Queen of Diamonds (6 page)

“Good thing.”

“Good thing is right. Want to watch that police show you’re so fond of?”

“Sure.” Arm in arm, they strolled into the living room. Ten minutes into the program her dad was snoring softly. Kendall stared at the screen wondering just what she was going to do about her wily employer.

~*~

Logan sat sprawled on his couch, mindlessly channel surfing. He glanced at his clock—three a.m.—gave up any hope of sleep and decided to work on his manuscript. 

Unfortunately, when he walked into his study he was blindsided by Kendall’s elusive fragrance. He raked his fingers through his hair. God, the woman gave him no peace. She was both enigmatic and enchantress. Behind that demure facade lurked a mystery woman who gave off the sensual appeal of a tigress. How could he have worked with her for three years and not realized her allure?

Jittery, he paced. The phone rang. Who would be calling at this hour?

“Hello.”

“Logan?” Laughter and music in the background suggested a party.

“Who is this?”

“It’s me, Cindy.”

Memory kicked in. Petite brunette, liked to party.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m great.”

He glanced at the clock. “What can I do for you?”

“Why not come over and I’ll show you,” she purred, though the purr sounded slightly slurred.

“Do you know what time it is?”

“No.”

“Goodnight, Cindy.” He clicked off and shook his head, grinning. Good ole Cindy. While it was a tempting offer, a gentleman didn’t take advantage of a drunken woman. 

His attention returned to his willowy assistant.  Until recently he’d known nothing about her. Didn’t know she had a daughter—most mothers bored you to tears with pictures of their offspring for Christ’s sake—and was led to believe she had a husband.

The woman was smoke and mirrors. Either that or a pathological liar. Maybe both. She loved her family, was fiercely loyal to them. He assumed the mother had died since her dad lived with her. 

He took a turn around the study and stopped in front of the window where a fat yellow moon shone bright enough to lighten the dark room.

He pushed open the sash and took a breath of air made tangy with sea salt. On the street a tomcat hollered. A cat caterwauled in response. No doubt, a female. “No entanglements for us, huh, ole son?” But somehow the words felt hollow. Even to his ears it sounded like bluster. The tom trotted down the street in the direction of the yowling, his tail straight in the air.  "Hope you have more success than I."

He paced some more then finally settled at his desk planning to google heists. Emerald eyes with a smoky invitation swam before him as he stared at the screen.
Dammit
. He jumped out of his chair, his stomach knotting. And what was she doing sending him smoldering glances if she was involved with someone else?

It didn’t add up. Even though he didn’t know the woman all that well he found it difficult to believe she’d be carrying on a liaison with a married man. His bones told him, it wasn’t in her nature to share. He certainly wouldn’t—if he was emotionally entangled.

Maybe she was lying about the affair. But why? Both his favorite word and her daughter’s, he thought ruefully. Well maybe he’d just have to find out. It was time he got to know just what Kendall was hiding. Tomorrow night was the charity ball, a perfect opportunity for a character study.

Chapter Eight

“You look beautiful, Mommy.”

“Do I, baby?”

“Oh yes. Just like a princess.”

“Since you’re my princess that must make me the queen. The wicked queen.”  Kendall deepened her voice and reached down to tickle her daughter.

Caroline giggled and squirmed. “You’re not going to eat me are you?”

Kendall gave a light pinch to her daughter’s arm. “I’ll have to fatten you up first.”

“You’re silly. But still very pretty.”

Kendall curtsied. “Well thank you, my princess. So you think my all-day shopping excursion and primping paid off?” She laughed and glanced at the emerald silk gown that clung to every curve and flared gently from her thighs down to her strapped black heels where freshly pedicured toes peeped from beneath the skirt.

“Your daughter’s right. You look beautiful.” Her father walked in and bussed her on the cheek before handing her a glass of white wine.

“Thanks Dad.”  She took a grateful sip. Her dad never drank anything but an occasional beer, but mom had liked a glass of wine now and then before dinner.  Said it made the whole meal taste better.

The fruity flavor warmed her chest and tummy. She hoped it would calm her nerves. She could walk into a jewelry store and walk out with a stolen diamond on her finger without a qualm but spending time with her irascible employer made her as nervous as a cat at a dog fight.

Not that she wasn’t fully aware that stealing was wrong, dead wrong. Her stomach tightened and her muscles jumped. But she would do whatever it took whether lie, steal or cheat to take care of her family and if it meant she was a thief so be it. If she had to go to jail she devoutly hoped it wasn’t until Caroline was a grown woman and no longer needed her. The thought sent an icy finger down her bare back in a hard shudder. 

She took a breath and clasped the simple gold heart she wore around her neck. A gift from her mom on her sixteenth birthday. It had been her mother’s and her grandmother’s before her. One day it would be Caroline’s. Absently she traced the intricate scroll work and forced herself to relax. Thank God for her dad.

The doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it.” Caroline skipped to the door. 

She heard the murmur of a masculine voice, caught a whiff of lime and spice, and there he was, resplendent in a black tux and tie. He stopped when he saw her. A slow smile spread across his face as his gaze swept over her. “Ms. Theron, you take my breath away.”

“Thank you. You look very dashing.” She still held her wine glass. “Would you like something before we go?”

“Thanks, no.” He held out his hand to her father. “How are you, Bill?”

“I’m fine.” Her dad grasped it.

“Are you planning on wetting a line tomorrow?”

“Haven’t decided yet. If I do, you’re welcome to join me.”

“I’ll let you know.” Logan turned to Kendall. “We should be going.”

Caroline and her dad walked them to the entryway.

Kendall bent down and gave her daughter a kiss. “Be good and mind your grandpa.”

“I will.”

“Have fun, you two.” 

“Thanks.”  Logan opened the door for Kendall and she stepped out onto the stoop. A soft breeze was blowing, the weather warm for an October evening.  A bird call carried over rustling leaves. A mockingbird, she supposed.

Logan opened the car door then shut it when she scooted in. He went to the other side and got in. “Give me just a minute and I’ll put the top up.”

She touched his hand impulsively. “Leave it down. It’s a beautiful night.”

He turned his hand over and his fingers tightened around hers, his grasp warm and firm. He held it for a moment then let go and started the car. “You’re an unusual female. Most would be worried about their hair.  Which I might add I like a lot better loose on your shoulders then scraped back in a bun.”

“You have no idea how unusual,” she murmured under her breath.

“Excuse me?” He turned down the radio.

“I said you sound like a typical guy.”

“Really, it sounded like you said…never mind. How did you spend your day?”

“Looking for this dress, getting a mani, a pedi and a facial.”

He glanced at her then back to the road. “It was time well spent.”

She cleared her throat. “Mr. Hunter, this isn’t a date.”

“What exactly is it, Ms. Theron?”

“Work. While you schmooze, I network.”

“Glad you said schmooze not snooze.”

“Oh, I think you’ll be able to stay awake.”  She pushed back a strand of hair whipping around her face.

“Thanks to you. Normally, these are pretty boring affairs.”

A few minutes later they pulled in front of one of the historic hotels. Soft music drifted out from open doors. A young man in red livery trotted down the steps to the driver’s side of the car. “I’ll take it, sir.”

“Be careful. No scratches.” Logan slipped a folded bill into the young man’s hand.

“Of course, sir.”

Logan turned to Kendall and offered his arm. “Shall we?”

She nodded, smoothed her hair and put her hand gingerly on his arm.  For coming across as somewhat of a dilettante the man obviously worked out.  Beneath the crisp tux was pure muscle. She remembered the hard planes and angles of his body pressed against her when he’d kissed her, then gave herself a mental shake as they walked through the door.

A sleek, middle-aged couple moved toward them. The man had a head full of silver hair and his partner’s blonde, perfectly streaked hair was drawn back in a twist. Her features were beautiful but cold, her cheekbones sharp and prominent.

Kendall stiffened in response.

“Logan darling.” The woman’s expression warmed. She raised her face for a kiss. He placed his free hand on her bare arm and bussed her cheek. “It’s good to see you again, Grace.” Next he turned to the man and extended his hand, “Charles.”

Charles shook it. “Just finished
Murder at the Mission
. Great read. Kept me up most of the night.”

“Glad you enjoyed it. Looks like you’re going to raise quite a bit of money tonight.” Logan nodded at a couple heading for the dance floor.

“I’m counting on it. Who’s your lovely companion?”

Logan slipped his hand on her back and drew her forward. Her skin quivered and heat shot through her from the slight pressure. She wouldn’t have been the least surprised to find a handprint on her back glowing like a sunburn.

“This is my publicist, and right arm, Kendall Theron. Kendall, this is Charles and Grace Kudlow. They’re the committee co-chairs for raising money for the pediatrics wing at the hospital.”

She held out her hand first to Grace then Charles. “How nice to meet you.” Grace’s touch was brief and limp. Charles lingered.  His smile turned puzzled. “Have we met?”

“I don’t believe so.”

“You look so familiar.”

“Just one of those faces.” She laughed.

He shook his head and let go of her hand. “There’s nothing ordinary about that face of yours, my dear.” He snapped his fingers. “The Queen of Diamonds.”

“Excuse me?” Her stomach dropped and her ears began to ring. She looked around for exits to make a quick getaway.

“I happened to be in a store that she robbed about a year ago.” He squinted his eyes, studied her and laughed. “It’s obvious you aren’t the same woman. She had black curly hair, a smaller mouth and narrower eyes.  It was just a momentary illusion. “

“Thank goodness. I’d hate to be hauled off to jail.” She forced herself to breath evenly and willed her pounding heart to slow.

Everyone laughed, but Logan’s speculative glance did nothing to calm the skitter of nerves under her skin.

“Charles, the Smiths are here.” Grace pointed to the door where an older couple had just walked in. “Logan, I’m counting on a healthy donation.”

“You’ll get it.”

The pair moved away.

A waiter passed by and Logan snagged two flutes of champagne and handed her one. “Queen of Diamonds, huh?”

She forced a laugh. “Fancy you not figuring that out.”

He gave her a quirky grin. “I must be slipping.”

Keep it light
. “It’s the age thing.”

“I’m thirty-two, not sixty.” He took the glass from her hand, set it down and led her to the dance floor.

“I really don’t think…” she began.

Ignoring her feeble protest, he pulled her into his arms and waltzed her around the ballroom. He had a good sense of rhythm and led her with strong sure steps, their bodies a perfect fit. 

The other dancers faded into the background. The music softened. Her silk dress clung to her and whispered as she moved. Lights shimmered around them liked crystalized prisms. As everything else receded, Logan’s blue eyes glittered, mesmerizing, drawing her in, sucking every rational thought from her head, leaving her aware only of the way they glided across the floor in total silence, their eyes locked, heat rising from their bodies, his carrying the scent of musk,  spice and lime.

It was a moment before Kendall realized the music had stopped. She cleared her throat and stepped out of his arms. And she, who was used to standing alone, felt the chill of being alone.

His gaze searched hers, “Kendall, I…” He pulled away and watched her. Her guard shot up and she went rigid. A look of disappointment crossed his features, but was gone so quickly, she thought she’d imagined it. A lazy grin spread across his features, belying his intense probing eyes. What? What did he want from her? “How about another glass of champagne?”

“Love some.”

He glanced around for a waiter. Not seeing one, he shrugged and wove through the crowd toward the bar.

"Kendall, is that you?"

In the process of reaching to tuck back a wisp of hair her hand froze, her blood iced and the pulse in her legs thrummed, leaving her knees weak. She steeled herself to calm. The pleasant had just taken a turn toward nightmarish. Her dress rustled as she turned. "James, what a surprise.” What an understatement. Shock was too tepid a word.

His warm gaze traveled over her, a look of delight on his face. "It is you. I didn't think it was possible but you’re more beautiful than ever."

She dipped her chin. "You’re looking well." Another gargantuan understatement. James had been the handsomest boy she’d ever met, and was now the handsomest man. Or was pretty a better word? She studied him. No one wore a tux like James Roderick the third. Besides accentuating his slender form, the jetty color emphasized his blond hair and deep blue eyes. Caroline's eyes.

Confidence shrouded him like a second skin, confidence that came from old money. She'd always been amazed that she’d caught his interest. A blue-collar worker's daughter and a preppie. But the answer was simple, lust and attraction. They’d wanted each other from the first moment they’d met. She waited for it to hit her again, but it was so distant from the feelings of the past, it barely registered. For the first time she noticed the weakness in his chin, and how his eyes, even filled with admiration, tended to slide away from her gaze.

"What are you doing in Charleston?" She was proud of the way her voice didn't waver or her hand tremble when she extended it. The attraction might be over, but her entire life was still on the line.

He took it in both of hers and held it. "Business. And you? Wait, you’re from here right? I seem to remember you mentioned that on one of the few times we actually talked." He gave a low seductive chuckle.

She withdrew her hand. "That’s correct."

“Why did you leave?”

“I graduated remember?”

“Yes, but you just disappeared. I was going to give you money to take care of that little matter. You were on a scholarship. I remember that.  I know it’s a little late but let me rectify that now.” He reached into his jacket pocket.

“Don’t be insulting.” She turned to walk away.

He reached out and grabbed her hand. “Kendall, I’m sorry. That’s the last thing I meant to be. It was extremely crass of me, but seeing you has rattled me. Something that doesn’t happen very often.”

“You have your hand on my date’s arm.”  The voice was as smooth as always, but there was an underlying edge to it that Kendall had never heard before.

James dropped his hand. He turned to Logan, who stood holding two glasses of champagne. “Sorry. I’m James Roderick the third, an old friend of Kendall’s.” His restrained expression changed to one of delight as he recognized Logan. “You’re Logan Hunter. I’m a big fan.”

“Thank you. Now if you’ll excuse us.” He handed Kendall the champagne flute and put a proprietary hand on her back.

“Kendall, I’m going to be in town for a few days, how can I get hold of you?”

“Try the yellow pages,” Logan said rudely and moved away, taking Kendall with him.

“We’re not on a date,” Kendall protested.

Logan stopped in his tracks. “Did I mistake the matter? Do you want to go back?”

“No,” she muttered and took a healthy sip of champagne, wishing the night was over. She placed the cool flute against her forehead.