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“The kidnappers had help getting on and off the island,” Kelly said. “Someone who knew Jason would be out of the house.”
Kelly had to be wrong. He refused to believe that someone he trusted—he employed—could have stabbed him in the back.
Damn her. He’d asked her to stay to help Jason, but her presence was causing nothing but more turmoil in his life.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
KELLY SWUNG FOR the ball, trying to smack it with what Trey called the sweet spot of her racket. She connected, and the ball sailed back over the net. She even managed to keep it inside the lines this time.
Trey hit the ball back to her, but she judged the trajectory wrong and her return slammed into the net.
“Better,” Trey called.
Sitting on the sidelines, Jason clapped madly. “Good job, Mommy.”
Kelly grabbed the fabric of her new white tennis skirt and curtsied to the little dude. A burly bodyguard, wearing sunglasses that hid most of his face, hovered close to him. How did Jason feel about that new and disturbing facet of his life?
They’d been rallying for almost an hour, and she was enjoying this new game, one that forced her to chase down the ball and break a sweat.
How strange that a girl from the wrong side of the tracks would like a country club game.
“Heads up,” Trey shouted, and lobbed another ball her way, this time forcing her to use her backhand, which for some odd reason was satisfying.
Tossing a ball in the air, Trey grinned.
“You’re a competitive thing, aren’t you?” he yelled at her.
“Who, me? No way.”
Trey looked like some kind of tennis god on the other side of the net, all gorgeous in his white shorts, muscled legs and arms on full view. Patrice had sent her an email with an attached cover of Celebrity magazine featuring his smoothly handsome face. Apparently Trey had been their Hottest Man of the Year a few years ago.
Looking at him right now, yeah, she got that.
His mood had definitely improved since they’d started playing. Man, but he’d been offended by her suspicions. Did the guy want her to keep her ideas to herself? No way. Someone close to him had aided the kidnappers, someone he might deal with every day.
She knew what betrayal felt like. And now so did Trey.
Welcome to real life, Mr. Billionaire.
She slammed a ball back, and realized she wasn’t being fair. Maybe she’d misjudged Trey Wentworth.
For one thing, he’d turned out to be a patient coach. He knew intuitively how to help her learn, and never lost his temper or made her feel like an idiot when she screwed up. He encouraged her, complimenting her small successes and improvements. As a result, their rallies were definitely getting longer.
Too bad her boss, Sergeant McFadden, wasn’t more like Trey.
“Argggh,” she wailed when a ball went long. She was losing her focus.
“That’s enough for today,” Trey said.
“Okay,” Kelly agreed, breathing hard. Tennis was more work than she thought, but had energized her.
Trey grabbed two towels from the sidelines and handed her one when she met him at the net. “You did great today.”
Taking the towel, she said, “Thanks.”
“We’ll have your second lesson tomorrow morning.”
She wiped sweat from her face. She wanted to learn more—people paid a fortune for private coaching like this—but didn’t Trey have anything else to do with his time but teach her how to play tennis? She knew he was beyond wealthy, but surely he had some work to do. Wentworth Industries couldn’t run itself.
She shot a glance to Jason. Besides, there was no guarantee she’d still be here tomorrow.
“Tennis is a great game,” she said. “Aerobic, but you also have to use your brain. Too bad it’s not more accessible to kids that don’t belong to a country club.”
“But it is,” Trey said.
Kelly shrugged. You just think it is.
Jason leaped to his feet. “Is it time to go swimming?”
“Sure, buddy,” Trey said. “Find Maria and put on your bathing suit.”
“He’s like a fish,” Kelly said, watching Jason scamper ahead, the bodyguard hurrying to keep up with him.
Trey draped the towel around his neck. “He’s always loved the water.”
