Hotbed Honey (8 page)

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Authors: Toni Blake

BOOK: Hotbed Honey
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Next to him, Carlo leered at Kimberly, which was, of course, just what he was supposed to do. But already, Max felt the need to interrupt. "So, Carlo, what do you think of the place?" He motioned to their surroundings like a man who was the king of his castle.
"Fabulous, Max. Incredible." He quickly turned his gaze back to Kimberly. "And a wife like this to share it all with? You've got the life, pal. What I wouldn't give to be in your shoes."
Subtle, the guy wasn't.
"Oh, now, Carlo," Kimberly answered in a half-bashful, half-flattered tone, "you're too kind." She even fluttered her eyelashes at him like a teenager in heat. Subtlety wasn't her strong suit, either, but, Max remembered, her job right now was not to be subtle—it was to be
available
. Another rankling idea.
"Where'd you find this beauty, Max, old buddy?"
Old buddy?
I'll old buddy you,
he thought, but he reined in his irritation. "We met in college."
Carlo's leer managed to increase and Max imagined thoughts of naughty coeds dancing through Carlo's head. Kimberly was leering right back at him, her eyes wide, her lips pretty and pouty with lipstick the color of red wine.
"I knew the moment I saw her," Max said without planning it, "that she was the woman for me." He saw Kimberly turn her hazel eyes on him, which had been his hope, although he didn't know why. He remembered how some days her eyes seemed more brown, other days gold as amber, and how, at still other times, they would glitter green. Tonight they took on a warm honey-colored shade. He didn't hesitate to hold the gaze. "She was wearing a short red skirt and a white blouse and she had a great tan. It was October."
He watched her go still, then swallow hard, and he liked the effect the words had had on her. Because that really was what she'd been wearing on the day they'd met, although it hadn't been at college. It had been on an elevator at the Kessler Agency's building. She'd heard him tell someone he was a P.I. and she'd started asking him questions about it.
"We had lunch," she reminded him, her voice silky.
Yes, he recalled, her questions had turned into an invitation for lunch, and lunch had turned into a job for her.
"You ordered quiche," he said, their eyes still locked.
He could tell this one surprised her—she'd always accused him of having a bad memory for details. "That's right."
"What did
I
have?" he quizzed her.
Her expression turned slightly saucy with the game they were playing. "You think I don't remember?"
"Prove me wrong."
"An Italian sub," she replied smoothly. "With extra pepperoni."
He grinned slightly at the correct answer.
"So…" Carlo interrupted uncertainly, drawing Max back to the present. He knew the schmuck was desperate to be the center of attention again, which Max apparently needed reminding. What had he been doing strolling down memory lane like that, anyway? He couldn't explain it, except to again chalk it up to his ego, something he certainly hadn't expected to come into play here. He'd have to squelch it in the future.
"Sorry about that, Carlo." Ready to change the mood, Max said, "Excuse me for a moment," then rose from his chair and went to the doorway that connected with the kitchen. There he found Mrs. Leland, the woman he'd hired to cook for them this evening. "Could you bring the wine I have chilling, please?"
Returning to the table, he found his guest already ogling his "wife" again, something he'd have to start pretending he didn't see. But maybe, he told himself, his departure from "oblivious husband" had been good. If the jerk truly got a charge out of stealing the wife away from the adoring spouse, Max had set it up perfectly; it sure hadn't scared Carlo away.
Kimberly looked back and forth between the two men. She couldn't have been more weirded out. She had two guys vying for her attention—every woman's fantasy. Except that one of them was a sleazy toad and the other one was pretending. Swell. Okay, so it wasn't a
perfect
fantasy.
"Those are exquisite earrings," Carlo said. Then he actually reached out and diddled her earlobe with his fingertip. She wanted to convulse with disgust. "Lovely necklace, too," he purred. Soon his fingers were there, touching it, playing with it, and her entire body went tense, even as she told herself,
Smile, damn it. Smile at the jerk
.
"That's just a bauble," Max said across from her as Carlo continued to examine the necklace.
She turned her gaze on Max. Did he look as tense as she felt? Or was she just imagining that?
"She picked it up on our last trip to
New York
," Max continued with a grin. "If you want to see Kimberly's
real
jewelry, you'll have to sweet-talk her into showing it to you."
Carlo practically glowed with lust at Max's suggestion, but he finally pulled his fingers away from her neck, thank goodness. "I'd love to take a look at it sometime."
"Max has been
very
generous," Kimberly said, and she smiled across the table at him. She glanced up then to see Mrs. Leland enter with the wine and start pouring it into the fluted crystal glasses before them.
"Kimberly has a weakness for diamonds, don't you, babe?" Max asked.
Babe
. He used to call her that. Not in the too-forward, insulting way, but in the casual, endearing, that's-how-close-we-are way.
She swallowed. "Yes," she managed to say. "I have a horrible weakness for diamonds."
"She wears them constantly," Max went on. Kimberly thought at this point he might be pouring it on a bit thick, but he seemed to know what he was doing where Carlo was concerned, so she just let him ramble, waiting to see where it would lead. "Tonight, for instance, a casual dinner with a new friend and out come the diamonds."
She saw an opportunity and flashed another of her come-hither smiles. "Well, I wanted to look nice for Carlo and make a good impression on him."
"Oh, you do, and you have," Carlo gushed.
But Max kept right on going. "She actually wears them out shopping sometimes."
"Only to the better stores, honey," she insisted.
"And once,
once
—" Max paused to give another of those masculine just-between-us-guys laughs "—I actually found her wearing them as she sat by the pool."
"The pool?"
Kimberly gave a ridiculous giggle, warming to her part now. "It wreaked havoc on my tan lines, but I do enjoy the feel of them next to my skin."
Carlo closed his eyes a moment and murmured something too low for her to understand—probably some observation about tan lines or skin. So she blinked and continued looking lively and vibrant. "I'm sorry, I missed that. What did you say, Carlo?"
Unfortunately, he got hold of himself. "Oh, nothing. Just saying that I didn't realize you guys had a pool."
She flashed him an incredulous look and even lifted splayed fingers to her chest. "I wouldn't own a house without one. In fact, I find it rather small and keep bugging Max to build me a bigger one." The pool, in fact, was enormous, but she made a pouty face at Max anyway.
"Nothing I love more than a swimming pool," Carlo said.
"Really?" Max replied matter-of-factly. "Well, you'll have to come over for a swim sometime."
"Soon, perhaps," Kimberly added in a lilting voice.
Carlo tilted his head and glanced coyly back and forth between them. "You know…" he began, but then he stopped and shook his head. "Never mind."
"What is it?" Kimberly asked.
Carlo lowered his chin sheepishly. "Oh, it's nothing."
"No, really, what were you going to say?"
"Well." He stopped and shook his head almost helplessly. "I was just thinking that my place is being painted this weekend…"
"Actually, I've never heard you say where you live, Carlo," Max said, more from curiosity about Carlo's reply, Kimberly suspected, than anything else.
"Oh, I've got a huge condo near the beach. It's … being remodeled. That's why it's being painted. I just picked out my colors."
"Sounds lovely," Kimberly said, "but what does that have to do with … whatever we were talking about?" She giggled at her own forgetfulness, figuring that playing dumb might add to her assets in his eyes.
Again, Carlo looked hesitant. "Well, I was just thinking, if you guys weren't busy, that it might be a great time for me to catch some rays by the pool, but … I wouldn't want to impose, so just forget I said anything."
"Why should we forget it?" Kimberly replied. "I think it's a wonderful idea. Max and I have no plans at all this weekend, do we, honey?"
"None at all." Max gave his head a short shake.
"In fact, there's no need for you to go home and sleep in those nasty fumes," Kimberly went on. "Why don't you just stay here tonight, and tomorrow we can all enjoy the pool together."
Carlo feigned shock at such a generous offer. "Are you sure? It wouldn't be an imposition?"
His question struck her as quite silly, since he'd practically invited himself, but Kimberly found it easier just to play along. "Tomorrow's Saturday," she replied. "And we have plenty of guest rooms. So, why not? You don't mind, do you, Max?"
She shifted her gaze back to him and he smiled. "Of course not. We'd love to have you."
And
I'd
love to have
you
, Kimberly thought, her mind yanked mercilessly from her work just by looking into Max's eyes.
"Well, thanks. That's great," Carlo was saying, but Kimberly barely even heard him. Instead, she found herself turning her come-hither smile on Max then, glad she could do it under the guise of her role, but inside still wishing that it wasn't all just pretend.
* * *
After the salad, Mrs. Leland served salmon, rice and fresh bread. Kimberly listened as Max took the opportunity to talk stocks and bonds with Carlo—another impressive skill he'd apparently picked up somewhere along the way. She bowed out of the conversation other than to add an occasional comment to help keep Carlo focused on her.
As the charade went on, Kimberly found herself wading through the mire of wanting Max more and more with each passing minute. Even when she worked to bait Carlo with her flirtations, she stayed painfully aware of Max's presence, and couldn't keep her thoughts from straying to past times—better times—shared with him.
"Kimberly?"
She jolted to attention. "Huh?" She looked up to see Max and Carlo both rising from their chairs.
"I said," Max told her very calmly, "let's retire to the living room for a while." He raised his eyebrows at her as if to say,
Pay attention!
and she thought,
Swell, great way to show him what a good P.I. I am.
But all Kimberly's bad feelings were quelled when she took a seat on the big white sofa in front of the fireplace and Max sat down next to her, sliding his arm around her shoulder. Her heart fluttered and a few other choice body parts did, as well. This husband-and-wife thing definitely had its benefits, even if it was only make-believe.
Carlo settled in a roomy chair near them and started looking a little antsy, but Max acted as if he didn't notice and proceeded to talk some more about his imaginary career in investments.
"Which reminds me," Max finally said, "I've got a business call to make—need to touch base with a colleague in Japan. Will you excuse me for a few minutes?"
As quick as that, he was gone, up off the couch and out of the room. Disappointment ran rampant through Kimberly's limbs. A business call? Now? She knew this meant it was time to get down to some more of
her
business by flirting with Carlo
in private
and letting him think she might be interested in him in
that
way.
It took Carlo about half a second to make the first move. He rose from his chair and joined her on the couch. Too close for her liking, but part of the job, she reminded herself. She'd done this kind of work on occasion before, so it wasn't something she didn't know how to handle. But most of the suspects weren't as outright lecherous as this guy. And she'd never before done this kind of work when her mind and body were so desperately tied up with wanting another man.

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