Uncensored Passion (Men of Passion) Page 7

  Luke spoke up. “Dammit, that’s my fault, Kayla. I was outside and came in for just a moment for a drink of water. Guess I didn’t close it completely. I saw the guys relaxing in the Jacuzzi, and when they asked me to join them, I did. I’m sorry. I should have made sure the door was closed and locked.”

  Visibly shaken, J.J. asked tremulously, “Do you want me to leave, Kayla?”

  The other three men chorused a “Hell no.”

  She looked from one to another.

  “Kayla?” J.J. voiced the one word question, his magnificent eyes suddenly tearing.

  She leaned against him and he held her close, proclaiming, “I love you, Kayla. In fact, I’ve come to love all of you,” he said in a choked voice as he glanced at the other men. “And I don’t want to leave. This feels like the first home I’ve ever really known. Please don’t make me go. Somehow I’ll get it across to my parents that even if I do leave here, even if I stop being your pool boy, I’ll never go back to San Antonio, and they’ll never know where I do go from here. Maybe that will shut them up.”

  Kayla was having a hard time holding back her emotions. So were Lee and Luke, who were both softhearted and obviously stricken by J.J.’s choked plea. Though Harm was clear-eyed, she could tell he was also deeply touched as he reached out to pat J.J.’s back.

  “No one’s telling you to leave, J.J. We’re bound together, all of us,” Luke said quietly.

  With a sigh, Kayla agreed, then added, “But I don’t think we’ve heard the last from your parents, even if you do tell them that, J.J. Maybe you could satisfy them with a compromise. Perhaps enroll in a community college at least, if you don’t want to go back to Vanderbilt. I have the number of the hotel where they’re staying. Give them a call. Tell them that and see how they respond. We’ll give you privacy for that. Come on, guys.”

  She got up and the other men followed, leaving J.J. to make his call.

  Once they were in the kitchen, she turned to each one to ask, “So what do you think I should do? I love J.J. and I know you all care for him, too, but is this situation going to throw us all under the bus?”

  “I think once J.J. really gets through to them, they’ll leave him alone. I mean, what can they do? Tie him up and drag him back to San Antonio? He’s of age, so that would be kidnapping,” Harm said, in his pragmatic way.

  “Guess we have to wait and see what their reaction is to his call,” Luke said.

  “What would it do to you, Kayla, if things escalated to the point where our polyandry lifestyle was outed?” Lee asked.

  “I’ve been thinking about that. It would probably prove devastating, professionally speaking. I don’t foresee any legal entanglements, since there have been no official marriages, only personal commitments. So no bigamist charges could be brought. But we all know the power of vicious rumors, and once the press gets involved, well, you know how that can turn out. They can slice a life to pieces, especially when a person is more or less in public service, which in a way, I am.

  “But right now, I’m more concerned about J.J. I feel sorry for him. His parents are overbearing tyrants, especially his odious father. Obviously the man is used to getting his way. I think they’re more concerned with what people will say about his dropping out of college and not wanting to be a doctor than they are about what’s best for J.J.”

  “Again, I’m sorry about leaving the door unlocked,” Luke said. “Still, they had no business just walking in like that. Damn brazen of them.”

  “I think Dr. Romero believes he has a right to do whatever he pleases. And that was a gross oversight, Luke, but just don’t let it happen again. Now we’ll just have to wait and see how J.J.’s conversation with them goes.”

  Seeing his crestfallen face, Kayla added, “And by the way, Luke, I’m sorry to have this disruption on your night. As soon as we’ve talked again with J.J., we’ll have our dinner and then we’ll…”

  “Don’t worry about that, Kayla,” Luke interrupted. “Let’s settle this thing first. We have the whole night, hon. I care about J.J., too. None of us wants him to leave. And dammit, this situation is my fault.”

  J.J. appeared behind him, just in time to hear that. He said, “Thanks guys. No, Luke, it isn’t your fault. And I think I’ve got things smoothed over for now. I told my dad that I was never going to be a doctor, that I had never wanted to be one, and would never be qualified to be one no matter how much schooling he forced on me. I’ve been trying for years to get that point across to him, to make him realize that I didn’t inherit his brain cells.

  “I also told him that if he made you fire me and kick me out, I would just go someplace else and they would never know where, that I would not be in touch again, and would leave no forwarding address. That was when my mom got on the phone and asked what I wanted to do. I told her I wanted to do exactly what I was doing now and that I was happy for the first time in a long time. She started crying.”

  J.J. cleared his throat and turned away briefly before facing them again. “Guess all I’ve ever done is make everybody else miserable. Sometimes I think it would’ve been best for everyone if I’d never been born. God, I don’t want to bring any kind of trouble down on you, Kayla, or any of you. So maybe I’d better just go, just do that disappearing act.”

  “No,” the men chorused.

  “I second that,” Kayla said as she reached to pat his face. “Remember, a divorce has to be mutually agreed on, and I do not agree. So you stay. How did you leave the conversation with them?”

  “They agreed to leave me alone for six months, during which time they both said they hoped I would come to my senses. So I have a six-month reprieve to figure out how to keep them off my back. I just don’t want you to be worried, Kayla. I’m so sorry to have brought this trouble down on you.”

  “I’m not worried, J.J. Did you mention that maybe you would consider enrolling in a community college?”

  “I did. My dad hit the roof. Said that was what white trash did and no son of his would ever stoop that low. He said he would rather see me dead than lower myself that way and embarrass him before his colleagues. He’s such a pompous jerk!”

  The men exchanged glances, the one thought obvious—Dr. Romero was worse than a jerk.

  Then Harm said, “Well, we have that six-month reprieve, so let’s not lament it tonight. Let’s have our dinner and relax.”

  “Good idea,” Kayla said, placing a light kiss on J.J’s cheek. “Now put it out of your mind, J.J., and we’ll deal with it later. Are they going back to San Antonio?”

  “Yeah. They said they were leaving in the morning.”

  “Are you going to see them off?”

  “Hell, no.”

  “Maybe you should, just to show them they aren’t calling the shots, that you are mature and can handle your own life and your emotions.”

  “That won’t mean anything to them, Kayla. Especially my dad. I think I’ll just leave it like it is and hope in six months, I can make them understand they won’t ever change my mind. At least by then I’ll be twenty so they can’t repeat the mantra that I’m just an ungrateful, stupid, rebellious teenager.”

  “Well, let’s eat, folks,” Luke urged as he pulled Kayla into an embrace. “I have urgent business to attend to with our wife tonight, and all this serious talk is almost killing both my appetites. Almost, but not quite.”

  They filed into the dining room while Lee went into the kitchen to retrieve their dinner.

  After they had finished eating, Kayla and Luke retired to her bedroom. J.J. helped clean the kitchen while both Luke and Lee kept a running lighthearted conversation going to distract him.

  Once in the bedroom, Luke kissed Kayla passionately and soon both were thinking only of how to satisfy each other.

  CHAPTER 10

  Trey—San Antonio, Texas

  After a twelve-year stint in the Army, thirty-two-year-old Trey Sean Cameron was at loose ends. For two years he just wandered around, taking odd jobs while he decided what he
wanted to do with his life. Although he had gotten a degree in criminal justice while still enlisted, Trey still wasn’t sure what he wanted to do. When he was approached by a representative of McClary, Johnson and Landview, the prestigious investigative firm in San Antonio, Texas, and told he was being recruited because of his excellent military record, he was excited.

  Curious as to how they had managed to find him, since he’d been moving around since his discharge and was, at that time, in San Diego, California, he was told when he broached the question, that they could find anybody because they were that good. Then he was told that the firm hired only the best, and they believed he would be in that category and after a time of mandatory training, would be an asset.

  So after an interview with two of the partners, Joyce McClary and Rob Landview, he had been hired on the spot.

  Amazed at the turn of events just when he had been in a quandary about whether or not to return to New York or settle in California, Trey counted it a stroke of divine intervention.

  He was impressed with the firm’s opulent suite of offices. Although the office assigned to him was far from impressive, it was adequate, and he settled into it thankfully, ready to take whatever assignment they gave him.

  Trey really liked San Antonio with its unique mixture of ancient culture and modern-day beauty. He liked that it was a city in flux, undecided which side—past or present—it wished to cultivate. He particularly liked the Riverwalk area. The first time he strolled there, Trey began to feel as though maybe, now, he could call a place home.

  He had certainly never felt that way in New York, where he’d been born and raised—if you could call it being raised.

  In his formative years, Trey had been shifted from one foster home to another until he’d landed in the last one at age eight and learned unexpected and disturbing lessons that would forever warp his perception of family.

  Trey would sometimes walk San Antonio’s Riverwalk at night, trying to dislodge those memories from his hellacious childhood that still haunted him after all these years. But they remained as persistent as the ripples on that dark water lapping at the stone sides of the small canal, licking at his mind.

  The only other home Trey had ever known was the Army, where he grew to manhood, where he became hardened. It was there, after the battles, the mayhem, and witnessing human suffering far worse than what he had gone through as a youngster, that Trey finally came to grips with the past and himself—at least enough to accept what had happened to him and, in some measure, put it behind him at last. The sympathetic support he had received from an Army chaplain had been the final ingredient in setting him on a path of true healing.

  It took war to finally teach him the validity of the saying one of his buddies who was always spouting the Alcoholics Anonymous Serenity Prayer: “God, grant me the serenity to accept what I cannot change, the courage to change what I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”

  Trey had been with McClary, Johnson and Landview (sometimes referred to simply as M.J. and L.) for nearly five years now, having at last come into his own as an experienced private investigator. But, though the firm was known for its high-profile cases, mostly criminal investigations for top-flight law firms, none of those types of cases had been given him. He had, for the most part, been assigned what he considered fluff cases, and he was beginning to get frustrated.

  Sure, the pay was excellent and the benefits great, but the longer he was with them, the more difficult he found coping with the one glaring hitch that had come to light his second week with the firm. For reasons he didn’t understand, he was always at odds with the partner Gavin Johnson.

  Why fifty-seven-year-old Gavin Johnson, formerly with the CIA, had taken such an intense and instant dislike to him was something Trey couldn’t figure out. He soon came to realize that it was Johnson who kept him off the important cases. He realized the man took every opportunity to put him down, deriding his capabilities, in an obvious effort, Trey decided, to make him look incompetent before the other partners.

  Their silent yet ongoing feud had developed into a constant mental battle between the two of them, and Trey knew it was Johnson’s underhanded way of maneuvering to fire him.

  So far, Johnson’s Machiavellian ploys had served only to Trey’s advantage. Always one to enjoy a challenge, Trey had managed to rise to the occasion each time, not only garnering the praise but the respect from the other two partners, who applauded his ingenuity on the inconsequential cases given him time after time.

  Of course, their approval had only served to further alienate Johnson to the point where now he had dropped all pretense of being civil and was openly hostile. His unshakable attitude had made Trey finally accept the truth—it was a no-win situation with Johnson. No matter how hard he tried to get along with the man, or to do the mediocre cases assigned to him to the best of his ability, Johnson was not satisfied and never would be.

  Given their rocky history, when Johnson summoned him to his private office Wednesday morning, Trey naturally expected the worst.

  “Have a seat, Cameron,” Gavin said brusquely.

  He kept his back to Trey as he stared out the bank of windows, which was what he usually did, and which Trey knew was his way of showing lack of respect. Since he had been with the company, Johnson, unlike the other two partners, had never called him by his first name.

  Trey settled his six-foot-two, muscled frame in the chair opposite Gavin’s expansive oak desk and waited for him to turn around. He pretended he wasn’t in the least concerned with what the man had to say. After all, he’d had five years to perfect his game face before his nemesis.

  When Gavin did face him, he stared at him for a moment in silent intimidation, his cold, brown eyes raking him up and down in obvious contempt before commenting, “It seems, according to my colleagues, that you possess a valuable asset I have yet to see or appreciate.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Rob and Joyce consider your, and here I am quoting them, ‘blatant sex appeal’ to be the invaluable tool needed for this particular assignment. That asset, coupled with the fact that, again according to them, you are good at sizing people up, qualifies you.”

  Trey did not betray his inner thought. Uh-oh, here comes the kicker. He’s handing off some damned assignment he’s sure will finally trip me up.

  Out loud he asked, “When I hear what the assignment is, I might thank them, and I might not.”

  Gavin digested that remark quietly, his eyes still coldly assessing him.

  Trey knew Johnson’s demeanor was supposed to make him squirm, so he remained still and seemingly composed as he waited for him to continue.

  “We have just accepted a new client, who happens, by the way, to be a very good, personal friend of mine. After hearing his problem and after consulting with my partners, we have decided you are the man for the job.”

  A good friend of yours? God help me!

  Johnson waited for Trey to speak. When he didn’t, he continued.

  “Dr. Carlos Javiero Romero and his wife have a serious problem with their only son, and it will be your job to see that the situation comes to a positive conclusion. And when I say positive, I mean to their complete satisfaction, whatever it takes.”

  Another damned fluff job. He’s determined to keep me away from any interesting cases.

  Taking a deep breath to remain calm, Trey asked, “Is the boy on drugs? A runaway? What?”

  “He’s not on drugs, but in a sense, he is a runaway.”

  Trey, for the life of him, couldn’t figure out what his being supposedly sexy and having the ability to size people up had to do with this kind of case, but discarding that question, he asked instead a practical one. “How old is the boy?”

  “Nineteen.”

  “How long has he been missing?”

  “He isn’t exactly missing. They know where he is and actually have spoken with him recently.”

  Trey shrugged. “Then I don’t understand the problem.” />
  “The problem is he’s dropped out of college and has taken a mediocre job as pool boy for a wealthy woman in Nashville, Tennessee, and has refused to either return to college or home.”

  “So? That sounds like a rebellious teenager to me. Thousands of others do that same thing all the time. I don’t see what I’m supposed to do about that. I know I’m good at the power of persuasion, but why would the kid listen to me if he won’t listen to his own parents?”

  “It’s more complicated than that. And as far as his listening to you, don’t flatter yourself. You probably won’t even talk to him at all. If you do the job right, there won’t be a need to. But I’ll let Dr. Romero clue you in on the pertinent details. He’s to meet you in your office at 9:30 to explain how imperative it is that you infiltrate yourself into the situation, nullify it so the boy will have his eyes opened, and agree to return home. Failure will not be an option, Cameron. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Not exactly. What do you mean by ‘nullify’ it? And if he’s nineteen, he isn’t a minor, so he can’t be just brought back without his agreeing. Are you saying you want me to kidnap him and force him back?”

  “That would be illegal, so certainly not,” Johnson snapped. “Like I said, Dr. Romero will explain the extenuating circumstances in what could turn out to be a delicate situation. You, with your particular expertise, can take it from there.”

  He practically spat that last phrase at Trey, emphasizing “particular expertise” as though it gave him a dirty taste in his mouth.

  “Particular expertise, huh? Can we just skip the double talk and say what’s expected of me? What has my supposed sex appeal have to do with this assignment? If you’re saying that the kid is homosexual and you expect me to appeal to his ‘baser’ side to entice him back to San Antonio, you can forget it. That’s something I won’t do, not even to keep my job.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous! Of course J.J. isn’t homosexual. Obviously there is a woman involved who the Romeros believe has some kind of hold on their son. You will hear the details yourself when you meet with Carlos. Or are you saying you refuse this assignment?”