Her Kind of Man. Pamela Yaye

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Her Kind of Man - Pamela Yaye Mills & Boon Kimani

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      Makayla kept her eyes on the book. She wanted to ask the two-timing snake what was so funny, but she bit her tongue. His cocksure attitude made her sick to her stomach. “What do you want, Mr. Blake?” Her tone was brisk and professional.

      “I came to see you.”

      “Is there a problem?”

      “I’d say so. You think I’m an asshole, don’t you?”

      “Yes.” The word slipped from her mouth with ease. Feeling contrite, she dropped her pen and looked up at him. He was even more attractive today, if that was at all possible. In a black leather jacket, turtleneck sweater and jeans, he reminded her of her favorite detective from the hit series New York Undercover. There was a gravity about him, a raw, sexual energy that was so intense, if she wasn’t careful she’d lose the good sense God gave her. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

      “By the way, I like your dress. It hugs your body in all the right places.”

      Makayla folded her hands. It was a good thing there was a desk between them or he would have her hand impression on his right cheek. If there was one thing she hated, it was conceited men who thought they owned the world. And Kenyon Blake was arrogance personified. “I don’t think your wife would appreciate you hitting on me.”

      “I’d better stop teasing you before things get ugly.” Kenyon pulled a chair up to her desk and straddled it. “Veronika and I aren’t married.”

      “Common-law unions are now recognized by the courts.”

      “We don’t live together.”

      She eyed him warily. “Don’t insult my intelligence, Mr. Blake.”

      “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

      “Then what are you saying?”

      “Veronika’s my sister-in-law, not my wife.”

      Makayla searched his face for the truth. His smile was sincere and he sounded convincing. “But last night you said you were having problems at home. I took that to mean you were separated.”

      “My brother was—he was murdered a year and a half ago.” His voice filled with emotion. “Felix loved his family. Terrance and Veronika were his whole world. They’re still having a really hard time dealing with his death. We all are.”

      Makayla grappled with what to say. It had been almost fifteen years since she lost her mother to breast cancer, but the pain never went away. Overcome with sympathy, she said the only thing that came to mind, “I lost my mom years ago and I still miss her. I am so sorry for your loss.”

      Kenyon nodded absently. “I tried to explain, but you blew out of the restaurant so fast, I didn’t get a chance.”

      Makayla wanted to crawl into a hole so deep archaeologists wouldn’t be able to find her. “I had no idea.”

      “I thought you knew. Terrance never mentioned it?”

      Makayla didn’t want to tell Kenyon that every other word out of his nephew’s mouth was a lie, so she said, “Kids talk a lot. Sometimes it’s hard to separate fact from fiction.”

      “You’re right. Terrance and his friends come up with the craziest things.”

      They shared a smile.

      “If you don’t mind my asking, what happened?”

      “Felix was on the Criminal Apprehension Unit. He was shot while trying to arrest a gang member out on parole. It’s still hard to believe he’s gone.”

      Kenyon glanced out the window. Seconds passed before he returned his gaze to Makayla’s face. His eyes were narrowed slightly, and his face was pinched in determination. “I’m going to help Veronika and Terrance get through this. That’s why I want you to call me the next time there’s a problem. Veronika has a lot on her plate right now and she doesn’t need any more added stress. You understand, don’t you?”

      “I do. And I’m sorry I blew up at you. I didn’t mean what I said.”

      Kenyon’s smile resurfaced. “You called me a womanizing jerk.” Clutching a hand to his chest, he used the other to wipe away an imaginary tear. “That hurt. I may be a womanizer, but I’m not a jerk.”

      Makayla laughed. The delicious warmth of his smile alleviated the tension in the room. “Again, I’m deeply sorry.”

      “Apology accepted.” He leaned forward in his chair, his eyes alight with mischief. “What are you going to do to make it up to me?”

      “Excuse me?”

      “I think restitution is in order.”

      “What do you expect me to do? Cook you a five-course meal?”

      His face lit up like the Rockefeller Christmas tree. “Sounds great!”

      “You can’t be serious.”

      “I am.”

      “I don’t date parents.” She was quick to add, “Or relatives.”

      Kenyon opened his mouth, but when he heard his nephew’s voice, he swallowed the flirtatious comeback.

      “I’m hungry, Uncle Kenyon.” Terrance trudged into the classroom, dragging his backpack behind him. “Can we go home now?”

      “Sure, li’l man.” Kenyon rested his hands on his nephew’s shoulders. To Makayla he said, “We’ll continue this discussion another time.”

      Makayla smiled down at Terrance. Learning about his father’s sudden death made her heart soften toward him. She wasn’t going to let him continue to undermine her authority, but it wouldn’t hurt if she relaxed some of the rules for him. “Bye, Terrance. Have a nice weekend. I will see you bright and early on Monday morning.”

      He grumbled in response, and Kenyon rumpled his hair. “Playing on the jungle gym must have tuckered the poor kid out.”

      As she watched them exit the classroom, Makayla wondered just how long she could keep Kenyon at bay. Because one thing she remembered about the former football star was that when it came to the ladies, he didn’t take no for an answer.

      Makayla poured herself a cup of coffee and took a bite of the lemon-filled doughnut she’d treated herself to. Sitting down at the kitchen table, she opened The Philadelphia Blaze to the Real Life section and skimmed the page for her article. Nothing. Brenda had promised her it would be on the front page, though this wasn’t the first time an editor had lied to her.

      “It has to be here somewhere,” she said, ruffling the paper in frustration. But her article wasn’t on page two or three, either. Just as disappointment set in, she found what she was looking for. “How to Unleash Your Inner Vixen” was on the bottom right-hand corner of page six. Okay, so it wasn’t the front page but at least her article had made it into the third largest newspaper in Philadelphia.

      A smile bloomed on her lips. Makayla got

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