The Sapphire Pendant (7 page)

“When the board votes in August, you may not have a choice.”

He sighed. The last meeting had been disappointing. Despite his success, he knew he would always have to prove he was worthy of their trust. The privately held company was not used to outsiders running the business. “We will not sell.”

Nathan licked his lips. “That’s all well and good, but the truth is that I’ve heard rumors that IE—”

“You know what I think of rumors,” Kenneth said, narrowing his eyes. The wrong information could destroy a company, and any successful person knew there were people ready to see you fall. “I have my informers.”

“I know, but you—”

“Brooke has assured me that everything is okay. I will handle things in due time.”

“Why wait? Why not just let me handle it? Why do you have to handle everything yourself?”

“Because I can.”

Nathan shoved his hands in his pockets and sighed fiercely. “Sometimes I think you take the nickname Mr. Perfect too seriously.”

Kenneth returned to his computer and began typing.

Unfazed, Nathan continued. He rested his hands on the desk and lowered his voice. “The computer delays will only give them more fuel.”

“I will handle it.”

“Let my brother Rodney look into it. You can trust him to do a good job.”

Kenneth nodded. “I wouldn’t have hired him if I thought otherwise.”

“You need to spend more time covering your back. Despite what you think, you’re still not completely welcome here. There are many people hiding knives…like Stephanie and Brooke.”

“They are not a concern.”

“Their father owned this company; they should have our jobs. Hell, the only reason I’m here is because Radson thought he owed my father a favor and he gave us shares in the company. I’m there for you, but you act as if you trust them more than me. Even though—”

“I don’t trust anyone,” Kenneth interrupted, his voice suspiciously neutral. “However, I don’t make accusations unless there’s a reason to.”

Nathan opened his mouth to say more, but finally shook his head in defeat.

* * *

“Hey, Jessie, you’re looking glum,” Wendy said, performing a crossed-leg stretch in preparation for their tennis match. “Still upset about getting fired?”

“I shouldn’t be. Waitressing isn’t the greatest job. Remember when we had to dress up like fairies for Catherine McBride’s first birthday?”

“I still have nightmares.”

They both cringed in remembrance.

“No, I’m not upset,” Jessie said. “I just have a lot on my mind, so I’m not in the best of moods.” She flexed her ankles.

“Good.” Wendy pulled a sweatband over her hair. “You’re at your best when you’re in a bad mood.”

“Thank you for your show of concern.”

Wendy grinned. “You know, we’re catering another event in a week. I could talk to-”

“Thanks, but for now, my catering days are over.”

“You know, if you need a companion, Bruce and I still have some puppies left.”

Jessie glanced at the half-naked man dousing himself with water. “Did you have to bring him?”

“I didn’t
bring
him. He’s not a dog.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it. She didn’t like Bruce, who only grunted when spoken to and loved himself more than anyone. The reply was too tempting. “I can’t afford a puppy anyway.”

“They’re free.”

Jessie laughed. “I can hardly feed myself, but thanks anyway.” She sighed. “I made an idiot of myself again.”

“How?”

“I bet Deborah that I could get Kenneth to ask me to the Hampton Charity Ball.”

Wendy stared. “Kenneth? The man you’ve hated forever?”

Jessie glanced at her bandaged left hand. “Yes.”

“She set you up, didn’t she?” Wendy asked, used to Deborah’s conniving ways.

“Yes…no. I should have known better.”

“Fortunately, if anyone can pull it off, it’s you. We both know how much you hate losing.”

Jessie smiled, feeling her confidence heighten. “Yes, so let me start by beating you.”

It was a strenuous and exhilarating game. Towards the end, Jessie was soaking with sweat, but her mind was clear and her trembling muscles were alive. Somehow she would figure out how to manage her social life. Then she saw him: the one flaw in her future plans.

Kenneth was jogging around the park, with the sunlight falling on him like a spotlight. He wore a light, long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants. His body was well-hidden, but she knew he had a great physique. She remembered the broadness of his shoulders. She imagined the muscles in his back constricting and relaxing, rivers of sweat sliding down his chest like water over rocks. He had everything. Why would he look at her? How could she ever try to capture his attention, especially after being mean to him for so long? What could she possibly do to get his attention?

“Jessie! Look out!”

The warning came too late. Jessie saw the green blur of the tennis ball coming towards her, then darkness.

* * *

She felt like she was floating, being cradled like a baby in the arms of a cloud. There were voices: one anxious, one soothing. She pushed them to the back of her mind, not wanting to interrupt the peace she felt. She released a sigh of contentment. The arms put her down, and she felt a light, feathery touch on her forehead. Then a hand slapped her across the cheek. Her eyes flew open; she glared into Kenneth’s smug face.

“Did you enjoy doing that?” she demanded.

His eyes were alive with devilment. “More than you would know.” His face suddenly grew serious. “How does your head feel?”

“Fine.” She sat up, but had to grab onto his arm when the world began to spin.

“You need to go to the doctor to make sure that you don’t have a concussion.” He pulled a blade of grass and a leaf out of her hair. “I’d offer to take you, but I know how much you enjoy my presence.”

She was going to say something biting, but instantly realized that this was the perfect opportunity to change her ways. “No, I wouldn’t mind.”

Kenneth paused, his eyes worried. “You must have hit your head pretty hard. It actually sounded like you were being nice to me.”

Jessie clenched her jaw and attempted a smile. “Are you going to take me to the doctor’s or not?”

He lifted her in his arms as if she were a sack of flour. There was no romance or care in the gesture.

“Put me down.” She tried to wiggle out of his grasp. “I can walk, you know.”

He nodded, casually shifting her weight. “I know. You’d better stop wiggling, or I may drop you.”

“Just let me down.”

He abruptly loosened his grip, and Jessie frantically circled her arms around his neck to keep from falling to the ground like a rock.

He laughed with masculine pride, tightening his hold. “Now look who’s hanging on.”

“Will you please—”

“Just be quiet, or I’ll throw you over my shoulder instead.”

“You wouldn’t.”

He lifted an eyebrow.

“Yes, you would,” she amended in a dry tone. She turned away from him and noticed a couple watching them with curious intensity. As they drew closer, she recognized them: Montey and his wife.

“My dear girl, are you all right?” Annabelle asked, coming up to them.

Montey frowned, masking his concern. “She’s a walking accident, I tell you.”

“Montey, hush. What happened?”

“She tried to butt a tennis ball with her face,” Kenneth replied.

Jessie was outraged. “That’s not—”

“But she’ll be fine,” he continued.

Montey’s frown deepened, and Annabelle looked at Jessie as if she were ready to offer her last rites. They walked on, muttering to each other.

Jessie buried her face in his neck. “Montey already thinks I’m a complete flake, and now this proves it. Can my life get any more embarrassing?”

Kenneth didn’t respond. He couldn’t. He was vexed that he liked the feeling of holding her. She felt so solid, yet soft, and her skin was warm against his, like the pleasing comfort a blanket gives on a chilly night. He enjoyed how her head fit perfectly against his neck, the smooth slope of her nose, the electric brush of her eyelashes; the touch of her hair against his face felt like a whisper of hidden gentleness.
 

He glanced down at her. Her whole body had a healthy, glossy sheen of morning dew. He bit his lip, struggling with the urge to taste her, nibble on her ear. She had pretty ears—intricate, small, refined. His thoughts quickly jumped to other areas he could nibble on. Her chest was pressed against his own.
 

He felt his lower body tighten and inwardly groaned. He had been alone too long to start fantasizing about her. If she discovered that he had any attraction to her, she would probably slug him. Annoyed with himself, he unceremoniously let her go when they reached his black BMW, causing her to stagger against it.

“You’d think I was some sort of disease,” Jessie said, regaining her balance. “I didn’t ask you to carry me.”

He opened the door. “Just get in the car.”

She stared at him for a moment, wondering why his mood had become so sullen, and then finally got into his car.

Chapter 5

She didn’t have a concussion, but she was going to have a nasty bruise.

“Where do you want me to take you now?” Kenneth asked, leading her to his car. He decided to let her walk this time, and placed plenty of distance between them.

“Home, I guess.” Her plan wasn’t working. Anytime she tried to get close to him, he moved away. In the waiting room, when she had sat next to him, he’d stood up to look at pictures; when she went to talk to him about a particular picture, he said he wanted to read. Now he walked parallel with her, making sure there was a car between them. She didn’t know the next step to take.

“You guess?” he said. “You don’t know?”

“No, I don’t know, all right,” she snapped.

He opened the car door.

She bit her lower lip and got in the car, slamming the door. Damn it! Why couldn’t she just be nice? Here she had the perfect opportunity to charm him, and she was snapping at him like a crab. There was no way she was going to get Mr. Perfect to ask her to the charity ball at this rate. Her head was killing her, and her annoyance wasn’t helping. She shut her eyes and tried to collect her thoughts.

The car seat was comfortable, and she was in danger of falling asleep in exhaustion and defeat. The car reflected its owner: neither had any visible flaws. It smelled fresh, and had clean gray carpets and spotless windows. No doubt he tended to its maintenance daily, unlike her own car, which screamed for attention by refusing to start on cold mornings. She wondered what name he had given it. She shook her head and winced. She had to focus. She had to think about something on which to compliment him.

“Thanks…for doing this,” she said, rubbing the back of her neck.

He shrugged.

“I know how much you dislike me, so I want you to know that I really appreciate it.”

He sent her a sharp glance, but still said nothing. He put the key in the ignition, then paused. “I suggest you put your seatbelt on.”

Her charm wasn’t working. She rested her head against the window, wondering how other women would handle the situation. They definitely wouldn’t be talking about seatbelts right now. “Ah, what’s the point? Flying through the windshield might do me some good.”

Her attempt at flippancy only annoyed him more. “The point is that I don’t want to see you flying through the windshield and getting blood in my car.” He reached across her and grabbed the seatbelt with a vigorous yank.

Jessie sniffed. “It figures you would say something like that.”

His eyes locked onto hers like handcuffs. “Why?”

She didn’t reply. For one panicked moment, Jessie thought she would go into cardiac arrest. He was so close—too close. His sleeve softly brushed her arm, and his completely male scent enveloped her senses. His eyes were mesmerizing and melting her body’s normal defense system. They continued to stare at each other. Their breaths mingled in the air, like a kiss waiting to be shared. The mood was quickly broken when Kenneth turned and connected the seatbelt.

“That’s better,” he said in a rough tone.

She only nodded, thinking she must have hit her head harder than she had thought to be entertaining such ideas.

She rested her head against the seat. Perhaps she could get his sympathy by playing the poor invalid. She placed the back of her hand to her forehead, as she’d seen some heroines do in the old movies Teresa liked to watch. “My head aches so much.”

“You’ve been knocked out by worse,” he said flatly. “Fortunately, you have a hard head. But if it’s a killer, there’s some aspirin in the glove compartment.”

Jessie felt her face grow hot, but she successfully kept her mouth closed. That callous reply, though typical, was not what she was aiming for. She counted to ten. By eight, her temper had cooled. She tried another tactic.

“You know it was really…comforting to have you as my rescuer. You’re very strong.” She nearly gagged on the saccharine tone and silly words, but she had heard Deborah use the technique successfully on occasion. “I mean, I know I’m no lightweight.”