Dangerous Love (10 page)

She grinned. “Medium-rare is perfect.”

“I’ll toast the garlic bread, then everything will be ready.”

He felt Faith’s eyes on him as he placed the buttery slices on a tray and slid them onto an oven rack. When he straightened, she averted her eyes and focused on kitchen, which wasn’t at its neatest. Aluminum-covered bowls and plates sat next to the stove, and the sink overflowed with the dirty pots and pans, cooking utensils, and cutting boards he’d used earlier. Her gaze finally drifted to him.

“Do you cook like this often?”

“Once or twice a week.” Usually the day before the cleaning services came in to restore order in his home. He wasn’t big on cleaning up after himself.

“This is a lot of food. You weren’t expecting visitors, were you?”

He chuckled. “No, so coming for you hasn’t spoiled my evening plans or anything like that. Now can you stop worrying and sit down.” He indicated the stool by the kitchen island.

“Where did you learn to cook like this?” she asked.

“From my mother.” He crossed his arms and propped his hip against the counter, his gaze not leaving her as she settled on the stool and rested her elbow on the counter. This was the most relaxed he’d ever seen her, and he liked it. “She’s a strong believer in treating her children equal. When she taught my baby sister how to cook, I had to watch and learn.” Ken chuckled, childhood memories rushing back. “I’ll never forget the look on my father’s face the first time he found me in the kitchen with an apron on, whipping up dinner, or when Misa came into the garage in overalls and crawl under the hood of his car to help us fix it. He’s traditionalist, but he didn’t stand a chance against my mother.”

“Sounds like you had an ideal childhood.”

“I don’t know about ideal. Mom came from Osaka and Dad is your average conservative American. There was enough cultural difference to stir things up a bit, but they loved each other and somehow made everything work.” He didn’t really want to talk about his childhood anymore. “Why don’t you tell me what’s been happening at Falasha while I set up the table?”

“Oh no, please tell me more about your family. I know so little about you.”

He picked up his glass, sipped the wine, and readjusted his thoughts. If satisfying her curiosity meant a step forward in their relationship, he was all for it. “What do you want to know?”

“Everything. More about your childhood, where you went college, why you decided to join the Bureau.” She raised the glass to her lips and eyed him across the table.

“My mother homeschooled us until we were ready to start high school, then she enrolled us at a local school and went back to work. The transition from being homeschooled to a roomful of kids was, uh, interesting, but we survived it. I did my undergraduate at UNLV, computer science and IT, before heading to Quantico.” He’d been accepted at Stanford, his father’s alma mater, but his girlfriend was heading to UNLV. So much for teen relationship. The romance hadn’t lasted six months.

“Any relatives?” Faith asked, breaking into his thoughts.

He shook his head. “My father was an orphan, raised in the system, and my mother is an only child. Our grandmother lived with us…still lives with my parents now that we’ve left home. She left Osaka and moved to the States to be with my parents after our grandfather died. Mom is a retired elementary school teacher, the toughest I ever had. Now she goes to the office a few times a week to help out. Grandma helps too.” He saw the question in Faith’s eyes. “My parents own a venture capitalist firm. My sister Misa works with them.”

 
“Why didn’t you join them?”

He grimaced, remembering past arguments with his father over his choices. “I like what I do.”

“Why the Bureau?”

“That’s a story for another day. I think the toasts are burning.” He removed the golden garlic slices from oven and transferred them onto a plate. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

He carried the plate and the one with the steak to the dining room.

“Can I help with anything?” Faith called out.

“Nope. You’re my guest, so stay put.” When he rounded the wall separating the dining room from the kitchen, he almost bumped into her. “I should’ve known you wouldn’t listen.”

She grinned. “Yeah, you should have.”

He showed her where plates and utensils were kept and together they set the table. Seated across from her, they piled food onto their plates and added tangy barbecue sauce over their meat. Ken replenished their drinks, picked up his glass, and raised it. “To us.”

Faith blinked. Did he mean ‘us’ as in something special between them or business associates ‘us?’ Perhaps she was reading too much in a simple toast.

“To us.” She touched her glass to his, took a sip then placed the drink down, and reached for her fork.

If Ken was bothered by the hesitation before her response, he didn’t show it. He concentrated on cutting chunks of steak, chewing, and washing it down with wine. There was something urbane yet primal about him that made him so mesmerizing. He’d probably be as comfortable in the boardroom as in the jungle hunting wild game with a bow and arrow. Even when he’d tinkered around his kitchen, there was nothing remotely feminine about him. He’d prepared the meal with masculine poise, a major turn-on in her book.

Ever since she entered his home, Faith had fought a deep-seated longing that went beyond the physical. She couldn’t even begin to pinpoint what she felt or needed. Maybe she should sleep with him and pray that the feeling would go away. Sex often worked wonders for tension and she had been wound up tighter than a constrictor’s knot since she learned of Sean’s treachery. Besides, no one could make her feel good like Ken.

“You’re not eating your steak.”

Faith blinked, blood rushing to her face. She’d been watching him and fantasizing about impossible things, which wasn’t like her at all. Face aflame, she cut a piece of the steak and placed it between her lips. Flavors burst around her taste buds.

“Hmm, this is really good,” she said, savoring another succulent morsel.

“I’m happy you like.”

Ken kept the conversation flowing for the rest of their meal, making her laugh with silly anecdotes about his childhood. Despite his earlier assertions, it sounded like he had a happy and carefree upbringing, unlike hers. Towards the end of their meal, he disappeared into the kitchen and came back with coffee, his black, hers laced with a dash of milk. She was amazed he remembered how she drank it.

“It’s your turn now,” he said, sipping his black brew.

Faith raised her brow. “My turn to what?”

“Tell me about Faith Fitzgerald. How did it feel growing up surrounded by a large family?”

Faith chuckled, though the subject of her childhood wasn’t funny or one she liked to discuss with people. Too many sad memories—her mother working nights and leaving her with her grandmother, who had dementia; the constant worry about whether her mother would be home when she woke up in the morning. Then there was the doubt that still plagued her. Was she really a Fitzgerald?

Faith pushed the memories aside, looked up, and caught the calm expression on Ken’s face. He gave the impression that he could sit there and wait patiently until she was ready to talk.

Something shifted inside her and she found herself opening her mouth. “I wouldn’t know anything about a large family because for years, it was just me, Mom, and Nana…my grandmother. I was ten before I met my father and his side of the family. Fifteen when I came to live with them here in L.A.”

Ken frowned. “I had no idea.”

“You couldn’t have known,” she reassured him. “My father was on leave when he met Mom. He was an officer in the Navy assigned somewhere abroad, she was a Las Vegas showgirl. They dated briefly before he went back. When she found out she was pregnant and tried to contact him through his family, she got nowhere. I grew up believing he was dead, an elaborate lie Mom made up to explain his absence. But in the end, he found us, courted Mom, and before I knew it, we were a family.” Her voice faltered and she found herself fighting tears, which was ridiculous. She wasn’t a crier, damn it. Besides, this was all in the past.

She cleared her throat before adding, “We lived in Okinawa for a while then moved to San Diego.”

The silence that followed was deafening yet Faith felt lighter, like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. When she looked up, Ken’s expression was hard to decipher. Growing uneasy, Faith sipped her coffee. Swallowing was difficult, but somehow she managed it.

“Thank you.”

Her head whipped up. “For what?”

“For sharing such a personal story with me.”

Faith shrugged. “You shared yours too.”

Ken nodded, but his brow furrowed. “It’s amazing that we both lived in San Diego at the same time. Is your family still there?”

“No. Nana was the first to go. She had all sorts of ailments, but hung in there until my parents got married and came back from their honeymoon. Mom died in a plane crash when I was thirteen. My father is remarried now and has two very gifted, very active sons who drive him nuts.” She grinned, remembering the boys’ antics. “They live in Maryland. Both he and his wife teach at the Naval Academy in Annapolis.”

Faith looked at her watch. It was half past ten, way later than she’d thought. She needed to head on home. She drained her cup, carefully placed it down, and smiled. Her gaze drifted to Ken’s chiseled face, the high-cheekbones, the beautiful green eyes, and sensual lips. What was it about him that made it so easy to open up about her past? Even now, she wanted to share more details about her childhood, why she chose fashion design, her dreams, and fears. She was in trouble, she thought as she clamped on those urges.

“Dinner was wonderful, Ken, and I’m happy you invited me, but I have to go home now.”

 
Ken reached across the table and covered her hand. “There’s something I want to ask you first.”

The warmth from his hand seeped into hers and her heart trembled. “Okay.”

“What are your plans for next week?”

For a moment, Faith’s mind went blank. She’d been so sure his question would be more personal. She fought through stark disappointment, slipped her hand from underneath his and brought it to her lap. How could she have forgotten why she’d come to his house in the first place? Even as the question crossed her mind, she realized Ken was waiting for her response.

“Why?” she asked.

“O’Neal and his fellow designers or tenants of their building are having a fashion show on Friday to raise money for some hurricane relief funds. I don’t know how Barbara did it, but she and her friends received personalized invitations to attend the show. I’m coordinating things with my guys, so we can be their plus-one guests. We won’t need to break into the building when we’ll free access during the show.”

For a moment, Faith was confused. Then she recalled the plan Ken had outlined during their last conversation. “You plan to use the party as a cover for your operation?”

Ken leaned against his chair and grinned smugly. “Yep. We know he stores his collection in a vault in the basement of the building and we have the layout of his offices. We’ll be in and out before anyone knows we were there. But to do that, we need to know what to look for among his collection and that’s where you come in.”

Faith didn’t like the direction the conversation was taking. “Me?”

“Yes, you. Only you know which designs are yours. I want you to come with us.”

CHAPTER 8

“I don’t know if I can do that.”

Ken narrowed his eyes, leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. “Why not?”

“I’m flying to New York on Sunday and won’t be back until Friday.”

That would screw up his plans. “What time is your plane coming in?”

“Eight o’clock.”

The party was slated to start at seven and end around ten. He’d planned to be in and out of O’Neal’s offices, including the safe in the basement, during the first hour. Maybe he should stick with the original plan to do this without Faith and just take pictures of the collection. He’d ditched the idea because of the time constraint. Each segment of the operation should take a minute and a half to two; otherwise the security would notice their video feed was on a loop. Taking pictures would only delay them.

“What do you think?”

Ken looked up at Faith and shrugged. “It’s no big deal. I’ll go with a different plan.”

“No, no. You weren’t listening. I said I can catch an earlier flight and make it back for the party. When does it start?”

Ken grinned, liking her attitude. “Seven o’clock. You think you can send me your itinerary as soon as you have it?”

“Sure.”

“Do you need a ride from the airport? I’m heading to San Diego tomorrow for my parents’ anniversary, but I’ll be around on Friday.”

“Thanks for the offer, but that won’t be necessary. It’s easier to just drive myself and use the long-term parking. I really should head home now.” She pushed the chair back and stood.

Ken got to his feet too and followed her to the living room. He leaned against the wall, his attention riveted by the graceful way she picked up her jacket and shrugged it on. Her top stretched across her chest, caressing the perfect mounds underneath. Light bounced off the red strands on her stylish, shoulder-length auburn hair. When she reached down to pick up her bag and her jeans stretched across her delectable bottom, blood rushed to Ken’s groin.

He wasn’t a big believer in casual affairs. Even in college, while his best friend Ron Noble, who was now happily married to Faith’s cousin Ashley, chased women and moved on to the next, he’d preferred monogamous relationships. That was not to say he hadn’t had one night stands, more so in the last year. Unfortunately, sex with strangers only gave him brief release and fueled the hunger he had for one woman, this woman.

Faith looped the strap of her bag over her shoulder and gave him a tiny smile. “So how did you like working with Barbs and her friends?”

“Maddening, but they’re good.” He walked toward her, her exotic scent reeling him in like nectar to bee. His gaze skimmed her curvaceous, tall body before moving to her stunning face. The need to reach out and touch her rolled through him. He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “You’re lucky to have them in your corner. They’re very loyal.”

She chuckled. “I don’t know about that. Barbs called me this morning and refused to tell me about what happened at Sean’s, but she couldn’t stop talking about you. Did you really make them sign a confidentiality agreement?”

Ken tried to keep a straight face. “It’s my policy to discourage meddling women by throwing legal papers at them.”

“Your policy?”

“Yep. Since yesterday. Unfortunately, it backfired.”

Faith laughed. The sweet sound wrapped around his senses like warm honey. Ken gut tightened. A need so primal slammed through him. Forget waiting. He had to touch her.

“I hope you’re not going to make me sign one too.” She started to walk past him, but he caught her hand. One look into his eyes and her laughter disappeared.

“You don’t meddle. Besides, we have a business contract.” He ran his other hand up and down her arm, his gaze not leaving her face. “Now I want to discuss a personal one.”

Her perfectly arched eyebrows rose. “Personal contract?”

Ken grimaced, for the first time in his life he was afraid to say the wrong thing and had to choose his words carefully. “What I’m trying to say is there’s something between us, an undeniable chemistry that won’t go away just because we choose to ignore it.”

“You’re right,” she said without hesitation.

No arguments, no denials. Ken loved that. “Then let’s do something about it. We’re both single, healthy, consenting adults.”

Her hand tightened around his and her tongue slipped out to wet her lower lip. “Ken, I’m not ready for a relationship.”

“I understand that.” The thin sheen on her lower lip beckoned him. He stepped closer, reaching up to caress her jaw. Her skin was silky soft and warm. “I’m not asking for a relationship. Let’s take it one day at a time and see how it goes.”

“For how long?”

“For as long as we want. No pressure, no expectations.”

The corners of her lips lifted in a smile. “Sounds like friends-with-benefits.”

He hated that term. It was probably coined by some idiot who couldn’t commit to one woman, but he was willing to have Faith on any terms. Ken forked his fingers through her gorgeous hair, gripped the back of her head and leaned in. In her spiked heels, they were nearly the same height. “Then let’s start on those benefits.”

His lips meshed with her soft ones, and intense desire sheared through him. Using control he’d never needed, Ken fought the urge to possess and brand her, to sate the hunger that clawed his gut. But scaring her off was not part of his plans.

He rubbed his lips across hers, nipped the corners, her cheeks. He nuzzled his nose against hers and inhaled the scent of her skin. She felt so right every time they touched, like she was made just for him. He moved to her closed eyelids, her temple.

“Ken?” she whispered.

“Yes, baby.”

He tilted her chin with his thumb, giving him access to her throat, and trailed his mouth down to the pulse leaping at the base of her neck.

“Kiss me.”

He chuckled. “That’s what I’m doing.”

“Teasing.” She gripped his head, turned it to bring his mouth to hers.

Lust slammed into him and all his intentions to take it slow flew into the night. His tongue swept deep to mate with hers, plundering, taking and receiving. She tasted of coffee, wine, and pure sweetness.

A thud filled the silent room as her bag slipped from her shoulder and hit a side table. Her arms looped around his neck and pulled him closer, like she couldn’t get enough of him. Her eager and unbridled response filled him with smug satisfaction. No matter what she said, or how long they were apart, they belonged together.

Time held no meaning as hands caressed, tongues danced, and hips ground against hips. The bulge behind his zipper throbbed, as she groaned. Her nails dug into his scalp, reminding him of the past.

Without allowing their lips to part, he wrapped his arms around her bottom and lifted her up. When her legs parted and straddled his hips, he took the necessary steps that brought them to the couch and sunk into it, taking her with him.

Faith wrenched her lips from Ken’s, tilted her head to suck air into her starved lungs. His lips and hands were all over her, and she welcomed the onslaught. The knot of desire weaved its magic, leaving her both excited and scared. She was so hungry for him, she shocked herself. Yet she felt not a single ounce of shame. Sex between them before had been earth-shuttering. Made her feel alive. She desperately needed to feel alive again.

She’d agreed to the friends-with-benefits arrangement with one goal in mind—sleep with him in order to get him out of her system. But the more they kissed and touched, the more she realized she’d missed Ken. The taste of him. She nipped at his jaw. The intoxicating scent of him. She buried her face in his neck and inhaled. Most of all, she’d missed the way he made her feel. Feminine. Powerful. That it was okay to let go because he’d be there to catch her. She wanted Ken. Not next week when she came back from New York. Not forever. Right now. As though he read her thoughts, he tugged at her jacket with impatient fingers.

She sat up. “Let me.”

As she twisted and fumbled to remove the jacket, Ken groaned. Her gaze flew to his face. Tiny beads of sweat pooled across his forehead and his eyes were glazed. “You okay?”

“I will be. Give me a minute.” He raised her slightly, and she realized that her bottom was positioned perfectly on his powerful thighs, cradling his engorged member pushing up his pants.

Her hands itched to stroke him, relive every moment she’d missed. She quickly shrugged off her jacket and threw it over her shoulder, eliciting a chuckle from him. She grinned, reaching out to run unsteady fingers along his sculptured lips. Clever, beautiful lips. The way they curved when he smiled. The merciless way they teased her senses and drove her crazy. She dug into the grooves that appeared and disappeared from his cheeks when least expected, caressed the strong square jaw….

Ken didn’t speak. He let her explore his face, his hands coming to rest on her waist. He sucked air when she reached down and slid her hands under his T-shirt. His skin scorched, muscles trembled under her palm. She reveled in his response, the power she wielded over his body.

“I’ve missed you,” he groaned.

She couldn’t bring herself to utter the words telling him she’d missed him too. What was she afraid of? Didn’t she just tell him about her parents? Something she’d never told anyone. Ken would never hurt her.

This wasn’t the moment for self-analysis. One of her legs, jammed between Ken and the back of the sofa, started to tingle from lack of circulation. The other one landed on the carpeted floor with a muted thud. “I don’t think this will work.”

Ken stiffened.

“Why?” he growled.

“Because making love on this sofa is killing me. I need to get out of these boots and—”

He cut her off with his lips, released her long enough to laugh and say, “You drive me crazy, you know that? Let’s take it upstairs.”

She circled his shoulders, kissed him in response. He wrapped his arms around her waist, swung his feet to the floor and stood up with her as though she weighed nothing.

Faith tightened her thighs around him. “I can walk.”

“Humor me.”

“And just so we’re clear, I plan on going home tonight.”

“Funny, I plan on persuading you to spend the night.” Then his mouth claimed hers, the plundering kiss, one of sexual possession.

Faith could barely breathe, the erratic thump of her heart drowning all thoughts. Ken took the stairs like a man on a mission. He reached the upper landing and headed left along a hallway. Soon, he was lowering her onto the floor in his bedroom. A single bedside lamp lit the familiar bronze and charcoal room. Everything became a blur when he picked up where he’d left off, nibbling her neck, her shoulder, his hands slipping under her top to find skin.

Faith shivered, yet she burned and drowned with needs and emotions she couldn’t keep up with. A soft breeze stroked her overheated skin as he unbuttoned her shirt. He removed it, cupped her breasts and played with her nipples. His lips followed, the bra no barrier as he suckled the tight nubs.

She grabbed his shoulders to keep from falling when her knees gave out. Scooping her up, he gently laid her on the bed. Faith watched him through a canopy of lashes as he moved to her feet, unzipped her right boot and pulled it off. Then the next. She lifted her hips to help him peel the jeans off until all she had was her bikini briefs and the matching bra. He knelt at the foot of the bed, his gaze running up and down her body.

“You’re so beautiful,” Ken said. He swept a hand up her calf, sending tingles all over her.

She didn’t know whether it was a lust-induced observation or not, but she reveled in the awe in his eyes. It was her turn to feast on his nakedness, to feel and touch. She sat up and crawled to where he knelt.

“So are you, Ken. Beautiful, generous, amazing.”

She helped him undress, pushing his T-shirt off his body and pressing her lips to the exposed skin—his taut stomach muscles, his chest, the erratic pulse beating at the base of his powerful neck. He raised his arms and assisted her. They quickly dispensed with the rest of their clothing, fell in each other’s arms, a wild joining of mouths and tongues, bodies rubbing, hands caressing and kneading.

He stroked his way up her inner thighs. She opened wider and lifted her hips, anticipation driving her insane. When he reached her neediest center, he delved deeper into the slick folds with one finger, then another.

Faith writhed and buckled. She was so ready she could explode. “Please.”

Ken reached across her and pulled open a bedside drawer. A rip and crackle and he put the latex on. Then he raised her legs around his waist. He positioned himself at the entrance of her body and hesitated, his gaze finding and holding hers under the soft glow of the lamp. Feeling exposed and vulnerable, Faith started to close her eyes.

“Don’t.”

She wanted to defy him but couldn’t. Gazes locked, he lowered his hips and entered her. A gasp escaped her. How could she have forgotten how big he was, how he went on forever, stretching her, filling her so completely? Locked hip to hip, she sighed and savored the connection.

This goes beyond sex
. Faith rocked her hips, an attempt to block that haunting inner voice.
This is coming home.