by Kat Martin
“I’m thinking Deepwater Horizon and the BP oil spill, right?”
“That’s the argument and there are problems, for sure, but not as many as people believe. Unfortunately, until we find a reliable energy alternative, fossil fuels are necessary to our survival.”
“I get it. So what do you need me to do?”
“I need to find out who sabotaged the helicopter I was riding in four weeks ago.”
“Wow, your accident wasn’t an accident? That’s not good news.”
“No, it isn’t. It’s not public info, but there’s no way they can keep it quiet for long. I’m planning to do some legwork. I’ll come up with a list of names—passengers and crew, anyone with access to the chopper. I’ll need background info and I’ll need you to go deep. I want to know if I was the target.”
Tabby’s voice tightened. “Get me the names. I’ll get everything you need.”
“Thanks, Tab, I’ll be in touch.” The line went dead and Reese leaned back in his chair. He’d have to find time to go to Houston to start his search. His schedule was packed, so it wouldn’t be easy.
A light knock sounded, then Kenzie opened the door. Her pale scoop-necked sweater hinted at the fullness of her breasts, something he shouldn’t have noticed, but did.
“What did Milburn have to say? Have they found the cause of the crash?”
He didn’t want to worry her, but sooner or later the information was bound to hit the news. He was going to need help with this. He needed Kenzie in the loop.
“Someone tampered with the chopper. The crash was intentional.”
“Oh, my God. Reese, you could have been killed.”
He forced the tight muscles across his shoulders to relax. “The investigation’s ongoing. The FBI is taking over. Eventually, they’ll find whoever’s responsible and arrest them.”
“Eventually? What about in the meantime? What if whoever did it does something like that again?” She began to realize the implications, as he had known she would. “You don’t...you don’t think you were the target?”
“A lot’s been happening. According to Derek Stiles, there have been an inordinate amount of accidents that involve the rig.”
She stiffened. “You need someone to protect you. You have to call your brother.”
“Which one?” he joked. “And the answer is no. I’m not calling either of my brothers. I won’t be cosseted twenty-four hours a day. I am, however, going to find the bastard who crashed the chopper and killed two good men. I’m going to make sure he doesn’t hurt anyone else.”
Kenzie just stood there. She handled his schedule, knew about the hours each week he set aside for his martial arts instructor. She had to know he was proficient—more than proficient—in self-defense. She didn’t know about his dark past or his skill with a weapon.
But she should know him well enough to realize he wasn’t going to change his mind.
“All right, then,” she said resignedly. “What can I do to help?”
A faint smile touched his lips. “I’ll fill you in as soon as I figure it out.”
“Fair enough.” She took a deep breath, focused back on work. “I assume that means you’ll be carrying on with your schedule for today and this evening.”
“Unless something changes, yes. Remind me...what’s on my calendar for tonight?”
“You have a charity event, the annual Dallas Youth Homes fundraiser. You bought a table for eight that includes your brothers and their wives, Kade Logan, Chase’s friend from Denver, and his date, Marla Steiner.”
“Who am I taking?”
“Andrea Wellington. You mentioned something about meeting her at an event at the governor’s mansion when you asked me to arrange for a limo.”
He remembered now. When he’d called her, he’d already been trying to distance himself from Fiona.
“Follow up. Give her the time the limo will arrive and tell her I look forward to seeing her again.” And he hoped like hell it was true. Hoped an evening with Andrea Wellington would be more appealing than the ones he’d spent with the last few women he’d dated.
“I’ll take care of it.” Kenzie turned and walked out the door and Reese’s gaze followed. Her spine-erect posture should have kept his mind on business, but the sexy sway of her hips sent a rush of heat straight to his groin.
Cursing softly, Reese jerked his thoughts back from where they’d gone and began to formulate a plan that would help him find a killer.
SIX
Kenzie made the phone call, dreading the sound of the woman’s voice. Reese dated the most beautiful women in the world: movie stars, TV personalities, and fashion models, though he seemed to prefer women less interested in the spotlight. Businesswomen, a high school principal, and attorneys like Fiona Cantor had all spent time in his company.
And undoubtedly in his bed.
Though he never dated a woman very long, they usually remained friends and rarely refused to see him again. Perhaps he kept things superficial as a result of his divorce, a bitter, expensive dissolution from what Kenzie had read in the gossip columns. She figured Reese wasn’t ready to go down that particular road again—if ever.
In a way it made her sad. Reese was a great guy. She knew he had coached Little League baseball and was a Big Brother to kids from broken homes. He also donated heavily to underprivileged teen charities, including Dallas Youth Homes, the benefit he was attending tonight.
The woman answered and Kenzie took a deep breath. “Hello, Andrea, this is Reese Garrett’s personal assistant, McKenzie Haines. I’m calling to let you know the limo will be arriving at seven o’clock to pick you up for tonight’s event. Reese said to tell you he’s looking forward to seeing you again.”
“Oh, dear. I was just getting ready to call him. A family emergency came up and I have to cancel. My mom’s in the hospital. Shall I call Reese or can you give him the message?”
“I can let him know. Don’t worry, I’m sure Reese would want you to be with your mother.”
“Thank you.”
The call ended and Kenzie felt a shocking sense of relief. It was ridiculous. Reese would just call someone else to take Andrea’s place. She glanced at the clock. It was Friday night, the office closed. Except for the few people on the executive floor who were still working, everyone had gone home. Reese was going to be late if he didn’t leave soon, and he still needed to find a date.
She knocked lightly on his door and pulled it open. Reese stood in the middle of the room talking on the phone as he unfastened the row of buttons down the front of his white dress shirt.
She knew he kept several suits and miscellaneous extra garments in his office. There was a private bath with a shower so he could change if he was running late.
But tonight was a black-tie affair. He motioned toward the closet, shrugged out of the shirt and tossed it onto the sofa. She tried not to stare. She had imagined his lean, tanned, broad-shouldered torso more times than she cared to admit, but not the powerful chest with the crisp black hair arrowing down over six-pack abs, across a flat stomach, disappearing into the waistband of his slacks.
Her heart drummed. Her palms felt damp. Trying to block the image, she walked briskly to the closet to retrieve the tuxedo she found inside, but the sight of his naked torso was burned into her brain.
She took down a black designer tux and the pleated white shirt next to it. Still on the phone, Reese had turned and was looking out the window, giving her a view of his broad shoulders and muscular back.
She told herself to move, but her legs felt frozen and she couldn’t seem to take the first step. The tux and shirt hit the floor and her mouth dried up. Stretched across all that smooth, tanned skin was the most amazing tattoo she had ever seen.
The wings of a beautifully drawn bird, its head in profile, spread from one feathered tip to another across that broad back. Not an e
agle, she realized. Something darker, more compelling, something she couldn’t have imagined in her most erotic dreams.
Reese turned away from the window and the beautiful bird disappeared. Face flushed with embarrassment, she reached down and picked up the hangers, carefully draped the tux over the arm of the sofa.
Reese ended the call and tossed his cell on the matching chair. “I’m running late,” he explained. “I had my housekeeper go by my apartment and pick up my tux. I figured I could save time if I dressed right here.”
She managed to nod. Clearly, she must not have looked as astonished as she felt.
Reese crossed to the sofa, took the dress shirt off the hanger, and slipped it on, covering those wide shoulders and most of his powerful chest.
“So I guess this is the first time you’ve seen my tattoo,” he said mildly. “I suppose I should have prepared you.”
But he had been clear from the beginning. If she wanted to be his personal assistant, it was her job to do whatever he needed done. Not including sexual favors, of course.
If she was offended by bringing him a cup of coffee or helping him arrange a date, he would hire a man for the position. Because of the social climate where male-female business relations had become so strained, he had preferred to do just that. Kenzie had convinced him she could handle the job.
“It’s not a problem,” she said. “It’s not like I’m in danger of being assaulted. You’re standing ten feet away.”
His mouth edged up in that sexy way of his.
“Your tattoo,” she couldn’t resist adding. “It’s incredible. What kind of bird is it?”
He buttoned the shirt, but made no move to take off any more of his clothes. Reese never pushed the boundaries between employer and employee. She didn’t believe he ever would.
“It’s a falcon,” he said. “I had it done when I was in high school. Kind of a fuck you to my family, I guess. I should probably have it removed, but I see it as a reminder of the rotten kid I was back then. In some odd way, it keeps me centered.”
Surprise filtered through her. Though she’d read some of his background in the papers, she couldn’t imagine Reese Garrett ever really stepping out of line. “The tattoo is beautiful. It’s part of you now. I don’t think it’s something you should destroy.”
His features softened. She could feel his intense blue eyes on her. “Maybe not. I like it, if you want the truth.” He flicked a glance at the tux, Armani or something equally expensive. “You came in here for a reason. What is it?”
She felt like a fool. At the sight of his amazing body, she had completely forgotten the reason she was there. “Your date for the evening, Andrea Wellington? She had a family emergency and had to cancel.”
He frowned. “I can’t go to this thing alone.” He checked his gold Bulgari wristwatch, adjusted the black alligator band, and looked back at her. “I don’t have time to find someone else. How long would it take you to get ready?”
“What?”
“I need a dinner date. If you have something formal to wear, I’d appreciate it if you’d fill in.”
She had traveled with him. Joined him for business lunches and dinners with associates whenever he needed her. This was no different.
“I attended all sorts of formal functions when I was married to Lee. I have the right clothes. Once I get home, I can be ready in twenty minutes.”
He looked back down at his watch. “We’ll save time if I just go with you. Reggie has the limo waiting downstairs. As soon as I’m dressed, we can go.”
* * *
Kenzie rode in silence all the way to her town house. She was going to be Reese’s date for the evening. She’d had a dream like that one night, a dream that had ended with Reese kissing her, doing a lot more than that. She’d awakened with a start, her skin hot and her body damp. Fortunately, the erotic part of the dream had slipped away, for which she was especially grateful now.
She thought of the beautiful tattoo on his back, a falcon, wings spread the width of his shoulders. The sight had hit her with a shot of lust unlike anything she had ever felt before.
She and Lee had had an adequate sex life. At least in the beginning. Until he’d started cheating and she had found out. She had threatened to leave him. For Griffin’s sake had stayed, but her desire for him had faded along with her trust.
Their limo pulled up in front of the town house, a two-story redbrick building on Colby Street in Uptown.
“I can wait out here,” Reese offered.
Kenzie shook her head. “Absolutely not. Besides, it’s time you met my grandmother and my son, Griff.”
He nodded, a little surprised, she thought, and maybe pleased. “All right.” The front door wasn’t bolted. She opened it and both of them walked into the foyer. She noticed Reese frowning.
“Be smarter to keep your door locked. Criminals are always looking for an easy mark.”
He was right. She tried to keep the house secure but it was difficult with three people going in and out.
“I’ll try harder.”
Reese just nodded.
As they walked into the living room, Gran rose from the overstuffed chair next to the beige tweed sofa. Except for Griff’s skateboard propped against one wall and a stack of paperback romances on the end table next to a brass lamp, Gran always kept the place neat and clean.
“Gran, this is my boss, Reese Garrett. Reese, this is Florence Spencer, my grandmother.”
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Spencer,” Reese said.
Gran smiled. “I’d rather you just call me Flo.” Her pale blue eyes ran over him boldly, from the top of his gleaming black hair, along the shiny lapels of his tuxedo, down his long legs, to the glossy black shoes on his feet. “Pleasure to meet you.” She turned to Kenzie. “Griff’s over at the neighbor’s. He should be home any minute.”
“Reese’s date canceled at the last minute. I’m filling in for her, so I need to get upstairs and change.” Kenzie turned back to Reese. “I won’t be long.”
He just nodded. She wondered what he thought of the town house. With its inexpensive, durable furniture, knickknacks on the shelves, and framed family photos on the walls, the place was at best comfortable and homey. She wasn’t much of a decorator. Or rather, she was too busy earning a living to worry much about it.
In time, she planned to make improvements, but for now it was enough.
She headed upstairs, quickly went to her closet, and started searching through the clothes left over from her former life. She’d been the wife of Lee Haines, a wealthy businessman, daughter-in-law of Arthur Haines, both members of the Dallas elite. The clothes weren’t new, but the designer labels were exclusive and the garments beautifully made in timeless styles that rarely changed.
Quickly sorting through her options, she chose a modest dark blue crepe gown with a beaded bodice and narrow spaghetti straps. It fit snugly at the waist and hips, then flared gently to the floor.
She tossed the dress on the bed and hurried into the bathroom to freshen her makeup, adding a little extra for the occasion. Brushing her heavy dark hair, she plaited it into a loose braid and pinned it in a knot at the nape of her neck, careful to leave a few loose strands beside each ear.
Satisfied with her appearance, she added a pair of rhinestone earrings and slipped into matching dark blue satin heels. Blue beaded clutch in hand, she headed out of the bedroom and started down the stairs, pausing halfway when she heard her son’s laughter mingled with Reese’s deep chuckle.
Her stomach fluttered and it wasn’t from nerves. Pressing her hand there, she took a deep breath and continued down to the living room.
SEVEN
Whatever Reese was about to say froze in the back of his throat. The blue beaded gown worked perfectly with Kenzie’s coloring, her mahogany hair, golden brown eyes, and fair complexion. It was modest for the most part, di
splaying her curves but only a hint of cleavage. The fabric rustled when she moved, an erotic sound that stirred the blood already pounding through his veins.
The dress was simple and in perfect taste. On Kenzie, it was the sexiest gown Reese had ever seen. He wanted to tell her how beautiful she looked, but it was exactly the wrong thing to do.
“So what do you think about the coaching job, Mr. Garrett?” Griff asked, giving Reese the moment he needed to compose himself. Griffin Haines was a handsome kid with his mother’s good looks and similar coloring, the golden brown eyes and thick, dark, reddish-brown hair.
He was smart, too, same as Kenzie. Fortunately, Lee Haines’s weak chin and pale eyes had been overpowered by Kenzie’s stronger genes.
Reese’s gaze went back to her and he restarted the conversation. “Griff mentioned he played Little League baseball and I told him I’d coached a team a couple of summers ago. Griff says his coach recently quit and asked if I’d be interested.” He looked back at Griff. “Tell you what, let me give it some thought.”
Kenzie just nodded, clearly not excited at the prospect. He wondered if she could be thinking along the same lines he was. The last thing they needed was more time together.
“If you don’t want to be late, we’d better get going,” she said with a glance at the door.
Gran walked them to the entry. “You both look gorgeous. You make a beautiful couple.”
Reese managed to smile. “Thank you, Mrs. Spencer.”
“It’s just Flo, like I said.”
He nodded. “We won’t be late, Flo.” He turned to Griff. “I’ll have your mom home as early as possible.”
“That’s okay, Mom doesn’t have a curfew like I do.”
Reese managed to hold back a smile and just nodded.
They left the town house, Kenzie walking beside him. She missed a step in her sky-high heels but quickly righted herself without his help. Reese felt a trickle of irritation at the forced propriety. It felt strange to be escorting a woman he wasn’t allowed to touch.
