Dark Heat: The Dark Kings Stories (28 page)

That would mean Richard had sent them there. But why?

Suddenly, his chair swung around, and she could feel his black eyes boring into her. Jane made a great show—and lots of noise—as she tried to reach for her pad and pencil. She straightened and looked at him.

I’m sorry,
she mouthed, and started limping to the door.

“Jane.”

She ignored him and the threat in his voice, her heart pounding so hard she could feel it hitting her ribs, she was nervous and scared. Ice now flowed in her veins, and it took everything she had not to run from the office. And never look back.

“Jane,” he barked.

With great effort she stopped and looked at him. “I’m sorry, sir. You know how clumsy I am.”

“What did you hear?”

“Hear?” she asked, and shrugged. “You know I would never listen to your calls, sir.”

His nostrils flared as he glared at her. “Do you want your job, Jane?”

“Yes,” she whispered, growing more terrified with each passing second.

“What. Did. You. Hear?”

She swallowed past the growing lump of dread in her throat. “I heard Sloan’s name. Are we going to do a memorial now that Elena has returned?”

It sounded so stupid, but it was the only thing Jane could think to say.

“Get out. We’ll talk about your eavesdropping when I’m done here.”

Jane stood on legs shaking so terribly she was afraid they’d give out on her. Somehow she made it out of the office, and hastily closed his door before she leaned against it.

“Oh, dear God,” she whispered, her chest heaving from her fear.

She looked at the clock and saw it was the end of the day. She didn’t care that she was supposed to wait for him to finish his call. All she wanted to do was get out of the office before she suffocated.

There was too much muddled in her mind, too much she didn’t understand. And so much she was afraid to even try. But she had to get her thoughts in order.

Jane tossed the pencil and pad on the desk and grabbed her purse. She kept trying to make herself slow down as she headed to the elevator, but it was as if something were pushing her from behind, silently urging her to get away as fast as she could.

She tripped twice and had to grab hold of the wall the second time so as not to fall to her knees, but nothing was going to slow her down.

As usual, everyone crammed into the elevator. This time, however, Jane didn’t politely wait her turn. She shouldered her way onto the lift, apologizing the entire time. And just before the doors closed, she saw Richard come out of his office, looking for her.

Jane’s heart didn’t slow until she was out of the building, but even that didn’t help. She looked over her shoulder once, and hurried to hail a cab. There would be no walking home for her today.

*   *   *

Banan caught sight of Jane as soon as she exited the building. It was easy to pick her out of a crowd with her dark auburn hair. But what got his attention was the fear etched on her face and the way she practically ran out of the building while looking over her shoulder.

Then she hailed a cab. As the cab drove away, she looked back at the building once more.

“What happened, Jane?” he whispered.

Rhys came to stand beside him. “Good question.”

A moment later, Richard Arnold ran out of the building, looking up and down the sidewalk. Banan narrowed his gaze on the tall, thin man with graying hair at his temples and cold, dark eyes.

“I suspect that’s why Jane was rushing away,” Rhys said.

Banan had tried to get Jane out of his head, yet somehow she was firmly inside his mind. Her fresh, sweet scent. Her long legs.

Her irresistible lips.

“There was nothing I could find at Arnold’s home,” Rhys said. “I searched everything. He did have a safe, but there was nothing linking him to Dreagan in the papers.”

Banan grunted. “There has to be something. We’re missing it, is all.”

“I’m thinking what we need is in his office.”

Banan looked at the top floor. “We need to get him out so we can search.”

“You follow Jane and make sure she’s no’ meeting someone. It would be a good time to search her flat as well. I’ll rummage through Arnold’s office.”

With a nod Banan walked out of the alley and waved down a cab. After he gave Jane’s address, he sat back and considered whether Jane was the person they were after.

She had seemed innocent enough, but that initial impression really didn’t mean anything. The terror on her face, however, had brought him up short.

Jane must have seen—or heard—something. Could it be the lead they were looking for? Banan knew Guy was fast losing patience at having Elena continually in the office where someone was trying not only to discover their secrets, but also expose them.

And he and the other Dragon Kings had plenty of secrets. They hadn’t kept themselves concealed for so many thousands of years by sheer luck, though.

Banan paid the cab when they reached Jane’s address. He got out of the car and looked around. Jane was nowhere to be seen. Most likely she was inside her flat.

He was just setting up to get comfortable for a few hours to keep watch when he heard someone shout Jane’s name. He looked to his right to find her coming out of a store, carrying a bottle of wine.

The way Jane smiled, so easily and so accepting, made Banan contemplate the last time he’d been happy like that. He searched through the eons of his memories, but found only a couple of occasions where he’d been blissful.

It wasn’t difficult to remember the last time he was truly happy, back when he was still a dragon. The time before man had come to the land. A time when the skies, land, and water had been filled with dragons.

Banan turned away from such dark thoughts as Jane walked his way. He wasn’t sure what prompted him, but Banan suddenly stepped out in front of her.

There was a flare of distress in her brown eyes before it quickly faded as recognition took hold. She smiled shyly, and he felt another jolt of untamed lust burn through him.

“Banan. What are you doing here?”

He said the first thing he thought of. “How about dinner?”

She eyed him skeptically. “With me? You want to have dinner with me?”

“Is that so odd?” he asked with a chuckle.

“Yes. Yes, it is.” She looked around her then.

Banan inwardly cursed himself. He should’ve known she would be on edge from whatever had sent her rushing out of PureGems.

“Look,” he said, and caught her gaze. “I … well, I’ve been waiting for you to get home.”

She took a step back. “Why?”

Banan was going to have to convince her he was on her side, and quickly, or risk losing valuable time getting to know more about Jane and PureGems. “I wanted to ask you to dinner. I’m usually more suave,” he said with a grin. “I had it all planned out, you see. It didna exactly go as planned.”

For several long minutes, Jane simply stared at him. Finally she shrugged and held up the wine. “I’ve not had a good day at work. I’m not sure if I’m fit company.”

“Let me be the judge,” Banan said and took the wine from her. “Why no’ put away your things and we’ll go eat. I know you’re hungry. I can hear your stomach growling.”

His grin spread when her eyes widened in embarrassment.

“I am hungry.” She paused and bit the left side of her lip with straight, white teeth. “As much as your offer appeals to me, I need to cook.”

“You need to cook?” he repeated, unsure what she meant.

She nodded and wrinkled her nose with a grin. “I know it sounds silly. Some people exercise, some people garden, but I cook to de-stress. And I really need it today.”

His invitation had been a surprise even to him, but he found he wanted to take her out to dinner. He didn’t like the disappointment that welled inside him.

“I always make too much when I cook,” she said hesitantly. “If you’re in the mood for Italian, why don’t you come up. I’m a pretty decent cook.”

Banan’s smile was slow as it pulled at his lips. “I’d like that verra much.”

And he was shocked at just how true that statement was.

CHAPTER
FOUR

Jane winced when she saw the state of her flat. She wished she’d spared a few minutes that morning and picked up. As it was, there was a small pile of laundry—with her panties—on the couch.

Her empty milk glass from the night before was on the end table, and she hastily snatched it up and threw a pillow over her laundry as she walked past. Jane put the glass down by the sink, grateful that at least her kitchen was clean.

“Why don’t you open the wine while I get out of these heels?” she asked.

Banan gave a nod, and once Jane showed him where the opener was, she grabbed the laundry and headed into her small bedroom.

Only after tossing the clean clothes on a chair did she sink onto the bed, wondering what had gotten into her, offering to cook for him. It was so unlike her to be so forward, and though she knew she’d inevitably do something klutzy or say something inane, she still wanted to get to know Banan.

Which, again, was so at odds with her life normally.

She wasn’t without her share of boyfriends, but she’d never felt truly comfortable around any of them. Not that Banan made her feel comfortable, exactly. Quite the opposite, really.

Her body was in a constant state of jumbled nerves, her blood always pounding in her ears, but it was the heat, the unbelievable attraction that pulled her to him yet again.

Even more odd, it seemed being around him appeared to … change her. Not that she could explain how. She was nervous, but a different nervous.

Jane inwardly laughed. Those weren’t the right words, but it was true. She was a changed person around Banan. Someone who wasn’t quite sure how to respond to the way her body reacted to his.

With a sigh, she rose and stripped out of her camel-colored shirtdress and heels, and then stopped in front of her closet. Did she go comfortable in yoga pants and her oversized sweatshirt that hung off her shoulder?

Or did she go for the jeans and a black tee that had been a favorite of hers since she bought it?

Jane opted for the jeans and tee. She ran her hands down the formfitting tee as she looked herself over in the mirror. A quick run of her fingers through her hair, and she walked from the room to discover Banan looking at the shelf of her family photos.

He turned with a smile and handed her the glass of red wine he held. “Is this your mum?”

“Yes,” she said after taking a drink. “That was taken during a trip to the coast one summer. It was a girls’ week.”

Banan’s dark brows rose. “A girls’ week?”

Jane padded into the kitchen and pulled out a large pot she filled with water. “Me, my mom, and three of my female cousins would try to take a trip like that as often as we could. It was girl bonding, as my mom called it.”

“Interesting,” Banan said as he slid onto the stool at the bar and watched her. “Can I help?”

“Nope. You talk while I cook.”

Jane set the water to boil before she pulled out garlic, onion, and basil to cut up. She placed the cutting board on the counter as she faced Banan and began to chop.

“How is it you love to cook?”

She smiled as she thought of her family. “My uncle owned a restaurant in Seattle. He was the chef, and all the kids in the family worked there. It wasn’t always easy working for family, but I developed my love of cooking from him.”

“What did you do there?”

“I started as a waitress, but as you’ve seen, I have a habit of falling and running into things. For the sake of the glasses and dishes I kept breaking, my uncle moved me into the kitchen.”

“And there were no more broken plates?”

She chuckled. “Oh, there were a few. At first everyone was hesitant to put a knife in my hands, but it’s like I’m a regular person when I’m in the kitchen. I have very few falls or cuts. Something my parents have never understood. Everyone thought I might go to culinary school, and I almost did.”

Banan took a drink of his wine and set it down. “What stopped you?”

Jane shrugged, unwilling to delve into that part of her life. No one in London knew why she was there, and for the time being, that’s how she wanted it.

“Ah. A secret,” he said.

Her heart skipped a beat at his lopsided grin. She was caught in his gaze, trapped. Ensnared.

But she wasn’t afraid. It felt almost natural to have Banan in her flat as she cooked for him.

“Everyone has secrets.”

His smile faded as he gave a single nod. “Nothing is more true than that, Jane.”

She looked away and finished chopping the onions and garlic before she put them into a pan to sauté.

“What are you making us?”

She straightened after grabbing a can of crushed tomatoes and a box linguine from a bottom cabinet. “One of my uncle’s recipes, as well as one of my favorite dishes.”

Banan couldn’t take his eyes off Jane. It wasn’t just because she looked good in her worn, faded jeans and black shirt, but he was transfixed with how she moved so fluidly in the kitchen. As if she’d been born to it.

She sidestepped to the stove to cook, but angled herself so she didn’t have her back to him. Her wineglass was near, but she only sipped on it.

“What happened today to make you need the wine?” he asked, pushed by a need to know the reason.

There was a slight jerk of her hand, which was the only sign he’d hit upon a touchy subject.

“It was just a bad day.”

“Was it because of last night and the client?”

She glanced at him, her smile easy as she said, “No. Apparently I wrote it down wrong. Mr. Arnold wasn’t at all happy, but then again, he never is with me.”

“Is that what Richard Arnold said you did, wrote it down wrong?”

Her response was a shrug of one shoulder.

“Why do you stay at PureGems?”

She dumped the pasta into the boiling water. “Most people don’t care for their bosses. I’m no different from thousands of other people.”

“I suppose.”

“What about you? Do you like your boss?”

He swirled his wine in the glass, watching the dark liquid. He knew she spoke of his supposed boss at PureGems, but Banan referred to Con when he said, “Actually, I do.”