She sighed and yanked on the car door.
He leaned against it and crossed his big, gorgeous arms over his chest.
Throwing her hands up, she exhaled an exasperated sigh. "Okay. Whatever. I will not accept his calls. And I will send out the bat signal if he dares to show up at an Open House. Happy now?"
He grinned and stepped away from her car. Graciously, he grabbed the door handle and held it wide open for her. He watched her slide behind the wheel, trying to hide his disappointment as she held her skirt closed over her thighs to avoid a wardrobe malfunction. "Yup. That makes me delirious with joy."
"I'm thrilled to hear it. Now please go home and put some ice on that knee." She looked straight ahead, glad for the camouflage her sunglasses provided. If he could see into her eyes she knew she'd never get away from him. She had just willfully deceived him and he was too astute to miss such an obvious omission. Though she'd promised to avoid Karl's phone calls, that didn't mean that she couldn't call him. And that was exactly what she was planning to do. She'd sell a house this week even if it meant a few creepy moments in Karl's presence. It seemed like a small price to pay to stop feeling like a complete failure to herself and more importantly, to her family.
Chapter Seven
Serena looked at her watch again and frowned. Her ridiculously wealthy client, Larry Gilman, was very late. More than an hour had passed since she'd arrived in a panic at missing their 5 o'clock appointment. She'd nearly doubled the speed limit to be punctual, but her efforts to achieve warp speed had been wasted on Larry. He'd called to inform her that his golf game was running late just as she'd been rushing up the winding driveway to this estate. He'd be there just as soon as he could get away.
Judging from the background noise emitting from Larry's side of the conversation, Serena suspected the investment consultant was actually at the clubhouse celebrating with his portly, old buddies, but she politely agreed to wait another half hour if her client was sure he didn't want to postpone until tomorrow. He'd slurred something about seeing her in 'a while crocodile' and clicked off the phone on a bray of laughter.
Serena sighed and took in her surroundings. Yet another disappointment today, but at least she was waiting in style. The house Larry was interested in looked like it could be featured in an upscale design magazine. It featured an infinity pool with a swim up bar, a gourmet kitchen with a granite kitchen island as big as a California king-sized bed, and five master suites. The shelf-lined library where she was waiting was adjacent to a marble-floored front foyer the size of an airplane hangar.
The Kingston Brothers had created a masterpiece out here in the middle of nowhere. A shame that old Larry was considering this place as a consolation prize for his ex-mistress, rather than the family they'd envisioned living here. Not long ago, Serena wouldn't have considered doing business with someone of Larry's questionable character, but times were tough, and this place needed to be sold.
Part of the problem was that Larry's girlfriend didn't actually know she was an ex quite yet. She'd had the bad taste to turn thirty recently. It hadn't helped their doomed arrangement when she'd started demanding that he leave his wife of 35 years to be with her. Larry, who was quickly approaching sixty, had already replaced her with a twenty-three year-old lingerie model that was significantly less demanding. Classy guy, that Larry.
Serena looked down at her phone and thought about calling her client back and canceling. She desperately wanted to get home to her condo and take a long bath, indulge in a short crying jag, followed by an evening of watching mindless reality television in her flannel jammies while savoring a glass or two of red wine. Hardly glamorous, but she needed the downtime to get her head on straight and create a plan for dealing with Mark without letting her hormones get the best of her.
As much as she wanted to give Larry the brush off, she couldn't do it. He was going back to New York tomorrow morning, and if he was nursing a hangover there was no way he'd make the time to meet her before his plane took off at 10 o'clock. She needed to see him tonight if she wanted to make this sale. Despite her misgivings regarding Larry's method for dumping his mistress, she knew if he saw this place he'd be making an offer. If she could just hold out until he managed to drag his drunk ass out of that bar and into his limousine, she would finally end her professional dry spell.
Getting up from her perch in the window seat, she stood up to stretch her legs. Looking out at the darkening autumn sky she felt a little uneasy for the first time. There wasn't another house for miles, but there were plenty of trees and privacy. A selling point for a buyer, but not exactly reassuring when she was sitting here like a hapless horror movie victim.
She felt completely ridiculous about being nervous, but the feeling wouldn't go away. Mark had obviously transferred some of his crazy paranoia to her. That's it exactly. All his talk of stalkers and predators was making her skittish. It had nothing to do with her being completely isolated out here in the country, waiting for a client that may or may not show up. She'd done this a hundred times. Granted, she didn't usually meet clients at night by herself. If absolutely necessary it was her policy to bring one of her intimidating cousins along for security, but none of them had been willing to give up their Saturday night plans. Larry had been insistent, and the truth was that she wasn't even dimly afraid of him. He was, after all, at least 6 inches shorter than her, and as skinny as a rail. The bear spray she kept in her purse would drop him like a hundred pounds of wet sand if he started feeling frisky.
No, it was something else. Was it Karl? Was she worried that Mark might be right about him? No, that was impossible. The big, blonde geneticist seemed so normal. A little awkward, but totally normal. Boring even. Who ever heard of a scientist being a depraved lunatic anyway? Actually maybe that wasn't all that rare. But crazy people didn't always seem crazy, did they? Look at Ted Bundy or all those other guys who ended up in the news for doing something unspeakable. None of them looked depraved. In fact, they seemed boring. Like Karl.
Needing to distract herself from that disturbing thought she gave her head a shake and set her phone down. Reaching for her briefcase she pulled out her contact lens case and her glasses. If she was going to wait, she was going to wait in comfort and that meant removing her lenses. They were tight and felt gritty after the tears she'd shed earlier and she couldn't wait another second to yank them out.
She hesitated, having second thoughts about donning her glasses in front of a client, but shoved that thought away too. She was a tad self-conscious about her mismatched eyes, so rarely went out in public without her specially designed lenses. Some people were a bit unnerved by the fact that one of her eyes was dark brown, while the other was sky blue. She had been made fun of mercilessly as a child for her 'witchy' eyes and even as an adult she noticed that people had a tendency to stare.
She'd really tried to embrace this unique physical feature. After all, if it was good enough for David Bowie and Kate Bosworth then it should be good enough for her. But as a real estate agent, people expected her to look as professional and conservative as possible. Bottom line was that weird eyes could still be off-putting to some unenlightened individuals and in her competitive business she didn't need to supply a reason for clients to reject her. So, she camouflaged the brown one with a blue lens, and only went mismatched around family and friends who didn't even notice the anomaly anymore.
She was just sliding on her glasses after removing her lenses when she saw headlights coming up the long driveway. She sighed in relief, relieved that Larry had finally made it and she'd be on her way home soon. She peered through the window, watching him approach, but in the dim light the shape of the vehicle didn't look right. It wasn't the low, sleek limousine she was expecting at all. So, it probably wasn't Larry, unless he'd decided to get a ride from one of his cronies. But that seemed unlikely considering he kept his driver on retainer for whenever he was in town. No, it must be someone else.
Jack maybe? Coming to continue their argum
ent? She certainly hoped not. She couldn't handle yet another confrontation tonight. Hopefully, it was one her other cousins, feeling guilty over making her come out here alone tonight? Nope, they all drove trucks, so it definitely wasn't one of them. Her heart gave a treacherous leap in her chest. Mark? Was Mark coming out to check on her? Could he possibly care that much about her safety? No, she'd only seen him drive a truck too, so it wasn't him either.
Dear God. As the vehicle drew closer, she recognized it. The boxy shape gave it away. It was a dark blue Mercedes sedan, and a familiar broad-shouldered blonde was at the wheel. Oh, crap. It was Karl. She backed away from the window and covered her mouth in shock. Scrambling, she reached for the light switch, but turning it off wouldn't do much good considering every light in the house was already on. It was an old real estate trick, but nothing made a house look more unwelcome than dark windows, so she'd foolishly had the electricity turned on and every fixture in the place was ablaze.
Even if she could somehow turn off all the lights, her car was still sitting outside, directly in front of the grand entryway. She couldn't pretend not to be here, could she? Would he recognize her vehicle? Probably. Stalker-Karl probably had memorized the plate number. It was too late. She couldn't cower in the dark, as much as she'd like to, so she turned the library light back on, but backed away from the window and into the hall so her location wouldn't be quite so obvious.
What the hell was he doing here? Had she been dumb enough to tell him where she was going? She thought back. Yes, she'd said Old Carriage Lane when she'd been trying to get rid of him earlier. She'd wanted to express how far she needed to drive that evening, but instead she'd given away her destination. What had she been thinking?
She'd been thinking he was a nice, normal guy. So much for that theory. Normal guys didn't follow women out to isolated locations unless they thought something dirty was going to happen, did they? Was that it? Did he think she'd invited him? Had she sent out that signal? She sincerely hoped not because the last thing she wanted was some kind of romantic tryst with this weirdo.
She snatched up her phone again, and looked at the keypad. Who should she call exactly? Jack would come, but he'd lecture her for sure. Also, he was probably doing something sweaty with Lacey right now and would not be happy to be interrupted. Besides, it would take him at least forty minutes to get out here. Karl could do a lot of unpleasant things to her in forty minutes.
She could call the police but what could she tell them exactly? As a realtor it was her job to meet with clients. Karl could just say they had an appointment and it would be his word against hers. No, the police were out. At least until Karl actually did something really threatening.
Maybe he thought this was romantic, showing up unannounced like this. She supposed it was possible. Perhaps she was just being paranoid. Damn that Mark for planting the seed of doubt in her head regarding Karl and his creepiness factor. It suddenly seemed much more likely that he was finally making his move. Instead of being surprised and delighted, she was getting ready to call the police on him. Talk about overreacting. Karl was harmless, just misguided in his wooing techniques. She really needed to stop watching scary movies.
Feeling a bit better, but still unwilling to take a chance with her personal safety, Serena grabbed her briefcase and sprinted for the front door as quickly as her pumps would allow. She needed to get to her car before Karl arrived. Not even bothering to turn off the lights or lock the front door, she darted out into the night and reached her vehicle just as Karl pulled in right behind her bumper, efficiently blocking her exit.
Shit, she thought to herself as she unlocked her car door with the key fob. Hoping to confuse him, she waved merrily before yanking her door open and sliding behind the wheel. She locked the doors immediately and looked into the rearview mirror, but the lights of Karl's Mercedes were incredibly bright, so she couldn't decipher what he was doing.
Suddenly, there was a tapping on her window, and she gasped as Karl leaned down to press his face close to the glass. He seemed huge as she looked up at him and she cringed away from the door. Her instincts screamed at her to put as much distance between them as possible.
Karl, however, seemed oblivious to her escalating panic. He gave her a friendly smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, and made a cranking gesture with his hand, indicating that she should open her window.
No fucking way, she thought to herself, but she couldn't leave without talking to him, could she? Just slam her car into gear and run over the curb, take a few bushes with her as she made her escape? That seemed just crazy. How would she explain that to Mark? He'd need to come out here and repair the damage to his landscaping, and she'd have to tell him that he was right about creepy Karl. No, too humiliating. She would handle this without acting like a hysterical chick.
She plastered on a fake smile, and called through the glass. "I'm sorry, Karl, but I really need to get going. Can we chat another time?"
The expression in his eyes turned stormy, but that grin never left his thin lips. "But I thought you could show me this place." He gestured towards the grand house beside them. "We're here already, and it looks like your client's a no show. Maybe we can salvage the evening with a sale. What do you think?"
Oh, he was good. So calm and friendly. So normal-sounding. For just a second she actually thought about getting out of the car and giving him a tour. But he'd never indicated in all their discussions that he'd be interested in a place of this scale. In fact, he'd specifically said he wanted something low maintenance, and oddly enough he'd been adamant about buying a place without a cellar or basement. This place sat on 2 acres, and had an extensive subterranean wine cellar. In short, it was incredibly unsuitable for any bachelor. No, he wanted her out of the car, but not to look at the house. He was just using a prospective sale as bait.
She gulped and gave him a speculative look through the window. "Is that why you came out here? To look at this place?"
He stood up, his smile fading; obviously frustrated that she wasn't falling for his ruse. "Partly, but mostly because I was worried. You really shouldn't be meeting people way out here by yourself. I'm surprised your cousin lets you do this. The world is full of low-lives and inferiors. I'd hate it if something happened to you."
Inferiors? What an odd turn of phrase, Serena thought to herself. But she could ponder Karl's diction later. Right now she needed to get the hell out of here.
"Oh, he doesn't have any say in what I do. I'm incredibly stubborn. But there isn't much to worry about. I have this," she called, pulling out her can of bear spray and waggling it against the glass. "I've never had to use it, but I'm pretty sure I could do some damage if one of my clients got the wrong idea in his head." There, she'd got her point across without accusing him of anything. Perfect. He'd back off now.
But he didn't. Instead he leaned in very low. So low that his handsome, expressionless face was practically pressed against the glass. "You know those things expire, right?" He pointed at the canister of bear spay with one long, pale finger. "I mean, what if you were cornered and had to use it and it just fizzled in your hand? Or, God forbid, your assailant turned it on you. Wouldn't that be awful? You really can't be dependent on something so unreliable to protect you. A woman is incredibly vulnerable."
Serena just stared at him. This was the most disturbing conversation she'd ever had in her life. Was she reading too much into his words, letting her fevered imagination run wild, or had Karl just threatened to use the bear spray on her if given the chance? Really, it didn't matter. She no longer had any interest in dating him or selling him a house. In fact, if she managed to get away, she would seriously consider that restraining order Mark had mentioned earlier.
Regaining her composure with some effort, she was about to reply when another set of headlights lit up the long driveway. The long, sleek shape of Larry's shiny, dark charcoal limousine was unmistakable.
Serena nearly cried with relief. Instead she foolishly rolled down her win
dow and gave Karl a triumphant smile. "Oh, I guess my client showed up after all. I hope you don't mind, but I don't think Larry and his massive bodyguard would appreciate it if I had another client waiting in the wings. Maybe another time? Or not." She really had to work not to stick her tongue out at him, but professional decorum prevailed.
Karl backed away a step, but didn't retreat entirely. His calm expression slipped for just a moment and Serena was able to see the rage boiling just under the mask he kept so firmly in place. No, Karl was not used to being thwarted and she had just antagonized him by acting smug. She had misjudged him again. He wasn't just creepy. He was downright dangerous. Mark had been right all along. Damn him.
*****
Karl fought the urge to reach out and slap Serena's upturned, smiling face. That would teach her to know her place. How dare she dismiss him? Who did this little slut thing she was exactly? Didn't she understand the great honor he wanted to bestow on her? He was giving her the opportunity to be part of the New Aryan Movement and she was rejecting him. The very idea enraged him and he fisted his hands together at his sides until his short nails dug into the meaty flesh of his palms.
The limousine skillfully rounded the last turn up the driveway and Serena's lovely face was illuminated in the glare. Karl stared at her and noticed that she was wearing glasses. He'd never noticed that before, but he should have suspected that she would have a flaw like impaired vision. She was obviously inferior, but took pains to hide it. Deceptive little bitch. He stared at her, frowning, and noticed something else. He gasped and took a step back. Her eyes were wrong. Horribly wrong. They didn't even match. Good Lord, he'd nearly bred with a mutant. How close he'd come to wasting his genetic material on this creature. No wonder she associated with half-breeds and cripples. She was something much, much worse.
Hot Property (Kingston Bros.) Page 8
