Did she think she could summon me like one of her henchmen? I had left messages and sent texts. I’d had flowers delivered along with her favorite champagne from Marguerite’s. She had returned everything unopened, including the apology note. I never had a chance to explain the PAC. My words were always going to fall flat.
But maybe this meant she had taken the bait. She knew Crew had been in contact with me in public. I expected her to eyes all over the city, but I was impressed how quickly she received the information.
I texted my response and shoved my phone in my back pocket.
This might be the only chance I had. I grabbed the keys to one of the family cars and opened the garage door. The thunder boomed as I steered toward the Martin mansion.
The windshield wipers swished back and forth on the highest setting. I had to watch for street flooding on my drive over. A few of the roads had already been blocked off with detour warnings. The storm was only getting worse. I sat outside Kennedy’s house. I stared at the second-floor window that used to be her bedroom. I wondered if it still was. Had she taken over the master suite? Had she converted her father’s apartments into her own? Part of me found it hard to believe she still lived in the mansion. She had never liked it much.
The house was dark except for the flickering gas lamps on either side of the porch. I didn’t bring my detail with me. I was alone. If this was the moment Kennedy decided to take me out instead of call a family truce, there was nothing I could do.
I was stupid enough to take the fucking chance it wasn’t an ambush.
I pushed the driver side door open and ran into the rain. It streamed down my face. The cold droplets soaked into my shirt.
I pounded on the front door. I wasn’t surprised when Kimble opened it.
He glared at me. “Yes?”
“Kennedy is expecting me,” I explained. I wiped the water from my eyes, making a move to cross the threshold, but he blocked me.
“Wait here.”
I growled. “There’s a hurricane out here. Let me in now, Kimble.”
He let the door swing wide.
“Thanks.” I walked into the foyer.
“You need to wait. I’ll see if she’s ready for you.”
I shook the water from my hair.
“This way.” Kimble reappeared from the dark hallway. I expected to be escorted into the downstairs office, but he climbed the stairs.
A trail of water marked every step I took. Kimble turned right then left before making another turn. I didn’t know this part of the house. He pushed open the door. A light shone through the brief crack at the entrance.
“You can go in.” I thought the look he gave me was a warning. It always was. How many times had he wanted to kill me with his bare hands?
I walked past him, aware that the door was closed behind me on my way into the room.
“You made it.” Kennedy stood. Her long legs, revealed by the opening of her dress. Or was it a robe? It was flowy fabric that cut in a deep V and tied with a belt. I’d always been amazed at how she could pull off elegant, casual, and sexy at the same time. Tonight, was no different. I had to drag my eyes away from her legs.
“You do realize there’s a tropical depression out there?” I shoved my hands in pockets, realizing too late that even they were soaked.
“Maybe you should change.” Her eyes canvassed my clothes. “It looks like you’ve been in the pool.”
“I didn’t bring a change of clothes.”
She shrugged. “I have something I’m sure.” She crossed the room with graceful movements and began searching through a walk-in closet. She emerged with a set of dry clothes. “Here. You can change in the next room.” She pointed me to the bathroom.
“I don’t think I need to change,” I argued.
“You should.” There was no room for disagreement. “I’ll give you a minute.”
I clasped the folded clothes. I didn’t want to know who they belonged to. Did she keep a closet of men’s clothes? A few minutes later I was at least dry. I hung the wet shirt and pants over the tub.
“Better?” I asked.