Authors: Grace Marshall
Even then she might not have brought the subject up if Barker Blessing hadn’t called her in a total panic. Barker Blessing! Calling her! Her excitement was short lived when the first words out of his mouth were, ‘Dear God, Ms. Flannery, Tess Delaney is being stalked, and if the anonymous email I received is any indication, then the woman could be in serious danger. Heavens! No wonder she wasn’t herself last night.’
It had taken only a phone call to her editor from Blessing, insisting that he be interviewed and that it be by her. It had been remote, but that didn’t matter. It was her interview, her scoop. That was something no one could take away from her. And when Blessing had passed on the email he had received, the cold knot of dread she felt in her chest convinced her that it was the same man. She pulled it up.
I know why Tess acted so erratically last night, why Thorne whisked her away so unceremoniously. She’s being stalked, Blessing. Her life is in danger. And I would know this because I’m the one stalking her.
You need to call Carla Flannery. You need to tell her that you suspected the woman was in danger all along. Talk to Flannery and only Flannery, no other reporters! And don’t talk to the police, Blessing.
Carla always considered herself an opportunist, but she knew Blessing was renowned for never missing out on free publicity. And within a half an hour, her boss had remote cameras set up, and an oh so anguished Barker Blessing had shared his deep concern for Tess’s safety.
The whole situation gave her a bad feeling. But then she always had a bad feeling when she uncovered the best stories. Her father called it her spider sense. He said it ran in the family. She wondered again if she should call the police anyway. But then she doubted if they could do anything she couldn’t do on her own. Besides, who knew? Maybe at the end of the day he was just another nutter having his moment in the sun.
She was just about to give her friend, Al Brewster, down at the police station a call when she got a text. She nearly dropped her iPhone when she read it.
I’m in front of TV waiting with bated breath for your report, Ms. Flannery. Was Blessing good? I’m sure he thought he was.
Her hands shook as she read the text a second time. This wasn’t good. How did the man get her cell number? Before she could fully consider her next move, there was another text.
If you do as I say, you’ll be a hero. If you don’t, just remember how easily I found your cell number, Ms. Flannery. Keep everything in perspective, and your reputation will be greatly enhanced and all will be well.
‘How the hell did she find out about the security?’ Kendra said. ‘They were supposed to be plain clothes. They were supposed to blend in with the party on the lawn.’
‘They are plain clothes. I can’t tell them from the press,’ Garrett said, locking the door and securing the deadbolt. ‘I have no idea how she knew. And do they actually know about the email?’
‘It could be a bluff,’ Kendra said, ‘an effort to try and get something. I mean, most celebrities have security. It’s essential. And the press would know that.’ She already had her iPhone out, making a call. ‘Hello, Stella, I need you to find out about a Carla Flannery. Reporter, yes. In Portland, that’s right.’
Garrett scooted close to her to try and listen in the conversation. But it was over before he really heard anything, and Kendra was pulling up an email. ‘She’s a freelancer.’ She read from the iPhone screen. ‘Mostly works for webzines, but apparently has instincts that have gotten her several breaking stories the mainstream media has missed. She’s got a reputation for being a real bulldog. Ellis would probably know her, actually. She was instrumental in breaking the story about the illegal landfill over by John Day last winter.’
‘Fuck.’ Garrett scrubbed a hand over his face. ‘Just what we don’t need right now, a bulldog of a reporter.’
‘Well, the one thing we don’t want is to make her our enemy,’ Kendra said. ‘If worse comes to worst, we might have to bring her into our confidence.’
‘What?’
‘I said if worse comes to worst. At the moment, it’s just a rumor. No one can prove anything, and there’s nothing to prove.’
He grabbed Kendra’s arm. ‘But what if she knows something we don’t know, what if there are threats we don’t know about?’
‘For God’s sake, Garrett, don’t borrow trouble. It’s going to be hard enough wading our way out of this without letting our imaginations run wild.’
‘Not imagination, Kendra, just being cautious. This is not funny and I don’t like it.’
He barely got the words out of his mouth before his BlackBerry rang. He grabbed it. ‘It’s Don,’ he said.
‘Answer it,’ Kendra ordered.
Before he could even so much as offer a growl, Don spoke. ‘Turn on your television. Local news again, and put me on speakerphone.’ This time he didn’t sound happy.
Garrett found the remote and tuned in just in time to see the view of Kendra and himself from his front porch. The bastards hadn’t wasted any time, he thought. But what the anchor was saying made him forget everything else.
‘In a new development in the Tess Delaney story, it appears that events at last night’s Golden Kiss Award in which Ms. Delaney was captured on film dumping her chocolate mousse into the lap of literary critic, Barker Blessing, were not as they seemed.
‘Reports are coming in that Ms. Delaney’s quick exit from the gala of the year for romance writers, after winning the coveted prize, may have been for the writer’s own protection.
‘Though reporters were told that beefed-up security at the home of Garrett Thorne, who has now admitted to being Tess Delaney’s lover, is only there as a precaution, the whole situation has gotten public attention. Some are saying it’s all been just a publicity stunt. Police are not involved as far as we know, but with the reclusive nature of Tess Delaney being legendary, secrecy is bound to be the order of the day.
‘Reporter at large, Carla Flannery, spoke to Barker Blessing a little while ago at his home, and he had this to say …’
The screen cut to a shot of Blessing sitting bare-chested and well-waxed in front of a swimming pool with palm trees in the background. If someone had sliced the man’s wrist, he would have bled sincerity and concern. Then the screen split to include a picture of the young reporter, looking as determined as Blessing looked sincere.
‘Did you suspect anything during the bizarre goings-on last night at the Golden Kiss Awards, Mr. Blessing?’
‘I did, actually, Carla. Almost from the beginning I was certain there was something the matter, but there was just nothing I could put my finger on.’
‘Except my fucking leg,’ Kendra growled. Garrett shushed her. Blessing continued.
‘Yes, I was worried from the outset; right from the beginning, something didn’t feel right. I mean Tess is always so lovely and so sure of herself, and she was shaken, clearly very shaken. Not at all herself. Not at all.’
‘As if the bastard would know,’ Garrett grumbled.
Kendra raised a hand to silence him.
‘That there have been threats on the poor woman’s life explains so much. Dear God, I just can’t imagine how anyone could threaten such a delightful woman, and such a talent. Such a talent.’
Garrett wouldn’t have been surprised to see tears in the man’s eyes as he looked into the camera.
‘I’m very concerned for her, and I certainly hope Garrett Thorne can offer her the protection she needs.’ He heaved a Gallic sigh. ‘No doubt Thorne’s brother, Ellis, will see to her protection at his brother’s request. Under such circumstances, I suppose that should make us all feel a little better.’
‘Bastard,’ Kendra said.
Before Garrett could thoroughly enjoy the pleasure of Kendra taking his side, Don spoke up.
‘Is any of this true?’
‘The whole thing was blown out of proportion,’ she said.
‘Is there security?’ Don cut to the chase.
‘Yes,’ Kendra said, ‘but only as a precaution.’
‘Garrett, I want to know what the hell is going on, and I want to know now.’
Garrett couldn’t remember ever hearing Don so upset. He caught Kendra’s eye, and she gave him a nod. So he told Don about the email.
‘Fuck,’ Don whispered when Garrett finished. ‘Are you all right, Kay?’
‘I’m fine. These kinds of things aren’t unusual with celebs,’ she said.
‘I know. I know,’ Don said. ‘But still. You didn’t sign on for this.’
‘We’ve got it under control,’ she said. And though she sounded convincing, Garrett couldn’t help thinking how she had been after she’d read the email. She continued. ‘We weren’t expecting the question from the press, and we certainly weren’t expecting it to be blown all over the news, but we’ll adapt.’
‘She’s staying with me,’ Garrett said, maybe a little more forceful than necessary. But his mind was made up. He’d have no argument from either Kendra or Don. ‘Just to be on the safe side. Besides, we really had planned that anyway until we could get the excitement from the award ceremony behind us. That may take a little longer now,’ he added.
‘This is a major inconvenience for you, Kay,’ Don said, ‘Are you sure this is all right with you? With Mr. Ryde? I mean, there are other arrangements we can make if you’d prefer.’
Garrett bristled. ‘This is the best place for her, Don. And anyway, just a few hours ago you were wanting her to go public and start endorsing hair color.’
‘That wasn’t exactly what I wanted, Garrett, and certainly the situation is different now, isn’t it?’
‘The situation’s not different. It’s no big deal,’ Kendra said. ‘This sort of thing happens all the time. How the press got their ideas, I don’t know, and of course, Blessing just ate the whole thing all up, didn’t he?’
‘Well it’s better than him wanting to sue our asses,’ Don said.
‘Yeah, better,’ Garrett grumbled. ‘Now, if there’s nothing else, Don, we’re busy here. We’ve got plans to make.’
He cut the connection before Don could say goodbye.
When Kendra shot him a questioning gaze, he shrugged. ‘He’s hot for you.’
She nodded. ‘I got that from the email he sent to K. Ryde.’
Garrett sniggered. ‘That’s an interesting way to find out what a guy thinks about you, I guess. All you have to do is be two people.’
‘And you would know something about that, wouldn’t you, Garrett?’
‘Kendra.’ He reached out and took her hand and was relieved when she didn’t pull away. ‘I’m sorry I involved you in all of this. Nothing’s quite worked out like I’d planned.’
She offered him a smile and curled her fingers around his. ‘It never does, Garrett. That’s part of what made running the Ryde Agency so much fun.’
He held her gaze. ‘If it was so much fun, why did you sell it, the business I mean?’
The smile faded, and for a brief second the sadness in her eyes was deep enough to drown in. ‘All good things have to come to an end.’ She stood and headed toward the kitchen. ‘I need a Diet Pepsi,’ she called over her shoulder, once again her cheerful self. ‘And I’m starving. You?’
He sat for a second catching his breath, trying to figure out what had just happened. He never imagined when she waltzed into Wade Crittenden’s office at the Pneuma Building a few weeks ago, tossed her drink at him, then bitch-slapped him until his ears rang that she was so complex, so intriguing. Eventually, the rattling of pots and pans drew him to the kitchen. Well, actually, it was the woman rattling the pots and pans that drew him. At some point, he couldn’t remember exactly when, he had stopped pretending she didn’t draw him to her, stopped pretending he didn’t want to be close to her – as close as she would allow him to be. The knot in the pit of his stomach that had been there since the email arrived, since Kendra’s reaction to it, was a pretty good indication she wouldn’t allow that closeness easily.
‘Do you cook?’ she said without looking up from breaking eggs into a bowl. ‘I can just about scramble eggs without it becoming a disaster.’
‘I can do a decent bolognaise,’ he replied.
‘Ah yes, the one male recipe to impress the chicks.’
‘Shall I do it for you and we’ll see if it works?’
She laughed and began whisking the eggs briskly. ‘Gonna take more than a mean bolognaise to impress me, Garrett Thorne.’
‘Then what?’ Unable to resist any longer, he moved behind her and slid his arms around her waist. ‘What will impress you, Kendra Davis?’
She offered a little murmur of surprise and the whisk clattered on the side of the bowl, splattering egg over onto the countertop.
‘Garrett.’ She tried to wriggle free, but he held her, his lips brushing the flutter of her pulse in her throat. ‘Garrett, I work for you. We can’t do this. It’s already gotten us into trouble.’
‘No,’ he whispered against her neck, pushing aside her hair to nibble down to her shoulder, his other hand splayed flat and low on the rise and fall of her belly. ‘You work for Tess Delaney, and you’ve asked me to pretend I’m her lover, so let me play my part.’
‘But I’m not Tess.’ She wriggled to turn in his arms until she faced him, pressed to the counter by the weight of his body, which was already blatantly, shamelessly betraying how badly he wanted her. ‘I’m Kendra. And I don’t like you, and you don’t like me either, remember?’
‘Memory seems to be failing me at the moment,’ he said. Her breath was fast and sweet on his face, and the press of her breasts against him made him ache all over for more of Kendra Davis. He curled his fingers in her hair and drew her mouth close to his own. ‘Just tell me you don’t want me, Kendra, and I’ll stop.’ The last word was pressed firmly to her parted lips, then pushed in between with the tip of his tongue, greeted by her tongue and swallowed up by her own powerful need.
‘Garrett, you’re trouble,’ she sighed into his mouth. ‘So damn much trouble. I should have run away fast the second I realized who you were.’ Then she bit him on the chin, on the jaw, on the throat; bit him hard enough to elicit a gasp of surprise and a sting of pain that translated itself to pleasure down where his jeans rested tight around his fly.
With the flat of her hand on his chest, she pushed him back, but followed, still nipping and biting and teasing his mouth. She pushed him again and again until he half fell into the kitchen chair where she had been earlier when she’d had her panic attack. Once he was seated and gasping for air, she eased the hem of her dress up until he could see the dark cherry red of her panties, until she could get her legs far enough apart to straddle his lap.
Then, without settling onto him, she moved in close, close enough to offer him a long and lingering kiss, while her fingers deftly dispensed with the buttons of his shirt. Then she slid her hands inside, first to pinch his nipples, once again just enough to hurt, just enough to make his cock surge in his jeans, and then she eased her hands down over his ribs, causing him to catch his breath with a deep gasp before she took his mouth again and settled firmly onto his lap, the lace of her panties unable to hold back the thick, wet heat inside. He just had time for a sense of satisfaction at knowing she wasn’t nearly as cool as she pretended to be, and then she began to shift and undulate on his lap, the shape of his erection pressing a tight trough between the swell of her, deeper and deeper with each rocking, with each pressing, until he grabbed her by the hips and held her still, struggling to keep control. ‘Kendra, I’m not about to come in my jeans, so stop teasing me.’
With fingers made useless by arousal he could barely contain, he fumbled in his pocket and would have dropped the condom if she hadn’t caught it.
She giggled softly. ‘Always prepared, are we?’ She took the condom from him and began to unwrap it while he wrestled with his fly.
‘Hope springs eternal,’ he managed, then he hissed a breath between his teeth and lifted his ass from the chair enough for her to worry down his jeans and his boxers until his erection was free. She deftly rolled on the condom, lingering briefly to cup the weight of his fullness. Once he was sheathed and feeling like he would burst, she raised her bottom only enough to pull the gusset of her panties to one side and open herself with two fingers. He caught just a glimpse of her before she settled onto him slowly, torturously, deliciously.
For a long moment, she sat very still, breathing hard, her nipples pearled in an adamant press against the fabric of her dress, her grip like velvet iron around him.
When he could breathe again, when he was sure he wouldn’t humiliate himself beneath her, he grabbed the hem of her dress and lifted it, and she raised her arms so that he could slide it off over her head. In one nearly seamless movement he tossed the dress aside, slid his hands to her breasts, which were braless in the sundress as they had been in the evening gown. Then he took the height of her nipples in turn into his mouth, feeling a delicious sense of triumph in the little whimpers that escaped her throat as he suckled and tugged and nursed, as she held him to her, fingers curled tightly in his hair.