Sweetwater: The Kihn (The Sweet Series) (23 page)

“Nick was your first,” he states quietly.

“Yeah,” I whisper. Something in his response nudges at me, but I don’t have time to think on it.

“Why didn’t you wear what I asked you to?” he asks gruffly.

“You mean
told
me to wear.”

“Ahhh,” is all he says.

“What does that mean?” I demand.

“You’re one of those types,” he states.

“And what might that type be?” He certainly knows which buttons to push to get me riled.

“Defiant,” he says with certainty.

“Am not. Not usually, anyway.”

“Only with me.” I can see his handsome face in the lights from the dash. His lips hold a slight smile. I let my silence speak for itself. “Did you happen to notice the work progressing on the fence?” He glances at me briefly.

“I did.” I stare out the side window. When I say nothing else, the silence lengthens.

He asks, his voice smooth as silk, “Tell me, my sweet, why aren’t you gloating about maneuvering me into saving your tree?”

I sense him watching me. I try hard to think of something to change the conversation. “Well, in truth, I’m... embarrassed,” I finally admit.

I feel his gaze ag
ain. “Embarrassed?” He pushes.

“Can we drop this, please?” I ask, impatiently.

“I don’t think so. I’m curious now.”

I sigh loudly, hoping he understands just how much of an annoyance he is. “Fine,” I snap. “You moving your fence, going to such an expense makes me… ashamed.” From the corner of my eye, I see him staring at me. “Please keep your eyes on the road!”

“So,” he says, his voice sounding thoughtful, “you’ll release me from my promise, and I can cut down your tree?”

Men’s lives
are
at stake here. “Yes,” I say softly.

He doesn’t respond right away. “That would make me just that much more of a villain in your eyes.” His voice is sharp. Startled, I peek at him. He’s clenching his jaw, and I see the muscle jerk. I’m fast learning it’s a sure sign of danger. “Would it not?” He glances at me, the silver of his eyes hard and cold.

What?
“I don’t... think you’re a villain,” I whisper. He leans his head back against the seat and laughs harshly.
Okay, I am truly more confused by him than ever. I turn to look at him fully. “I wouldn’t want anything to happen to... your men.”

He gives me another long look.

“Please—the road!” I give a quick gesture toward the windshield.

He’s silent as he takes the Springfield exit, adeptly merging the car into traffic. He reaches over and takes my hand. His touch causes my heart rate to go up. I glance at him, and his gaze meets mine. “Don’t worry, my sweet. I am not cutting down your magnificent tree.”

He seems over his anger, thank goodness. It pleases me that he thinks the tree is magnificent. I do too. “It’s not actually my tree,” I point out.

He takes an exit ramp off the highway. “It is now,” he murmurs.

I open my mouth to ask what he means, but his phone ringing cuts into my comment. Lucas pushes a button to answer, and I hear Max’s voice asking if we’ve reached Springfield. “I’ve got some news,” he says. Lucas picks up the phone from the console. This irritates me because I’m curious about Max’s news. I suspect it has something to do with Sweetwater and the Kihn. Since I can’t hear, I watch Lucas’ face. He listens, and I notice a subtle change in his expression.

“Has Taylor made it back?” he asks, looking over at me. When he sees how intently I wat
ch him, he smirks. Whatever Max says next causes Lucas to nod. “Christian and Sully are a good choice.” I’ve not heard those names before.

Lucas glances my way again. “Yes.” His eyes rake over me. “Very.” His voice has that deep, velvety quality to it, caressing my skin. I turn my head, not wanting him to detect how he affects me. “Keep me posted. Yes, about five minutes.” He ends the call and turns onto a side street, stopping at the entrance of a gated community. From the looks of the guardhouse and the elaborate fence, it’s a wealthy neighborhood.

The guard steps up to the Camaro. “Good evening, Mr. Santiago,” he says when Lucas lowers the driver’s-side window.

“Good evening.”

The guard doesn’t spare me as much as a glance as he mot
ions for Lucas to proceed. “Have a nice evening, sir.”

Lucas gives him a nod as the window whooshes up.

“Should I be impressed?” I ask, noting the guard’s reverent recognition.

He considers me for a moment, the corner of his sensual mouth lifting. “Could I?” I raise an eyebrow in question. He clarifies, “Impress you?”

I give an exasperated sigh, and he chuckles.

As we stroll to the front door of a large Mediterranean home, Lucas’ hand is clasped around my wrist. His thumb moves back and forth across my pulse point, making my heart flutter at the contact.

I was right. This is a rich neighborhood. Money resides here.

Lucas doesn’t ring the doorbell or knock. He reaches around me and opens the door. When his body brushes mine, my heart thuds in my chest. His eyes flash to mine, and his smile is dark and intimate. His eyes slide to my mouth and down to my throat.

“Shall we?” he asks softly. His voice holds hidden meaning within his casual question. I feel as though he’s asking me something decidedly different from if I wish to enter the house. I search his beautiful silver-green eyes as he waits.

“Lucas!” a delighted voice rings out. He pulls his gaze from mine, aiming it at a petite brunette with a pixie haircut walking toward us. There’s an older gentleman close behind her. We step into a large foyer, and I note a room full of people all looking our way.

“Maryanne.” Lucas greets her warmly and turns his gaze to the silver-haired
man. “Walter.” He grasps the older man’s hand and pats him on the shoulder.

Maryanne smiles at me with bright blue eyes that nearly glow. She appears about my age.

Lucas wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me to his side. “This is my friend, Calamity.” I choke at his words and glance into his laughter-filled eyes. “Calamity Smoot.” I give him a narrowed glare as he smiles playfully at me. “Calamity, this is my good friend Walter Pent and his lovely daughter, Maryanne.”

Speechless from Lucas’ stupid attempt at what he thinks is a clever way of provoking me, I smile toward them. I forgot we were supposed to come up with an alias for me.

“Calamity,” Maryann giggles. “I’m so pleased to meet you,” she says with genuine welcome.

“Thank you. I’m pleased to meet you both.” I include Walter Pent with a glance in his direction.

“Welcome, my dear, please come in.” The elder Pent takes my hand and pats the back of it. His light blue eyes are different from his daughter’s glowing bright ones as they gaze kindly into mine.

We enter a large room with couches and chairs strategically placed about—and people. A
lot
of people, and most of them want to speak with Lucas. Several nod in recognition when they catch his eye; others want to shake his hand.
How do they know him?
Then I realize it’s because of what he does, hunti
ng the Kihn. So—I glance about the room. Are most of these people supernatural? The realization that there are so many of them living amongst us regular folk is mind-boggling.

“Maryanne,” Walter says, interrupting my thoughts, “why don’t you take... Calamity’s wrap and show her where she can freshen up while I fix Lucas a drink?”

Lucas pulls me in close and kisses my temple. I glance at him in surprise and catch him giving Maryanne a pointed look. “Take care she doesn’t get into trouble.” His smiling eyes take stock of my pissed ones, and he laughs softly.

“This way, Calamity.” She leads me, amid curious stares, down a hall and opens the door to an ultra-feminine bedroom. I slip off my coat, and she hangs it in the closet. “I love your dress,” she says.

“Thank you. Yours is beautiful,” I tell her, admiring her dress. The long, black skirt, covered in colorful crystals, falls in graceful lines to the floor. Maryanne is about my height, dainty with elfin features. But maybe that’s just the haircut. She is also extremely pretty.

“Thanks. I’m glad to meet you finally—Calamity,” she says, giving me a knowing smile. I return her smile.
Has Lucas spoken of me to the Pents?
“He’s funny, isn’t he?” She giggles again.

I chuckle without humor. “Yeah. He’s—a hoot.”

Maryanne’s laugh resembles glass chimes, tinkling in the wind. “You can come back here anytime you need. This is my room, and no one else will be in this part of the house.” She opens a door on a large armoire. “You may leave your bag in here if you want.”

“Thank you.”

S
he gives me a moment in her bathroom, and we make our way down the hallway, back to the party. Maryanne is so open and friendly. We bond right away. She attends one of the area colleges, lives alone with her father, and his social calendar keeps her busy playing hostess. I suggest she go shopping and to lunch with my friends and me the next time we’re in town. As we arrive back at the main room, I glance around for Lucas.

“I think he and Dad are in the study,” she informs me. “Would you care to go to the kitchen with me? I need to check in with the caterers.”

We make our way across the room, stopping often as people speak to Maryanne. I soon discover I am of interest to some of these people. The last good gawking I had was in Lucy’s henhouse, and this surpasses that. We eventually reach the large gourmet kitchen of my dreams.

Maryanne shows me a place to sit looking out into the courtyard of the U-shaped home. I look around, and I can see through glass doors into rooms across the courtyard from the kitchen. I see parts of the living area we have just come from and guests moving about. I view a couple of men shooting pool. Another room is dark except for occasional flashes of light. Someone must be watching television. The room with two men in deep conversation, directly across from the kitchen, captures my attention the most. I turn to catch Maryanne’s eye. A smart girl, she notes by my expression that something is up.

“What?” She crosses to where I sit.

“Across the courtyard—” I tilt my head in the direction I want her to look “—the two men talking. Who are they? Do you know?”

“I know one of them. That’s the man Lucas is here to meet: Lars Aasen.” I move us to a darkened part of the kitchen so if they happen to glance our way, they won’t catch us watching them. “What’s going on?” she asks.

“I’m not sure. Would you please get Lucas?”

Maryanne goes to a wall phone, punches the keypad, and I hear her say, “Dad.”

I continue to watch the men. It seems as if they are arguing. I’m aware of the moment Lucas walks into the kitchen.

“What are you up to, my sweet?” he whispers in my ear. He places his hand on my bare shoulder, almost making me lose all coherent ability.

“Um... see the two men talking in the room straight across from here?”

“Lars Aasen?”

I watch his face. “The other man came to Murphy’s a couple of months ago after the McNish disappeared. He asked questions about the McNish. And me.”

His gaze flashes to mine from the men. His voice is sharp. “What?”

“He claimed his name was Ed Smith.” I quickly relay how the man questioned Sawyer and Emma Rae.

“Taylor told me about that,” he says thoughtfully, looking across at the men. By this time, Walter has joined us in the kitchen. “I wonder if Ed Smith knows by now what you look like,” Lucas says thoughtfully.

“That’s why I was careful he didn’t see me watching him.”

Lucas smiles into my eyes, and then throws me by gently tugging my earlobe. “Walter, let’s go speak with Lars and Mr. Smith.” Lucas takes hold of my upper arm, turning me to face him. He peers into my eyes. “You stay here. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I hiss. “I’m not stupid.” He raises an eyebrow, and I want to kick him.

Lucas and Walter leave and Maryanne and I find a place to sit in the darkened part of the kitchen, with me fuming. Who the hell does he think he is?
He is the bossiest damn man!

We continue to watch the two men across the courtyard, and just as Ed Smith opens the door to leave, Lucas and Walter arrive. They enter the room, and as Walter moves to the glass doors, Lucas looks our way. His gaze locks on mine, standing in the kitchen in the dark. Then Walter pulls the curtains closed.

Wait!
I want to watch!
“I need a drink,” I tell Maryanne, and we head out to join the guests.

We mingle for a good hour while Lucas and Walter are gone. I’m
on my second glass of champagne, speaking to a cute guy friend of Maryanne’s named Tim and two out-of-town male guests of Walter’s. Maryanne is laughing at something Tim says when I see the smile slide right off her face. About the same time, I sense Lucas’ presence. I spin around and my greeting falls to the way side. His eyes look like molten silver and he is livid.

He grips my upper arm. “Excuse us, Maryanne, gentlemen.” Not waiting for a response, Lucas pulls me along, oblivious to the reactions of people around us. However, I am mortified!

“Lucas!” I try to pull my arm from his grip as he heads down a hallway, opens a door, pushes me into a room, and firmly shuts the door behind us. “Are you insane?” I hiss, angry and embarrassed. “Everyone was staring at us while you—manhandled me!”

“I don’t give a shit!” He glares down at me. “Are you incapable of doing one thing I ask of you?” He demands.

“Stop yelling at me!”

“This isn’t yelling, trust me!” He’s practically shouting as we stare each other down. He exhales loudly in exasperation and clasps his hands behind his head. “I have every reason to believe Ed Smith is working for the Kihn,” he says in a somewhat calmer voice. I bite my bottom lip, and he glances at my mouth. “He might not be here alone, so I wanted you out of sight.” At my surprised expression, he continues. “Why the hell didn’t you stay in the kitchen as I told you to?”

“I-I did.” He raises his eyebrows. “You were with him. We figured...” I can’t finish the sentence because I realize how foolish I’ve been.

He studies my expression before laughing harshly, startling me. Raking his fingers through his hair, he takes a deep breath and meets my gaze. “Let’s get your wrap. We need to leave.”

He holds his hand out, but I move past him, ignoring the gesture. He grabs my arms, pulling me back against his front, against his hard length. My entire body tenses. “Don’t,” I whisper, afraid of how much I want him.

“Shhh.” He nuzzles behind my ear with his nose, and I can’t stop my gasp. I feel his chest expand as he inhales deeply. A piercing stab of desire courses through me when his lips trail down my neck toward my shoulder. My breathing escalates and I close my eyes, tilting my head to give him better access. He pauses over the pulse point, flicking his tongue against the spot. It’s a good thing he’s holding me up. Otherwise, I might slide right down to the floor. The sound of my moan pulls me from his spell.

What am I doing?
I can’t do this!
I start to move from his embrace, but his hands tighten like steel bands. “Please let me go,” my voice trembles. He hesitates and places a kiss on the nape of my neck before releasing me.

I step away, stopping at the door. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, unsure for which misdeed I’m apologizing. I hurry out and down the hallway to Maryanne’s room. She comes in looking fo
r me, and I remind her I’ll call the next time I’m in town. She walks me back to the party, and my gaze sweeps the room for Lucas. I find him with a redhead draped about his body.

What the hell?

In all fairness, it does look as if he’s trying to extricate himself from her clutches.

“That’s Jules,” Maryanne informs me. “She always makes a fool of herself over Lucas. But he only tolerates her because his parents and hers were good friends. They’ve known each other for years, and she thinks she has some kind of claim to him.”

Lucas glances our way, and I catch what looks to be anxiousness in his expression. He takes the redhead’s hands and unwinds her arms from around him. He says something to her, and she turns toward us.