The Sapphire Pendant (32 page)

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Authors: Dara Girard

BOOK: The Sapphire Pendant
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“No, when I saw him I thought of you.”

His brows shot up. “You see me as a partially blind puppy with a limp?”

“No, someone who needs a friend.”

“And you’re one of my friends?” he asked sarcastically.

“Yes.”

Shit. The problem was he wanted to believe her. Hell, if she planned to use him then he would use her too.

He knew once he placed his lips against hers that she was his addiction. She was the one thing he could not seem to deny himself no matter how harmful she was. His body craved her touch, craved her acceptance, craved entrance into her secrets so that he could divulge his own. His lips descended to her neck: a proud column of rich cocoa skin. He knew he was overwhelming her with his need—displaying and admitting his weakness for her—but he didn’t care. He delighted in the sweet torture as her body rubbed against his erection, that tormenting ache to be inside her. He groaned in delight and despair, knowing she would soon pull away.

She didn’t. She held him tighter. “Kenneth, what’s wrong?”

It unnerved him how well she could read him. He used to be so good at masking his feelings. He lifted his hand to caress her cheek and tell her he was fine. He was horrified to see his hand trembling like his brother’s had. He didn’t answer her, just opened her blouse and captured her breast in his hand, rubbing his thumb over the nipple. He pulled down her jeans and placed his hand between her thighs, feeling the gathering moisture. He felt her hands on his zipper. They were ready for each other.

He abruptly stopped. “Shit.”
 

Jessie looked at him alarmed. “What?”

“Are you taking anything?”

She hesitated. “No.”

“And I don’t have any condoms.” He let out a low growl.

She shifted underneath him. “Look I—”

“For God’s sakes don’t move,” he ground out between his teeth. “I need a minute.” He took a deep breath, gathering whatever control he had left. He straightened, adjusting his trousers. Damn, he was still hard. How could he chastise his brother when he put himself at the mercy of someone who could destroy him? Wasn’t he being just as suicidal, knowingly tearing out his heart, risking his secrets for a few moments of pleasure?

“What you have can be treated,” she said.

He stared at her. “What I have?” He glanced down. Hell, was he showing that much?

“Yes. I’ve seen it before.”

He narrowed his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“Big Sibling Syndrome. You feel it is your duty to repair the lives of your family. Don’t worry. You’re not alone. Michelle has it too. You help people, but you never ask for it. You offer advice, but you rarely take any. You fear failure more than death.”

“What’s the treatment?”

“Sharing. Opening up and letting others help you carry your burdens.”

Kenneth turned to the fire. “You don’t know very much about men.”

“What?” Jessie stood.
 

“If you knew what I was thinking, you wouldn’t be lecturing me right now.”

Jessie could tell by his tone that he was offering her a warning. He had controlled his body, but there was still a hunger in him that he wanted satisfied. She grabbed Dion and left.

He stared at the flames that mirrored the anger in his eyes.
 

 

 

 

Chapter 21

 

Nathan glanced around the bar, taking in the cigarette smoke filtering through the dim lights. The smell of sweat, too much perfume, and liquor clogged the hot air while the sound of a ceiling fan hummed noisily, but offered no breeze. He looked at the quiet man sitting in front of him. When Kenneth had called him up to meet here, he had expected a lot more excitement than this.

“I know men aren’t supposed to be talkers, but you’re taking this to a whole new level. At least order a beer.”

Kenneth glanced at a woman in yellow fishnet stockings. “I don’t drink.”

“Then it’s strange that you would suggest we meet in a bar.” Nathan caught the woman’s eye and winked.

Kenneth shook his head. No, it wasn’t strange. He wanted to test himself; to prove that he was not weak. Although he was surrounded by liquid and carnal temptations, he would resist them. He was strong, no matter how much Jasmine made him feel otherwise. He glanced at a man lighting up a joint. “I need a vice.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to kill a woman and I need something else to occupy my thoughts.”

Nathan nodded. “Murder would be a pretty risky vice.”

Kenneth wrote letters on the table then noticed he was spelling “Jasmine” and silently swore. “She’s playing games,” he said in a low voice. “Trying to twist me up inside.”

“Who?”

“Doesn’t matter. I want to hurt her, make her feel this—” He stopped before he said pain. It wasn’t pain, it was something else. “Betrayal.” He rubbed his chin. Yes, that was the right word. That’s was what had caused the rage and hurt that fought for dominance inside him. It clawed at the control that had always been his greatest protection.

Nathan tapped the table. “I know. Give her something she really wants then take it away.”

Kenneth sat back and began to smile. Perfect. He knew exactly what he could do— Jasmine had given him the rules of the game. He planned to use them to his advantage. He’d let her win the pendant and then set the price she would pay.

* * *

Freda was not pleased with the new member of the Preston household. Syrah, however, was thrilled. She set off immediately trying to housebreak Dion. She played with Dion in the yard while Jessie sat in the kitchen and stared at the phone. Three days until the ball. She would have to call Deborah and tell her that she had won. Then she would tell Kenneth. Or maybe she could tell Kenneth first then Deborah.

The phone rang.
 

“Hello, Preston residence,” she said.

“Are you free?” Kenneth asked.

She swallowed, just the sound of his voice did funny things to her. “Uh, yes.”

“Good, I need to talk to you.”

“Okay.”

“In my office.”

His office. Her danger zone. “I’ll be right there.” Jessie hung up the phone. She would meet him, but this time she’d be prepared. She went to Freda in the kitchen. “Could you watch after Syrah and Dion for a while? I’ll pay you back.”

Freda frowned but nodded. “I don’t mind the girl, but the dog will cost you.”

Moments later, Jessie stood in a grocery store aisle, chewing her nails while she stared at the selection of condoms. She hadn’t realized there was such an assortment: colored, large, extra large. How was she supposed to know his size?
 

She turned and saw a man about Kenneth’s height. She pointed to the display. “Excuse me, sir, which size do you wear?”

His face spread into a leer. He looped his thumbs in his belt holes. “Baby, you want to find out?”

She glanced at him.
A small
. She turned away. “Never mind.”

“You don’t know what you’re missing.”

She picked up a box and read the label. “And neither do you.”

“You’re not pretty anyway,” he muttered and left.

Jessie ignored the remark, folded her arms then grabbed the gold brand. Gold signaled the best and Kenneth was Mr. Perfect after all, right? She bought her selection and dumped them in her bag for easy access then headed to his office.
 

A handsome man in a loud red blazer stopped her on the way to Kenneth’s office. “Jessie Clifton?”

“Yes?” she asked cautious, feeling as though everyone could see what she had in her bag.

“I’m Nathan Phillips, a friend of Kenneth’s. Are you here to see him?”

“Why? Do I need permission?”

He grinned. “I’m just offering you a word of warning. Mr. Boss is in one of his moods.”

“Okay.” She gripped her bag. Nathan’s warning disappeared when Jessie walked into Kenneth’s office.
 

“What happened?” she asked, looking around the room where various vases and plants sat.
 

“You happened,” he said blandly.

“Me?” She closed the door behind her and stepped further into the room.

Kenneth twirled a pen between his fingers. “Yes, it seems you’ve started a trend.”

“The flowers?”

He nodded.

Jessie laughed. “You mean these are all from women?”

“Let’s just say I hope so.”

She bit her lip. “You never know.”

“I know that the local florist is very happy about this.” He tossed his pen down and shook his head helplessly. “I’ve given some away, but more keep coming.”

Jessie read the card sticking out of one of the pots. “To Kenneth. I love you a bunch.” She turned to him and smirked. “How original.”

He reddened a bit. “Can we get down to business?”

“So this is what I smelled last night.”

“Probably.”

“You didn’t sleep well, did you?”

He rested his elbows on the desk. “Can we get down to business?” he repeated.

She picked up a flower and smelled it. “Certainly, Mr. Boss.”

“You’ve been talking to Nathan,” he said grimly.
 

“Interesting guy. Very charming and attractive—”

Kenneth drummed his fingers on his knee. He didn’t want to discuss Nathan. “I need you to do me a favor.”
 

Jessie walked towards him. “What?”

“I need a date for the Hampton Charity Ball and I’d like to take you.”

Her mouth fell open. She missed a step and tripped over the rug. This time she didn’t catch herself. She fell flat on her face. Her handbag dropped, spilling the condoms like candy from a piñata.

Kenneth stood. “Are you okay?”

She jumped up, gathering the items. “I’m fine.”

“What the hell are these?” He lifted one of the condoms and winked at her. “I’m flattered.”

She snatched it from him. “You were saying?”

“I’d like to take you as my date for the Hampton Charity Ball.”

She stared, speechless.
Oh no
. He was doing the unthinkable. He was asking her to the ball. She could
win
.

“Think of it as your rain check for the prom.” He sensed her hesitation. “Don’t you want to go?”

“I’d love to go.” Her voice cracked. She sank slowly into a chair. The pendant was hers; she’d won back her family’s honor. But if Kenneth ever found out... She bit her nails. She would just have to risk it.

“Good.” He gave her the once over, taking in her jeans, blouse, and flyaway hair. “You’ll need to undergo a makeover of course.”

“A makeover?”

“Yes. Important people will be there.”

Her voice fell flat. “Are you afraid I’ll embarrass you?”

He tweaked her chin. “Mind that temper.”

“Why are you asking me anyway?”

“Because it will stop this ridiculous show of bribery.”
 

So she hadn’t exactly charmed him, at least he preferred her to the others.

“I hate when women fight over me like I’m the door prize at a raffle,” he continued. “It’s a relief you’re not like that.”

She smiled weakly.

“So it’s all set.”

“You don’t need to pay for my makeover. I’m not going to show up in jeans and a T-shirt.”

“I like to think of it as insurance.” Kenneth lifted the chain off her neck and said in a soft voice. “Just think of me as your fairy godfather.”

* * *

“I can’t believe he asked me,” Jessie said, pounding her head against the wall in Michelle’s office. “Just when I had set myself up for failure, he asks me. It makes everything worse.”

“Will you cut that out?” Michelle demanded. “You’re giving me a headache.”

“Have a heart, Mich. She is obviously upset,” Teresa said.

“She’s acting like a twit. Why wouldn’t he ask you? He thinks you’re his friend.”

Jessie fell down into a chair. “I am his friend.”

“So just tell him the truth.”

“I can’t,” she said miserably. She couldn’t take him being disappointed with her. Plus she was too close to reclaiming the pendant.

“Well, I’m sorry, but I’d prefer that you suffer in silence. I am sick of hearing about him. First you were worried that he wasn’t paying you any attention. Now that he’s paying attention to you, you fall to pieces.”

Jessie stared up at the ceiling.“Oh how I love coming to you for sympathy.”

Michelle pointed at her. “It’s either Kenneth or the pendant. The choice is yours.”

* * *

A calm summer wind blew over the park as Syrah played with Dion, during Jessie’s tennis game. She loved Dion. He was her best friend. She threw a ball and watched him run after it with his funny walk. Sure she had Denise as a friend, but she was too nice, too good. It made her nervous. Real people weren’t that good.

“That’s the dumbest looking dog I’ve ever seen,” a boy said as Dion dropped a squeaky ball in front of her, his tail wagging in anticipation.
 

Syrah glanced up at the boy. He wore a black T-shirt with ‘Big Jake’ written in large red letters. His long brown legs and arms reminded her of a spider. “No, he’s not.”
 

“Why does he walk so funny?”

She patted Dion on the head. “’Cause his leg is crooked.”

“So he’s dumb and he’s crippled.”

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