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Her nerves a-jitter, Kennedy stared at her small closet, lined with Heights Animal Sanctuary uniforms, jeans, T-shirts and a few nice things. “I sure don’t want to dress like I did the other night. Something more casual.” She plucked a shirt from the rack and promptly dropped it, the hanger clattering on the wood floor. Picked it up and tripped over a shoe-box. Looked at her shaking hands. “Get it together, Kennedy.”
She stepped toward her bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. Biting her lip, she moved around a couple containers of beauty product, a bottle of ibuprofen and a box of Band-Aids, looking for the... “There it is.” She clutched the bottle of Valium she’d stashed before she’d gone into rehab. “Valium isn’t booze, right? I can simply take one. They’re only five milligrams. Enough to calm my nerves. Nothing more.” She twisted the cap open. “At least it’s not an Oxy,” she rationalized, referring to her reliance on Oxycodone a couple years back. Don’t do it. You’ve come so far.
Her damn sponsor seemed to whisper in her ear. More like a shout. “You always have a choice. Choices lead to the outcome. Ask yourself if you’ll be happy with the outcome. That’s all I’m going to say.”
“You and your fucking wisdom,” she said to the Nancy in her head and shoved the pill bottle in a drawer. “I can have one if I want to. I don’t want one at the moment. So there.” She pivoted to lean against the bathroom door, pressing her hands against the worn wood. “I can’t do this. I should text him back. Tell him this is a mistake. We should leave our past where it belongs.” The rush of heat between her legs whenever she thought of him, told her otherwise.
Her cat, SoSo, sauntered in the room. She picked up the long-haired, golden fur-ball and hugged him to her chest. His immediate purrs comforted her. He’d been a rescue cat from the pound. She got him when she left rehab, at a friend’s suggestion.
“Animals are a great source of comfort,” her friend said. “Simple pleasures go a long way when you’re finding your way back from addiction.”
“Who’s my good, good boy,” she said to the cuddly feline, nuzzling his soft fur with her face. “Who’s my source of comfort?”
He licked her nose with his sandpaper tongue.
“Thank you, SoSo.” She sat the cat on the floor, sighed deeply and decided to get ready, and not indulge in weakness. “And that’s my choice, Nancy. I’m going out with Dante Vega.”
She stepped free of the taxi forty minutes later, dressed in skinny jeans, cuffed at the ankle, and a soft linen shirt, unbuttoned to reveal her cleavage. She let her hair hang without restraint, in sleek, shiny waves along her shoulders. Added a touch of lip gloss, a little mascara and nothing more. She wanted to be comfortable, first and foremost. Like that’s going to be possible, she thought, paying the cab driver. When she whirled around to head into the trendy bistro, she nearly gasped, overtaken by sudden, instant arousal.
Wearing a lightweight, long-sleeved gray T-shirt, the sleeves pushed up to reveal his inked forearms, and body-hugging Levis, Dante studied her with predatory intent. His arms were crossed over his chest, as he leaned against the peep-show pink, neon-lit window. A slow, seductive smile spread across his handsome face.
She swiftly turned her head to see the taxi zipping into traffic, then turned back to face the rock star.
In three quick strides, he stood in front of her, wrapping his arms around her in an embrace. “Kennedy,” he said, his voice a deep caress.
Ignoring her initial impulse to run like hell, she wanted to melt into him, right here and now, drawing comfort, standing on the New York sidewalk. She longed to let him wipe away the last two years, obliterate them as if they never existed. Even her skin seemed to reach toward him with desire. This is dangerous. This is too much. She pushed away from him, her mouth full of cotton. “Hi.” The word seemed raspy, like a croak. She cleared her voice and tried again. “Hi, Dante.”
“Thanks for getting in touch. I had three extremely difficult days waiting for you.” The tip of his tongue slid across his upper lip.
“You did?” She smiled. “I had three extremely difficult days getting up the nerve to reach out.”
“Let’s get something to calm our nerves. And we can celebrate leaving difficulty behind.” He grinned and took her hand, leading her into the lower east side restaurant.
Oh, dear, she thought. Dante has no idea how wrong he is. And...I don’t want him to think I’m an...addict, she thought.
At the entrance, Dante gave his name, and the hostess’s eyebrows rose. She reined in her obvious fangirl moment and said, smoothly, “Follow me, please. Your table’s ready.”
She led them through the restaurant, hot pink ceramic pigs staring down at her from the ledges, even hotter real girls eyeing Dante, and seated them at a cozy booth. “Franco will be with you shortly.”
Kennedy slid onto the plush corner seat.
Dante followed, scooting close enough to touch. “So,” he said. “How was your day?” He picked up his cloth napkin and spread it in his lap.
She cocked her head at him and said, “Kind of rough. But better after I made the decision to see you. I almost chickened out at the last minute.”
“I’m glad you’re here. Really glad.” He placed his hand on the table and stroked Kennedy’s hand with his pinky finger.
“Nice ring,” she said, eyeing the gold band on his middle finger, inlaid with turquoise. She tried to indiscreetly scoot her hand away from his touch.
“Thanks.” He glanced at it, appearing self-conscious, twisting it around and around with his fingers. “It was a gift. Nice outfit.”
His eyes swept over her body, making her shiver.
“You cold?” His eyebrows creased slightly. “You can have my jacket.”
“I’m fine, thanks.”
He reached to touch the red spiral peeking from her bra. “I’d love to see where this leads.”
Nice double entendre, rock star. The touch felt so intimate, landing on her sensitive skin, she took in a sharp breath. Her hand clasped around his warm fingers, gently pushing him away.
He deftly turned the rejection into a connection, lacing his fingers with hers. “Interesting ink,” he said, eyeing her intently.
As they touched, long ago familiarity smothering the tension, it felt like ten years never happened. “Yes. It marks a journey,” Kennedy said.
“I have a story or two on my skin, too,” he said, smiling warmly. “Tell me about one of your stories.”
She gave him a wild-eyed glance, and again, tried to extract herself from his touch. It felt far too intimate. It felt way too good. Once she gave into the contact, she pictured herself hurtling along a train track, about to fly off the rails.
Franco, their waiter, appeared, saving her from further explanation.
“Can I get you any libations to start?”
“Kennedy?” Dante asked.
She shook her head. “Water’s fine.”
Dante looked at her quizzically. “Are you sure? I’m buying.”
“Honestly, I’m fine,” she said, fingering her napkin. She unfolded it and placed it in her lap, giving her hands something to do besides fidget.
“Okay. If you change your mind...”
“Okay, I’ll have a Coke, please.” She smiled at the waiter.
The man nodded.
“I’ll have a Jack on the rocks,” Dante said.
“Very good. I’ll get that right out for you.” The waiter nodded again and departed.
“So, tell me about your rough day,” Dante said, glossing over her awkward beginning.
“Oh, things aren’t going well at the animal sanctuary. My boss is a giant prick. The place needs funding. We’re constantly being approached to rescue cats. People outgrow the novelty. Or they prove far too much for the owner to handle. They’re not itty bitty pussycats to be cuddled and loved. They’re apex predators.
“Anyway, he’s jealous of the attention I get. I’m constantly getting approached for publications you’ve probably never heard of. Zoo related things. Nat Geo is considering featuring the work I do in a documentary. Not sure if I’m ready for that. I’ve been ducking and dodging that one for months.”
“Are you kidding? That’s great. Why wouldn’t you be ready?”
“I don’t do well with a lot of attention.” She imagined the trouble she’d be in if Mosi’s family ever found her. She thought of her fight for sobriety. And how she hadn’t yet found anything to replace her need for drink and pills to calm down.
Empty sex wasn’t the answer. Been there. Done that. Meetings helped, but Kennedy knew she needed more than a meeting. And simply being out tonight on a real date, for the first time since Mosi and all the horrible, horrible scrutiny that came with that loss, and sitting here with a man she’d been dangerously obsessed with...a man she was attracted to...it all made her feel vulnerable and scared.
She shook those thoughts from her head. “Long story. Anyway, I don’t think he’s truly doing his job. I think he lies to potential donors. Keeps them from seeing how I work with the cats. I practice different methods with the tigers. He uses force and violence. But come on, they’re sentient beings. Big, huge sentient beings with big, razor-sharp claws, but they do possess intelligence. They can...not always...but they can respond with affection.
“Positive interaction between tiger and human is a largely untapped avenue. The tricky part is we don’t know when they’ll turn into their wild beastie self and attack. That’s their primary M.O. They’re still very much uncivilized wild animals, no matter how much time we spend with them.” She shut her mouth, realizing she’d launched into her favorite subject while putting on the hat of Kennedy Swift, animal educator.
She closed her eyes briefly, as images of Mosi swam before her. She lived with danger in Africa, she lived at the edge of peril here in the states, daily. Something about it appealed to her. And here I sit, contemplating getting into bed with dynamite. What is wrong with me?
“My choty goty,” Mosi’s ghost whispered to her. “You’re as wild and excitable as these tigers.”
She opened her eyes to see Dante’s beautiful soft green ones, focused on her. “I’m sorry. I can go on and on. I’m very passionate about this topic.”
“Hey,” Dante said gently. “Don’t stop. It’s fascinating.”
Franco returned with their drinks, once more keeping her from focusing on her very private life.
“And have you decided about dinner?” the waiter said.
“We’ll need a few moments,” Dante said. “We’re catching up from a long absence.”
“Take your time,” Franco said. “I’ll return in a bit.”
Dante’s gaze landed on hers again, causing a jolt of excitement inside.
“So tell me what it’s like to be a big rock star,” she said, wanting to divert the conversation from destructive topics, like her past. “I’m sorry, but I haven’t kept up with your career. I felt pretty burned by you after high school.”
He winced. “Yeah. My biggest mistake, ever.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Or one of them. I’ve made a few over the years.”
She glanced at him through her eyelashes, curious what he was referring to, touched by his self-deprecating manner. He almost didn’t fit the profile of an arrogant superstar. “Yeah, well. And when I got caught up with Africa. Life in the States was of no interest.”
“Africa,” Dante exclaimed. “I remember you telling me about your dream to work with wild animals. How did you land there?”
“Long story. I saw a brochure on a game reserve in Africa in the high school counselor’s office. Why she had it is anyone’s guess. Then my father met a man who worked at the place. It’s called Beskerming. They have a breeding program for tigers. There are a few places like that in Africa. They’re not endemic to that continent. They re-wild them and introduce them to South China where they’ve been nearly wiped out. It sounded appealing to me. It sounded exotic. I needed to get away from here. I jumped at the chance.”
Dante seemed to wince at the “need to get away part,” but he gamely moved on. “That must have been amazing.”
“It was,” she said, growing wistful. “Meanwhile, you probably flew like a rocket. How exciting Madison Square Garden must be. And what is your tour called? Global Seduction?” She smiled, thinking if anyone could seduce the world, it was Dante Vega.
“Let’s not go there, yet. I want to explain. About high school that is.”
“I’d rather not go back to high school. I had a rough time back then.”
“How so?”
“After my parents divorced, my dad got custody. He moved us a lot. He’s got the soul of a hippie, and he couldn’t find his place in life. Always searching. Finally, he got a job here in New York, and I think he ransomed my stepmother to pay for that rich private school you went to. I hated it. I never felt a part of any clique. Instead, I focused on getting good grades.” She blew out her breath forcefully. “How do you do that?” She let out a chuckle.
“Do what?”
“Keep turning the conversation back to me. I want to hear from you.”
“You’re fascinating. I should never have let you go.”
The words wrapped around her like a soft blanket, making her feel all mushy and yummy inside. Then remembering how hurt she’d felt, how possessed she’d been, she pushed the blanket of false bliss away and fortified her insides. “Yeah, but you did. Sorry to say, you kind of trampled my heart. But then, I gave the night far more meaning than you intended.”
“No!” he blurted. “That’s not true. Do you know what it took to get up the nerve to kiss you?” He let out a short, tight laugh, and once more dragged his hand through his hair. “And then, harder still, do you know how difficult it was to not get into your pants? I was aching to see your naked body. I’d fantasized about you so many times. All my friends thought I was nuts.”
“Yeah, all your A-Lister friends.” She rolled her eyes, while her insides blazed. What did he just say? He wanted my naked body?
“Some of them were idiots. I never see most of them. I still have a couple as friends, but...I admit, they made it hard to get to you. And then, I had complications at home.”
“Like what?”
“I’ll get to that,” he said, taking a sip of his drink. “Let’s order. I’m famished.” He picked up the menu and said, “What do you like to eat?”
“I’ll eat anything. I’m an omnivore.” She smiled.
“Good girl. Same here.” He made a few suggestions, she made a few suggestions, and soon their order was with Franco. He turned to her again and said, “About the complications. In my senior year, my dad got caught in an affair. It probably wasn’t the first, but it was the first he was busted on.”
“Oh, no.”
“Oh, yes. Dad’s a philanderer. Anyway, he broke my mom’s heart, and there was all this drama at home. Meanwhile, my little brother kept having seizures.”
“Seizures? Why?”
“Long story. The umbilical cord wrapped around Damien’s neck at birth, he was without oxygen for a few terrifying moments, and then, he was born with brain damage.” Dante sighed. “Anyway, on top of that, my dad, the big wig financial analyst, thought sure I’d embarked on the road to ruin with music.
“It seemed like it all happened at once. Dad forced a summer-long trip to Europe on us, in an attempt to win back mom’s affections. Seriously forced. I came home from my night with you, eager to see you again, and I was literally whisked to the airport. You should have seen the fit I pitched.” He smiled at her ruefully.
She regarded him, stunned, realizing she had a completely different story about him in her head.
“In Europe, my brother kept having seizures. Good thing my mom knows several languages. She got him medical care in Germany, France, and Austria. Then, when we came home from that torturous summer, I had no way of contacting you. I didn’t know where you’d gone, but it wouldn’t have mattered because my dad shipped me off to M.I.T. Fuck. My life sucked back then. Dad at the helm. The mighty ex-military turned hedge fund scumbag trying to guide his errant son.” He dragged his hand across his face. “But now, here we sit. Instant replay. A do-over.” His eyes glinted wickedly at her as he spoke.
“You’re breaking down my stereotype of you.” She let a smile play at the edge of her mouth. “I thought you simply wanted to toy with me back then.”
“Oh, I did want to toy with you. Man, oh, man, did I want to toy with you. This time, I won’t toy.” He let his hand fall under the table, coming to rest on her thigh. “I’ll caress. I’ll tease. I’ll torture you with intent until you scream my name, over and over and over,” he said, tracing circles on her inner thigh. “Nothing will stop me.”
The contact made her shiver.
He drew a finger up the inside of her thigh, in a slow sweep. “What do you think, Kennedy Swift? Are you going to be my extremely longed for new toy? Do you think I’ll get to have my way with you?”
“I think,” she whispered, “you did before, and you are again.”
“You want it, too,” he whispered into her ear, his warm breath causing another shudder.
That wild recklessness she held in captivity began clawing to get free. I’m about to take the red pill. She squared her shoulders and looked deeply and directly at him. “Yes, Dante. I do.”
He grinned like he had just scored the lottery. “Then let’s consume our meal and let the games begin.”
