Kane by Jennifer Blake Page A

her,his features so close she could see the spiky length of his lashes, the fine lines at the corners of his eyes from squinting against the intense southern sunlight. His warm breath, faintly scented with mint, ghosted over her lips. Her stomach muscles tightened with a slow, drawing sensation she felt repeated in the lower part of her body.
    â€œI wanted to remind you about my shindig, cuz,” Luke drawled, his voice a shade louder than before. “I’m firing up the usual Memorial Day extravaganza at Chemin-a-Haut and expect my friends and neighbors to gather around. Regina is more than welcome. In fact, I’ll take it as an insult if you don’t bring her.”
    â€œMiss Dalton,” Kane said pointedly, “may not be here.”
    â€œNow that would be a shame. She doesn’t know what she’s missing.”
    â€œChemin-a-Haut?” Regina repeated, her interest snagged by the unfamiliar syllables. At the same time, she snatched her arm free in an abrupt gesture fueled by annoyance and the suspicion that Kane didn’t want her accepting his cousin’s invitation.
    â€œMy humble abode,” Luke said, jerking a thumb toward the house behind them, “French for the High Road—some also say High-handed.” He grinned.
    â€œThis, er, shindig is a party?”
    â€œAn open house, sweetheart. Food and drink, music and dancing.” Luke propped his elbow on the truck’s side mirror. “Also fireworks, comets, shooting stars, flying saucers, heavenly artillery, fireworks to match your hair. It’s expensive and wasteful and damned hard work setting everything up, but everybody loves it, including me. Say you’ll come.”
    Voice laconic, Kane said, “It is something to see.”
    He was waiting for her answer, Regina saw, as was his cousin. It gave her a strange feeling, having them both watch her so closely. For an instant, she couldn’t think why, then she knew. She had their attention, their complete, courteous, almost deferential attention. Unlike most men she dealt with, they weren’t waiting impatiently, tapping their fingers, for her to answer. They weren’t planning what they were going to say next, or thinking of all the other things they needed to be doing, wished they were doing, elsewhere. It was disconcerting. It was also maddening.
    â€œI’m sorry,” she said abruptly as she met Luke’s gaze. “I have no idea if I’ll be here. It all depends on Mr. Crompton.”
    â€œPop Lewis?” Luke asked cheerfully. “Hey, I can fix that.”
    â€œBut you won’t,” Kane said, his voice taking on a hard note.
    â€œWon’t I?” Luke searched his cousin’s face, his humor fading.
    â€œNo point,” Kane said in terse explanation. “The lady will be heading back to New York before the weekend, regardless.”
    â€œShe has something to do with the suit, then?” Luke glanced toward Regina. “Don’t tell me you’re mixed up in that mess?”
    â€œNot at all,” she answered quickly, then compounded the lie by adding, “It’s nothing to do with me.”
    â€œGood girl. You don’t want to get in the way of a man’s obsession.”
    The muscles in Kane’s jaws gathered in a taut knot. “I’m not obsessed.”
    â€œYou do a damned good imitation. Don’t you think so, Regina?”
    It sounded as if the argument was an old one. It might be foolish to comment on something between the two men that she didn’t fully understand, but it was too much to resist. With a faint smile, she said, “He does seem a bit preoccupied with it.”
    Luke shook his head. “We should distract him for his own good. How long did you say you’ll be around?”
    She explained briefly about the Crompton jewelry collection and her afternoon appointment, adding that she would be leaving if everything worked out