to reveal.
I stood, knowing I was going to have to make sure she was okay. I wouldn’t back her in a corner; I just had to know that she was all right.
I left the pottery room I’d set up for her, cursing myself again for being a prick as I sprinted up the stairs, stopping in front of Kenzie’s door on the way to my room.
The only thing I could hear was the hum of the shower, and the faint, muffled noise of running water.
She’s okay. She’s in the shower.
My heart was pounding in my ears, and I had to fight back the compulsion to talk to her.
It was Kenzie’s move. I’d given up the right to insist on anything when I’d said something incredibly stupid.
Move on. Give her space.
I was never really sure how I’d found the strength to turn away from her door and walk down the hall to my own bedroom.
My gut ached like I’d taken a sucker punch as I entered my suite.
I dropped my clothes as I made my way to the shower, stunned as I turned the corner and saw my own reflection.
The first thing I saw was my scars.
Moving closer, I examined the markings. Yeah, they’d definitely faded, but they were still on full display. I could see every one of them since I was buck naked.
Were they as bad as they used to be? No
Could I still see them? Oh, hell, yeah.
I touched the scar on my abdomen where they’d done surgery on my internal organs to stop the bleeding. I touched a few more surgical scars before I moved to my face.
It was possible that no children would run away in fear, but the markings and burns that had occurred were glaringly obvious to me.
“I had a woman who didn’t care if I was scarred, and I screwed things up,” I rasped, still angry with myself.
I turned away from my reflection, pissed off that I’d even stopped to look at it in the first place.
My imperfections were never going to go away.
My scars would never disappear.
I went to take a shower, hoping that getting myself off would relieve some of my tension and erase the memory of Kenzie’s reaction to my offer to make her nothing more than a glorified prostitute.
It didn’t work.
Her hurt expression haunted me.
In my mind, I probably deserved it.
CHAPTER 22
Kenzie
It took me a few weeks to finally get my emotions completely contained.
Dane was suitably distant, a fact that had both crushed me and made me grateful at the same time.
I was grateful because the more I was able to get my emotions in check, the easier it was to deal with him on a work basis.
However, I couldn’t stop wanting him, so I was crushed when he had turned cooler and broodier.
We had a working relationship, and I never stepped over that line again.
I was the perfect personal assistant.
I didn’t put my nose into his business unless it directly affected his art.
After work, I usually didn’t stick around the house. I explored the island, sometimes wandering farther down the coast to find a nice spot to work on drawings of whatever caught my attention.
Very seldom could I be in the pottery room Dane had set up for me. I’d tried, but every time I entered that space, I thought about what had happened between me and Dane.
I couldn’t think about that without giving in to a depression I didn’t want to experience. I’d completely lost my head that day, something that just didn’t happen to me. I always had to be on high alert, and I didn’t ever completely give myself over to anybody. It was a mistake I couldn’t afford to make.
Since I didn’t really want to spend time in his studio, either, I’d spent the majority of my time sketching images of things I’d like to paint.
Until today.
I was going to be forced into his company for days, whether I liked it or not, since we’d already landed in Maui for Paige and Sebastian’s wedding.
It had been a long flight, and I was exhausted by the time we finally checked into our rooms. I wasn’t sure if it was emotional or physical, but just being near Dane was…difficult.
“Maybe I could get a room of my own,” I told him in my professional voice that I’d been using for the last few weeks.
Granted, we were in a suite at the resort, the same hotel where Paige and Sebastian were holding the ceremony. But it just felt awkward to be stuck in the same space as Dane.
�
�I booked the suite intentionally,” he countered. “It’s easier to have us here together. It’s not like I’m asking you to hop into my damn bed. You have your own bedroom.”
I did have my own sleeping area, and the last thing I wanted was to sound ungrateful. There was no way I could have afforded accommodations like this grand suite. I would have found the nearest cheap hotel, and those didn’t exactly look common in Maui. “I’m sorry,” I told him in a clipped voice, a tone certain to push Dane away. “It’s a beautiful room. I just don’t want to intrude on your privacy.”
Actually, I didn’t want to be near him because I was afraid I’d lose my professional cool and beg him to fuck me, but I wasn’t about to tell him that.
“You aren’t intruding,” he rumbled as he flopped on the couch with a drink he’d made for himself from the bar. “I want you to be here.”
I didn’t know what to say to that comment, so I left it alone. It had been a while since Dane had mentioned anything personal. Of course, it could be that he wanted me nearby to do things for him. Maybe it wasn’t meant as a personal comment. I was, after all, his personal assistant. “I can’t wait to see Paige,” I said, changing the subject.
There was plenty of square footage in the suite. I just had a hard time being so damn close to him all the time. It was my hang-up, not his. And I did want to be in the resort for convenience. We had a few days of preliminary activities before the actual ceremony.
“Sebastian texted. They’ll be back shortly. He took Paige out to pick up some things she needs.”
“Do you want me to unpack your stuff?” I asked like a good personal assistant.
“Hell, no. We aren’t here for that long. And I’m perfectly capable of putting away my own damn underwear.”
“Are we joining Sebastian and Trace for dinner tonight?” Paige was having a quiet dinner with just her parents and family.
He was silent for a moment before he spoke. “Yeah. I guess.”
I knew he didn’t want to go out, but he was participating for his brothers’ sakes. He hadn’t seen them in over a year.
“They’ll be happy to see you,” I answered as I went over to the bar for something to drink.
We’d had a long flight, and I was pretty sure that Dane was as tired as I was, but he wasn’t going to ditch his family.
“It’s a small affair,” I mentioned, taking a seat beside the couch after getting myself a drink of water.
I was hoping to make him feel comfortable. It was obvious to me that he was feeling like a duck out of water. Maybe I recognized it in him because I was feeling that way myself. I hadn’t gotten personal since that day in the pottery room, but it was almost impossible for me to ignore his fear of being out in public.
“It’s in a restaurant. Too many people around.”
“Dane, your scars don’t matter. They’re not even very noticeable.” I wondered if he’d ever bothered to look in the mirrors he’d finally installed in his home. Theo had told me that he’d put mirrors up in all the bathrooms, so I presumed that included Dane’s bathroom too.
“Bullshit! I see them perfectly from my bathroom mirror.”
Okay, so he’d looked.
He continued, “And they aren’t something I can cover up.”
“Like I do?” I questioned in a hushed voice.
“I’m not judging you,” he answered brusquely.
“I’ll leave my cover-up behind if you try not to think about your scars,” I offered. I hadn’t tried very hard to hide the blemishes on my face. Dane accepted them, and so did Theo and Emilee. I did a light, natural makeup most days, but not the pile of makeup that I used to use to hide.
“It doesn’t matter what you do. You’re fucking beautiful.”
I sighed. Even though Dane kept his distance, he didn’t hold back on the compliments. “And you’re handsome,” I informed him. “Your scars won’t make a damn bit of difference to most people.”
“I’ll try,” he grunted. “But no promises if I start to scare little kids.”
He’d shared his experience about the little girl he’d run into years ago while he was Christmas shopping. He’d mentioned it briefly a few days ago when we were getting ready to leave. It had made it difficult for me to keep my distance, and I hadn’t known what to say. I’d nearly lost my appearance of being just his assistant when he’d shared how he’d felt years ago. “You were wearing a ton of bandages,” I reminded him. “It wasn’t your scars. It was the mass of gauze that made you look like a scary monster to her.”
He shrugged. “Whatever.”
The easiest way to show Dane that he wasn’t going to draw attention, other than women who would probably be eyeing him as a prospective lover, was to keep taking him out.
I was hoping that once he was desensitized, he’d lose his desire to stay holed up on his island all the time.
Luckily, Paige had plenty of things planned.
I swallowed the last of my water and stood. “I have to press my dress for dinner tonight. I wish I had something a little dressier. Maybe I should have gone with Theo to Nassau.”
Thanks to Dane, I had money. I’d spent very little on the island, so the majority of his generous advance check was still in my bank.
“Do you want to go find something? I could probably use something a little nicer myself. I have my tux for the wedding, but I didn’t bring anything that’s appropriate for all the things that Paige has planned.”
Even though I’d informed him that there would be preliminaries, I don’t think he’d been ready for the amount of time we were going to spend out of our rooms.
My heart skipped a beat. I couldn’t believe that Dane was actually offering to take me out in public. He didn’t have to. He was volunteering. Considering how much he hated being in public, I couldn’t ignore his invitation. “I’d like to,” I admitted.
“Then we’ll go,” he answered, the muscle ticking in his jaw from tension. “We can kill the time before dinner.”
Before he could change his mind, I gathered up my purse and sunglasses. “I’m ready.”
He rose from his seat, and then picked up his own dark sunglasses and slid them onto his face.
I began to walk toward the door, only to have Dane grasp my upper arm. “I never meant to hurt you, Kenzie. I swear.”
His simple touch made my heart dance. I wanted to give up the fight of being nothing more than an assistant, but my logical brain curtailed that train of thought.
I knew he had never meant to injure me. He wasn’t that type of guy. But that didn’t mean we weren’t worlds apart.
Yes, it had hurt when he’d treated me like nothing more than a prostitute but that pain wasn’t what had kept me away from him.
Dane was dangerous to me, and I was used to protecting and saving myself.
“I know you didn’t,” I said, my voice little more than a whisper.
“I hate this relationship,” he rasped as his hand tightened around my upper arm. “I hate the fact that I can’t just talk to you about anything that comes to mind. I miss what we had before I completely blew it.”
“Being friends?” I questioned.
“You being yourself,” he corrected.
“I was stupid,” I revealed. “I should have never let anything more happen between us. We come from very different lives.”
“Yet, we’re very much the same,” he grumbled.
He was right. Dane and I had faced different but similar struggles. If nothing else, I did want to be his friend. But how could I manage it without crossing the line? I had no willpower when it came to him. “We understand each other,” I admitted.
“Then can we stop this shit and feel free to talk about anything we want?”
Could we? I honestly wasn’t sure. But maybe if we got close as friends, I could shake off the torment that was threatening to
drive me insane.
“I’ll try,” I agreed reluctantly. We both needed companionship, and our relationship had been so much more pleasant in the beginning when we were less guarded.
I can protect myself and mange to be friendly.
At least, I wanted to think I could.
“That’s all I ask for right now,” he said in a relieved tone.
“It’s all I can give.”
Dane let go of my arm and headed toward the door as he said, “Then I guess I’ll have to be satisfied with that for now.”
I let out a relieved breath. “Let’s go find something nice at the stores,” I said, trying to sound upbeat.
I was excited to be in Hawaii for the first time, and I wanted to see everything.
As we stepped out the door, I could only hope that I hadn’t made a very big mistake.
CHAPTER 23
Kenzie
Even though Dane had given me a very generous advance, and I had money in my bank account, I cringed at the prices in the shops at the resort.
I’d rarely bought new clothes. Most of them came from a thrift store, and I got creative with those items. So not only was I buying something new, but I was looking at spending a small fortune for a dress I might never wear again.
The thrifty woman in me shuddered as I looked at the prices on the dresses in the designer stores.
I didn’t do dressy restaurants or parties, so I hardly knew the etiquette on what to wear.
Dane had followed behind me through several shops, waiting patiently as I covetously eyed the beautiful clothing.
“Are you going to buy some stuff, or are we just looking?” he said, his tone a mix of irritation and humor.
“I’m looking,” I said defensively.
What was I hoping to find? Maybe something on clearance, or at least on sale. I hadn’t seen a discount price anywhere. Everything was full retail, and more than I’d previously spent on rent for a good six months.
“You haven’t seen a single dress that you like?”
“I’ve seen some,” I said evasively.
