Do Me Right

Do Me Right

Lisa G. Riley

Do Me Right Copyright © April 2010 by Lisa G. Riley All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions. eISBN 978-1-60737-553-1 Editor: Judith David Cover Artist: Marci Gass Printed in the United States of America

Published by Loose Id LLC PO Box 425960 San Francisco CA 94142-5960 www.loose-id.com This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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Chapter One ―Are you lying in our bed?‖ Sloan Johnson said into the telephone. He heard his fiancée sigh. Deeply. That sigh held a wealth of emotions—uncertainty, consternation, and need—and he heard every single one of them. Her need was plain to him, even from as far away as he was. He ran his fingers through his blond hair in frustrated need and lowered his voice. ―Baby, are you in the bed?‖ ―Yes.‖ Her response was so soft that he almost didn't hear it. But he heard rustling, and he knew those long brown legs of hers were moving restlessly against the sheets. They always did when she was ready to feel him between them. Which part of him didn't matter—penis, tongue, lips, or fingers; his baby was ready to be fucked. And when she wanted to come, she wanted to do it with his dick pulsing inside her. ―Are you on your back?‖ ―Yes.‖ ―Got the vibrator and the lubricant?‖ ―Yes.‖ She tried to hide it, but he heard her embarrassment and scaled back a bit. ―What are you wearing?‖ He wanted her naked but knew she wouldn't be. ―One of your shirts—your blue oxford. It smells like you…‖ She hesitated and then said softly, ―Sloan?‖ ―Yeah, baby?‖ ―I left it unbuttoned.‖ ―Perfect.‖ ―I've never done this before.‖ ―I know, and it's okay. There were a lot of things you hadn't done before you met me.‖ ―Yeah,‖ she said, and he knew that her lips were stretched in that shy smile he loved so much. ―I was a good girl before I met you. Now look at me—turned out like some street-corner hoochie.‖ ―You were a good girl with an open mind. Besides, you like it.‖ Another sigh. ―You know I do,‖ she admitted. Sloan smiled. He knew she'd be lowering her lashes over embarrassed but willing eyes. God, he missed her! ―I love you, baby.‖ ―I love you too.‖ ―Pull the pins out and let your hair down.‖ ―How do you know I have my hair up?‖

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―Because you always have it up. No. On second thought, leave it up and put your glasses on. That combination on you is sexy as hell.‖ ―I know you think so, and now the dining-room table knows you think so too.‖ Sloan groaned. The last time he'd caught her with her glasses on and her hair still in a bun, he'd cornered her against the table. ―You liked that too.‖ ―I did,‖ she confessed with a wistful sigh. ―I wish you could come home today and take me like that again.‖ Sloan shut his eyes for a second. Kendra didn't usually talk dirty, but her honest approach spoken plainly in that soft, concise tone of hers had his penis standing up at attention. ―I know. For now we'll make do.‖ ―But I don't know… I mean…‖ Sloan's blue eyes narrowed in concentration as he pictured her lying on her back, the shirt, a perfect contrast to her dark skin, spread beneath her as her nipples pointed toward the ceiling and her arousal began to drip from her vagina's pretty lips. ―Open your legs, baby.‖ ―They are open,‖ she whispered. ―They've been open.‖ Sloan's brows shot up. She was close. ―How wet are you?‖ ―Sloan!‖ The whisper was almost scandalized. Almost. ―As wet as when I first suck your clit into my mouth and love it with my tongue?‖ His words had her moaning in the back of her throat now. ―Or wetter, like when I—‖ ―I don't know, Sloan.‖ She whimpered, sounding like she was in pain. ―I don't know how much more of this I can take either. Darling, please. I wish you were here!‖ ―I want that too,‖ Sloan said and deliberately turned the heat up. ―I miss you. I miss feeling you moving beneath me while I bury my dick deep inside your body. I miss the feel of your arms wrapped tightly around my neck‖—he lowered his voice and continued—―the feel of your soft breath huffing against my skin while I take you fast to make you come, and those breathy little sounds you make just before it happens.‖ ―Oh God, Sloan!‖ ―Are you touching your clit yet?‖ ―Yes.‖ ―That's right, Kennie-girl. Touch it.‖ Sloan hurried past their doorman. Kendra thought he was still out of town in a hotel room in Manhattan. ―I need more, Sloan.‖ ―I know you do, baby. You know what to do. You know what you like.‖ He pressed the elevator button again. Damn it, where is that damn elevator? He loosened his tie more and placed his briefcase in front of his erection. He thought about taking the stairs, but they lived on the twenty-fifth floor. ―Sloan!‖ The cry was sexy and desperate enough to have him turning toward the stairwell. A ding signaled the elevator's arrival, and he walked into the car. . ―Hold that elevator!‖ a voice cried, and Sloan looked up to see one of his neighbors hobbling over slowly with the use of crutches. He looked at her, taking it all in. Laying his thumb on the Close button, he pressed it. Hard.

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As the doors swished closed, he said, ―Kendra? You still have the vibrator?‖ ―Yes.‖ ―Okay, turn it on.‖ He waited until he heard the low, insistent buzz before saying, ―Now imagine what I would be doing to you if I were there with you. What would I be doing right now, baby?‖ ―Licking and sucking my nipples.‖ ―Right. You love it when I suck your nipples against the roof of my mouth and bite and lick them. Take the vibrator and circle it around your nipple. Feel good?‖ he asked when she let out a long moan. ―Oh yes.‖ ―Now give the other one a turn. That's right, baby, work it,‖ he purred as her moan turned into little whimpers in the back of her throat. ―Now trail it slowly across your torso, down your stomach…‖ He closed his eyes and groaned himself, just imagining the muscles of her stomach jumping from the vibration. ―That's it. Take it over the top of your vagina, past your opening…‖ ―But, Sloan, I want to—‖ ―I know, but just listen,‖ he said, sweating profusely now. ―You know that really sensitive spot you have, right where your thigh meets your vagina? Put the vibrator there.‖ He had to pull the phone away from his ear when she started making those sharp little cries she usually made when he sucked her there. The elevator was taking its sweet time! He looked up at the panel. Twenty-four…twenty-five. ―Okay,‖ he said as he walked down the hall to their door and inserted his key into the lock. ―The vibrator is lubricated, yes?‖ ―Y-y-yes…‖ ―Good. Bend your knees, and push it in slowly. That's it, baby. It should slide right in,‖ he encouraged when she made halting, high-pitched, huffing sounds, each one more operatic than the last. He closed the door softly behind him, turned off his phone, put his briefcase down, and walked up the stairs and down the hall, stripping out of his jacket and tie as he went. He walked into their bedroom, and there she lay. Her eyes were closed, and her head thrashed about on the pillow while her upraised knees spread wide to give him a spectacular view as her toes dug desperately into the sheets while she rode the vibrator, still making those high-pitched sounds. The phone lay uselessly on the bed, and she gripped the sheets tightly with her other hand. He waited for her to sense his presence. It didn't take long. She opened her eyes and looked right at him. ―Sloan! You're home!‖ She pulled the vibrator out and held out her arms to him. He hurried over to the bed, undoing his belt and pants as he went. ―No condom this time,‖ he said as he lay between her knees and hungrily took her mouth. ―No, no condom,‖ she gasped in agreement as he filled her. She tightened her arms around his neck. ―Ahhh. I missed you!‖ ―I missed you too, sweetheart,‖ he said and thrust slowly into her, closing his eyes to savor the feel of her slick muscles squeezing him. ―It's been too fucking long since I was able to do this.‖ Making a sound of agreement in the back of her throat, she pushed her hips upward to receive more of him.

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―Just what the doctor ordered,‖ Sloan said with satisfaction before burying his hand in her hair, his fingers convulsively tangling in the strands as his other hand slowly worked her clit. He looked down at her. Her eyes were closed, her skin was flushed, and she had that infinitely suckable bottom lip of hers caught between her teeth. She was beautiful. ―I want you, Kennie-girl. I want you to open those sexy thighs of yours wide for me. Open them as wide as they will go and let me feel your clit, baby,‖ he said and waited. Her eyes flew open, and a bashful embarrassment filled them, even as his words made her hips jerk faster. ―Oh God, Sloan.‖ She moaned and closed her eyes. ―Talk to me,‖ he said softly and held still in her body, while at the same time grabbing her hips so she couldn't move. He watched as she opened her eyes again and looked warily up at him. ―Sloan? What are you doing?‖ ―Talk to me,‖ he repeated. ―Tell me what you want from me.‖ He loved for her to talk dirty. He fought back a twinge of disappointment when it looked like she wouldn't say anything. ―I want you to…‖ she began softly and licked her lips in nervousness. ―I want you to…to…‖ God, she was killing him. Sloan felt his dick twitch, and as hard as it was to do it, he kept himself from driving into her again. ―You want me to what?‖ ―I want you to…to…do me, baby. Do me hard. Do me right.‖ She barely finished her demand before he was plunging furiously inside her again. ―Oh yessss! I love you, Sloan. I love you…‖ she said and screamed as her orgasm pulsed through her. Sloan continued to thrust into her. ―I love you too,‖ he said just before he exploded into her.

*** Kendra forced herself to get out of bed, careful not to wake Sloan. After his being gone for almost three weeks, all she really wanted to do was lie beside him more. But she couldn't do that. There was too much to do and barely enough time to do it. She grabbed her robe from the end of the bed, shooting a final regretful look at his big, sexy body before leaving. Closing the door to the connecting bath behind her, she put the robe on the hook, still unable to believe that he'd gotten her to masturbate while he was on the phone. And then for him to walk in while she was doing it was just too much! ―God, I must have looked like…like… Well, I must have looked like what I was—hot and bothered,‖ she whispered with an embarrassed but pleased grin. She studied herself in the mirror and winced at how much fuller her face had gotten. She'd put on weight while Sloan had been gone, and wondered if he'd noticed it. ―Nerves,‖ she said as she pinched the bit of extra skin at her waist. Problems at work combined with Sloan's absence had had her eating more than she should have. ―No more fried okra,‖ she told herself sternly and absently as she turned from the wide mirror and walked across the large bathroom to the narrow column of built-in shelves to get some hairpins. As she pinned her hair up, she admitted that the buffalo-chicken strips and white chocolate-raspberry cheesecake had put on more calories than the short walk home after she had

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picked them up took off. ―Definitely not an equal trade-off,‖ she said as she stood in front of the mirror again. Still, she didn't think she looked too bad. Because she was short and had a small frame, any extra weight—including the two or three pounds she estimated she'd recently gained—showed immediately. She finished pinning her hair high up on her head and put on her shower cap. She stepped into the sunken tub and adjusted the showerheads to her satisfaction. There were four on the wall at varying heights, but this time she chose to use only one. As the powerful spray hit her body, she sighed in pure bliss. She loved the feel of water and found showers and baths to be just a flatout sensual experience. She smiled, thinking how the moaning made Sloan horny. And God help her if she used all the showerheads. He became a sexual madman. Many mornings they scrambled about trying to make it to work on time because of his water torture. Lathering her body with freesia-scented bath wash, Kendra thought about her relationship with Sloan. It was hard for her to believe that they'd known each other for almost four years. To this day, she still shivered when she thought about their first meeting and wondered how she'd gotten through it. She found it a bit difficult to remember the words they'd spoken. But she remembered perfectly how she'd felt. ―He made me feel alive,‖ she thought aloud as she rinsed herself off. No one had ever had that effect on her. She stepped out of the shower, hoping that the bliss would never end. ―Please, God, don't let what happened to Mom happen to me.‖

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Chapter Two Sloan slowly woke and stretched. He yawned expansively, his jaw cracking with the effort. ―Well, it's about time you joined the land of the living.‖ Kendra stood next to the bed. ―What time is it?‖ he asked. ―Time for all good little boys to get out of bed.‖ She bent to press a quick kiss on his mouth. Sloan remained reclined against the pillows as he studied her lazily. He wanted her out of that robe. Even as he thought the thought, her hands went to the belt at her waist and pulled the ends. Tight. His gaze went back to her face. It held a stern frown. ―Behave, Sloan.‖ ―You showered without me.‖ Suspicion rose as he started recognizing clues. Not only had she showered, she looked chipper and excited. Kendra never looked chipper or excited after sex—well satisfied and sleepy, yes. And if he was lucky, hopeful that he could go another round. But never excited. Usually she was curled up on his chest like a full, fat cat within minutes of her orgasm. Seconds, if she'd achieved the Holy Grail of lovemaking—multiples. But now she was full of energy. He studied her more. Her smooth skin was flushed from excitement, and her hair was already neatly done. Well, damn. She had something planned, and it obviously wasn't the hot, sweaty marathon sex sessions that he'd planned—that they always planned after being away from each other. Shit, after three weeks of going without, he needed those sessions. ―Kendra,‖ he said quietly, and again: ―You showered without me.‖ She brushed his hair off his forehead. ―I certainly did,‖ she said and sat down next to him. ―I had my reasons, so stop looking like I didn't just give you some less than half an hour ago!‖ ―Exactly—some. I need more,‖ he finished and reached for her. ―That's just too bad, because the vagi-gi store's closed, you big nympho!‖ Kendra tried to duck out of his reach and couldn't make it. ―Stop it, Sloan.‖ She laughed as he grabbed her arms and yanked her so that she was supine on the bed. ―You do know, don't you,‖ he began conversationally as he wrestled her beneath him, ―it is both physically and genetically impossible for me to be a nymphomaniac.‖ ―Well, I don't know the word for a male nympho, but that's what you are. As I was trying to say,‖ she emphasized as she grabbed his hair and pulled so that his face lifted from her neck, ―we don't have time for any marathon lovemaking right now.‖ ―No?‖ He loosed her hand from his hair, raised his body up, and gave the belt on her robe a hard yank so that it fell open. ―What do we have time for?‖ He watched her eyes closely when he lowered his body onto hers. Ah. Home sweet home. ―You missed it too, didn't you, Kennie-girl?‖

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he crooned. It was the name he used when they were making love or when he was trying to seduce her. Kendra's only response was a long, throaty moan when he smoothly entered her.

*** ―Hmm…get up, baby,‖ she commanded with a smile as she tried to catch her breath. ―We weren't supposed to make love again. And now we really don't have a lot of time.‖ Sloan stirred and gathered her close. ―Time for what?‖ Kendra tried to concentrate through the pleasure when he began sucking on her neck. ―Stop, honey,‖ she said weakly and pushed at his face. ―It's too hot for—Oh God…‖ She moaned when he transferred his mouth to her nipple. ―Too hot for turtle…‖ Sloan let the nipple slip from his mouth. ―What? Too hot for turtles?‖ ―Not turtles. Turtlenecks. It's too hot for turtlenecks.‖ Sloan frowned while she looked at him like he was mentally deficient. ―Okay,‖ he said slowly. ―And why are we talking about turtlenecks?‖ ―Because you were sucking on my neck.‖ Sloan stared at her for a few seconds, waiting for comprehension to take hold. It didn't. ―What?‖ Kendra sighed. ―You were sucking on my neck. I have to work. And I can't go to work with—‖ Sloan was nodding as he interrupted her. He rolled off her and stared at the ceiling. ―And you can't go to work with a hickey on your neck. Okay, I get it,‖ he said just before he burst into laughter. ―You're a nut, you know that? You are just a nut. Your thinking is so convoluted, it boggles the mind!‖ ―Well, it would have been much easier to explain if you hadn't been all over me like a heat rash. I couldn't think,‖ she protested as she wrapped the sheet around herself and sat up. Sloan stopped laughing long enough to look at her pouting face. ―I'm sorry,‖ he said with sincerity. ―I meant: Grade A. Certifiable…Nut.‖ He started laughing again when she hit him with a pillow. ―Keep it up, and you won't get your surprise.‖ Despite flying pillows, Sloan managed to pull her down again and throw a leg over both of hers. ―What surprise? Let me guess. Everything is all taken care of for our wedding, and we can spend the next seven weeks relaxing and making love.‖ Kendra's bark of laughter was unsympathetic. ―You wish. Kyle is back in town, and he's coming to stay with us. He'll be here in time for dinner.‖ Sloan stopped studying her hair long enough to look at her face. ―Is he?‖ ―Yes, he is. You'll get to play big brother again.‖ He slid off her to lie next to her again. ―When did this happen?‖ He hadn't heard from his younger brother in at least nine months. No one in the family had. Sloan wondered what kind of trouble he was in now. ―He called this morning, said he was back in town and wanted to come for dinner.‖ She sat up to lean over him. ―And maybe stay for a week or two.‖

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―This morning? Why didn't you tell me when I called?‖ She lifted a brow. ―I don't guess you remember this, but I was just a little too distracted at the time. Telling you my own name wasn't even possible.‖ Sloan smiled but remained quiet. ―Don't look so worried, baby,‖ she soothed and smoothed his frown lines with two fingers. ―Maybe he just wants to see us. It has been a long time.‖ ―Hmm?‖ Sloan looked at her again. ―Yeah. I know it's been a long time, and I know he wants to see us. He always wants to see us. That's not the issue. I want to see him too. What I don't want is to put up with any crap.‖ ―And Kyle knows that,‖ she reminded him gently. ―He's always known that.‖ ―Well, we'll find out when he gets here.‖ Determined that he wouldn't let it bother him, he ran a finger down Kendra's shoulder. ―So,‖ he began in a voice that was once again rough with desire. ―Let's see if I can make you forget your name again.‖ Kendra's mouth fell open. ―Are you serious? Good God, Sloan, we just finished!‖ He lifted a brow. ―And your point would be…?‖ ―The point is,‖ she began as she rolled away from him and left the bed to pull on her robe, ―I know it's been almost three weeks, but I'm not some hooker on the stroll. Hell, even if I were, I'd still need some kind of break between tricks.‖ Sloan looked at her as she stood by the bed with her hands on her hips and a smile of disbelief on her face. ―How much of a break?‖ ―A long one. Now get up, please. Your brother will be here in little more than an hour, and we haven't even started dinner.‖ She walked back to the bath and turned in the doorway to deliver one last parting shot. ―And use the spare bathroom for your shower, 'cause I'm not letting you anywhere near me in this one,‖ she finished with a wink and shut the door. ―Good move,‖ Sloan muttered when he heard the metallic turn of the lock. She knew him much too well. He thought about his brother again as he got out of bed and walked naked to the closet to grab fresh jeans and a shirt. His brother was the smartest of the three of them—their sister Amy, Kyle, and him—but he had never been able to stick to any one thing for very long. Kyle had graduated from high school a year early and had gotten through four years of college in two. He'd gone straight into the air force after that and then had been everything from a private detective to a wildcatter drilling for oil. His latest thing seemed to be gambling. Sloan tried not to worry about him, but ingrained habits were hard to break. He'd worried about his brother since they were five and two, respectively, and Kyle had cried when he wasn't allowed to follow him into his kindergarten classroom. ―Shit, Kyle,‖ he muttered. ―Just don't bring your mess to my door.‖

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Chapter Three ―Kyle's on his way up,‖ Kendra announced as she reentered the kitchen after having answered the concierge's call. She went back to slicing carrots, smiling at the noncommittal sound Sloan made. ―My mom was going to come for dinner tomorrow,‖ she said as she bit into a carrot slice. ―But she had to cancel.‖ Sloan looked over at her from where he was mixing a dressing for the salad. The comment had been way too casual, so he waited for the other shoe to drop. Kendra's mother didn't like him. It didn't bother him as much as it could have, but he wouldn't pretend that he was disappointed that he wouldn't have to put up with her disapproval at dinner the next night. ―Uhhuh. What else?‖ ―Uh…well.‖ Kendra stalled as she sliced another carrot for the salad. ―I knew you'd be disappointed, so I told her we'd have lunch with her next Sunday.‖ She laughed when he groaned out loud. ―Oh, come on, Sloan. You've got seven whole days to get used to the idea, and besides, it'll just be for a couple of hours.‖ ―Your mother doesn't like me, Ken. Why should I put us both through a miserable lunch where we'll both have to pretend that she does?‖ He studied Kendra's neat appearance in simple jeans and a white blouse, and without a hair out of place. He, dressed quite similarly in jeans and a T-shirt, looked exactly like what he was: a man who wasn't too happy about being pulled out of bed. Kendra frowned and dumped more slices into the bowl. ―Please, baby. You have to come. You don't see me ducking and hiding when your parents want to spend time with us.‖ Sloan snorted and continued to look at her, amazed at how quickly she could go back to looking so calm and cool after lovemaking—lovemaking that always threatened to burn him to a crisp. She lifted her head to look at him, and he smiled in satisfaction before picking up the conversation again. Her eyes weren't able to hide the heat. ―That's because my family loves you. Hell, sometimes I think that they like you even more than they do me. Your mother, on the other hand, can't stand the sight of me.‖ She wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head on his chest. Breathing deeply, she rubbed her cheek against the soft material of his shirt. ―I know she's not the easiest person to get along with, honey, and I'm sorry. You just have to grow on her. It's taking Mom a little long to get used to you; that's all—‖ ―It's been four years, Ken, and I'm pretty much an open book for anyone who's interested in getting to know me. Your mother isn't interested. And that's fine, but at this point it isn't about liking me. She hasn't bothered to get to know me well enough to know if she likes me or not.‖ Sloan recognized her next move. Automatically trying to soothe, Kendra absently slipped her hands under his shirt and began rubbing his back. She sighed heavily. ―Please don't take it personally. She'll probably always be bitter about my father's leaving, and she'll never trust any

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man. You're right, I know, and I'm sorry that she's so difficult and that she takes it out on you. But she's my mother, Sloan, and I love her. I can't keep her out of my life.‖ ―I never asked you to, Ken, and I never would ask that of you. All I'm saying is that given her feelings toward me, your mother and I shouldn't have to deal with one another unless it's absolutely necessary.‖ Kendra sighed again. ―I know you're right, of course. You'd never ask me to choose, and I appreciate that, especially since I sometimes feel split between you. I just wish things could be different somehow.‖ Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he held her closer. ―For your sake, I wish they could too.‖ ―Oh well.‖ She kissed his chin and released him and, with a shrug, went back to her carrots. ―You know what they say. If wishes were horses, et cetera, et cetera…‖ Turning again with a crooked smile, she picked up her last carrot. Sloan looked at her slumping shoulders and bent neck. She was the picture of dejection. Goddamn it. ―Shit,‖ he said softly but vehemently, wishing he could resist her, even just a little bit. Startled, Kendra whipped back around to look at him in concern. ―What? What's the matter?‖ ―Damn it. I'll go to the damn lunch if it means that damn much to you,‖ he muttered. He wanted to bite his tongue off. Kendra smiled sympathetically. For all the rough exterior that he tried to project, he was really just a softie—especially when it came to her. She knew it too, and she tried never to take advantage of it. ―Well, damn, Sloan. Are you damned sure?‖ He winced as if he really were in pain. She melted. ―Oh, sweetie, you don't have to go. I wasn't trying to make you feel guilty. For real,‖ she added when he allowed pure suspicion to flash in his eyes. She held up her hand, palm out like a good Girl Scout. ―Honest.‖ Pure earnestness and honesty showed on her face. Only pure disgust showed on his. Kendra broke into hysterics. ―I swear, sweet pea,‖ she managed to promise before she bent at the waist and convulsed into giggles. Not completely happy that she could turn him into two hundred pounds of mush, Sloan walked over and yanked on her ear. ―Brat,‖ he muttered and pulled her into his arms again. ―Ow!‖ Kendra was still laughing, but now she put a hand protectively over her ear. As her laughter petered out, she smiled up at him and twined her arms around his neck. ―That may be true, but I'm an honest brat. I really wasn't trying to make you feel guilty. However, since you're such a generous soul, I don't see anything wrong with a little payback. I'll make your sacrifice worth your while.‖ ―Will you? How?‖ ―If you can sit through this lunch with Mom, I'll shower with you for a whole week.‖ Sloan was quiet for a moment as he considered it. ―Hmm. I don't know. I'm thinking,‖ he told her when she sighed impatiently. ―You'll let me bring in the vibrator?‖

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―The vi—‖ Kendra ended her objection when he raised a brow. ―Okay, you can bring in the vibrator.‖ ―And I can take as long a time with your body as I want.‖ ―Well, I don't know about that. I can't be late for work.‖ ―That's the deal breaker, Ken.‖ ―But I—‖ ―Watch my lips: Deal. Breaker.‖ ―But—‖ ―Take it or leave it.‖ She pouted. ―Fine, it's a deal. But I hardly think it's fair,‖ she grumbled playfully between the kisses he was pressing on her mouth. ―All you have to do is put up with two hours of my mother's company—and get a free lunch out of it, I might add—while I have to take the chance of being late for work. Some of us don't always have the luxury of working from home, you know.‖ ―Who says the showers have to be in the morning?‖ Sloan said softly as he nibbled at her lips. ―Besides, we'll pay for lunch. And you can always quit your job.‖ He tried to ignore her stiffening. ―I know you don't really like working at L and H. Hell, I hated it too when I worked there. I'm doing well enough so that you can stay home and write your poetry, draw your pictures, and raise our babies,‖ he suggested as his mouth found her neck. ―You can even go back to school for that creative-writing program like you've been saying you want to do. I've told you that a hundred times.‖ ―Oh, whatever,‖ Kendra said as she pushed out of his arms. ―You know good and well that I'm not going to quit my job, which I like just fine, thank you very much.‖ Sloan just looked at her, letting her know that he wasn't amused. He'd heard the strain in her voice, and he knew the reason why she'd stiffened in his arms. He continued his silence a moment and just looked in her eyes—eyes that seemed to be pleading with him to drop the subject. Sloan decided to do just that. Now was not the time to argue with her about her lack of trust in him. Besides, what good would it do? They'd had this argument before. He sighed. ―It's just an option that you know you have; that's all I'm saying.‖ Kendra released a breath and nodded. ―Thank you,‖ she said, and they both knew that it was for more than his offer. She gave him a friendly kiss, which he immediately took to another level. As she returned his kiss, Kendra thought about how she'd just dodged a bullet. They both knew why she'd never quit her job. Because she'd be ass out if he ever left her. But he never will. She tried to believe it. He's not my father. He won't leave and never come back. ―And to add a caveat‖—Sloan said as he broke off the kiss—―your mother needs to be on her best behavior. No snide, bitchy comments.‖ Kendra laughed and stood on her toes to peck him on the mouth one last time. ―Aw, poor baby. Now, you know I can't promise you that.‖ She slipped out of his arms when the doorbell rang. ―It's about time your brother got here. It's been a while since Theresa called to let us know he's here. I'll bet one of the elevators is acting up again.‖ Sloan followed her from the kitchen and entered the living room just as she opened the door to Kyle. He smiled when Kyle picked Kendra up and spun her around. His brother looked

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good, if a little tired. But he always looked tired, and Sloan tried to let the thought go. At least he didn't look malnourished and worn down like he had the last time he'd visited. In fact, he looked healthy. Thank God, Sloan thought before stepping forward to embrace his brother in a bear hug. ―Kyle, it's about time you brought your skinny butt home to family,‖ he said. ―It's been too long.‖ Kyle hugged him back. ―Hey, Bro, I didn't expect to see you until tomorrow.‖ Sloan released him and reached around him to shut the door. ―I got in a day early. I wanted to surprise Kendra.‖ ―Well, shoot,‖ Kyle joked. ―That just means I have less time alone with my favorite sisterin-law.‖ Kendra snorted. ―I'm not your sister-in-law yet, and when I am, I'll be your only one. It's easy to call me your favorite.‖ ―Semantics,‖ Kyle dismissed with a smile as he put his arm around her shoulders. ―So, favorite, what's for dinner? I don't smell anything cooking.‖ He took his jacket off and hung it on a wooden coatrack that stood near the archway separating the living room from the entryway. ―I've got some chicken breasts thawing out, and we'll have wild rice, asparagus, French bread, and a salad,‖ Kendra said as she positioned herself on the love seat across from his chair. ―Sloan made a dressing.‖ ―Did you say the chicken is thawing?‖ ―I'm going to go check on it now,‖ Sloan said over his shoulder. ―It shouldn't take much longer,‖ Kendra told Kyle, ―and then I'll bake it. We should be eating in about forty-five minutes.‖ ―Got anything to tide me over until then?‖ Kyle asked hopefully. ―I'm starved.‖ Sloan laughed from the kitchen, not at all surprised. ―We figured you might be. I'm bringing out the tray of cheese and crackers.‖ ―Great,‖ Kyle called back. ―Now tell me, favorite, how do you always manage to look so beautiful? And why the hell don't you have a sister I can hook up with? What about a cousin?‖ ―I've got plenty of cousins, all of whom you'll stay away from. I don't want to have to hurt you for breaking one of their hearts. Besides, lucky for you, they're all married.‖ ―Ouch.‖ Kyle sounded wounded. ―All kidding aside, Kyle, when are you going to settle down in one place and start to take better care of yourself?‖ ―Come on, now, little sister. Don't I look good now?‖ He held his arms out wide. She shook her head at Kyle. ―Of course you do, idiot. You look just like my Sloan. However,‖ she continued when he twisted his mouth and playfully rolled his eyes, ―that doesn't keep me from worrying about you. How's the gambling?‖ ―I know my gambling bothers you, and I appreciate your not making a big deal out of it. At any rate, it's going well. Thanks for asking, sweetness. How's the advertising business?‖ ―Great,‖ Kendra said. ―So great that I have a breakfast meeting tomorrow.‖ ―You have a meeting on a Saturday?‖ ―Yes, on a Saturday. The client's in town for the weekend and wants to meet with the team. That's why I took half of today off.‖

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―You didn't take the whole day?‖ ―No. She's too straitlaced for that,‖ Sloan said as he placed a tray on the table. He sat next to Kendra and handed out the bottles of beer he'd brought. ―The little chicken came home before lunch.‖ ―Well,‖ Kendra bristled in protest. ―Fair is fair. They're not keeping me all day tomorrow, and I'm getting a free breakfast out of it,‖ she defended her ethics when they only laughed harder. ―Yeah, a free breakfast, which I'm sure will make up for having to get out of bed at six on a Saturday morning after having worked late every night the week before,‖ Sloan chided. ―That's real fair.‖ ―Well, still,‖ Kendra protested weakly. ―It's lucky for you I did it this way. Otherwise your little surprise would have been ruined,‖ she finished with a lift of her chin. Interested now, Kyle leaned forward in his chair. ―What surprise?‖ ―You remember how I said that I came home early to surprise Kendra?‖ Sloan began with a wicked glint in his eyes. ―Well, before I left for the trip, I bought her a little—‖ ―Ow! Hey!‖ he objected when she elbowed him sharply in the stomach. ―As I was saying‖—he continued laughing as he struggled with her to keep her from covering his mouth— ―I bought her a little something, and I'd been trying to get her to use this little…something…for the whole three weeks I was gone, but she just wouldn't—mph—‖ Having finally succeeded in getting her hand over his mouth, Kendra pressed hard. When he licked her palm, all dignity was lost. She stiffened in instant arousal, and her voice, when she spoke, had softened helplessly. ―I can't believe you're trying to tell.‖ Recognizing the state she was in, Sloan slowly moved her hand away, squeezing it in promise before releasing it. He grinned when she closed her hand, knowing she'd done it to hold on to the sensation from his tongue. ―Why'd you start the story if you didn't want to tell the whole thing? You're the one who brought it up.‖ There was a long pause in which Sloan's grin dimmed a bit as heat rushed through his body. Kendra looked like she always did when she was ready to make love to him. Damn! I should have kept my fucking tongue to myself, Sloan thought, right after he reminded himself that he could not strip her bare and have his way with her. He cleared his suddenly dry throat and tried to get her attention again. ―Uh, Ken? Baby?‖ Kendra's smile was so smug that he knew he'd been had. She took a swallow of her beer and had him gulping in reaction. ―I only hinted at the story,‖ she said. ―I was hoping that it would shame you into shutting up. But I don't know how I could have forgotten that there's not a shameless bone in your entire body.‖ ―I don't know either,‖ Sloan agreed. ―Can I finish the story?‖ ―If you do, don't expect to ever have another day like the one you had today,‖ she cautioned before standing. ―I'm going to work on dinner. I'll leave you two to your juvenile imaginations.‖ ―They'll be right here waiting for you when you get back,‖ Sloan retorted. ―You just remember what I said, Blondie.‖ The warning was tossed lightly over her shoulder as she made her way through the dining room and into the kitchen. Kyle shook his head at their shenanigans. ―Why do you tease her?‖

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―Because she just makes it so damned easy.‖ ―So why were you gone for three weeks?‖ ―I had a case in New York for one of my big clients. It's one of the costs of heading my own law firm. The client wanted the man in charge, so he got the man in charge.‖ Sloan had been one of many lawyers at L and H, but had left the advertising firm soon after he and Kendra met there. ―How'd you do?‖ ―Oh, pretty well. We won.‖ He took a sip of beer. ―But enough about me. What's going on with you?‖ ―Well, that was a smooth segue.‖ ―It's a gift. Stop stalling and tell me what's going on, will you?‖ Kyle leaned forward in his chair again and he eagerly explained. ―I've come up with this idea for a computer chip—one that will make computers run even faster than they do now. Right now there are a couple of big guys on top of the heap, but I plan to give them a run for their money. I won't go into all of the mechanics behind it, but what I'm going to do is—‖ He cut himself off and laughed. ―Your eyes have already started to glaze over. You never did understand computers, did you?‖ ―Only enough to type up reports and do research. That's all I need to know. But go ahead, finish telling me,‖ Sloan encouraged. ―I won't bore you with the details,‖ Kyle continued. ―But let's just say that this idea is my best one yet. I could probably settle down with this one.‖ ―Really?‖ Sloan was thrilled to hear it, and he believed Kyle. He'd learned long ago not to underestimate his brother, because he was brilliant and constantly surprising people. And despite his refusal to live a life of normalcy, Kyle was actually quite dependable. ―So this means no more gambling?‖ The last time the family had seen him, Kyle had just come from a weeklong poker tournament. He'd told them that he'd spent almost every waking moment playing the game, barely taking the time to eat. He'd also lost all of his money. Sloan and Kendra had given him a loan to get him back on his feet. He'd paid them back within a couple of weeks with a check he'd sent from Las Vegas, which was the only way they'd known that he was okay and where he was. ―Maybe.‖ Kyle's shrug was philosophic. ―I don't just gamble because I need the money, Sloan. I hate to tell you this, but I enjoy it. Call it my vice if you want.‖ Sloan snorted out a laugh. ―Yeah, one among many.‖ ―Hey. The women love me, and I don't like to deprive them. Anyway, I still gamble because I still like it.‖ Sloan didn't argue. ―All right. So tell me more about your idea. Will it make you rich?‖ ―Absolutely. If all goes as planned, it will definitely make me rich.‖ ―Want some financing from your brother?‖ ―Nope,‖ Kyle said proudly. ―Got that all taken care of.‖ Sloan leaned forward. ―You don't understand, Kyle. I wasn't asking you if you needed financing. I was asking if I could be in on it. I want a piece of it.‖ ―You actually want to give me money?‖

Do Me Right

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Sloan just looked at him. ―Ken?‖ he called. ―Honey, can you come in here for a second?‖ ―Dinner's almost ready,‖ Kendra said as she walked back into the room and sat down next to Sloan. ―What's up?‖ ―Kyle has a plan to put Intel out of business. He's got an idea for a new, faster computer chip. I want us to be in on the ground floor. What do you think?‖ ―It doesn't matter,‖ Kyle interrupted, ―because I'm not going to take your money. I have meetings this week with potential investors here in Chicago.‖ ―Really?‖ Kendra asked. ―Who are they?‖ ―A couple of venture capitalists—Casey Reed Group and Diamond in the Rough.‖ ―Hmm,‖ Kendra said thoughtfully with a nod of her head. ―That's impressive. I'll need to hear more about it over dinner, but I think we can swing a small investment.‖ Kyle looked at Sloan, who raised a brow and said, ―She's the boss.‖

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Chapter Four ―Sloan? Sweetheart? I think we can invest at least thirty in Kyle's idea.‖ Sloan looked over at her from his position by the bathroom door. She was already in bed, sitting up surrounded by pillows with her back against the headboard and her knees upraised. She had their investment portfolio and bank ledgers in her lap. He shook his head. She was never one to let grass grow under her feet. ―Thirty dollars? That's all?‖ Kendra looked up, saw he was teasing, and smiled in return. She looked down at her papers. ―Ha ha. You know I mean thirty thousand, you adorable idiot. Maybe a little more, but with the wedding coming up and our wanting to buy a new house next year, I don't want to get too greedy.‖ Her gaze had lingered hotly on his chest for a moment, and always attuned to her moods, Sloan cleared his throat, grinning when she caught his eye and gave him an embarrassed grin. He took the towel from around his waist and tossed it onto the bathroom floor. When he heard her sound of disgust, he sighed, picked up the towel, and tossed it into the hamper. He got into bed, deciding he'd give her a few minutes with the finances before he started seducing her. ―I thought we were in the all-clear for the wedding. We've already budgeted for it,‖ he reminded her as he studied her thick hair. ―We have,‖ Kendra assured him. ―But stuff happens, you know? We have to be ready for any little catastrophes,‖ she finished and absentmindedly pushed his hand away from her neck. He'd started playing with the fine hairs there, and it was already distracting her. ―What little catastrophes?‖ ―I don't know… Okay, for instance, we still haven't chosen a cake yet. Depending on which one we choose, the budget could need to be expanded by as much as fifteen hundred.‖ Sloan stopped his hand on its way back to her hair. He grinned because he knew talk of the cake would irritate her. The issue had been going on for weeks now. ―Hey, can I help it if I'm picky about my pastries? Chocolate mint, white-chocolate-mousse torte. What's a man to do?‖ ―Chocolate mi—‖ Kendra began in disbelief. He knew just what buttons to push. ―Whatever, Sloan,‖ she said in studied nonchalance as she looked back down at the portfolio. ―All I know is that I'd better not have a wedding cake that tastes like a Girl Scout cookie.‖ ―You just might,‖ he told her and let his hand finish its return to her hair. ―And there's no sense in getting mad at me. You're the one who made the deal. You agreed that I would choose the cake all by myself. You agreed when I agreed to let you increase the budget by ten percent.‖ She pouted a bit and knocked his hand away again. ―You only came up with the idea because you knew it would annoy me not to have anything to do with picking it.‖ She looked at him, daring him to deny it. He didn't.

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―Sloan.‖ ―Kendra,‖ he mimicked her irritated, plaintive tone in a high-pitched voice. ―It isn't fair. I agreed before I remembered that when it comes to sweets, you have the taste buds of a ten-year-old.‖ ―Yep, sure do,‖ he confirmed unashamedly as he rubbed her thigh. ―And right now you have the temperament of one.‖ He laughed when she scowled at him. ―All right, all right.‖ He continued caressing her soft skin. ―Is everything else cool? Church, priest, flowers, caterer, reception hall?‖ He asked because the wedding planning had been so stressful in the beginning. They'd had to get a hold on things and quickly, because the planning had started interfering in other parts of their lives. It was true that she took the lead, but he was still involved quite a bit. Kendra continued to scowl, perhaps trying to hold on to her irritation about the cake. But excitement seemed to get the best of her. ―Check, check, check, and check! And it's not just a reception hall; it's the South Shore Cultural Center, one of the most beautiful sites in the city,‖ she reminded him. Her legs automatically opened when he moved his fingers to stroke her inner thigh. ―But yes, we can put a check in the column for that too. It's all confirmed.‖ ―Uh hm.‖ Sloan watched her pulse kick up beneath the skin of her throat. He caressed her some more. ―Good, and don't you worry about the cake. It's all covered. You'll be happy to know that I've decided against the peanut butter one.‖ Kendra couldn't be baited this time and locked her thighs together in defense, which only challenged him to do more. When it came to the discussion of money, she liked to have all her wits about her. He knew that if she weren't so horny for him, she would. ―Well, will wonders never cease?‖ she mumbled sarcastically between shortened breaths. ―Ah…let's get back to Kyle's money. Do you think thirty thousand is too much?‖ ―No, not if you say we've got it to spare.‖ Sloan refrained from telling her that she had a funny way of distrusting him. She didn't trust him not to leave her, yet they shared an investment portfolio and bank accounts. ―But you're forgetting one thing. He didn't say he'd let us invest. He may get everything he needs from those venture capitalists.‖ He doubled back with his fingers to circle her knee. Kendra dismissed that notion with a wave of her hand. ―He wants to build a start-up; he can't afford to turn down money.‖ ―Yes, he can, and he just might. But let's forget about Kyle for a minute.‖ He paused in his ministrations so he could think clearly. He couldn't help but grin when she let out a shuddering breath that managed to sound both disappointed and relieved. ―I've been thinking about our moving and buying a new house. I think we should stay here a few more years. We've got plenty of room, we both like the area so much, and we own the joint. We should let it appreciate some more. And maybe in a few years, we can buy one of those stately old town houses or brownstones in the area. What do you think?‖ Kendra stared at him as she contemplated his words. They had a plan, which was to wait a year after their marriage to start having children, and naturally they'd move to a bigger place when she got pregnant. But he was right. A three-bedroom apartment was more than big enough to start out with. They lived on the Gold Coast, one of Chicago's most expensive and safest neighborhoods. They'd gotten their apartment for a relatively cheap price, considering the area. The real-estate agent had let it slip that the previous owner, a bitter wife who had won it in the

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divorce, was selling it for less than market value to spite her ex-husband, who'd housed his mistresses in it over the years. ―Well? What do you think?‖ Sloan repeated. ―I think I love you, that's what I think!‖ she said excitedly and grabbed his face to plant a sloppy kiss on his mouth. ―That's a great idea. If we wait to sell it and it appreciates, we could trade up. Put that way, it does make sense to keep the apartment for a few more years.‖ ―Exactly. We got such a good deal on it, and I'd hate to lose our advantage by moving so quickly. And once we get that bigger house, not only could we fill it with babies but maybe by then we'll have found a dog that you aren't allergic to.‖ ―Oh,‖ Kendra cooed and patted his cheek. ―I hope so, especially since you love animals so much. But don't try to distract me with guilt. Just how many babies are we talking about?‖ Sloan grinned. ―Let's just say that the more we try, the happier I'll be.‖ She chuckled. ―You look like a total lech.‖ ―That's handy, as I'm feeling totally lecherous!‖ With a dramatic roll of his eyes, he playfully hooked an arm around her chest and pulled her back so that he hovered over her. ―Ah!‖ Kendra feigned fear and struggled to sit up. ―Unhand me, you sex fiend!‖ ―For now, my pretty, for now. But later…you're all mine!‖ Still laughing, Kendra straightened her gown. ―Anyway, I want to ask you something. You think maybe since we aren't moving, we should invest more money with Kyle?‖ Sloan lifted a brow. ―No, let's keep it at thirty, and that's only if he'll let us invest. Why are you so anxious to invest in this?‖ Kendra shrugged. ―It's really more of an investment in him, Sloan. But I do think it's a good idea, and that we'd get a huge return on it.‖ ―Yeah, I guess the kid's worth a few grand.‖ ―Of course he is. He's so excited about it, and he's so smart, you just know it's going to work. I really believe him when he says things are different. Don't you?‖ ―Yes, I do, and that's why I suggested we invest.‖ ―I know, and I already told him that I'd like to see a business plan and that we'd let our broker take a look too. I also told him that we needed to see everything he'd be showing those venture capitalists to get their money.‖ ―And here I was thinking that you'd gone soft.‖ Sloan buried his nose in her fragrant hair and went back to tracing invisible patterns on her inner thigh. ―Not on your life. We're family, but he needs to treat us like any other potential investor, ― she told him. She hunched her shoulder when he started licking behind her ear. ―Why didn't you go out with him tonight, by the way? Too tired?‖ ―Yeah. And he was meeting up with some friends I don't know very well. And most importantly, I missed my fiancée.‖ He pushed the papers and ledgers off her lap so they landed on the floor. Tired of the tease, he was now ready to go full throttle. ―Uh-huh,‖ Kendra said skeptically. She bit back a moan when he made his way to the outline of her panties. Her fingers tightened on his shoulders. ―What you really missed was your fiancée's punani,‖ she said breathlessly as she opened her legs to accommodate him when he levered his torso over her. ―Don't deny it. That's what kept you home tonight.‖

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Sloan lifted his head from the breast he'd started teasing through the silk of her nightgown. ―Why, Kendra, I'm crushed that you could even think that of me.‖ She only snorted and rolled her eyes before pulling his head up for a desperate kiss. Her need had risen quickly, and she held nothing back as she devoured his mouth, sucking his tongue and nipping at his lips. She lifted his head from hers and waited. Sloan stared at her. ―Okay, so I lied,‖ he said when he'd caught his breath, making her laugh. ―And since the truth has set me free, I might as well see if our girl here missed me just as much.‖ He rubbed his fingers across her already wet labia, while at the same time closing his mouth around an eager nipple. Her laughter stopped immediately, along with her ability to speak.

*** Kendra stirred her tea some more, took a deep breath, and picked up the kitchen phone to dial her mother's number. ―Morning, Mom,‖ she said. ―Hi, honey,‖ Camille Masters said cheerfully. ―You're up early for a Saturday.‖ ―Yeah, I have that breakfast meeting, remember?‖ ―Oh, that's right. So we can't talk too long, then. Has—‖ ―Yes, Mom, Sloan has made it home,‖ Kendra cut her off impatiently before she could ask her favorite question. ―He surprised me yesterday.‖ ―Watch your tone. I'm still your mother, no matter how grown you are.‖ Kendra sighed, rolled her eyes, and tried to make a joke of it. ―Well, that's a fact I'm probably not ever going to forget, you know.‖ ―And don't think I don't know you're rolling your eyes either, young lady,‖ Camille warned. ―God, Mom, will you stop?‖ Fed up with her mother's efforts to control everything, she said, ―Yes, I am rolling my eyes because almost every day that Sloan was gone, you called me with the same question, and got the same answer each time, but you asked it anyway. I just want you to stop doing it; that's all. Sloan isn't Dad.‖ ―I just asked a question, Kendra. I didn't say anything about your father. You're always seeing hidden meaning in things when there isn't any. Besides, he was gone for almost three weeks. That's an awful long time for a business trip. I just worry about you,‖ Camille said. ―The last thing I want is for what happened to me to happen to you. It's a horrible feeling when a man you thought loved you just up and leaves you.‖ Kendra fought back a sigh. Where to begin? ―I know you love me, and I know you worry about me, but there's no reason to. Sloan is a good man, and he just happens to go away on business. That's perfectly normal. And the reason he was gone so long was because he was trying to wrap up a big case. He's not like Dad, but you always try to make it seem like he is. I know you mean well, but why can't you just be happy for me that I've found someone?‖ There was dead silence on the other end of the phone. Knowing it was designed to make her feel guilty and uncomfortable, Kendra tried very hard not to feel either. Her mother just didn't trust men. She hadn't since Cedric Masters had left them. Kendra knew her mother thought she was protecting her from what she believed was the inevitable, but Kendra couldn't help but wish Camille would just let go of that particular baggage. It had been twenty years, after all,

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since Cedric had gone. Kendra sighed again. The relationship between her mother and her clearly wasn't as healthy as it could be. When Kendra finally spoke, it was only to push the conversation along. Time was precious, and she didn't have it to waste. ―Mom? You still there?‖ she said as she added more honey to her tea. Camille's voice was stifled, as if she was crying, when she said, ―I don't know why you don't believe that I want you to be happy, Kendra. I do. All I'm saying is that Sloan takes an awful lot of trips. I feel like a criminal because I make a simple observation. You act like I deserve your disrespect. I wasn't a bad mother. I mean, really, I was parent of the year compared to your father. I did the best I could.‖ ―Oh-kaaay. Um, I don't know how we got on this subject, but since we have, I'll just say that I know you did.‖ ―Well, I certainly don't appreciate this sarcasm, young lady. I loved you fiercely, didn't abuse you, and you had everything you needed, which is more than can be said for a lot of kids.‖ Kendra closed her eyes and silently counted to twenty. This particular conversation was so familiar and so tiring that she wanted to scream. In her head, she pictured her mother sitting on her bed in silk pajamas. Her small frame would be curled in a lotus position and her dark, almost flawless skin would be covered in a facial mask, while her thick, processed hair would flow prettily around her narrow shoulders. I can only hope I look half as good when I'm her age. Her mother was a smart, beautiful woman who had a lot to offer, yet she hadn't been with a man in twenty years because she couldn't let go of the past. It was just sad. Kendra sighed and answered her mother's soft accusation. ―Okay, but I certainly feel abused right now.‖ Camille was silent before saying, ―I know I shouldn't have, but I spoiled you rotten. I gave you everything. You had dancing lessons, gymnastics, designer clothes—‖ ―I know, Mom.‖ Kendra cut her off in a tired voice as she reached up to adjust the tight bun resting at the back of her head. ―And I thank you for all of those things…really.‖ She sighed again, so tired now, she could feel it in her bones. ―I'm sorry, but I really don't have time for this—‖ As if Kendra had said nothing, Camille continued, ―I didn't have any of those things when I was a kid. And what about your sixth birthday party? It was the sweetest, most precious party a little girl could ask for. We even had pony rides, for Christ's sake!‖ Kendra lowered her arm. Well, here we go again. Anyone overhearing the conversation would think that maybe Camille had been drinking, the way her language had suddenly deteriorated, her voice rose, and she jumped subjects. Unfortunately they'd be wrong. She was not a drunk. Kendra would rather she were one. A drunk would be easier to deal with than this constant pessimism, need for reassurance, and passive-aggressive badgering. ―Please, Mom, let's not discuss that party, okay?‖ ―It wasn't all bad, Kendra. There were some good things that happened that day. You do have some good memories.‖ When Kendra remained silent, Camille admitted softly, ―I know I shouldn't have left you to go after your father that day, baby. You have no idea how much I've regretted that. But I wasn't myself then. I wasn't the woman I am today, and because I wasn't, I thought I needed your father. That was a mistake.‖

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―I know, Mom.‖ Kendra leaned tiredly against the counter. ―I know.‖ Camille constantly brought up that particular party because she felt such guilt. She'd left Kendra alone with a roomful of people neither of them really knew, but not before yelling at her when Kendra had innocently asked where she was going. ―Yes, I know you do. I know an apology isn't nearly enough for what I did that day, but I am sorry. I wish I could apologize for your father, but I can't. He should be here to do that. But anyway, I just hope that Sloan isn't—‖ ―Mom, please don't. Don't attack Sloan. Stop comparing him to Dad. It isn't fair.‖ ―Your Sloan leaves you an awful lot, just like your daddy used to do me.‖ ―Yes, but there's a difference, Mom. Sloan leaves for business. Dad just used to leave. He'd try to make himself sound cool by telling us that he had traveling feet. But he was a bum. That's just one difference. The major difference is that Sloan comes back when he says he will. Daddy wouldn't come back for months at a time. He abandoned us constantly. Please stop comparing them. Not every man is like Dad. Promise me you'll stop.‖ There was no response. Kendra ignored her silence. ―Listen,‖ she said as she looked around the kitchen. She frowned. She'd forgotten one of her files. ―I have to go. I'm still not quite ready to leave yet. I called to tell you that we're on for lunch in two weeks. Okay?‖ ―Fine, Kendra. How about Bistro 110 at one?‖ ―That sounds good. I'll tell Sloan, thanks. Bye, Mom.‖ ―Bye, honey. I love you. You know that, don't you?‖ ―Yes, I know. I love you too.‖ Kendra clicked off, knowing that they'd solved nothing and that the potential for having the same conversation again was ridiculously huge. She'd meant the phone call to be a preemptive one. Her mother always called her when Sloan was out of town to remind her in some way that Sloan was out of town and perhaps not coming back. Kendra hated the phone calls. They really only reminded her that Sloan could just leave her at any time. She sometimes wondered if she should stop putting her mother's feelings ahead of her own. Sloan was always telling her that she should. She was reminded of one particular time when he'd come home from a trip to find her upset after a particularly grinding conversation with her mother.

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Chapter Five Kendra leaned back against the counter again and sipped more of her tea and closed her eyes as she remembered that incident. She'd been in the kitchen then too, and had barely hung up the phone before she heard Sloan's key in the lock. She didn't like to overwhelm him with her problems, but she'd met him at the door. Sloan had caught her with one arm when she leaped onto him and flung her arms around his neck. He had laughed and dropped his bags so he could hold her close with both arms. ―I just have one question. Did you miss me?‖ he'd asked before kissing her. ―God, Sloan,‖ she'd said. ―It's not funny. I really did miss you.‖ Even though her voice had been muffled because her mouth was pressed against his neck, he must have heard the strain. ―Hey,‖ he'd said, leaning back so he could see her face. ―What's the matter?‖ Flustered, Kendra had lifted her head and smiled. ―Nothing now,‖ she'd said and used his shoulders as leverage to boost herself up farther and wrap her legs around him. ―I missed you; that's all. I missed you a lot.‖ She'd bent her head to kiss him. ―I missed you too,‖ he'd said against her mouth and between kisses. He had walked them into the living room and, with a little help from her, shrugged out of his suit coat as he went. He had lowered her onto the chaise lounge and then had lain on top of her. Holding himself on his elbows, he'd looked at her face, glaring intently. Kendra had closed her eyes, knowing what he was doing. She hated when he studied her as if he could glean everything he needed to know from just one look. He had waited for her to open her eyes. She had practically felt his patience. Unable to stand it, she'd opened her eyes to find him still staring at her. ―What's the matter, Ken?‖ he'd asked her again. Kendra had known he wouldn't let it go. ―Mom called right before you got here.‖ She had loosened his tie and undone his buttons. Sloan had narrowed his eyes and she'd been able to tell he was angry. ―What the hell did she say this time? Did she tell you that I was out cheating on you? Or let me guess, she told you I probably wouldn't be coming home. Right?‖ Kendra hadn't been able to look at him, and that had been enough to confirm his suspicions. ―Why do you put up with that, Ken? She does nothing but make you feel miserable.‖ ―She's my mother, Sloan.‖ ―Well, she should act like it. Don't listen to a damned thing she says. I hate it when she upsets you like this.‖

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―I know, darling,‖ Kendra had said as she lifted her head to kiss the skin she'd exposed. ―I don't want to talk about her right now. You're home.‖ She'd slyly shimmied her shoulders a bit to catch his full attention. She'd worn an off-the-shoulder peasant blouse and a long, full skirt. It was one of his favorite outfits. That had done it. He'd narrowed his eyes again as he really looked at her and what she was wearing. He had taken the pins out of her bun. ―Are you wearing a bra?‖ he'd asked her as he used his fingers to fan her hair out around her head. ―Can't you tell?‖ Kendra had smiled and shook her head. ―Nope.‖ Keeping one hand buried in her hair, he had used his other to pull her blouse down and expose her small, pouting breasts. ―What about panties?‖ It had come out as a growl as he lowered his head and sucked a brown nipple into his mouth. Kendra had gone taut as a wire at the feel of his mouth on her. She'd tried to remember his question. ―Aah…aah…n-n-noooooo.‖ But Sloan had already known the answer, having slipped his hand under her skirt to find her vagina wet and slick and her clit hot and pulsing. His slight pinch to that small bundle of nerves had made her stutter. ―Take care of my pants, Kennie-girl,‖ he'd said as he tongued and sucked her nipples more. Kendra had unbuckled his belt and pushed his pants and boxers down around his thighs. She had held him in her hands, adoring the thick, full weight of his cock. ―Help me, baby,‖ she'd begged and pushed up her skirt. Sloan had lifted his hips and plunged, making her scream at his possession. He had taken her slowly as his mouth went back to her nipples. His fingers had been still tangled in her hair, pulling the strands as he worked his dick inside her. Kendra had felt like she would die, the pleasure had been so great. She'd wrapped her legs around his waist and abandoned herself to her purely animalistic side, howling and clawing at his back as he'd ridden her into near oblivion. Kendra shivered and tried to shake off the memory, but couldn't make herself open her eyes. She'd missed Sloan and their intimacy over the past three weeks. Yesterday's time in bed should have been enough, but it wasn't, and she wished she could go back to their bedroom to wake him up for more lovemaking. Her sigh was full of longing and regret. ―Duty calls,‖ she said.

*** Sloan stood in the kitchen's entryway looking at Kendra. He wondered what she was thinking about as she leaned against the counter with her eyes closed and a mug of what he was sure was tea in her hand. She wore one of her many dark suits, and her hair was pulled back in a neat bun. In quick succession, at least two ways he could muss her up ran through his mind. Her eyes opened and connected with his, and he knew that he'd get to try out one of those ways before she walked out the door for her breakfast meeting. She said nothing but didn't look away either. He could tell that she was frozen with wary anticipation. She knew. Naked except for a pair of boxers, he stalked her. She still didn't move and didn't break eye contact. He took the mug from her hand and put it in the sink. Bending his head, he stopped short of kissing her. Her breath shuddered out and whispered across his lips. ―Challenge,‖ he demanded.

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This time her breath came out in a whoosh. ―But…Kyle…‖ ―Tied one on last night and is upstairs dead to the world for at least a couple more hours. Challenge,‖ he demanded again. A jerky nod was her only response. She loved and hated his challenges, because she always lost them. ―I bet I can make you scream without messing up this tidy little outfit of yours or getting a strand of your hair out of place.‖ ―And mine?‖ ―Your challenge, sweetheart‖—he slipped his hands under her skirt and groaned when he encountered the smooth flesh of her behind—―is‖—he slid his hands up to her waist, pushing the skirt up as he went—―to not‖—he lifted her onto the counter, knelt in front of her, and pushed the cloth of her thong aside—―scream,‖ he finished and wrapped his lips around her swollen clit. ―Oh God!‖ Kendra moaned and her head fell back and hit the cabinet. The pads of her feet landed on each of his shoulders, and she fed herself to him. The man can eat out like nobody's business. His tongue shot out to lick and suck at her clitoris. She snatched at his hair when he abruptly started licking her labia from bottom to top. ―Sloan!‖ The word escaped when he started taking little nips with his teeth. He slid his tongue into her opening, and she could have sworn she actually felt herself losing her mind. Her movements completely frantic now, she pushed herself toward her orgasm, closing her thighs around his head and riding his face until there was nothing left for her to do but thank her Maker for making her a woman—Sloan's woman—and to…scream. Sloan stood and pulled her close, groaning when she wrapped her legs around his waist so that her heat enclosed his penis. ―Do you really think I brought a condom with me, Kennie-girl?‖ he asked with a gentle kiss to her forehead. ―'S'okay,‖ she whispered back and tightened her legs. ―We're clear.‖ ―No, no,‖ he said with difficulty and unwrapped her legs. ―We don't have time. You know I'm going to take you to your meeting. It's too early for you to be out by yourself.‖ Kendra moaned when he stepped away. ―But, Sloan, I'll be fine.‖ ―I'm not letting you walk through the garage by yourself.‖ He lifted her from the counter and helped her stand, smoothing her skirt down over her hips. ―And since I'm up, I may as well drive you to the breakfast. Where is it, by the way?‖ Kendra frowned and tried to piece together his question. They were having breakfast at the hotel where her client was staying. She told him the name of it. ―Cool. It won't take us long to get there. I'll get ready in the spare bathroom while you refresh yourself in ours. Meet you back down here in ten minutes.‖ Feeling a bit sleepy and with her head in a whirl, Kendra swayed on her feet as she watched him leave the room. She loved him, but at times like this—when all she wanted was to feel his erection plunging between her thighs—she cursed that he was so damned protective. If he didn't feel the need to take her to her meeting, thereby making it necessary for him to take those ten minutes to get dressed, they could finish what they had started. Hell, she calculated, we could be finished in fewer than five. Lips twisted in resignation that for the foreseeable future,

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the only thing she'd be riding was the passenger seat, Kendra poured her tea down the sink and left to freshen up. ―What time do you think you'll be home today?‖ Sloan asked as he pulled out of the parking garage and onto their leafy, sleepy side street. ―I don't know,‖ Kendra said with a shrug. ―Ten or so, I guess. No, make that about eleven. This breakfast will probably go longer than most. I have a feeling the client wants to really dig her heels in today. Why? What are you and Kyle up to?‖ ―We'll be going out to my parents', so we probably won't be home when you get there. I'll leave the car with you and walk home,‖ he finished as they turned onto Lake Shore Drive. Kendra studied the sparkling blue of Lake Michigan as they drove. ―No, Sloan, take the car back. You'll have a hard time finding parking down here, and I don't want to pay for parking. It will be hard to find on the street, and the lots and garages are too expensive. I can walk home later or take a taxi. You didn't have to drive me, you know. All you had to do was walk me to the garage and wait for me to get into my car. So there's a reason for this. What is it?‖ ―I'm sure you already know the reason,‖ Sloan said as he navigated onto Michigan Avenue. ―It's about yesterday. I didn't talk about it because Kyle was on his way up, but now is as good a time as any.‖ ―Now? When I'm about to go meet a client in person for the very first time? Now is a good time?‖ ―It's as good a time as any,‖ he repeated definitively. ―It's not like we'll be covering new ground here, but I feel it has to be said. You need to trust me, Kendra, or how else will this relationship work?‖ ―I am sorry about last night, Sloan. You know I love you, and I do trust you. Some things are just harder to get over than others, and I am much better than I was before—‖ ―Yeah, I know you're better and you're working on it,‖ Sloan interrupted. ―But what I really want to know is what I can do to help you get there. I love you, and I'm tired of feeling like I'm banging my head against a brick wall.‖ Kendra looked over at him. His eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses, and he kept them focused on the road ahead. She reached out and briefly cupped the side of his face. ―I know you love me, Sloan, and I also know that this is something I have to do for myself. Thank you for wanting to help, though.‖ ―What else am I going to do? Helping you can only help me and our relationship. And you and our relationship are the two most important things in my life, Ken.‖ The words were so sweet that Kendra almost cried from the purity of them. ―I know, darling,‖ she said. ―I'll fix it. I promise.‖ Sloan pulled in front of the hotel and let the car idle. He turned to look at her. ―All right, Ken. I'll hold you to that.‖ ―I hope you will,‖ Kendra said sadly, knowing it was going to be tough on the both of them. She gave him a kiss before climbing out of the car.

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Chapter Six Kendra finished the last of her water and pasted a smile on her face for Clio Sorbonne, the fifty-something designer of clothing for plus-sized women. ―Well, Madame Sorbonne, it was a pleasure meeting you. I'm just sorry it's taken so long.‖ ―As am I,‖ Madame Sorbonne said. ―But we all have our busy schedules, n'est-ce pas?‖ Kendra resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the woman's pretentious, horribly accented French. Even her fake name was pretentious. She was originally from Arkansas, and her given name was Cleotha Brown. She'd remade herself and obnoxiously made sure that everyone knew it. Kendra would have been able to deal with that, but it was that combined with everything else that was Clio Sorbonne that had made Kendra wish throughout the meeting that she could be anywhere but there. Kendra looked over at her boss and the owner of L and H, Lawrence Harris, who was practically leaning across the table to hang on Clio's every word. ―You are so right, Clio,‖ Lawrence said with a laugh. ―I know my plate is always full. And since you're a business owner like I am, I'm sure you really never have a free moment to yourself.‖ Kendra ground her teeth and avoided looking across the table at Mozell Reese, her friend and coworker. She was such a clown, she was probably making faces or something. Lawrence's laugh had been ingratiating, oily, and sensual all at the same time, and Kendra didn't want to see Mozell's almost certainly inappropriate reaction to it. ―Yes, well,‖ Kendra began in an effort to bring things to a close, ―you can rest assured, Madame Sorbonne, that your marketing manager has been doing a good job in your stead. But isn't it lucky that your unexpected trip to Chicago gave us this opportunity to meet?‖ ―Yes, indeed,‖ Clio agreed, her gaze on Lawrence, and her intimate smile directed solely at him. ―I'm glad I was able to just drop in like I did. I love Trista, but I didn't get where I am today by not knowing what's going on with my business. I'm sure you understand.‖ ―Heck, swee – uh, Clio,‖ Lawrence began. ―There's nothing to understand. It's your company; you run it as you see fit.‖ Clio preened. ―I knew if anyone would understand, it would be you, mon ami.‖ ―Mon Dieu,‖ Kendra muttered under her breath. She wished with all her heart that they'd just leave and find a bed somewhere and put the rest of them out of their misery. The whole I of their being business associates was wearing thin and had been for the past hour and a half. ―Well, mes enfants,‖ Clio said as she prepared to rise. ―I must fly.‖ Kendra watched Lawrence rush around the table to pull out Clio's chair and stood to shake the other woman's hand. ―It was nice meeting you, Madame Sorbonne. And don't worry; your account is in good hands.‖ ―Yes, it is,‖ Mozell chimed in as she too stood to shake Clio's hand.

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―Oh, I know that.‖ Clio's tone was dismissive. ―I trust Lawrence fully, and I know that he'll do right by me. I just wanted to meet the two women who will be handling the campaign. I was a little concerned when I first saw you, because you're both…um…let's just call it less than full figured, and I didn't think that there was any way you could understand what was needed for those of us who are more generously built. But after talking to you, I see that you do. So carry on, mes enfants. Tah,‖ she said with a two-fingered wave before turning to leave. ―I'll see you two on Monday,‖ Lawrence said as he prepared to follow Clio from the restaurant. ―It's about time they left,‖ Mozell said with a look of disgust as she sat back down. ―You know they're about to go have sex, don't you?‖ ―Yeah, I'd figured as much,‖ Kendra said drily. ―They weren't even really trying to hide it.‖ Mozell's brown eyes twinkled with devilment as she leaned in to whisper, ―They were making out like a couple of hormonal teenagers before you got here.‖ ―You're kidding, right?‖ ―I'm not. I was early, and I saw them kiss right before they walked into the restaurant. They obviously had just left her room.‖ Kendra shuddered. ―Okay, I need to erase the image from my mind. Give me a second. It's like thinking about your parents doing it.‖ Mozell laughed. ―Please. Nasty older people need to get their freak on just like everybody else. But if she had called us her children one more time, I was going to put my less-than-fullfigured fingers around her more voluptuous neck and squeeze until her head exploded.‖ ―I know what you mean. God, her French was awful!‖ ―Ain't that the truth? And she's lucky, because I'm starving, and when I'm hungry, I'm not the most patient—or tolerant—woman. Want to order more food?‖ Kendra didn't blink at the change in subject as she picked up her menu. ―Of course I do. I hate it when Mr. Harris orders for the whole table. I don't know how he thinks anyone can survive on a little bowl of fruit and a couple of slices of toast. I'm a grown woman.‖ ―Right! But it had nothing to do with his thinking fruit was enough for everyone. Old Cheapo just didn't want a big bill. Even the fruit was six dollars!‖ Kendra frowned and picked up the slip of paper that was on the table. ―Well, he's not paying,‖ she said as she read the unpaid bill. ―He's stiffed us with the check!‖ ―That rat bastard,‖ Mozell mumbled and took the bill. ―That's okay, though. I'll just use my corporate card, so he'll be paying for it anyway.‖ Kendra laughed. ―Good. I would use mine, but since you're the higher-ranking employee here, it's on you.‖ ―That's cool. Let's order.‖ Mozell signaled the waitress.

*** Kendra pushed a half-empty plate of blueberry-cashew pancakes away. ―Phew,‖ she said and sat back. ―I can't eat another bite.‖ ―That's too bad.‖ Mozell forked up more of her own banana-walnut pancakes. ―They make the best pancakes here, and I'm not stopping until every crumb is gone from my plate.‖

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Chuckling, Kendra studied her friend. The two of them were such opposites, but in the eight months since Mozell had been transferred from Boston to L & H's Chicago office, the two had hit it off. It still surprised her. Kendra was the buttoned-down, conservative type, a senior account director who never made a decision without weighing all of her options first. By contrast, Mozell was a carefree flower child who made decisions based on what she felt, never stopping to think twice. Apparently it worked really well for her, because at thirty-four, she was a vice president of creative. ―I don't know how you eat so much and stay so skinny,‖ Kendra observed. Mozell was tall and thin with more-than-ample breasts. ―All the weight must go to those huge boobies you're carrying.‖ Mozell's laugh was light and husky. ―Don't hate me 'cause I'm bountiful and you wish you could be.‖ ―I'm fine just the way I am, thank you very much.‖ ―Well, I know Sloan thinks you are, since every time I see the two of you together he can barely keep his eyes, hands, and lips off you. Speaking of your man, what time does he get in today? Shouldn't you be leaving?‖ Kendra smiled. ―Actually he came home yesterday. He wanted to surprise me.‖ ―Oh cool. Still. I'm surprised you didn't leave when Madame Clio and Mr. Harris did. Usually when Sloan comes home from a trip, I don't see hide or hair of your sex-starved behind for days on end.‖ ―Well, this time is different,‖ she chided. ―His brother is in town, and they haven't seen each other for months. I'm giving them time alone together.‖ Mozell perked up. ―Sloan has a brother? Is he as handsome as Sloan? How old is he? What's his name? How tall is he? Why haven't you ever told me about him before?‖ ―Slow down. In answer to your questions: yes, almost, thirty-two, Kyle, six feet one or two, so a couple of inches taller than you, and I guess I never told you because Kyle is hardly ever around, especially since you and I met. Now I have a question for you. Why are you acting so desperate? You're hardly ever without a date.‖ ―I'm not desperate—just conscious. Sloan is a great man, Kendra, and if his brother is anything at all like him, I want to meet him. It's a simple as that. Good men are hard to find.‖ Concerned, Kendra frowned. ―I didn't know it was that serious for you, Zellie. You never said.‖ Mozell shrugged. ―I'm thirty-four years old, and I want to get married and have children. So while it's not desperate, it is serious. Think about it. I first have to meet the man and get to know him. That could take at least a year. It could take another year before we decide to marry, and then maybe another year to plan a wedding. That's three years. I'd be thirty-seven before I could try to have a child.‖ ―I never looked at it that way. But maybe you could shave off some of the time. Maybe it won't take a year to meet and get to know the guy. Maybe it will only take half that, and of course you don't have to take a year to plan a wedding.‖ ―Maybe, but I know myself. I don't think I could get to know a man in less than a year the way I'd need to know him before I married him. Look at you and Sloan. You guys have known each other for four years, and you're just now planning a wedding.‖

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Kendra smiled. ―Yeah, but that's only because I resisted him at first because we worked together. Then I had to be sure of him, so I moved in with him first. Sloan asked me to marry him three years ago.‖ Mozell's mouth dropped open. ―Three years ago! What took you so long to finally say yes? Didn't you love him?‖ ―Of course I did. Still do, in fact.‖ ―So what was the holdup, then?‖ Kendra squirmed uncomfortably in her chair. ―Okay. We haven't known each other that long, so you don't know about my childhood, but my father left my mother and me constantly for months at a time and then abandoned us for good when I was twelve. So of course I have— had—issues with men and trust. You can't imagine how hard it was for me to get to the point where I could trust Sloan not to leave me, but I love him, and I wanted to try. He was the first man I was even willing to try to trust, and by that I don't just mean my body—though he's my first and only lover—I mean everything—my emotions, my mind, my trust—all of me.‖ ―I'm confused. What does your father's leaving got to do with Sloan?‖ Kendra looked at her friend in surprise. Mozell really did look confused. ―I know you have to know that our childhoods affect us as adults.‖ ―Yes, I do know that,‖ Mozell said patiently with a shrug. ―But Sloan is not your father. I guess I'm just projecting. I think that I probably would have made sure that I found the exact opposite of my father. I don't think I'd mistrust all men because my father was untrustworthy.‖ ―Maybe, maybe not,‖ Kendra said. ―Some people would have mistrusted men and stayed away from them like I did, and others might have gone out with many men or the wrong men in search of their father. Who's to say what any one person would do? I can only tell you what I did. But aside from all of that, Sloan is the opposite of my dad. That's not the point. The point is that subconsciously I don't—didn't—trust men, because the one man I was supposed to be able to trust from day one had abandoned me.‖ Mozell's nod was slow and contemplative. ―I see. So how'd you overcome it?‖ ―By realizing what you just said: Sloan is not my father, and I shouldn't judge him by what my father did.‖ ―That must have been a relief, huh?‖ ―Yes, it was,‖ Kendra said and tried to smile. She didn't think it necessary to bring up the minor skirmish with Sloan or to tell her friend that the worry lay just in the back of her mind, always ready to pounce. ―So anyway,‖ she said to change the subject. ―If you want to meet Kyle, I can certainly introduce you, but I have to tell you: he's an awesome guy, but he's played the field for as long as I've known him. Also, he hasn't always been all that stable when it comes to holding a job and his finances. But from the conversation we had over dinner last night, he seems to finally be on the right track.‖ ―So he's broke and a player?‖ Mozell brought the situation down to its bare bones. ―No, thanks, I think I'll just steer clear of Mr. Kyle John—Wait. But you did say he was hot, didn't you?‖ She reconsidered her options with a hopeful smile. Kendra burst into laughter. ―I'm serious, Kendra. Is he in the wedding?‖ ―Of course. He's Sloan's best man.‖

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―Well, shoot,‖ Mozell said with a disappointed pout. ―That means he'll be paired with Victoria instead of me.‖ ―But you can still meet him.‖ ―I know, but Victoria is just drop-dead gorgeous.‖ ―Yeah, she is,‖ Kendra said, referring to her best friend, ―but she's not in Chicago, and you are. And besides, you're no slouch in the looks department yourself.‖ ―I'll do in a pinch. How long is Kyle planning to be in town?‖ ―At least a couple of weeks, I think. Do you want to meet him?‖ ―I don't know. Let me think about it.‖ ―Well, let me know. Maybe I can plan dinner at our place or something; otherwise he's going to be busy catching up with family.‖

*** Sloan frowned in concentration, hoping he had read wrong. After dropping Kendra off, he'd decided to check in at his office. Saturday or not, after three weeks' absence, he needed to make sure that everything was running smoothly. He'd gone over the accounts of his personal clients before starting in on those of his associates. It was the Patterson trust that brought him up short. Things were off—way off. ―After the way you joked with Kendra yesterday, the last place I expected to find you today was in the office.‖ Distracted, Sloan looked up to acknowledge Kyle with a nod before going back to his work. He'd called Kyle earlier and told him to meet him at his office so they could drive out to their parents' place together. ―Is something wrong?‖ Kyle asked as he fit his lanky frame on Sloan's sofa. ―Mmm,‖ Sloan answered in angry confirmation without looking up. ―Was it something I said?‖ Ignoring him, Sloan picked up the telephone receiver and dialed a number. He waited impatiently for his call to be answered. ―Hello, Megan. How are you?‖ On edge, he practiced phone etiquette and slogged through the pleasantries. ―I'm well, thanks. The kids are fine? That's good…good. Listen, I need to speak to Pete… Fishing? When will he be back… All right, then. I'll see him in the office on Monday. Thanks.‖ Unable to contain his fury any longer, he swept his arm in a wide arc, knocking the phone and most everything else on his desk to the floor. ―Goddamn it!‖ Kyle had risen and was already at Sloan's desk. ―What's wrong?‖ His anger still in control of him, Sloan abruptly stood, shoving his chair back as he did so. ―Unless I'm wrong—but Jesus, I know I'm not—someone is stealing from the Patterson trust.‖ Kyle frowned. ―What?‖ Sloan sighed. ―Terrence Patterson was a janitor. He died about a year and a half ago.‖ Terrence had been cleaning Sloan's office one late night and had struck up a conversation. They'd hit it off and would occasionally go out for a drink after they'd both finished their work. Terrence always cleaned Sloan's office last because his firm was housed on the top floor of the building. He'd wait around for Sloan to finish up, and they'd head out. It wasn't until they'd been out a few times that Sloan learned Terrence owned the cleaning company, which had offices in

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almost every large city in the midwestern and western states. The casual drinks had been his way of making sure Sloan was the right person to represent him. Eventually he'd come on as one of Sloan's clients, and Sloan set up the trust. And now it looked like someone was stealing from it. ―Are you saying you don't know for sure that money has been stolen?‖ Kyle asked. Sloan ran his fingers through his hair in frustration and picked up the papers that had fallen to the floor during his brief tantrum. He looked down at the numbers again. ―Yeah,‖ he said reluctantly. ―Money has been stolen. It's all there in black-and-white.‖ ―Let me see,‖ Kyle said, reaching over to pick up the computer printout. Sloan held the papers out of his reach. ―No. It's confidential.‖ Unsurprised, Kyle only shrugged. ―What are you going to do about the thief?‖ ―First I'll have to root the bastard out.‖ ―You don't know who did it?‖ ―Unfortunately no. There are three associates connected to the trust: Patrick Thomas, Donovan Shaw, and Pete Taylor. Patrick and Donovan are the point people on the account, and Pete oversees it. Of course, Pete reports to me. And there's Emily Walsh, Pete's assistant; because he's the lead, she also needs almost unlimited access.‖ ―Well, what about your assistant?‖ ―Mrs. Cantera?‖ Sloan asked in surprise. ―Yes, she has access too, but Mrs. Cantera would never do anything like that. She came over with me from L and H and stuck with me through those first few lean months. She's as devoted to the firm's success as I am, and I…guess I'd better add her to the list as well.‖ Kyle frowned. ―I assume you set the trust up the way you did to make theft difficult.‖ ―Exactly.‖ His hands were on his hips, his stance still confrontational. He narrowed his eyes as he thought it through. ―Terrence left his wife a lot of money. That much money can tempt a lot of people to do wrong. Apparently the temptation was too great for someone to resist. Damn!‖ he said in disgust. ―I forgot about Ranya DuBois. She's the firm accountant. Okay,‖ he muttered as he paced away from the desk. ―This isn't insurmountable. I can fix this.‖ Kyle hitched one half of his butt on the desk and picked up a framed photo of Kendra. He smiled at her huge grin and serious eyes. ―How do you plan to find out which one did it?‖ ―It could have been any one of them. The only reason I called Pete is because he's the manager, but now I realize I was lucky he wasn't in. If he's the one stealing, I would have tipped him off. It's the same with all of them. I can't discuss it with them, but they're the logical ones to discuss it with in order to root out the thief.‖ ―'Ah, there's the rub,'‖ Kyle said dramatically. Sloan gave him a look of cool disinterest. ―Gee, William fucking Shakespeare, you think you could refrain from soliloquies while I think this through?‖ ―So what's your next step, then?‖ ―Well, first and foremost, I have to tell the client.‖ Sloan thought of Mrs. Patterson, a sweet and feisty seventy-six-year-old who always had homemade brownies or cookies for him when she came to the office. ―Man, whoever this asshole is, I'm going to kill him.‖ ―Or her,‖ Kyle reminded him.

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―Or her,‖ Sloan acknowledged. ―The thing is, Kyle, I can't imagine any one of them doing it. All of them except Ranya and Patrick have been with me since my first big success. We're all friends,‖ he finished simply. ―You probably shouldn't take it personally,‖ Kyle began but paused when Sloan shot him a look of pure disbelief. ―Just listen to what I'm saying. Whoever took the money probably didn't even think about you when they did it. Maybe they have a sick relative or a gambling problem, or hell, I don't know,‖ he said, ―maybe they just wanted it because it was there. All I'm saying is that I'm sure the motive for taking the money was purely selfish.‖ ―This is my firm, Kyle. Mine. You fuck with my firm, you fuck with me. There's no difference.‖ It was as simple and elemental as that. Kyle said nothing. ―Ah well,‖ Sloan began after a moment of reflective silence, ―whoever did it is going to feel the wrath of Sloan.‖ It was a joke from their childhood. Joke or not, Sloan was ready to make all hell break loose. Kyle went along with the joke. ―Wedgie included?‖ he asked hopefully. Sloan quirked a brow but simply couldn't stretch his humor that far. ―Damn it! I worked hard to build this place up, and I'm not about to let some two-bit thief screw things up!‖ Eager to get out on his own, he'd started his firm at the age of thirty-one. He'd figured that the only person he should be working so hard for was himself, and he'd made the plunge. He hadn't looked back. His firm's four-year anniversary was approaching, and they were doing well. He'd hired four other lawyers within a year of starting out and in the past couple of years had hired five more. ―Just how long have they been stealing and how much have they taken?‖ Sloan heard Kyle's question as if it had come from the end of a long tunnel. The anger he felt was almost suffocating him. He rubbed his hand across his eyes and concentrated on answering. ―That's another thing. Whoever's doing it would have needed my signature. The monthly allowance to Mrs. Patterson is static, and I have to approve any increases. So the thief has been forging my signature.‖ When the impact of what he said registered and left his normally talkative brother speechless with his mouth open, Sloan couldn't resist. ―'Holy illegal, Batman!'‖ he drawled. ―What do we do now?‖ Kyle laughed sheepishly. ―Where's Commissioner Gordon when you need him, right?‖ Soberly, he said, ―But seriously, Sloan, this is now officially beyond ugly.‖ Sloan heartily agreed. By signing his name, the thief had ensured that Sloan would be the first one suspected.

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Chapter Seven ―Just how mad are Mom and Dad?‖ Kyle asked Sloan later as they walked onto the porch of their parents' suburban home. He pressed the doorbell. ―Well, let's see. You disappeared for months without telling anyone where you were going, and then you didn't call to let us know you're okay. Ah,‖ he said dismissively. ―Don't worry about it. I'm sure they're just mildly irritated.‖ Kyle apparently didn't appreciate the sarcasm. ―I told you where I was,‖ Kyle reminded him. ―Right. You sent a cashier's check in the mail and a note saying you were off to greener pastures. The postmark on the envelope read Las Vegas. I had no idea where you were after that.‖ ―Guess I got some explaining to do.‖ ―Yes, you do, Lucy.‖ ―Smart a—Hello, Ma.‖ He suddenly found himself facing Mary Johnson, who'd pulled the door open. He smiled. ―It's the prodigal—but favorite—son come to call. You don't have to settle for second best anymore. I'm here now!‖ He watched as her lips twitched and her eyes filled with tears. ―I'm sorry, Mom,‖ he said and bent to pick her up in a hug. ―I really am. Don't cry.‖ Relieved to have something that would take his mind off his own problem, if only briefly, Sloan herded them into the house. He saw that his father and sister were waiting and walked over to them. ―Hey, Dad. Amy.‖ Bending, he kissed Amy on the cheek and watched as his mother cried and scolded Kyle at the same time. ―Ooh, I hope she lets the little jerk have it,‖ Amy whispered vehemently, but there were tears in her eyes too. Carson Johnson walked over and gently pulled his wife from Kyle's arms. ―Where have you been, Son?‖ ―That's it?‖ Amy asked as she strode over. ―All he's going to get is that wimpy question? I have five years of seniority on him. Let me, Dad. Kyle Eric Johnson. Where the hell have you been keeping your sorry, no-account, worthless, irresponsible ass all this time? Couldn't you pick up the phone and call at least one of us to let us know that you were alive?‖ Kyle looked down at his sister. Catching the finger that she'd been wagging in his face, he pulled her into his arms and looked over at his mother. ―Are you going to let her use that kind of language in this house? I'm shocked.‖ ―Come into the kitchen,‖ their mother said over the laughter. ―And you're lucky that's all she said. If I weren't so emotional right now, I'd get your brother and your dad to hold you down while I walloped your behind. You come in here and get ready to explain yourself.‖

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Sloan studied Kyle's face. He noticed, as he'd noticed the night before, that his brother looked harder and tougher. And even though Kyle laughed and joked like he'd always done, Sloan knew that Kyle had changed in the nine months he'd been gone. Even as he watched, Kyle tensed as if readying himself for something. And Sloan knew that whatever had kept Kyle from calling or coming home for all those months was something his parents didn't need—or weren't ready—to hear. He stepped forward. ―Hey! What about me? Don't I get some love? I've been gone for three weeks. Where's my hug? Did you break out the fatted calf? Where's the champagne?‖ he asked and hugged his mother as she apologized. ―It's okay. To make up for it, you can talk to Kendra for me.‖ ―Talk to her about what, dear?‖ Mentally he apologized to Kendra for what he was about to do. ―You're not going to believe it, but she thinks that maybe we should get married at city hall,‖ he lied. ―She says the expense and stress of a big wedding don't seem to be worth the heartache.‖ His family was Catholic, as was Kendra. He winced as three voices started shouting questions at him at once. He looked over at Kyle, who was staring at him speculatively. You owe me, Sloan mouthed and let himself be ushered into the kitchen. ―All right. Let's hear it,‖ Sloan said to Kyle as they sat in their parents' backyard at an old picnic table. A lunch of sandwiches and fruit had gone well as they'd discussed everything from Amy's children to Kyle's new project to Kendra's suddenly and inexplicably turning heretic on them. Sloan felt like they'd gotten a reprieve when Mary and Carson had decided to start dinner and Amy had gotten a call from her fourteen-year-old daughter. ―Where were you after you left Vegas, and what happened while you were there?‖ He could tell Kyle was trying to make up his mind about something. ―Okay, you don't have to tell me,‖ Sloan capitulated after Kyle had been quiet for so long. ―Just tell me if you're in any kind of danger.‖ ―No, not right now. I was before, but I'm not right now. I've been told not to tell, but there's really no one I trust more than you. On the other hand, telling you might put you in danger, but if something happens to me…‖ Sloan sighed impatiently. ―Just tell me what you want me to know, and we'll leave it at that. There's no time for all this cryptic bullshit. Mom, Dad, and Amy will only stay inside for so long before they come out here, especially Amy. You know how she is.‖ He narrowed his eyes against a gust of wind blowing in his direction. ―Look, I've thrown Kendra to the wolves, toothless as they are, for you. Tell me why I did that, and hurry up, because I've got to call her and warn her before she gets here for dinner.‖ Kyle snorted. ―You've got to invite her to dinner first. Good thing you were able to talk Mom into letting the conversation to save Kendra's soul wait until then. Kendra's going to kill you, isn't she?‖ he joked. Sloan would suffer for that lie; no doubt about it. Sloan frowned. ―Just tell me what's going on and stop stalling.‖ Tense again, Kyle began his story. ―After I left here, I decided to head to Vegas to try my luck at the tables there. Things went well for a while, which is how I was able to wire you and Kendra your money back. But my luck soured after about a month, so I went to Tahoe, where my luck changed again. I was doing so well that people began to notice—the wrong kind of people.

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This guy named Cassius Sherman and a few of his friends started hanging around watching me play. You know me, I'm a pretty good judge of character, and I don't make waves. I didn't know them well, but I knew that they weren't what you would call model citizens.‖ ―Just how unmodel-like were they?‖ Kyle shook his head. ―Cassius and his crew are into everything from loan sharking to drug dealing to – well, just everything. Anyway, I was just hanging with Cassius's brother, Tom, just a harmless kid who thought I was cool because I was on a winning streak. I won't lie and say it wasn't an ego stroke, but I also thought I could help Tom. He's twenty-five but acts and thinks like someone much younger. I figured the more he hung out with me, the less likely it was that he'd get caught up in his brother's crap.‖ ―What else?‖ ―Well, one night I got in on this poker game. The good luck I'd had since I'd come to Tahoe was still holding, and I won the whole pot.‖ He grinned. ―Eighty thousand big ones.‖ ―What happened?‖ There was always more whenever Kyle was involved. ―I was accused of cheating by another player.‖ ―Did you cheat?‖ Sloan didn't feel guilty for asking. He'd known his brother to cheat more than once. Kyle's grin was unashamed. ―Nope, not this time.‖ Helplessly Sloan grinned back. ―Bullshit.‖ Kyle's laughter filled the yard. ―I haven't cheated since we were kids, Sloan, and I only did that because I hated losing to you.‖ ―So what happened to the eighty thousand? Do you still have it?‖ ―Yeah, I do. Cassius had made the other player back off about the cheating, and then he asked me if I'd like to make a little investment, so to speak. He said I'd double or even triple my money. I told him no, of course. I plan to take that money, make some more from it, and finance my new company. You see, there's another poker game coming up soon. The pot is at least two hundred grand. Needless to say, Cassius didn't like my answer, but he'll get over it. Anyway, here I am. I thought I'd let the heat die down before going back for the game.‖ Sloan studied him. ―There's more to it.‖ ―I'm getting to that part. Right after I won, this FBI agent approached me, Special Agent Sexy Ass.‖ He stopped and looked off into the distance for a few seconds before shaking his head and giving a brief whistle. ―God, it's unbelievable how hot she is.‖ Sloan could only roll his eyes at his brother's one-track mind. ―But you digress…‖ ―Yeah, but man, if you could only see her. She's tall and just so damned stacked—‖ Sloan threw him a look suggesting he could and would do him bodily harm. ―All right, all right; I'll bottom line it. Besides all the other crap they're into, the FBI thinks Cassius and his crew are also into teenage trafficking—kidnapping girls and forcing them into prostitution. Special Agent Sexy Ass, or, SASA, wants me to use Tom and get closer to him so that I can get close to his brother. ―I turned them down at first because as bad as they are, loan sharking and drug dealing just aren't enough for me to use Tom like that. I'm just not that civic-minded. It was the teen trafficking that got to me enough to make me tell her I'd think about it. So basically, the FBI wants me to become a snitch, or as it's more professionally termed, a confidential informant.‖ ―They actually want you to put yourself in danger like that?‖

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―The way they look at it, I'm already in. I just need to go deeper.‖ ―Are you going to do it?‖ ―Yeah, probably. I really just want to make SASA sweat a little bit.‖ Sloan snorted. ―Bet she just loves when you objectify her like that.‖ Kyle flashed a guilty smile. ―Think I'd be crazy enough to say it in front of her? And I know it's bad, but I just can't help it. Anyway, I came home to think about it some more, and I made those business appointments too.‖ ―What about the wedding?‖ ―Don't worry. I'll be here for it. I wouldn't miss it for the world.‖ ―You know as my best man that you're responsible for throwing me a bachelor party, right?‖ ―Hell yes,‖ Kyle confirmed enthusiastically. ―Want strippers? How about a club with exotic dancers? Whatever you want, it's yours.‖ ―I don't know about all that. You, Connor, beer, maybe some tacos and Buffalo wings, a game on the TV, and I'm good. You could invite other friends too.‖ ―Just you, me, some damned chicken, and Connor Chang?‖ Kyle asked in disbelief. ―Are you fucking kidding me? The only good thing about that scenario is that with Connor there, there'll be twice the women interested as there would be if we were alone. I know a lot of them would probably be get-it girls, but still, you'd better leave the party planning to me.‖ Sloan thought about asking what the hell a get-it girl was, changed his mind because the answer would probably be too juvenile, shrugged his shoulders disinterestedly, and brought the conversation back to the issue uppermost in his mind. ―What aren't you telling me about this whole Tahoe thing?‖ ―I was just thinking about Tom. He's been stealing money from his brother to gamble. So far he's won enough to put it back, but I'm looking ahead to the day he doesn't win. Cassius, brother or not, will at the very least probably put him in the hospital. Tom is kind of slow, you know?‖ ―The only thing you can do is try to be there for him when it all blows up, I guess. I assume you tried to convince him to stop stealing, but he won't listen.‖ ―Yeah,‖ Kyle said tiredly. ―Anyway, thanks for that save earlier. I didn't want to tell Mom and Dad.‖ ―It's okay. I could tell you didn't. All right,‖ Sloan said as he stood. ―I'd better call Kendra and let her know what to expect.‖

*** ―Ouch!‖ Sloan protested when Kendra slugged him in the arm as they were walking into the apartment. He didn't ask why. He turned and locked the door. ―That was because I couldn't do it at your parents' house or in the car unless I wanted to cause an accident,‖ Kendra said over her shoulder as she walked toward the staircase. ―And there were too many damned people in the elevator, so I couldn't do it there either.‖ Once in their bedroom, she continued her rant as she pulled the pins from her hair and tossed them onto her vanity. ―I can't believe you told that lie about me.‖ Automatically she held out her arm in a silent request for Sloan to unclasp her bracelet. ―Your parents were practically

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threatening an exorcism!‖ she muttered when he was finished, and stepped out of her shoes as she took off her suit jacket. Sloan winced when she tossed the jacket on a chair and started unbuttoning her blouse. She was really pissed. She was a neat freak and always hung her suits up as soon as she took them off. Still, he didn't apologize. Waiting her out, he sat on the bed and pulled off his shoes, watching as she stripped out of her skirt, garter, and thigh highs. She wore nothing but a thong and matching bra. When she bent at the waist to shake her hair out, he suppressed a groan and wondered if this was to be her punishment for him—wondered if she was deliberately turning him on so she could shut him down when he tried to consummate. He stood and walked over to her to take her by the shoulders. ―I'm sorry, Ken.‖ He looked down into her face. ―I've already apologized, and I shouldn't have lied in the first place. I had a good reason. You already know part of it, and now I can tell you the rest.‖ When he'd called her to warn her, he'd only told her that he'd lied to keep from telling his parents what had happened to Kyle. ―I really am sorry, sweetheart. I did tell them that it wasn't true, though. You heard me.‖ ―Yeah, but that was after your dad asked if I thought I needed a session with Father Quigley,‖ she said, but there was no real heat in the words. She shook her fist in his face in mock anger and warning. ―This had better be good, Blondie.‖ Sloan only led her over to his favorite plush armchair, grinning knowingly when she grabbed her robe off the bed. ―I'm chilled,‖ she told him when she saw his expression, and her voice was accusatory. ―What? I didn't say anything.‖ He sat and pulled her down with him. ―No, but you were thinking it,‖ she grumbled as she made herself comfortable. ―So what's the deal? I want all the sordid details.‖ ―Can't give them to you because Kyle didn't give them to me. I'll just tell you what I know,‖ he promised. And he told her. ―What? Are you kidding me?‖ Kendra demanded and pushed back to look at him. ―Because if you are, Sloan, let me just warn you, it's your ass on the line. Something like this isn't even remotely funny!‖ ―I'm not teasing, Ken. He's really been approached.‖ ―Your brother is actually going to work with the FBI,‖ she finally said after a careful study of Sloan's face. ―Is he nuts? Doesn't he realize how dangerous it will be?‖ ―He's not a kid anymore,‖ Sloan said gently, because he saw the genuine worry in her eyes. She was fiercely protective of those she loved. Kyle was often irresponsible, and she saw him as childish, so mistakenly thought he was helpless like a child. Sloan knew that she couldn't be further from the truth. ―Kyle's a big boy. I'll worry about him too, but I know he can take care of himself.‖ Kendra chewed her bottom lip. ―But he'll be in danger every minute he's involved, Sloan. I can't believe the FBI would use him like that.‖ ―He's made up his mind to do it, I think, so there's nothing we can do about it. Besides, he was in special ops in the air force. That's got to count for something.‖ ―That's not the point,‖ she insisted, a worry line still wrinkling her brow.

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―Then what is?‖ ―They shouldn't use him—‖ ―You're forgetting that Kyle doesn't have to help if he doesn't want to. They can't force him. He's getting involved because he feels he can help. I don't think I'd be able to sit back either if I were in his position.‖ ―And you!‖ Kendra accused as another thought occurred to her. ―You should be telling him just walk away from it. He's your baby brother, for God's sake!‖ ―I'm not his keeper, Kendra. If he wants to do it, there's nothing I can do to stop him. As I said, if it were me—‖ ―I know what you said! Don't think I didn't. If you ever…‖ she began. ―Well, it isn't about you, is it? It's about Kyle. And the FBI—‖ ―Apparently feels he's their chance to catch some slime. I repeat: they traffic in teen prostitution. I'd be disappointed in him if Kyle didn't do everything he could to help.‖ ―But, Sloan, he—‖ Sloan pressed a finger against her lips. ―Stop worrying, sweetheart. Kyle can handle himself.‖ ―He'll also have to testify after. I wonder if he's even thought of that.‖ ―He'll be okay. I'm sure he can get protection from the FBI if he feels he needs it.‖ Kendra sighed. Sloan recognized the look. She was ready to give up a battle that she couldn't win. ―Well, I guess I see why you guys didn't want to tell your parents, and I guess you're forgiven for lying about me.‖ ―I am?‖ ―Yes,‖ she said and burrowed closer when he nuzzled her neck. ―That's good, baby.‖ He slid his hand over her thigh to squeeze her butt, sighing appreciatively when the move made her curl into him even more. ―Now. How about we move on to a more…pleasing topic?‖ ―Uh-uh,‖ Kendra denied him as she gently licked his ear. Surprise made Sloan temporarily suspend his squeezing. ―Did you just say no?‖ ―Yes, I did.‖ Pressing a kiss against his mouth, she ran her fingers through his hair. She pushed back away from him so she could look into his eyes. ―Because I want to know what's going on with you. What else happened today?‖

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Chapter Eight ―So you're saying that someone set you up to look like an embezzler!‖ Outraged again, Kendra had long since removed herself from Sloan's lap and was now standing at her vanity removing her makeup. ―I can't believe that one of your friends would do that to you.‖ ―Join the club,‖ Sloan muttered. Although the situation had been on his mind all day, giving him plenty of time to get used to the idea that he'd been betrayed, disbelief still tore at him. Kendra walked behind his chair and began massaging the knots in his shoulders and around his neck. Bending, she placed a kiss on his head. ―I'm so sorry, Sloan,‖ she whispered before resting her cheek on his head. ―What are you going to do? And what can I do to help?‖ Relaxing into her ministrations, Sloan sighed and closed his eyes. ―I'll have to report it, of course. I have no choice.‖ ―Oh, baby.‖ It came out as a sympathetic sigh as she hugged him. ―I'll go with you. I'll get dressed so we can go right now.‖ ―No, Monday's soon enough to wade into the shit.‖ ―All right, then. We'll go first thing Monday morning.‖ He uncrossed her arms and took her wrists in his hands, playing with the delicate bones there and loving her all the more. ―You don't have to—‖ ―Of course I have to go with you! Where else would I be at a time like this but with you?‖ Sloan heard the surprise in her voice and knowing she was insulted, kissed her fingers in apology before leaning his head back into her breasts to look at her. ―I know that, Ken, but I'm not talking about reporting it to any law-enforcement authorities—at least not yet, so there's no place to actually go. No, I'll have to smoke the thief out first. And I think I have just the way to do it,‖ he said contemplatively. Eyes narrowed, he sat up straighter as a thought took root. Kendra gave him a quick kiss before walking around and plopping herself on his thighs. ―What way? And who else would you report it to if not the authorities?‖ When no response was forthcoming, she gently twisted his ear. ―Sloan!‖ Sloan focused on her again. ―Sorry, babe. I was thinking of something else. What did you say?‖ Taking his face in her hands, Kendra patiently repeated her questions. ―Oh, I would have to report the theft to the Attorney Registration and Disciplinarian Commission if it's one of the lawyers, and if it's Ranya, I'm sure there's a similar organization for accountants that I'd have to report her to. As for my plan…I'll tell you when I've thought it through better.‖

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Kendra caressed the sides of his face so he'd look at her. ―All right, I recognize that stubborn look in your eyes, so I know you're not going to tell me anything more. I'll be satisfied with your nonanswer for now, especially since I know this has got to be hard for you. You'll get through it, baby,‖ she swore earnestly and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead and then his closed eyelids. ―I'll help you.‖ Another soft kiss. ―We'll fry their asses,‖ she promised sweetly before covering his mouth with hers.

*** Sloan sat at the head of the conference table at his firm's weekly Monday-morning status meeting. Five of his potential betrayers were in the room, and he studied each of them in turn. Dark eyes snapping with amusement and as usual covered in brand-name fashion, Ranya DuBois laughed out loud at something the red-haired, pale-skinned Peter Taylor was saying. The young, pretty accountant had come highly recommended a couple of years before, and almost from the beginning of her tenure, there had been rumors floating that there was more than just work between her and Pete, a dogged, ambitious married man who'd had to take the bar exam twice before passing. Until now Sloan had ignored the rumors. But Saturday's discovery made him narrow his eyes and take a closer look at them. When Peter lifted his blue eyes to look at him, as if sensing his gaze, Sloan continued to stare for a moment before nodding and shifting his gaze toward Patrick Thomas. Patrick was his most recent hire and a California transplant. His bleach-blond looks, laidback attitude, and habit of sleeping around often made people miss his sharp mind. He was a demon with details, a killer at tax law, and a definite asset to the firm. Sloan would cut Patrick off at his tanned knees without breaking a sweat if he turned out to be the thief. Now he focused on Donovan Shaw. Handsome with skin the color of rich-brewed coffee, the unmarried Donovan oozed intelligence along with sensuality and was a hit with practically every woman in the building. Sloan had gone to law school with Donovan's sister Kelly and had briefly dated her before they decided it would be best if they remained friends. Sloan had known Donovan since the younger man was an undergrad, and he still saw Kelly socially. It was because of this history that a betrayal from Donovan would be especially hard for him to wrap his brain around. But if Donovan were the thief, Sloan would take him down without a qualm. Eyes still narrowed, Sloan nodded in agreement with his angry thoughts. He'd cut any of them down and not look back. He caught his secretary's eye and gave her the nod to get the meeting started. Eliza Cantera stood, drawing attention to herself and quieting the room. ―Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. Let's get started, shall we? Ms. Broderick,‖ she said to the head of intellectual property, ―as usual, we'll begin with—‖ ―No, let's shake things up a bit this week,‖ Sloan said, making everyone cast their gazes toward him. ―Let's start with you, Pete. Tell us what's going on with the Patterson trust.‖ He spread his hands out conciliatorily when Peter threw a look of surprised confusion at Sloan's deliberate singling out of one account. ―And all of your other clients, of course,‖ he finished with a smile that was anything but reassuring. He checked out the reactions of the other suspects when he threw out his surprise command, and if anyone was nervous, he couldn't tell. Peter quickly looked at Donovan and then Patrick , cleared his throat, and began his report. Though Sloan's halfway-slouching form and downcast eyes made it look like his attention was

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elsewhere, he was completely focused on what Peter was saying, his ears practically cocked for a sign of anything out of the ordinary. Of the people with access to the account, only Emily Walsh wasn't there. But Sloan surreptitiously studied everyone else connected with the trust as Peter talked. Disappointed that whoever the thief was, he or she wasn't going to give him a clue that moment, Sloan let Eliza direct the rest of the meeting in the way she saw fit. When the last division head had wrapped up and people were gathering their things to leave, Sloan raised his voice in order to be heard over their individual conversations. ―Before you go, I have an announcement.‖ He waited for those who had already stood to sit back down. ―I had an idea over the weekend. To give everyone an opportunity to broaden their experience and perhaps become more marketable if they should decide to leave here, I'm going to switch up the teams starting today.‖ He waited for reactions. Everyone, including Eliza, was surprised, but Peter was the first to respond. ―Are you sure you want to do that, Sloan? I mean, if we're switching people all the time, wouldn't that hinder our ability to give our clients the best service possible?‖ Sloan's smile brooked no argument. ―You misunderstand, Pete. It won't be a constant thing. And of course we won't switch the leads on a case, because your clients have become used to you. We'll just worry about team members for now, and it won't be all team members at once.‖ ―What about litigation?‖ someone asked. ―Oh, those of you representing clients going to trial or who are in trial right now will remain in the same position, specifically first and second chairs. However, you may get a new researcher.‖ ―And does this affect me?‖ Ranya asked. ―No, Ranya. After all‖—Sloan paused, smiled again—―we only have one person managing the money, really, and that's you. But I might bring someone in to help you on occasion, as we've gotten quite busy of late. Does anyone else have questions?‖ There was no response, so Sloan continued. ―Good. It should be a smooth transition; after all, we've all helped each other out before during crunch times. This will only make it more official. We'll start out small, just to see how things go. Uh, I believe we'll start with the Reyes intellectual property case and the Dolan case. Chance,‖ he said to a young associate, ―you'll start working on Reyes, and Belinda, you'll switch to the Dolan case—just research for now.‖ Sloan grabbed his coffee mug and left through the door closest to him, while most everyone else exited through the other door. He didn't feel like engaging in small talk and, frowning to discourage conversation, he walked toward his office deep in thought. He still had no clue as to who the thief was. Oh, he knew he'd shaken things up a bit with his announcement, but it hadn't been enough. He realized now that it was naive to hope he could have it all wrapped up that day. The thief was obviously too smart to give himself away that easily. Disgusted and somewhat disheartened, he strode into his office. A windy sigh preceded a slamming of his coffee cup on the desk before he walked over to stare out his window. ―I guess our little sneak thief didn't give up the goods, eh?‖ Kendra said softly with sympathy from behind him. Sloan had jerked around at the first sound of her voice. He should have known she'd be there, even though he'd insisted she didn't need to be—not at this early stage. He'd assumed he'd be fine, whatever the outcome of that morning's meeting. But as he watched her glide toward him in that sexy way only she had, he realized that though he could do it alone, he didn't need to,

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and he'd never been so happy to see anyone in his life. He buried his face in her hair, breathing her scent deeply when she wrapped her arms around him. He said nothing as he leaned on her for support and let himself be comforted. As he did, some of the misery he felt at the thief's betrayal lessened. ―I'm so sorry, baby.‖ Kendra kissed his cheek in commiseration. ―Don't worry. We'll get them. It just won't be as soon as you'd hoped.‖ Sloan bit back a laugh and pulled back some so he could press his forehead to hers. ―You amaze me. Even I didn't know I was subconsciously wishing for a quick resolution, not until I didn't get it, that is. How did you?‖ ―I just did; that's all. Despite evidence to the contrary,‖ she chided softly as she smoothed hair back from his face, ―you're only human. Who wouldn't have wanted something as terrible as this to be over as quickly as possible?‖ Angling her head, she stood on her toes and pressed her mouth to his, lightly slipping her tongue between his lips. ―Sloan—Whoops, sorry to interrupt.‖ Sloan looked up to see Peter standing at the entrance to his office. He kept a grip on Kendra when she would have broken away in embarrassment. He took his time releasing her. Kendra cleared her throat and turned. ―Uh, hi, Pete. How are you?‖ ―I'm fine, Kendra, thanks,‖ Peter said with a smile. ―It's been a while since I've seen you. How are the wedding plans coming along?‖ ―Oh, fine, just fine.‖ She made her way back over to the couch to pick up her purse and tried a smile. ―And how are Megan and the kids?‖ ―Everyone's fine, thanks. The kids are growing like weeds, per usual. Our oldest girl has been accepted to Chicago Prep for next term.‖ Sloan caught the suggested look that Kendra threw his way. She was also subtly nodding her head in Pete's direction. Chicago Prep was the most expensive private school in the city. ―Kendra,‖ Sloan said slowly, because he knew exactly what she was thinking. The little nut thought she'd solved everything, and was probably already seeing Pete in handcuffs and an orange jumpsuit. ―It's probably time for you to get back to your office,‖ he told her without even bothering to sugarcoat his hurry to get her out. ―I'll see you at home later, and maybe you'd better make a doctor's appointment. The way your head's leaning, it looks like you've got a stiff neck.‖ Kendra's eyes widened, and she abruptly straightened her neck. Her narrowed eyes told him that she was not amused. ―Yeah. I'll see you at home. Bye, Pete, take care.‖ ―You too, Kendra.‖ Peter watched her walk out before turning to look at Sloan with a worried smile. ―I noticed her head too. Is she going to be okay?‖ ―She'll be fine. Runs in her family,‖ Sloan said with a straight face. ―What can I do for you, Pete?‖ Peter closed the door. Sloan lifted a brow in inquiry. ―Please, have a seat,‖ he invited and walked around his desk to take his own chair. ―Is something wrong?‖ ―Depends on how you look at it,‖ Peter said and rubbed his sweaty palms down his thighs. ―I guess I should just come out and say what's bothering me…‖ ―Yes, you should.‖ Nodding, Pete looked at Sloan. ―I think it's a bad idea to have people switch from case to case like you're proposing—‖

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―Not proposing, Pete,‖ Sloan told him in a firm voice. ―Implementing, or if you'd like, demanding.‖ Peter's eyebrows shot up in surprise at this. ―All righty, then.‖ Confusion was clear in his voice. ―So there won't be any discussion around it?‖ Sloan was known for his easy and open style of managing, but right at this moment he didn't like being questioned. He'd already told everyone how it was going to be during their meeting. ―We've already had it.‖ His tone was implacable, and he smiled his shark's smile. ―You've now questioned me twice about this, Pete. Let's not make it a third time.‖ Recognizing dismissal, Peter rose and walked to the door. ―See you later.‖ Sloan frowned as his thoughts turned inward. Peter was a little too nervous.

*** ―How do you know he knows something?‖ The tone of the voice was hard and impatient. ―Are you sure?‖ ―Well, no, I can't be absolutely sure,‖ the accomplice said nervously. ―But you don't know Sloan the way I do. There was just something about the way he looked and sounded this morning. I can't put my finger on it exactly, but…‖ ―But what? Look, I don't think he knows anything. We should keep to our schedule. We haven't got nearly enough—‖ ―But that will be difficult. The way he's set things up now, I don't know when I'll be able to get in and—‖ ―Just make it happen. I'm sick of your excuses.‖ There was a sigh as the architect of the plan recalculated. The voice became deliberately silky. ―You know I need that money, baby. Think of all we could do with it once we get to Brazil. It's so much cheaper to live down there.‖ The kiss was unexpected and just enough to guarantee obedience. ―Do it for me, sweetheart. Do it for us.‖ The caress that followed was spine shivering and mind drugging. ―All right. I'll do it for us.‖

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Chapter Nine ―You are a stone fool,‖ Kendra said to Connor Chang around gut-busting laughter. He was Sloan's best friend, and an in-house lawyer at her company. He'd dropped in to her office to chat. Tall and elegant with intense dark eyes and a personality to match, he was, and always had been, a catch at L and H. She'd always enjoyed his company and loved the little chats they had. He'd just begun to tell her about an incident he'd had with a new junior creative account executive who'd been trying to get him to approve an ad concept. ―Sometimes I don't think that I can believe a word that comes out of your mouth!‖ Connor looked at her from where he lounged in the chair in front of her desk. ―It's true,‖ he said. ―I was seriously thinking about siccing HR on him for stupidity. The kid keeps coming to my office with dumb-assed ideas. He thought it was quote, unquote edgy. He thought he was being so clever, and not only told me so but also told me that I was too stodgy to get where he was going with the idea. Can you imagine? Me? Stodgy? The nerve of the little weaselly bastard. I could have fucked him over for that alone.‖ Kendra laughed at the look of pure insult on his face. ―Your ego aside, Connor, who is this person we're talking about?‖ ―Clarence Audrey. The cocky little son of a bitch is driving me insane. He's so eager to impress his boss that he goes overboard, and when you try to pull him back, he cops an attitude. Sometimes I just want to kick his ass,‖ he finished. Appalled, Kendra lowered her voice. ―Cut it out, Con. You should know better than anybody that you can't be saying stuff like that around here. It would probably be construed as a threat or something.‖ ―Jesus, Kendra,‖ Connor chastised. ―I wouldn't actually do it—‖ At her snort, his grin flashed again. ―Okay, so maybe I would. All I need is five, no two, minutes in an alley with the little pissant. He wouldn't know what hit him.‖ ―Well, I'm glad he's not on any of my teams. He's that bad, huh?‖ she asked in sympathy when Connor winced. ―Kendra, you have no idea,‖ Connor said. Their laughter quieted. ―Anyway, how have you been? Wedding plans going okay? We haven't had lunch together in a while, and I don't know what your plans are, but I can't have lunch today, so I thought I'd drop by.‖ ―Yeah, we've both been swamped, and I'm having lunch with Mozell, so our weekly lunch date can't take place today. But to answer your question, the wedding plans are coming along fine, except for one little glitch. Our caterer told us a couple of days ago that she's overbooked and can't cater for us.‖ ―Have you found someone else yet?‖

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―We have a few possibilities. Sloan and I will be meeting with them this week. But I'm surprised you didn't know this, seeing as how you had dinner with Sloan and Kyle last night.‖ ―Yeah, I did, but we didn't talk about the wedding. Sloan had other things on his mind.‖ ―Yeah, I'm sure he did.‖ Kendra nodded. ―The embezzlement is tying him up in knots. It's killing him that he doesn't know who it is.‖ ―He'll figure it out.‖ ―You think his plan will work?‖ ―Let's hope so. It's a good plan to catch the thief.‖ ―I think so too, but I'm worried. Shouldn't he still report it to someone? The police? Maybe the FBI? The state's attorney?‖ Connor, who'd worked for both the FBI and the Justice Department before coming to work at L and H, shrugged. ―He could, and you know it isn't something he's pulled off the table, but this way will eventually work, I think.‖ Kendra frowned to show her dissatisfaction. ―If you say so. What about the fact that Sloan hasn't been able to reach Mrs. Patterson?‖ ―What about it?‖ Connor said with a shrug. ―Sloan told me her nephew says she's on some kind of extended cruise.‖ ―Exactly!‖ Kendra exclaimed. ―You've proven my point.‖ When Connor only shook his head, she continued in exasperation, ―You know, you and Sloan amaze me! The situation is fishy. Sloan says she usually tells him when she's going out of town, especially when a trip coincides with a payment from the trust.‖ ―Usually,‖ Connor stressed. ―And besides, Sloan also said she hasn't done it in a while because he was finally able to get her to see that it was unnecessary, given that the money is directly deposited into her account.‖ Kendra waved her hand in dismissal. ―I still think there's something suspicious about the whole thing.‖ Seeing that she wasn't getting any further with him than she had with Sloan, she changed the subject. ―So tell me what you think of this whole Kyle-FBI thing? Is it a stupid idea or what?‖ Connor grinned. ―They told me you were against his helping out, so I'll just stay out of this one.‖ ―So you didn't even try to convince Kyle not to help?‖ ―Sure didn't. Why should I? Kyle has to do what's right for himself.‖ Kendra shook her head. ―That's macho BS, but fine,‖ she said and threw her hands up. ―I'm done trying to talk some sense into knuckleheads.‖ ―Do you know how long Kyle is staying in town?‖ ―He hasn't really said, but he's already been here for almost a week. That's a long time for him to be in one place. Why do you ask?‖ ―No reason,‖ Connor replied nonchalantly. ―I was just curious.‖ ―Oh, well, knowing Kyle, he'll only be here another week or so before he heads to greener pastures.‖ ―Back to Lake Tahoe you mean?‖ ―Yeah,‖ Kendra answered. ―I'll miss him. It's been fun having him around.‖

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―Well, I'm sure he'll be back for the wedding, right?‖ ―He'd better be, or suffer the consequences.‖ ―I don't guess Kyle had better linger in Tahoe, then.‖ Chuckling, he rose. ―I'd better get going. Work awaits.‖ ―All right, then, Con. I'm sorry we can't do lunch today. Please, let's try to do something next week, okay?‖ ―It's a date. All right, then. I'm out of here.‖ He opened the door—and almost got hit smack in the nose by Mozell, who'd raised her hand to knock. ―Ms. Reese,‖ he greeted formally before stepping back to let her enter. ―Ladies,‖ he said in parting and left the office. Sitting down, Mozell asked, ―What did Secret Asian Man want?‖ Kendra wondered if she'd heard correctly. ―Sorry? Secret what?‖ ―Secret Asian Man,‖ Mozell repeated. ―I can't stand him, the squirrelly bastard.‖ ―Mozell! Why would you call him that?‖ ―Which? Secret Asian Man or squirrelly bastard?‖ ―Both.‖ ―Because he always seems to be up to something; that's why. I don't like him, and I don't trust him. Plus, you never hear him coming or going; he's all of a sudden just there, like a damn phantom or something. It's like he deliberately puts off this persona of being dark and mysterious.‖ ―Jeez, Mozell,‖ Kendra said dazedly. ―I always knew you were sensitive, but not this sensitive. Not many people here know this, but Connor used to work for the FBI. Maybe all of this…stealth you sense in him is just a holdover from his days with them. I don't think anybody else notices it but you.‖ Mozell was quiet for a moment. ―FBI, huh?‖ ―Yep.‖ ―Weird, but that still doesn't explain it all. Trust me,‖ she said emphatically, ―something is off about that man.‖ ―Well, I hope it isn't too off for you to stand beside him for a few minutes,‖ Kendra commented, sighing when Mozell just stared at her in confusion. ―He's your partner in the wedding, dummy. He's Sloan's best friend. You knew that.‖ ―Well, shit,‖ Mozell muttered. ―It didn't even occur to me that I'd be partnered with him.‖ ―I don't know why not. Sloan and I are each only having two attendants. If Victoria is going to be matched with Kyle, then process of elimination tells us that you'll be matched with Connor. It will be fine,‖ Kendra promised when Mozell's frown became even more pronounced. ―Look at it this way; at least you'll be well matched in height. He's got at least four inches on you. Besides that, he's a nice guy.‖ ―Not to me, he isn't,‖ Mozell mumbled around a pout as she looked down. She flicked imaginary lint from her jeans. ―Always lurking around the office like he's up to something. There's something about him I just don't trust.‖ ―Yes.‖ Kendra drew the word out as she thought about the nuances beneath Mozell's comments. ―So you've said.‖ She wondered if something was going on between Mozell and Connor. Oh, that would be lovely. She smiled.

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Mozell's head popped up just in time to catch it. ―What? What's the big, shit-eating grin for?‖ ―I don't know what you mean,‖ Kendra said innocently even as said grin grew even bigger and more shit eating. She looked at her watch. ―I'm not going to get any work done until I eat, so let's just leave a little earlier than planned, okay? We should go right now because I have a meeting in about an hour and a half.‖ Connor walked to his office, thinking about what he'd just heard Mozell say about his lurking and being up to something. He'd have to watch her and be more careful around her. She was not only freakishly tall, but also way too perceptive. She gave the deceptive impression that she was scatterbrained and silly, but that was obviously a front. He shut his door and sat at his desk. Just as he opened his cell phone to dial his FBI contact in Nevada, he thought of something else. He felt a smile pull at his mouth. Secret Asian Man, huh? I like that. Amusement was forgotten when the phone at the other end was answered. ―Yeah,‖ he said in greeting. ―The word is that Kyle Johnson will be taking off to head your way in about a week or so. He'll be back here in a few weeks for his brother's wedding. I don't know if he's decided to try to infiltrate the group or not, but if he does…well, that'll be on you.‖

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Chapter Ten Sloan looked at his watch. It was almost eleven. Kendra and he had started going to earlymorning movies a couple of years before. There was less noise and plenty of privacy. They'd claim the balcony and make out like a couple of randy teenagers who had nowhere else to go to get their freak on. They barely even watched the movies. They stood now in the lobby, debating their selection of snacks. Sloan surveyed the choices. ―Okay, I'd like a Pepsi or something. Do you want anything? Candy?‖ Kendra rubbed her stomach. ―I know we had breakfast about an hour ago, but strangely enough, I could go for some popcorn. Get like a medium-size bucket of it, will you? I'll meet you in the theater. Balcony area, as usual,‖ she said over her shoulder and left him.

*** Sloan looked up and spotted Kendra in the very last row of the balcony seats and all the way in the corner. What the hell? Oh yeah, she was definitely up to something. He was at the head of the short row she'd chosen when what he saw almost made him drop the bucket of popcorn and gigantic Pepsi he'd purchased. Kendra sat in the very last seat in the row. On the seat next to her, which was still raised, lay a small pair of pink lace panties that beckoned him like a flag waving in the wind. Next to the panties sat a bottle of lubricant. He recognized it as the kind he'd introduced her to when he'd talked her into doing what she fondly called ―freaky shit‖ in bed. He raised his eyes to look at her. She sat there primly, with her legs crossed and her coat neatly thrown on the back of the chair in front of her. But her eyes were staring hotly into his as she wiggled her fingers at him in a naughty, abbreviated wave. He handed her the popcorn and the Pepsi so he could take up the panties and lubricant. Holding the crotch of her panties to his face, he took a deep sniff, smelling that scent only she had. Stuffing them in the pocket of his jeans, he sat down and took the popcorn and soda. He leaned over and caught her mouth in a ravenous kiss. ―So far, I like your nothing. I want more of it,‖ he said against her mouth Despite everything, Kendra's face flushed. Her lips moved against his when she whispered, ―Wait until the lights go down.‖ Knowing that the popcorn would be about as tasty as sandpaper now, Sloan sat the bucket on the floor. ―No, no. Pick it back up and put it in your lap,‖ Kendra whispered. ―I want some of it.‖ The lights went down, and it was pitch-dark until the screen in the front of the room lit up. Kendra dipped her hand into the bucket of popcorn, and looking at her, Sloan saw that her eyes were planted firmly on the screen as she fed kernels into her mouth. ―What are you—‖

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―Shh. Just watch the screen.‖ A little irritated now, Sloan stared at her some more. He settled back in his chair. ―Don't tease, Kendra. With Kyle hanging around all the time, I'm too frustrated—‖ Kendra put her hand over his mouth. ―I'm not teasing, I promise. Just wait.‖ As the movie began to play, she continued to eat the popcorn, dipping her hand in the bucket consistently, and each time digging a little farther toward the bottom. At one point, she scraped the bottom with her nails, making Sloan jerk in his chair as the deliberate scrape made the bucket bump against his erection. She stuffed popcorn into her mouth, past the sound of stifled giggles. Sloan looked at her suspiciously. ―Don't play with me, Ken,‖ he warned softly. Kendra kept her eyes straight ahead and said innocently, ―What? I'm just trying to have some popcorn and watch a movie.‖ Even as she said it, her hand scraping the bottom of the bucket again gave lie to her words. Sloan jerked in his seat again. ―Ken.‖ It was a warning. She slowly turned her head to look at him. ―Yes, Sloan?‖ ―Don't start what you aren't willing to finish. You know I'll make you pay.‖ ―I don't know what you mean,‖ she said and turned her body toward him. She stretched her arm so she could put her hand beneath the bucket and firmly cup him through his pants. His eyes fell shut in automatic response to the stimulation. ―I'm just enjoying the show,‖ she said sweetly—and slowly drew his zipper down. Sloan could not believe she was going so far. This was a woman who would duck her head in embarrassment when he kissed her in public. When she reached her hand inside the slit of his boxers and drew out his erection, her soft touch made his hips jerk so violently that he almost came out of his chair. He heard the rough sound of greed she made in the back of her throat and could only pray that it meant she'd take this all the way through to the end. ―You know I'm not wearing any underwear, don't you, Sloan?‖ she whispered in his ear as she took her hand slowly up and down his long, thick length, holding it at the base with her other hand. Sloan jerked in his seat again as her soft breath blew into his ear, disturbing the finely sensitive hairs there. ―Would you like to know how wet I am for you? Hmm?‖ she asked and took his earlobe gently between her teeth. ―I'm so wet that you could probably slide this huge monster into me with no problem at all. There'd be nothing but smooth sailing all the way, Blondie.‖ She removed her hands altogether, and Sloan clenched his teeth in agony. He felt her reach on the side of his chair and then heard her flip the cap of the lubricant open. He gripped the bucket of popcorn so hard that it folded in on itself. He watched Kendra spread the lubricant on her hands; she licked her lips in anticipation of what was to come. Slowly she slid her hand down his shaft again, squeezing just a bit to add to the friction and holding him steady at the base. Biting back a groan, Sloan gnashed his teeth to keep from shouting out his thanks. ―You feel soooo good, baby,‖ she whispered in his ear. ―When are you going to let me feel you between my thighs again? It's been so very, very long, and I miss feeling you pushing inside of me so fast and hungrily that I feel like I'm about to explode all over you.‖ As she spoke, she

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took her hand a little faster over his dick, sliding it completely over the head and then coming back for more. Sloan couldn't help it: he moaned loudly, crushing the bucket of popcorn completely. ―Is it hard enough for you, baby?‖ She licked the rim of his ear, sending him straight to the edge. He could say absolutely nothing. Kendra increased the pressure steadily, bending her head to kiss him as she increased the rhythm as well. Sloan gripped the arms of his seat now as his hips jerked in a mad rhythm to the accompaniment of her hand. Only distantly mindful of where they were, he devoured her mouth as his orgasm slammed through him. Kendra continued to slowly stroke him as he came down from his orgasm. He watched her watching him, and his body contorted with the pleasure and then finally just went slack with satisfaction. She'd never gone this far with him in public. Now he could see that she was turned on. She raised her head to look at him. ―Surprised you, didn't I?‖ ―That's an understatement,‖ he said and took the napkins she offered him to clean up. After putting the napkins in the crumpled popcorn box, he pushed his still-semi-erect cock into his pants and zipped them back up. Taking her hand, he brought it to his lips and kissed the palm. ―You are an amazingly talented woman, Kendra Masters.‖ She shook her head at him. ―I almost backed out of my plan, but I'm as frustrated as you are about the situation at home.‖ ―Aw, poor baby,‖ Sloan crooned as his hand slid onto her knee. ―Open up, Kennie-girl,‖ he whispered into her ear. When she did, he slid his hand all the way up her skirt. She was so wet and swollen that he knew he wouldn't have to do much before she was satisfied. Kendra buried her face in his shoulder, muffling the cry that escaped her mouth when he turned his hand to cup her cleft. Both hands gripped his arm, and she turned into him as he started brushing his knuckles against that swollen bundle of nerves that so desperately needed attention. Sloan kissed the top of her head as she curled into him and then went as taut as a wire. He brushed her clit once…twice…three times…four…and then she was clawing at his arm and stuffing her mouth with his shirt to catch what he knew would be high-pitched cries wanting to escape her throat. ―It's all right,‖ he said and kissed her again. ―It's all right.‖ One of her curls tickled his nose, and he smiled, burying his nose in them to catch her scent as he pulled his hand from underneath her skirt. She snuggled closer and went boneless against him. ―No, you don't, Ken. Don't fall asleep on me. I need a napkin. Have you got any more?‖ ―In my bag,‖ she said sleepily without moving. Sloan reached over for her bag. After pulling it to him, he dug around inside. His hand latched onto what felt like a metal can, and he pulled it out. It was a can of WD-40. He let out a crack of laughter. He hadn't heard any squeaking from the old theater seats because she'd sprayed the hinges. Shaking his head at her resourcefulness, he reached into the bag again and pulled out some wet wipes, the sight of which was the cause for more laughter.

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*** Kendra woke up a few minutes later and looked around in confusion for a second. By the light of the screen, he could see that she blushed deeply but smiled widely. ―Hi,‖ she whispered. ―Hi, yourself,‖ he said and handed her the pack of wet wipes so she could clean herself. He watched her as she lifted up in her seat a bit to get the job done. ―I can't believe you took your panties off in here with the lights still on. Weren't you afraid you'd get caught?‖ ―I didn't take them off while I was in here,‖ she corrected and took a hand towel that he hadn't even noticed from off her chair. She folded it and put it in the bag. ―I took them off in the bathroom. Hand them to me, and I'll go to the bathroom and put them back on now.‖ Sloan pretended to think about it. ―Nah,‖ he said with a shake of his head. ―I don't think so. I like the idea of you running around naked beneath your clothes.‖ ―Sloan, don't play games. I need to put them back on. If you hadn't noticed, it's a bit nippy out.‖ ―I'll give them back, but first I need you to tell me why it's okay for us to do the deed here in a movie theater, but not at home while Kyle is there.‖ Kendra frowned. ―Your brother is right across the hall, and he would definitely hear us. Here, there are so few people and they're so far away that the chances of them seeing or hearing us are slim.‖ ―You hope no one saw or heard us. And tonight, whether Kyle is there or not, we're making love in our bed,‖ he finished firmly. Kendra sniffed. ―No, we're not. You would never force me, and I'm not willing.‖ ―I don't have to force you, and it's quite easy for me to get you willing,‖ he retorted with unassailable confidence. Kendra held out her hand. ―Give me my panties,‖ she demanded. Sloan laughed again, reached into his pocket, and handed them over. She snatched them and rose from her chair. ―I'll be right back,‖ she said as she started to scoot past him. Sloan caressed her butt lovingly. ―Take your time, beautiful. I'm fine. Some of the edge is off now,‖ he said and relaxed back in his chair.

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Chapter Eleven Camille Masters rushed through the crowded street leading to the restaurant where she was meeting Kendra and Sloan. She was a small woman with beautiful, youthful dark skin and a full mouth. She'd let her husband's abandonment rob her of her sense of security and esteem, defining her life by two timelines: when Cedric Masters was in it, and when he wasn't. There was almost no room for anything else. She was bitter and just resigned—resigned to the fact that no man was trustworthy. This was her fact, one she'd developed after living thirteen years with Cedric and twenty years without him. Sloan, she thought, was manlier than a lot of men, and to her that just meant he was even more untrustworthy than most. She believed this with every fiber of her being. No man was to be trusted. As she walked toward their table, she watched Kendra and Sloan huddled together whispering to each other. Sloan's smile was devilish, and whatever he'd said made Kendra look around in embarrassment before grinning shyly and punching his arm lightly. In answer, he tilted her chin up and placed a lingering kiss on her mouth. She leaned into him and kissed him back. Disgraceful behavior. Just plain disgraceful. ―All right, Kendra,‖ she said with what she hoped was a playful smile. ―Let's not give the people too much of a show.‖ ―Mom!‖ Kendra jumped up and hurried around the table to give Camille a hug. ―Hi,‖ she greeted and kissed her cheek. ―Hi, honey,‖ Camille said and held her close. ―You look great.‖ Camille released her but held her at arm's length. ―Thanks, so do you. But then again, you always do. Doesn't she, Sloan?‖ Kendra turned to Sloan, who had risen. ―Hi, Camille. As always, you look beautiful.‖ ―Thank you, Sloan,‖ she said and turned away from him. ―Well then, shall we sit down?‖ Kendra settled back in her seat and looked across the table at Camille. ―So, Mom. How's school?‖ ―Oh, fine. Of course fifth graders are a little wild. They smell the end of the school year coming, and it's always hard to make them settle down.‖ ―I know,‖ Kendra said.‖ So how was London? We haven't really had a chance to talk about it at all.‖ Camille warmed immediately to the new memories. ―Oh, it was wonderful. I went to the Tate Gallery, Buckingham Palace, the British Museum, St. Paul's Cathedral, Piccadilly Circus, and I even took a little side trip to Stratford-upon-Avon.‖ ―Oh wow, that must have been cool!‖ Kendra said excitedly. ―It was—all of it.‖

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They launched into a detailed review of Camille's trip. ―Right, Sloan?‖ Sloan looked up to find Kendra and Camille looking at him expectantly. He guessed that they'd been trying to get his attention. ―Oh, sorry. What were you saying?‖ ―I was telling Mom that since she forgot to bring her pictures today, we could go for dinner next Sunday and make a day of it. You know how much Mom loves to make big Sunday dinners. I was telling her that we don't have anything planned. Right?‖ ―No, not that I can think of.‖ ―Lovely,‖ Camille said, just grateful that she'd get to spend more time with Kendra. ―You know, Mom, Sloan's been to all of those places you just mentioned. He went to Oxford for a semester in college. Tell her about it, Sloan.‖ ―Did you make it over to Notting Hill, Camille? You'd love the antique market there.‖ ―No, I didn't get a chance to go there, but I did take a tour of Mayfair. I loved the houses. I'm starved. Let's order.‖ Preferring the shortest possible conversation with Sloan, she buried her head in the menu. ―So how are the wedding plans coming?‖ Camille asked a little later. ―Is there anything else you need for me to do?‖ ―Gosh no, Mom! You've done so much already, and we've got everything under control. Aside from the caterer telling us she had to cancel because she'd double booked, everything has been smooth sailing.‖ ―Oh no. I hope you got your deposit back.‖ ―Yeah, we did. Can you imagine if we hadn't? It certainly would have left a big hole in our account. Right, honey?‖ ―No doubt,‖ Sloan said, ―But it's okay. It's all taken care of.‖ ―Account?‖ Camille was stunned. ―You share an account? Kendra, didn't I teach you that it's best to have your own account? How many times have I told you that?‖ ―Please, Mom. I'm not an idiot. Of course I have my own…‖ ―Oh, please, don't stop now,‖ Sloan said in a hard voice. ―Finish what you were going to say. Of course you have your own separate account, because when I leave you, you'll need it. Does that about cover it?‖ He stood. Kendra forestalled him with her hand on his arm. ―Don't, Sloan. Where are you going?‖ Sloan moved his arm away and pulled out his wallet. ―Away, so you two can talk freely without me around.‖ He threw some bills on the table. ―There, that ought to cover it. I wouldn't want you to have to dip into your emergency savings, sweetheart,‖ he finished. ―I'll leave the car.‖ He stalked away from the table. ―I'm sorry, baby,‖ Camille said simply. She could see that Kendra was miserable. ―Maybe you should go after him.‖ Kendra looked at her and shook her head. ―No, it won't do any good to try to talk to him now. He's too mad. In fact, I've rarely seen him so livid.‖

***

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Sloan decided to go home and walked along Michigan Avenue, avoiding the many shoppers as best he could. As he approached the corner of Michigan and Oak Street, he looked over and saw Lake Michigan. It wasn't as blue as usual, and the water was choppy. He thought about going over to the beach but dismissed the idea. He needed peace, not turmoil. He crossed the street, careful of the speeding cars. The whole street was busy, but where Michigan Avenue turned into Lake Shore Drive was particularly crazy. A taxi stopped just short of hitting him, and Sloan slapped a hand to the hood. ―Hey, watch it, jerk!‖ ―Right back at you, buddy,‖ the driver yelled and sped off, one of the front wheels of his car barely missing Sloan's toes. Sloan didn't even notice. His mind was on Kendra again. God, she was maddening! He honestly didn't know what to do to make her trust that he wouldn't leave her. The irony was that he had never done anything to make her think he would. He was a good man, damn it! He turned onto his block. She had to let go of her fear of abandonment long enough to see through to him, to who he really was. If she couldn't do that, then there was no hope for them as a couple, and that's what scared him. If she didn't work it out with herself, he feared he'd have to leave her. He refused to be in a relationship where he wasn't trusted. As much as he loved Kendra and knew they were supposed to spend their lives together, he'd give it all up if she didn't learn to trust him, so she could be happy. He knew they'd end up hating each other if they tried to be together with her still feeling the way she did. He cursed Kendra's absent father. You should count yourself lucky I don't know where to find you, Cedric Masters. I'd kick your ass for what you did to her. Her inability to trust people could be laid directly at his door. Stupid, selfish bastard. Of course Camille wasn't totally without blame, but she hadn't been the one to leave Kendra either. ―No, she was just the one to fill her head with destructive thoughts every day of her life.‖ He let himself into the apartment. ―Who are you talking to?‖ Kyle asked him. Sloan looked up to see his brother standing at the closet. ―Are you going out?‖ ―Yeah. I thought I'd go over to the Field Museum and check out the new exhibits.‖ He paused in putting on his jacket. ―Is something wrong, Sloan?‖ ―Nothing I can't handle.‖ Sloan walked into the living room and sat on the sofa. Kyle sat in the chair across from him. ―You were supposed to be having lunch with Kendra and her mom. What happened? You guys have a fight?‖ Not in the mood for company, Sloan grunted and pointedly turned on the television. Kyle snatched the remote. ―Oh, so you can stick your well-meaning nose in my business anytime you choose, but I can't do the same for you?‖ he demanded when Sloan threw him a warning look. ―Stop being such an ass, and tell me what's going on. Did you and Kendra fight or not?‖ Thinking to use him as a sounding board, Sloan told Kyle everything. ―Damn,‖ Kyle commented with a shake of his head. ―I had no idea. But you must have known she was like this before you asked her to marry you, so you can't act surprised now.‖ Frustration ruled Sloan. ―No, she's only been like this since I asked her to marry me. She was fine when we were only dating and living together. Don't get me wrong, I've known about

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her father almost since day one, and I knew that she had problems with his having left them. But I swear to you, she didn't get this bad until after the proposal.‖ ―It's probably because marriage is the ultimate commitment from one adult to another. In Kendra's world, men break promises, so now she's afraid because marriage is the ultimate promise.‖ ―Thanks for the insight, Dr. Phil. Did all those college degrees you got include one in psychology?‖ ―No, but I took a couple of courses. So what are you going to do?‖ ―I don't know, but I'm sick and tired of Kendra's bullshit neurosis. With everything else that's going on, she's the one person I should be able to count on, and this incident today just brought it home that I can't.‖ ―Aw, come on, Sloan.‖ Kyle sounded worried and surprised. ―You don't mean that. Of course you can depend on Kendra. She's always there for you.‖ ―That's not what I mean.‖ Struggling to get his thoughts in order, Sloan rubbed his hands over his face. ―I mean I shouldn't have to worry about whether she's going to freak out on me and decide the relationship isn't worth it. Her fear scares me. It's got me completely on tenterhooks. I'm afraid that someday I'll come home and her fear will have won, and she'll be gone. It's unfair that I should have to feel this way, especially since I've done absolutely nothing to make her distrust me.‖ ―Knock it off, Nancy,‖ Kyle taunted. ―What? You can't take a little insecurity from your woman? You know Kendra loves you, and she's probably the best damn thing that will ever happen to you. She's certainly worth it, so give her time.‖ ―Hell, all I've been doing is giving her time. I don't know what else to do.‖ ―Talking to her might work.‖ ―Don't you think I've done that? We've been over and over it. I know she understands how I feel, and that it's difficult for her, but I'm about at the end of my rope. This problem rears its ugly head at least a couple of times a month. It's got to stop. I'm tired of paying for her dad's abandonment.‖ ―Well, her mother's indoctrinating her didn't help matters. It's not just a matter of your telling her to stop feeling the way she does, or even of her telling herself that—which I'm sure she has. If it were, you wouldn't be so miserable right now.‖ Sloan didn't believe the obvious statement warranted an answer. He shut his eyes and leaned his head on the back of the couch. Apparently completely oblivious to the hint to shut up, Kyle offered more advice. ―Again, I recommend time. But you might also try to convince her to try a little therapy. Now on to other matters. When you say everything else that's going on, you mean that crap at work, right? Case still going nowhere?‖ Sloan gave a tired sigh and opened one eye to look at his brother. ―You're just not going to go away, are you?‖ In answer, Kyle stretched his legs out in front of him, crossed them at the ankles, and rested his entwined hands on his stomach. ―All right,‖ Sloan began as he trained his gaze on Kyle. ―No, I'm nowhere with my socalled investigation. In fact, things are worse, if you can believe that. More money was taken.‖

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―What?‖ The revelation sprang Kyle out of his relaxed pose. ―How in the hell did that happen with your switching the teams around?‖ ―The money had already been taken before I discovered the first losses, but apparently there was a screwup at the bank, and they didn't post the transaction until yesterday.‖ Tiredly, he closed his eyes again. ―So you know which bank? That's good. Now you can find out from the bank who the thief is.‖ Sloan didn't even bother to open his eyes this time, saying mildly, ―Gee, why didn't I think of that? Jesus, man, don't you think that was the first thing I tried to do?‖ He opened his eyes to see Kyle grinning like an idiot. Shaking his head, Sloan muttered something before closing his eyes again. ―Going to the bank didn't work because the money was barely there before being immediately bounced to another bank—one that isn't even in this damn country. It was sent to Andorra. And to top all of that off, I had to go to my friend over at the state's attorney's office, something I hadn't planned to do at this point. She worked her magic, but we're still stuck.‖ ―Is the FBI involved?‖ ―Barely—the guy's one of Connor's friends, so he's doing him a favor. He knows about the situation, but he's letting me do my own investigation.‖ ―Jesus, I bet the shit really hit the fan, huh?‖ ―Not really, but close enough so that you could smell the stench.‖ ―What stopped it?‖ ―Me,‖ Sloan said grimly, ―begging them to give me some time to find out who it is.‖ ―How much time?‖ ―Not enough.‖ ―And what was Kendra's reaction to the new development?‖ A smile curved Sloan's lips as he thought about her fierce response. ―Pissed the fuck off, to put it mildly.‖ ―Well, wish there was more I could do,‖ Kyle offered as he stood. ―But since there isn't anything either one of us can do right now, do you want to come to the museum with me? It might take your mind off things.‖ ―Thanks, but I'm going to wait for my bride-to-be.‖ ―I'll crash at one of my friend's houses tonight so you guys can have some privacy. Why don't you put some Stevland on? That always calms you down.‖ Sloan smiled. He'd been a Stevie Wonder fan since the age of two when his mother had put ―Superstition‖ on the stereo. ―I'm afraid even Stevie's music can't soothe the savage beast this time.‖ ―All right, then. Later.‖

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Chapter Twelve Kendra stopped on the threshold of the living room. She'd spent the rest of the afternoon with her mother, who tried to take Kendra's mind off what had happened. It hadn't worked, of course, and the whole time she was with her mother, she'd thought about Sloan. She'd driven home, let herself into the apartment, and seen him immediately. Anger poured off him in waves. She couldn't blame him, but she didn't know what to say to relieve his anger. And his pain. She'd seen that in his eyes as well before he'd left. She sighed. There was really nothing more she could say. She knew he was getting tired of hearing her excuses. Hell, she was tired of hearing them. ―Standing there is not going to make the problem go away,‖ Sloan said, making Kendra jump. He didn't even bother to look away from the television. She walked into the room and, after taking the remote control, turned the television off. She sat on the table in front of him, taking comfort in the bumping of their knees. ―I'm sorry, Sloan,‖ she said plaintively as she looked into his eyes. ―I really am.‖ ―I know you are, Kendra. You're always sorry, and that's the problem—the fact that you've still got something to be sorry about after all this time.‖ ―Mom didn't mean to sound so cavalier about it.‖ ―I'm not so sure about that, but whether she meant to or not, I don't give a rat's ass worth a damn. It's you I'm mad at, Ken. You're the one I want to marry. You. It wouldn't even be possible for me to care less about what your mother thinks. You rushed to reassure Camille—‖ ―But she's my mother,‖ Kendra interrupted. ―I don't like to see her upset, so it's just automatic for me to reassure her.‖ Sloan sighed and shook his head. ―You rushed to reassure Camille that you were prepared to take care of yourself when—not if, but when—I leave you. It's a fucking foregone conclusion in your mind. That's what was automatic!‖ His anger brought him to his feet to pace away from her. Nervously, Kendra licked her lips as fear coursed through her, because what he said was true, and she knew it. ―I don't think like that all the time, Sloan, and I'm working on getting better, I swear. I love you, and logically I know you're not like my father, but emotionally I'm sometimes that little girl who was abandoned and taught not to trust men. I was told that men aren't reliable, and it was easy for me to believe, because my father had borne it out.‖ ―We've been together four years, Ken, and I hate that I have to keep reminding you of that fact. If you haven't gotten it in your head by now that I won't leave you, that I'm not one of a group and should be judged on my own actions, then how in hell will marriage work between us? How can we spend the rest of our lives together if you're always waiting for me to leave you?‖

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Kendra felt her heartbeat accelerate, and the panic that rushed through her was so forceful that it brought tears to her eyes. It wasn't just his words that were causing the reaction. It was his face. He just looked so…fed up. Terrified, she took a deep breath. It seemed her nightmare was coming true. ―Are you…are you saying that we shouldn't get married?‖ ―What?‖ Sloan, who'd paced to the other side of the room, exploded back toward her. ―That's what I mean. I ask a question, and you automatically assume that I'm going to leave you. Listen carefully. I don't want to call off the wedding.‖ He enunciated clearly. And when her body sagged in relief, he shook his head in disgust. ―I've got to go,‖ he said and walked past her. ―And no, that doesn't mean I'm leaving you. I just need some air.‖ Kendra flinched when the door slammed shut behind him. Other than that, she didn't move at all for several minutes. Sloan was right. Her answer to her mother had been automatic, and the tone had clearly said she didn't trust him. She rose to walk up the stairs to their bedroom. She had to do something to stop the madness. God, she hated feeling this way—anxious and unsure. Sighing, she started stripping off her clothes and wondered when Sloan would come home. She knew if she didn't change her ways, Sloan would have no choice but to leave her. In the shower, fear swamped her, and leaning against the cold tiles, she let herself shatter. ―God, what am I going to do?‖ A few minutes later she pulled herself together. She'd never been one to wallow, and the time called for action. What that action was, she didn't know yet, but she would think of something. She washed quickly, her mind on her troubles and not on the water and the pleasure it usually gave her. She grabbed a big, fluffy red towel and stepped out of the shower. ―God, things were so different when we first met,‖ she said aloud to the empty room and let her mind wander back to the very first day she'd met him. It had been her second day at the company, and her boss had told her to take some storyboards down to Sloan to make sure they weren't crossing any legal lines with their concept. Kendra had walked through a maze of cubicles until she'd found the legal department and his office. When he'd responded to her knock and invited her in, she'd opened the door. All she'd seen was big, gorgeous male. His blue eyes had lasered in on her so fiercely that she'd found it difficult to look away. As she'd watched, those eyes had turned lusty and speculative, as if he were a starving man, and she were the main course of a meal that he wondered if he'd be allowed to eat. She had felt the heat and immediately been attracted to him. Instantly nervous, she'd cleared her throat, walked in, and made an awkward introduction. She had told him—told the desk, really, because she was too nervous to actually look at him—what she needed, feeling his gaze on her bent head the entire time. He'd offered her a seat; she had taken it and had almost lost her composure completely when he walked around his desk to sit next to her in the other chair. He looked at the storyboards, said something so funny that she finally raised her head again to laugh and look at him and…she'd gotten snared by those eyes again. ―And you've been lost ever since, Kendra,‖ she said to her mirrored self. ―So fix it before you lose him for good.‖

***

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Sloan sat alone at the restaurant bar and drank from his second bottle of beer. He was tired of thinking about Kendra—tired of being angry with her. Really, there was nothing left for him to do. She knew how he felt—how her distrust made him feel—and now it was up to her. He'd never walked out on her before, but he was so angry that he literally hadn't been able to stand being around her at that moment. As he was lowering the bottle, he noticed a woman a few feet away looking at him. He couldn't help but notice: she was gorgeous, and she was thoroughly checking him out—an act not wholly unappreciated by him. He returned her friendly smile, which was all the encouragement she needed to saunter over. ―Hi,‖ she said. ―I'm Gladys.‖ ―Sloan,‖ he said and took another sip of his beer. She indicated the stool next to him. ―Do you mind if I sit?‖ He thought about it, thought about Kendra, felt his gut churn with anger and beer. ―Sure. Why don't you?‖ ―So what brings you here all alone on a Saturday evening?‖ Gladys asked. ―Believe me, you don't want to know. It's personal.‖ ―All right, then. So‖—she patted his thigh once—―tell me about yourself, Sloan.‖ Sloan's smirk was self-directed. ―Listen, Gladys,‖ he said tiredly. ―I'm sorry I led you to believe that I was interested. The fact is I'm not, and I'd like to be left alone. I'm engaged to be married, and I'm just angry with my fiancée right now.‖ The woman rolled her eyes. ―I should have known something was off,‖ she said as she rose. ―Oh well, the good ones are always taken.‖ Sloan drank more beer, shifted in his seat, and thought about Kendra. ―Damn her anyway,‖ he muttered, knowing that joy was slowly slipping through their fingers because she couldn't get her act together. That would be the one thing for which he wouldn't be able to forgive her. She was everything to him, and he'd known within moments of meeting her that she'd be the last woman he'd ever date. He had looked into those deep brown eyes of hers and recognized his future. Sloan stood and paid his tab. It was time to go home and deal with his woman.

*** Kendra flipped the second grilled-cheese-and-bacon sandwich out of the skillet just as she heard Sloan's key turn in the lock. She didn't run to hide in the bedroom or rush out to meet him, though she wanted to do both. Instead she went to the refrigerator. She sensed his presence at the threshold of the kitchen as she poured the second glass of milk. ―Are you hungry?‖ She finally looked at him. ―I've made grilled cheese and bacon.‖ ―Is there tomato?‖ ―Yes.‖ Sloan walked closer and took a plate and the second glass. He started walking toward the dining room. ―How'd you know I was on my way?‖ ―I didn't,‖ she said, pulling out her chair after she'd placed her food on the table. ―I was making one for myself, and I decided to make one for you just in case you came home.‖ ―Oh. Thanks.‖

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―You're welcome. I did a lot of thinking while you were gone,‖ she said resolutely and looked down at her sandwich with disinterest. The appetite that had been ravenous moments before had now disappeared. ―Did you?‖ Sloan was noncommittal. Kendra nodded and took a drink of milk. ―I've come to a decision. I've been unfair to you during our entire relationship, and I'm sorry, Sloan. I really am. I've been so selfish all this time. I've only been worrying about how I felt and never stopped to examine what was really going on. I didn't make a concerted effort to move forward and try something different when what I was doing wasn't working. So I'm sorry.‖ ―Okay, Kendra, so you're sorry like you always are. Now that we've established that, can we move on? Tell me what you're going to do to make things better.‖ Kendra shook her head at his impatience. ―I'm getting to that. I've decided that I'm going to see a therapist. Maybe someone with experience can break through and help me—help us.‖ ―Are you sure that this is what you want, Ken? I mean, are you absolutely sure? You understand what therapy is likely to uncover? Are you ready to deal with that?‖ He was already biting into the last of his sandwich. ―Well, therapy will have to help me deal with it, so yes, I am. There's nothing else left to do.‖ She absently slid half her sandwich over to him, smiling when he barely said thanks before biting into it. ―What else is left besides therapy? I can't seem to fix myself, so maybe someone else can.‖ ―A therapist can help you fix yourself, but she can't fix you. You'll have to want to change. You'll have to want the help.‖ ―I know, and I'm ready.‖ ―All right, then,‖ he said with a nod, as if coming to some personal decision of his own. ―Did you have someone in mind?‖ ―Not really. I mean, I did have a roommate in college who's a therapist now, but since I know her, it probably wouldn't be a good idea to go to her. I figured I'd ask her to recommend someone.‖ ―Okay. Just answer me one last question,‖ he said and stopped to chase his final bite of sandwich with the last of his milk. ―What?‖ ―Will the expense of a therapist be considered part of the wedding budget?‖ Kendra grinned as relieved tears gathered behind her eyes. She wasn't completely forgiven, but they were going to be okay. She rose to walk behind his chair, where she hugged him around his neck, pleased when his hands came up to cup her arms. She kissed the top of his head. ―I love you.‖

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Chapter Thirteen Kendra sat uncomfortably and watched as her new therapist, Dr. Pendegrast, watched her. Nervously she rubbed her sweaty palms down her thighs. Finally she couldn't take it any longer. ―All right. What is it that you want to know, Doctor?‖ she demanded and watched as the other woman smiled. It was a gentle, understanding smile—the same smile she'd given when Kendra apologized for being late. For some reason, it made Kendra nervous. ―I've already told you, Ken—Oh sorry. Would you rather I call you Ms. Masters?‖ ―Uh, Kendra's fine.‖ ―All right, then, Kendra. Let's start over, shall we? It was my understanding that you wanted help in getting yourself to a point where you will trust your fiancé, who has done nothing to merit your distrust in the first place. Am I correct so far?‖ She paused and waited for Kendra to answer. A jerky nod was Kendra's only answer. The other woman already had all of this information, and Kendra didn't want to rehash it. She just wanted the healing to begin. ―Right. It hardly seems productive, then, that you would sit here and act like there's nothing wrong—like I'm forcing you to be here. I don't want to waste your time or mine.‖ Taken aback, Kendra stared in silence. Dr. Pendegrast leaned in. ―Kendra, I've been practicing for too many years not to recognize resistance when I see it. You're not a child, and you know better than anyone if you need help. I don't want to take your money if you're not going to let me help. So what you need to decide, then, is if you really want to be here.‖ Kendra mulled it over. She hadn't wanted to come but had anyway because she knew something had to change. This was her last recourse. She supposed that she didn't really believe that therapy would help, because after all, if she couldn't make herself trust Sloan, then what could a stranger do? She knew that her inability to trust him stemmed from her father's abandonment. What more could the doctor tell her? She looked at Dr. Pendegrast, who was looking right back at her, and who, to Kendra's amused surprise, lifted a perfectly arched brow that clearly asked: well? The little no-nonsense woman was not at all the nodding, agreeable doctor Kendra had pictured. She sighed. She was already there. What did she have to lose by talking? Maybe the doctor would give her some exercises or something to help her develop trust. ―All right, Dr. Pendegrast. Let's get started.‖ ―Lovely. Now tell me why you think you can't trust your fiancé not to abandon you.‖ Kendra reluctantly began. ―Because my father left my mother and me for good when I was twelve.‖ ―What do you mean 'for good'?‖

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Kendra suppressed a sigh. ―I mean he was always leaving, but when he left when I was twelve, he didn't come back.‖ ―What do you mean when you say he was always leaving?‖ Dr. Pendegrast asked and looked up from her notes when Kendra didn't answer immediately. Just like that, Kendra began to shut down and had to consciously stop herself. She took a deep breath and started to speak, beginning where she'd left off. ―When I say he was always leaving, I mean he would leave for months at a time, and we'd hear nothing from him during those periods.‖ ―And what would happen when he came back?‖ Lost in thought, Kendra said softly, ―We'd always celebrate. Oh, it was nothing big, mind you. I mean, Mom would bake a cake, or we might go out to dinner or something.‖ ―How would his leaving make you feel?‖ Kendra was quiet for long moments as she thought about those times. Her mind took her back over the years to her childhood. Without being conscious of it, she raised her hands and hugged herself, rubbing her arms slowly. She didn't remember specifics, but she remembered how she had felt. One word came to mind, and she said it in a hollow voice. ―Scared.‖ ―Scared? Why were you scared?‖ ―Because my dad was gone.‖ ―Yes, but he's just one parent. You still had another one there. You r mother made sure you were taken care of, didn't she?‖ ―Yes, she did.‖ ―So why were you afraid?‖ Kendra briefly looked at her therapist and then averted her eyes as she thought. ―Because.‖ ―Because what?‖ ―Because…because she was—My mother was afraid,‖ she said as realization dawned. ―And how do you know your mother was afraid? Did she tell you that she was?‖ Kendra shook her head. ―No, she never said…‖ ―If she never told you that she was afraid, how did you know that she was?‖ Kendra frowned. ―Why are we talking about my mother? She's not the one who left. My father is. And aside from all of that, this is supposed to be about me.‖ ―It is about you. Your mother is a part of you. You're who you are because of both your parents, aren't you?‖ Dr. Pendegrast asked. When Kendra didn't answer but just looked away again, Dr. Pendegrast insisted, ―Tell me how you knew your mother was afraid.‖ Kendra didn't want to answer, but something compelled her to. ―I knew she was afraid because of the way she acted. She would cry and rush around like crazy doing things. It was maddening and like she couldn't be still. And when she was still, that's all she was. She did absolutely nothing but sit or lie down.‖ ―And what about you? How did she treat you?‖ Wings of panic began to beat in Kendra's chest, and she suppressed the urge to get up and leave. ―Fine.‖ ―Fine? What do you mean?‖

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―What do you want me to say?‖ Kendra asked in an emotionless tone and finally looked at her. ―Do you want me to say that she abused me? That she hated me? Well, she didn't. For the first couple of days after he'd leave, she'd ignore me.‖ ―Define ignore.‖ ―Ignore. I'm sure you know what the word means.‖ ―I do,‖ Dr. Pendegrast agreed calmly. ―But I want you to tell me what it meant in those instances after your father left.‖ ―It meant that I had to take care of myself completely,‖ Kendra said resentfully, angry because she'd been forced to talk about it. ―My mother didn't engage with me at all. There was no talking, laughing, or anything. No hugs, no kisses, not even a hello in the mornings. Is that what you want to hear?‖ ―And how did you cope with the situation?‖ Kendra's shrug was jerky but her voice was matter-of-fact. ―I coped. I did what I had to do. No one else was going to do it.‖ ―What's the earliest age you remember doing this?‖ Unbidden, scenes flashed into Kendra's mind. As if she were watching a movie, she saw herself as a smaller-than-average seven-year-old pushing a stool to the stove so she could see better; trying to flip over bacon like she'd seen her father do dozens of times; the quick snatch of burning pain when her palm slipped and hit the skillet's handle; bacon and grease flying everywhere; and the screaming, painful trip to the emergency room. Her hand hovered over the shoulder that had been burned, afraid to touch. After all these years, she still felt the scorching pain of the accident. ―Kendra?‖ ―Sev—‖ She stopped and cleared a suddenly closed, blocked throat. ―I was seven.‖ A tear rolled from the corner of her eye. ―And your father started leaving when you were how old?‖ Kendra's laugh was mirthless. ―Doctor, I don't remember a time when he didn't leave. According to my mother, he'd been doing it since before they were married.‖ ―If that's the case, Kendra, who took care of you in those years before you were seven?‖ Kendra frowned. ―I don't know. I guess I did, or I went without until she came back to herself.‖ ―Was that fair to you?‖ Tired and feeling completely drained, Kendra looked at Dr. Pendegrast. ―Would it be fair to any child?‖ ―I'm talking about you. Was it fair to you? Didn't you deserve to be taken care of properly?‖ Panic returned. She saw where this was going. ―I'm sure my mother did the best she could,‖ she defended. ―I'm sure she did too. But that's not what I'm asking. What about you? Was her best fair to you?‖ Angry, Kendra said nothing.

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Dr. Pendegrast said, ―You think about that, Kendra, because I'll ask you it again—soon. Tell me, what would your mother say during your father's absences?‖ Relief flowed through Kendra, and she answered without hesitation. ―She'd call him all kinds of names: worthless, irresponsible, deadbeat—all of which I agree with, by the way.‖ Her tone remained defensive. Dr. Pendegrast nodded. ―Uh-huh. And given that your mother said all of these negative things about your father leaving, how did it make you feel when she'd throw him a celebration when he came back?‖ Alarm bells went off in her head, and Kendra straightened. She felt like she'd been led into a trap. ―Isn't my time up yet?‖ Dr. Pendegrast looked at her watch. ―We've got almost two minutes. How about spending the time usefully? How did it make you feel when your mother threw your father a celebration for what she essentially viewed as his bad behavior?‖ ―It wasn't like that,‖ Kendra endeavored to explain. ―She wasn't rewarding him for bad behavior. The celebration was because she was happy he was back. He'd always come back eventually…‖ She trailed off uncomfortably. ―Okay,‖ Dr. Pendegrast said and prepared to stand. ―Now our time is up. This is what I want you to think about until our next visit: if your father was always rewarded for turning back into a good boy and coming home, who got punished for the bad behavior that made it necessary for there to be good behavior in the first place?‖

*** Kendra left Dr. Pendegrast's office building and hurried through the parking lot, anxious to get away. ―I guess it's true that they always blame the mother,‖ she mumbled as she settled into her car. As she pulled out of her spot, she noticed Dr. Pendegrast walking in the lot. The doctor noticed her as well and waved. Kendra waved back, frowning slightly because she couldn't understand why she liked the doctor as much as she did. Maneuvering her way through traffic and toward home, she tried to block out the memories from her childhood. She'd been successful at not remembering for all these years, and she begrudged the good doctor's resurrecting the memories. Her father's smiling, laughing face popped into her head, and she pushed it out. He was always laughing at something. It was probably because the jerk had been planning his escape all along. Ha-ha, joke's on us. She stopped at a red light just as her cell phone rang. A look at the caller ID told her it was her mother calling, and she felt guilt throb. She hadn't told Camille that she was starting therapy, and she didn't want to dwell on the reasons. There was guilt from that, but most of it was because she didn't want to talk to Camille at that moment. Memories were too fresh. As she drove through the green light, Kendra decided to ignore her mother's phone call, something she'd never done before. Wincing at the pain from a sudden headache, she took the phone and hid it beneath her purse, then let out a deep breath when the ringing became less strident. She turned onto her street. I have to quit therapy. I won't be able to deal with the headaches, and besides, Dr. Pendegrast doesn't seem to know what she's doing anyway. She consoled herself. ―I can fix this myself.‖

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The headache had her blinking against the light by the time she arrived at her front door. ―Oh God,‖ she mumbled as she turned her key in the lock. After closing the door behind her, she leaned against it and shut her eyes. ―Ken? Is that you?‖ Sloan called as he turned the corner from the hall. ―How'd it go— What's wrong? You look terrible.‖ Kendra painstakingly raised her eyelids to look at him, the miracle in her life, and knew that there was no way she could drop out of therapy. She tried to smile. ―Oh stop. You know flattery embarrasses me,‖ she said mildly as he kissed her. Sloan only studied her face and seemed unready to accept another lie of omission. ―What's the matter?‖ ―I have a headache; that's all.‖ She dropped her bag and made her way to the living room, where she sat gingerly on the sofa and leaned her head back. ―The session was that bad, huh? Or should I say it was that good?‖ One eyelid lifted, and Kendra gave him the most baleful stare that she could muster. She raised her hand, and he watched as her middle finger came up. His grin was unrepentant, and grabbing the finger to kiss it, he offered to get her some aspirin. ―Make it the extra-strength, heavy-duty stuff, will you?‖ Later, Sloan sat on the sofa stroking her hair as he watched the evening news. She'd fallen asleep within ten minutes of taking the aspirin and lay with her head in his lap. He glanced down at her now-relaxed face, wondering what could have happened during that first therapy session. Whatever it was, he hoped it kept happening. Progress was often painful.

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Chapter Fourteen June in Chicago was mostly a one-two punch of rain and wind. Though the temperature was quite warm, every day brought more storms. The sight of the pouring rain and the sound of the wind shaking the windowpanes had Kendra and Sloan working from home that day. Out of the corner of her eye, Kendra watched as Sloan stood and stretched, then walked over to stare out the window. He was restless. Kyle had been with them for close to two weeks— longer than he'd ever stayed before—and they'd wondered together if his brother was having second thoughts about going back to Lake Tahoe. They were also on edge because Sloan was no closer to catching the embezzler. ―For God's sake, honey,‖ Kendra said as she looked fully at him for a few seconds before going back to her work. ―You haven't been still for more than ten minutes today. You're worse than a caged animal. Should we go running to take your mind off things?‖ she offered and pushed her glasses up on her nose. ―You want to go running in the rain?‖ ―Not particularly, no, but I know it bothers you that the state's attorney's office is trying to push its way into your embezzlement issue, and if running will help you get your mind off things‖—she shrugged distractedly and pushed at her loose ponytail—―then I'll do it.‖ She finished reading and looked up from her work again, only to find him standing over her desk staring intently at her. Heat immediately rolled low in her stomach, and her thighs predictably went slack. She knew that look. Licking her lips, she slowly stood, pushing her chair back. Eyes glued to his and already feeling breathless and slightly giddy, she started backing away. ―I see you've thought of another way to take your mind off things, buuut‖—she drew the word out as she rounded the side of the desk opposite from where he stood—―you'll have to catch me first.‖ Grinning hugely and breathing heavily in anticipation, she sprinted out of the office, having no doubt that he would follow. Two and a half hours later, Sloan exited the bathroom, pulling a clean T-shirt over his newly washed head. Kendra moaned in her sleep, and he smiled as he walked over to the bed. She was worn-out and passed out. He'd been demanding, but she'd met him demand for demand, he thought as he snagged her panties that were hanging from the post at the foot of the bed. The smell of her wafted up from the material, making his dick twitch in remembrance and perhaps a little anticipation. The hopeful thought was squashed before it could really begin, however, because just at that moment Kendra shifted and moaned again. Sloan knew she was probably sore, and he tossed the panties into the hamper. ―Poor baby.‖ He walked over to bend and kiss her naked shoulder. The bed was a wreck, with pillows and covers strewn everywhere. Even a corner of the fitted

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sheet had come undone. He managed to untangle the top sheet and blanket so he could completely cover her sleeping form. ―Thank you for that great distraction, baby,‖ he whispered against her relaxed mouth as he pressed a kiss there. She sighed. He heard the front door slam and left the bedroom, closing the door softly behind him. After following the noises down to the kitchen, he saw Kyle with his head buried in the open refrigerator. ―What's up, chump?‖ he asked. He laughed when Kyle jolted and bumped his head. Kyle turned with a smile as he rubbed his head. ―Hey. I didn't know you were home.‖ ―Kendra and I decided to avoid the rain and work here today,‖ Sloan answered and gestured to the food in Kyle's hands. ―I'll have what you're having—make it two.‖ ―Gouda or cheddar?‖ Kyle asked as he began piling thick slices of turkey on sourdough bread. ―Kendra's here too, huh?‖ His look was thoughtful as he studied Sloan. ―Where is she? Does she want a sandwich too? Or like you, did she have a sudden need for a shower in the middle of the afternoon?‖ he asked slyly. Sloan figured Kyle had seen that his hair was wet, but as he leaned against the wall and crossed his ankles all he said was, ―Kendra won't be joining us. And I'll take Gouda, thanks.‖ ―I know why I'm so hungry. Tell me,‖ Kyle said as he began making the third of four sandwiches, ―why are you? Does it have anything to do with this working‖—he made air quotation marks as he said the word—―at home business, and if so, does that require nakedness with the opposite sex? If it does, can I have a job?‖ Sloan just shook his head and walked over to the refrigerator. ―Beer, pop, or water?‖ Kyle's laugh was deep and knowing when he didn't get a rise out of Sloan. ―Water, thanks.‖ He put the finishing touches on the fourth sandwich and opened the cabinet for potato chips. He took out industrial-sized bags of barbecue and sour-cream-and-onion flavored. With two bottles of water in one hand, Sloan grabbed a plate and a bag of chips with the other, leaving the other bag for Kyle. He led the way to the dining-room table and was settling into his chair when he remembered something. ―Wait. Kendra's always reminding me to eat healthy. I'll be right back.‖ Kyle, who had already taken a huge bite out of one of his sandwiches, swallowed and said, ―Whatever you're getting, bring me two.‖ Sloan came back with a bowl full of fruit and set it between them with the bags of chips. ―That ought to do it,‖ he said in satisfaction as he resumed his seat. ―How was your night?‖ A huge grin wreathed Kyle's face. ―Great.‖ Sloan sighed. ―Do I know her?‖ ―Who said anything about a woman?‖ ―Just tell me who she is.‖ ―She works at the concierge's desk downstairs.‖ Now Sloan was surprised, though he didn't know why. ―You slept with Theresa Juarez?‖ ―Some things are best left private. All I'll say is that we spent a very stimulating night together.‖ ―You know if you hurt her, Kendra will kill you, don't you? She considers Theresa a friend.‖

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―Relax,‖ Kyle told him. ―Theresa's a grown woman, and we understand each other very well.‖ ―Debaucher.‖ ―Sure am,‖ Kyle agreed happily. ―Is Theresa the one keeping you in Chicago?‖ Surprise flew across Kyle's face. ―What? Of course not. I mean, I like her, and we have a good time and everything, but that's all there is to it. Besides, there are women in Tahoe— beautiful ones waiting for me to bring my magic back to town. I just haven't felt like leaving yet.‖ ―But why?‖ ―Why does there have to be a reason?‖ Sloan noticed the defensiveness in Kyle's voice. Something was definitely up with him. ―There's a reason for everything.‖ ―Well, there isn't this time.‖ ―Mm-hm,‖ Sloan said absently as he went over what Kyle had just said. He smiled slowly. ―I get it. It's that FBI agent, isn't it? The one who you haven't been able to stop talking about since you got here. What gives?‖ ―I don't know what you mean.‖ ―Right.‖ Sloan's reply was patently skeptical. ―Just tell me,‖ he said and laughed as Kyle grumbled about the agent's mistrust and dislike of him. It seemed his brother was finally getting tripped up by a woman. It was about damned time. ―Shut up,‖ Kyle told him. Sloan cracked up even more. ―Make me,‖ he said in a whiny voice before standing to take the dirty dishes to the kitchen. Kyle followed him. ―But seriously,‖ he began as he threw their empty bottles away, ―I'll be leaving soon so I can get ready for that poker game.‖ ―When?‖ ―My flight leaves on Tuesday.‖ ―What about the venture capitalists? When do you expect to hear answers from them?‖ Kyle washed his hands at the sink. ―I don't really know. I'm told that these things can't be rushed, so I'm trying to be patient. Of course, I hope to hear from them soon. I've given them my cell-phone number, but just in case, I left your house telephone number with them as well. You don't mind, do you?‖ ―Of course not,‖ Sloan affirmed as they left the kitchen for the living room. He listened as Kyle told him what his plans were for the FBI when he got back to Tahoe. He shook his head. ―Just be careful. Kendra and I will miss you.‖ Kyle laughed. ―Not too much, I'm sure. I heard you trying to, uh…let's say convince her to make love one night. And in her answer, I heard my name come up. I put two and two together and knew I'd outstayed my welcome.‖ ―Well, if you heard that much, then you probably also heard that in the end, she was quite happy to be convinced.‖

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―I only heard what I heard because I happened to be going to the bathroom. It's no big deal.‖ ―I know it isn't, but Kendra feels that it is. Is that why you've been staying out all night so much lately?‖ ―Hell no. I was staying out so much because I was getting my own nooky.‖ ―Well, I'm sure Kendra will be glad to hear that our lovemaking wasn't keeping you away.‖ ―Yeah, and if I thought you'd be crazy enough to actually tell her that, I'd stick around just to hear the results. How's her therapy going, by the way?‖ ―She's only had one session,‖ Sloan explained. ―But it must have been a doozy, because she came home with a headache and went right to sleep. Her next session is tonight.‖ ―What is she saying about it?‖ ―She hasn't brought it up, and I'm not going to push her. She'll talk to me when she's ready.‖ ―Do you think the therapy will help the situation?‖ ―Only if Kendra will let it.‖

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Chapter Fifteen ―I'm glad you're here,‖ Camille said from the table as Kendra joined her in the kitchen. ―Imagine my surprise last night when I got your call asking if you could come over for church.‖ ―Sorry it was such short notice, Mom,‖ Kendra said and bent to hug her mother from behind. She pressed a kiss on top of Camille's head when Camille's hands came up to pat her arms. Kendra sat down at the small table and began shredding the cheese for the homemade macaroni-and-cheese dish her mother planned for that afternoon. ―I just wanted to come over,‖ she lied nervously. The last place she wanted to be was there with her mother—at least not under the current circumstances. Damn Dr. Pendegrast, anyway. ―Did you enjoy services this morning?‖ Camille asked as she continued to peel sweet potatoes. Camille had converted to the Baptist faith several years before, and Kendra was still adjusting to the differences between it and Catholicism. ―Oh yes, Pastor Mark was really on his game today. But I don't know how you do it. Making it on time every Sunday morning for seveno'clock services has got to be really hard.‖ ―Not at all. It's the first service, so Pastor Mark is nice and fresh. He gives a hundred percent at the early-riser service, and I like it like that.‖ Kendra thought about all the shouting and pontificating the pastor had done that morning. ―Appears to me that he may have given at least a hundred and ten percent today.‖ ―I know. He really brought the house down this morning,‖ Camille agreed. ―Are you going to help me with dessert too?‖ ―What are we having?‖ ―I thought I'd make a key-lime pie and a yellow cake with chocolate icing.‖ ―Wow, Mom. How were you going to have enough time to do all of that if I hadn't invited myself over?‖ ―I'd have managed,‖ Camille assured her. ―Besides, the Early Riser Luncheon Ladies aren't due until two, and it's not even ten yet.‖ ―I'm sorry for horning in on your ladies' group, Mom. I had no idea that it was your turn to host the luncheon.‖ ―You didn't horn in. You're my daughter, so there's no such thing when it comes to you. The girls will enjoy seeing you again.‖ ―It will be good to see them again too. How is everyone doing?‖ ―Everyone is doing well. Ms. Thomas just came back from the Bahamas.‖ Camille leaned in closer and, in a scandalized whisper, said, ―She picked herself up one of those young gigolos while she was down there too.‖

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―No way! Not Ms. Thomas who used to teach vacation Bible school to all the neighborhood kids?‖ ―The very same.‖ ―Well, she's been a widow for what? Five years now? Why shouldn't she pull a Stella and get her groove back?‖ Camille's laughter pealed musically into the room in appreciation of the joke, but in a serious voice, she said, ―Trust me, Kendra, this is nothing like the book or the movie. This is real life. He's moved in, and her kids are furious. They think he's trying to take advantage of her. Their father left her pretty well set financially.‖ ―How old is this gigolo anyway?‖ ―My age, at least.‖ ―But, Mom, you're fifty-five!‖ Kendra sat back with a scoff and tried not to laugh too hard. ―And Ms. Thomas is what? Sixty-two? Sixty-three? The age difference is negligible. Her kids should mind their own business.‖ Camille was indignant. ―Yes, well, I'm sure knowing that he's only seven years younger will be a huge comfort to Faith when she finds out he's robbed her blind in the middle of the night! Those kids have every right to be worried.‖ Kendra could tell that she had crossed the line, and she tried to tiptoe back over it. ―Why, Mom? What has he done to make them think that he's after her money?‖ ―So you're saying that you wouldn't try to protect me if some man tried to take advantage of me?‖ Kendra sighed. Once again, her mother let her emotions get the best of her, and made the conversation about her. ―But that would never happen, Mom. You don't let men get close enough to you to try anything, let alone take advantage of you—financially, sexually, or otherwise. Though I think sexually might do you some good.‖ Camille narrowed her eyes. ―Watch your mouth, Kendra Casey Masters. Show some respect.‖ Kendra held her hands up, palms outward. ―All right. I'm sorry,‖ she said sincerely. And as soon as Camille looked away to peel more sweet potatoes, a mumbled ―but I'm just saying, though,‖ escaped Kendra's mouth. Camille looked at her. Kendra recognized the look as the one her mother used right before she issued a reprimand. Playfully, Kendra smiled angelically back at her. ―I don't know why I put up with your foolishness,‖ Camille said with a chuckle. ―You love me; that's why. Are you making your homemade frosting?‖ ―Of course.‖ ―Good. Save the bowl for me.‖ Camille looked surprised. ―I know you're not planning on licking it.‖ ―Yes, I am. Why not?‖ ―Because you're a grown woman, Kendra,‖ she said slowly. ―What? A person is supposed to lose her sense of taste just because she's an adult?‖ ―No, but she is supposed to gain a sense of decorum because she's one.‖

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―Oh…‖ Kendra said in mock disappointment and paused in mock contemplation. ―Well, I'll do that tomorrow. Today I'm licking the bowl.‖ ―You're a mess,‖ Camille said lightly and shook her head. Kendra laughed and went back to shredding cheese. ―So,‖ Camille began and picked up her cup of coffee to take a drink. ―Why didn't Sloan come with you?‖ Kendra froze for a moment and then made herself relax. ―Why should he have?‖ she asked as she looked up. ―He didn't want to, and you feel better without him here, so I thought I'd spare both of you and come by myself.‖ Camille didn't even try to deny it. ―So you plan to spend the whole day here with me?‖ she asked skeptically. ―Without Sloan?‖ Kendra rolled her eyes. ―Yes, Mom. Why is that so hard to believe? Sloan doesn't go everywhere with me. I don't need him to hold my hand.‖ ―Oh please, Kendra. It's hard to believe because you haven't done it in ages. I can't remember the last time I was able to see you without that boy attached to your side. The two of you are like a couple of conjoined twins—it's impossible to see one without the other.‖ ―It isn't that bad, Mom. You're exaggerating.‖ ―Hmmph, no, I'm not. It's just a shame that I can't see my daughter without some big manly presence lurking around.‖ Kendra sighed. ―Look, Mom, I'm sorry if I haven't been spending much time alone with you. I'll do better. But I am going to marry Sloan, so don't you think you should at least try to enjoy spending time with him?‖ The front doorbell rang, and Kendra saw relief enter Camille's eyes before she stood up. ―Saved by the bell,‖ she muttered as her mother rushed from the room. She rose to wash her hands at the sink, thinking that she'd shredded enough cheese. She'd come to her mother's house to tell her something, and she now knew that she'd leave without having said anything about it. During the last session, Dr. Pendegrast had asked her what Camille's response had been to her being in therapy. Kendra's answer was that she hadn't told Camille yet. ―Lord, what'd I do that for?‖ she muttered tiredly now as she remembered the conversation that had followed. “Why haven't you told her, Kendra?” “I just haven't.” “When do you plan on telling her?” “I don't know. I wish I didn't have to.” “Why not?” “Take a wild guess, Doctor.” “I'd like to, Kendra, but we both know it would be easier if you just told me.” “She won't take it well, and I don't feel like the drama.” “Why should your mother's feelings on the issue matter more than your getting better? And why should you feel guilty for getting the help that you feel you need?” Kendra had had no answer.

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“Do you think it might be easier to tell her if you don't make a big deal out of it? What if you just called her up and told her? It would be a good step for you to take.” “I can't just call her and tell her something like that. I'll have to go and see her. I'll have to ease her into it.” “Will it really be that difficult for you to tell your mother that you're getting therapy? Don't you think she should be happy that you're getting help so you can be happy?” “I can't tell her over the phone. It wouldn't be fair.” “So your intention is to butter her up? Make the blow have less impact, so to speak? What I'm saying is that the fact that you're going to therapy shouldn't be considered a blow in the first place. And if it is you should try not to let it affect you as much as your mother would want it to. Your feelings need to count for something in all of this, Kendra.” As Kendra dried her hands, she remembered how frustrated Dr. Pendegrast had looked when she finally gave up on trying to convince her that a phone call would suffice. Of course Sloan agreed with Dr. Pendegrast. But Kendra hadn't been able to bring herself to confess via a phone call. If I'm going to betray my mother, I should at least have the guts to do it in person. She knew it was ridiculous to feel like she'd be betraying her, but the sense of it was definitely there. And she'd put off telling her long enough. ―But I can't tell her now,‖ Kendra said aloud to the empty room. ―Not when she's having company in a few hours. It would ruin her day.‖ When Camille came back, Kendra smiled, relieved to have found a way out of her dilemma. She'd just enjoy the day with her mother, something she hadn't done in a long time.

*** Kendra walked into the bedroom to find Sloan sleeping. She walked closer, stepping out of her shoes as she went. She smiled because he slept like a kid: on his back and spread out to encompass most of the bed. Love swamped her from just that one look, and she shivered. Getting into the bed, she lay flat on top of him, feeling cherished when, even in sleep, he lifted his arms to embrace her. She burrowed into him, burying her nose in the notch under his chin and taking in his unique scent. Closing her eyes, she rested her head on his chest and enjoyed just being in his presence. She knew he loved her and reveled in the fact, her mouth stretching into a contented smile, her arms tightening around him, and her toes curling into the mattress from the pure happiness she felt. She felt the emotion so powerfully that tears pricked the backs of her eyes. In that one perfect moment, she was overwhelmed by happiness and the knowledge that this man loved her deeply and unconditionally and had almost from the first moment they met. She raised her head to look at his face and felt the emotion deepen. Unable to keep it to herself, she urgently pressed her mouth to his, lifting her hands to hold his face. She felt his hands move to squeeze her behind and knew that he had awakened. She smiled into his eyes. ―I love you, Sloan,‖ she said before pressing her mouth back to his and easing her tongue into his mouth. She was unable to get enough of him, and she worshipped his body with hers, her hands sliding under his T-shirt to caress his skin, while her thighs widened around his. Kendra lifted

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her mouth to look at him again, and she pressed her finger against his lips when he would have spoken. ―Shh. Let me,‖ she said softly, almost desperately. ―Just…let me.‖ She felt his erection pulsing at the apex of her thighs and, with closed eyes, she sat up and rubbed her cleft against it as she took off her blouse and camisole. He gripped her hips and she gently pushed his hands away. ―Let me,‖ she said again and took his T-shirt over his head. Slowly she slid her torso down to his so that her nipples were buried in the hair on his chest. She took his mouth again, lovingly stroking his lips with hers while she continued to grind her mound against his cock. Kendra kissed and tongued him, finally taking his nipple in her mouth, and sucked it until they were both squirming with need. Bracing herself on his chest, she lifted up, pulled up her long skirt, and pushed her thong aside. She then pulled down his jogging pants and boxers and then she was feeling his erection…touching it. Gratefully she slowly began to take him into her body, her eyes once again closing in sheer joy and pleasure. She took her time riding him and savored every inch entering her. He brought his hands up to grip her hips, and this time she let him, bending down to drink from his mouth as familiar little explosions began to go off inside her. As if he knew what was going through her mind, Sloan didn't rush things and kept the pace slow, until they were both sweating from the effort. He lovingly kissed her, and Kendra shattered inside while her cries filled the room and her tears splashed onto his skin.

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Chapter Sixteen ―Are you all right?‖ Sloan asked a little later as he held Kendra in his arms. He'd felt the desperation in her lovemaking. Things must not have gone well at her mother's. Kendra didn't lift her head from his chest. ―Didn't you like my greeting?‖ ―I think what you just said is what is commonly known as an understatement,‖ he said through a yawn. She wasn't ready to talk about it, then. He'd get it out of her later. He pushed his boxers and pants completely off and closed his eyes, more than ready to go back to sleep. ―Did you make it to Mass today?‖ ―No,‖ he admitted. ―After I came back up from making sure you got off okay, I turned on the television while I made some breakfast, and I got snared by a Henry the Eighth marathon on the History Channel. After that I went out for a run, had some lunch, and took a walk around downtown. I couldn't resist the sunny weather after all the rain we've been having. How was your visit with your mom?‖ ―It went really well, but I haven't told her about my therapy yet,‖ she said as she ran her fingers through the hair on his chest. ―Today she hosted the monthly luncheon with her church group, and I didn't want to ruin her day, so I didn't say anything. I'll have to tell her on the telephone after all, because with our schedules, I don't know when I'll see her again.‖ Sloan's grunt was noncommittal. ―Did you bring me any food?‖ ―So I guess I'll call—‖ He felt her lift her head, and knew she was looking at him. ―What?‖ Sloan didn't open his eyes as he repeated his question. Kendra sounded confused as she asked for clarification, ―You're asking me about food?‖ ―Yes.‖ ―Is that all you've got to say?‖ ―Yes. Well, no, actually,‖ Sloan said sleepily. ―Did she make chocolate cake?‖ ―You have no comment about how I should have told my mother, regardless of who was coming over?‖ ―No.‖ ―Really,‖ she said in mock disbelief. ―And just why don't you?‖ Sloan finally opened his eyes. ―Because the deed is done—or in this case, the decision was made—and the opportunity has passed. I don't see how my saying anything could add anything useful to the situation. And besides, I agree with you. You shouldn't have told her and ruined her day. At this point, though, there's a bigger question that needs to be asked. Why should the fact that you're seeing a therapist ruin her day? Now,‖ he said and kissed her nose, ―what'd you bring me?‖

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―Roast beef, macaroni and cheese, sweet potatoes, green beans, salad, dinner rolls, and yellow cake with chocolate icing,‖ Kendra listed, frowning as she looked at him. ―You sound just like Dr. Pendegrast,‖ she said, moving as he made to get off the bed. ―Do I?‖ Sloan asked as he fished his boxers out of the sheets and pulled them on. ―Hmm. And I don't even have a degree in psychology. How about that?‖ He walked into the bathroom. Kendra followed him. ―So you blame my mother too?‖ She stood in the doorway with her arms crossed under her naked breasts. She knew she was spoiling for a fight, and that he didn't deserve one. But he was convenient. She knew it, and she wanted the fight anyway. Sloan looked over at her as he washed and then dried his hands. ―I didn't know psychologists actually placed blame on people, especially after only two sessions. Wow, she must really be perceptive.‖ ―It's not my mother's fault,‖ she insisted. ―Why don't you think it is?‖ ―Because.‖ ―Well, that was crystal clear.‖ Sloan walked over and took her shoulders in his hands. ―I don't want to argue about it, Ken. Really I don't. I think I've said all I can about the matter over the past couple of years.‖ Kendra scowled and moved into his arms. ―God, I hate it when you're so damned reasonable. It certainly takes the wind out of the sails.‖ ―We all have our strengths. I did want to ask you something, though.‖ ―What?‖ ―How do you think therapy is going so far? You've barely talked to me about it.‖ ―That's because I'm so angry and fed up when it's over that I don't want to think about it.‖ She was mumbling it to his chest, exhaustion dragging every word. ―Okay, I can understand that. But how do you think your sessions are going? What do you think of Dr. Pendegrast?‖ ―They're going okay,‖ she admitted reluctantly. ―It's good to be able to talk without feeling like I'm being judged.‖ ―Good. That's all I need to hear. Now,‖ he said as he lifted her on her toes and bent his head so he could nibble at a nipple. ―I'm hungry—for you and for food. Which one do you think I should I have first?‖

*** ―Thank you guys for driving me,‖ Kyle said as he retrieved his bags from the trunk of Sloan's car. ―You didn't have to, you know.‖ He turned to give Kendra a hug after setting his luggage on the ground. ―Of course we did,‖ Kendra contradicted him. ―And you'd better be back here in time for the wedding, or there'll be hell to pay.‖ Kyle laughed and released her. ―I believe you,‖ he assured her. ―Now pucker up and give me a good-bye kiss.‖

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Kendra kissed and hugged him one last time. ―I'll miss you, Kyle.‖ ―Right back at you.‖ Turning, he gave Sloan a hug as well. ―Be careful, Kyle,‖ Sloan said for his brother's ears only. ―I want you in one piece for my wedding.‖ ―No worries,‖ Kyle promised as he picked up his luggage. ―Keep in touch this time,‖ Kendra called after him as he walked toward the sliding-glass doors. ―I will.‖ ―You think he'll be okay?‖ she asked as they pulled away from the curb. ―I can only hope. Want to stop somewhere for lunch?‖ Sloan asked as he squinted his eyes against the sunlight. ―Sure. I can't believe Kyle was able to talk your parents out of seeing him off, especially your mom,‖ Kendra commented and leaned over to put his sunglasses on for him. ―Thanks,‖ Sloan said absently as he changed lanes. ―I don't know how he did it, but he did. I'm sure the fact that he spent his last couple of days with them didn't hurt.‖ ―Yeah. You know, I'd gotten used to having him around. I really am going to miss seeing him.‖ ―I'll miss him too. But I won't miss not having any privacy and not being free to make love to my prudish fiancée anytime I want to.‖ ―Whatever, and I'm not a prude. I've done stuff that you wouldn't even think of doing.‖ Sloan scoffed and turned into the parking lot of a roadside diner. ―When and where?‖ ―How soon we forget. What about the movie theater?‖ She took off her seat belt and opened her door. Sloan waited until he was out of the car and locking it before he answered her. ―That was a fluke. And just for the record, there's nothing you could think of that I haven't thought of at least a hundred times already—hell, that most men haven't already thought of.‖ Kendra's snort said that he was full of it. ―Oh really?‖ she asked as she walked through the door he held open for her. ―Really.‖ ―Just sit anywhere.‖ They looked over to see a waitress waving toward the dining area, which was sparse with diners. They found an empty booth and sat. ―Now, getting back to what I was saying,‖ Sloan began as he picked up the menu, ―most men are always thinking of when, where, and how we can have sex. It's just the nature of the beast. If a woman were to say to a man, 'Sweetie, I think I'd like to have sex in the middle of Times Square today,' the first thought that would come to his mind is: 'hallelujah, she's read my mind!'‖ Kendra's laughter came from behind her menu. ―Pig!‖ ―That may be, but I'm telling you the truth—‖ The waitress came over bearing glasses of water. After they'd placed their orders and she'd left, Sloan picked up where he'd left off. ―Very few women think like that.‖

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Kendra snorted. ―I'd wager there aren't that many men who think that way either.‖ ―You'd lose. Let me give you an example. A couple of months ago we were at the mall and you were trying on a pair of red shoes with these skinny, pointy heels. Remember?‖ Kendra nodded. ―You were playing around and teasing me, saying you'd never buy the shoes, but wouldn't they be fun for a costume party. Well, at one point, you'd stuck your leg out at me and turned your ankle just so. You'd looked up at me, and your eyes were laughing and your hair was sliding down your back, and all I wanted to do was take you against the wall—hard and fast. You were aware of it too, because you sort of froze and just looked at me.‖ Kendra remembered exactly what he was talking about. The air had been so suddenly charged with his lust that her nipples had actually puckered. ―I remember,‖ she whispered. ―Then the salesgirl came, and everything went back to normal.‖ Sloan leaned in urgently. ―But you wanted it just as much as I did,‖ he whispered hotly. ―If I had grabbed you and rushed you off to some secluded corner, in no time flat I could have had your panties down and your legs wrapped around my waist while I pushed my dick into that streaming-wet pussy of yours. You were so wet for me that I would have slid in easily. You were hot for it.‖ Her breath came choppy and fast, and Kendra squeezed her legs together under the table, trying to stem the hot rush of cream his words caused. She looked at him, knowing he was right. She wouldn't have let him take her against the wall, but she would have really wanted him to. She sighed, amazed at how just a few words from him had her practically dripping through her clothing. Her panties were definitely hot and damp. Sloan leaned back and drank from his glass. ―Anyway, I was still thinking about doing just that after the salesgirl left, but I could tell that the interruption had broken the spell for you, so I didn't bother suggesting it.‖ Kendra tried to concentrate on what he was saying, but couldn't. ―Excuse me for a moment,‖ she said as she tossed her napkin down. ―I have to visit the ladies' room.‖ Sloan looked at her and grinned. Kendra bared her teeth at him. ―Ass,‖ she said and rose from the table. His laughter followed her all the way into the bathroom. He was still smiling when she came back a short time later. ―Well?‖ he asked when she sat down. ―Well, what?‖ ―Did you make it all better? You should have asked me. I'd have followed you in and satisfied that little honey pot for you. Gladly.‖ Kendra stared at him with her mouth open. ―I didn't—You think I—In a public bathroom—‖ She clamped her lips shut for a moment and tried again. ―I went in to clean myself, Sloan!‖ she whispered. She didn't admit that touching the sensitized flesh between her legs even gently had made her bite back a moan. All she'd have needed to do was think of him and she'd have been fingering herself to completion in the stall. So she'd blocked him from her mind. ―Well, don't sound so shocked. Letting me have my way with you in a public bathroom would be exciting as hell, sweetheart. Think about it,‖ he began in a low voice. ―You get up first and walk into the ladies' room, looking over your shoulder the whole time to make sure no one is following you. I follow you a few minutes later, already hard as a rock from the excitement.

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―Once inside the bathroom, I would strip you out of those jeans and panties in two seconds—because remember, someone could try to come in at any time; that's what makes it even more exciting—and then I'd push you back against the door, where you'd spread those beautiful thighs of yours nice and wide for me. And you know me, I'd just have to have a little taste, so I'd get down on my knees, inhale that scent of yours for a second, and then I'd fuck you with my tongue for just a little while. Until I'd coaxed just enough of your delicious cream out to coat my tongue and slide down my throat. ―And I can just see you. You'd have your hand stuffed in your mouth to fight back the moans, while your neck arched and your head hit the door. At this point at least one of your legs would be wrapped around my neck while I worked two fingers, maybe three, inside your honey pot until you were coming so hard that my entire face would be covered in your juice.‖ Kendra was mesmerized by his seductive voice and silky words. She couldn't move as she stared at him, her legs automatically opening wide as she imagined him doing exactly what he was describing. Sloan continued, ―While you're still coming, I'd raise up and just plunge in, until you felt me knocking at your womb. You'd scream again, my total possession taking you over the edge, and I'd feed you a taste of yourself from my tongue while I rammed you back against the door until I was exploding inside you and you were erupting all around me, your juices gushing out to seep all over my dick.‖ Finally finished, Sloan picked up his glass and took a drink. Kendra drained her glass. She looked at him as she rose, watching as he pulled money from his wallet and put it on the table. She smiled. It was handy having a man who knew exactly what she was thinking. ―There's a hotel up the street,‖ she said and headed for the door. Sloan followed her out.

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Chapter Seventeen Sloan frowned as he listened to what he was being told via cell phone. ―No, you listen to me, Vernita,‖ he interrupted his friend at the state's attorney's office. ―I told you I only suspect who it is. I don't actually know. This is only a gut feeling—‖ ―What about your client? I can't believe you've only heard from her once.‖ ―Well, believe it. Mrs. Patterson is away on an extended cruise. Besides, I told you what she said.‖ Sloan ran fingers through his hair impatiently. ―I know you're doing me a huge favor by holding off, and I'm really grateful.‖ ―Yeah,‖ she said with her trademark sarcasm. ―It's so big, it's Dom- and caviar-worthy.‖ ―All right. Hint taken. I won't send you a case of Dom so you can get fired for accepting a bribe, but Kendra and I will have you, our friend, over for dinner really soon. Thank you, Vernita. I'll talk to you later.‖ Sloan clicked off. He was having no luck trying to get the thief to reveal him- or herself, as no one had taken anything from the trust since he'd instituted the policy of switching team members. It was frustrating and gratifying at the same time. He didn't want more money stolen, so his plan had worked, but it had also failed on another front. He'd truly thought that greed on the thief's part would make his plan to root out the thief by process of elimination easy. However, the thief had proved to be smart. Either he was biding his time, or he was finished stealing. Sloan leaned back tiredly in his chair and passed his hand over his face. There were six people at his firm who he viewed as suspects—too damned many. Hoping to somehow shorten the list, he grabbed a sheet of paper and wrote their names down: Eliza, Patrick, Ranya, Peter, Emily, and Donovan. He scratched the list out and reordered the names, listing them from the most likely to the least likely: Peter Ranya Emily Patrick, Donovan (tie) Eliza He scowled. That's what I think, anyway, and it's all based on my gut and what I wish, not anything factual, damn it. He was getting nowhere and felt like he was swimming in mud. The analogy made him think of his conversation with his scatterbrained yet adorable client, and he replayed that morning's cell-phone call in his head for what must have been at least the fifteenth time. ―Is this Sloan? Sloan Johnson?‖

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He'd strained to hear her frail voice through a bad connection. ―Mrs. Patterson? Is that you?‖ “Yes, dear. It's me. When I talked to my nephew, he told me that you've been trying to get in touch with me. Is something wrong?” “What? I'm having a hard time hearing you. Where are you?” “I'm sorry, dear. I'm on a cruise.” “What cruise? Which cruise line?” “Seven Seas Adventures. I'm on their extended cruise. Oh, it's just wonderful. I'm going around the world, hitting mostly all the seas—that's why it's called Seven Seas Adventures, you know. Of course everyone knows that there are more than seven, but you get the picture, don't you, dear?” “Yes, ma'am. How long does the cruise last?” “Six whole months! I just love it aboard ship. Why, I'm even thinking of buying a cabin, that way I could live on board and travel all year round. I had no idea a person could do such a thing! Did you, dear?” Live on board? That had been surprising. Mr. Patterson had always talked of how it had been difficult to get her to leave Chicago. What the hell had been going on? Sloan had focused on her question. ―Yes, Mrs. Patterson, I did—‖ ―You did? Well, I'm not surprised. You're such a smart boy after all, and you take such good care of Terrence's money and me. If I come back, I'm going to bake you a 7-Up cake to have all to yourself. I know how much you love my 7-Up cake, and—‖ Eyes closed, Sloan had frowned and pinched the bridge of his is nose in frustration. As usual, the woman's conversation had flown in fifty directions. ―Thank you. Listen, are you sure you want to live on board? I—‖ ―Isn't the idea just lovely? Of course seasickness could be a problem, though I've not gotten a bit sick since I've been on board. That's a lucky thing, because we're going all over the place, and I wouldn't want to miss a single thing! We're stopping in ports along all the major oceans—the Atlantic, Mediterranean, Arctic, Indian—‖ Sloan had released the bridge of his nose, opened his eyes, and sat up straight in his chair. “Indian? You're sailing to the Indian Ocean?” “Oh my, yes. That's a well-known one, and we're sailing all of those.” “But what about pirates, Mrs. Patterson?” “What about them, dear? I haven't seen any, but I think they might be a fun part of the entertainment the ship provides. I'll have to check and see if pirates are on the agenda. Oh, you should take time from your busy schedule and bring your fiancée on the cruise. It's simply delightful! I'm having the time of my life. There's an activity to do every hour on the hour…” Sloan had shut his eyes again and waited for her to finish naming all of the shipboard activities. ―That sounds great, Mrs. Patterson, but I meant real pirates. You know the ones—they plunder and rampage?‖ Her gasp had been clearly scandalized, even with the bad connection. ―Oh, I don't think the ship offers that kind, dear. That would be dangerous, don't you think? Anyway, I've got pilates for partners in a few minutes, and that handsome Mr. Cooke is joining me. What can I do for you?‖

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Sloan had given up on trying to make her understand about pirates and had hoped the cruise line knew what the hell it was doing and kept its ships away from dangerous waters. He'd told Mrs. Patterson the news about the trust. “You mean someone has been taking the money my Terrence worked so hard for and left for me?” “Yes, and I'm really sorry.” “Is all of it gone?” “No, ma'am, but a quarter of a million of it is. I've taken measures so no more is stolen, but if you want to put a freeze on the trust and begin the process to have me taken off as trustee, I'll understand.” “Of course I don't want you to put a freeze on the trust, Sloan. Why, if you do, how will I get my money? Let's not be foolish, young man. And as for your being replaced as trustee, are you saying that you took my money, dear?” “No, Mrs. Patterson, I did not steal your money. Someone in my firm did.” “And what are you doing about it?” ―My absolute best to find out who the thief is and have them prosecuted.‖ He had explained about the involvement of the FBI and the Cook County State's Attorney's Office. ―I could let them take completely over if you'd like.‖ “Is that what you want to do, Sloan?” “No, ma'am; it's not.” “Well then, I'll leave it all in your capable hands, and besides, you put a stop to it before they could take more than the fraction they did get.” The statement had made Sloan roll his eyes and wish he had been able to think of a quarter of a million dollars as a mere fraction. He'd had to replace the missing money and the blow to the firm's bank account had given proof to his pain. He'd tuned back into what Mrs. Patterson was saying. ―My Terrence trusted you, and that's good enough for me,‖ she had declared. ―And don't you worry one little bit about your reputation either. I won't tell a soul about this little peccadillo.‖ The phone conversation had triggered suspicion, and he'd called Connor and invited him to lunch to discuss an idea. Sloan looked at his watch. He'd be late if he didn't get a move on. He grabbed his suit jacket from the back of his chair, slipped it on, and left his office, closing the door behind him. ―I'll be back in about an hour and a half,‖ he told Eliza. ―Hold my calls.‖ Eliza looked up from her computer and smiled. ―Will do. You look pretty churned up, boss. Everything okay?‖ He smiled vaguely at her but didn't answer. As he walked down the long hall to reception, Sloan was unable to prevent a spurt of pride from coming through. He had half the top floor of a twenty-two-story building in the middle of Chicago's bustling downtown business community. He'd worked hard for every inch of the space, and there was no way he'd let a thief endanger that. He rounded the corner and noticed Donovan and Patrick in close conversation. As he drew closer, the conversation abruptly ended.

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―Hey, Sloan,‖ Donovan said heartily. Maybe a little too heartily, Sloan thought. ―What's up, man?‖ ―Donovan, Patrick,‖ Sloan said with a nod toward each as he barely slowed his stride. ―How's it going?‖ ―Fine, fine,‖ Patrick said. ―I'm still waiting for you and that tennis demon you call a fiancée to accept my invitation for a doubles rematch.‖ ―Just set the date. We're ready to whip your ass at your leisure—yours and your current girlfriend's, whoever she might be,‖ Sloan said. Donovan guffawed. ―Aw, man, that's cold.‖ ―Cold but true,‖ Patrick agreed with a shrug and smoothed his artfully styled blond hair. ―It's a known fact that the ladies love Patrick.‖ Sloan snorted. ―Get back to work,‖ he told them and continued on to the elevator. As he did, he felt them watching him until he was out of their line of vision.

*** ―It's about time,‖ Sloan commented when Connor joined him at his reserved table twenty minutes later. ―Hey, I work for the man, not myself,‖ Connor said and slid into his chair. ―I can't just leave work on my desk whenever I feel like it.‖ ―Neither can I,‖ Sloan said tiredly. People always assumed having his own business meant that things were easier. ―And you wouldn't be able to if you came to my firm either.‖ Connor shook his head. They'd had this discussion before. ―I told you I'm thinking about it. I like my work at L and H.‖ Sloan perused his menu. ―You're wasted over there. I hope you're not holding out for more money, because while I'd like to have you at the firm, I won't bankrupt myself. Greedy bastard,‖ he muttered. Connor only smiled. ―Your words are just a variation on a very old theme, man. And I know my worth, cheap-ass American white boy, and I won't be cheated.‖ Sloan laughed and, signaling the waiter, put his menu down. Connor, a first-generation Chinese-American, had called Sloan ―American white boy‖ since day one in law school. He'd picked up the term from his parents and grandparents, who had immigrated to Chicago in the early 1960s. ―So, though I'm flattered, you didn't invite me to lunch to try to persuade me to join your firm. Tell me what Mrs. Patterson said,‖ Connor insisted once the waiter had gone. ―The whole thing is suspicious,‖ Sloan concluded, once he'd relayed the conversation. ―Hmm. Let's see if we're on the same page. What's suspicious about it?‖ ―The fact that she's on this extended cruise at the same time that money's gone missing from the trust. It's pretty convenient, since it's difficult for me to get in contact with her. And she was just so blasé about the missing money. Most people would be on their way home by now, and not only would they have demanded that I be relieved of my duties, but they also would have demanded that the theft be reported. Hell, they'd do it themselves. But Mrs. Patterson did neither.‖

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―Let me play devil's advocate for a minute and say, yes, that's what you would do,‖ Connor said. ―But from everything you've told me about Mrs. Patterson, she's not like most people. She sounds like a dink—a naive one.‖ ―Yes, she is naive generally, but this is her money. She's always been sophisticated about her money.‖ ―So what are you thinking?‖ Connor made it a point never to rush into anything, and Sloan knew it. Sloan sighed impatiently. ―I'm thinking the same thing you're thinking—that she might be dead.‖ Connor took a slow sip of his coffee before putting the cup back down. ―What makes you say that?‖ ―Because she's all of a sudden contemplating moving aboard a cruise ship, and she's on a six-month cruise when her husband used to complain about how much she hated to travel. All of this makes her suddenly unavailable to discuss the trust, and her nephew, Barlow Sims, is being difficult when it comes to helping me get in contact with her. I've been trying since I found out about the theft, and I just heard from her today. Surely he's talked to her several times since my first request. I also say that because the missing money barely registered a blip on her radar, and that's unusual. And finally I say that because, damn it, I just don't like or trust the nephew. I never have.‖ ―So…I take it you think the nephew is involved.‖ ―Yes. Either Barlow killed her, or she died naturally. Either way, hiding it means he gets access to the Patterson money, which he's wanted since Terrence made his first million.‖ ―Won't he get it when she dies anyway?‖ ―No,‖ Sloan returned. ―Terrence's wishes were very clear. He didn't want Barlow to get one cent of his money after he died. Terrence hated him, said he was a greedy, lazy, manipulative, no-good punk. Terrence knew he wouldn't be able to keep Mrs. Patterson from giving Barlow—her only living relative whom she couldn't love more if he were her own child— money after he died, but he made sure the guy wouldn't get it after she died. Once she dies, what's left of the money will be split among various organizations like hers and Terrence's college alma mater, the United Negro College Fund, and the United Way. The nephew gets nothing.‖ ―Okay, so the nephew has motive. But let's say he couldn't put you in touch with her because she's not keeping in touch with him. A lot of people like to just forget about their regular lives when they're on vacation, and they deliberately stay out of touch.‖ ―Not for this long, and not Mrs. Patterson,‖ Sloan countered. ―The woman's a first-class nurturer from way back. She'd call just to check on him to see if he was eating right or getting enough rest. She wouldn't be able to help herself.‖ ―All right. Say the nephew did kill her. How does that explain the theft from the trust?‖ ―I don't know for sure, but I think that he's stealing as much as he can before somebody realizes that Mrs. Patterson is dead. Laying the groundwork now for her possibly moving permanently on board the ship could help him steal from the trust indefinitely. I mean, think about it. When you live on a cruise ship, you never come home. I think he came up with this plan and is working with someone in my firm to pull it off.‖ ―Any idea yet who that might be?‖

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Sloan shook his head no in renewed frustration. ―No, not yet. I've got to figure out another way to trip that particular thief up.‖ ―And if all of this is true,‖ Connor conjectured, ―who the hell did you talk to on the phone this morning if not Mrs. Patterson?‖ ―An actress or one of the nephew's friends, I guess. The connection was really bad— something I think was done deliberately.‖ ―Maybe her nephew isn't involved at all. Maybe the thief in your camp arranged to have the call made.‖ ―I haven't told anyone in my firm that I've been trying to contact her, so if the thief does know, it's because Barlow told him, or her. I guess if the thief in my office is working alone, he—or she—could have logically concluded that I'd want to contact Mrs. Patterson about the theft, but why arrange for the phone call at all if they're not working with Barlow? If the thief from my office is working alone, he or she would have no need to kill Mrs. Patterson, and if Mrs. Patterson has died of natural causes, the thief wouldn't know that. No, that scenario only works if Barlow is involved. No matter how I look at it, it goes back to Barlow.‖ ―Or,‖ Connor said drily, ―Mrs. Patterson could be on the high seas enjoying some sun, and your imagination is running on overdrive. Hold on.‖ He held up a hand when Sloan started to speak. ―That isn't to say that the whole thing doesn't stink of something fishy. Talk about talent being wasted. You should have been an agent. Your suspicious mind would have fit in perfectly at the bureau. What do you want me to do?‖ ―I want you to use your contacts to get me proof that she's on that cruise.‖

*** ―I thought you said you were going to arrange that phone call.‖ Barlow Sims listened to the soft, whiny—and ultimately accusatory—voice and wanted to wrap his fingers around his lover's throat. He wanted to squeeze that throat, robbing it of all ability to make a sound. Instead he made his voice soothing. ―I did. The call to Sloan's office was made at eleven forty-five this morning, just as promised. You sound worried again,‖ he chided. ―What's the matter, love?‖ ―It's just that when I saw Sloan, he didn't look any more relaxed than he has since he found out about the missing money. And when I saw him, it had to be almost immediately after that call. I don't think I've ever seen him less relaxed.‖ Barlow scowled and let his impatience show. Fuck the soothing bullshit and fragile egos. Barlow Sims will not tolerate slippery conclusions drawn from anything less than solid evidence. ―Don't be stupid! He could have been in a bad mood because of a case or a problem in his personal life. It could have been anything! Stop jumping to conclusions just because you're afraid—I'm sorry, I'm sorry.‖ He backtracked hurriedly when he saw the hurt in his lover's eyes. ―I'm just nervous like you are baby,‖ he said with a soft kiss. ―You know how bad I get when I'm nervous. Now, come,‖ he cajoled as he walked backward toward his bedroom. ―I've been a bad boy, and you know bad boys always have to be punished.‖ ―But what if Sloan finds out it's us?‖ ―He won't, sweetheart,‖ Barlow said with full confidence. He dropped his pants and underwear to reveal a rock-hard erection. ―But if he does…well, then you'll just have to let me take care of him. I'm your man, and it's my job to take care of you, right?‖ He sat down on the

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edge of his bed. ―Now climb up here and fuck me,‖ he demanded, patting his lap and watching slyly as uncontrollable desire asserted itself. It was there in his accomplice's dilated eyes and choppy breathing. Barlow whimpered as clothes came off hastily in the name of lust. ―That's it, baby. ―Now climb in Daddy's lap,‖ he demanded and fell back on the bed in rapture when his dick slid easily into moist, wet heat. ―Oh fuck me!‖ he yelled and came instantly. Power and domination always did that to him.

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Chapter Eighteen ―So, Kendra, how are things between you and your mother?‖ Dr. Pendegrast asked. ―They're no better than they were last week or the week before that,‖ Kendra answered. ―How does that make you feel?‖ ―I don't know. Sometimes I think that it shouldn't matter so much.‖ ―And other times?‖ ―Other times I'm not surprised. I know my mother. I should have known that this would happen, so I can't really blame her.‖ ―What do you mean?‖ ―I mean that it should come as no surprise to me that she's disappointed and mad. After all, she's the one who raised me, and she did a good job. Why should I need therapy?‖ ―Complete this thought for me, Kendra. I want you to say the first thing that comes to your mind after I say this. Maybe my mother is upset because if I need therapy, then…‖ ―It makes her look like she wasn't a good mother,‖ Kendra finished before she really thought about it. Overwhelming guilt immediately followed. Dr. Pendegrast remained quiet, and Kendra imagined she could hear the other woman's patience in the silence. ―So,‖ Kendra said finally. ―What does this mean? Does this mean that everything is my mother's fault?‖ ―That's something for you to decide, Kendra. And it means that you have something more to think about.‖

*** Camille painted her last toenail and jerked to grip the slipping telephone receiver between her face and shoulder. ―Sorry about that, Myrtle,‖ she said ―I'm polishing my toenails, and the phone slipped.‖ She tightened the cap on the bottle. ―There. Now what were you saying?‖ ―I was saying that the luncheon ladies ought to consider going to Connecticut or Maine or even New Hampshire for our autumn trip. The leaves up there turn really beautiful.‖ ―Um-hmm,‖ Camille said as she flipped through television channels. ―The leaves in Michigan are beautiful too, and we won't have to spend as much money to see them. We could drive there, and that will be a lot cheaper than flying to the Northeast and—‖ ―Yes, I know, but we always go to Michigan. I, for one, would like to go someplace different this year.‖ ―That's a fine attitude to have, if you've got the money. I know I don't want to spend that much, because it will be just after Kendra's wedding.‖ ―Yes, but you said that Kendra wouldn't let you pay for the wedding. You bragged about it.‖

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―Myrtle Washington, I did no such thing! I only said that Kendra wouldn't take any of my money because she's doing so well—‖ Camille cut herself off, realizing that she was even bragging at that moment. ―See, I told you. But that's okay, because it's all right to brag when a child is doing as well as Kendra is doing. It's practically written that you're supposed to. Just don't do it too much.‖ ―I guess you're right.‖ ―Besides, you should be proud of Kendra. That child has come a long way.‖ ―What's that supposed to mean?‖ ―Now don't go getting your back up, Camille. I'm only saying that after all she's been through—especially that year Cedric left you two—Kendra's done well for herself.‖ ―I don't know what you mean,‖ Camille insisted stiffly and listened to the silence. ―Myrtle, I'm sorry. It's just that I've been touchy about everything having to do with Kendra lately.‖ ―What do you mean?‖ Camille debated and then decided to give in. She needed to tell someone. ―You're my oldest friend and one of the few people who know all the details about Kendra's and my life, so I'm going to trust you. Kendra is in therapy. For some reason that is unclear to me, she's decided that she needs it.‖ Myrtle cleared her throat, and when she spoke, her words came out cautiously. ―Well, did she say why?‖ ―Some mess about unfairly distrusting her fiancé and needing to get it cleared away before they get married. I'm sure he's the one who talked her into this whole therapy thing. If you ask me, any woman who distrusts a man is a smart woman.‖ ―Now, Camille, I told you years ago that you need to stop being like that. Just like I told you not to fill Kendra's head with that stuff in the first place.‖ Camille was quiet for long moments before saying, ―I've got to go, Myr—‖ ―Oh, no, you don't. I'm not finished. Like you said, we've been friends for a long time, so I should be able to tell you the truth. You need to let that girl move on with her life. Every man she meets is not going to be like Cedric.‖ ―I'm going to hang up now, Myrtle.‖ ―Just stop it, will you? For once you're going to listen to someone about this whole sorry situation. When Cedric left you, you acted like your life was over. You stopped enjoying yourself, and what's worse is that you took that precious little girl of yours and filled her impressionable mind with your bitterness.‖ ―Are you finished?‖ Camille asked angrily. ―No, not quite. You were almost as bad as Cedric—‖ ―Excuse me!‖ Outraged, Camille took the receiver from her ear, looking at it as if it were a snake about to strike. She took a deep breath and put it back to her ear because she felt she needed clarification. ―What did you say?‖ ―You heard me. I've been biting my tongue on this for twenty years, actually for longer than that if you'd care to get precise about it. Before Cedric left for good, you were acting like a woman who had lost her mind. I can remember coming over to your house more than once when Kendra was a little bitty thing, because you couldn't press yourself to take care of her.

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―So get snippy with me all you want, but I'm going to say what needs to be said. Kendra almost didn't stand a chance. She had a rootless father who cared more about seeing what was over the next horizon than he did about raising a child; and she had a mother who nursed her anger like a second child, so much so that sometimes there wasn't room for the living, breathing child who needed her. Both you and Cedric are guilty of letting her down—you just didn't do it to the extent that he did.‖ Camille rubbed her head in agitation. She was flabbergasted, but she was more hurt than anything, and when she spoke, her voice was choked. ―How can you say those things? I love Kendra. I told her the truth, and I did it to help her. I'm the one who raised her. Me! I did it all by myself, without the help of her worthless father. Where was he when she needed braces, dance lessons, violin lessons? Was he at your house? Because he certainly wasn't at mine. Where was he when she broke her arm? He could have been on the next block, and I wouldn't have known it! I did it all, Myrtle, and I resent like hell that you would even think to compare me to him!‖ ―Calm down, Camille. I don't want to get you upset, but you've just proven my point. You're still so mad at Cedric that right now, twenty years later, you're comparing yourself to him.‖ ―That's because you did. And Kendra didn't stop needing or wanting things the day Cedric walked out the door, so you can throw that twenty-years-later stuff out the window. I had to raise her by myself on a teacher's salary. Life did go on, you know.‖ ―Exactly. Life goes on. But in some aspects, yours didn't. And in a lot of ways, you're trying to prevent Kendra's from going on as well. It isn't fair to her. She's found happiness with a man she loves. What's wrong with her doing something that will help her to keep that happiness and the man? Don't you think she deserves them, Camille?‖ It was on the tip of Camille's tongue to say that she herself didn't have it and she was just fine, but instead she said, ―The girl doesn't need therapy. It's just a waste of time and money.‖ She rolled her eyes when she heard Myrtle sigh. ―Obviously Kendra doesn't think so, and I wish that was all that mattered to her. It's too bad your opinion matters so much to her in this instance. I mean, realizing she needed therapy was probably hard enough, but to have your disapproval must make the whole thing horrible.‖ ―My opinion should matter to her. I'm her mother.‖ ―That's right. You're her mother, Camille, so act like it. You know what the Bible says about pride.‖ ―I don't need you to tell me my Bible,‖ Camille said indignantly. ―And I don't need you to tell me how to deal with Kendra. She's my daughter. I'll talk to you later.‖ She hung up the phone before getting a reply. ―She's got some nerve,‖ Camille muttered as she got rid of her toe separators and stood. ―As if she knows anything. She barely even hears from her own kids, and she's trying to tell me about my relationship with my daughter. I like that.‖ She walked down the stairs to her small kitchen and tried not to cry when she was reminded of the last time Kendra had been over. Things were pretty tense between the two of them now, and even when they talked on the phone, one or the other of them hurried to get off. She knew that Kendra only called now out of responsibility. It wasn't as if she actually wanted to talk to her.

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Camille put the kettle on for tea and sat at the table to wait for the water to boil, thinking about the Fourth of July and how for the first time in years she'd not been with Kendra. Over the past few years, Camille had gotten used to spending the holiday with Sloan's family, and before Kendra had started seeing Sloan, they'd just spend the holiday with one of their neighbors. Camille had stopped doing all the hoopla—the decorations, the grilling out, the fireworks— herself in Kendra's late teens. Kendra had invited Camille to Sloan's parents' house again this year, but Camille had passed. She'd only gone before because it meant so much to Kendra that she get to know Sloan's family. The kettle whistled, and Camille rose to remove it from the fire and pour the boiling water over her tea bag. ―I just don't understand why she's doing this,‖ she mumbled as she sat back down. Sipping the tea, Camille thought about Kendra's calling to tell her she was in therapy. She'd called only hours after they'd spent the day together. “Hi, Mom.” “Hi, Kendra. What's up? Did you leave something behind?” “No, um…do you still have company?” “No, the girls left hours ago. What is it, honey? How bad is it? What do you want to tell me?” “How do you know that there's something to tell?” “Because you've been nervous about it all day, Kendra. Just tell me what it is. Is everything okay?” “Yes, everything is fine. I just wanted to tell you that I've started getting therapy.” “Therapy? Why on earth are you getting therapy?” “Well, I just feel that I need it. I need it to get rid of the trust issues I've been carrying around my whole life.” “What trust issues?” “You know what I'm talking about, Mom. I don't trust men because of what Dad did. The situation has spilled over into my relationship with Sloan and—” Camille had eagerly pounced on what she'd viewed as damning evidence. “I knew it! I knew that he had something to do with this. What did he do? Tell you he wouldn't marry you unless you got therapy? Listen to me, baby. You don't need therapy. You're fine, and if he can't see that, then you don't need to be with him.” “It wasn't his idea, Mom. It was mine, and I've already started it. I know I need some kind of help, because what I've been doing hasn't worked. I distrust Sloan, and he's given me no reason to. It's unfair to him.” Camille had closed her eyes as defeat coursed through her. She hadn't hid her disappointment. “You don't need therapy, Kendra, and that's all I've got to say on the matter. But you do what you want. I'll talk to you later.” Camille had hung up the phone without saying good-bye or her usual ―I love you,‖ and things had been strained between the two of them since. Camille missed her daughter. She hoped

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that Kendra would come to her senses, because she didn't like missing out on her life. She knew a little bit about how the wedding plans were going, but Kendra never really went into any detail. ―I suppose it's punishment because she doesn't think I should be mad,‖ she muttered. ―But I'm right. No child of mine needs therapy.‖

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Chapter Nineteen In grateful relief, Sloan lifted his face to the breeze that blew off Lake Michigan. It was late July, so that meant that he was miserably hot. He turned back to tend to burgers on the grill that he'd brought and set up along with his tent and lawn chairs. It was barely ten thirty in the morning, and he and most of his family had been settled on the prime piece of green real estate between the Shedd Aquarium and the lake since eight. In his opinion, they had the best spot to be had for Venetian Night. The parade wouldn't start until eight thirty that night, but it was the early bird who got the worm when it came to big summer events in Chicago. So every year Sloan and his family got up early and pitched a tent at least twelve hours in advance for the spectacular show in which boat owners sailed their decorated boats, to the delight of lakeside audiences. Each boat was decorated according to the owner's interpretation of the theme the city had dreamed up. When the family had arrived, things were pretty quiet, but two and a half hours later, Sloan could already see that latecomers would be lucky to get a place to stand to see the boat show. He flipped another burger on the grill and turned slowly at the sound of a speedboat on Lake Michigan. He squinted in admiration behind his sunglasses. ―One day soon,‖ he said aloud and turned back to his grill. ―One day soon what?‖ Sloan looked up to see Connor walking toward him, carrying a huge cooler. ―Is there wine in there?‖ he asked. ―Red and white. I also brought wine coolers for the wussies and beer for those of us who like a real drink.‖ ―All I care about is the wine. Amy wouldn't shut up about it, and Mom…well, let's just say Mom is a lot nicer when she's not disappointed.‖ ―You're lucky you caught me before I got onto Lake Shore Drive, because once I'm on it, there's no getting off until I see my exit.‖ Connor put the cooler down in the lone empty corner of the large blue-and-white-striped tent. ―I don't know how you could have forgotten the alcohol, especially the wine,‖ he said with a pitying shake of his head. ―It should be common sense by now. Every Venetian Night your mother looks forward to her single glass of white wine as she watches the fireworks. Even I know that, and I'm not a member of the family.‖ ―You don't want to remind me of your lack of familial ties right now, Connor,‖ Sloan said as he shooed a fly away. ―It's only the blood tie that's keeping me from murdering several members of my family.‖ ―What happened?‖ ―I'm just annoyed; that's all. Work has been crazy, wedding stuff has been picking up, and then today I had to come here in the hot sun and cook, and all I hear are complaints. Thank God

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they all went to the museum campus,‖ he finished. The museum campus, comprising the Shedd Aquarium, the Field Museum, and the Adler, was one of the city's more-popular attractions. Connor looked toward the campus and shook his head. ―I don't know what makes them do it every year. Did they go to the Shedd this year? The place has got to be filled to bursting with sweaty tourists and visitors.‖ ―Yeah. The kids were really excited.‖ ―Anyway,‖ Connor began as he twisted the cap off a bottle of water, ―speaking of your work, I'm sorry it's taking so long to get further confirmation regarding Mrs. Patterson's being on that cruise. I'm sure you can imagine that global red tape is even slower to unravel than the normal shit.‖ ―It's all right,‖ Sloan told him. Connor was trying to get him a copy of the ship's manifest, which would list Mrs. Patterson as a passenger if she were on board. Sloan also wanted further proof in the form of a picture of his client on the ship. Connor was working through his contacts, but it was a complicated process. ―Don't worry about it. I'm not—Not today.‖ ―I hear you,‖ Connor agreed. ―What did you mean when you said one day soon?‖ ―Oh, I was talking about owning a boat. Once we've settled in after the wedding and our finances are in order, I'm going to buy a boat,‖ Sloan said with satisfaction. ―I've got it all planned out. I'd like to moor it at Belmont, Burnham, or Diversey Harbor.‖ ―Yeah? What kind? Speedboat? Sailboat?‖ Connor took a sip from his bottle of water and smirked. ―Raft?‖ ―Not smart to make sarcastic remarks to the chef, Connor—especially when he's the one who determines if you'll get Kobe beef or just plain old ground chuck.‖ Sloan shook his head. ―Not exactly a move I'd expect from the law-school class valedictorian.‖ ―I'm still smarter than your American, white-boy, salutatorian ass,‖ Connor said as he began walking away. ―I'm going to the can.‖ Sloan grinned and grabbed a bottle of water. ―Daydreaming?‖ Connor's smooth voice asked from behind him a little later, causing Sloan to jerk around in surprise. ―God, I don't know how you're always able to sneak up on me like that. I didn't hear you at all,‖ Sloan complained and waited for a response that never came. Connor just looked at him, his face completely expressionless. ―Ah, so it's the Mysterious Mr. Chang who's come out to play today, huh?‖ Again, he got no answer, just a sardonic lift of one straight black brow. Sloan shook his head and turned back to the grill. ―I don't know why I put up with your weird ass, man,‖ he said and started taking off burgers. ―'Cause I'm one of only a few who will put up with your shit; that's why,‖ Connor said. ―So how's Kyle doing? Everything going okay in Tahoe?‖ ―As far as I know. I've only talked to him twice since he left, and that's only been when we've been lucky enough to reach him on his cell.‖ ―Did he decide to work with the FBI?‖ ―Yeah, I think so. He doesn't talk much about it. All he talks about is the money he lost in that big poker game. He was eliminated pretty early. He thinks someone cheated.‖ ―Is he that big a loser that he would accuse someone of cheating when things don't go his way?‖

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―That's just it,‖ Sloan said. ―The few times he's ever lost at anything, Kyle has always lost gracefully. He says something was off that night, and it wasn't him—says that nothing felt right from the moment he sat down.‖ ―So why did he play? I would have thought a guy like him would always rely on his instincts.‖ ―He usually does. But you know how it goes. Even when it doesn't feel right, if something is really important to you, you convince yourself that everything is okay. So he sat down and lost his money. He feels like he's been swindled.‖ ―So what's he going to do about it?‖ ―Nothing. What can he do but chalk it up as a loss? A very costly one, but hey.‖ Sloan shrugged. ―Live and learn.‖ ―I'm not so sure Kyle would have that attitude about the whole thing.‖ ―Normally he would. You know how Kyle is. You win some; you lose some. But this time it was a little more difficult for him to take that attitude because he really needed this money to get his company started.‖ ―Just how much did he lose?‖ ―Twenty-five thousand.‖ Connor's whistle was long and disbelieving. ―Damn, that's quite a bit. Has he any idea how he's going to recoup his losses?‖ Sloan shrugged again. ―Like I said, you know Kyle. He always has an idea. I don't know what it is, but I'm sure I'll hear about it soon enough.‖ ―So is he planning on starting the company here, or does he want to stay in Lake Tahoe?‖ ―He likes the West Coast—claims that even as a born-and-bred Chicagoan, the winter weather here is too much on his delicate skin.‖ ―Really? So will it be Tahoe or somewhere else?‖ Sloan frowned. ―Why all the questions about Kyle? The FBI still want you to find out what he's doing about that crook in Tahoe?‖ He and Kyle had known about the FBI's contacting Connor regarding Kyle almost from the moment it had occurred. The FBI had contacted Connor because of his ties to the Johnson family, and as Kyle was being difficult, they'd wanted Connor's take on him. ―Nah, they already know he's working it. They just want him to stop being a lone wolf and join the pack, so to speak, before he gets hurt.‖ Connor's tone was flat and serious, and Sloan turned to look at him in question. ―The next time you talk to your brother, tell him he'd be smart to bring the agent who contacted him into his confidence, and therefore have her watching his back. Things are looking ugly.‖ ―What do you know?‖ ―That's it,‖ Connor promised. ―Just urge him to throw his lot in with theirs. The sooner the better.‖ ―All right,‖ Sloan said with a slow nod. ―I'll do that.‖ ―Anyway,‖ Connor said as Sloan turned back to his burgers. ―I'm wondering if Kyle will be here to throw the bachelor party, or if I should be the one making plans to spend all my

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money on strippers, call girls, buffalo wings, and beer,‖ he finished, dispelling the tension in the air. Sloan laughed. ―Don't worry. Kyle will be here, and like I told him: no strippers and no call girls.‖ ―No, I don't suppose Kendra would appreciate that.‖ ―Nah. You know her; she has the ridiculous notion that just because I'm marrying her, I should steer clear of other women.‖ ―Why, that's just crazy talk,‖ Connor said. ―But anyway, Kyle will be here. I'm not worried.‖ ―What about Kendra? Is she worried? The wedding's pretty damned close, right?‖ ―Don't remind me. We still have so much to do. But in answer to your question, Kendra isn't worried about Kyle. She's got other things on her mind.‖ ―Oh, you mean that whole deal with her mother, right?‖ ―Yeah. Camille has been really standoffish since Kendra told her she was getting therapy. We've barely seen her since the big announcement.‖ ―I'll bet that makes you happy. You don't have to put up with her crap.‖ ―You would think that, wouldn't you?‖ Sloan commented. ―But Kendra's so unhappy with the rift that I can't enjoy the benefits.‖ ―Well, at least therapy is going well, right? That's one good thing—the most important thing to come out of this.‖ ―Yep. Burgers are done. Want one?‖ Connor looked at his watch. ―It's eleven o'clock.‖ Sloan looked at him for a long moment. ―I'm waiting for your point.‖ ―It's eleven, and I haven't had breakfast yet. Can I have two?‖ ―Help yourself.‖ After sitting down in his lawn chair, Sloan took a big, satisfying bite out of his burger. ―Who's all here, and how long have they been at the museum?‖ Connor sat next to him in another lawn chair. Both men wore their dark sunglasses to fight the glare bouncing off the lake. ―A couple of people from my office are expected to arrive a little later, but for now the usual suspects are here—Mom, Dad, Amy and her brood, and Kendra of course. Mozell came along too.‖ ―Really?‖ ―Yeah.‖ ―Good.‖ There was too much satisfaction in that one word for Sloan to ignore. He kept his eyes on the lake and his mind on his burger but asked, ―Attracted to the tall, thin one, are you?‖ ―Yep.‖ ―Not your usual type.‖ ―Nope. Usually like them short with some heft.‖ ―How does she feel about it?‖

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―Antsy,‖ came the reply after a short silence. ―Antsy and nervous. It's perfect.‖ ―Good combination,‖ Sloan confirmed as he polished off his food. ―I remember how you had to basically chase Kendra down, but this is different,‖ Connor said. ―Ms. Reese and I have more of a combative relationship. She's attracted to me and doesn't want to be, because I annoy her.‖ ―And what are you doing about it?‖ Sloan asked. ―Everything I can think of to irritate her even more,‖ Connor replied without hesitation. ―Good strategy.‖ Sloan stared at another powerboat on the lake. ―Hi, boys!‖ Sloan and Connor turned to see Kendra and Mozell strolling over. Kendra wore a light blue sundress that floated around her knees and a sun hat with a light blue band. As he watched her laugh while she walked gracefully toward him, a sudden happiness filled Sloan so fiercely that he felt light-headed. Here we go again. Though it happened often, he still couldn't explain it, other than to say that he simply went loopy with love. Sometimes all Kendra had to do was walk into a room, and bam, love overtook him so quickly that he felt breathless just looking at her. Saying nothing, he rose and met her, taking her hands in his and lifting her arms to wrap them around his neck. He bent his head to kiss her, smiling because he knew she would be a bit embarrassed at the public display but still kiss him back. A line from one of his favorite Stevie Wonder songs eased its way into his head, and he picked up the melody, softly singing the words against her smiling lips, ―I was made to love her, worship and adore her…‖

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Chapter Twenty Barefoot, Kendra walked into the living room and sat on the couch, then folded her legs beneath her. Unable to stop laughing at Sloan, she shook her head. ―So you're trying to tell me that your client—a man who runs a multimillion-dollar company—actually told you that he believes that he's the spawn of aliens?‖ When Sloan nodded and sat next to her, she snorted and said, ―I don't know if I should believe you or not. You're such a clown sometimes; it's difficult to tell when you're serious.‖ Sloan laughed and stretched out to lay his head on her thighs, which were bared by what he liked to call her ―getting Sloan ready‖ shorts, because they were cut off so high and were so threadbare that he could see her butt if he looked closely enough. She only wore them around the house, and tonight she'd paired them with one of his old T-shirts. ―Well, this clown is off duty tonight, and I'm not making it up. Not only is he the son of aliens, but they'll be back to pick him up once he's completed his mission here. Ahhh,‖ he said with closed eyes when she started taking her fingers slowly through his hair. ―That feels good. What should we do on this, our one free night in what seems like forever?‖ Kendra frowned at the sleepiness of his voice. ―It sounds like one of us is trying to go to sleep, and if he knows what's good for him, he'll get that idea out of his head right now.‖ She yanked on the ends of his hair, so his neck was bent and she could look into his face. They'd both been so busy over the past couple of weeks that they'd actually had to carve out some time to spend alone together. Tonight was the night. ―I'm just resting my eyes. How about a movie?‖ When she released his hair, he snuggled his head into her thighs again. ―DVD or theater?‖ ―DVD. You couldn't pry me from this spot.‖ ―Cool,‖ Kendra said eagerly. ―We just got Troy in the mail today. How about that one?‖ ―The movie where Brad Pitt plays Achilles, right?‖ ―Yeah, that's it.‖ ―I'm game, so long as it isn't the usual kind of role you like to see him in.‖ ―What do you mean?‖ ―You know, the pretty-boy role.‖ ―Pretty boy?‖ ―Yes, pretty boy. The kind of role that requires him to prance around and try to look competent, witty, and charming all at the same time.‖ ―But he's all those things without even trying. And he's a good actor.‖ ―You think so?‖ Sloan challenged as he took hold of her legs and yanked so that she was lying on the couch and he was leaning over her. It was small of him, but he didn't like her

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fascination with the actor. He supposed it wouldn't be so bad if she didn't refer to Brad Pitt as her ―a-girl-can-only-dream spare.‖ ―Yes, I do,‖ Kendra purred. ―But he doesn't hold a candle to you.‖ Sloan felt her legs spread open beneath him, and slowly lowered his body to hers and slid a hand up her shirt to caress her torso. The clothes that blocked actual penetration just made the whole thing even more arousing. When she moaned and slid her arms around his neck, he bit her earlobe. She lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist. ―Now, what was that you were saying about what's-his-name?‖ he teased gruffly, and pinched one of her nipples through her shirt. Kendra undulated beneath him, her head pressing back into the cushion and exposing her neck. He bent and kissed the smooth skin. ―Sloan?‖ she mumbled. ―Hmm?‖ He continued to kiss her neck. ―Will you shut up?‖ Chuckling, Sloan raised his head. ―Why, Kendra. I'm surprised at you. Dry humping on the couch is so high school and so…unsatisfying.‖ ―Then take your clothes off,‖ she suggested and proceeded to do it herself, her hands going to the placket of his jeans. Still laughing, he wrapped an arm around her waist and sat up, turning so that he was sitting with her facing him astride his lap. He looked into her eyes and that loopy feeling came over him again. ―You'll be Mrs. Johnson, my wife, in two short weeks,‖ he said. Kendra smiled tenderly and caressed his face. ―And you'll be my husband, my one and only.‖ ―I'd better be,‖ he commanded. ―Sloan?‖ ―Hmm?‖ Sloan palmed her behind and pushed her against him so that her thighs widened even more. Kendra gasped and ground herself against him before saying, ―Are you sure you're ready to be married?‖ Sloan stopped what he was doing and lifted his head to look at her. The worry lurking behind the lust in her eyes made him scowl. ―What kind of question is that? You know I'm ready to marry you. I've only wanted to since forever.‖ ―Ummm,‖ Kendra said and undulated against him again. ―I like this position much better. Now,‖ she said and slowly licked his lips and then his chin. ―Let's get your clothes off.‖ Her hands went to his jeans again. Sloan's head was swimming, and he captured her mouth with his again and even toed his shoes off before taking hold of her chin so he could look into her eyes. ―What are you afraid of, Kendra?‖ ―Nothing,‖ she swore. ―I'm just a little nervous; that's all.‖ ―About what? Me? Still?‖ ―I just love you so much, Sloan, and I just want you to be sure.‖

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―And I love you, and I am sure,‖ he assured her before kissing her ravenously. He unbuttoned and unzipped her cutoffs, then slipped a hand into her wet warmth. Her breath caught and then started up again, only to turn into little keening noises when he opened her slick folds to fondle her clit. He was surprised when she right away started making her usual high-pitched sounds, signifying that she was on her way to orgasm, because they'd just made love that morning. Twice. But his ears were actually ringing. He felt her stiffen and knew that she'd be screaming her release any second. Damn, he'd have to take her like this more often. Obviously she liked the position. ―Sloan! Stop!‖ Kendra said urgently. She pulled at his wrist, and frowning, he raised his eyes to hers. ―Damn it, Kendra!‖ He felt like he was coming out of a fog. ―What?‖ ―I said stop!‖ she repeated. ―The doorbell is ringing.‖ ―What?‖ Sighing, Kendra took his face in her hands and, looking in his eyes, slowly enunciated, ―The. Door. Bell. Is. Ring-ing.‖ ―Ignore it.‖ ―We can't, Sloan,‖ she said with regret and moved to get off his lap. Sloan held her there. ―Yes, we can. It's probably just that nosy Ms. Weingarten from down the hall. She's the only one who comes over unannounced.‖ ―The doorbell is the announcement, goofy. Now let me up. And besides, she might have that recipe she promised me. She's a nice woman who's a little lonely since her husband died. She's retired and bored, so cut her some slack.‖ ―No.‖ ―What?‖ ―I said no,‖ Sloan repeated. ―Damn it, Ken, this is supposed to be our time alone together.‖ ―I know, baby, and I'm sorry. Just let me get rid of her. She saw me when I came in earlier. It would be rude not to answer.‖ ―It's been a little while since she rang the bell. Maybe she gave up and—‖ Kendra laughed and rose when he was interrupted by the sound of the bell. ―Just give me a minute. It won't take long. I swear,‖ she promised over her shoulder. ―Zip up your shorts,‖ Sloan reminded her morosely. ―Oops.‖ She tucked the large T-shirt into the front of the shorts, buttoned and zipped them. ―Just a minute,‖ she called and hurried when the sound of the bell pealed through the apartment again. Sloan watched her plaster a big smile on her face and pull open the door. ―Hi, Ms.—Mom! What are you doing here?‖ Camille looked at Kendra, unsure of her welcome. She'd been ready to turn around and leave, when Kendra had suddenly called through the door. She'd almost been relieved when she'd thought they weren't home, because she didn't want to be there. It had taken hours of convincing herself that it was time she patched things up with Kendra, and once she had, she'd gotten in her car and driven over before she could talk herself out of it.

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She hadn't called first because she was tired of the stilted and forced phone conversations with her daughter, and she'd wanted to see her. She missed her child. It was as simple as that. She wanted things to go back to the way they were before the whole therapy announcement, and she was willing to do what was necessary to make it that way, even if it meant pretending. ―I hope you don't mind my coming up without ringing first, but Theresa said it was okay,‖ she began and clutched her purse in both hands to prevent herself from pulling Kendra into her arms. A kiss on the cheek was all she got these days. ―She recognizes me, of course, and said that she thought you guys were in.‖ When Kendra remained quiet, Camille studied her, taking in the sloppy ponytail, the disheveled clothing, the flushed skin, and the lingering lust that mingled with surprise in her eyes. Camille's eyes widened in embarrassment and shock. Oh God, she'd interrupted them. She closed her eyes, trying to block out the thought that her daughter, grown or not, had been having sex. Already uncomfortable, she fumbled with her purse and said, ―I need to talk to you, Kendra, but I guess I shouldn't have just dropped by.‖ ―It's all right, Mom, honest,‖ Kendra said and stepped back to let her come in. Kendra bent to kiss Camille's cheek. ―How are you? What brings you by?‖ She shut the door. Camille heard the wariness in her voice and was sorry for it. She hadn't come for an argument, or even to discuss the therapy if she could help it. She'd just come over to make up. ―Well, I've been thinking about you and wanted to see you. I'd like to talk.‖ A hopeful gleam entered Kendra's eyes. ―Okay, Mom. But, um, Sloan and I just finished dinner a little bit ago, and I was going to…uh… I'd like to go freshen up,‖ she stuttered as she led Camille into the living room. ―Sweetheart,‖ she said to Sloan, ―Mom's here.‖ Sloan stood. ―Hello, Camille. It's been a long time.‖ ―Sloan.‖ ―Have a seat, Mom,‖ Kendra said. ―I'll be right back.‖ She looked over at Sloan. ―I'm going to go freshen up.‖ Camille sat in one of the chairs that flanked the coffee table. ―Would you like something to drink, Camille?‖ Sloan asked. ―Water, wine, pop?‖ ―Water would be good, thank you,‖ she answered. ―It's pretty hot out there.‖ ―Yeah, well, Chicago in August,‖ Sloan said over his shoulder as he left the room. ―The month came in as one big heat wave as usual.‖ Camille knew that he was angry with her. Well, angrier than usual. She didn't believe there was a time when she hadn't felt anger or resentment coming from him. She was sure that the anger now was because of his perception of how she was treating Kendra. ―Here you go.‖ Camille jumped at the sound of his voice and turned to look at him. She'd been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn't heard him return. ―Thank you,‖ she said and took the glass of ice and bottle of water from him. ―So we missed you at Venetian Night last month,‖ Sloan said and paused. ―And on the Fourth of July. Well, heck, Camille, we just haven't seen much of you at all this summer, have we?‖ Camille finished pouring the water over her ice, put the bottle on a coaster, took a sip from her glass, and sat back before she looked at him. Yes, he was angry and wasn't bothering to hide

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it. ―Yes, well, you know how it is. We all have things to do.‖ She watched as skepticism flashed in his eyes. ―Let's cut to the heart of the matter, okay, Camille? You're mad because Kendra's in therapy. That's your problem and your prerogative. What it isn't, is your right to make her feel guilty about it.‖ ―This is none of your business, Sloan. But I will say that I knew you were responsible for her being in therapy. I just knew it.‖ ―Now, Camille, let's give credit where credit is due, shall we? You and your ex-husband win the prize for that. I had nothing to do with it.‖ Camille felt her anger coming to the fore. It was precisely this kind of so-called manly arrogance that made her dislike men. ―This is between my daughter and me, so stay out of it.‖ ―Well, your daughter happens to be the woman I love, and I'm not going to stand by while you continue to manipulate her feelings and hurt her.‖ Outraged, Camille sputtered, ―How dare you! I would never manipulate my daughter. You don't know what you're talking about, so like I said, mind your own business.‖ ―Kendra is my business, Camille. You're a smart woman; you should have realized that by now. All evidence points to that fact, and it has for the past four years. You just prefer to ignore what's right in front of you.‖ ―She's my daughter. Mine,‖ Camille stated vehemently in a soft, cold, controlled voice. She felt threatened, and she was so angry now that she was close to tears. She refused to lose her daughter to this…this…man. ―I love her, and I want what's best for her.‖ ―So you say. Just remember what I said, Camille,‖ Sloan stated with finality before rising and leaving the room.

*** Kendra looked up as the bedroom door opened. She smiled. ―Hi, honey. I'll be right out. I've just finished with a quick shower,‖ she said as she pulled a half-slip over her hips. ―You didn't kill my mom, did you?‖ Sloan walked into the room and pulled her into his arms. He kissed the top of her head and buried his nose in her neck. ―I left her alive and well and gulping down water,‖ he said. He smoothed his hands over the silky chemise that covered her torso. Kendra stepped back out of his arms, her eyes sparkling with suppressed laughter. ―Don't start that again. I don't want to have to take another shower.‖ ―I don't know why you did in the first place,‖ Sloan countered. ―Because, Sloan, my mother is here, and it was fairly obvious what we'd been doing before she came.‖ ―Yeah, and it's too bad she did before we had a chance to. Five more minutes and I would have been too happy and satisfied to care who was at the door, including her.‖ ―Sloan!‖ ―Whatever, Ken. And I still don't see why you took a shower.‖ ―Would you want to sit around your mother smelling and looking like you'd just had sex?‖

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He winced. ―I told you before, Kendra. Those two words don't belong in the same sentence together. My mother doesn't even know what that phenomenon is. The stork brought my sister and brother and me. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it,‖ he insisted when she rolled her eyes. Kendra just laughed and shook her head. She stepped into a skirt, pulled it up, and reached for a sleeveless tank. Sloan watched her pull the shirt over her head. ―Listen, babe. I'm going to take off. I think I'll take a walk on the beach.‖ Saying nothing, Kendra put her arms through and tucked the shirt in. She slid her feet into flip-flops and smoothed imaginary wrinkles out of her skirt. Finally she looked at him. ―Okay.‖ He never stayed around long when her mother came to visit, and she hated it. They'd fought about it countless times. The arguing came partially from her feeling guilty that her mother's attitude drove him out of his own home. ―I just thought I'd give you guys some alone time; that's all. Don't worry,‖ he said. ―I'm not leaving because I'm angry. I'm leaving because I really do think you two need to talk without me around.‖ ―All right, but you're lucky I just happen to agree with you this time.‖ He kissed her lips. ―I'll be back in an hour or so, okay?‖ ―Okay,‖ Kendra said as she followed him out of the room. ―I'll see you later, then.‖ ―I love you,‖ Sloan said and kissed her again. ―I love you too.‖ Kendra locked the door behind him and went into the living room. ―Hi again, Mom. Sorry I took so long.‖ Camille had moved to the couch, and she looked up and smiled. ―It's all right, Kendra. You look beautiful.‖ She patted the cushion next to her. ―Come sit beside me.‖ Worried, Kendra sat and looked at her mother. ―Is everything all right?‖ she asked. ―What do you mean?‖ ―I mean are you sick? Is there a problem with your job? Are your friends all okay?‖ Kendra wanted to get all other possibilities out of the way, just in case she'd misinterpreted things when her mother had first arrived. Maybe Camille wasn't there to mend the breach between them. ―Of course everything is all right, Kendra,‖ Camille began and then stopped. ―Actually everything isn't all right. At least not between the two of us, and it's been that way for most of the summer.‖ ―Yes, it has,‖ Kendra agreed, surprising herself when she didn't immediately follow the words up with an apology. It was unusual for her, but she didn't feel the need to. Camille was surprised as well, and it briefly showed. ―I want things to go back to the way they were between, us, Kennie,‖ she said, using Kendra's childhood nickname. ―I hate that there's this rift between us.‖ ―So do I, Mom. I've missed you, but you made things difficult, and it wasn't fair.‖ ―I know, and I'm sorry. Can't we start over?‖ Kendra smiled and hugged her. ―Yes, of course, we can. I love you. Things can't go back to the way they were, though.‖

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Camille held Kendra tight, but then pulled back to look at her. ―What do you mean by that?‖ ―I mean that I've evolved, and to keep evolving, I'll have to change the way I relate to certain people and things.‖ Fear pulsed visibly through Camille's body. ―Specifically…‖ ―Specifically I can't keep harping on how Dad left, and that means I can't keep listening to you talk about it, and I especially can't keep subjugating my feelings to yours.‖ Camille stiffened. ―I wasn't aware that you were.‖ ―I know you weren't, Mom—at least not consciously.‖ She hurried to explain when Camille threw her a look that demanded she do so. ―For instance, I hate it when you lump Sloan in with Dad and talk about how he'll leave me just like Dad left you. You know that, but you do it anyway, and I let you.‖ ―What do you mean you let me? Last time I looked, I was a woman full grown.‖ ―That's not what I mean, and I think you know it,‖ Kendra chastised softly. She gripped Camille's hands more tightly when she felt her trying to pull them away. ―Please just listen to me.‖ ―I am listening to you, Kendra. And what you're saying is not fair. My pointing out things to you is only my way of trying to help you. I love you.‖ ―I know you do, Mom. But you have to let me go. If you really feel like I'm making a mistake with Sloan, don't keep reminding me of it. It only hurts me and makes me feel angry and insecure. If it is a mistake, then it's mine to make.‖ Camille let the tears she'd been holding back fall. ―I'm sorry that I hurt you, Kendra. I was angry because I felt like I was losing you. When you told me you were going to therapy, it was like Sloan had won, like men had won.‖ ―Oh, Mom,‖ Kendra said and hugged her again. ―That doesn't make a lot of sense. I hope you know that. There are no sides here. I love Sloan, and I love you. I want you both in my life. I need you both in my life.‖ After a long pause, Camille sighed with resignation. ―All right, then, sweetie. You've got me.‖ ―Good.‖ Kendra knew that her mother still didn't agree with her going to therapy, but decided not to say anything. Camille was too stubborn and her perspective was too warped for her to listen to logic. Kendra wished that weren't true, because based on their conversation, she felt more than ever that Camille would benefit from a few therapy sessions of her own. Camille pulled back again. She took her handkerchief and starting wiping the tears from Kendra's face, smiling when Kendra rolled her eyes. ―I'm still your mother. Allow me this one little bit of motherly duty.‖ ―Yes, ma'am.‖ ―There,‖ she said with satisfaction when she'd dried the last tear. ―Now, I'm a little late to the game, but catch me up on the wedding planning.‖

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Chapter Twenty-one Sloan looked at the faces surrounding him at the dinner table. He and Kendra had decided to take the members of their wedding party out to narrow down a few more details regarding the individual parties and the wedding, and to simply thank them for participating. Connor, Mozell, and Victoria, whom Kendra had picked up at the airport earlier, were all there. The only one missing was Kyle. The wedding was seven days away. ―Stop worrying, darling. Kyle will be here next week.‖ Kendra whispered the promise in his ear. He turned to look at her. ―How'd you know I was thinking about him?‖ ―Because I know you,‖ she whispered back. ―He's fine.‖ ―I know. I just get this feeling every time I think about him, and it isn't a good one.‖ ―Poor baby,‖ she crooned as she stroked his thigh. ―I understand how you would feel that way. It's Kyle, and you're used to worrying about him. But he'll be here. He promised, and you said he's never broken a promise before. He'll be here. He'll show up at the wedding all hale and hearty with a woman he's picked up on the plane. She'll be as loose as he is, and we'll all have a blast. Either that, or he'll pick up a loose woman left over from your bachelor party the night before the wedding.‖ Here, she gave him a knowing look. ―I believe that they prefer to be called dancers, Kendra.‖ ―So sorry,‖ she said sarcastically. Sloan laughed and kissed her. ―You always make me feel better, Kennie-girl.‖ She smiled against his lips and lifted her hand to stroke his face. ―I'm glad, and stop it with the 'Kennie-girl.' The place is too crowded for you to try to seduce me.‖ ―You caught that, did you?‖ he whispered and kissed her again. ―Yes, I did,‖ she said and caught her breath. ―All right, Blondie. Remove the hand.‖ Sloan inched his hand farther along her inner thigh. ―What if I don't?‖ She lifted a brow. ―If you don't, there'll be no trip to paradise for you when we get home.‖ Sloan's mood drooped around the edges. ―Well, if you want to put it that way…‖ ―I do, yes,‖ she confirmed with a nod, laughing at his hangdog look. ―Fine, but that will mean no trip for you either.‖ ―By morning you'll be begging for it,‖ she said nonchalantly and shrugged. ―I can live till then.‖ She picked up her wine and took a sip, cradling the glass with her elbows on the table. ―You're that sure of me, huh?‖ Kendra turned to look at him and leaned in to rub her nose against his. ―Yep, I'm that sure.‖

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―Well, guess what,‖ Sloan demanded. ―What?‖ ―You have every right to be,‖ he said and removed his hand. Laughing more, she kissed him again. ―Hey, stop with all the lovey-dovey stuff,‖ Mozell said. ―Yeah, and no more whispering,‖ Victoria threw in. Kendra looked over. ―Sorry,‖ she said with a smile. ―I'm not,‖ Sloan declared. ―I don't see anything wrong with showing the woman I'm going to marry a little love and affection.‖ ―Love and affection are fine,‖ Victoria countered. ―It's what comes after that none of us want to see.‖ Sloan conceded with a nod. ―Let's talk about the bachelorette party tomorrow,‖ Mozell suggested. ―Ooh, let's,‖ Kendra said excitedly. ―Where are you having it?‖ Connor asked. ―Ravinia.‖ ―Ravinia? The outdoor concert place?‖ ―Yes, Ravinia,‖ Mozell replied snippily to Connor's skepticism. ―Is there a problem?‖ ―I think what Connor is trying to get across is that Ravinia seems a funny place to have a bachelorette party,‖ Sloan offered. Victoria shrugged. ―Not to us, it isn't.‖ ―So I suppose you're going to take a picnic out there and sit and drink champagne or something,‖ Connor said. ―That's exactly what we're going to do,‖ Kendra answered. Connor looked at Sloan and shook his head. Sloan shrugged. ―That's what she wants to do. I don't have a problem with it.‖ ―Weird,‖ Connor muttered. ―Why? Because there isn't going to be any debauchery?‖ Mozell asked with a superior smirk. Connor's gaze slid slowly over her. ―Don't knock it till you've tried it, Slim. Anytime you want to give it a go, you give me a call.‖ Mozell only blinked and stared. Kendra interrupted. ―Don't worry about us. We're going to have a great time.‖ ―Yeah, first we'll have a little get-together at Kendra and Sloan's for hors d'oeuvres, games, and gifts,‖ Victoria began, ―and then we're off to Ravinia to hear some jazz.‖ ―Sounds good to me,‖ Sloan said.

*** Kendra stood in the middle of the living room, taking in every inch of the space. She wanted to be sure that everything was perfect for when Sloan arrived home. She'd spoken to him

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earlier and could tell that he was stressed. There were still no leads on the office thief, and today was his last day of work before the wedding and honeymoon, which meant that he'd be out of the office for two and a half weeks. ―My poor alpha dog isn't too happy about that,‖ she murmured as she flicked the switch on a remote so Stevie Wonder's voice oozed through the speakers. She made sure all the rest of the remotes were lined up on the table. She wanted to help him relax, to take care of him. She'd been off work since the day before to prepare for the wedding. And once she'd left work, she didn't think about it. She'd done all she could before she left to make sure all of her ducks were in a row. She was sure Sloan had done the same, but it was a bit different for him because he was the man in charge. She went to the kitchen and brought out the tray of vegetables and dip she'd made up. She placed it on the table, then rushed back to the kitchen to grab the fresh fruit tray. After she'd placed the last tray on the table, she looked at her watch. He'd be home at any moment. She walked back to the kitchen to place her tilapia filets in the oven, boogying to the beat of Stevie Wonder's ―Sir Duke.‖ She used a long-tined fork to lift the six filets—he'd eat four of them, at least—out of their plastic bag and into the baking dish. I marinated them just long enough to be perfect. Just as she opened the oven door, ―Signed, Sealed, Delivered I'm Yours‖ began to play. ―Love this song,‖ she trilled and started singing. She was singing so loudly that she didn't hear the front door open. ―Ooh, baby, here I am: signed, sealed, delivered—I'm yours.‖ And there she was, bent over, shaking her ass, singing off-key, when she heard Sloan clear his throat from the kitchen doorway. She straightened slowly, deliberately, and closed the oven door. Then she turned and let him get an eyeful of the French maid's outfit she wore. She knew he might dismiss the blouse and the black skirt. She had half a dozen outfits that were nearly the same. But the apron—white, lacy, dainty—the apron he couldn't ignore. ―Hi, sweetheart!‖ She walked over to greet him. ―Dinner's almost ready,‖ she whispered against his lips after a thorough kiss. ―I'm not so interested in dinner,‖ Sloan said as squeezed her behind. ―That's for later,‖ she stated firmly. ―And I thought I'd treat you with one of the presents from my bachelorette party then. But first, I want you to relax.‖ She stepped out of his arms, took his hand, and led him to the living room. ―Let me have your jacket.‖ She placed it on the arm of the nearest chair. She then pushed him down onto the sofa so he was sitting in front of the fruits and vegetables. ―Here's something to hold you over until dinner, and the remotes are all here. That documentary on Queen Elizabeth that you've been wanting to see is in the DVD player.‖ ―Thank you, honey. You're so good to me,‖ Sloan said before closing his eyes and leaning his head back. He toed his shoes off. ―Aw, poor baby,‖ Kendra crooned as she stepped behind the sofa to massage his shoulders. ―Tough day, huh?‖ ―Umm.‖ Sloan agreed. ―Just let me get some of the kinks out,‖ she soothed. Her hands went to his neck. ―Do you want a full-body massage later?‖ Sloan moaned. ―That's what you'd call a rhetorical question, right?‖ Kendra kissed the top of his head. ―For you? Always,‖ she promised.

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After a few minutes, Sloan finally opened his eyes. ―That felt good, honey,‖ he said and caught one of her hands in his, then brought it to his lips and kissed the palm. ―Thanks.‖ ―You're welcome. Now eat your vegetables.‖ In the process of biting into a carrot stick, Sloan said, ―Aren't you having any?‖ ―I will in a minute. I've got to check on dinner.‖ She was putting the lid back on one of two pots when he walked up behind her, put his arms around her, and pulled her into his body. Startled, Kendra put her fork down and laughed. ―Sloan! What are you doing? I'm trying to make dinner.‖ Her hands went to his, and her head automatically fell to the side so his lips could have better contact with her neck. ―Forget about dinner,‖ he said, sliding his hands down her hips to catch the ends of her skirt, and then slowly sliding them back up again, bringing the skirt with them. ―I want to make love to my wife-to-be.‖ Kendra's eyes fell closed, and she wantonly pushed her ass into his erection. ―Dinner can wait,‖ she agreed and switched the oven and burners off.

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Chapter Twenty-two ―Is Kendra sure her cousins don't resent me for being in the wedding?‖ Mozell whispered to Tory as they stood in front of the pulpit at St. Catharine's Catholic Church. In lieu of flower petals, Kendra's four-year-old cousin Laila scattered pieces of paper down the aisle. Tory chanced a glance at a group of four women huddled together on a pew and by turns whispering and flicking glances at the pulpit. ―So what if they do? Ignore them. They're only here for form anyway. Kendra's not close to any of them.‖ ―See, I would do that,‖ Mozell began, ―but um…the tall, thick one kinda scares me. She's been giving me the evil eye since I got here, and I could swear she pointed at me, shook her fist, held up three fingers, and mouthed the words three o'clock.‖ Tory snorted and covered her mouth to hide the guffaws that wanted to escape. She tried to focus on Sloan's nephew, Sam, as he walked down the aisle carrying an empty pillow. ―I see why Kendra likes you,‖ she said from the corner of her mouth. ―You're a fool. Now will you please be quiet—oh Lord,‖ she said as she saw Camille bearing down on them. ―You've done it now. Here comes Kendra's crazy mama.‖ Mozell's laughter sputtered out. A fake coughing fit followed. ―Oh…uh…excuse me, so sorry. I think I need some water…ow,‖ she said indignantly when Tory elbowed her in the side. ―Don't you even think of leaving me to face that scary little woman by myself,‖ Tory muttered and grabbed her hand. Mozell continued to cough. Camille wasn't buying any of it. ―Girls, is there a problem?‖ she asked with a lifted brow and a gimlet stare. ―No, ma'am,‖ Tory said. ―Uh…no,‖ Mozell said. ―Good, because if you don't mind, we'd all like to get out of here sometime today. Understand?‖ ―Yes, ma'am,‖ they chorused. When Camille walked away, Mozell whispered, ―Why is she always able to make me feel like I'm about ten years old, or worse, like I just have no business trying to live?‖ ―You too, huh? I thought I was the only one.‖ They watched Camille go sit with Kendra's cousins, who all in various ways showed their approval of what she'd just done. ―Well, now we know whose side she's on,‖ Tory whispered. ―Here comes Kendra.‖

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Kendra frowned as she tried to keep up with her uncle's long strides down the aisle. She hadn't wanted to ask him to walk her down the aisle, but Camille had pitched a fit after Kendra had told her she was going to ask Sloan's dad. She'd gone on and on saying her brother was actual family, so he should do it. Kendra had argued back that she didn't really know her uncle. The real reason was that in the back of her mind, she blamed him for not helping her when she'd needed him as a child when Camille had zoned out on her. The strongest image Kendra had of her mother's brother was one of inaction. He was her mother's only living relative, yet he'd done nothing to help Camille when she'd gone crazy after Cedric's leaving. And of course, he'd never taken Kendra out of her mother's sphere of influence. All Kendra remembered her uncle Jack doing when he came over—the few times he did— was dropping her cousins off. And Kendra had hated it when they came to visit, particularly the oldest three. They were bullies, plain and simple, and they'd picked on their youngest sister, Jasmine, just as much as they had Kendra. Kendra's flower girl, Laila, was Jasmine's daughter. Kendra rarely saw any of them, including Laila, and it was like they weren't related at all. She looked up and saw Sloan smiling and waiting for her. She smiled back. Never mind all of that now, she thought. Life goes on.

*** ―Have you got everything?‖ Sloan asked Kendra later that afternoon. ―Yeah, I think so.‖ She walked through the door he held open for her. ―You put the bridesmaids' and groomsmen's presents in the trunk earlier, right?‖ ―Yes, and before you ask, I have the flower girl's and ring bearer's gifts in there too.‖ ―Good. I think everyone will love their gifts, don't you?‖ They'd gotten Mozell and Tory silver, heart-shaped keepsake boxes, Connor and Kyle silver cuff links, and Laila and Sam pewter banks. With the exception of Kyle's and Connor's, each gift was engraved with the recipient's name. Connor's and Kyle's had their initials only. ―Yeah, I think they will, though Kyle might have appreciated the traditional flask more than cuff links.‖ Kendra stopped in her tracks, a worried frown marring her brow. ―You really think so?‖ Sloan shook his head. ―I'm only teasing, Ken,‖ he said. ―The gifts are great. Now get in the car before we're late to your mother's shindig.‖ Kendra slid in and put her seat belt on. When Sloan was all buckled up and ready to go, she said, ―I still can't believe Mom offered to take care of the rehearsal dinner. She rented out space in the park and paid for the caterer and everything.‖ ―Well, it will be better than a stuffy old restaurant. At least the kids can run around, and people can relax with some barbecue.‖ ―That's true,‖ Kendra said distractedly. After a moment, she said, ―You know Mom only offered to foot the bill for the rehearsal dinner because I let it slip about your parents paying for our night in the Four Seasons honeymoon suite before we leave for Tahiti, right?‖ Sloan looked at her in surprise and then refocused his eyes back on the road. ―Yeah, I'd figured as much. I just didn't know if you had thought of it.‖ ―Of course I had,‖ she assured him as she trailed her fingers through the hair at his nape. ―Speaking of which, you know we can skip it if you want.‖

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―Skip what?‖ ―The honeymoon,‖ Kendra began and, warming to her subject, turned toward him. ―Just hear me out. I know you're worried about that thief in your firm, and a honeymoon would—‖ ―No, just stop, Kendra. We're going on our honeymoon, and that's that.‖ ―But won't your leaving make the FBI suspicious? What about the state's attorney?‖ ―Yeah, I thought about that, and I discussed it with them. This honeymoon has been planned for almost an entire year, and they know that. And besides, I've not kept anything secret from them. Hell, I've even let their forensic accountant have a look at things. He has no clue either.‖ Kendra shook her head. ―But don't they get it? You could have been planning this all along. I mean, you could just be a really clever crook.‖ Once again, Sloan looked away from the road long enough to look at her. ―Gee, thanks, Ken. Remind me never to introduce you to Connor's FBI contact. After one conversation with you, he'd probably have me in handcuffs.‖ ―You know what I mean.‖ ―I do, but don't worry about it,‖ he told her as he caressed her knee. ―It's fine. And besides, after all the bullshit, I need some time away. The case is at a complete standstill. It's like I imagined the theft and Mrs. Patterson's disappearance.‖ ―I'm sorry, baby.‖ She waited for him to park the car before saying reluctantly, ―I suppose we could postpone the wedding if…‖ She stopped at the sheer look of incredulity on his face. ―We are not postponing our wedding! I'll be damned if I'll devote more of my life to this theft than I have to.‖ Kendra rushed to hug him and pressed a kiss to his mouth. ―I love you.‖ ―And I love you,‖ he returned before covering her mouth in another kiss. The kiss was so carnal that Kendra moaned. ―What was that for?‖ she asked when their mouths broke contact. ―I figure I may as well get all I can while I still have the chance,‖ Sloan grumbled, ―since I was an idiot and let you women talk me into spending the night away from my future wife.‖ Kendra smiled. ―It's only one night. And besides, you're not supposed to see the bride before the wedding.‖ ―Superstitious nonsense. And what's that got to do with your spending the night at home? You could always leave early and get dressed.‖ ―Yes, but this way the girls and I can do girlie stuff the night before in the hotel suite. And anyway, you're having your bachelor party tonight. You'll probably get too drunk to know if I'm home or not.‖ ―I'm not going to get drunk, Kendra. You know me better than that. Have you ever seen me drunk?‖ ―Never. But that's what men do at their bachelor parties—get drunk and try not to think about the freedom they're about to give up.‖ ―I lost my so-called freedom four years ago when you walked into my office and smiled at me.‖

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Kendra made a helpless, whimpering sound and kissed him tenderly. ―God, when you say things like that I get all mushy inside.‖ Sloan grinned. ―Mushy enough to stay home tonight?‖ She laughed. ―Not quite, Blondie. But it's a close one.‖ She held her hand out so that he could see that she was holding her thumb and forefinger about an inch apart. When he took her fingers and kissed them, she asked, ―Will Kyle be staying the night at the apartment or going back to his hotel?‖ ―Who knows with Kyle?‖ ―Why'd he get a hotel room anyway?‖ ―He says he wants to give us privacy and have some privacy of his own in case he gets lucky.‖ Kendra shook her head. ―No doubt about it; the man is hands down a freak. Did you see him hitting on Tory at the wedding rehearsal?‖ ―Yeah, I did. Right after he finished hitting on Mozell. Connor didn't like that too much.‖ ―Then he should make his move,‖ she said unsympathetically. ―And we'd better make ours to that picnic before someone comes looking for us.‖

*** ―Having a good time, Bro?‖ Sloan looked up from his conversation with Connor and Donovan Shaw and smiled at Kyle. ―Never better,‖ he said and lifted his Goose Island beer in salute. ―Cool, but you might want to get a better seat for the show I have planned,‖ Kyle said. He looked down at his watch. ―She'll be here in about five minutes.‖ ―No, thanks,‖ Sloan said. ―I'm fine just where I am.‖ ―Well, I'm not,‖ Donovan said and looked at Sloan. ―Are we done here?‖ ―Go. We can talk about your case when I get back.‖ Kyle slid into the chair that Donovan had vacated. ―Isn't he one of the guys you think could be stealing from the trust? Are you any closer to figuring it out?‖ ―Yeah, he's one of them, and no, I'm no closer. Hell, I can't even eliminate my own secretary from the list.‖ ―Damn,‖ Kyle said regretfully. ―Sorry, that must be hard. I know how much you like her, but in this situation, you just can't trust anyone connected with that trust. I hope you don't talk about what's going on at the office or anything. I mean, anyone could be listening.‖ ―Oh, I'll go you one better,‖ Sloan said with a mock toast of his beer. ―I don't even discuss it on any phone but my cell.‖ ―That's good,‖ Kyle said and looked at Connor. ―No movement with the information from the cruise line yet?‖ ―Oh yeah, there's been movement. Your brother just refuses to believe what's been put right in front of his eyes.‖ Kyle looked at Sloan. ―What's he talking about?‖ ―The ship's manifest has Mrs. Patterson's signature. And they sent some crappy picture with an image that is barely discernable from its blurry background.‖

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―And you think the signature's forged and the photo is faked?‖ ―Yes, I do,‖ Sloan said stubbornly. ―I think Mrs. Patterson is dead.‖ Connor snorted. ―Listen to him. He's turned this into a conspiracy, the scale of which only the mind of Oliver Stone could imagine. If the signature is a forgery, then we're looking at a conspiracy that would have to involve not only the nephew and one of Sloan's associates, but someone on the cruise ship as well.‖ ―Your point?‖ Sloan challenged. ―The nephew could easily have paid someone off.‖ Connor only shook his head. ―Well, we're not going to settle it tonight,‖ Kyle said. ―How 'bout we join the rest of the revelers?‖ She called herself Puss 'n Boots, and she wore thigh-high boots, a sheer black wrap, and not much else, all of which came off slowly and dangerously. By the time she got to her boots the room had erupted into shouts, and Sloan was left wondering if her legs were made of rubber, given some of the moves she'd made. Puss 'n Boots eventually left, taking at least a thousand dollars in sweaty tips with her, and the party went on. At the end of the night, after hundreds of buffalo wings and minicheeseburgers had been consumed, Sloan found himself sitting with the people he'd started out with—Connor and Kyle. He lifted his second beer of the night in salute to them. ―To a great party.‖ ―To a great party,‖ they agreed. ―So what's next on the agenda?‖ Connor asked. He hadn't gotten drunk either. ―I don't know about you two,‖ Kyle offered. ―But I've got a nice, sweet woman in the main bar waiting for me.‖ ―Are you drunk?‖ Sloan asked him. ―No,‖ Kyle said. ―Much to my disappointment, but I don't want to have a hangover for the big day tomorrow.‖ ―Good. Then that means you'll be on time in the morning when I come to your hotel to bring your tux and to pick you up.‖ Kyle had been measured for his tuxedo when he was last in town, but it hadn't been ready until after he'd left for Lake Tahoe. Sloan had had it since June and had forgotten to bring it to the rehearsal to give to him. ―Yeah, thanks. That will be cool. What time?‖ ―I'll be there by nine thirty, and I'd like for us to leave by ten.‖ ―You picking Connor up too?‖ Kyle asked. ―There's no need to. He lives a block down from the church, and he'll meet us there. Besides, I could use the company on the ride over.‖ ―Nervous?‖ ―No. I just want the company.‖ What Sloan really wanted was to talk to him about the whole Tahoe thing, and his only chance would be during the ride to the church. ―Don't forget: nine thirty,‖ Sloan reminded him again as Kyle, looking all too eager, stood to leave. ―I'll be there,‖ Kyle said.

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Chapter Twenty-three Sloan checked his watch. He was at least an hour behind schedule, but he couldn't make himself move from the couch. He'd awakened that morning thinking of Kendra, and he'd thought about her the entire time he'd been getting dressed for their wedding. He hadn't been thinking of how happy she made him, but of how unsure and frustrated she made him feel, and how she'd twice in the past few weeks questioned the wisdom of their getting married. He kept thinking about her suggestion that they postpone and couldn't help but wonder if she was really ready to get married, if she trusted him. What troubled him even more were the questions he kept asking himself: Would marrying her mean he'd have to deal with her questioning his commitment to her for the rest of his life? And if it did, was he really willing to do that? Did he want to chance her never getting better in therapy and always comparing him to her dad, waiting for him to leave? Sloan knew if he didn't hurry and answer these questions, his chances of getting married that day would diminish greatly. Making a strangled sound of frustration, he pushed his fingers through his hair and pulled until tears pricked his eyes, as if he could will the answer into his brain. ―What the fuck?‖ he muttered. He hated feeling so unsure. ―Would it be worth it?‖ Unbidden, an image of Kendra smiling and beckoning to him filled his head, and warmth spread throughout his body, and suddenly he knew his answer. ―I'm such an idiot,‖ he grumbled as he rose and started gathering the things he needed—Kyle's tux, keys, wallet, cell phone. ―Of course I'll chance it. I love her.‖ He dialed Kendra's cell, unsurprised when the call went straight to voice mail. ―Listen, baby, I'm running behind. I was stupid, sweetheart… I started questioning if—Anyway, I'm on my way as soon as I get Kyle. I'll be late for the time we planned I'd get to the church, but I won't be late for the wedding. Just wait for me.‖ Wincing, he disconnected, knowing she would freak out when he was late. ―I'm a loser, I know,‖ he mumbled as he hurried from the apartment. As he locked the door, he raised beseeching eyes heavenward. ―But I'm begging you, please make her therapy work!‖ Once down in the lobby, he debated about going to get his or Kendra's car and wished he'd given in when Kendra had insisted that he get a limo, or at least a town car and driver to the church, like she was doing. She didn't want to have to worry about who would drive his car to the reception and then home, since they'd both be in a limo then. But he'd said he'd take a taxi. ―Turn the light on for me, will you, Henry?‖ he asked the doorman, referring to the light that sat on the end of the building's awning. Like a light on top of a police car, it turned and blinked on and off to signal to taxis. At the hotel, he let himself into Kyle's room with the key his brother had given him, praying that Kyle had at least showered already. He'd called Kyle on his way over, but there

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hadn't been an answer. He'd called everyone he had numbers for and had gotten only voice mails. He'd even called the church's office, with no results. As he walked in, Kyle was walking into the bedroom from the bathroom with a towel around his waist. ―Oh hey!‖ Kyle said. ―Uh…am I wrong, or are you late?‖ Sloan laid the garment bag that held the tux across the bed and placed the shoe box on the floor, deciding there wasn't time to explain what he was already thinking of as his moment of true insanity. ―We both are. You should get dressed.‖ As Kyle hurried back into the bathroom, Sloan paced over to look out the window to see the view of the Chicago River, and he remembered exactly which hotel they were in. Bastard must be flush again. Must have won a game he didn't tell me about. ―Well, if it isn't the man who's about to walk down the aisle,‖ Kyle said some minutes later. Sloan turned to see Kyle walking out of the bathroom. Sloan laughed reluctantly. Kyle had bloody tissue in two places on his face, where he'd obviously cut himself rushing to shave. ―You didn't have to bleed yourself.‖ Kyle touched a finger to one of the bloody spots. ―I was just trying to hurry. Hey, are you nervous?‖ ―I was, but now impatient is a better word to use—impatient to get through all the pomp and circumstance and get back to living our lives.‖ Kyle raised a brow. ―That doesn't sound like a man in love.‖ ―We're already together in every way that counts. Kendra is already my wife spiritually. After the ceremony, she'll be my wife legally. The wedding is really just a formality.‖ ―I hear ya, but it's a formality that people, including Kendra, need.‖ ―Exactly,‖ Sloan agreed. ―So let's go.‖ ―Just let me put on my shoes.‖ Kyle sat on the bed and reached for the shoe box. He studied Sloan as he finished up. The crisp black and white looked good on him. His thick blond hair was combed just so, and Kyle figured that it was done purely for Kendra's sake. ―What?‖ Sloan asked after Kyle had been staring at him for more than a few seconds. ―Nothing. I was just thinking that for once in your sorry life, you actually look handsome.‖ Sloan snorted. ―And you look downright pretty. Now can we get the hell out of here? I'm already late.‖ ―I'm right behind you,‖ Kyle said as Sloan stalked toward the door. ―Oh wait, I need to grab my wallet and room key.‖ ―I have a room key. Just grab your wallet and come on,‖ Sloan said as he pulled the door open and surprised the three men standing on the other side of it. His eyes narrowed in suspicion as he took them in. Two of them were large, bulky, and looked to be only about two branches up the evolutionary tree, while the other was scrawny, with small, beady eyes. The big ones wore dark sunglasses and black leather jackets. Sloan took all of this in in the matter of seconds it took for the hair on the back of his neck to stand up. He tried to shut the door and was prevented from doing so by a meaty hand that came up to slam against it. ―Got my cell and my wallet. What's going—‖ Kyle had come up behind Sloan, who was frozen in place and staring at the gun that was pointed at him. ―What the hell? Tom? What are you doing here?‖

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―Aw, my feelings are hurt, Kyle,‖ the man with the gun said. ―Don't you want to know why the rest of us are here too?‖ He waved the gun. ―Step back.‖ ―Damn it, Kyle,‖ Sloan said angrily as he and Kyle backed into the room. ―What the hell is going on here?‖ He kept his gaze on the men. He and Kyle could probably have handled them if it hadn't been for the gun. ―Give me your phone.‖ The demand directed at Kyle came from the huge man who wasn't carrying a gun. When Kyle gave it to him, he threw it to the floor and demolished it with the heel of his shoe. ―Now yours,‖ he said to Sloan. Sloan reluctantly reached in his pocket, handed it over, and watched as his phone got the same treatment. The man walked over to the bedside table, pulled it forward, and then yanked the phone out by the cord, the force of his pull causing the jack to come out as well. ―Just in case.‖ ―Just in case what, you idiot!‖ The one holding the gun wasn't happy. ―Now if someone calls and can't reach them, they'll get suspicious.‖ ―Oh, jeez!‖ the man said with a slap to his forehead. ―I wasn't thinkin'. Sorry, Cliff.‖ ―You're a moron—fuckin' world-class; that's what you are, Bobo.‖ Even being in peril couldn't stop Sloan's reaction. He looked at Kyle and mouthed, Bobo? What the fuck? Kyle only shrugged his acknowledgment of the absurdity of being taken hostage by a killer named Bobo. ―Hey! I saw that!‖ Bobo's outburst made Sloan look at him. The huge man hunched his shoulders. ―My mom liked the sound of it, okay?‖ Again, Sloan couldn't stop his reaction; his mouth fell open in pure shock. The big ape had busted into their hotel room, taken them hostage, and with the help of his primate of a partner, was probably going to kill them, and he had the balls to get offended at his surprise over his ridiculous name? Sloan shook his head. The shit was fucking surreal. ―Shut the fuck up about your name, Bobo,‖ Cliff said tiredly, as if he'd said it a thousand times before. ―Both of you sit down.‖ The order was for Kyle and Sloan, and he waved the gun at the chairs. ―Now,‖ he began once they were seated, ―our friend Tom here is going to tie you fellows up.‖ He gestured to the small man, who pulled rope out of his pocket and tied Sloan's hands behind his back. ―Tom.‖ Kyle's voice was filled with rage as Tom tied his hands. ―What the fuck is going on? What are you and Cassius's muscle doing here?‖ Tom wiped his hand nervously over his face and looked aimlessly around the room. ―Well, you see, it's like this, Kyle. I, uh…I mean, we need…‖ ―What Tom here is trying to tell you, Kyle ole boy, is that we've come for the money. All of it.‖ ―What money, Cliff?‖ Kyle asked. ―I have no idea what you're talking about.‖ ―Oh, come off it, Johnson,‖ Bobo put in. ―We know about that big poker pot you won a couple of days ago. Your buddy Tom here spilled the beans, so hand it over. The whole two hundred thousand.‖ Sloan jerked toward Kyle in surprise. I should have known. I just should have known.

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Kyle ignored Sloan for the moment. He looked at Tom. ―And I suppose I've got you to thank for them finding out my hotel and room number too, huh, Tom?‖ Tom squirmed. ―I'm sorry, Kyle. They were there when I called your cell yesterday and left you a message. And then they made me let them listen to the voice message you left me with the name of your hotel and the telephone and room numbers.‖ ―Enough of the chitchat, Johnson. Where's the money?‖ ―I don't have the money here.‖ Sloan couldn't help it. ―This is true, Kyle?‖ Kyle nodded. ―I went to Vegas to play in another tournament because I didn't want to take the chance of being set up again. Didn't tell anyone I was going, but I won. Then I ran into Tom here, and…I shoulda kept my mouth shut.‖ He looked back to Cliff. ―But I don't have it here.‖ ―You're lying.‖ ―No, I'm not,‖ was all Kyle said. ―Look, Kyle, I'm really sorry about this. Honest,‖ Tom said earnestly. ―It's just that we've been borrowing money from Cassius, and we need to put it back.‖ ―Borrowing?‖ Kyle repeated derisively. ―Yeah, that's right,‖ Cliff said. ―When we found out that the little pip-squeak here was doing it and getting away with it, we figured we could too. We made him cut us in on it. It's such a sweet deal. And now we need to put the money back—‖ ―Yeah, but, Cliff,‖ Tom interrupted. ―We don't need all of it. All we need is sixty thousand. We can let Kyle keep the rest of his winnings, can't we?‖ The question was asked so seriously that Sloan snorted and gave Kyle a look. Kyle just shook his head in disgust. Stupid kid, Sloan thought. Unless Kyle and I are able to get control of the situation, we'll probably both be dead before the morning is over. He thought about Kendra and tried to choke back his rage. Think. There's a way out of this. All I need is one shot. He looked at Cliff, who held the gun and was standing next to Tom. Bobo was standing close to Kyle. I have to get the kid out of the way. ―Don't be stupid, Tom,‖ Kyle commanded. ―They're not going to let me or my brother live, so why will I need money?‖ Sloan decided that if he weren't so angry, it would have almost been painful to watch the hurt confusion on Tom's face. ―Why would you say something like that, Kyle?‖ Tom asked. ―We didn't come here to kill you. We just need your money. Besides, you're my friend, and we've got nothing against your brother.‖ Sloan rolled his eyes and looked at the clock. He had had enough. ―Wake up, kid! They're going to kill us, and if it weren't for the fact that they work for your brother, they'd probably kill you too.‖ ―It isn't true,‖ Tom insisted. He turned to Bobo with his arms held out in appeal. ―Tell them it isn't true, Bobo.‖ He walked toward Bobo and away from Cliff. Sloan saw his chance and took it, signaling to Kyle just before launching from the chair and at the man holding the gun. ―Hey!‖ Sloan heard Tom say as he bumped into him on his way to rushing Cliff. He didn't make it. The next thing Sloan knew, his head was exploding in pain, and the world was fading to black.

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*** Anteroom at St. Catharine's, 10:45 a.m. ―You look beautiful.‖ A teary Camille still seemed unable to believe that her baby girl was old enough to get married. ―Thanks, Mom,‖ Kendra said and tried to smile over the fear trying to take over. Where was Sloan? ―She looks a great deal like you, Camille,‖ Mary Johnson commented. ―Don't you think so, Amy?‖ ―Oh definitely,‖ Amy concurred. ―Stop,‖ Camille demurred. ―You're embarrassing me.‖ Kendra wore a white satin, A-line, floor-length gown with a sweetheart neckline. The bodice of the gown showcased patterns of embroidered lace and had crystal and pearl beading. The skirt of the gown was overlaid with a white gossamer material that carried the same lace, pearl, and crystal beading pattern of the bodice. Her hair was upswept in a complicated style with pearls and crystals. She looked at herself in the mirror. Wait till Sloan gets a load of me. ―Gosh, you look like a fairy princess!‖ Kendra turned to smile at Laila, who was as pretty as a picture in a pink satin dress with crinoline beneath. Laila's eyes were stretched as big as saucers as she stared at Kendra in wonder. Kendra bent to whisper, ―How 'bout we be princesses together? Would you like that?‖ The child giggled and nodded. ―Okay.‖ ―Then it's a deal, Princess Laila. Now pucker up and give me a big kiss! There, now you have on lipstick too,‖ she finished and gently wiped her thumb across the girl's lips to spread it around. She straightened. ―Is everyone ready?‖ Dressed in a lilac taffeta, tea-length, strapless dress, Mozell looked at the big clock on the wall. ―We've got time yet.‖ ―Yes, at least ten minutes,‖ Tory said as she stepped back into the anteroom. Kendra looked over at her and felt her heart rate accelerate when Tory gently shook her head. At Kendra's request, Tory had gone to see if Sloan had arrived yet. Kendra turned away. ―Where are you, Sloan?‖ she mumbled softly.

*** Kyle's hotel room, 11:48 a.m. Sloan fought his way through haze and pain, opened his eyes, and closed them again when it proved to be too painful. After a few seconds, he decided to try again. This time he lifted his lids slowly. That was only marginally better. Through the pain swimming in his head, he heard voices. Kyle was saying something about dereliction of duty—and a hospital—and the owner of a smoky feminine voice was talking over him. ―I've seen enough head injuries to know that you and your brother are fine. It just so happens your head is harder than his, which is no surprise to me.‖

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He tried to lift his head and let out a loud moan when the pain that had thus far been a throb became a sudden explosion. He closed his eyes again. ―Fuck it.‖ ―Sloan? Can you hear me?‖ Sloan opened his eyes again to see Kyle leaning over him and looking worried. ―I can hear you just fine,‖ he got out. ―Have you called Kendra?‖

*** Anteroom at St. Catharine's, 11:54 a.m. Kendra sat in the anteroom alone with her mother and tried not to cry. The wedding was supposed to have begun almost an hour before. Sloan was now almost two hours late. ―Is there something I can do, baby?‖ Camille asked and reached out to hug her. Kendra rose and walked to the other side of the room. She didn't want to be touched. The door opened, and she looked at Mary and Amy with wide, worried, yet hopeful eyes. The hope died when she saw their faces. ―You called our house?‖ ―Yes, but there was no answer.‖ ―And no answer on his or Kyle's cell phones either,‖ Amy put in. They'd gone outside because they couldn't get signals for their cell phones in the church. ―Do you think something has happened to them?‖ Camille whispered to Mary. ―I don't know. Mozell and Tory are checking with the police and the hospitals.‖ ―Well, do you think Sloan changed his mind again? I mean, after the message he left on her cell phone about questioning whatever he was questioning, maybe we should take that as a sign that he's not coming…‖ Kendra ignored the whispering around her and concentrated on Sloan and what she knew about him. He loved her; she knew he did. Something must have happened to him. That had to be it. Even though she'd always thought she'd somehow know if he were badly hurt, there was no other explanation for his absence. There just couldn't be. ―He's not like Daddy,‖ she whispered miserably and tried to make herself believe it.

*** Kyle's hotel room, 11:49 a.m. Kyle winced at Sloan's question. ―Shit, Sloan. I haven't had a chance to. I just woke up about ten minutes ago, and since then I've been trying to get things straightened out with this illustrious representative of the fucking FB of I here.‖ ―Hello, Mr. Johnson. I'm Special Agent Jackson.‖ The smoky voice was definitely irritated, and Sloan thought she was probably speaking through clenched teeth. He turned his head to see a statuesque woman with dark skin and gray eyes looking at him. ―Did you call Kendra?‖ he asked her. When she raised her brow in surprise, he said, ―I assume since you're the FBI and you want my brother's help, you've been keeping up with his activities, so you know I'm getting married.‖ ―Can you sit up?‖ Kyle asked him.

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Gingerly Sloan lifted his head again and, with the help of Kyle and the agent, was able to sit up. For the first time he noticed that two men were standing by the door, and he assumed they were other agents. He touched a hand to the back of his head and felt the lump. ―Bobo also had a gun,‖ Kyle explained, ―and when you charged at Cliff, he hit you with the butt of it. Cliff got me. I wish I'd known what you were planning to do; then I could have been more effective.‖ Sloan ignored that. ―I need a phone and some painkillers.‖ He was handed a glass of water and two pills by Special Agent Jackson. ―Two should do it; they're eight hundred milligrams each.‖ Sloan thanked her, ignoring a snide comment Kyle made about the pills and her equally nasty response. He tossed the pills into his mouth and chased them with water. ―We'll need a statement from you, Mr. Johnson,‖ Special Agent Jackson said. ―And I need a phone,‖ Sloan said in reply. ―Where are the apes and the trained monkey?‖ ―In a cage, courtesy of local law enforcement. We called them when we got to town after following them here.‖ Kyle muttered something beginning with ―Action Jackson,‖ causing the agent to turn her whiplash tongue on him again. ―Jesus, will you two just find a bed and screw until you've gotten it out of your systems?‖ Into the immediate shocked silence Sloan said, ―I need a goddamn phone.‖ Special Agent Jackson scowled and looked at the men at the door, one of whom walked over and handed her a cell phone. ―I still need your statement,‖ she said to Sloan. Sloan held out a hand. ―I still need a phone.‖ Refusing to back down, he stared her in the eye. She didn't blink, and when she finally sighed and gave in, he could tell it was something she was not used to doing. He dialed Kendra's number. It went straight to voice mail. ―Kendra, baby. I'm on my way. Something happened, but I'm all right. I'll be right there.‖ ―Try Mom,‖ Kyle suggested. Sloan dialed his mother's telephone number as he rose. ―There's no answer,‖ he said and headed for the door. ―Hey, where do you think you're going?‖ Agent Jackson demanded. ―To my wedding.‖ Sloan looked at the two men who blocked the door. ―Make them move, Agent Jackson,‖ he said without turning around. ―Or you won't ever get a statement from me, and I'll make your life a living hell.‖ She must have signaled, because the men stepped away from the door. ―I'm keeping the phone,‖ Sloan said as he opened the door. ―Kyle, come on!‖ ―Don't bother,‖ Kyle said when Agent Jackson tried to block his path. ―You won't get one lick of help from me if you delay me one minute longer.‖ He smiled when she reluctantly stepped aside. ―See you in Tahoe, Agent,‖ he taunted on his way out. They rushed through the lobby and hailed a taxi. Sloan gave the driver the address of the church and continued to dial telephone numbers—all to no avail. He'd tried his mother, Amy, and his dad. He'd even tried a couple of his cousins. He dialed his mother again. ―Hey! Did you try Connor?‖ Kyle asked, but Sloan motioned for him to be quiet.

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―Mom? Hi—yes, I'm all right… Stop yelling, Mom. Yes, I know she's been waiting… I'm on my way… No, I didn't run out on her… Of course I know she's upset… Mom, will you please stop yelling at me and put Kendra on the phone?‖ Sloan listened for only a few seconds more before he closed the phone without saying good-bye. ―What is it?‖ Kyle asked. ―She left. Kendra is gone.‖

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Chapter Twenty-four Anteroom at St. Catharine's, 11:55 a.m. Kendra felt drained and weepy, but she didn't cry. ―You're both sure?‖ she asked Mozell and Tory and closed her eyes when they both nodded. ―There haven't been any accidents reported,‖ Mozell said. ―We've checked the hospitals, and there's been nothing. In fact, according to the police, it's been remarkably quiet.‖ Amy sighed. ―Honey, I'm so sorry, but I don't think he's coming.‖ Kendra saw the anger and sadness in her eyes and had to look away, only to catch Mrs. Johnson gazing at her with pity. She closed her eyes to block it all out. ―Well, I gue…I guess his question was answered after all. Will you all please just go away?‖ she asked in a suffocated voice. ―I need some time alone.‖ ―All right, honey,‖ Camille said gently. ―But first we have to say something to the guests who are still here. I'm so sorry, baby. I really am, and I don't know what happened to Sloan. I'll make an announcement this time.‖ She had already done so once, as had Mr. and Mrs. Johnson. Kendra looked back at Mrs. Johnson and Amy. They were his family after all. ―What do you think?‖ ―I think you should let Camille make the announcement,‖ Mrs. Johnson said with heavy disappointment. ―I'm so sorry, sweetheart. You don't know how much.‖ ―All right, then,‖ Kendra tried to say resolutely, but her voice was shaking too much and was so soft and low that she sounded exactly how she felt: desolate. ―I'm leaving. I'm leaving right now. Mom, will you please make my apologies?‖ She paused before she left. ―Tell them to please head over to South Shore for the reception.‖ Amy, Mrs. Johnson, Tory, and Mozell hurried after her as she opened the side door in hopes of sneaking out before anyone saw her. She knew it was cowardly, but she simply couldn't face anyone. ―Wait, dear, please.‖ Mrs. Johnson grabbed her arm, and Kendra froze, not wanting to turn around. ―Where will you go?‖ Mr. Johnson, Connor, and Sam walked down the narrow hall outside the office. ―No word yet?‖ Mr. Johnson asked. Keeping her back turned, Kendra made herself stand there, when all she wanted to do was run—run and hide. She wished she could just as easily outrun her thoughts. ―No. Camille is going to make an announcement and our apologies. Kendra,‖ Mrs. Johnson said hesitantly. ―Sweetheart. Where will you go?‖

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―I'll take her to Camille's,‖ Tory said when Kendra tensed and didn't answer. ―She'll be fine.‖

*** ―Damn, Sloan, I'm sorry,‖ Kyle said. ―This is all my fault. If those losers hadn't followed me here—‖ ―Don't,‖ Sloan said quietly with his eyes still focused ahead. ―It's not your fault; it's theirs, but bigger than that, Kendra didn't wait for me.‖ He looked at his watch. ―It hasn't even been an hour yet, and she's already gone.‖ Kyle winced at the sound of Sloan's voice. It was soft and quiet: a sure sign that he was furious. ―Well, actually, Sloan, it's been almost two hours since you were supposed to be there.‖ ―It doesn't matter. She should know me better by now,‖ he said in the same tone. He leaned forward. ―Take a right at the next light, driver. Forget the other address.‖ ―We're going to your place, right?‖ Sloan rattled off his address to the driver. ―She's gone home to pack,‖ he said with certainty as he sat back with a scowl on his face. ―She's leaving me.‖ Still concerned, Kyle said, ―Don't do anything you're going to regret, Sloan.‖ Sloan ignored him. ―Kendra, honey…‖ Mozell's voice was hesitant and concerned as she watched Kendra haphazardly throw clothes into the suitcase she had opened on Sloan's and her bed. ―Are you sure you want to do this?‖ She walked farther into the room. ―I mean, don't you want to give him a chance to explain?‖ ―Yeah, Ken,‖ Tory said. ―There's got to be an explanation.‖ Kendra made herself ignore their words and the emotions churning inside of her. If she didn't, she'd never be able to do what was needed. He left me, he left me, he left me. The words went through her head like a taunting dirge. She shut the suitcase and locked it, refusing to meet her friends' eyes as she moved it to the floor. She hurried over to the closet to grab another one. ―What is there to explain, Tory? Yes, I'm sure I want to do this,‖ she said carefully and concisely, keeping all emotion out of her voice. ―Now, are you going to help me or not?‖ She finally looked at them. ―Don't, guys,‖ she whispered painfully and closed her eyes against the sympathy in the other women's eyes. ―I can't do this if you're going to look at me like that. Please,‖ she said, and her voice was desperate. ―Please, just help me.‖ She sank onto the bed tiredly. ―What do you want us to do?‖ Tory asked. Kendra rose from the bed and grabbed jeans and a shirt. ―I'm going to get out of this dress, and while I'm doing that, you guys could empty the clothes out of that dresser over there and put them into the suitcase.‖ She pointed it out and rushed into the bathroom. Kendra closed the door behind herself and leaned on it with her eyes closed. He left me, he left me, he left me. She couldn't believe it had actually happened. All of her worst fears had come true, and Sloan had jilted her on their wedding day. ―Don't think, Kendra, just do.‖ Taking deep breaths, she pushed away from the door and began to undress. The shoes came first and then the garter belt and stockings.

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Straightening, she reached over her shoulder for the first hook of at least twenty on the gown, and slipped it through its mooring. The second one came undone just as easily. She went for the third one and could barely reach it. ―Oh, come on!‖ she demanded despairingly and sighed when she was able to get her fingers around it. In an effort to make the process easier, she took hold of the scalloped top of the dress and tried to swish it around her body so that the hooks were in the front, but couldn't budge it. Gritting her teeth, she reached around her torso and tried to complete the task that way. She started from the bottom and made her way to the top, unhooking as she went along. Her fingers grasped the bottom of a hook but continued to slip every time she tried to slip it through. He left me, he left me, he left me. Sweating and gritting her teeth, she swore under her breath. ―Damn it!‖ It was just too much, and she felt tears prick her eyes. ―Damn it! Damn it! Damn it !‖ The words became a litany that grew louder until she was screaming them and pulling at the sides of the dress, determined now to rip it off if she had to. She heard the door open and dropped her head in defeat, letting the tears that had wanted to fall all day finally have their way. Her hands dropped to her sides, and she stood there, crying without a sound. ―Oh, sweetheart,‖ Tory said softly. ―Let us help you.‖ Still silent, Kendra buried her face in her hands. ―It's all right, honey,‖ Mozell soothed as she took her in her arms. ―Just let it out. It's all right.‖ Unable to stand it any longer, Kendra broke. She held on tightly to Mozell and sobbed. ―He left me,‖ she cried when she felt Tory's arms come around her from the back. ―He left me.‖ Mozell and Tory walked Kendra back into the bedroom and sat with her on the bed, then held her until she stopped crying. Kendra lifted her head. ―Thanks,‖ she said to Tory, who'd handed her a cold washcloth. ―Do you want to talk about it?‖ Mozell asked. ―No. There's nothing to talk about. I just need to finish and get out of here.‖ ―But, honey, what if he comes here—‖ ―He won't,‖ Kendra cut Tory off. ―At least not right away. He left me.‖ ―But you don't know that,‖ Mozell protested. ―Don't you want to hear what he has to say?‖ ―No. He left me. What else is there?‖ Kendra rose from the bed. ―Will one of you finish undoing these hooks for me? They're stuck.‖ She gave them her back and stood quietly while Mozell finished unhooking the dress. She offered a soft thanks when the job was completed, and she walked back into the bathroom. A short while later she came out with the dress in her hand. Tossing it onto the bed, she considered throwing it away but decided to just leave it in the apartment. ―Thanks for packing the rest of my stuff for me,‖ she said as she noticed the suitcases. Altogether there were three and her makeup clutch. After putting on sneakers and socks, she bent to grab one of the suitcases. Her brow quirked in question when she couldn't lift it. ―I told you not to put all of the shoes in one suitcase,‖ Tory muttered to Mozell. ―I was in a hurry. I'll carry the damned thing.‖

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―Thanks. I'll just get my car keys from the kitchen, and we'll be on our way,‖ Kendra told them and grabbed one of her everyday purses, which still held her checkbook and some credit cards. She put the strap over her shoulder and picked up her makeup clutch. ―You still have my wedding purse, don't you, Tory?‖ Kendra asked. It held her driver's license, passport, emergency cash, and house keys. She'd stopped and gotten their extra keys from her neighbor Ms. Weingarten. ―It's in the trunk of Mozell's car,‖ Tory confirmed. ―All right, then. I'm ready.‖ Kendra picked up a suitcase. ―But, Kendra, you can't drive,‖ Mozell protested as she picked up the shoe suitcase and followed her down the hall and into the kitchen. ―You're too upset.‖ ―Fine,‖ Kendra said. She snatched her car keys off the hook, tossed them to Tory. ―Tory will drive, and you'll follow us.‖ Suitcases in hand, the three women walked to the door. ―Where are we going, Kendra?‖ Tory asked. Sloan scowled at Kendra and her friends and the suitcases, furious that he had been right. She was leaving him. His gaze went back to her face. She looked surprised. Didn't think I would come home, did you? His scowl deepened when he saw that her eyes were red and swollen like she'd been crying. This was just more proof to him that she had no faith in him. Furious, he was tempted to turn and walk back the way he came. The only thing that kept him there was the knowledge that he had been having second thoughts. ―Did you ever trust me, Kendra?‖ he asked her. Kendra blinked as if startled by the question, then frowned. Her eyes flicked to Kyle, who'd come in behind Sloan. She stiffened her spine and lifted her chin. ―I have to go,‖ she said in a stifled voice. ―Excuse me.‖ Sloan could see the resolve it took for her to keep from crying. Sloan didn't budge. ―I'm only going to explain what happened one time, Kendra. Are you ready to listen?‖ He saw her hand tighten on her purse, and she scowled back at him. ―I'm sure that there's nothing you can say that I want to hear,‖ she said in clipped tones. ―Is that really the way you feel?‖ Kendra nodded jerkily. ―Yes. That's the way I feel.‖ ―All right, then,‖ Sloan conceded with a nod. ―Just remember that this is the first time that I have ever let you down. You know me, and I would cut off my arm before I hurt you deliberately.‖ Kendra blinked at the truth and stopped her forward motion. ―Why don't you just listen to what he has to say, Ken?‖ ―She won't, Tory,‖ Sloan said. ―Her mother always listened to what her father had to say and then took him back to start the misery all over again. She refuses to trust me any more than that now.‖ Kendra shook her head again. ―Excuse me,‖ she said again without looking at Sloan. ―Fine. If that's the way you want it,‖ Sloan said furiously as he held the door open, ―then go. Get the fuck out.‖

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Sloan ignored her friends' gasps of outrage and Kyle's shocked exclamation of his name. Looking straight ahead, Kendra took a deep breath and kept walking. Mozell and Tory were close behind. Sloan slammed the door behind them. ―Are you just going to let her leave like that, Sloan?‖ Disbelief rang clearly in Kyle's tone. ―Yes. She wanted to go, so she should go. She never trusted me. Never.‖ ―You should have tried to see it from her point of view. It's her wedding day, and you, the man she's supposed to marry, didn't show up. You went at it all wrong, Sloan.‖ Anger churning, Sloan looked at him. ―Just how was I supposed to approach it, Kyle? You tell me. I have never done anything to cause her distrust. She could have given me the benefit of the doubt. She should have, damn it!‖ Kyle shook his head. ―But you called her and left her a message about being unsure about the wedding.‖ ―But I told her I was coming! And damn it, even if I had changed my mind about marrying her, I would have had the decency to tell her. You know I would have!‖ Kyle nodded in silent agreement. Still, he only said, ―You're too prideful, Sloan. It's her wedding day, man. You didn't show.‖ ―Stop saying that. It's my fucking wedding day too!‖ ―My not saying it won't make it any less true, or you any less miserable. You should have swallowed your pride and explained.‖ ―Why the hell should I have, Kyle? We've been together for four years—four years! She knows me better than anyone; at least I thought she did. And what good was therapy, anyway, if right when I needed her to, she refused to let go of old beliefs that have nothing to do with me?‖ ―I see what you're saying, but—‖ The ringing phone interrupted Kyle. Sloan answered. ―Yeah? Oh, hi, Amy. No… Be quiet and let me… No… Damn it, Amy, will you… Fuck it… I'm hanging up now.‖ ―What was that all about?‖ ―I don't want you to tell anyone about what happened at the hotel today, Kyle. Nobody.‖ ―What? Why not?‖ ―You'd think that my own family would know me well enough by now to ask what happened instead of slamming me with accusations.‖ Sloan looked at the caller ID when the phone rang again, and when he saw that it was Amy, picked up the receiver and dropped it right back into its cradle. ―Is that what Amy did? Make accusations?‖ ―Basically. So like I said, I don't want you telling anybody what really happened to me today. Let them believe the worst.‖ ―Come on, Sloan. That's just your pride talking. What about Mom and Dad?‖ ―What about them? I could hear them in the background. Promise me you won't tell them,‖ he demanded. ―That includes Kendra too.‖

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Chapter Twenty-five Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: More News on the Kendra Front Okay, all of you are wrong. I've got the real scoop about what happened with Kendra's wedding. Oops, I mean Kendra's near wedding (meow, lol). I heard that the groom didn't show because he got cold feet, but after about an hour, showed up at the church only to find out that she'd already left. Can anyone confirm this???!! If you know anything, come on. Share and share alike, damn it! Kendra sat at her desk and read the e-mail for a third time. She couldn't believe that people were still interested. Obviously she wasn't meant to see the e-mail, which happened to be the fifth in a long list of them, she saw as she traced the history. She wondered what the writers would think when they realized she'd been included in this latest volley. She smiled in retaliation as she pushed closer to the desk and prepared to type. ―Miserable, prying gossips,‖ she grumbled as her fingers flew over the keys. ―Let's make this a little more interesting, shall we?‖ It's my humble opinion that my business should remain just that: my business. It shouldn't be speculated on or greedily salivated over as if it were a three-course meal offered to a saint coming off a five-day fast. If you don't agree with me, however, please do me a favor and go to www.kissKendrasass.com. If that's not your cup of tea, then check out www.Kendrasaysgotohell.com. Do it with my blessings. Peace, Kendra Satisfied with her response, Kendra clicked Send. ―That will get 'em,‖ she whispered gleefully. A moment later, she was frowning again, all traces of humor gone. It had been four weeks since her wedding date and four weeks since she'd seen or heard from Sloan. ―You're not supposed to think about him, Kendra,‖ she reminded herself sternly. But it's so hard not to. She put her head on her desk and indulged in self-pity. Why hadn't he called her? It had been almost a month, and she hadn't heard one peep out of him. The fact that he hasn't called only confirms that I was right. He didn't want to marry me. A part of her had been hoping she was wrong about Sloan. And even though she'd drawn such a hard line in the sand, she had still hoped that he would come and find her and convince her that she was wrong, that he did love her and he wasn't like her father. Honesty forced her to admit that she still hoped for those things to happen. ―Pull yourself together. You're not the first woman to be jilted. Get over it.‖

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She'd been telling everyone else to do just that. Tory, Mozell, and Connor kept on her about getting in touch with Sloan, and she dashed their hopes every time. After she'd left her house that day, she'd gone to stay at the hotel with Tory. And after Tory had gone, Kendra had moved in with Mozell and had embarked on an apartment search. She thought finding a place to sublet was what finally made everyone see there was no going back. She'd found an apartment two blocks over from her old place. It was smaller than she was used to, but she liked it. ―Now all I have to do is find out if Sloan wants to sell the apartment or buy me out.‖ She wasn't ready to talk to him yet, so she hadn't contacted him. She had, however, taken her share from their joint bank accounts and disbursed the money into accounts that were only in her name. She'd taken care of the physical things, but emotionally she was a wreck. She was barely sleeping, so she worked like a fiend, coming into the office early and leaving for home late. She knew she looked a mess, with her bag-ridden eyes, listless hair, and sagging clothes. She'd lost weight because she only ate when hunger was threatening to gnaw a hole through her stomach. Kendra was brought out of her thoughts by the high-pitched ringing of her phone. She fully expected her secretary to get it, but when it continued to ring, she picked it up herself. ―L and H, this is Kendra.‖ ―Well, hot damn!‖ Amy said. ―You're finally speaking to me.‖ Kendra grimaced. Damn it, she thought, caught. ―I really can't talk right now, Amy. I'm swamped—‖ ―Don't give me that shit, Kendra. It's lunchtime, and I know that even in that sweat factory you call a company, you get a lunch break. If you don't want to talk to me, just say so, but don't lie to me. You owe me better than that.‖ Kendra sighed and shut her eyes. ―I'm sorry, Amy. You're right. I have been avoiding you and your family.‖ ―I know that, but I need to understand why. We didn't do anything wrong.‖ ―I know. It's just that it's so hard to be around you guys and not think about Sloan. I'm not ready yet.‖ ―How do you know how hard it will be? We haven't seen you since the day it happened.‖ ―I know, but—‖ ―No buts, Kendra. We miss you, especially Mom and Dad. They think of you as family. We all do.‖ Guilt pushed at Kendra. ―I miss you guys too.‖ ―Then why don't you come out to Mom and Dad's for dinner? How about Sunday? I'll bring the kids and everything. We're all dying to see you.‖ ―I'm sorry, Amy, but I have to ask. You're not trying to get Sloan and me back together, are you? He won't be there, will he?‖ ―No to both questions,‖ Amy said quietly. ―I'd be lying if I said that I didn't want you two back together, but I'm not going to try to do it. I mean, I am a woman of many talents, but I know that I can't fix this for you two.‖ ―All right, then. What time?‖ She wrote the time down and looked up when someone knocked. When Mozell pushed the door open a crack, Kendra gestured for her to come in while

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she finished her conversation. ―Okay, Amy. I'll see you then… It'll be good to see you too… Uhhuh… Bye.‖ ―So you're finally going to go visit the Johnsons, huh?‖ Mozell asked as she sat down. ―Yeah. I guess it is about time. The Johnsons have been good to me, and I love them like family. There's no sense in avoiding them anymore.‖ ―Amen to that,‖ Mozell agreed. ―How about your therapist?‖ ―How about her?‖ ―Are you going to stop avoiding her too?‖ ―I'm not avoiding her. I've just missed a few appointments.‖ ―A few, Kendra?‖ ―When you figure in the fact that I was going to miss two anyway because of my honeymoon, it's not that big a deal.‖ ―Who are you kidding? Out of the last two appointments that you would have had after your honeymoon, you've missed, uh, let's see… Oh, that's right, two. That's not a big deal?‖ ―Shut up.‖ The tone was clipped and serious. ―All right. I won't say anything else about it.‖ ―Thank you. What's up?‖ Mozell waved a sheet of paper. ―This is! Jeez, Kendra, I thought I had a knack for the verbal punch, but you took the cake with this e-mail! God, you got them good!‖ Kendra smiled. ―Didn't I, though?‖ ―Yeah! You've got people ducking and hiding, hoping they don't run into you in the halls. Hell, they're even hiding from me!‖ ―How'd you get a copy of it anyway?‖ ―My secretary forwarded it to me, and I printed it out. She got it from another secretary, who got it from an intern, and so on and so on. You know how it goes. I can't believe you, though—www.kissKendrasass.com—I love it!‖ ―Thank you, thank you very much.‖ Kendra did her best Elvis impersonation. ―I thought about putting kiss my black ass but figured that would be going too far,‖ she said nonchalantly and smiled again when Mozell laughed so hard that tears sprang to her eyes. ―Oh, that would have really got them.‖ ―I was just so mad, and I can't believe that people are still talking about it!‖ ―They're still talking about it because (a) you haven't said word one about it, and (b) nothing else has come up to take its place.‖ ―I beg to differ. They should be worrying about what's going on here. We've got people quitting left and right.‖ ―Oh, that's nothing. This industry is fickle and cyclical. People quit all the time,‖ Mozell said dismissively. ―We've had six people quit, Mo—six. That's more than fickle—that's rats deserting what they perceive to be a sinking ship.‖ ―Ah, but perceive is the key word here. And besides, two have already been replaced.‖

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―I know that.‖ Kendra pouted. ―But still, that should be more important than a wedding that didn't take place. But I guess there's nothing I can do about it. Want to go to lunch?‖ Mozell perked up. Kendra hadn't wanted to go out to lunch for weeks. ―You buying?‖ she asked. Kendra snorted. ―You're the one pulling in the big bucks, Ms. Vice President. You buy!‖ She took her purse out of a drawer and rose to walk around her desk. ―Oh please. Vice presidents are a dime a dozen in our industry. My salary barely keeps me in socks and underwear.‖

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Chapter Twenty-six ―I'd like for you to just listen to what I have to say before you ask any questions, Dr. Pendegrast,‖ Kendra said as she made herself comfortable. She had awakened that morning feeling that it was time to purge her system. She had a story that she'd been holding back from the doctor and everyone else, including herself. ―I need to tell you something, and I need to do it without any interruptions. Will you just listen and ask questions later?‖ ―Of course.‖ She took a deep breath and began. ―I've never told anyone else this, but when my father left us that last time, I completely broke down. It wasn't just that he'd left and had said he wasn't coming back, but my mother left me that day too.‖ She nervously wiped her damp palms down her jeans and took another deep breath. ―She came back, but there was a period for at least twenty-four hours where I had no idea where she was, and I thought that just like my father, she wouldn't be back. ―During those twenty-four hours, I suffered badly. I kept wondering what it was about me that made people want to leave me, and I couldn't for the life of me come up with an answer.‖ Here, her voice broke in remembered pain and confusion, and she stopped to compose herself, balling her hands together into a single fist and pressing them between her knees. ―I, uh, I didn't even know that she was gone at first. I'd been in my room, wrapped up in my own misery, and I fell asleep. I didn't come out until hunger drove me out. And that's when I noticed that she wasn't home. She hadn't left a note, but still, it wasn't really that big a deal because I thought that maybe she was next door at Ms. Myrtle's house or something. But hours passed without any word from her, and by the time night fell, I was desperate and in a panic. ―I guess a lot of twelve-year-olds would have coped better with the situation, but not me. I was a basket case, Dr. Pendegrast. Because of my dad, I could never really stand to be left alone. I had never grown accustomed to his constant leaving. It had made me terrified to be alone. I never got used to it,‖ she said vehemently with her eyes closed and her hands now visible in her lap, but still clasped in a fist. ―You know,‖ she said conversationally and opened her eyes. ―Sometimes I actually hated him. I tried not to show it because I never wanted to ruin his homecoming and maybe make him leave again. Every time he came home, I was on pins and needles wondering when he was going to leave again. That's an awful way to live.‖ She sighed. ―Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, my mother. Uh…did I mention that I'd searched every room of the house for her when I first realized she wasn't home? Pretty crazy, right?‖ she asked with a sad smile. ―I mean, I was twelve years old, for God's sake. I should have just made myself some lunch, watched television, and waited for her to come home. Not me. I tore that house apart, and that was before panic set in. ―The house was empty except for me. I was completely alone, and it was then that I realized that I could conceivably be that way for the rest of my life. After all, what was to keep

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my mother from abandoning me the way my father had? She'd already done the deed emotionally. All that was left was the physical. All of those thoughts went through my head—not exactly in those words, of course—and I was terrified. ―I'm not using that word lightly, Dr. Pendegrast. I was so terrified that I couldn't do anything. I didn't eat, shower, sleep—nothing. All I did—all I could do—was watch the door and wait. It was like I was frozen in place right there in front of that door. She didn't call to let me know where she was or if she was all right. I didn't leave the house to look for her, because irrationally I thought she might come home while I was gone and then she'd have to go looking for me and I'd miss her and the waiting would start all over again. I didn't use the phone at all, because I thought if I used it, I could miss her call. So all I did was wait, worry, and pray that she would come back. ―I got on my knees by the door, and I prayed. Fervently. I begged God to send her back, and I promised him that whatever it was I had done wrong, I would never do again if he'd just send her home—I'm sorry. Please give me a minute‖ She pressed her fingers to her eyes when she felt tears threatening. ―Take your time,‖ Dr. Pendegrast said and put a box of tissues in Kendra's lap. Kendra wiped her eyes. ―She came in at exactly four that next afternoon. There was no apology, explanation, shame, or anything else. She just walked in as if nothing had happened.‖ Her lips turned down sulkily as she remembered. ―I was hysterical and fell all over her crying my heart out. I clung to her, begging her never to leave me like that again. I didn't care where she'd been; I just wanted her to promise that she'd stay with me. I'm embarrassed to think about it now, but I was so needy,‖ she said with a shudder. ―Anyway, after she finally succeeded in prying my arms from around her waist, she told me that she was sorry and that everything would be okay and that I needed to stop acting like a baby, because after all, I was twelve years old, and she wasn't going to be with me forever. ―Well, I clung to her a little while longer and then went to clean myself up. As I was showering, I decided that she was right and that I should never depend on her or anybody else for my emotional well-being again. I told myself to get strong and stop acting like a big baby. I couldn't depend on my mother for anything except for food, shelter, and clothing. The rest was up to me.‖ ―What made you tell me the story now, Kendra?‖ Dr. Pendegrast asked when Kendra fell silent. ―I just figured it was time and that it would help you to understand things better.‖ ―What things are you referring to?‖ Kendra shrugged. ―Just this whole thing with Sloan; why it's so difficult for me to forgive him. He's a part of the problem now.‖ ―Uh-huh. I don't think I understand. Will you explain?‖ ―I can't, except to say that Sloan hurt me. I opened myself up to him, and he hurt me.‖ ―This resolution that you made when you were twelve—why did you break it for Sloan?‖ Kendra smiled as she thought about it. ―He wouldn't let me do anything else. He was just so goofy and determined, you know? I tried to keep him at a distance, but he just wore me down.‖ ―Is that all?‖

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―Well, I couldn't resist him. And it was weird, but there was just this connection right away, so I forgot my promise to myself and let him in.‖ ―Let him in?‖ ―I opened myself up to him. I trusted him.‖ ―Do you regret doing that?‖ Kendra contemplated her answer. ―No, actually I don't. I loved being with him, and I was the happiest I've ever been.‖ ―And how are things with your mother?‖ Kendra frowned. ―Not good. I haven't seen her since my wedding day, and I've barely spoken to her since then either.‖ ―Why?‖ ―Because I don't feel like it. I'm mad that she was right all along, and I don't want to be around her when she gloats.‖ ―Are you sure she would? Gloat, I mean?‖ ―I don't know.‖ Kendra sighed, and then was forced to admit, ―No, she probably wouldn't, not in front of me anyway. But she would be gloating privately, I think. She probably would empathize with me and try to take care of me, but she'd still be secretly happy that things didn't work out.‖ ―Believing this, how would this make you feel?‖ ―I wouldn't like it, of course. Her sympathy would almost be worse than her saying I told you so. It's hard to explain, but her feeling sorry for me and being mad at Sloan when she'd been expecting failure the whole time would just be too hard to take.‖ ―Are you mad at your mother, Kendra?‖ Kendra froze at the question. ―Why do you ask that?‖ ―Because you picked today to tell me that story. A story in which you perceived your mother having abandoned you.‖ ―I don't want to answer that right now,‖ Kendra evaded as guilt took over. ―All right, all right,‖ she said angrily. Forget feeling guilty. Instead she railed, ―Yes, I am mad at her. I don't think she should have left me like that when she knew how neurotic I was about my father leaving. So what if I was twelve? And I'm mad at her for indoctrinating me the way she did.‖ ―Do you feel that it's her fault now that you can't forgive Sloan long enough to listen to his explanation?‖ Kendra deflated. ―No, no. It's all on me. I made that decision.‖ ―Before we end this session, I'd like to tell you that it doesn't matter that you were twelve when your mother left. With good reason, you were afraid, and your feelings were valid. You should never feel guilty about your feelings. You could have been eighteen, and the feelings still would have been valid.‖ ―All right.‖ ―You mentioned earlier that you were the happiest you've ever been when you were with Sloan. What are you now?‖

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The answer to that question gave Kendra pause enough to call her mother and ask her if she could come over to talk. She'd been studiously avoiding seeing her, and to say her mother was surprised at the request was putting it mildly. Kendra could hear the conflicting emotions in Camille's voice: hurt, anger, disbelief. But she agreed to see Kendra regardless. ―So, um, Mom, I'm sorry I've been avoiding you all this time,‖ Kendra said as she made herself comfortable in one of the armchairs in her mother's living room. ―Uh-huh.‖ Camille sounded skeptical as she handed Kendra a bottle of water, then sat down on the sofa. ―Why were you?‖ ―Uh, well.‖ Kendra took a sip from her water. ―Because I was mad at you because I blamed you for being right, and I blamed you for making me distrust men, in particular, Sloan.‖ She stopped and cleared her throat when Camille became poker straight and looked away from her. ―And I thought that maybe you'd be happy that Sloan had left me.‖ Now Camille looked back at her with tears in her eyes. ―What kind of person do you think I am? How could you think that I would be happy if you weren't, Kendra?‖ Swamped with guilt again, Kendra resisted the urge to rush over and comfort her mother. ―I just did because you were always warning me about Sloan, and you never seemed to care how unhappy it made me when you did it.‖ Camille's sigh was tremulous. ―Whether you believe it or not, Kendra, I'm not happy about Sloan's not showing up for your wedding. In fact, if you had bothered to talk to me for more than two minutes over the past few weeks, I would have told you how sorry I am that things turned out this way.‖ ―I probably wouldn't have believed you, Mom. You never liked Sloan, and I feel like you want me to be alone.‖ Camille drank deeply of her own water and sat contemplatively for a while. ―Ever since the whole thing happened, I've been thinking about myself and the role I may have played in the fiasco. Your distancing yourself from me forced me to.‖ ―And?‖ Kendra fought to remain patient when her mother fell silent. Camille looked uncomfortable. ―And…I realized that what I had been doing to you all these years was unfair.‖ ―Just like that?‖ Kendra's voice was filled with disbelief. ―You suddenly came to that realization out of the blue?‖ ―It wasn't sudden, Kendra, and I'll thank you to watch your tone—and stop rolling your eyes. I can see you, you know.‖ ―Oh please,‖ Kendra said with disgust. ―This is not the time to pull out the Mom card. Will you just please finish?‖ Camille pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes, showing her displeasure. ―As I said, it wasn't all of a sudden. However, what brought it on was seeing you. I was downtown last week, and I saw you coming out of a building, and you just looked so… Well, you just looked so shattered. And you're too thin. It made me sad to see you like that—so sad that I couldn't even call out to you. I imagined that you looked like I used to when your dad would leave. I would stop eating too. It hit me then that the last thing I wanted was for you to go through what I had and for you to be as miserable as I was. And that's what made me start thinking about what I'd been doing to you all these years.‖

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Kendra was quiet for a moment. She didn't know if she should be grateful for the revelation or angry that it had taken her mother so long to have it. ―I don't know what to say.‖ ―You don't have to say anything, just listen.‖

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Chapter Twenty-seven Sloan looked up from his computer screen when he heard noises outside his door in his secretary's area. He sat up in his chair. He could have sworn he was the only one left on their floor. The cleaning crew had already been through. Who the hell could be out there? He supposed it could be the security guard, but he immediately thought of the thief. He heard a file drawer open and rose to walk stealthily over to his door. He pulled it open. ―What the hell are you doing, Emily?‖ he demanded of Peter's secretary. So, she's the one. The thought gave him grim satisfaction. He watched her jerk around, dropping the file she held in her hand in the process. Emily pressed her hand to her chest and quickly bent down to stuff scattered papers back into the manila folder. ―You startled me, Mr. Johnson. I didn't know you were still here, sir.‖ She looked behind him at his office. ―Oh! No wonder I didn't see a light under the door. You're working in the dark.‖ ―I only need the light from the computer screen,‖ Sloan replied as he studied her. ―What's in the folder? Why are you going through Mrs. Cantera's files?‖ ―Oh, Mr. Taylor asked me to pull some stuff from your case—the very first one you ever had or won.‖ ―The Tobias case? Why would Peter need that file?‖ The Tobias case was largely responsible for his firm's rapid growth. An old college friend who owned a small software company had been sued by a former employee for illegal termination and sex discrimination. The plaintiff had claimed that she'd been fired because she'd complained of sexual harassment. The case had been in the news constantly because she came from one of the country's wealthiest, most famous political families. After he'd won the case against a cadre of high-powered lawyers, Sloan had filed a defamation suit on behalf of his friend and had won a huge out-of-court settlement. Business had been booming ever since. ―Mr. Taylor says it has a lot of similarities to a current case—the Childers matter?‖ Sloan nodded. ―Yes, I can see that. But why didn't you just get the information from the shared drive?‖ Emily swallowed loudly, making Sloan's already quivering antennae shiver even more. What is she so nervous about? He stepped closer to read the name on the folder. Emily cleared her throat. ―Well, I'm summarizing everything, and I like to have the actual hard copy in front of me, so I thought it would just be easier to retrieve the original instead of printing everything out again.‖ ―All right, but that's a huge case file, and most everything is in storage. Will you be visiting the off-site facility?‖

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Emily laughed lightly, apparently catching Sloan's mild sarcasm. ―Uh, no, sir. If I get that desperate, I'll print it out instead of traveling twenty miles. For now I just need Mrs. Cantera's files that have her notes and things.‖ ―Don't stay too late,‖ Sloan said and went back into his office, shutting the door behind him. Twenty minutes later Sloan heard noise in the outer office again. He sighed impatiently. ―Is that you again, Emily?‖ he called without rising. ―No, it's not Emily; it's me,‖ Connor said as he walked in and sat down. ―George told me just to come on up after I signed in downstairs. Who's Emily?‖ ―She's a secretary here and one of my suspects. I caught her rifling through the files a little while ago and thought maybe I'd caught the thief.‖ ―I take it you hadn't?‖ ―I don't know,‖ Sloan muttered. ―If she is the thief, she wasn't stealing anything tonight.‖ ―No luck in identification yet, huh?‖ ―Nope. Every time I think I'm close, I get fooled. There are just far too many suspects.‖ ―I think you might need to count this one as a loss, my friend,‖ Connor said. Sloan threw him a look of disgust. ―Would you if you were me?‖ ―I might seriously consider it, especially since the FBI and the state's attorney have relieved the pressure.‖ ―They only did that because I replaced the stolen funds.‖ Connor nodded. ―That, and Mrs. Patterson is alive and well on that cruise ship, and she isn't making a big deal of the theft. They've got bigger fish to fry. Your case is kind of small potatoes now.‖ ―Yeah, kind of,‖ Sloan muttered. ―That doesn't keep them from investigating my firm and barging in here anytime they want. I could lose out big on this one, Connor. If the thief isn't caught, I could lose my license. I've already had to inform my other clients about the theft and the investigation.‖ ―Have any of them left you?‖ ―No, not yet, but that doesn't mean some won't. And who says Mrs. Patterson's alive?‖ Connor sighed. ―You've talked to her, Sloan. Besides that, you've seen the proof in the money paid to the cruise line, the ship's manifest, and the picture.‖ ―The picture was grainy, and just because money was paid doesn't mean she's on the ship. You already know how I feel about the manifest.‖ ―I don't get why you refuse to believe she's alive.‖ ―Because that nephew of hers practically oozes menace, and I know he'd kill for the money.‖ ―I suppose you told Vernita all of this.‖ ―Oh yeah, a while ago. She sent a couple of cops over to talk to him. Unfortunately Barlow has the receipt showing that she had purchased the trip. He'd pulled it up online. He also called Mrs. Patterson. Of course it could have been anyone on the phone, and the receipt might just be for show, but it was enough to get the police off his back.‖

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―If you're not careful, you might get sued. You've got nothing but your suspicions, and those aren't enough. You need to stop before you get accused of harassing him. But, if Sims is involved at all, the visit from the police tipped him off that you know about the theft and that you suspect him. If it makes him feel desperate enough, you might be in danger. But I suppose you thought of all of that, right?‖ ―Of course I did,‖ Sloan said with satisfaction. ―If things go as I'd like, at least it might get me closer to his accomplice. Anyway, is that why you came—to talk about the case?‖ Connor nodded. ―That, and because I knew I'd find you here working yourself to exhaustion, you'll be too tired to think about Kendra and actually get yourself some sleep.‖ Sloan said nothing. It was true. He didn't want to talk about his failed relationship. He couldn't afford the energy. Every time he thought about what had happened, he got furious, and fury was an emotion he couldn't afford. Besides the theft, he had a huge court case coming up and needed to focus all of his energy on that. Connor looked at the couch. A blanket was folded neatly in the corner of it. ―So you sleep here too, huh? Have you got extra suits here?‖ Still, Sloan said nothing. Connor didn't need to know there were extra suits in his office closet and that he used his private bathroom to clean up on those nights when he did sleep in his office. ―Come on, Sloan. It's been—‖ ―It doesn't matter how long it's been,‖ he cut Connor off, unable to let that comment go. ―I can't stop loving her on a timetable.‖ Connor sighed. ―I know you can't, and no one's expecting you to. If you had let me finish, you would have heard me ask when you were going to tell Kendra and other people what happened that day.‖ Besides Kyle, Connor was the only one who knew anything about the fiasco in the hotel room. Connor had been the only one to ask him what had happened. Sloan knew Connor well enough to know that he wasn't going to give up. ―I'm not going to tell her.‖ He was adamant. ―I tried to, and she wouldn't listen.‖ ―Yeah, but you also left her a message that morning saying that you were having second thoughts—‖ ―I know that!‖ Sloan interrupted impatiently. ―And that's why I tried calling her again the next day and the next. She wouldn't take my calls. And then I thought about it. Why should I keep trying? I did nothing—absolutely nothing—wrong. But she chooses to believe that I can't be trusted, so there you have it.‖ ―But you're miserable—both of you. Kendra walks around the office like some sort of wraith, and all she does is work too.‖ ―I don't know what you want me to do, Connor. I'm furious with her. As much as I love her, I'm not going to beg. If I had actually done something wrong, then I would consider it, but the fault is not mine. And so what if I had a single lapse in confidence about our relationship? Aren't I entitled? Hell, our entire relationship has practically been one big lapse in confidence for her. And my slip was a direct result of her neurosis, not something outside the relationship that she had nothing to do with!‖ ―Yes, but—‖

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―No! Kendra has to trust me. If I keep trying to explain and she finally listens, then what?‖ ―What do you mean?‖ Sloan pressed his fingers to his temples. He'd had a headache for days. ―Say we get back together and everything is hunky-dory because I explained. What's to happen the next time there's a misunderstanding? Will I have to go through this again?‖ ―Sloan, it was her wedding day. Plus, she's neurotic about trust, and you knew that going in.‖ ―Yes, I did,‖ Sloan agreed, but then his effort to stay calm became a complete failure, and he pushed back from the desk and stood to pace. ―Damn it, Connor. She condemned me the first time something went wrong. I don't want a marriage like that. I'd be a fool to want it.‖ Connor watched him for a long moment. ―Then why don't you just tell her that, Sloan? Just tell her.‖ ―No. I want her back, Connor, believe me, I do, but I can't keep giving in to this fear she has of my leaving. She has to fix this herself.‖ ―So what's your plan, then?‖ ―I don't have one. The only thing I can do is hope and pray that she realizes what we had and that I would never do anything to hurt her on purpose.‖ He shrugged and sat back down. ―She has to come to me, or we'll never work.‖ ―She's moved out of Mozell's place. She found a nice apartment just a couple of blocks away from yours. She's subletting it until she finds something more permanent.‖ ―I know,‖ Sloan said tiredly. ―You already told me, remember? You called after you finished helping her move.‖ ―Well, for both your sakes, I hope you know what you're doing. She is so obviously miserable that it's almost painful to look at her. She's lost weight, and I can tell from the circles under her eyes that she's not sleeping well. She looks unhealthy.‖ Sloan did his best to ignore the twinge in his heart and had to bite his tongue to keep from asking how much weight she'd lost. ―I'm sorry about that, but there's nothing I can do. I'm just as miserable.‖ ―Damn, you're a stubborn bastard,‖ Connor said in disgust. Sloan only quirked a brow. ―I came in here just knowing I could persuade you to make a move. None of my efforts have worked with Kendra.‖ Sloan caught himself before he could ask what Kendra's arguments were. ―I can't help you. Besides, in my place, you'd do the same thing.‖ Connor didn't deny it.

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Chapter Twenty-eight ―I don't know, Barlow. I'm not so sure your plan will work.‖ Barlow sighed impatiently and resisted the urge to shake the shit out of his lover. Stupid bitch, he thought. God, he hated whiners. ―Of course it'll work, baby. It has to. Otherwise we're in deep shit. I told you about the police coming over to see me and how Sloan put them up to it. He definitely suspects me.‖ ―Yes, but—‖ ―No buts.‖ Barlow's voice was hard. ―Don't think that you're in the clear just because they don't know you've been helping me.‖ ―You'd tell on me, Bar?‖ Barlow snorted. ―Honey, I'd sing like the proverbial fucking canary. Barlow Sims is not the kind of person who goes down alone. If I'm in it for the long haul, then so are you.‖ ―But if I got caught, I'd never give you up.‖ I'm so sick of this shit. Barlow recoiled in disgust when the tears started falling. Compassion, Barlow. Show some fucking compassion. It's the last time you'll have to do it. ―Hush up, baby. You know this whole conversation is moot anyway, because we're going to get away with it.‖ ―Yes, but I never thought we'd have to kill Sloan.‖ ―Neither did I, but it's either him or us now, and the sooner we do it the better. My aunt will be home tomorrow, and we can't take the chance he'll tell her about my being involved in the theft. I'd have preferred we got more than the quarter of a mil we did, but it will have to do.‖ ―But—‖ Barlow sipped from the tearstained cheeks, finally softly sliding his tongue into the mouth that eagerly opened under his. ―We'll be fine. You said Sloan has been working late every night. You have access to the parking garage. All we have to do is ambush him there.‖ ―I know—‖ ―Hush now. You don't want me to go to jail, do you?‖ Barlow asked softly as he continued to kiss and stroke. ―Everything will go off without a hitch tomorrow; you'll see. You trust me, don't you, sweetheart?‖ ―Yes.‖ ―Good. Now lie down and let me take care of you. Barlow loves taking care of his baby.‖ Surrender was swift—and dangerous. What Barlow didn't say was that he wouldn't be the one to go down if they got caught, because he hadn't been the one doing the actual stealing. Nor did Barlow Sims like deadweight; he planned to leave that parking garage alone the next night.

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*** ―Hey, you.‖ Kendra looked up from the computer monitor and greeted Connor with a pleased smile. ―Hey, yourself. Busy?‖ ―Always, but I think I can spare you a little time. I'm trying to reconcile a budget that just won't add up, and I'm tired of it. Come on in.‖ ―Mind if I shut the door?‖ ―No, not if you find it necessary.‖ Connor closed the door behind him and walked in to sit down. ―I'll just get straight to the point. You can't seriously believe that Sloan would do anything to deliberately hurt you. He loves you too much.‖ ―I know he loves me, Connor, but all I keep thinking about is how he didn't show up on our wedding day.‖ Connor struggled with his conscience. His conscience won. He'd promised Sloan he wouldn't tell. ―You can't get past that at all?‖ Kendra shook her head. ―No, not really. I thought I'd be able to, but it hasn't happened. It's almost like a recurring nightmare for me. It won't let me go.‖ Connor looked at her with a frown. ―Damn, that's too bad, Kendra, because if ever there were two people who belonged together, it's you and Sloan.‖ Kendra grimaced. ―I don't know what to do, Connor. I love him so much, but there's that barrier of distrust that I can't get rid of. He isn't willing to be with me so long as it's there, and I can't blame him. I want to change. I really do.‖ ―Yeah, I know.‖ ―He wouldn't even tell me why he missed our wedding.‖ ―To borrow your words: you can't blame him.‖ ―Oh gee, thanks for understanding.‖ ―I think it's too late for explanations now anyway, Kendra. Sloan is right; you should trust him. So tell me what else has been going on in your life.‖ He saw her surprise at the quick change of subject but didn't say anything further. ―What's going on in my life? Oh, nothing but work, work, and more work. You know how it is.‖ She cleared her throat. ―Uh…how's Sloan doing?‖ ―Same as you: not so good, but hanging in there. He's still no closer to figuring out who the thief in his firm is, so that's bugging him. Speaking of which‖—the lie formed quickly in his mind and slipped easily from his lips—―this theft has brought out a side of him I've never seen. But I guess he feels desperate times call for desperate measures.‖ ―What do you mean?‖ ―His impatience has made him completely reckless. He told me that he was going to tell all the potential suspects that he knows about the theft and that he knows who did it. He figures this will help him draw the thief out, and he's going to wait for him or her to approach him.‖ Kendra shrugged. ―Sounds good to me; I'd probably do the same thing if I were in his shoes and hadn't found out by now who the fucker is.‖

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Connor furrowed his brow. ―But don't you see how dangerous that could be for him?‖ He leaned forward in his chair when she only looked confused. ―What if the thief or thieves panic and decide that they need to get rid of Sloan?‖ Kendra's frown deepened. ―Oh, well, I don't think—‖ ―Nobody ever thought that any one of the suspects would steal either, but one—or more— of them is.‖ ―When is Sloan supposed to do this?‖ ―Today, right before the firm shuts down. Everyone knows he's been staying late a lot lately, and he figures the thief will take that opportunity to approach him then, when the office is empty. According to Sloan, everyone's usually gone by seven thirty, unless there's a big case going on, which at the present time, there isn't—at least not one that they're deeply involved in yet.‖ Kendra looked scared as she hurriedly stood. ―Well, why didn't you stop him, Connor?‖ she demanded as she leaned forward with her hands on her desk. Connor lifted a brow. ―Me? Stop Sloan? You know how impossible he is once he gets something in his head. He won't listen to me, but maybe you can convince him that it's a stupid idea.‖ Kendra gathered her things. ―Hmm?‖ She looked at her watch. ―It's six thirty now. It will be quicker for me to walk. I'll get there in time enough to try to convince the stubborn idiot to go home. I'm sorry, Connor,‖ she said as she rounded her desk and grabbed her jacket from the hook behind the door. ―But I've got to go.‖ ―That's fine,‖ Connor said and hid his smug grin. ―I completely understand.‖

*** ―What are you doing here? And how did the hell did you get up here without my finding out first?‖ Sloan demanded. Kendra winced visibly but continued into his office until she was in front of his desk. ―You know they all know me here. I guess they thought it was okay for me to come up and that they didn't need to call you.‖ ―Guess I'll have to remedy that misconception,‖ Sloan said sarcastically. He'd already had a bad day and didn't feel like playing nice. Besides, he knew that she wasn't there to discuss their problem. If she had wanted to do that, she'd have just tried to catch him at home. ―What do you want?‖ Kendra sat down in one of the chairs facing his desk. ―I need to talk to you.‖ Sloan snorted, pissed off that even as angry as he was with her, he still had an unrelenting need to feel her moving beneath him. ―Unless it's about how wrong you were, I'm busy.‖ ―I'm serious, Sloan.‖ ―So am I. Deadly. Are you here to apologize?‖ Kendra scowled. ―No, I'm not. I'm—‖ ―Then you know the way out. Find it,‖ he said in dismissal and, ignoring her gasp, went back to the brief he'd been reading when she came in. Ten minutes later he looked up to find Kendra still waiting. She sighed impatiently. ―You know I can be as stubborn as you are, and I'll just wait here until you pay attention to me.‖

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―What is it that you want, Kendra? Besides my heart underneath your dainty feet, that is?‖ He saw tears gather in her eyes and felt a brief surge of satisfaction at the sight of them. ―That's unfair,‖ she said and took a couple of breaths, ―but I'll ignore it. I came here to try to convince you to forget about your stupid plan and go home before you get hurt.‖ ―What?‖ ―Connor told me about how you let all of the suspected thieves know that you're aware that the trust has been plundered and how you plan to wait here for the thief, and I think it's crazy. I mean, I know we've broken up, but I still don't want you to get hurt, so I came here to try and talk you into going home before it's too late.‖ Looking down, she waited. ―Kendra.‖ His tone demanded attention, and she looked up at him. ―Hello, darlings! I'm back!‖ The announcement, said with such ―look at me I'm so fabulous‖ panache, immediately drew Sloan's attention from Kendra. He stood up in complete surprise. Dressed from head to toe in blinding shades of pink, Mrs. Patterson stood in his doorway with a Tupperware dish and a squirming, barking toy poodle named Pookie in her arms. As he stood there mutely trying to adjust to the sight of her in all of her sparkling, dazzling glory, Sloan's only thought was: My God, she is alive! Followed by, What the fuck? ―What's the matter, dear? You look as if you've seen a ghost.‖

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Chapter Twenty-nine Sloan sat across the conference table from Mrs. Patterson. In deference to Pookie, he'd moved their unexpected meeting to his firm's largest conference room. The damned dog was still squirming and yapping like mad. ―I'm so sorry about this,‖ Mrs. Patterson told him as she tried to control her dog. ―He's been acting like this all day, and I just can't understand it.‖ As he looked at the dog, who like his owner was dressed in all pink, Sloan thought he understood. He had no doubt that the little dog was protesting his loss of dignity. Maybe being outfitted in a pink bow and pink booties was par for the course for little dogs. But…was that a doggy halter top with matching doggy hot pants? Hell. Forget barking; Pookie had cause to riot. That's right, little Pookie. Rage against the machine, Sloan told the dog silently as Pookie started growling and nipping at his leash, which predictably was pink and covered with pink gems of some sort. Sloan could only hope that they weren't real, but he wouldn't put anything past the compulsively shopping Mrs. Patterson. ―Pookie, stop that,‖ Mrs. Patterson chastised. ―You'll make Sloan think you have no manners.‖ ―It's all right, Mrs. Patterson,‖ Sloan assured her. ―After all, he is a dog. I moved our meeting in here so you could let him loose. There's plenty of room for him to run around, and I've closed all the doors so he can't get out.‖ A brilliant smile lit up Mrs. Patterson's dark brown, wrinkled face. ―You're such a good boy,‖ she commended. Sloan wondered if she was talking to him or the dog. ―I knew Terrence had made the right decision when he chose you to take care of our money.‖ After depositing Pookie on the floor, she leaned closer to Sloan to whisper, ―Don't worry about Pookie making nasty on your nice carpet. He's wearing a diaper.‖ Startled, Sloan flicked his eyes to the dog and then brought them back to look at Mrs. Patterson. ―Oh. Is he sick?‖ ―Sick?‖ Mrs. Patterson tilted her head and looked at him quizzically. ―Oh!‖ she exclaimed and laughed. ―You think he's incontinent! No, my Pookie baby isn't at all incontinent. My dear friend Ava suffers from it, though. Bless her heart, the poor thing is afraid to come outdoors sometimes. No, no, thank God my Pookie doesn't have that affliction. ―I put the diaper on him today so he wouldn't mess up his new outfit. I bought it on the cruise when I remembered that I had the one I'm wearing at home in my closet and that I'd been meaning to buy him something to match. Isn't it adorable? It's Chanel, you know.‖ She sat back and clasped her hands in front of her, looking at him expectantly.

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Conditioned by now from all of his meetings with Mrs. Patterson, Sloan came out of his zone when the chatter stopped. He knew she wanted a response, so he gave her one. ―Uh…which one?‖ She laughed. ―You're so clever. My outfit is Chanel—well, the suit is, the blouse is Dolce and Gabbana, but everything goes so nicely together.‖ Sloan resisted the urge to bang his head on the table. ―Well, you look lovely in it, whoever made it.‖ Mrs. Patterson's pleased giggles musically filled the room. ―Oh, bless you, you sweet boy,‖ she trilled and patted his hand. ―Now enough of this chitchat. I got home early this morning and took a long nap, but I'm afraid my age is catching up with me again, and I'll need to get to bed soon. So before I conk out, let's talk business. What's the latest with the trust?‖ ―Well—‖ ―Before that, though,‖ she said as she slid the Tupperware dish near him and pulled the lid off. ―I know I promised you a 7-Up cake, but I haven't had time to bake it yet. I did bake these brownies, though—baked them fresh this afternoon. Have one.‖ ―Thanks, Mrs. Patterson. Your baked goods are always more than worth the extra time in the gym.‖ After devouring not just one, but two brownies, Sloan began, ―I'm afraid nothing's really new since I talked to you on the phone.‖ While they talked, he wondered if Kendra was still in his office. Kendra looked at her watch. They'd been gone for an hour. It was a good thing her appetite was still pretty much hit or miss these days, because she hadn't had dinner. It was too bad Mrs. Patterson had interrupted them just when they were about to really get into things. ―Okay, so tell me what the hell you were talking about?‖ Startled by Sloan's entrance and aggressive attitude, Kendra flinched. ―I—‖ ―Come on, come on,‖ he said impatiently as he walked behind his desk. ―What is this about a plan you and Connor think I put together?‖ Kendra studied his face and saw confusion—confusion that couldn't possibly have been feigned. Still taken aback by his attitude, she was slow to realize what had happened. ―I— Connor said—He said that you…‖ She stopped, frowned. ―Christ, I'm going to kill him!‖ ―What?‖ ―Never mind,‖ she said as she stood. ―I'm sorry I took up your time. If you'll excuse me, there's a certain meddler I need to see.‖ ―Wait, don't leave yet.‖ Kendra paused, her heart stuttering and her breath catching as she waited to hear what he wanted to say. Does he really want me to stay? Is he going to explain what happened on our wedding day? Not that it matters, but— ―It's dark outside. Give me a few minutes, and I'll walk you to your car when I walk Mrs. Patterson to hers.‖ Kendra tried not to let the crushing disappointment she felt show as she thought about telling him he didn't need to walk her, but knowing he'd only ignore the suggestion, she merely said, ―Where is she?‖

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―She and Pookie needed a quick trip to the bathroom.‖ ―The dog took a bathroom break?‖ ―Apparently so. He has this diaper—It's a long story. Just wait until they come out, and we'll all leave together.‖ ―Fine. Guess I'll just try not to breathe until I'm separated from the dog.‖

*** ―Thank you again for making sure I got safely to my car, Sloan.‖ ―It's no problem, Mrs. Patterson,‖ Sloan told her as the three of them rode the parkinggarage elevator. ―We'll just get my car, and I'll drive you and Kendra to your vehicles. According to Kendra, the two of you parked in the same street lot near her office.‖ They stepped off the elevator, and he pointed out a bench. ―Why don't you wait here, Mrs. Patterson, and Kendra and I will swing around and pick you up.‖ Mrs. Patterson sank down onto the bench. ―That sounds good, dear. Pookie and I have had a long day.‖ ―Thanks, Sloan,‖ Kendra whispered as they started to walk a little deeper into the well-lit belly of the structure. ―My eyes are really starting to itch, and my throat is all scratchy.‖ ―I don't suppose you're carrying any of your allergy medicine.‖ ―No. I didn't expect to be in such close proximity to a dog today. The unfortunately dressed Pookie came as a complete surprise,‖ she said with twitching lips. Sloan couldn't completely stop a grin from stretching his lips. ―Well, you'll be away from him soon.‖ ―Where are you parked?‖ ―It's just over there,‖ he said with a nod in the general vicinity of his car. ―I didn't get my regular spot today because someone else took it, but I'm pretty close.‖ ―What the fuck? Isn't that Sloan over there?‖ Barlow Sims watched Sloan and Kendra strolling away from where he and his lover were crouched behind a car. ―You idiot!‖ he exclaimed in a whisper when a car beeped in response to the remote control that Sloan had pressed on his key ring. Barlow heard the doors on the car unlock. Swearing, he resisted kicking something. The car was two fucking rows over. ―You picked the wrong car!‖ he accused furiously. ―I'm sorry, Barlow. I could have sworn this was his car. It looks exactly like his.‖ ―Oh, never mind that now! Just shoot his ass,‖ Barlow demanded. ―But, but—‖ ―Damn it!‖ Barlow said before he wrapped his hand around his lover's, pointed the gun in the general vicinity of Sloan's head, and shot. Sloan felt a burning pinch and raised his hand to his ear. Kendra asked, ―Did you hear that? Some poor guy's car is backfiring.‖ Feeling wetness, Sloan pulled his hand away and looked at his fingers. He stared in surprise at the blood he saw, wondering how on earth it had gotten there.

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―Okay, Sloan,‖ Kendra began peevishly, ―I know you're angry with me, but I never thought you'd be so childish as to—‖ Still frowning and more than a little surprised, Sloan looked at Kendra. ―Wh-what did you say?‖ Kendra said, ―You don't have to ignore—‖ ―No, I mean about the car back—‖ Surprise turned to shock as he realized what had happened. ―I think I've been shot, Ken.‖ ―You didn't use a silencer?‖ The sound of the bullet leaving the gun had been thunderous, making Barlow jump in shock. Now he stood with hotly accusing eyes. ―I told your stupid ass to get a silencer!‖ ―I-I forgot! Stop yelling at me!‖ ―And then you had the nerve to miss the shot. Oh, fuck me!‖ Barlow said, knowing that while that first shot might attract attention, another one definitely would. ―Give me the damn gun! I'll do it myself.‖ He snatched the gun. His partner objected, sounding highly insulted. ―But you covered my hand! So I don't think you should blame me for missing.‖ Barlow ignored the comment and prepared to take another shot. He took a shooter's stance, sighted his target, and— ―Plus, you know you have chunky fingers, and that made it extra difficult for both of our fingers to fit. Really, Barlow, if you think about it, it is your fault.‖ His shot interrupted, Barlow turned stunned eyes to the pouting face. ―Will you shut the fuck up? I'm trying to kill someone here!‖ ―But—‖ Barlow made a slashing movement with his gun hand. ―Shut. Up.‖ Completely rushed now, he turned back and let off two shots. ―What! Shot?‖ Kendra followed the direction of Sloan's gaze to his hands and saw the blood. ―Oh my God! What happened!‖ Her panicked gaze went to his pale face, and she screamed. ―Your head is bleeding!‖ Sloan's hand went back to his ear. The blood was still gushing. ―No, it's not my head. It's my ear; the bullet nicked it—‖ He was cut off by two more shots, heard in quick succession. ―Run, Ken! Someone's shooting at us.‖ Grabbing her arm, he took off running, dragging her behind him. Kendra tried to keep up, flinching when another bullet sounded. ―We're not going to make it to the car. Get down,‖ he commanded and pulled her down between two cars. Panting, they sat and looked at each other in shock. ―What the fuck is going on?‖ Sloan wondered aloud. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, hoping for service that he knew wouldn't be available. ―I don't have service either,‖ Kendra told him as she showed him her phone. Trying not to panic, she focused on Sloan. She reached into her purse and pulled out a small first-aid kit. ―What? You walk around expecting to fall down and skin your knee or something?‖

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Kendra stopped searching for the kit's scissors long enough to look at him. ―Oh, baby, you sound weak,‖ she said with soft concern. ―Don't worry, I'll take care of it.‖ ―It barely got me, but I think it got the fleshy part. I read somewhere that ears bleed a lot, even from small cuts.‖ Kendra looked at the blood seeping through his fingers and prayed he was right. Crouching so that she came up on his side, she pulled his hand away to study the wound. ―This may burn a little,‖ she said through clenched teeth before she ruthlessly doused the wound with an alcohol pad. ―Ow! Hey!‖ Sloan complained and flinched when she roughly started dabbing the wound with a cotton ball. ―What's wrong with you?‖ ―You pretended that you didn't know about the plan Connor told me about,‖ she said in a controlled voice rife with fury as she carefully cut the tape for the small squares of gauze. ―You lied to me. You did deliberately put yourself in danger. Be still!‖ Sloan hunched his shoulder in defense. ―I would appreciate it if you were a little damned more gentle in your fucking tender ministrations!‖ ―Shut up, Sloan,‖ Kendra muttered as she taped several squares of gauze to his ear and anchored it to his face. ―It was a stupid plan!‖ Sloan grabbed her hand as she sat down again and started putting things back into her purse. He squeezed her fingers until she looked up at him. ―I didn't have a plan. I don't know who that is shooting at us. Jesus, Mrs. Patterson!‖ ―Oh right! She's on the bench. Maybe she'll call the police.‖ ―If she does, I hope she has sense enough to go back into the building beforehand.‖ ―You might as well come out now, Sloan! We're not going to let you out of here. Tell you what. You come out, and we'll let that pretty little piece with you go.‖ Kendra looked at Sloan with wide eyes. ―Who is that?‖ she whispered. Sloan hushed her. ―Who are you? I've heard your voice before. How do I know you're telling the truth? How do I know you won't just kill her as soon as you've killed me?‖ ―Well…you don't. I will tell you this much, though. We couldn't care less about the woman. We just want you. You have until I count to three to come out. Otherwise we kill her too. ―One.‖ ―Don't you even think about moving from this spot,‖ Kendra told Sloan as she gripped his arm. ―Two.‖ Sloan tried to brush her hand away. ―I'm—‖ ―Barlow! Is that you?‖ Kendra frowned. ―Was that Mrs. Patterson?‖ ―Yes, and she's talking to her nephew, the man who's trying to kill me. I knew I recognized that voice,‖ he said grimly. ―Stay here.‖ ―No, don't go!‖

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Sloan leaned in and pressed a hard kiss to her mouth. ―Stay. Here,‖ he repeated and stood. He saw Mrs. Patterson walking toward her nephew's voice. He looked in that direction and saw Barlow. ―Are you going to shoot your aunt too, Barlow?‖ he called, taking the other man's attention off the old woman. Barlow looked dumbfounded. ―How many bullets have you got left?‖ Sloan taunted as he walked around the car. ―Enough for all of us?‖ ―Barlow, what are you doing?‖ Mrs. Patterson was obviously confused as she continued to make her way toward her nephew with Pookie in her arms. For once the dog was mercifully quiet. Barlow was apparently still in shock at seeing his aunt. ―Auntie? What are you doing here?‖ ―That was my question for you, Barlow.‖ She stood in front of her nephew. ―Barlow! Why were you trying to shoot Sloan? What could he have possibly done to make you do such a thing?‖ Sloan, who was right behind Mrs. Patterson, turned back around when he heard high heels clicking behind him. He was not surprised to see Kendra running to catch up but decided to deal with her later, and turned to respond to Mrs. Patterson's question. ―I can answer that, Mrs. Patterson. He's been stealing from the trust, and he figured out that I found out.‖ Barlow appeared to be experiencing some sort of shock-induced calm. Sloan never paused in his effort to get to his goal. He simply took the gun from Barlow and kept walking. ―And he's had help,‖ he continued as he stopped dead center in front of his target, ―from my trusted friend and colleague here.‖ He smiled in grim satisfaction as his fist shot out, crunching nose cartilage, spewing blood, and knocking Patrick Thomas flat on his California beach-bum ass.

*** ―I'm so sorry for this, Sloan.‖ Sloan stood next to Mrs. Patterson as they watched the police load Barlow into a squad car. Patrick would be transported after they finished treating his broken nose in the back of the ambulance. As a fresh batch of tears began to roll down Mrs. Patterson's face, Sloan pulled her in for a hug. ―It's not your fault, Mrs. Patterson.‖ ―But I feel responsible,‖ she said, stepping away. ―Terrence always told me that I gave Barlow too much. He said I spoiled the boy, and I knew he was right, but I kept doing it. I just love him so much.‖ Wiping more tears from her eyes, she screeched softly in frustration. ―How on earth did he get involved in all of this?‖ ―My best guess would be that he and Patrick met each other at the firm during one of the few times Barlow visited with you. They were attracted to one another and started a relationship.‖ Sloan still couldn't believe it. The way Patrick had chased after women… ―And the two of them plotted to steal from the trust?‖ Mrs. Patterson asked. ―Afraid so.‖ ―It is my fault. Barlow felt he was entitled to the money. He's always thought it unfair that he would get nothing when I died. Truthfully I always thought it unfair too, and I guess Barlow probably could tell that.‖ Sobbing, she buried her face in Pookie's fur. ―What's going to happen to him?‖

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Sloan grimaced, unwilling to add to her worries. ―You should worry about that later, Mrs. Patterson. For now, why don't you go be with him at the police station? Do you need a lift?‖ ―No, no, I'm fine,‖ she said between sniffles. ―I guess I will go to the station. What are you going to do?‖ ―I'm headed there myself.‖ ―I'll go with you.‖ Kendra spoke up from behind him. Sloan put Mrs. Patterson into the care of an officer and then turned back to Kendra. She looked frail and exhausted. ―You've already given your statement to the police. They'll call you if they need you. You should go home.‖ Startled, Kendra grabbed his arm. ―But so did you, and I want to go with—‖ ―I don't want you to. Go home, Kendra. I'll be fine.‖

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Chapter Thirty Kendra awoke the next morning achy and tired and with swollen, dry eyes. She'd cried herself to sleep after she'd left Sloan. She'd been devastated when he'd refused to let her stay. ―He didn't even want me around anymore,‖ she whispered. ―I've blown it.‖ The mere thought filled her eyes again with tears. Her stubbornness and hard-heartedness had done irreversible damage, and he'd never forgive her. She knew it was horrible and a bit movie-of-the-weekish, but it had taken last night's episode to bring her to her senses regarding Sloan's absence on their wedding day. As they had sat hiding from the madman who'd wanted to kill Sloan, all she'd been able to think about was how much she didn't want to lose him. The reality of the situation had forced her to examine herself, and she'd finally been able to see through all of her hurt and anger long enough to see Sloan. ―But it seems he doesn't want me anymore,‖ she whispered forlornly as she recalled how cold he'd been to her from the moment they'd seen each other the day before. She knew she'd hurt him with her intractability, and now she had to face the fact that maybe he was just tired of putting up with her. But love doesn't just die, does it? Of course not. ―So what am I doing?‖ Kendra sat straight up in bed. ―Why am I still sitting here? Because you're a freaking idiot,‖ she muttered to herself as she got out of bed and hurried to the shower.

*** Two hours later she patted her curls, ran her hand down her front to smooth nonexistent wrinkles in her belted trench coat, and took a deep breath before ringing the doorbell to her old apartment. ―Umm, hi,‖ she said when he answered. ―May I come in?‖ Sloan studied her coldly. He stepped back to let her enter. ―I'm in no mood for bullshit today, Kendra. I had a long night, and I'm tired.‖ ―I know.‖ Kendra nervously walked past him and turned as he was shutting the door. He wore just tousled hair, a pair of unbuttoned jeans, and a discouraging scowl. She licked her lips. ―I'm here because I, uhhh… I need to…‖ She stopped and took a deep breath, wishing he would say something—anything. Eyes narrow and suspicious, Sloan didn't move. God, he just looks so unforgiving! Kendra wiped nervous hands down the sides of her coat. ―I'm sorry for being so intolerant, Sloan, and for not trusting you. I was just so scared, and I didn't…I didn't…‖ His hard stare unnerved her. He'd never directed that look to her before. She looked away from him, hoping to gather her thoughts.

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Kendra took a deep breath and looked at him. ―I'm sorry for everything, Sloan. It doesn't matter why you were late on our wedding day, because I know you love me and you would have been on time if you'd been able to.‖ Sloan's brow lifted. ―Really? What brought on this sudden change of heart?‖ ―I'm sorry,‖ Kendra said again, and her voice broke. Turning away from him, she covered her face with her hands and sobbed. Her heart was breaking. It was too late. She'd blown it with him. ―I'm so sorry, Sloan. I wish I hadn't been so stupid,‖ she said and suddenly turned to face him again. ―But I was, and you'll never know how much I regret that. I wish you would take me back, but I don't blame you if you won't. I shouldn't have come.‖ Blinded by tears, she tried to walk around him to get to the door. Sloan pulled her into his arms. ―It's all right, Kennie-girl,‖ he said into her curls. ―It's all right.‖ ―No, it isn't,‖ she wailed as she wrapped her arms around his neck. ―I was so awful to you. I should have known that you had a good reason for being late—I was just too scared to let you tell me. I love you, Sloan. I do!‖ ―I know you do, Ken. Don't cry,‖ he begged as he boosted her up so that her legs wrapped around his waist. ―I hate to see you cry.‖ ―I can't help it. I'm such a bitch, but I promise to change. I promise to open up more and share my emotions and stop comparing you to my father.‖ Sloan lifted her chin. ―You're not a bitch—‖ he began and laughed at the disgruntled, skeptical look she gave him. ―You're not,‖ he insisted, ―but I forgive you for being so stubborn and blind that you almost ruined our lives. Okay?‖ ―Oh God, how can you? I was just horrible.‖ She was relieved—and amazed—that he'd forgiven her so easily. ―None of that's important right now. All I need to know is that you're committed to making a change and that you love me,‖ he said and bent his head to sip at her tears. ―I am! I do! I really, really do love you,‖ she said and sobbed more. As she continued to cry, Sloan backed her against the wall. He slid his hands up and under the coat and found nothing to glide over but skin. ―God, Kennie-girl, you're just full of surprises this morning. Thank God,‖ he commented as he unzipped his pants. He paused. ―Can you take me, baby?‖ Kendra felt the head of his cock pressing against her cleft, and just the memory of how full his erection made her feel when he was inside her made her instantly wet. Still sobbing, she nodded. When he pushed deep inside her, her sobs quickly turned to little high-pitched squeals of delight. Sloan closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to hers. ―I love you, sweetheart,‖ he said. ―And I won't ever leave you. Remember that. Trust in that.‖ Kendra savored the feel of him, and she contracted strongly and wetly around him. ―I love you too, and I know you won't leave me. I do trust you.‖ He pushed all the way in to the hilt and stopped moving. ―Don't move,‖ he told her. ―Just let me feel you again. God, I missed this.‖ ―Me too,‖ she puffed out. Unable to help herself, she let her internal muscles move around him several times, squeezing him hard.

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He got a more secure hold and looked at her through eyes at half-mast. ―You're supposed to hold still.‖ ―I can't help it,‖ she purred. ―It feels so good, Sloan.‖ Sloan grunted and slowly, torturously pulled out. She loved the feel of her slick heat grasping at his dick as if it didn't want to let him go. He paused with only the tip inserted. She went mad, desperately grinding her hips to force him all the way back in, but he held her steady. She looked at him and said softly and clearly, ―Please, Sloan. Give me your entire dick. Give me every single inch of it. I want you to stick your thick, long cock so far up in my pussy that not one inch is left over. I want it all, Sloan. I want it hard, I want it fast, and I want it now. Please.‖ She pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. ―Give it to me.‖ It was Sloan who went mad now, thrusting into her so fast and so hard that she reared back and up against the wall. Her legs fell bonelessly to his sides, and her hands clenched and unclenched on his shoulders. She had come undone. ―Is it too rough?‖ he asked her as he continued to plunge furiously inside her. Biting her lip, Kendra frantically shook her head no. She raised her arms to tighten them around his neck as she rode out the maelstrom, feeling as if her entire body were coming apart. ―Yes, Sloan, oh yes. Baby, please don't stop,‖ she screamed. Then she felt herself shattering into millions of fragments. Sloan pushed into her, the force of his thrusts pinning her hard to the wall as he joined her.

*** ―I can't believe it!‖ Kendra said in dismay later as they lay in their bed. He'd just finished telling her about the fiasco on their wedding day. ―Were you hurt really badly?‖ A worried frown on her face, she put her hand to the back of his head to check for herself. Sloan pulled her hand back around, then kissed the fingers one by one. ―The lump is gone, Ken. It's been gone for a while.‖ ―God, I'm so sorry, honey. I should have been there for you. I should have listened to you.‖ ―Yes, you should have, but it's all right. I prefer things this way anyway. You came to me without needing the explanation, and that says a lot.‖ ―Will you tell me why you had second thoughts about marrying me? That is what you meant when you left me the message saying you were questioning, isn't it?‖ ―Yes. When I woke up that morning, all I could think about was you and how you'd wanted to postpone the wedding, or how you'd asked me if I was sure I wanted to marry you. All of that hit me that morning, and in the most basic terms, I had to ask myself if I wanted to take the risk of marrying you with the possibility that you'd never be really happy or trusting.‖ Kendra cleared her throat. ―And I take it the answer was yes,‖ she said meekly. ―Yes.‖ Kendra wrapped her arms around his neck. ―Oh God, Sloan, I really am so sorry. Now what else can I do to make up for being so stubborn and wrong?‖ ―There's nothing, Kendra.‖ ―Nothing at all?‖

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―Nope,‖ he assured her and playfully kissed her nose before adjusting the two of them so that he was on his back and she was lying on his chest. ―Last night had a lot to do with your coming here today, didn't it?‖ ―Yeah, it did. I thought I was going to lose you for good.‖ ―Thank God that didn't happen,‖ Sloan said fervently. ―Thank God for fat fingers and bad aims.‖ ―Yeah, thank God. So what happens with Barlow and Patrick now?‖ ―They're going to jail, of course. They'll probably be charged with two counts of attempted murder, theft, and a whole host of other things.‖ ―Were you as surprised about Patrick as I was?‖ ―Absolutely. I guess he and Barlow have been in a relationship almost as long as Patrick's been with the firm. Patrick was in way over his head. And Barlow… Despite the fact that he has no expenses, lives rent free, and gets a generous allowance from his aunt every month, he wasn't satisfied. He'd been trying to get his hands on more of her money for years. In his mind, I guess Patrick was just the ticket.‖ ―God, what a patsy,‖ Kendra opined as she settled more comfortably. ―We'll both have to testify, I guess.‖ ―Yes, if it comes to that.‖ ―I was so scared,‖ she said in a muffled voice as she tightened her arms around him. Sloan rubbed soothingly at the goose bumps that had popped up on her arm, and kissed the top of her head in commiseration. ―Me too.‖ ―How was Mrs. Patterson when you last saw her?‖ ―By the time I got to the station, she'd stopped crying and pounced on me to recommend a criminal defense attorney for Barlow.‖ Kendra raised her head to look at him. ―You're kidding, right? Well, she has some nerve! I hope you told her no. I mean, her nephew tried to kill you!‖ Grinning, Sloan pushed her head back down. ―Calm down. Mrs. Patterson, as usual, was oblivious. She didn't understand that there might be a conflict of interest. All she knew was that the person she loves most in the world was in trouble, and she wanted to get him the best help she could. I can understand that, but I did tell her that under the circumstances, I couldn't help her. She's decided that living on a cruise ship will have to wait because her baby Barlow needs her.‖ ―Blech,‖ Kendra said definitively. ―You know, when we were being shot at wasn't the only time I felt like I could lose you for good.‖ ―What do you mean?‖ She shrugged a naked shoulder. ―You were so cold to me yesterday. It was like you couldn't stand the sight of me anymore. I almost talked myself into believing that you didn't love me anymore.‖ Sloan frowned. ―It wasn't that. I was just so angry at you for being so stubborn, and when you showed up yesterday—still unenlightened—I got fed up. There you were, looking beautiful and still holding my heart in your teeth, and I couldn't have you. I was sick of it.‖

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Sloan was silent while Kendra plucked at the hair on his chest. He could tell she was nervous about something. ―Sloan?‖ ―Hmm?‖ ―I love you. Will you marry me?‖ ―What?‖ Sloan reared up to look at her, dislodging her in the process. ―I still want us to get married, and this time I want to be the one to ask.‖ ―Why, Kendra, this is so sudden!‖ He laughed. Kendra blinked back tears. ―It's not funny, Sloan,‖ she said quietly. ―Oh, baby. Of course I'll marry you.‖ He whispered the promise as he licked tears from her cheeks. He turned so that she was lying on her back. Then he kneed her legs open and lay between her thighs. He watched her neck arch and heard her breath catch in the back of her throat as he slid deeply into her. ―Nobody and nothing will stop me,‖ he assured her.

*** Kendra held the telephone receiver and listened to the ringing on the other end of the line. She counted only seven rings, but it seemed to take forever before her mother picked up. ―Hi, Mom.‖ ―Good morning.‖ ―Sloan and I are getting married.‖ ―That's good,‖ Camille answered, and Kendra heard the sincerity in her voice. ―Congratulations.‖ ―Thank you, Mom. I'm really happy.‖ ―Yes, I can tell. And just how is Sloan this morning? Please tell him hello from me.‖ ―Mom says hello, Sloan,‖ Kendra told him with her hand covering the mouthpiece. She smiled when he looked surprised, and cocked her head in inquiry when he didn't say anything. Sloan grunted. Kendra understood. He had every reason to take a wait-and-see approach with Camille. ―Sloan says good morning,‖ Kendra lied. ―But anyway, we're getting married next May.‖ Sloan went back to reading his paper. ―Was she happy for us?‖ he asked after she'd hung up. ―You might not believe this,‖ Kendra told him as she sat in his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck, ―but she truly is. I even think she might be as excited as I am for the wedding.‖ ―Seems to me that that would be impossible, as you're clearly about to burst.‖ ―I know,‖ she admitted. ―It's truly outrageous the way I'm feeling. I'm more excited for this wedding than I was for the first.‖ ―Why?‖ ―Because we've come through the storm, and we've survived,‖ she said seriously as she bent to kiss him. ―I love you.‖ ―I love you.‖

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Epilogue The maître d' stood imperiously outside the ornate closed doors leading to the biggest private room the upscale Gold Coast restaurant had to offer. It took months on a waiting list to even be seated in the restaurant. But today anyone who showed the man with the arrogant smirk on his face a specially engraved invitation with the words Shhh! Surprise Ceremony for Kendra Masters. Don't Say a Word, embossed on it was allowed admittance into the coveted inner sanctum of one of the most popular restaurants in the country. Kendra held Sloan's arm as he led her to the door. She lifted a brow when she saw the austere steward standing there blocking the doors as if he were guarding the crown jewels from invading hordes. ―Woo-hoo, this shindig really is a big deal, huh? Now I see why you wanted me to wear this dress tonight.‖ He'd insisted she put on the long white gown before he would let her leave the bedroom that evening. ―It was worth all those hours in the spa and the hairdresser's for a party this important. Tell me. Did I get those 'sexy, bouncy, lust-inspiring curls' that you wanted?‖ ―Pure poetry, wasn't it?‖ ―Yes, you're a regular John Keats.‖ Sloan laughed and nodded at the steward. ―Good evening. Kendra Masters and Sloan Johnson.‖ As the maître d' pushed the doors open, Sloan whispered into her ear, ―I'm not all that familiar with Mr. Keats's work, but he's all right with me if he's the one who wrote 'There once was an old man from Buck. Boy, did he like to…‖ So when the assembled guests looked up, what they saw was a radiant Kendra, dressed in white silk and diamonds and…laughing hysterically and burying her embarrassed face in the shoulder of Sloan's traditional tuxedo as he escorted her into the room. Kendra made herself calm down as she looked curiously around the room. When she spotted Mozell with a strained smile on her face and sitting stiffly next to a stern-faced Connor, she whispered to Sloan, ―I thought you said this was a dinner party for one of your clients. What are Mozell and…?‖ She trailed off when she caught sight of Camille, Amy and her children, Kyle, and Mr. and Mrs. Johnson sitting together in a cluster. They waved at her. Confused, she slowly waved back. She spotted other familiar faces. ―Oh my gosh! Is that Tory?‖ she asked as her friend smiled beatifically at her and waved. ―Sloan, what's going on?‖ ―Come on, Ken. We're needed in the front of the room.‖ Sloan grabbed her hand, but Kendra trailed him, too busy looking over her shoulder at all the people she recognized. Kendra stopped, though, when Sloan did, and looked at the man who began to rise. ―Father Quigley?‖ she said in surprise.

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―Hello, Kendra.‖ Kendra looked at Sloan, who had snagged her chin and gently forced her head around so he could look into her eyes. ―Listen, sweetheart,‖ he said. ―This is your wedding day.‖ ―Wedding day?‖ Kendra said in confused surprise. ―But we're not getting married until May, Sloan. Remember?‖ Sloan bent down and kissed her. ―You're so adorable when you're befuddled.‖ This drew a laugh from the guests. ―Yes, we are getting married in May, but we're also getting married today.‖ Kendra's eyes filled with tears as she realized what he had done. ―But I'm not worried, Sloan. I trust you and I know—‖ He pressed two fingers against her lips. ―Hush now, Ken. Today is your wedding day. Enjoy it.‖ Kendra pressed a kiss to his fingers and smiled. She turned back to Father Quigley, who took that as a sign that he could begin. ―Dearly beloved…‖

*** Kendra sat next to Sloan. She was sure that she was glowing like a neon sign, but she didn't care. She looked around her at all her family and friends and smiled more. Everyone had eaten, and now it was time for dancing. Sloan had actually pulled off a surprise wedding. I always said the man had skills. She turned and kissed his cheek. ―What was that for?‖ he asked. ―Just because. This is wonderful, Sloan,‖ she whispered. ―And so thoughtful and…and, well I'm just overwhelmed.‖ Sloan pressed a brief kiss to her mouth. ―Good.‖ ―I love it, Sloan, but you do know I trust you and I could have waited until next May for our wedding, don't you?‖ ―Yes, but I figured why wait? I wanted you to be my wife.‖ Kendra only smiled. She knew he had done this for her, and she loved him for it. ―All right, if you say so. But I want you to know that a May wedding is completely unnecessary now.‖ ―That works for me too. Let's dance. We have to start it off, right?‖ Kendra took his hand and rose from her seat. ―I think I vaguely remember being told that the last time we tried to plan one of these.‖ Sloan squeezed her hand as they walked to the center of the floor. ―Stop being such a bad girl.‖ ―What'll you do to me if I don't?‖ she asked seductively as he pulled her into his arms. Sloan threw his head back and laughed. ―Oh, wouldn't you like to know?‖ He signaled the deejay to begin.

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The strains of Stevie Wonder's ―I Was Made to Love Her‖ filled the room. Kendra tightened her arms around his neck, knowing that the song held special meaning for him. ―I love you, Sloan.‖ Sloan held her tight, humming along with the song. For the second time in the song, Stevie sang, ―My baby loves me, my baby needs me, and you know I ain't goin' nowhere.‖ Looking into her eyes, Sloan whispered the words to Kendra right along with the song. And she whispered the words right back. She framed his face in her hands. ―I know you're not, Sloan, I know,‖ she said and met him halfway when he bent his head to kiss her. When Stevie's ―Signed, Sealed, Delivered I'm Yours‖ began to pulse into the room, Kendra shook her head at his choice of this particular song. He laughed and pulled her back into his arms.

Loose Id Titles by Lisa G. Riley Do Me Right Given With Roslyn Hardy Holcomb

Lisa G. Riley Author Lisa G. Riley's work has been called ―character and issue driven,‖ ―exciting,‖ ―passionate,‖ and ―thought provoking.‖ The author of four novels and four novellas, Ms. Riley specializes in writing romantic suspense with erotic elements. She has also written paranormal pieces. She resides in Chicago where she is hard at work on her next project.