Wicked Garden Page 2

  “I don’t want an apology. But we weren’t exactly discreet. Anyone might’ve walked in.” She sent a nervous glance over her shoulder. “I’ve worked to build a decent reputation—”

  “I know.” He cupped her chin, urging her to look at him. “I’d never do anything to jeopardize your reputation. Doesn’t change the fact I want you. Damn, do I want you, Eden. In every way imaginable.”

  Her insides seemed to liquefy, sending a hot trickle of excitement between her legs. “Me too. But I don’t want anyone to think I slept with you in order to assure Feather Light won’t recommend closing the center to the city council.”

  Billy froze. Then he spun on his dress shoe and crossed the concrete floor halfway before pacing back. “No offense, but nothing you could do with that luscious mouth or your incredible body would affect the outcome of this survey.”

  “But?”

  “But when we’re alone can we put the business aside?”

  Here was her chance to close that chapter of her life. Might be reckless, but she deserved Billy Buchanan’s undivided sexual attention, if only temporarily. “How long will you be in town?”

  “A week.” He watched her smooth her hair, straighten her skirt and adjust her blouse. “You busy after work tonight?”

  “Yes.”

  “How about tomorrow night?”

  “No,” she admitted.

  He gave her a wolfish smile. “You are now.”

  Later that afternoon Billy stretched out on the tan buffalo skin sofa in Jim White Feather’s office.

  He scanned the bold color scheme of Jim’s extensive collection of Native American art, artifacts and photographs. The room whispered power, but exuded warmth.

  A row of pictures lined a rustic pine bookshelf. Jim and his wife Cindy had taken the “go forth and multiply” suggestion quite literally.

  Jim set the phone down. “What are you grinnin’ at?”

  “The White Feather bunch.” Billy faced him, surprised by the gray streaks in Jim’s long black braid. “Is eight really enough to fill your house with love?”

  “Shee. Eight is plenty, especially with one in high school and one in diapers. Our life is never dull. Which brings me to the question of the day: how did your meeting go with the always entertaining Eden LaCroix?”

  “You might’ve warned me she’s adamantly opposed to building a new community center.”

  “Gave you a rough time, did she?”

  An image of Eden’s mouth, ripe from his forceful kisses flitted through Billy’s mind. “Ah, no more than I deserved.”

  “Our Eden certainly is a firecracker.”

  “Our Eden?” he repeated.

  “Eden is tanka, practically my little sister. She and Cindy and Jon have palled around for years.”

  “Then why didn’t you handle this project?”

  “For that very reason. Look, I wasn’t thrilled when Bob took this assignment. In fact, I told him I wanted nothin’ to do with it because I agree with Eden’s position the community center needs to remain in its present location. That’s why I brought you in on Bob’s suggestion, for an unbiased assessment.”

  Billy realized this was his chance to tell Jim he wasn’t exactly impartial where Eden was concerned. But the damning words stuck in his throat. “Don’t you think your opinion might affect the outcome of my recommendation?”

  “I hope so.” Jim shifted his enormous frame back over the desk. “Bob has absolute confidence in your ability to make the best financial decision for the client.”

  “You don’t?”

  “Like you said, I’m biased. The bottom line is different in this case. Eden is the best thing that’s happened to the community center since Grace Fitzgerald left. So far the city hasn’t offered her the executive position if the center relocates. She’ll probably hafta leave town to find a similar payin’ position. I don’t want that on my conscience.”

  “So you’re putting it on mine.”

  “That’s why I agreed to hire you on a temporary basis. You’ve got nothin’ at stake.”

  Wrong. Billy stood, pacing to the windows where pine-covered hills stretched in a sea of greenish-black.

  His life had been in chaos since he’d finished his last job, one spent damn near in solitary confinement in Canada. Sure, he’d made more money in one year than in the last five, but his restlessness remained after the checks sat unspent in his bank account.

  After the stint in Calgary, he realized cash had to stop being the sole factor in his decision-making. He’d wrestled with the idea of tendering his resignation to the Chicago firm, amidst visions of a slower paced life, when he’d received the frantic call about Bob’s heart attack. Billy was using his vacation not only to help an old friend, but to make some tough decisions regarding his future.

  And his future looked endlessly bleak. On the outside it might seem he had it all—a high-rise condo, a high paying job in a prestigious company, but on the inside, he realized none of that surface stuff mattered.

  At thirty-two he was damn tired of being alone. Looking again at the happy pictures in Jim’s office, Billy recognized not only did his sleek black, white and chrome office in Chicago seem drab in comparison, his life was pretty colorless too.

  “You okay?” Jim asked.

  “Fine. I’ll keep you updated. Speaking of updates…how is Bob?”

  “Better. Mostly he’s scared. Betty says he might finally consider partial retirement.” Jim’s black eyebrows pulled together. “I don’t even want to think about that.”

  “He’s what? Sixty-seven? Didn’t you consider the possibility he might not want to work forever?”

  “Things’ve been so hectic we haven’t had time to consider another partner. And now Bob’s heart attack put us even further behind.”

  “What else can I do? I’m here, you’re paying me.”

  Jim gestured to the stack of folders on the corner of the desk. “Take your pick. Pretty simple projects, especially for a big city hotshot like you,” he grinned, “but I’d appreciate you takin’ a look.”

  “I’ll get to it right away.”

  “Oh, and I’m givin’ you a heads up my brother Jon’ll be around the condo sometime in the next couple of days. He’s between tour dates.”

  Tour dates? Billy frowned before he remembered Jim’s brother played in an up-and-coming rock band, which mixed traditional Lakota Sioux Indian folk music with ear-splitting electric guitar and drums.

  “Maybe you oughta take him along next time you talk to Eden.”

  “Why? Think Jon can work some musical Indian magic on her?”

  “He’s been tryin’. Hell, he’s succeeded. Eden goes out with him whenever he’s in town.” Jim sighed. “I keep hopin’ my little bro’ will wise up, marry her and settle down, because she is perfect for him. But they’re both just satisfied with hookin’ up.”

  Hooking up. A surge of jealousy rolled through him. “With the hordes of gorgeous female fans throwing themselves at Jon on a nightly basis? I don’t see the Indian rock star settling down, even with a woman as enticing as Eden.”

  “Enticing?” Jim repeated.

  The secretary buzzing Jim’s intercom allowed Billy an easy out. He snagged the folders and left before he said something else he’d regret.

  Chapter Three

  Eden greeted her charges by name during the influx of after-school kids. The hallways teemed as they raced to the gym, a hotbed of basketball games, tumbling and jump rope classes. Her grin was as wide as theirs. This was her favorite part of the day.

  She ditched her heels and played a quick round of Double Dutch, then headed to the kitchen to help serve snacks. After checking on the latest arts and craft project, she verified the volunteer list for the homework help room. Tempting to blow off her remaining paperwork and immerse herself in the enthusiasm bouncing off the walls, but part of her job was to teach responsibility and shirking hers wouldn’t set a good example.

  In her office, Eden immediately spie
d the young Sioux boy sprawled in the chair across from her desk. She risked an indulgent smile. “Thomas!”

  “What do you want done today? ’Cause they’re lettin’ me play forward later.”

  “Didn’t see you in the cafeteria. Did you get a snack?”

  He angled his Denver Nuggets baseball cap toward the carpet. His unlaced high-top tennis shoes swung beneath the chair. “Not hungry.”

  Thomas had more pride than the average twelve-year old. But pride didn’t fill hungry, growing bellies. She unwrapped the Rice Krispie treat and set it on the edge of her desk.

  “Too bad. My eyes were bigger than my stomach.”

  “S’pose I could eat it.” He ate with a delicacy that belied his age and gender. “What’m I doin’ today?”

  Eden pointed to the cardboard boxes on the floor. “Those are the monthly newsletters from the last four years. I want them filed chronologically.”

  Panic flared in his brown eyes. “Chrono-what?”

  “Chronologically. In order of date, January 1999, February 1999, and so on.”

  “Do I hafta read them?”

  “Not all the way through, just enough to put them in the correct order.” Thomas had let it slip he lagged behind his classmates in school. Despite his grumbling, she’d decided to challenge his mind, hoping he’d recognize mental aptitude was as important as physical skills.

  “Can we at least listen to some music? Like KILI?”

  KILI FM was a Native American radio station that played an odd assortment from Powwow music to rap. “Sounds good.”

  “Cool.” He flopped on the floor behind the chair, dumping the box contents into a messy pile.

  Eden turned the boom box on low and sorted through her own stacks. The rhythmic chanting and steady beat of the tom-tom drums made soothing background noise. The music reminded her Jon White Feather, a.k.a. Johnny Feather, a drummer/singer with the Lakota musical group, Sapa, was due to roll back into town soon.

  Jon personified rock star: long black hair, tribal tattoos, all buffalo-leather clothes and warrior attitude. He was a smokin’ hot, sweet-talkin’ Indian who could charm the panties off any woman—and probably had, but Eden didn’t care. They had a great time together.

  With her, Jon could just be Jon, her old college buddy, not Johnny, heartthrob to the Indian nation. With him, she could be Eden, the wicked temptress, not Eden the buttoned-up community center director. Sex was off-the-charts phenomenal between them because neither one pretended it was anything more than two old friends acting on mutual lust.

  Would sex with Billy be that explosive?

  Not helping you concentrate, Eden.

  Twenty minutes later she hit the total button on the calculator and frowned.

  “How is it possible you look beautiful even wearing a scowl?”

  Billy’s gravelly voice brought color to her cheeks. She glanced up—his crotch was eye-level again—and saw he wore thigh-hugging faded jeans rather than suit pants.

  A boyish snort sounded from behind the chair. Thomas leapt to his feet. “Man, that was so lame.”

  “Thomas. Be nice.”

  Billy thrust his hand out. “Billy Buchanan.”

  Grudgingly Thomas accepted the proffered hand. “Thomas Fast Wolf. Billy, huh? Another guy by the name of Billy, Billy Mills, came here last year and talked to us. Ever heard of him?” Thomas recited Billy Mills’s feats of Olympic glory, while Eden stood by with her mouth hanging open. The kid did pay attention.

  “I’m not much of a track and field fan, but I do like the occasional basketball game.” Billy regarded Thomas’s hat. “The Nuggets aren’t as good as the Bulls.”

  Thomas snorted. “The Bulls are a has-been team.”

  “Better than a wanna-be team.”

  “Enough.” Eden directed her attention to Thomas. “If you’re finished sorting, scoot. I don’t want you to miss a minute of your game. I’ll see you same time next week.”

  “Aren’t you comin’ down to watch me?”

  His tone was shy of pleading. Thomas, no stranger to disappointment, rarely asked anything of her. “Absolutely.”

  He treated Eden to a broad smile, but gave Billy a skeptical once-over. “So Mr. Bulls fan, you oughta come down and see how real basketball is played. Some of the guys in junior high are bigger than you. Bet you’d get your butt kicked.”

  “Thomas!”

  But Billy merely shrugged. “Good thing I wore my butt-kickin’ shoes. I’ll be there after I have a word with Ms. LaCroix.” After the door closed, he said, “Interesting kid. What’s he doing in the office when he’d rather be wreaking havoc in the gym? Working off some sort of punishment?”

  “No. A trade.” She fixed her gaze on the calculator keys. “Thomas helps me out once a week, no big deal.”

  Silence stretched, long and snaky as the calculator tape.

  “You’re paying his club fees and letting him work it off in here?”

  Why bother denying it? “Yes. That way he doesn’t feel he’s a charity case. It keeps him out of trouble.”

  “How many fees are you paying out of your own pocket?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Thomas is basically a good kid. But that’d change in a heartbeat if he didn’t have anywhere to go after school. His family situation isn’t the best. Sometimes he sneaks in here at night to avoid a beating. I’ve tried to tell him how dangerous that is but he doesn’t listen and I shudder to think what’d happen to him if the center closed.”

  Eden squeezed her eyelids shut, remembering Thomas’s resentful look turning hopeful when she’d offered him the trade. Having Thomas around was a constant reminder of how far she’d come. One person could make a difference in the lives of kids who had so little. “This place is everything to him.”

  Gentle fingers touched her cheek. Her eyes opened to see Billy standing within kissing distance. “Seems this place is everything to you too,” he murmured, stroking the vulnerable skin by her ear.

  She stepped away from his tempting touch. “Not here.”

  Billy’s eyes clouded to murky gray. “If I had my way I’d close the blinds, lock the door, throw you across the desk and fuck you until neither of us could walk out.”

  The fire in his gaze rushed over her in blast of heat.

  “If I’d had my way yesterday, I would’ve hiked up your skirt, spread your legs wide, bent you over that duct in the basement and pounded into you until you came, screaming my name.”

  Eden clenched her legs together to stave off the tremors.

  “Surprised?”

  “Not by the visual. But I was surprised you weren’t here earlier today.”

  “I was. The janitor let me in at six o’clock. I hung around until nine, videotaped some footage.”

  She frowned. “You should’ve told me yesterday you planned on checking out the building at the crack of dawn.”

  “Why does that matter?”

  “Because I’d have made a point to be here to answer any of your questions.”

  “Or to try to steer me away from areas you don’t want me to see?” he countered.

  “Not true. I didn’t deny you access to any area yesterday, and you damn well know it.” Eden folded her arms over her chest. “I just don’t like the idea of you sneaking around unsupervised.”

  “Need I remind you, you aren’t my client and I don’t answer to you?”

  “As administrator of this facility, I expect you to give me advance notice on when you plan to be on site.”

  “Keeping tabs on me?”

  “No. Like every other person who walks through those doors, when you’re here, you’re my responsibility. And if something should happen—”

  “—like if a chunk of that water-damaged plaster ceiling on the