Turn On A Dime - Blane's Turn (The Kathleen Turner Series) Page 12

  Kathleen was sound asleep on the bed. She hadn’t even removed her shoes, she’d fallen asleep so fast. The emotional turmoil of the past few days had to be taking a toll on her.

  But she’d felt safe in his home. Safe enough to sleep so soundly she hadn’t even heard him enter the room.

  Blane carefully removed the flats she wore, then grabbed a blanket from the closet and gently covered her. She sighed softly, burrowing deeper into the pillows. Blane brushed his knuckles against her cheek, his touch feather light.

  What was he going to do with her?

  The thought preoccupied him through dinner and after he’d retired to the den for a drink. Blane had asked Mona to do some shopping for Kathleen, she needed groceries, linens, that sort of thing. Mona had been happy to comply, taking the key and address to her apartment.

  Blane hadn’t heard from Kade about Mark’s backpack but knew better than to call him. Kade hated being nagged. He’d call him when he had it.

  It was late when he heard Kathleen creeping down the stairs. Someone else might not have heard her, but Blane was attuned to every sound this house made and he knew immediately when she woke and began moving around upstairs.

  Soundlessly, Blane followed the noises to the kitchen. Kathleen was sitting at the kitchen table, eating what looked like ice cream. She hadn’t spotted him yet.

  “I see you woke up,” he said, moving closer until he could lean against the counter and crossing his arms over his chest.

  She started at the sound of his voice, her hand immediately moving to smooth her hair when she saw him before seeming to catch herself. When she said nothing, he nodded to the nearly empty container in front of her. “Ice cream?”

  “Sorry,” she said, sounding a little embarrassed. “I’ve eaten nearly all of it.”

  That was fine with Blane. He hadn’t even realized Mona kept ice cream here.

  “It’s rocky road,” Kathleen added.

  “Rocky road?”

  “Chocolate-covered nuts wrapped in marshmallowy goodness in chocolate ice cream. What’s not to love?”

  “Indeed.” Blane’s lips twitched at this. He was learning more about Kathleen every moment. She apparently thought rocky road ice cream an irresistible treat. He filed that information away for later as he took a seat opposite her at the table. She was still eating and Blane knew he was a little too interested in watching her lick the ice cream from the spoon, though she seemed unaware of his fascination.

  “You have a really beautiful home,” she said. “Do you live alone?”

  Blane could detect no avarice in her tone, just the curiosity of polite conversation. “Thank you,” he said. “And yes, I live alone.” He wondered if she thought he had a live-in girlfriend or something. As if he could tolerate a woman living with him.

  “Your brother?” she asked.

  Blane shook his head. He was certain he and Kade would kill each other if forced to live together for an extended period of time.

  “Your parents?”

  “They’re no longer with me.” And that’s all he wanted to say about that. Blane changed the subject. “Do you know why anyone would have done that to your apartment?” He wanted to know how much Kathleen knew of how deep she was in this mess. It was too much to hope for that this had been a random thing and not tied to Sheila’s murder.

  “No, I don’t,” she said. “I don’t really have any enemies here and I don’t own anything of any real value.”

  “Maybe someone with a vendetta,” Blane persisted. “A jilted lover?” That he would kill with his bare hands.

  She blushed, clearing her throat before answering. “Um . . . no, that couldn’t be, I mean, there’s not . . . just . . . no.”

  Blane would have bet his next paycheck that she was a virgin, though the idea that she was untouched at her age was a bit of a stretch. If she wasn’t a virgin, then she was still decidedly inexperienced. Though the way she was licking the spoon for every last smear of chocolate had him imagining her tongue doing other things.

  Kathleen finished the ice cream and seemed to cement Blane’s assessment of her sexual experience, or lack thereof, by simple dismissing him with a “Well, good night.”

  Nice try. Blane’s hand circled her arm. “I’ll walk you back upstairs,” he said. “It’s dark and I don’t want you to trip and fall.” Right. And there was absolutely no chance he’d have her naked and making those little panting noises again inside of ten minutes.

  But she seemed to buy it, following him trustingly up the stairs, which oddly made Blane feel a twinge of guilt at the direction of his thoughts.

  “I’m sorry I fell asleep and missed dinner,” Kathleen said. “That was rude of me.”

  Now the guilt was more than a twinge, which just irritated Blane. Kathleen’s innocent trust made him want to grind his teeth in frustration. Surely she knew where this was going. He’d been fantasizing of seducing Kathleen for weeks and now his conscience was going fuck it up.

  “You were tired,” he said, the internal war waging inside his head making the words more curt than he’d intended. She didn’t respond and a moment later they stood in front of her door. Blane knew with a sinking in his gut that he wasn’t going to follow through on his plans to seduce her.

  Damn it to hell.

  “Mona put some clothes for you in the bureau and closet,” he said. “They should fit well enough until your apartment is back together.” She didn’t need to know that some of it had been Kandi’s.

  To his dismay, Kathleen seemed to choke up at that, her eyes filling with tears.

  “Thank you,” she managed to say. A lone tear traced down her cheek.

  Blane lifted his hand to wipe it away. “I’m sorry,” he said. Sorry this had happened to her, sorry for the thoughts raging inside his head of what he wanted to do to her, sorry he’d every laid eyes on her because she was going to be his eventually—she just didn’t know it yet.

  “It’s all right,” she said.

  Her light dismissal of what had happened angered Blane, as her obvious vulnerability frustrated and worried him.

  “It’s not all right,” he said. “You need someone to take care of you.” And that someone was going to be him. But he knew immediately that he’d pushed too hard, too fast. Her eyes widened and she stepped back, beyond his reach.

  “I don’t need anyone to take care of me. I can take care of myself.”

  Blane’s eyes narrowed at the obvious lie and she took another step back from him. “Because you’re doing such a great job?” he bit out. Next time, they wouldn’t just break into her apartment, they’d find her, take her, and God only knew what they’d do to her. It terrified him just thinking about it.

  Kathleen didn’t say anything else, the truth of his words seeming to sink in as the fire faded from her eyes. She slipped past him into the bedroom. It was only through sheer force of will that Blane didn’t follow her inside.

  Blane couldn’t sleep and didn’t even try. He paced his room, thinking. The shower started in Kathleen’s bedroom and he tried not to think of her naked and wet just a few yards from him. What was he going to do? He had to protect her, but couldn’t if she kept pulling this whole “I can take care of myself” routine. She responded badly to an outright challenge, but there was something between them. Blane could use that to his advantage, tie her to him emotionally, then she wouldn’t have any problems with him protecting her, taking care of her.

  The shower stopped and Blane still paced, trying to come up with the best way forward. He needed to talk to her, that was all. Explain that he wanted to help her. She’d listen. She had to.

  That decided, Blane set out down the hall to Kathleen’s door. His hand raised, preparing to knock, when he heard it.

  Kathleen was crying.

  Blane opened the door, the faint light from the window illuminating the huddled figure on the bed. She’d buried her face in the pillow, probably trying not to make any noise.

  In seconds, Blane w
as at her side. Scooping her in his arms, he cradled her against his chest as he sat on the bed, much like he had the night of Sheila’s death. Kathleen clung to him, her body wracked with sobs and her tears dampening his shirt.

  Blane stroked her damp hair, crooning softly to her. “Shh. It’s all right. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.” It became a mantra and a pledge, a promise he made to her and himself. Nothing was going to happen to her, not while he was around.

  Finally, she quieted, her tears fading into silence. Blane lifted her chin so he could see her face. Long wet lashes framed her eyes, the tears making the blue depths sparkle in the night. Wide and innocent, her trust for him was like a vine reaching out to bind Blane to her.

  To Blane’s utter surprise, Kathleen leaned forward and pressed her lips to his, her arms wrapping around his neck. For a moment, Blane was too shocked to respond, then the dormant heat in his blood surged and he kissed her back hungrily.

  Kathleen’s lips were as soft as he remembered, her taste just as sweet. He devoured her, holding her close against him. She moved to straddle him and his erection pressed against her softness. Blane groaned, his kiss deepening as his fingers threaded through her long, silken hair. She kissed him back just as fervently, the heat between them spiraling out of control.

  Kathleen unbuttoned his shirt, her soft hands tracing the lines of Blane’s chest, her tentative touch more arousing than Blane would have thought possible. His hands gripped her hips underneath the T-shirt she wore. He could feel the tiny scrap of fabric covering the part of her body he most ached to be, but the part of his brain still able to think coherently knew he shouldn’t go there. And he was doing okay, just kissing her, right up until she tugged her shirt off.

  He was only a man and the temptation of her breasts was too great to resist. Their heavy fullness in his hands made his dick almost painfully hard. Her nipples were silken tips against his rough palms and he was dying to know how they’d taste. Kathleen gasped at his touch, her head falling back on her neck. The light shone on her hair, causing it to glow silvery gold in the night.

  Blane could spend hours just watching her reactions as he touched her, but it seemed she had a different agenda. Her hands reached for his belt and clarity finally came to Blane through the fog of arousal.

  Could he do this? Hadn’t he just been dwelling on how young she was? Too innocent and trusting for her own good?

  Blane caught her wrists with his hands, halting her attempts to undo his pants.

  Kathleen looked up in surprise at him. Her mouth was swollen from his kisses, her cheeks flushed, her eyes bright with desire. She pressed herself more firmly against Blane’s erection, making it clear what she wanted.

  As if she was in any proper frame of mind to make a decision like this, and that thought decided it.

  “Stop,” Blane said through clenched teeth.

  Kathleen frowned, as though she didn’t understand. Leaning forward, she kissed his jaw, the tips of her breasts grazing his chest.

  Blane’s grip on her wrists tightened. If she kept doing that, no way was he going to be able to control himself. He couldn’t remember ever wanting a woman as badly as he wanted her.

  “I said stop,” he repeated, pushing her backward until she lay flat on her back. Blane was above her, pinning her arms over her head as he crouched between her spread thighs. Light from the window illuminated her body and Blane hesitated. She was every man’s dream, ready and willing. His resolve wavered.

  “Make love to me,” she said, her voice pleading.

  And Blane knew he couldn’t do it. Every part of his body was clamoring for his head to shut up and just fuck her already, but that’s not what she wanted, not really. Her words had just confirmed it. Blane could have sex with her, could fuck her until both of them were dripping with sweat and exhausted, but he could not make love to her.

  “I . . . can’t,” he said finally. “I won’t.”

  Her expression turned aghast. “What? Why?”

  Blane released her wrists, his gaze devouring what he’d probably never see again and his hands followed where his eyes touched. Moving slowly down her arms, his fingers brushed the skin of her shoulders, her sides, over her collarbone and down to cup her breasts, to her stomach that quaked under his touch to the delicate swell of her hips.

  “You’re beautiful, Kat. Perfect,” he said. “And I thought I could, but I can’t. You’re too young and innocent and I’m not going to do that to you.”

  “You’re Blane Kirk,” she spat. “Since when do you care?”

  Blane expected the bitterness in her voice, after all, he was rejecting her in the most intimate way a man could reject a woman. But he had no choice, not if he wanted to be able to live with himself. And she was right. He’d made no secret of the revolving door of women he’d had sex with, but hearing Kathleen say it made shame creep over him.

  “Usually, I don’t,” he said, his voice hard. Selfish anger made his fingers grasp the fragile fabric that still kept part of her from being bare to him. One quick pull and it’d be over. He’d be inside her, pushing his straining cock into her wet heat, making her cry out his name as she came. The silk was soaked with her arousal, the evidence of Kathleen’s desire for him nearly making Blane lose the careful grip he had on his control. Then another thought hit him.

  “I doubt you’re on any sort of birth control either, are you?” His cold question seemed to break through to Kathleen, her face paling. Yes, darling, this was sex. Two people using each other to get off, and the consequences of that wasn’t a white wedding and a happily-ever-after. Not with him.

  Blane let out a vicious curse at the shattered look on Kathleen’s face, hating that he was responsible for it. But he knew she’d hurt even worse in the morning if they did this tonight. He didn’t do relationships, even with a woman as lovely as her.

  Grabbing his shirt, he covered her torso so he could at least make it out of the room. Blane kissed her one more time, and knew he was being much too rough, but couldn’t seem to help taking his frustration out on her. A moment later, he left, slamming the door behind him.

  Seventeen Years Ago

  After that, Kade gradually settled in to living with Blane. Blane spent time with him every day, trying to get to know him, which was harder than he thought it’d be for a kid Kade’s age.

  Kade was suspicious, cynical, and always guarded. He was also funny, his dry sense of humor very similar to Blane’s. He acted much older than his age, and Blane tried not to dwell on why that was the case. When they talked, it was of inconsequential things, just building a relationship. Blane didn’t push for Kade to spill his guts. It was a learning curve for Blane, too, learning how to deal with Kade as both a brother and father figure.

  Mona and Gerard were a godsend. Kade took to Mona immediately, and she was soon cooking as many of his favorites as she could discover. Gradually, Kade put on weight, which eased Blane’s mind. He also stopped sneaking food into his backpack as time passed, which Blane took to be a good sign.

  It was late in August when Blane thought maybe Kade would want to play catch with him. Grabbing a baseball and two gloves, he went to search for Kade, finally finding him in the kitchen. Unsurprisingly, he was eating a snack Mona had made for him, though dinner was only a couple of hours away. The kid was a bottomless pit, but then again, Blane remembered he’d been a bottomless pit at that age, too.

  “Hey, want to go play catch?” he asked, handing Kade a glove.

  Kade took it, looking at it like he’d just been given a manure-crusted shoe. “Why?” he asked.

  Blane shrugged, hiding a smile. “It’s nice out and I haven’t played in a while. You’ll like it. C’mon.”

  Kade followed him outside, wearing jeans and a short-sleeved black T-shirt. Blane had tried to buy him some shorts, but Kade had refused. He only wore jeans. And it had been a concession just to get him to wear short sleeves. His wardrobe was mostly black, though Blane had snuck in a few items that were
navy and couple of white shirts as well.

  It was obvious right away that Kade had never done this before. Without drawing too much attention to that fact, Blane helped him with the glove and showed him the basics. It was enough and soon they were tossing the ball back and forth underneath the shade of the oak trees out back.

  “A friend of mine is coming over tonight,” Blane said, catching Kade’s toss. He threw it back.

  “Who?” Kade asked, catching the ball with only a little awkwardness.

  “A girl. I’ve known her since we were little. Her name is Kandi.”

  “Is she your girlfriend?”

  Blane hesitated. “Sort of. She’s a junior and we’ve been seeing each other on and off for a while. Been friends for a long time though. I’m anxious for her to meet you.”

  Kade considered this. No one had been by to visit since he’d been here, and until today, he hadn’t thought much of it. Now he wondered if Blane was embarrassed by him. Absently, he caught the ball, the leather glove smacking with the impact, and threw it back. This was kind of fun. He’d never done it before.

  “Tomorrow we need to go enroll you in school,” Blane said. “They’ll want to give you tests, that kind of thing, to place you properly.”

  Kade shrugged. Tests were easy. The less he cared, the better he did.

  The girl, Kandi, came by for dinner. She was beautiful. She had long, blonde hair that hung in a straight, gleaming curtain down her back, blue eyes, a golden tan, and legs that seemed to go on forever. She smiled when Blane introduced her to Kade, but Kade quickly saw that though she said all the right things, her eyes were calculating, measuring him. A nearly imperceptible disdain curled her lip and tinged her voice when she spoke.

  Kade wasn’t a bit surprised that perfect-golden-boy Blane had a perfect-Barbie-doll-girlfriend. What did surprise him was how Blane didn’t seem to see her for what she was, a spoiled, selfish brat who thought she was better than Kade, and probably everyone else, for that matter.

  Kade excused himself to go to the bathroom. When he returned, he caught his name and stopped in the hallway to eavesdrop.