Hot Property (Kingston Bros.) (9 page)

He was pretty sure Mark was over-reacting with this whole stalker thing, but he would follow up with his friend later. Right now, he needed to make his future wife scream with pleasure.

*****

"Serena! God damn it. Slow the hell down." Mark called as he struggled down the stairs after her. His knee was in fiery agony. He struggled to keep from whimpering like a little girl as he jarred it again and again with each descending step. How he hated appearing so weak. Especially to her. Just over a year ago he'd been a professional athlete, impressive by most people's standards, now he was hobbling around like a little old man. He felt like he was a hundred years old. What next? Depends undergarments? Prostate problems?
Viagra
? Jesus. Anything but that. If his dick went soft, he hoped his head
wouldn't be too far behind.

"What do you want, Mark? I've got to go. I'm late already and my client is only in town for one night." Serena said impatiently as she threw her briefcase into the trunk of her sporty little white convertible. Of course, the clasp on the case was loose and cards, brochures and one-sheets flew everywhere. She swore under breath and then found herself fighting back tears yet again as she leaned forward to gather her things. She could have left the mess as it was, but burying her head in the trunk gave her a moment to recover her composure.

If Mark knew how close she was to a complete emotional breakdown he would feel pity for her, and she couldn't stand that. She wasn't some pathetic damsel in distress, no matter how much he wanted to turn her into one. She would save herself, thank you very much. If she could just stop bursting into tears every few minutes, she would get her house-selling mojo back, find the perfect non-creepy, non-annoying guy, and liv
e happily, ever-fucking-after.

Mark finally reached the car and gratefully leaned against the large oak tree shading the sidewalk beside Serena's trunk. Pain momentarily forgotten he watched, amused and riveted, as her bottom bounced and gyrated with her movements as she rustled around in the rear compartment of her vehicle. No, Viagra wouldn't be necessary for him as long as Serena's ass was available for ogling. Good Lord, for a slim girl she really did have some mouth-watering curves. He knew he should be admonishing her about the very real threat that blonde bastard presented, but he was too busy staring in wonder as her skirt crept up to reveal a few more inch
es of her long, smooth calves.

Serena stood up suddenly, and glared suspiciously at Mark. He was staring at the ground as if it was the most fascinating thing in the world. It wasn't like him not to offer some assistance. She wondered if he was too pissed off at her to risk being in such close proximity. Fine with her. The more distance he kept between them the less likely she'd be to act on her bone-melting attraction to him. If anger kept him away from her then she would keep trying to provoke him. Eventually he would give up and leave her the hell alone. And that's exactly what she wan
ted. Wasn’t it?

"Jeez. Mark. Why are you standing around gawking at a crack in the sidewalk. It wouldn't kill you to act like a gentleman and offer to give me a hand pi
cking this stuff up, would it?"

He narrowed his eyes and scowled back at her. "I would, but I'm a little incapacitated here," he sa
id, gesturing down at his knee.

Serena's eyes travelled down his muscular thighs and she felt a wave of compassion roll over her when she finally noticed the way he was favoring his bad leg. He rarely complained, so the pain must be excruciating if he was willing to mention it. For a moment, she thought about offering him a ride home or perhaps some help getting to his truck, but that would be a mistake. She needed to stay tough or he would get under her skin again. Besides, she knew Mark wouldn't appreciate being pitied anymore than she would. So she snorted instead. "And
whose
fault is that? If you hadn't catapulted me against that wall earlier, you wouldn't be suffering now, would you?
" She asked with a snide smirk.

"What can I say? I underestimated your weight." Mark said cruelly, stinging from her lack of sympathy. He regretted the words the second they left his mouth. He hadn't meant to insinuate she was heavy at all. It wasn't even true. If anything, Serena was too thin. Now he'd said the one thing guaranteed to ensure a man never saw a woman naked. Ever. Weight comments were unforgivable and yet he'd just laid a whopper on
her. Man, he was screwed now.

Serena's shoulders stiffened noticeably and her lips drew into a thin line. "Nice, Mark. So sorry if I'm heavier than the w
omen you usually throw around."

Mark groaned in frustration. "Oh, for fuck's sake, Serena. You're being ridiculous. I don't 'throw' women around. You know me better than that. And I certainly didn't catapult you. I gently lifted you." She couldn't seriously believe he would harm a woman, especially her. Could she? No one would mistake him for the sensitive type, but he wasn't a total brute either. He'd rather break his other knee than hurt someone weaker than himself. It drove him crazy that she might think otherwise. To convince her he wasn't actually some kind of knuckle-dragging Neanderthal he was going to have to keep his hands off her completely. Unless she initiated something. And it wasn't looking like that was going to happen anytime soon. No
matter how much he wanted her.

"Ha!" Serena barked out a single unpleasant note of mirthless laughter. "How would I know anything about you, Mark? Not that I'd want to. You've been gone for years. And let me tell you this. Nothing you've said or done since you came back has convinced me of your sterling character. In fact, all I know for sure is that beer is a big part of your diet, and you seem pretty damned determined to sabotage Jack's business. Sounds familiar, doesn't it?" She'd almost said, 'like father, like son,
' but even she had her limits.

Confident that she'd hit him where it would hurt second most, she snapped the trunk lid closed and began walking around the car towards the driver's side door. She gave him one last dismissive glance and then slid on her sunglasses to cover her eyes. "Good night, Mark. Feel free to stay home for the next week or so and nurse that knee, okay? I'm su
re we'll manage without you." 

Mark pushed away from the tree trunk with a grunt of effort and followed her around the vehicle as quickly as his stupid, messed-up leg would allow. He knew her remarks were meant to be hurtful, but he was numb to any comparisons to his father at this point. He had come to terms with his father's faults after the old man's funeral. Standing by the grave site on a cold rainy afternoon, he'd vowed to learn from his father's mistakes and avoid the pitfalls that had plagued him. Witnessing a squandered life has a tendency to give people some perspective, and Mark was no exception. Getting angry over Serena's comments wouldn't change the past or make his
dad any less of an asshole.  

Besides, getting into a shouting match with her on the street wasn't going to keep her safe. He needed some kind of assurance from her that she would be careful before he allowed her out of his sight. Otherwise he'd have to spend the rest of the night following her around. He'd have to stalk her himself to protect her from her actual stalker. The irony was not lost on him. He would gladly play bodyguard if it kept Serena safe but he didn't think his knee would last much longer if he didn't get some ice on it
as quickly as humanly possible.

"Serena." Careful to avoid touching her, he grabbed the car door and pushed it firmly closed before she could get it open more than an inch. "I know you've got to get out of here, but what about that Karl guy? You're going
to stay away from him, right?"

"Mark. Honest to god, yo
u are fixated on this subject."

"Just promise me that you'll screen your calls. And you'll call me if he shows up at anym
ore of your Open Houses, okay?"

At this point Serena would promise just about anything to get away from Mark. He was standing much too close, and if she inhaled through her nostrils she could just barely detect the woodsy scent of his soap. She wanted to lean forward and bury her nose in his neck. Then she'd nibble on his full bottom lip for an hour or two before getting to the really good parts. But his good parts were not good for her. She lost her mind and her heart when she got close to him. No matter how difficult it was to resist him, she needed to keep reminding herself that he was t
oxic. Mark = Emotional Anthrax.

She sigh
ed 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 u
p 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 deli
rious 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 t
he 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, an
d 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 dem
anding. 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 he
r 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 san
d 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 ev
en 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 argument? 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 fi
xture 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 locatio
n 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 destinati
on. 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 romant
ic 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 scream
ed
at her to put as much dist
ance 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 th
at 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 goin
g. 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 w
ith a sale. What do you think?"