The Sapphire Pendant (29 page)

Jessie sought to do the same, her fingers slid under his collar, stroking the curling hairs on his chest.

“This is unfair,” she breathed, placing kisses along his jaw.

“What is?” His voice was muffled against her throat.

“You’re still dressed.”

He impatiently removed his clothes and tossed them on the floor. Jessie’s hands greedily reached up to see what the darkness hid from her eyes. His body was impressive: a solid form of muscle and strength that could intimidate as well as overwhelm, but she felt no fear as his body crushed hers; his skin hot as it moved against her own.

Kenneth dared not think. He couldn’t believe this was real. Did the night sky deceive him or was this fiery woman, touched by the glow of the moon, really naked in his arms, trembling from the same passion that kept his body hard? Were the celestial gods forgiving him his secrets; forgiving him his shame and finally offering him this one night of pleasure? He moaned aloud when her hands grasped the inner part of his thigh.

His lips moved to her neck and Jessie shut her eyes. Her body responded to his masculine exploration, but in her mind she saw him with someone else. She saw his lips caressing the neck of a teenage girl who had curly brunette hair, who liked to wear heavy eye shadow. She saw his hand reach for her blouse as they made out on Lover’s Hill...

How could she fool herself to believe she was anything more than just one of his women? Hadn’t he admitted to his weakness? What would happen in the morning? Would she just be another conquest? She could imagine her label listed in his black book: secretary,
check
, waitress, check, lawyer, check, plain little virgin,
double check
.

She had wanted an excuse to hate him and at this moment she did. She hated him for pretending to be her friend then treating her like all the others. How many women had he brought to this cottage and had told the same story? She had been foolish before to think she was “the one”, the special person in his life, and had let her hormones control her mind. She wouldn’t do that again.

Jessie shoved him away, leapt out of the bed, and wrapped his coat around her.
 

“Where the hell are you going?!” Kenneth caught her around the waist before she reached the door.
 

“I’m leaving.”

He tightened his hold as she struggled to free herself. “Why?”

She hated his strength, hated how weak she felt in his arms. “Because I’m not going to be one of them.”

“One of what?”

“Your women.”

Kenneth spun her around. Jessie could see his anger as though it were as visible as the moonlight. “Damn it Jasmine! What’s the game? Give me the rules so that I can play too. Or am I suppose to lose?”

“The only game player is you. I fell for this years ago. I thought you cared about me.”

“I did care about you.”

“Sure we were friends. And we’re still friends, except now it’s different. Now you’re horny and I’m within arms reach. Then once it’s all over, I become the nanny again and you the rich employer. And we’re supposed to still be friends because it’s just sex after all, right? It doesn’t mean anything. So when I see you with another infant at a party, I’m supposed to nod and smile and understand because that’s what women like me do.
 

“We’re supposed to be thankful that a least
someone
would be willing to sleep with us. Well, I am grateful. Men like you make dreams come true. You notice women like me and make me feel special for just one Cinderella moment. Then the clock strikes twelve.”

“Right,” he said, his velvet voice edged with steel. “And women like you are so wounded that you surround yourself in self-pity and use it both as a shield and as a weapon. You’ve been mistreated by life because of your looks and personality or some other flaw that you exaggerate to carry around as the bane of your existence.
 

“You wallflowers stay on the outside pretending to watch and observe, but you judge and label. You don’t see people. You see titles: Beautiful. Talented. Conniving. You look at guys like me and we’re immediately the enemy because we’ve attained everything you haven’t. We are everything you wish to be.

“But people like me are not real to you. We’re trophies. Something to show off. Something to attain. All that time I spent with you. I learnt everything about you. Your favorite color, that wasps scared you, your favorite dessert. What did you learn about me? How long my eyelashes are, how tall I am?”

“I know your favorite color.”

“Yet you forgot what food I ate.”

Jessie turned away.

“Is there anything about me that you could tell me that half the city doesn’t already know?”

She hesitated.

“No, you can’t because you don’t care. I don’t think you ever did.” Kenneth rubbed his forehead. “You know for a while I did believe you lost the pendant because of me. Because you loved me.” He stumbled over the words. “But the truth is I was the perfect scapegoat. You never wanted to go to college and when the Caribbean Council awarded you the money to go to school you panicked. You had no idea what you would do. Sure you would like the sports program, but books and studying for another four years? No way. Then you saw your perfect out. You could give it away and still make yourself look selfless.

“So you did. You gave it to Eddie and with no money you had no way to go to school. But you didn’t count on your parent’s dismay. You thought that since Michelle and Teresa had gone to school you’d be free, but that wasn’t the case. They had been determined that their youngest would go too and they’d do whatever it took. So they sold the pendant. And what has bothered you all these years was that you lost the pendant because you had lied to yourself and to all those you loved. Not because of me.”

Jessie folded her arms. “And what do you know about love? You don’t have to give an ounce of it to anyone. Everyone meets you and loves you. You don’t have to do anything for it, but show up. You write a check here, give a pat on the head there, and that’s as far as your emotional vulnerability will stretch you. Not that I blame you. Why do more than you have to?” She tapped him on the shoulder. “But you are loyal. I will give you that. You know your brother is an alcoholic, but you’ll take care of him and make sure everything looks good. Nothing can stain the Preston name. You’ll do anything for appearances; even sacrifice your niece for it.”

Kenneth tightened his jaw. “Yes, I’m heartless, but I find it interesting with people like you who profess love all the time. What have you ever sacrificed for love, for honor?”

“Plenty.”

He grabbed her shoulders. “You’re a hypocrite and a liar.” His grip tightened as his voice deepened into huskiness. “How can you claim to love someone and then seek revenge in this way? To torture a man by using the power of your body, knowing that he wants you, teasing him and then withdrawing…I don’t have women and you know that. You know I’m not the type of man to go from one bed to another, that I’d never knowingly hurt anyone.” He brushed his lips against her forehead then said softly, “Sometimes I wonder if I should give you a real reason to hate me. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Talk like that is beneath you.”

“What?” He raised his tone in surprise. “First I’m a cheating, heartless dog and now I have standards? Make up your mind, Jasmine.”

“I have. I do want you.” She held out a hand when he pulled her close. “But I don’t trust you.”

He paused. “Why?”

She was glad for the darkness so that he couldn’t see her face. “Because this will mean more to me than it will to you.”

He brought her hand to the front of his trousers. “Can you deny what I feel when you hold it in your hand?”

She held him for a moment then pulled away. “That’s just...”

“Lust? No. Whatever you feel, I feel it too. If you knew the risk I am taking just to be with you, you’d understand.”
 

“Yet you don’t trust me.”

“I do.”

“Then tell me why it couldn’t have been me that night on Lover’s Hill,” she challenged. “Didn’t you know I would have gone anywhere with you? I would have done anything. Why didn’t you come to me that night?”

“Jasmine—” His voice broke. “It’s complicated.”

“I’m listening. I want to understand. Was she prettier, willing to put out more? Just tell me the truth so I can understand why it wasn’t me back then, but why you want it to be me now. What has changed? You can have any woman you want. Why me?”

Kenneth briefly shut his eyes, wishing he could shut out the pain of his past as well. Could he risk telling her the truth? Just for one moment? So that this aching need, which had become a throbbing pain, could find release between her soft thighs? But he had too much to conceal, too many people depended on his secrecy. He couldn’t betray them no matter what.
 

He felt a slow anger beginning to build. It was always like this with Jasmine. She always wanted more than he could give her. “You want the truth? Yes, she was prettier than you and she gave me what I wanted without question. She didn’t need or want anything from me and I liked that. I needed that. I’m not perfect,” he said in a ragged whisper. “You of all people know that. I wasn’t perfect then and I’m not perfect now. I can’t give you the answers you want. If that’s a problem then you should go because I’m not changing. There are plenty of Regines out there. They make a man’s life less complicated.”

“I see.”

Kenneth lowered his voice. “You know I want you. So it’s your choice.”
 

“I know. I wish—” Jessie bit her lip then turned and raced to the door.
 

He listened to her feet pound across the dry leaves as if a deer in flight from a predator. He sighed, glancing up at the stars, wondering if someone up there was laughing at him.

Chapter 20

Jessie woke the next morning, feeling the sun mocking her with its brightness. She sat on the edge of the bed and saw a note under her door. It read:

We’ll talk when I get back. There’s something you should know. Miss me.

Kenneth

PS Kiss this spot. I did
.

She smiled in spite of herself. There was a lot she would remember about last night, but most of all their vulnerability. It had frightened her. Why couldn’t they trust each other? Why did she demand it instead of give it? Kenneth was right; love was not about being selfish.

She looked at the sun as it chased shadows across her room, its brightness no longer seeming to mock her. She lifted the blinds and stared at the trees: tall noble witnesses, whispering, their many secrets, to each other in the morning breeze.
 

“I do know about love,” she said. “I risked winning the pendant for him, didn’t I? That proves it.”
 

The trees stopped whispering; the sun found solace behind a cloud.

“Cowards,” she murmured, turning to the bed.
 

And yet she’d saved face again. By declaring herself the loser she wouldn’t have to try to win and face failure. Then she would work for Deborah, knowing in her heart that she hadn’t really lost because she hadn’t tried. She frowned. Her pride was a tricky monster. Kenneth was right; she did see him as trophy. But she also loved him. If she wanted to prove it, she would have to tell him the truth—risking it all.

* * *

He had failed. Hopelessly. He wished he hadn’t gone. Kenneth hit the steering wheel and swore as he drove back from his brother’s place. It didn’t matter that he had set his brother up in a nice apartment; made sure he always had food in the fridge and checked in every now and then to see he had managed to keep his current employment. The alcohol was winning. Eddie had been sober enough to speak coherently, but needing a drink so badly that his hands shook like a patient with Parkinson’s. Kenneth had congratulated himself for keeping an emotional distance from the situation until he saw a wine bottle in the recycling bin. His calm snapped.

“Why the hell are you doing this?” he demanded, waving the bottle in his brother’s face. “Explain it to me because I don’t understand. You have everything a person could want. What do you need this for?”

Eddie sounded tired. “It helps me to think.”

“What do you need to think about? You’ve got a daughter, a job, and a nice place.”
 

“So what?”

“You have responsibilities you have to take care of.”

“Is that an order?”

Kenneth turned away. Jasmine was right, he couldn’t bring Syrah back here until Eddie sobered up. He had spent so much of his life doing everything he was supposed to do or what people expected him to do, he had forgotten what he needed to do. Right now he had to protect Syrah. His gut clenched. He didn’t like how the words sounded. Eddie wasn’t a bad guy. He wasn’t a monster. He drank, he was lazy, but he loved his daughter. He was her
father
that was the role God had given him. What right did he have to break up that bond? Especially, because he knew he had a selfish desire to claim Syrah as his own. “You need to take care of her.”