The Walls of Jericho

Lure

Drake Kemp the CEO of KDS that I’ve seen in the newspapers, both online and actual paper newspapers, is perhaps mid-forties, impressively robust, and quite good-looking. Not just in the way you expect rich guys to be good-looking either. Sure, he’s always dressed in three-thousand dollar hand-tailored Armani suits and has his own fully-staffed private spa on site in the KDS building. And yeah, he definitely has the self-made, driven man thing working for him. But he’s still the quintessential man in the prime of his life, physiologically as well as in wealth and power, and he was that before he was the Drake Kemp of KDS fame.

In every other regard, he’s a mysterious character, with little known about his origins or his family besides both are somewhere in South Africa. His closed-lipped, highly private, workaholic lifestyle only adds to the mystique surrounding him.

Which makes Drake Kemp the younger, who’s sitting rough on the ground next to me like a homeless vagabond in sand-coated joggers and sheltering from the storm in the overhang of the stairs that descend to the beach, he’s even more of an enigma.

Kind of like Channing, Drake’s a supremely beautiful specimen. He’s built tall and strong, with the lady-killer trifecta of athletic shoulders, a broad chest and a narrow waist, all of which are apparent despite the bulky hoodie he’s wearing.

A smooth complexion the color of black coffee with the faintest hint of cream sets off a pair of strikingly fierce eyes that flash with both intelligence and mirth. They stand out mesmerizingly, almost as if lit from inside, in a yellow-auburn shade that reminds me of a jaguar’s eyes. He’s got a long, narrow nose and thick, full lips around that predatorily sexy mouth and the faint scruff of a carefully-groomed woolly goatee trimmed to accent the angular planes of his handsome face.

The cherry on top of his absolutely smoldering hot chocolate sundae is that he’s approachable and powerfully charming. I feel drawn to him like iron filings to a magnet. Not even with Channing did I feel like that. At least not at first.

“Oh, believe me, Jericho, the pleasure is all mine,” Drake says in that accented sexy rumble as he shakes my hand after I introduce myself.

Maybe ‘charming’ isn’t the right word. I wrap my arms around my knees, hunkering down as much defensively as for warmth. I think the better term for Drake the younger is ‘disarming’.

“Tai-chi on the beach in the morning,” I comment, quickly changing the subject. I watch as the rain settles into a thrumming steady pour, more to keep my head where it belongs than because there’s anything interesting about it. “How Zen-like. Did you descend from on high in the KDS tower to grace us poor peons? Or do you keep a house in Tassler Heights just for giggles too?”

Beside me, Drake laughs. It’s as fierce and vigorous as the rest of him. “I hate my dad’s floors in the KDS tower. They’re mostly for showing off anyway. I’ve got a little place up there in the valley. Moved in a couple weeks ago. No view to speak of, but the trail and beach access makes up for it. My humble opinion, of course. What about you?”

“I’m in the one at the end of the plateau.” I thumb upward towards Tassler house in the direction that I mean. “We’re new to the area too.”

His eyes go wide and the way they dilate, he really does look like a jaguar. “The glass palace at the top of the bluff?” When I nod, he laughs. “From the girl giving me grief over my father’s living arrangements, that’s a smidge hypocritical. Even I couldn’t have afforded that place. What do you do for a living?”

I huff a derisive snort. “For the moment, the most employment I could claim is taking care of my sick—uncle.” SOFie gives me a sour flash that I ignore. “Otherwise, I’m a pampered pet that keeps getting turned down by your company.”

“So you are crazy.” He’s grinning while he says it, poking a little fun. “Anyone wants to work for my dad is out of their mind.”

“You do,” I counter quickly.

“That’s true. I never said we weren’t birds of a feather.” He laughs again. “Probably have a similar problem to yours. I can’t get hired anywhere else carrying the name ‘Kemp’. You can’t get hired because you don’t have any experience, right?”

I bristle immediately, even though what he says—about me at least—is true. The word ‘right’ in Drake’s accent sounds like ‘har-eye-tah’ and I’m tempted to tease him about it. I have bigger fish to fry in this instance. “What makes you think I don’t have any experience?”

“Ooh. Open mouth, insert size thirteen and a half custom Nike,” he says, clearly regretting his approach, but rather smoothly quieting my ruffled composure.

To make sure he knows just how much offense I’ve taken, I add, “Way to go, rookie. Have you ever spoken to a woman before? Besides your mother?”

“Wow!” he laughs, tossing his head back as he does. “Was it seriously that bad? I never saw a woman get so offended about subtly being told she looks young and beautiful.”

He’s grinning broadly when I look over at him, still relaxed and clearly easy-going. His words make my stomach knot with a weird tension—not painful weird, but excited weird. God, this is spinning way out of control.

“What are you some kind of child prodigy or something like that?” he asks, and by his expression, he’s genuinely interested.

I shrug, unconsciously flip my hair and look back out at the rain. “Something like that.”

“Alright.” Drake wraps a large hand around my upper arm as a warm and soothing apology. “I believe you. Maybe I can help you. I’ve got this project my dad dumped on me before he left. Some kind of database installation issue. I can’t find a problem in the code and the notes from the previous program managers aren’t helping.”

Listening to the issues he’s describing, I have a sneaking suspicion I know what his problem project is. Much as I relish adding someone inside KDS to my network, especially someone like Drake the younger, I doubt I’ll be able to help without compromising whatever Damien has put in place to prevent the Heritage database install.

“Here’s what I propose,” he continues. “I’ll pick you up at your place—.”

“That’s not going to work.”

Drake arches a brow. “That ‘we’ you keep mentioning is the possessive type, is he?”

“That’s not any of your business, but not to my knowledge. I don’t intend to give him a reason to be either,” I snap defensively. “It’s because of my uncle. He has dementia. Sometimes he freaks people out.”

“You care for him at home? All by yourself?”

I eyeball him with annoyance. “Mostly. I have some help. What about it? I’m too beautiful to take care of someone else?”

He inhales a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “I’m getting off to a rather rough start. Let me try that again. So, I’m only asking about your uncle because it’s got to be hard. Not physically maybe, but emotionally for certain. I feel for you.”

My brows draw together. Suddenly, Drake isn’t quite as charming as I thought he was. “Feel what? Pity?” I bite out angrily.

“No. No,” he soothes. “Sad. It’s sad to watch people you care about grow old and degenerate. It hurts when they lose who they are. It hurts when they forget who you are and what you mean to each other.”

“You have family with dementia?”

He shakes his head. “Dear family friend. Amazing woman. And yeah, you are beautiful, Jericho. You’re a little spicy sometimes, but mostly sweet. You’re easy to talk to.” He grins, studying my face, then stuns me when he tucks my hair behind my ear. “And I’ve always thought there was nothing prettier than a strawberry blonde.”

I can’t decide if I think he’s flirting, or if he’s just far from home and lonely all by himself here. What do I know about the way people act in South Africa, har-eye-tah? Maybe he’s only being friendly. He is a nice guy—he could be amusing himself watching the stupid American woman standing in the cold rain getting soaked to the bone, but he braved the weather to rescue me instead. I have no reason to believe that his intentions are anything less than honorable.

He withdraws his hand quickly. “Sorry. I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“You aren’t,” I admit, realizing this is a truly strange conversation.

Drake’s raw physical attraction is certainly a powerful s****l lure, but, bizarre as it may initially sound, I think the bigger culprit is that something about a mental state of fear makes some people have feelings

of attraction towards each other. In this case, we’re both inadvertently cashing in on the damsel-in-distress-knight-in-shining-armor circumstance that just played out. Which is a lot like how I wound up with Channing. Still, if there’s going to be any option of spending more time together, I need to put some clear boundaries in place.

“I don’t want to give you the wrong impression.”

“I understand.” Drake gives me a smile, but this one doesn’t touch his eyes. “You’re with someone. He’s a lucky man. I hope it doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.”

Outside the safety of our beachside storm shelter, the rain is starting to let up. “Why don’t I meet you here tomorrow? When you’re done with tai-chi, I’ll go with you and help you with your database problem.”

Drake flashes me that gorgeous smile and nods. “Okay.”