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While her ex had done a number on her, he hadn’t managed to break her spirit. She was eager to get back at her father for treating her like nothing more than an object of a man’s desire to be used and flaunted.
I had full intentions of helping her achieve every single goal.
We’d walked down to the water’s edge, enjoying the sight of the boats docked in the harbor. I could tell by the serene look on her face that she was more at peace than she’d been before. Yet since we’d started walking fifteen minutes before, she’d remained almost entirely silent, more reserved than I was used to.
The wharf off to the side wasn’t nearly as commercialized as the one at Fisherman’s Wharf. Neither was the restaurant, which was one of the reasons I’d selected the location.
Still, I sensed Suzannah was chilly given the drop in temperature and the way the breeze had picked up through the evening. I yanked off my jacket, easing it around her shoulders and she stopped short, taking a quick, scattered breath. I was certain she’d toss it back into my arms, but instead she tugged it forward.
“So I need to add chivalrous to your list of attributes.” I was so used to her accusatory tone that I had to smile.
“My goodness. An actual compliment. Before you know it, you’ll enjoy my company.” We continued walking, headed to the wharf that housed a couple of bars and a frozen treat store. Music floated into the air around us, adding to the peaceful atmosphere and the beautiful setting.
“The truth is, Kendrick, that I do. That might surprise you. And why? Because you revel in riling people on purpose, trying your best to ensure that no one will ever get close to you. The reason our connection is so electric is that I can see right through your charade as you could with me, both revealing the raw side of our personalities.”
She had a way of stopping my thoughts, her words so fitting that I couldn’t deny them. No one had ever done that before. “Be careful digging too deep, my sweet. You might not like what you find.”
“That’s what bothers me the most. I want to know the real you.”
Her comment was almost profound. The fact she’d suddenly turned introspective meant she was debating whether our deal was acceptable. Or perhaps she was looking forward to the possibilities.
I’d learned several things about her during our two bottles of wine over dinner, including her favorite colors and foods, movies, and music. Slowly, she’d become more comfortable even though I’d constantly scanned the restaurant.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I had a feeling that we were being watched. Maybe it was a product of the industry I was in or the training I’d received, but I refused to rule anything out. The feeling had slowly faded, which had allowed me to open up to her more than I had to anyone before. We hadn’t asked about aspects of our family wealth, business practices, or the level of power and influence our fathers had gleaned. We’d simply enjoyed getting to know each other.
The more difficult questions would come later.
“By the way. Don’t take my compliment lightly. I rarely give them,” she said then laughed, scrunching up her nose when she glanced at my sour expression. “I was kidding. Aren’t you ever silly?” Her tone of voice was more playful, which was more disarming than she knew.
“Silly? Hmmm…”
“Are you asking for additional compliments?”
“It’s not only women who like them.”
“Hmmm… I suppose you’re right. Let’s see. You’re handsome but you know it and you use that to your benefit. You’re an excellent dresser, not too stuffy yet sophisticated all the same. You command a room when you walk inside, likely because people are terrified of you. And you can have puppy dog eyes when you want something really badly.”
When I said nothing, she burst into laughter, turning around and taking backwards steps.
I stopped walking altogether. “Interesting how every compliment had a jagged side. Passive-aggressive.”
“Aren’t you the sensitive type.” She continued backing up, finally shaking her head. Then she removed her high heels, placing them in one hand before spinning around again and racing toward the pier.
Watching her actions was the first breath of fresh air I’d gotten in as long as I could remember. When she bounded onto the pier, she spun around and I could swear she was testing me. Teasing me.
Beckoning me with her crooked finger.
Then she darted into the crowd.
I took off jogging, bounding onto the deck. Then I realized I couldn’t see her. What if something had happened to her? Fuck me. And I’d left my goddamn weapon in my jacket. What was wrong with me? I started pushing my way through the people, searching the area. Where the hell could she have gone?
I stopped again, raking my hand through my hair, my chest aching from the heavy breathing. The last thing I wanted to do was to draw attention to the fact I was searching for her in case we were being watched. However, in the next few seconds, I was frustrated as fuck, my anger popping to the surface.
I zigged and zagged my way further down the pier, fisting my hands. Then a jolt of electricity tore through me like some crazy tidal wave. There she was standing barefoot in front of the small ice cream shack, talking with the girl behind the counter, carefree as she’d been the entire night. I took a few seconds not only to catch my breath but to bask in her beauty.
She was without a doubt the most stunning woman I’d ever seen, beautiful in every regard.
But she was also the most infuriating.
