by Burton, Mary
It would take a day or two for Ortiz’s information to work up through the chain of Benito’s command—the mobster trusted few, and every bit of information was screened before presented to Benito. But by the middle of the week, Benito would receive the news. And he would send his people to check out the story. And with luck, would follow shortly after that.
Kristen was in grave danger now.
Lucian was watching her house for the moment. But as savvy as the computer guy was, he was accustomed to working from the shadows. He’d never dealt with the likes of Benito and his men face-to-face.
No, Dane had put Kristen in direct danger and he would see to it she stayed safe.
He checked his watch. The sooner he got back to her the better.
Chapter 9
Kristen was waiting in the front entryway for Cambia when she caught her reflection in the Plexiglas Yoga Studio sign that hung behind the reception desk. She ran her hand through her short hair. It still startled her and she wondered if she’d ever get to the point where she recognize herself in the mirror again
She frowned at the black roots. They were getting too long. She’d have to find a drugstore tomorrow and buy more hair dye.
She’d been so careful, and she didn’t want something as foolish as hair color to trip her up.
Her outfit was beyond simple: jeans, a white T-shirt and black sandals she’d bought at the Goodwill in North Carolina.
By all standards, she’d come down in the world. She had next to nothing and each day was an unknown. But in truth, she had never felt better. Benito was out of her life and the taste of freedom was so much sweeter than any expensive champagne Benito had paid for.
This was her life. All that she had, she’d earned. No one was paying doormen to get her to the front of the line. No one was feeding her compliments so they could get to her brother. This new life of hers wasn’t perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but it was all hers and she was proud of it.
The rumble of Dane’s truck pulled her out of her thoughts. She checked her watch. Seven on the dot. Her stomach fluttered as she watched him climb out of the cab. He’d changed into a white collared shirt, worn khakis and his work boots. His hair was wet from a shower and he’d shaved. He moved round to the front of the truck, his swagger hinting at military service.
For the first time in months she wished she’d had a bit of perfume to dab between her ears and maybe a tube of lipstick to brighten her lips. So much had changed in her life, but the streak of vanity had not vanished.
She went outside. “Right on time,” she said. She smiled as she closed and locked the front door.
Even white teeth flashed. “I’m a stickler for time.”
She moved down the steps, savoring the way he looked at her. Many men had leered at her in her life and she’d ignored most. Since Carlos, only Dane’s intense gaze made her knees feel weak.
All day, she’d thought about when she’d kissed Dane. She’d chocked up the insanity of those kisses to loneliness and the need to feel connected to someone else. But now she knew she’d have been drawn to Dane even if she still had the legion of acquaintances and money she’d once had.
Dane Cambia stood out in a crowd.
“So where are we going?” he said, meeting her on the sidewalk. “You said there is a deli close by?”
“It’s called Winston’s. Sheridan told me about it. It’s very good.”
He squeezed her hand gently. “Then let’s go.”
When they reached the car, she hesitated and waited for him to open the door. He started around the front of the car until he saw her standing there. “Everything okay?”
Kristen realized her blunder. Elena would have expected a man to open her door but Kristen never would have. For nine months, she’d denied all things feminine. But since Dane had walked into her life, she’d been very aware that she was a woman.
Feeling a little foolish, she pretended to fix her shoe and then reached for the door handle. “My shoelace needed tying.”
“Right.” A smile lifted the edge of his lips. He didn’t believe her.
Kristen sat in the front seat, examining the interior, hoping for insight into the man. It was neat, organized. A large empty convenience-store coffee cup sat in the cup holder and there was an uneaten pack of Nabs tucked in the side pocket of his seat.
Without saying a word, he started the car and put it into Drive. Soon he was moving down the street. “Which way?”
“Take your first left.” She’d only been in town two weeks but she’d already learned the streets, a habit she’d developed since she’d been on the run. Always good to know the escape routes.
She directed him through two more turns and within minutes he’d pulled into the deli lot. This time she opened her door without hesitating and met him on his side of the car. Together they walked toward the front entrance, where he reached the door first and opened it for her. As she entered he pressed his hand into the small of her back. The protective gesture pleased her more than it should have.
The deli was filled with round blue tables surrounded by scuffed chairs. A large glass case filled with meats, cheeses, pickles and breads dominated the front of the room. Above the counter a chalk-drawn menu hung on the wall. In the corner an old-style jukebox played John Cougar Mellencamp’s “Jack and Diane.”
Kristen and Cambia each placed their orders and when they reached the register, she dug her money out of her pocket.
“This is on me,” Cambia said.
“No,” she said firmly. “I pay my own way.” It was another habit she’d developed since she’d been on the run. She didn’t want to be dependent on anyone, nor did she want to owe anyone anything.
He pulled out his worn leather wallet. “Kristen, I insist.”
She straightened out her ten-dollar bill. “As do I.”
She met the cashier’s gaze and pointed to the Reuben and water. “These are mine.”
“No, I’m paying for it all,” Dane said to the cashier.
The teenaged clerk glanced between the two of them as if he wasn’t sure who to obey. Kristen remained firm, but it wasn’t until Cambia gave the clerk the nod to take Kristen’s money that he did.
Cambia paid for his meal. He followed her to a small table by the large glass front window that looked out onto the square of old town.
Kristen took her time wiping the table clean with a napkin, removing her food from her tray and arranging her napkin. Dane grinned as he watched her. “You take your meals seriously.”
She blushed under his gaze. In the old days sit-down, formal meals were common, and she took them for granted; but now she treated a real meal as an event. Simple pleasures. “Yes, I know. I am a bit foolish when it comes to my meals. But I believe we eat with our eyes first and that it’s important to have a proper table setting.”
He sat down and stared at her, his meal untouched.
“You don’t belong in a place like this.”
Kristen shook her head. “Yes. I do.”
“You’re not a kid off the streets. You were born to money.”
She unfolded her paper napkin and smoothed it over her lap. “I don’t know what you mean.”
He leaned forward, lowering his voice a fraction. “Come on. You walk like you are the queen of England, you never have a hair out of place even when you’re working and you just spent five minutes setting the table in a simple deli. Let’s face it, you don’t belong in a place like this.”
She glanced around the room. The deli was filled with mostly young college kids in worn T-shirts, jeans and flip-flops. The guy behind them, a tall lanky kid with mustard stains on a tie-dyed shirt was already halfway through his sandwich and his chips were gone.
“You’re wrong.” She didn’t want to talk about herself. She sipped her cup of water and shifted tactics. “I’ve been wondering why you showed up so early today?”
Expressionless, Dane bit into a chip. “Yeah?”
She set her cup down
. “And I think I know why.”
He picked up his turkey club. “That so?”
Feeling awkward, she hesitated. “Are you living in your car?”
His eyes widened. “What?”
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” she rushed to say.
Amusement flickered in his eyes. “Why would you think that?”
“Because you just showed up this morning. It was almost as if you had been parked outside overnight.”
He stared at her, saying nothing. Men could be proud, vain creatures and she suspected she’d offended him. “I’m not judging. I’m half on the streets myself. Fact is, I have been on the streets several times these last few months.”
“Why have you been on the streets?” he said.
She shook her head. “No, you’ve done that a couple of times.”
“What?”
“Turned the conversation back to me when you don’t want to talk about yourself.”
“Who just turned the conversation around a second ago?”
“That is beside the point. Why don’t you talk about yourself?”
“Maybe you are getting too personal.”
That caught her short. Embarrassment turned her cheeks red. “Perhaps I have grown too forward during these last few months. I didn’t used to be like that.”
He shrugged. “You are direct, I’ll give you that.”
She picked a piece of bread off her sandwich and popped it in her mouth. “Look, you don’t have to tell me where you are living, but I can tell you where there is acceptable and cheap housing near here.”
Her offer seemed to bother him. “Why would you help me? You don’t even know me.”
“I like you,” she said honestly. “If you need money or a place to stay, I have a little saved up.”
The fact that she had money seemed to worry him. “Don’t tell people you have money.”
“I’m not telling people. I’m telling you. I decided sometime today when I was dragging lumber to the Dumpster that you are a good man.”
Disapproval darkened Dane’s eyes. “Don’t bet on it.”
Dane hadn’t counted on the fact that Kristen had money. Money equaled mobility. And he didn’t want her mobile now.
But that was not a problem he could solve now, so he tucked it away, refusing to worry. He kept the rest of the evening light. They talked about music, the construction business and even politics, but neither offered any more personal information. Light and impersonal suited them both.
Dane drove Kristen back to the Yoga Studio and walked her up to the front door. Under the glow of the porch light, he waited as she dug the key out of her purse and opened the front door.
The take-out bag dangling from her arm, she faced him and smiled. “I had a good time.”
He was sorry the evening was going to end. “Me too.”
Without thinking, he raised his hand to her cheek and touched her blond hair. He traced her jawline and then her lips. He wanted to taste her again.
Kristen stared up at him, her full, moist lips slightly parted. “I made the first move last time. Now it’s your turn.”
Dane traced her brow with his fingertip. “I want to.”
“Then do it,” she said softly.
Dane tensed and released his jaw. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. Soft. Supple. Those lips drew him in and before he realized it, he wrapped his arm around her and deepened the kiss. The take-out bag poked his ribs so he pulled it out of her hand and set it on the porch.
Her scent wrapped around him. A soft moan rumbled deep in her chest as she pressed her breasts against his chest. She wanted him.
His tongue moved inside her mouth, caressing the velvet folds. Her hands pressed against his chest and she grabbed handfuls of his shirt and pulled him closer as if she wanted them to melt into each other.
Dane wanted to take her upstairs and make love to her right now. The primitive urge burned in his veins, making it difficult for him to think of anything else. His erection pressed against her as he kissed her harder.
But when he thought the need would sweep all reason from his mind, he found the strength to pull back. As much as he wanted her, he needed to stay objective. “I better get going.”
Confusion darkened her eyes as she moistened her lips. “I don’t want you to leave.”
“It’s not good to mix business and pleasure.”
His rejection surprised her, and the hurt showed in her eyes.
He squeezed her shoulder and then stepped back. “When the job is done, Kristen. When the job is done.”
Chapter 10
Friday, May 18, 1:25 a.m.
There was a storm brewing. And Kristen couldn’t sleep. She’d lain awake for nearly an hour, listening to the creaks and moans of the old building as the wind washed over the house.
Soon the rains would come and make the air smell clean again.
Oddly, she felt fresh tonight and didn’t need the rains to bathe away her past and worries. Memories of Antonio didn’t consume her. Instead, she thought only of Dane. He’d brought life into her life.
She’d enjoyed their dinner together. It had been fun just to talk to someone over a good meal. Their laughter had rejuvenated her soul.
Why she’d thought to ask him about his living arrangements was beyond her. His life was none of her business. But she cared about him. He was a lost soul like her, belonging to no one. A kindred spirit.
He’d told her not to trust him.
But she did.
It made no sense. Trusting a near stranger defied all logic and reason. But the connection she felt between them was very real.
When he’d broken the kiss tonight, she’d felt lost.
“You are being a silly, lonely woman,” Kristen told herself. “Your hormones are driving you now, not your mind.”
Irritated, she sat up. If sleep would not come, then she would work. There were still piles of drywall dust and splinters in the soon-to-be meditation/tearoom. Perhaps a little sweeping would center her mind.
Kristen slept fully dressed, a habit she’d adopted since she’d fled the safe house. She turned on the hall lights and moved down the steps, flipping on more lights as she entered each new section of the house.
She went into the room under construction and grabbed the broom. As she swept the dust into neat piles, she tried not to think about Dane or whether he would be in her life a week from now.
Outside, a crack of thunder and a flash of lightning made her jump. The storm was going to be a big one.
She swept the debris into the dustpan and dumped it into an empty paper grocery bag. Within an hour the entire room and entry hallway was clean.
Lifting the grocery bag, Kristen headed back through the studio to the door that led to the alley. She unlatched the back door, glanced left and then right and hurried to the Dumpster. Lightning cracked. Fat rain droplets started to fall.
As she dashed back, she heard a can hit the ground.
She whirled around, her fists raised, her heart hammering in her chest. Her eyes strained in the darkness to see who was out there.
Another clap of thunder roared across the sky. Seconds later, lightning flashed again. In that moment of near daylight brightness, she saw Crystal sitting in the alley, her back pressed against the brick wall.
The girl had her feet tucked under her and she clutched her backpack. She held her coat up against her for warmth.
Kristen looked again down the alley, fearing Tony was close. There was no sign of him. “Crystal.”
The girl brushed stringy blond hair from her face. “Go way. I’m trying to sleep.”
Fat droplets hit Kristen. Soon, they’d both be soaked. And yet she walked toward the girl, her heart softening even as her mind screamed that the girl was trouble. Lord, but she didn’t need more problems on her plate.
And still, she heard herself say, “It’s raining. Why don’t you come inside? I’ll make you tea.”
Crystal didn’t mo
ve. “No, thanks, I like this spot.”
More rain started to fall. Kristen hugged her arms over her chest. “I have half a sandwich left over from dinner. It’s good.” She’d intended to eat the food for her own lunch and dinner tomorrow, but the girl needed it more now.
Crystal sniffed. “What kind of sandwich?”
“A Reuben. Corned beef.”
Crystal moistened her lips. “Okay. But I’m not staying long.”
“Stay as long as you like.”
Kristen watched the girl rise, clutching her backpack as she moved. She let the girl pass before following her into the building. Immediately, the quiet energy of the house/studio changed. Turmoil swirled around the girl.
Crystal nervously patted her thigh. “So where’s the sandwich?”
Kristen checked the lock on the back door. “Up the back stairs in my apartment.”
Crystal peered up the lighted stairway. “You live here?”
“For the last couple of weeks.”
“I wondered why Sheridan was spending so much more time at the youth center.”
“I open for her now so she doesn’t have to get up so early.”
Adjusting her backpack on her shoulder, Crystal started up the stairs. When she reached the top landing she waited for Kristen to open the door to her apartment and then peered inside as if she half expected someone to pounce on her. “It’s small.”
“It’s all I need.”
“When I graduate from college and I get my own place it’s going to be big. Vaulted ceilings, huge windows and carpet so thick your feet sinks into it.”
“Sounds nice.”
Crystal set her backpack on the small round table. “It is. And it’s going to be at the beach. I saw a house on HGTV just a couple of weeks ago that was exactly what I wanted.”
Kristen moved to the refrigerator and opened it. She pulled out the white foam take-out box. The house she’d shared with her brother had been enormous and had overlooked the ocean. The view had been stunning; she’d been miserable. “Where do you live now?”
