Silk Confessions (13 page)

Perhaps seeing the futility of firing questions at Wes, she directed a haughty stare toward Tempest.

Certain Wes wanted to run the show with their visitor, she said nothing.

“Not until you explain your reason for showing up here unannounced.” The scowl on Wes’s face suggested he didn’t appreciate high-handed attitudes.

Tempest held her breath, wondering if Kelly would turn out to be the intruder who insisted she was in the wrong business. The Whores ’R’ Us business.

“When I found out Tempest wouldn’t be in the office today, I decided to track her down at home because what I have to say won’t wait.” Kelly smoothed her hands over her skirt before she looked Tempest in the eye. “I’m handing in my resignation.”

“You’re quitting?” She hadn’t been prepared for that, considering Kelly had done everything but stand on her head to prove how committed she was to Boucher Enterprises. “You had so many plans for development, so many projects in the works overseas.”

“Wait a minute.” Wes reached out toward Kelly. “I’d like to see the letter please.”

“That’s between me and Tempest.” Her coral-painted lips curled. “And you haven’t even explained to me what’s going on here. If I’m going to be greeted by a gun in the face, I think I’ve earned the right to know why.”

“The NYPD is helping Ms. Boucher find out who’s been harassing her. And you’re welcome to leave if you can produce the letter of resignation you say you were submitting today.”

“Well I can’t do that because I haven’t actually drawn it up yet. I wanted to speak to Tempest about what terms I might expect.”

As if. The woman was insane if she thought she could dictate terms for quitting.

Wes didn’t look overly impressed with her answer either. Nor did he seem any more pleased with the hedging answers she went on to give about her whereabouts the night before, after she’d left Mick’s Grill, or her reasons for using MatingGame’s services in the first place.

She maintained her dating life was her personal affair, and that she’d gone straight home after meeting Wes. A fact which no one could vouch for since she lived alone and hadn’t seen anyone on her way into her apartment.

After another half hour of circular conversation and petulant answers, Wes allowed Kelly to leave with a re minder that she needed to conduct all business with Tempest at the company headquarters and not a private residence.

When the apartment door finally slammed shut be hind her co-worker, Tempest didn’t even know where to begin. She had more reason than ever to suspect Kelly was up to no good, although Wes said it would be difficult to prove anything until she made her next move.

Did that mean Tempest needed to wait for an escalation in violence against her?

And as if that weren’t unsettling enough, she also hadn’t even succeeded in getting Wes to agree their affair was over. But with a whole new set of fears and worries churning through her, she didn’t know if she could find the emotional fortitude to debate the merits of a relationship built on lust today.

Now, she watched Wes as he stared out the window toward the street, thudding his forehead lightly on the glass. Making sure Kelly really left?

He turned toward her after a long moment, swiping a hand through his dark hair.

“She’s lying about why she came over here.” He stalked restlessly around the apartment, his body tense as if every muscle was coiled with tension.

Tempest said nothing, sensing he’d entered some kind of thinking zone and hadn’t really been talking to her anyhow.

He paced a few more steps and stopped. “And we know she uses MatingGame to meet men. But is she strong enough to—” Pivoting on his heel, he focused on her. “Do you know if she works out?”

Confused, she shook her head. She’d only been on board with the company for eight months, and Kelly had probably been out of the country half that time.

“The murder victim was strangled,” Wes continued, picking up his pace again until Eloise barked at him, tail wagging. “And whoever did it would have needed a hell of a lot of muscle.”

Tempest bent to quiet her dog while that bit of information rolled over her. Strangulation? Somehow it seemed more brutally cold than a gunshot. She wondered why she hadn’t asked Wes about it before.

Her fingers went to her throat, seeking the reassurance of her favorite quartz pendant until she remembered she hadn’t worn it today. She was still loafing around the apartment in her bathrobe.

Before she could ask Wes more about how the murder case related to the break-in and vandalism at her apartment, the doorbell rang, raking along nerves al ready worn raw. This time at least, her visitor had used the buzz-in system connected to the downstairs door.

“That’ll be my partner,” Wes supplied as he moved toward the intercom speaker and exchanged a few words with a woman on the other end. Turning back to Tem pest, he pushed the buzzer to admit the newcomer. “I called her
before I took a shower this morning so she could swing by for a couple of hours.”

Wes worked with a woman?

A stupid concern when ten thousand other worries bombarded her from all sides, but Tempest couldn’t deny the flash of jealousy at the thought.

“You asked your partner to come here?” Why hadn’t she at least taken a shower this morning? She probably looked like she’d been cut from one of those real-life cop shows where the women were always wearing mangy bathrobes with their hair shooting out of their heads in twenty different directions.

But logically, she knew that if she wanted Wes to solve his case, it would be a good thing for him to join forces with his partner instead of sacrificing himself to Tempest’s insatiable new lust day after day.

“I’ve got to meet the next batch of women from Blind Date at Mick’s this afternoon, but I trust Torres to keep you safe.” Withdrawing his gun from the back of his pants, he flipped some little switch under the barrel be fore dropping it into a holster he’d slung over a chair.

Again with the dates?

She hated the idea of him spending all afternoon getting hit on by women from every borough in the city, but she held her tongue and slowly quelled her old in securities, reminding herself that just yesterday she’d been looking for a way to get some distance between her and Wes. Today it seemed, she’d have it in spades.

There was a knock at the door behind her, startling her into realizing that Wes would be walking out to hunt for a killer who had strangled his last victim. And it dawned on her in that instant that her jealousy seemed petty and her need for distance seemed incredibly selfish. Right now, only one thing mattered.

She reached out to stop him before he could admit his partner, her hand clenching around his wrist. “Be careful.”

“You, too.” Leaning in for a kiss, he covered her mouth with his and clamped his hand around her jaw, holding her steady while he tasted her one more time.

As he released her and Tempest stared up into his eyes, she already regretted that it would be their last.

W
ES WRENCHED OPEN
Tempest’s door, ready to lose himself in work since his personal life seemed to be disintegrating under his feet. Untangling a murder case seemed easy compared to comprehending the intricacies of the female mind. The taste of Tempest’s kiss lingered on his lips as he spied his partner on the other side of the door.

Holding the leash of his 150-pound St. Bernard.

“You brought Kong?” His words were lost in an onslaught of barking and growling as the two dogs spied each other.

Eloise launched in front of Tempest to go head-to-head with the new canine in her territory. Vanessa’s body lurched forward with the force of Kong’s response, though she clung tenaciously to the leash.

“I thought it would be a nice surprise,” Vanessa shouted over the din of woofing. “I didn’t know she had a dog.”

Tempest’s voice cut through the noise. “Eloise, heel.”

The terse words seemed to soothe the German shepherd, her barks quieting as she padded behind Tempest, though her fur remained ruffled along the back of her neck.

Vanessa whistled appreciatively while she struggled with Kong. “That’s an animal with some pretty manners.”

Wes sighed as he took the leash from his partner. “Don’t
let her upstage my dog, Torres.” Tugging harder, he shouted to Kong until he got her settled down and almost civil. “She’s just a little more high-spirited.”

Wes quieted Kong as he stroked her head, but there was nothing quiet inside him as he thought about walking out of Tempest’s apartment. Sure it might be easier to leave now than to confront the whole host of concerns Tempest revealed this morning, but he’d been choosing that easy route for too long, continually opting for the path of least resistance when it came to relation ships.

Something about Tempest made him want to work a little harder this time, to try his hand at untangling the knots and soothing the raw emotions exposed from their night together. And damned if the thought of losing her didn’t make him reevaluate things. Rethink what he wanted out of his life.

After making introductions in the foyer, Wes watched the dogs circling each other and inspiration struck. A way to buy himself a little more time.

“Vanessa, how about you take Kong and Eloise down to the street and let them get more comfortable with each other on neutral terrain? They might relax faster that way and you can treat them to a snack.” He hoped his partner would take the hint since he really needed a few more minutes with Tempest.

“Are you sure she can handle both of them?” Tem pest bit her lip as she looked from the dogs to Vanessa and back. “They’re pretty big.”

“Vanessa’s stronger than me. And she’s a ninja.” He dug in his wallet for a few bucks and jammed them in his partner’s hand before she could protest. He clipped Eloise’s leash to her collar and handed it to Vanessa. “She’ll be fine.”

He pried the door open behind her and steered her into
the hallway as he lowered his voice for her ears alone. “I need five more minutes if I’m ever going to break the one-month barrier like we talked about. Got it?”

Understanding lit her eyes before Tempest followed them out.

“There’s a pretzel vendor on the corner,” Tempest called over his shoulder. “Eloise is usually more agree able after a visit with him.”

To Wes’s relief, Vanessa nodded. Smiled. “No problem.” She turned her gaze on him, however, and frowned. “And I’m
not
a ninja. I practice
kendo
, you damn cave dweller.”

Steering the dogs toward the stairs, Vanessa walked away, lean muscles flexing as she wrangled the animals and began to lecture them about proper canine street etiquette.

Unwilling to waste his window of time with Tempest, he guided her back inside the apartment, closing the door behind them.

“What was that all about?” She eyed him warily, her bathrobe swinging about her legs as she turned to face him. “What one-month barrier?”

Wes had forgotten women possessed bionic hearing.

“Inside joke.” He held out the desk chair for her and waited for her to take a seat before he leaned on the desk. “Vanessa says I can’t keep a relationship for more than a few weeks, hence the one-month obstacle. I hoped if she could give us a little more time together, I could figure out what happened to make you do the about-face this morning.”

She frowned for a moment before her eyebrows lifted in tandem, her face the picture of surprise. “Because you want to break the one-month barrier with
me?
”

“You find that so difficult to believe?”

“A little.” She reached for his hand, smoothing her thumb across the back of his knuckles and then up to the tattoo on his wrist. “You must know even better than me that it’s tough to put yourself out there and trust in someone.”

“Hell, yeah, I know. I’m a three-time loser in the trust department.” He took her hand in his, halting her fingers in their quest. Vanessa told him he shouldn’t always expect the worst from people, right? Maybe the time had come to charge into this mess with Tempest and expect—hope for—the best.

She opened her mouth to speak, but he had more to say on that subject. If he was going to put himself out there, he would do it all the way.

“Twice I lost out to women who would probably argue I chased them away by not being committed enough.” Maybe they were right. But Wes had always felt like he gave it his best shot. “And a third time I trusted my partner could hold it together while under cover and was blown out of the water when he turned. I still can’t fully believe he went rogue, but the reports from an investigation around his murder all point to him being waist-deep in criminal activity. You’d think I’d know better by now, wouldn’t you?”

Tempest leaned forward in the desk chair, her hand brushing over his knee. “I’m sorry, Wes. I didn’t know—”

“Doesn’t matter.” He interrupted the sympathetic words he didn’t need anymore. He simply wanted an other chance with her, and he was determined to secure it before he walked out of her apartment today. “What I’m trying to say is that maybe
I’m
the romantic and you’re the cynic if I’m the only one willing to give this a chance.”

It was the best he could do, the most forthright he could be. He’d put himself on the line for her this time, showing a side he hadn’t shared with anyone for too many years.
He didn’t toss aside his pride and call him self a romantic for just anyone, damn it.

Tempest was special.

She blinked hard, as if trying to process what he was saying. Her brown eyes studied him intently.

“I’m not being cynical.” She shook her head, denying the obvious. “It’s called being practical. I’ve had my whole life on hold for the last eight months until I figure out who to entrust with my father’s business. I’m caught between my dreams and my reality so often, I don’t even know who I am half the time. That doesn’t seem like a fair way to start a relationship.”

“Who cares about fair? I’m not a demanding guy.” He’d never asked much of any woman except fidelity for as long as they were together, and he knew without question that Tempest was the kind of woman who would view faithfulness the same way as him. Yet she wanted something else from him. Something he couldn’t seem to understand. “You’re busy and I appreciate that. So I’ll take what you can give and we’ll see how it goes.”

“But
I
care about being fair,” she said softly, seemingly unfazed by his appeal as she tied the belt on her bathrobe, cinching it closed. “And I’m not just worried about what’s reasonable for you. When I’m ready to take the gamble with my heart, I want to give myself a real shot of making it work.”

He didn’t know how to argue his way around that without sounding like an insensitive jerk. His damn tat too itched again, except he knew it wasn’t the tattoo. It was just a stupid head-trip that surfaced with remark able regularity whenever a woman talked about some thing like her heart.

“I’m not asking for forever, Tempest.” He wasn’t asking her to sign her name in blood, for crying out loud. He just
wanted to be with her tomorrow. And the next day. And a few more afterward, if she’d let him.

“Believe me, I’m well aware of that.” She managed a lopsided smile he’d never seen before, a grin that didn’t look entirely happy to his eyes. “I just don’t think we should jump into anything when you’re not even sure what kind of feelings you have for me.”

Hadn’t he told her how he felt by asking her to stay with him and work things out? He’d given her more of himself than any other woman, and she was still turning him down. As the sound of dogs barking drifted up to Tempest’s third-floor window, Wes realized his opportunity to convince her was over.

And he’d failed.

She wanted to know how he felt? He imagined his condition at this moment in time wasn’t all that different from lying facedown on the street after fighting a losing battle. He’d been gutted and left to bleed out while her voice sounded farther and farther away.

The sensation gave him all the more reason to find Tempest’s stalker today—to close his case and get on with life. Alone. No matter that he’d put himself on the line, risking heart and pride to a woman too caught up in her own life to make time for him.

There was nothing left for him here.

“W
AS IT JUST ME,
or did Wes seem a little out of it when he left?” Vanessa Torres had been low-key company for most of the afternoon, staying out of Tempest’s way while she showered and then worked on a new sculpture, a male vampire figure with outstretched arms.

Tempest couldn’t think of any other way to burn off the mixture of fear, frustration and regret suffocating her
ever since Wes seemed to shut her out and had left the apartment without hearing her side of things.

But apparently Vanessa wasn’t going to keep quiet on the subject of Wes all day.

“I just assumed he was getting himself into work mode.” Tempest didn’t want to discuss the trouble between her and Wes with a stranger, especially when she didn’t even understand it herself. She only meant to ask him for more time to figure out what she wanted in life, a few more weeks to become the independent woman she knew she could be.

But somehow, Wes seemed to take that as a rejection, even going so far as to tune out half of what she said. Or so it seemed. She couldn’t tell what happened any better than Vanessa, but she knew that—in Wes’s eyes, at least—she had slighted him by not agreeing to forge ahead with a relationship even though she knew she wasn’t ready.

“He’s not usually like that at work,” Vanessa ob served lightly, watching Tempest mold the basic lines of the vampire’s bare chest with her hands before she picked up a carving tool. “If anything, he’s hyperfocused about the job and today he seemed a million miles away.”

The comment echoed in the wide-open studio space, a weighted silence that seemed as much a presence in the room as the two dogs and two women.

She ignored it.

“Have you and Wes been working together for a long time?” Neatly changing the subject, she contemplated the shoulders of her vampire man and wondered what it would be like to be wrapped in those strong arms again.

Again?

Funny how Wes’s image was all that came to mind for artistic inspiration today. She’d started work on her male
creature to take her mind off Wes, and still found his face staring back at her from the dark, half-formed clay. Her heart ached with a wrenching sense of failure and loss ever since he’d walked out abruptly the moment Vanessa returned with the dogs.

Had she thwarted any chance of a future together by asking him to give her a little time?

“A year and a half.” Vanessa stared out one of the windows at the misty rain that seemed to have enveloped the city for nearly a week, her sleek, dark hair falling in a smooth curtain over her profile. Tall and slim, she had the kind of posture Tempest’s mother had failed to instill in her despite a considerable amount of effort. This woman possessed a natural poise and elegance that had always eluded Tempest. “He’s one of the best detectives assigned to the precinct.”

“He said his former partner died on the job.” Tem pest didn’t mean to pry, but figured it couldn’t hurt to open the doorway in case Vanessa cared to share any thing that would help her understand Wes better.

Not that it mattered now, when she’d already told him she wasn’t ready for a relationship. Regret pricked her, even as she knew her decision had been sound. Logical.

Painful.

“Wes
would
say that. He had a hard time believing Steve would do anything illegal.” Vanessa traced a raindrop sliding down the glass with her fingernail. “But most people think his partner died after transforming himself into the alter ego he used for a cover. He wasn’t as strong a cop as Wes—physically or mentally—and I think he suffered without his role model to keep him in line.”

Tempest’s fingers slid away from the wet clay, thinking how easily she could lose herself against the force of Wes’s personality as well. It would be hard not to lean on someone who seemed so capable.

“Wes deserves a stronger partner.” Tempest hoped Vanessa Torres provided that for him. The way Tempest figured, any woman who could single-handedly bring peace between Kong and Eloise possessed a fair amount of strength.

Vanessa peeled her attention away from the misty windowpane to meet Tempest’s gaze with clear green eyes. “He sure does. Do you think you’ve got what it takes?”

Somehow Tempest wasn’t surprised that Wes’s partner would have a flair for direct speech. She shook her head, determined to be honest with Vanessa—and her self. “Not yet. But I’m working on it.”

A ghost of a smile played over Vanessa’s lips, but be fore Tempest could be certain it had been there, it was gone again, her face a smooth mask with wise eyes. “Let me know if there’s any way I can help. Wes is a damn good guy—for a cop.”

Tempest wondered briefly what Vanessa had against the men on the force, but her most pressing concern now was how to make Wes understand all she wanted was a little more time.

Since he hadn’t listened to her, maybe this time she needed to
show
him she was serious. They could have a shot at a future if only he’d give her some more time to pull her life together. To find her own strength. “Actually, there
is
something you could do to help me.” She hoped Vanessa would go for it, but there was a very real chance she might shoot down the idea with out even hearing her out since it could be dangerous. “And at the same time, I’ll be helping you sew up your investigation all the sooner.”