[Kate's Boys 02] - The Bride With No Name Read online

  The question threw her. She really wasn’t sure where this was coming from. The words had just materialized on her tongue.

  “I wish to God I knew,” she confessed. Venus squinted her eyes, as if that could help her look into herself. It didn’t. Finding only another dead end, she shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

  He shouldn’t have asked her that. It only aggravated her not to remember, but he’d hoped that a glimmer of a memory had been stirred. Apparently not. “It’ll come back to you,” he promised again.

  He really needed to get going, but something conspired against him in that small foyer, urging him to stay a second longer.

  And then another second after that.

  For all her bravado, Venus’s vulnerability spoke to him. Maybe that was why, just before leaving, he impulsively bent over to kiss her cheek. His intent was just to give her the reassurance of a little gentle human contact. He’d read somewhere that touch offered silent comfort and she needed it.

  He hadn’t counted on her jumpiness.

  Startled, Venus jerked her head. But instead of turning away, she wound up turning her face into his. Which was how it happened.

  One second there was only air in that small space, and the next, her lips were brushing against his. Something seemed to crackle and hiss between them and Venus could have sworn an electrical surge bounded through the atmosphere. Infusing both of them.

  She drew in her breath, knowing she should back away. Quickly. But she didn’t.

  What she did was plant her lips on his in earnest.

  And lose herself inside the kiss.

  Trevor had no idea how this had mushroomed so quickly. Instead of offering comfort, he was taking it. He found himself cupping the back of her head, his fingers brushing against her face as the friendly, almost impersonal kiss morphed into a great deal more.

  It was strong enough to knock his socks off if he hadn’t been wearing shoes.

  Or maybe even then.

  As he went on kissing her, Trevor heard her little moan of pleasure. It vibrated against his lips.

  His own pleasure streaked through him. And though his head spun, he was still acutely aware of everything within his surroundings. He was aware of drawing her closer to him. Aware of the tantalizing way her body touched his, setting the tranquil, cool morning on fire.

  He was aware of deepening the kiss by inches, slowly so that she wouldn’t pull away.

  Most of all, he was aware of wanting to do more than just kiss her.

  He was aware of wanting her.

  Chapter Six

  Venus’s heart stopped—and then started up again, beating wildly. She’d only meant to say thank you, to kiss him fleetingly because she had no other way to express the gratitude she felt.

  She had to admit, she was attracted to him.

  She traveled on instinct alone since every other avenue was closed off to her. But now, as she sank further and further into this kiss, she wanted to express gratitude at this heart-pumping turn of events.

  While she had no way of knowing for certain, she felt as if she’d never been kissed like this before. Because if she had, the sensation would have struck a chord, jarred loose an avalanche of memories. It would have done something other than make her knees buckle.

  Survival instincts made her finally pull her head away.

  “Sorry,” she murmured, taking a step back as she got her bearings. She held on to his forearms for a moment just in case. It took a second for her head to stop spinning and focus. “I didn’t mean to get carried away.”

  Trevor framed her face with his hands, lingering a moment that he really didn’t have. Something rather overwhelming had just happened here.

  “Nothing to be sorry about,” he assured her. “That was very nice, but I’ve really got to go.” There was more than a trace of reluctance in his voice. “But Mom’ll take really good care of you.”

  Venus nodded. She noticed that he went back and forth as to the way he referred to his stepmother. Calling the woman “Mom” instead of “Kate” brought out an even greater degree of warmth in his voice.

  “I’m sure she will.” Venus suddenly seemed shy. Too shy to be the woman who’d kissed him that soulfully. When she raised her eyes to his face, he felt something in his gut tighten again. Hard. “Will I see you again?”

  “Count on it,” he promised. “I never leave a project half-finished or a book half-read.”

  Why did that sound so comforting to her? “Which am I?”

  Trevor looked at her for a long moment, fighting the very real, very strong temptation to kiss her again. “A little bit of both,” he replied.

  He was humming when he left the house.

  Ordinarily, once he walked through the door of his restaurant, the outside world didn’t exist for him. His only contact with it, other than his patrons, occurred when he had to place his orders for supplies.

  But today was different.

  Despite the large crowd he anticipated for lunch and his preparations for the Kellerman anniversary banquet, a three-hour party slotted to end at eight because Myra and Jules Kellerman were both in their late seventies and liked to retire at an early hour, his mind kept going elsewhere. He couldn’t help wondering how Venus was getting along and if, more important, someone had filed a missing-person’s report on her yet.

  Was she, even now, remembering another life? The life that had been temporarily lost to her? Was she being embraced by a husband or significant other who’d been frantic with worry about her?

  No, Kate would have called him. Wouldn’t she?

  Trevor quickly went over a set of instructions with some of his staff, then retreated to call home.

  But the answering machine picked up.

  With an impatient sigh, he shut his cell phone and went back to work. Yet forty-five minutes later had him calling again. With the same results. This time, he called Kate’s cell phone. She didn’t pick up. Frustrated, he left a message.

  He knew he should be rooting for Venus to find her real identity, but a part of him resisted this scenario. The part that’d had its toes curled by her kiss.

  Don’t get carried away, partner. She could be totally out of your reach, he cautioned himself.

  What if she was the married mother of three? What then? Did she become a fantasy he looked back on in the dead of night when he couldn’t sleep?

  Hell, what was the matter with him? Trevor shook his head. Since when did he yearn for a relationship? That wasn’t his thing. Alicia had taught him well. He didn’t have time for a fantasy, let alone a real live woman. His business required every ounce of his concentration, every bit of his time. It was still in the fledgling stage and needed nurturing. Just because the first two years had been profitable didn’t mean that he was in a position to coast. Not yet. Perhaps not ever.

  He called again in twenty-five minutes. This time, he got Kate instead of her voice mail.

  “Hello?”

  Finally. He turned away from the kitchen, giving himself a spoonful of privacy. “Hi, it’s Trevor. Any luck?”

  There was a pause on the other end, as if Kate were trying to connect the dots he’d just scattered before her. “Oh, you mean with finding out who your mermaid is? I’m afraid not.” He heard some traffic sounds in the background. “We’re on our way home from the police station. There’s no missing-person’s report out on her, but it might be too soon.” Her voice shifted and he had a feeling she was saying this for Venus’s benefit as much as his. “Her family might still be trying to find her on their own.”

  “Yeah, maybe.” Or maybe she didn’t have a family, he thought. God help him, the thought made him feel oddly light. “Keep me posted, Mom.”

  “I promise. Oh, and sorry I couldn’t pick up the other times you called. The signal was blocked at the police station for some reason.”

  “How did you know I called?” He’d only left one message.

  “Recent call menu,” she answered. Nothing stayed privat
e anymore, he thought. “Oh, and, Trevor?”

  He forced himself to focus. “Yes?”

  “I think she’s a really nice girl,” Kate told him warmly.

  About to say something to deflect whatever assumptions his stepmother made—and he was fairly certain he knew their nature—Trevor reconsidered.

  “Yeah, me, too.” There was a crash behind him. Trevor sighed. He didn’t have to turn around to know what had just happened. They were right. Good workers were hard to find. “Gotta go. The new salad girl the temp agency sent over doesn’t realize that she’s supposed to hang on to the dishes, not watch them slide off her tray.”

  Kate laughed and wished him luck before ending the call.

  The day seemed three times as long as usual. And within that time frame, anything that could go wrong, did. An order of shellfish somehow suddenly turned into thirty pounds of salmon. He had his second-best man drive over to a fish market to pick up the required shrimp and lobster.

  For a while, it was touch and go, but he managed to come through, and by the time the Kellerman banquet was set to begin, everything was in its place down to the white roses woven into the centerpieces on each table. The affair was such a success that Alice Kellerman Wayne sought him out not once but twice to rave about the dinner.

  To Trevor that was always the best part, hearing—and seeing—that he had once again pleased his customers by tantalizing their taste buds. It kept him burning the midnight oil, searching for new ways to improve on tried-and-true recipes and make them his own.

  Eventually, the banquet was over and the last of the Kellermans had left the restaurant. The senior Mrs. Kellerman’s kiss of thanks was still fresh on Trevor’s cheek and warming his heart.

  “Nice job, boss,” Emilio Juarez, his right-hand man, complimented, coming up to him in the kitchen just as Trevor returned from the reservations desk. “I don’t know how you pulled it off, but you did. As always. They looked really happy. I’ve got a feeling we’re going to be seeing more business than we can handle once they start telling their friends what a great spread you put out.”

  Trevor smiled. “Think so?”

  “I’d put money on it—if I were a betting man,” Emilio qualified quickly.

  “Which you’re not,” Trevor said, tongue in cheek. Emilio’s betting had been a problem for a while, but was now a thing of the past.

  “Which I’m not,” Emilio answered, raising one hand in a solemn oath. “I gave that stuff up, remember?”

  Trevor nodded. He looked at the man, thinking. Emilio was his first in command, his assistant chef. They’d met at the last restaurant that he’d worked in before opening up his own. Emilio struck him as hardworking, quick to learn and a very happy man to have around. Preparing to go off on his own, he’d made Emilio an offer, saying that initially, the pay wasn’t going to be as good as what he’d been earning. But he had a chance to get in on the ground floor and once Kate’s Kitchen took off, as he was confident it would, then Emilio would be in a very good position. He’d flourish as Kate’s Kitchen did.

  Left unsaid was the fact that a large preponderance of restaurants closed their doors in less than two years from their starting dates. And Emilio ran the risk of failure. The taint of that tended to stay for a while.

  Nonetheless Emilio never hesitated.

  “Then we’re just going to have to make sure it doesn’t fail” was his answer. And it was then that Trevor knew he had picked the right man for the job.

  He beckoned his assistant over now. “Emilio, close up for me tonight.”

  Emilio stared at him as if he’d suddenly lapsed into a foreign language. “Close up?” he echoed.

  “Yes.”

  Emilio still didn’t seem to comprehend what was said. “The restaurant?”

  Taking out one of the discarded boxes, Trevor repeated, “Yes.”

  “‘Close up’ close up?” Emilio repeated. He followed Trevor to one of the preparation tables. “Like, tell everyone to go home and then lock the door?”

  “Let them finish eating first,” Trevor commented dryly. Lining the bottom of the box with wax paper, he paused for a moment to address his first assistant. “What’s the matter with you? Don’t you know how to close up?”

  Emilio spread his hands wide. “Sure, but you never let me do it before.”

  Trevor began putting wedge after wedge of lasagna into the box. “Sure I did.”

  “No, you didn’t,” Emilio contradicted. “You’re always the last one to go home. Every night,” he emphasized. “Eduardo, the bus boy, is convinced you sleep in the refrigerator.”

  Trevor began putting a second layer on top of the first, separating them with the wax paper. “Tell him I only do that on Tuesdays.”

  Emilio watched him throw together five very large servings of the Italian dish that had become such a favorite with the customers.

  “That’s some doggie bag you’re putting together,” he commented.

  Trevor shrugged, trying to make it sound as if this was just business as usual. “I’d thought I’d stop by my parents’ house.”

  Emilio nodded. His expression grew more thoughtful and concerned. “Anything wrong, boss? With your folks, I mean? You don’t usually bring them food.”

  Trevor shook his head. “No, nothing’s wrong. I just thought I’d stop by.” Boy, that sounded lame, even to his ears.

  Emilio eyed the filled cardboard box. “Lot of food for three people.”

  Trevor debated throwing in a few extra servings and decided to err on the side of caution. Better to have too much than too little. Another foil-wrapped serving joined the others.

  “My sister’ll probably be home, as well.”

  “Girls that age don’t admit to eating food. I’ve got five sisters. Trust me, I know.”

  “Thanks for the advice.”

  “Tell your folks hi for me. And say it to anyone else, too.”

  Trevor paused. “Look, if you’d rather not close up—”

  Emilio quickly cut him off. “Don’t worry about a thing. I know where everything goes. Including you tonight. Have a good night, boss.” Emilio put the lid on the box and handed it to his boss. “And try not to worry.”

  “I wasn’t,” Trevor told him, taking the heavy box. It was warm to the touch. “Until now.”

  “Then don’t.” Emilio opened the back door for him. “Viva con Dios.”

  He understood the Spanish that was the native tongue of some of his staff, but he didn’t trust his accent. Like as not, he mangled the words, so instead, he just murmured, “Yeah, you, too.”

  When he walked in later that evening, Kate met him at the door. The smile on her face was inviting and teasing at the same time. “Well, this is a surprise. I didn’t think, after six calls, you’d swing by here, too.”

  “Five,” he corrected.

  Kate took the box from him, handing it off to Bryan. “Seven, but who’s counting?” she asked cheerfully. And then Kate winked. “She’s in the family room, helping Kelsey study.”

  Trevor was instantly alert. “She remembered something?”

  “How to read. She’s helping Kelsey run her lines for the play.”

  He made his way to the family room, then stood just short of the doorway, listening. Outgoing to a fault, Kelsey had had her hand up for every audition since kindergarten. With deliberate dedication, she’d practiced doggedly at perfecting her talent. Over the years, she’d worked her way up from second flower on the right to Dulcinea, the female lead in Man of La Mancha, the musical that UCI was putting on this winter.

  From the sound of it, his sister had given Venus the part of the misguided Don Quixote. He’d expected something flat and possibly self-conscious coming from Venus. Instead what he heard was confidence, enthusiasm and an extremely pleasant singing voice. He found himself utterly captivated. When Kelsey arrived at a dramatic pause that signaled the end of the scene, Trevor clapped, directing most of the applause toward Venus.

  When Venus swung a
round, surprised at being observed, her cheeks instantly turned to a bright pink hue.

  In contrast, Kelsey beamed in response to the applause. His sister took a little mock bow. “Thank you, thank you, I’ll be signing autographs in the lobby during intermission.”

  “The applause was for Venus, Short-stuff,” Trevor said, coming into the room. He smiled broadly at the woman with the bright pink cheeks. “She was very good,” he continued. “You, you were…” He waffled his hand back and forth to indicate a lukewarm reaction to his sister’s performance.

  “Just for that—” Kelsey bopped him on the head with her rolled-up script “—I won’t mention you when I collect my Oscar.” And then she turned toward Venus. “Thanks, that really helped a lot.”

  Venus carefully closed the script and placed it back on the coffee table where Kelsey kept it. “I’m glad to do it.”

  “Don’t say that,” Trevor warned as Venus crossed to him. “You give my sister an inch and she builds a condo on it.”

  Kelsey sniffed and turned up her nose at him. “Just because you’re mean to me doesn’t mean everyone else has to be.”

  “Trevor brought dinner,” Kate announced, peeking into the room after having put out five place settings on the kitchen table. “Anyone interested in having their taste buds seduced, come to the kitchen.”

  Kelsey was already out the door. Venus fell into place beside Trevor and they walked out together. “Sounds too good to pass up,” Venus commented, remembering the meal he’d served her last night.

  Trevor banked down the temptation of moving off to the side to have her exclusively to himself. “So, how’s it going?”

  “Well, nobody missed me if that’s what you mean.” The words were accompanied by a small sigh.

  Though he’d asked, he already had the information, thanks to his calls to Kate. He pretended it was news to him. “Maybe whoever the people in your other life are, they don’t know you’re missing.”

  She laughed dryly. “Can’t have left much of an impression on them, then.”

  In his opinion, a person would have had to have been dead for a week not react to Venus. But he could see that Kelsey was not-so-covertly watching them, so he kept the remark to himself. The last thing he wanted was for Kelsey to embarrass Venus.