Read Kane: An Assassin's Love Story Online
Authors: R.E. Saxton,Kit Tunstall
He followed a step behind Danika as she walked over to stand beside her stepdaughter. Stephanie turned away from the hand she tried to place on her arm, her eyes never wavering from the coffin slowly disappearing into the ground. It was only when it had settled into the hole that she turned to Danika, giving her a ferocious glare before turning and stalking away.
With a soft sigh, Danika allowed Stephanie a head start before following behind her, as if sensing her stepdaughter’s need to be alone. Kane followed like Danika’s shadow, glancing down only once when he stepped on something. His eyes widened when he saw the orchid recovered from Edmond’s coffin by his aide. Apparently, the widow Rich wasn’t sentimental, or else she had no desire to remember the events of this day.
He was driving her to distraction. Danika set aside the ledger she had been reviewing, yet another detail of Edmond’s estate that his attorney needed her to look at, finding it impossible to concentrate on the numbers blurring before her eyes with Kane standing so near. Not that he was really that close. She sat at Edmond’s desk, while he stood by the door, a good fifteen feet away. He shouldn’t have seemed to be looming over her, but it felt that way. He exuded an aura that overwhelmed all those around him. It wasn’t unpleasant or domineering. In fact, it was too warm and comforting.
She snorted under her breath. No, that wasn’t it. His presence didn’t soothe her. Instead, it chafed, making her constantly aware of him, of her, and the short distance separating them—of how quickly she could close that distance and be in his arms, pressing her constantly beaded nipples against his chest after divesting him of the staid black jacket, white shirt, and black tie he wore each day.
The thoughts were indecent for a woman widowed only a couple of weeks. Or they would be if she’d had any love left for her husband. Since Edmond had successfully killed any positive emotion she felt for him years ago, she wasn’t afflicted with guilt over her attraction to the mysterious security guard.
Mysterious—that was the perfect word to describe Kane. Even after almost fourteen days of having him constantly shadow her, except during the nights, when he retired to the guesthouse provided as part of his compensation package, she knew nothing about him, other than what had been on his résumé. Her gentle queries had yielded nothing, and she was to the point of giving up. Really, why did it matter if she knew anything about him? Soon enough, she would be able to dismiss him, along with the rest of the security team, and return to her hometown in Virginia, where she would be plain Danika Fallow again, not the wife of Senator Rich. There was no logical reason for her compulsion to know what made Kane tick.
Logic had nothing to do with it, she acknowledged, tapping the pen against the desk, while trying to watch him without him becoming aware of her gaze. It was pure desire that drew her to him, caused her to be curious about what made him so aloof and withdrawn. Had he always been that way, or were there secrets in his past? She suspected the latter, just from her own experiences. Everyone had secrets. Some were hardly worth shielding, while others could ruin a person’s life.
With a disgusted shake of her head, she mentally tossed aside the deep thoughts and pushed away from Edmond’s desk. The huge house with its pristine antiques and art deco style stifled her on a normal day, and today, she seemed to have trouble drawing in a deep breath. Knowing it was her own mind causing the reaction didn’t lessen her physical distress. She had to get out for a while.
Kane took a single step toward her as she walked across the wood floor, her heels tapping rhythmically. His back remained pressed against the wall, and she got the feeling his senses focused on the door behind him, even as his eyes met hers.
“Let’s get out of here.”
He nodded his head. “Where do you want to go, Danika?”
The way he pronounced her first name, now that she had finally convinced him to use it, incited shivers to race up her spine, while lighting a fire in her belly. She had no trouble imagining him whispering her name with passionate intensity while he took possession of her body.
Clearing her throat did little to clear her mind of the erotic thoughts, but the action allowed her to speak. “Shopping.” Christmas was less than two weeks away, and she still had several personal gifts to buy. Her mouth twisted when she contemplated selecting something for Stephanie. Invariably, it would be the wrong thing, just because it came from her hated stepmother. Danika tried to be understanding, but the girl’s hostility had only grown during the past four years of her marriage to Edmond, instead of lessening. She was at a loss on how to connect with the teenager and merely went through the motions now, just as Stephanie had, but only around her father. In private, she never hesitated to voice her true feelings for the stepmother only five years her elder.
If Kane thought it strange that she would go shopping just days after burying her husband, a scant two weeks after his assassination, he refrained from mentioning so. Instead, he followed a step behind her all through the house, as he always did. In many ways, it seemed as though he had always been there, watching over and protecting her. Even without speaking or touching her, he managed to impart warmth and security. Once again, as she slid into the front passenger side of the silver BMW after they reached the garage, she wondered what it was about him that made her feel that way. Perhaps she was simply transferring her newly found sense of peace onto Kane, connecting his arrival with her rejuvenated sense of safety. Danika preferred to think it was because she sensed something special in him, something he kept hidden from the world, but couldn’t hide from her.
The mall was crowded, which should have exacerbated her sense of suffocating, but instead, made her feel welcome and free. She was just one of many pressing their way through the crowds, searching for the perfect gift, with only days left to find it.
With a start that almost elicited a giggle, Danika realized she was looking forward to Christmas for the first time in years. The new baby growing inside her gave her the promise of something wonderful to come, and she knew this would be a magnificent holiday.
The presence of the man walking beside her somehow encouraged her optimism, and she moved through the mall with purpose, looking for bits and pieces that would enhance the holiday.
She detoured into an ornament shop, with Kane right beside her. The teenager behind the register chirped a bright, “Merry Christmas,” as they walked past the counter. With a smile in return, Danika nodded to the girl before turning her attention to the decorations. It was a small specialty shop, open only between November and December, but they had packed the aisles full of Christmas cheer. Glass baubles caught her eye, and she walked over to the display, turning to Kane with a smile of delight. “My mother has ornaments just like these, passed down from her grandmother.” With a reverent hand, she stroked a long dangling bulb, admiring the angel etched into the glass, outlined with glitter. “How I’ve missed these.”
He had a peculiar expression when he touched her shoulder. “Don’t you have them at home?”
Danika sighed. “No. Edmond preferred to have a decorator do our tree. She chooses a different theme each year.” One she usually hated. The designer’s vision of Christmas was always chic and slick, without any of the warmth or charm of a country Christmas.
“What’s this year’s?”
Danika shrugged. “No one consulted me. I suppose I’ll find out when she comes in next week.”
He leaned closer, dipping his head so she could hear him over the loud chatter of a group of shoppers to their left. “Here’s a novel concept. Cancel her design and do your own tree.”
It hovered on the tip of her tongue to issue an automatic denial, remembering the first year that she had tried to convince Edmond to let her decorate the tree. He had laughed at her description of the perfect tree, called it amateurish, and went ahead with the designer he had always used. No, he wouldn’t like it if she decorated the tree herself.
A mischievous grin flashed across her countenance. “Yes, why not? Perhaps Stephanie will help me.” She pulled a face at that thought, bracing herself for the rejection she would receive, should she issue the invitation.
“I haven’t had a tree in years.” He spoke the words matter-of-factly, but a trace of melancholy underscored them.
Turning toward him, Danika arched her brow. “Why not?”
Kane shrugged. “I wasn’t moved by the spirit of the season, I suppose.”
Impulsively, she took his hand. “I hope this year will be different. You’ll have to help with the tree.”
“If you wish.”
She immediately released his hand, sensing his emotional withdrawal. Cursing her spontaneous gesture, she turned her back to him to select several of the clear decorations, busying herself with the task to avoid his eyes. Clearly, Kane didn’t want her touching him or trying to draw him into the holiday celebration. She would do well to remember he was her companion because she paid him to be, not because he wanted to be there.
The teenager at the register admired the bulbs as she wrapped them in tissue paper, chatting about her family’s plans to ski over the Christmas holiday. Danika pretended to listen, while attempting to dismiss the urge to cry. Had it had been so long since she had an affable presence nearby that she couldn’t distinguish the difference between friend and employee any longer? At times, Kane seemed very approachable, until she actually tried to get closer to him. Then a wall appeared, shutting her out.
As she accepted the shopping bag, Danika plastered on a smile, determined to recapture the lightness of mood she had experienced only moments before. It didn’t matter if Kane was with her by choice or for compensation. She enjoyed being near him, relishing the attraction sparking between them, even if his response was only in her mind. It had been a long time since she wanted to be desirable to a man.
They continued through the mall, Danika stopping each time something caught her eye, seldom buying, but enjoying the simple pleasure of window-shopping. Those around her seemed of a similar frame of mind, and smiles were the norm, along with cheerful greetings. Holiday shopping was still at the fun point, not having crossed into the desperation of those leaving it until the last minute.
As they walked past a maternity store where Danika had not yet ventured, a wine-colored silk dress in the display window caught her eye, and she veered through the crowd, aware of Kane sticking close, despite his smothered curse at her sudden detour. He followed her into the store without a peep of protest, and she discovered there was one nice thing about paying a man to accompany her while she shopped—he couldn’t refuse to go with her, or complain about how long she took.
The saleswoman looked elegant, wearing a wool dress in Christmas red, along with black leather boots rising to her knees, allowing only an inch or two of her stocking-clad leg to show under the hem of the dress. She looked like the kind of woman who would never voluntarily spend time around children. “Good afternoon, ma’am. What are you looking for?”
“I’d like to see the dress in the window.”
She nodded, her eyes briefly skimming over Danika’s thickened waist. “You’re about six months, right?”
Her eyes widened. “Twenty-six weeks. How did you know?” She wasn’t showing much yet, so it was a shock to have the sales associate so closely guess how far along she was.
She lifted a delicate shoulder, a hint of warmth shining in her eyes. “After four of my own, and twelve years at this store, it’s second nature.” She nodded to Kane as she passed him, asking over her shoulder, “The wine color, ma’am? Or would you prefer pine?”
“Wine,” Kane said, a tinge of red appearing in his cheeks when Danika looked at him. His eyes skipped away from hers, for which she was grateful. She didn’t want him to see the similar stain of embarrassment on her face. Perhaps the attraction wasn’t all on her side, if he had a preference.
The clerk returned seconds later, the silk dress draped over her arm. The rich purple-red clashed with her wool dress as she escorted Danika to a dressing room, opened the door, and placed the hanger on a hook. Kane had followed them back and made no move to depart with the clerk when she left.
Feeling awkward, Danika entered the dressing room. The door closed behind her with a reassuring click, and she leaned against the thick wood for a long moment, remembering the glint of heat in Kane’s eyes moments before. She placed her palm against the door, conscious of him just inches away.
With a deep breath, she stood up straight to slide off her trench coat. After hanging it on a free hook, her hands when to the buttons of her cashmere sweater, and she turned to face the door, wishing it would open to reveal Kane. Her hands shook as she unfastened each button, while her mind played out the fantasy of inviting him in. His hands would move with confidence over each of the tiny buttons, and he would slide the pink sweater from her shoulders with efficient movements.
As her hands cupped her swollen breasts through the satin cups of her maternity bra, she imagined his tanned fingers moving over the front clasp as she undid it, freeing each swollen globe with leisurely movements. His tongue would pause to taste each of her rosy nipples before his hands slid lower, to deal with the zipper and button on her maternity slacks.
Eyes closed, Danika let her hands become his when she stepped out of the slacks, pausing to stroke her thighs, slowly inching her hands upward, to the bikini pants resting under her swollen belly. Would he find it repulsive? Would her pregnancy bother him, or would he be more concerned with the throbbing bud in her wet pussy?
Danika slipped a finger through the side of her panties, stroking the lips of her pussy. She was slick with arousal and aching for completion. Her clit swelled against her finger when she pressed lightly on it, wishing it were his hand. She tossed back her head, feeling her hair slip free from the clip she had used to restrain it that morning. A second finger ventured into her underwear, joining the first in circling her clit. Her moisture increased, and she slipped her fingers lower, to probe her opening. It yielded easily to her questing fingers, and a moan escaped her.