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“I already know you own a jet. That fact is more than obvious.”
“Hell.” Kale looked decidedly uncomfortable as he released her elbow. “How?”
Davia’s laughter made a boisterous entry. “Surely the guy who envisioned the era of the luxury multiplex rates such perks!” Her eyes narrowed to fix him with a lightly discerning look. “Do trappings like that disturb you?”
“They do when I’m trying to gain the approval of someone who’s already got me in the doghouse. And since the cat’s out of the bag,” he continued before Davia could refute his doghouse claim, “and since we’re going to the same place, the least I could do is give you a lift.”
As her sense of precaution and treading carefully had pretty much abandoned her, Davia didn’t see the harm in going all-in. “Lift accepted. Thanks.”
Kale nodded his satisfaction and tilted his head toward the desk where a beer mug waited next to a frosted bottle of the brew. “Enjoy your drink. I’ll see you later.”
“Aren’t you having something?” she called, realizing he was leaving.
“I’ve got it stocked on the jet. I’ll have one later.”
Davia glanced at the bottle, noticing it was her own label. “How—?”
“My attorney’s file was very detailed.” Kale’s eyes sparkled as he enjoyed her surprise. “It’s a good product, Davia. You should be proud that you’re a partner in that brewery. See you later.”
“And I suppose you already know where I live?”
Hand on the office doorknob, Kale paused and turned to her. “Like I said, my attorney’s file was very detailed. I’ll see you, Davia.”
The door closed at his back just as Davia released the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
Chapter 4 (#u11d3f8b8-d5a5-5f54-b6d4-953f007d3c02)
Davia headed home to pack more. The turn of the discussion with Estelle Waverly had clearly indicated that more than a three-day stay would be required. But why?
Realizing her thoughts had rendered her immovable inside her walk-in closet, Davia shook herself. She pulled a few more garments from the rack that held everything from fisherman’s sweaters to ankle-length cardigans and shearling coats.
She had a pretty good idea that her questions pertaining to the Mullins affair would be answered soon enough. What she wasn’t sure of was whether her questions pertaining to Kale Asante would be answered. Her conversation with him had taken an intriguing turn, as well, she recalled.
What he’d had to say about Martella...was it really true? She had spent so long living under a completely different version of the truth. That version of the truth felt good, it felt safe. Yes, that truth was like a warm blanket, because the more time she could spend despising Kale Asante for Martella, the less time she had to despise herself for not doing more to help her dearest friend. Still, she hadn’t been able to shake the man’s explanation. Something about what he’d shared stuck with her. When he’d spoken, she’d felt a tug of sincerity in his eyes.
She couldn’t stop the snicker that tickled the back of her throat. A tug from the sincerity in his eyes? While she wouldn’t claim Kale Asante wasn’t sincere, that element hadn’t been at all responsible for the definite tug she’d felt in his presence.
Earlier, she’d been amused by her receptionist’s clearly dazed demeanor around Kale. While he’d been exceptionally polite to Leslie, Davia had the sense the man was both accustomed to and appreciative of the reactions he drew from the women fortunate enough to make his acquaintance.
Davia tossed another sweater into the case a bit more forcefully than necessary. She cringed over her selection of the word fortunate but...hell, she was alone. She could admit she’d felt fortunate indeed to have been given the opportunity to look upon such a specimen like Kale Asante.
His looks were assuredly a study in patient craftsmanship. It was rare that she met a man who managed to make her feel dwarfed by his height when she was decked out in heels, for which she had what had to be an unhealthy obsession. With her feet encased in a chic, strappy pair like the ones she wore, her height could top out at a whopping six-two.
Not that such things mattered. The men Davia met were usually business-related instead of personal. She hadn’t been thinking of Kale Asante in a business sense...
Davia shook herself again, selected more sweaters from the closet and dumped them onto her bed where the open suitcase sat already half filled.
No, she hadn’t been thinking of Kale in a business sense. Ironically, it was for that reason she’d been so quick, so certain, of her belief that he’d used his allure to deceive her best friend.
Was it so inconceivable that Tella was made of stronger stuff? After all, her interests at the time had involved elements that threatened her very safety. Whatever Martella may’ve been preoccupied by at the time, Davia was pretty sure Kale Asante’s looks hadn’t gone unnoticed by her best friend.
What woman wouldn’t notice such a body and face? The athletic build, the length of him that had to top the six and a half feet mark at least. His skin was the tone of molten caramel. His deep-set stare possessed the same coloring. Not to mention his close-cut crop of light brown waves. The rich coloring was an attraction on its own.
Holding on to intense dislike in the presence of such an erotic distraction was virtually impossible and now it was only going to get harder. Now they were to be in close proximity for however long it’d take to unravel the mystery they’d inherited.
Davia had enough confidence in her abilities to know she could set aside the allure of Kale Asante, but she still had to admit the man had far more going for him than his good looks. That quiet voice of his was deep but noticeably soft in its delivery. She wondered if he ever raised it. She mused it’d hold a raspy quality if he did. Such was the case with her own husky tone, she knew.
Beyond the voice, there were additional mannerisms that had captured her attention. The way he’d handled her elliptical, the slow brush of the back of his hand along the machine’s bars and levers... She wondered if his touch was so gentle with other things.
Then there was the grin and the playful wince he gave when she’d managed to surprise him or challenge him on some point. She’d been attracted by his looks, but his mannerisms...those were the elements that had intrigued her.
And now you’ve got no reason to hate him.
Davia shook her head free of the unwanted reminder. No, if she took his explanation as fact, she had no reason to dislike him, but that didn’t mean she could fall into bed with him. Well, she could...but should she? And why the hell was she even considering that? Aside from his comment about wanting to know if she was incredible to look at, he’d been the consummate gentleman. She was the one with her mind in her...lingerie drawer.
The accusation had her leaving the suitcase to check the aforementioned drawer for tights and other undergarments.
Davia was tossing an assortment of socks and underthings into the case when the doorbell rang.
She checked her wrist but found she hadn’t yet put her watch back on. Then she looked to the small grandfather clock on the second-floor landing of her town home. She had over an hour before the car arrived. Davia gritted her teeth in dread of an unforeseen business emergency that might be about to throw a wrench into her plans.
She ran downstairs and was surprised when she opened the door.
“Kale?” She gave a self-conscious tug to the hem of the T-shirt she wore with an old pair of denim capris. Once again, she checked her wrist for the watch she still wasn’t wearing.
“You’re not late. I’m early.” Kale met her gaze and smiled.
“I, uh, I thought you were sending a car for me?” Davia’s tone was cautious, curious.
“I did.” Kale turned from the doorway where his frame had eclipsed her view of the cobblestone drive beyond the courtyard where a silver Land Rover waited.
Davia blinked as if mildly stunned. “You drove?”
“I’ve been known to.” His manner was playfully bland.
“So are you trying to make a statement?” Davia joined in on the tease.
“Trying to. I hope it’s one that’ll impress you.”
It occurred to Davia that they were still in her doorway. Quickly she inched back to wave him inside.
“I’ve only got to get dressed and throw a few more things in my suitcase,” she said.
“No rush. It’s not like we’re gonna miss our flight.”
“Right.” Inwardly, Davia gave herself a few mental kicks for behaving like a nervous girl on her first date. She was so not that and a date was so not what this was.
“I was just going to take a quick shower before I got dressed.” Her tone was still breathy and anxious. She wanted to kick herself for real.
Kale laughed. “Davia, it’s all right. We don’t have bags to check. No security gates to clear. I’m ready when you are. Call down to me when you’re done with your packing and I’ll come up and get your suitcase.”
“Oh, no, you...you don’t have to do that,” she told him, only to have him move into her personal space.
“I want to do that,” he said.
Her actual height of five-eleven was greatly dwarfed by him. She admitted to feeling appreciatively overwhelmed and knew it was time to go.
“The kitchen’s behind the bar around this side of the stairway...” she began in an airy, much lighter tone. As she motioned in the direction, she noted, “Just help yourself to anything you want.” Then, turning, she quickly sprinted back up the way she’d come.
Only when Davia had disappeared around the corner at the top of the stairs did Kale look away. Just help yourself to anything you want. Her words reverberated in his head. He muttered an obscenity to criticize himself and wondered if he should tell her to be careful what she said to him.
No...he shouldn’t tell her because it would confirm that solving the mystery of what she was like in bed had consumed the bulk of his thoughts since they’d met. Correction—since he’d seen that picture of her in Felton’s file. And wouldn’t that just take her right back to hating him?
Back to? Had the truth of what really happened between him and Martella Friedman changed or at least softened her perception of him? He wanted Davia to believe that hustling a woman into his bed was not the first thing he thought of when he conducted business. He wanted her to think that because it was actually true. He wanted her to think that even though all he could think of in that moment was having her amazing legs wrapped around his back and that smoky voice of hers moaning his name while he lost his mind inside her.
Muttering to himself, Kale charted a path for the bar and didn’t stop until he tossed back a swig of her fine, locally brewed beer. Why the hell should he care about any of that? Before two days ago, he never thought he’d meet Davia Sands. Providing the truth about Martella hadn’t even been a blip on his radar despite the fact that he didn’t appreciate dark marks being put on his business reputation unless he put them there.
Now he was...what? Trying to pass himself off as a better man when he was nowhere near that? It was as he’d told Davia earlier. He had no interest in being that type of guy.
You did right by Martella. The quiet voice wedged in from his subconscious.
With a grunt, he took another swig of the beer.
* * *
Davia completed her packing and shower in record time. She left her bedroom carrying the weight of her suitcase, garment bag and tote with apparent ease. Impressive, when one considered the stiletto-heeled, mocha-suede boots climbed just above her knees.
Though he approved of the vision she was, Kale didn’t hold much hope that the stairs, heels and luggage would play well together. He took the steps two at a time and relieved Davia of her things before she took the third step down.
“Nice boots,” he said.
Davia glanced down. “Thanks. I thought so, too.”
Kale hoisted the garment bag strap over a shoulder. “Not sure how well they’ll go with an Iowa cornfield.”
“I’m sure I won’t be finding out.” Davia’s reply was full of humor. “My plan is to be in a pair of sneakers or hiking boots by the time I’m in range of one.” She gave another look toward her stylish stems. “These are just for first impressions.” And to appease my unhealthy obsession, she added silently.
Kale carried down the luggage with a fluid grace. “So we’re trying to make a good impression? I should’ve kept my suit on, I guess.”
“I think they’ll take you seriously enough.” Davia admired the quarter-length chamois suede jacket he wore with dark green hiking boots and a shirt of the same color that hung outside a pair of indigo jeans.
“So tell me why we’re trying to make a good impression? I assume it’s for more than the obvious reason of being polite.”
Davia was making a quick check of her tote for anything she may have forgotten. “We don’t know what we’ll find when we get there,” she said. “We may actually want to hold on to our inheritance. If so, we’ll want our new neighbors to like us, right?”
“If so?” Kale set the bags down near the door and turned to face her. “Do you think you might sell it? I got the impression before that you wanted to keep it at all costs.”
“Well, well, Mr. Asante, it seems you’re the one who’s thoughtfully listening now,” she teased.
Kale shrugged, his smile indicating he might have been faintly embarrassed. “You’re having a good influence on me, I guess.”
Davia smiled approvingly and then sighed. “I’ve been thinking about our talk with Estelle Waverly. Ever since we hung up with her, I’ve been growing more suspicious of what we’re stepping into.”
Kale crossed to where Davia stood near an armchair in the expansive space that held a living room and a den on opposite sides.
“You’re thinking she’s not on the level?” Kale asked.
“It’s not that.” Davia quickly shook her head. “But I do get the sense that there’s some kind of...drama involved and that it might play heavily into why my aunt and your uncle never got more involved with the property.”
Kale moved past Davia to pace the living room. She noticed he was stroking his jaw and recalled that he’d done so in her office while they’d talked. The mannerism, teamed with the assessing look that took hold of his jarringly attractive face, made for a captivating mix.
“Do you remember what Estelle Waverly said when I asked if we were expected to attend that council meeting?” Kale said after a long, quiet moment.
Davia sighed again and nodded. “She said ‘it depends on who you ask.’”
* * *
Davia admitted—and wasn’t at all hesitant to do so—that there was a lot to be said for flying by private aircraft. The drive to and subsequent boarding of Kale’s jet had been leisurely and not at all marred by the frenzy and frustration generally associated with a commercial flight.
So much relaxation, however, played to the exhaustion that had mounted in preparation for the trip. Davia gave in to the need for a catnap some fifteen minutes after she and Kale settled in aboard the luxurious craft.
But while she had settled in, such was not the case for Kale. He’d been issuing silent commands to himself not to stare ever since he’d met her. He was determined not to play into any of the behaviors one might associate with the kind of man Davia had taken him for over the past several years.
After leaving her office he’d told himself it was, of course, her looks that had sparked his jaw-dropping reaction to her. Now he completely understood that that perception had merely been his way of avoiding the truth of it. Davia Sands’s looks were simply one aspect of why he’d been so powerfully and unexpectedly captivated by her. Her poised, easy demeanor; the confidence in her words and outlook... Kale knew those elements had been the lure now reeling him in so effortlessly.
Davia had fallen asleep shortly after they’d boarded and Kale was grateful for the chance to ease up on his silent warnings against staring. With the woman at ease, he could stare until he’d had his fill.
A smile further defined the lush curve of Kale’s mouth. Davia’s breathing had deepened and he took a chance on satisfying a bit more of his curiosity. Slowly he allowed his fingertips to drift ever so gently along the line of her cheek. His smile deepened when he discovered her skin felt as silken as it appeared.
He was rubbing a few tendrils of her clipped hair between his fingers when Davia’s lashes stirred to hint of her waking. Kale was cool in his retreat and had distanced himself by the time her eyes opened.
Davia woke with a small yawn and smaller frown as she worked to get her bearings. Finding Kale seated across the small aisle, she smiled.
“How long was I out?” she asked.
Kale raised a shoulder in a lazy shrug. “About forty-five minutes. We aren’t even halfway there so you’ve got time to catch a few more z’s if you want.”
Davia gave in to another yawn. “I think I’m okay now.”
“Get you a drink?” Kale offered, already pushing up from the swivel chair he’d occupied.
“Sure.” Davia’s face brightened with a cunning smile. “I need you to prove to me that you’ve got my beer on this plane.”
“Sit tight.” Kale was already bending to check the mini fridge behind the small bar in the rear of the cabin.
“It’s good to know we’ve got a reach all the way back east,” Davia noted.
“They were serving it at a party I went to out west,” he explained while silently admitting he’d have visited the brewery had he known earlier she was part of it. “How’d you get into that business anyway?” he asked, retrieving two bottles of the chilled brew.
