Page 59 of Vengeful in Love
I’m not letting my BFF take a taxi. Stay put for a pickup. Or else!
A frown creased Kerri’s forehead as she scanned the area. She couldn’t spot Natalie’s familiar Asian face with its quick smile and warm dark eyes.
Maybe Natalie had needed to leave. The flight was more than an hour late. A newly-wedded woman probably had better things to do—like seducing her husband—than waiting for a friend’s super-late plane to land.
Kerri looked around some more and noticed a sign with her name scrawled on it in block letters. She raised her eyes to the man holding it and blinked. He had his head angled away, but a vague sense of familiarity tugged at her as heat curled in her belly. The way his charcoal-gray Savile Row suit hung on his frame said not only did he work out, but the body underneath didn’t have an ounce of excess fat. Her lips parted slightly as she tried to draw in more air to clear her suddenly foggy head.
Where had she seen him before?
His ensemble—the suit, discreet watch, platinum ring on his right middle finger and gleaming shoes—probably cost more than what most limo drivers made in a year.
No way he’s my chauffeur.
Was this Natalie’s idea of a joke…or help?
Kerri had everything except…well, a job, a home and a man. The first two were recent phenomena that hadn’t made the gossip circuit yet—so she still had time to rectify them before word got around—but the last one was common knowledge among her friends and acquaintances. She wouldn’t put it past Natalie to fix it. Fix her.
After all, Natalie was a woman in love. Who believed in the power of love.
Well, she’d have to do better if she wanted to recruit Kerri into the cult. She believed in many things, but love wasn’t one of them. Actually, that wasn’t technically true. She did believe in love. Just didn’t think it was for her.
Dragging her lone suitcase, she approached the supposed chauffeur. Whatever he’d done to deserve this, it was time to end his misery. She wanted to check in and unpack her stuff for the week she was planning to stay in Virginia. Then she could figure out her next step.
“Hi.” Despite her five-foot-nine height plus stiletto sandals, she had to tilt her chin upward to address him directly. “I’m Kerri Wilson.”
He held up a long, strong finger without turning to face her. It had a small white scar running diagonally down the fleshy pad. “Gotta go. We’ll finish this later,” he said.
The voice was low and matter-of-fact. But it intensified the sense of familiarity she’d felt earlier and made her toes curl. Good lord. He could’ve said, “I like eggs,” and her toes would still have scrunched up like shrimp tails.
For god’s sake, Kerri, get a grip!
In the last seven years, she’d never sighed over a man, lusted after one or wanted one with any degree of intensity. They’d been a nice addition to her life when she could spare the time and energy necessary to manage a romantic relationship i
n addition to the dozens of responsibilities on her plate. The result? Exactly three boyfriends since college.
Of course, she no longer had the job that had kept her so busy. Serendipity?
He turned around and the world seemed to go into slow motion. She noticed a small black earpiece, eyelashes whose length made her slightly jealous…and then a face that could cause a riot in a nunnery. All the air rushed out of her lungs as she stared at the blue eyes that belonged to Ethan, the only man who’d made her succumb to a white-hot passion one foolish night. The only man who’d succeeded in tempting her to be irresponsible.
And what a night she’d had in his arms.
The eyes narrowed as he studied her. The full intensity of his gaze prickled her skin. She had the oddest feeling that he was trying to see through her dove gray baby tee and short denim skirt. It wasn’t anything as clichéd as trying to strip her with his eyes. That she could handle. He was trying to see beneath her skin.
Sweat slickened her palms. She felt terribly exposed, especially without her power suit, but she couldn’t seem to erect a barrier fast enough to keep herself insulated.
Men never looked at her like this, like they wanted to see her soul.
Why would he want to do that? It had just been one night. And he’d known the terms of the deal.
She had to be imagining things. Most likely she was just tired from the trans-Pacific flight. He probably didn’t even remember her. Men like Ethan had harems full of willing women at their disposal.
“Jacqueline?” he whispered.
So much for him not remembering their night toge—
“No, wait.” He glanced down at the sign he was holding. “You said Kerri Wilson.”
She nodded, unable to speak. He’d become even more arresting since their one-night stand seven years ago. His voice had deepened, age and experience adding a dark timber to his tone; his body was wider, thicker through the shoulders, more powerful. Her body, meanwhile, was busy recalling every deliciously wicked thing he’d done. The flesh between her legs tightened, reminding her how long it’d been since she’d had any.
