Revenge Best Served Hot

by Jackie Braun

  Beside her, Brody straightened in his seat. From the corner of her eye she watched a muscle work in his jaw before his mouth relaxed into a smile. He was no longer looking at Kate. His focus was on his sisters, and he was visibly moved as he raised his glass and tapped it to theirs.

  “Thank you, girls. I wouldn’t be where I am without you. You’ve kept me grounded, had my back. We’ve always been in this together.”

  She’d never expected to see him look as modest and achingly human as he appeared right now. It was like seeing Batman without his utility belt. Spider-Man without his mask. Even though she knew his age, it struck her just how young he really was. As such, his rise to power was indeed an achievement. And she couldn’t help wondering, what drove him? Money? No. Or at least not entirely. In his office earlier, he’d said he had a purpose for the profits he stood to make. Something personal was driving him. Whatever it was, that was the key to figuring out what made Brody Flynn tick. She was sure of it.

  With men such as Collin, she didn’t need to wonder. They craved power. For them, success was measured in money and prestige. In how many lives they could impact, manipulate, and control. They saw the women in their lives—whether wives, girlfriends, sisters, or daughters—as accessories rather than assets. Here, however, Brody and his siblings were…

  “The Three Musketeers.” Jessie grinned as she said it.

  “Peas in a pod,” Jenna supplied.

  “More like Larry, Moe, and Curly.” Brody’s eyes lit with amusement.

  It was clear these were terms they’d used to characterize their relationship in the past. Kate lifted her glass and offered her own toast.

  “Congratulations, Brody, for knowing what’s really important in life.”

  His gaze was questioning, as if he wasn’t quite sure of her sincerity. But Kate was sincere. She pushed aside her skepticism and concentrated on what she knew to be true. From the past week of working with the man, she’d found him to be fair, open-minded. For that alone, he’d earned her respect. Respect, however, wasn’t the only emotion in play when his lips tugged into a smile that softened the hard planes of his face. The man was too handsome for her peace of mind. Heat riddled with need curled low in her belly, especially when she recalled their kiss. And for that reason she found herself grateful for their pair of chatty chaperones.

  Their meals arrived and talk turned from business to matters more personal and pedestrian. Kate found herself relaxing, enjoying herself. Through the ensuing conversations, she was granted an interesting peek into Flynn family life. The sisters were getting ready to head back to college shortly. Jessie would be starting her sophomore year at New York University. It came as little surprise to learn she was studying cinematic arts. Drama was a good fit for the extroverted young woman. She oozed confidence, although she clearly looked to Brody for advice.

  Jenna was older, although smaller and far more careful with her words. She was the culinary art student he’d told Kate about. Realizing how quiet she’d been for most of the meal, Kate decided to ask the young woman a little about her training.

  “I understand you’re studying to become a chef.”

  “That’s right. I love puttering in the kitchen.”

  “You and Kate have that in common,” Brody said. “I think you’d like her kitchen,” he told Jenna.

  “You’ve been in Kate’s kitchen? Do tell,” Jessie said, trading a cunning look with her sister.

  “I had car trouble last week, and your brother was kind enough to give me a lift home, so I asked him in for a glass of wine.”

  Her attempt to clarify matters failed to do the trick. If anything, it made a murky mess of things and invited further speculation.

  “A glass of wine, hmm?” Jessie grinned. “Is that what they’re calling it these days?”

  “Knock it off,” Brody said, but without too much heat. “You’re making Kate uncomfortable.”

  “No,” she lied. “I know they’re just teasing. It’s not as though something happened between us. At my house. Before you left.”

  She’d meant to put him in the hot seat, but she felt heat creep into her cheeks as his gaze held hers and one dark brow inched up in challenge. “That wasn’t something, Kate. It was something else.”

  She should have known that Brody Flynn was not the sort of man who would retreat from a dare.

  Jessie whistled between her teeth. “Ooh! Spill the deets, Kate. It’s not like we’re going to get anything else out of Brody. He’s too tight-lipped when it comes to the women in his life. Not that there have been any lately.”

  “I need to use the restroom,” Jenna said and rose abruptly to her feet. “Jess, you coming?”

  “Nah. I don’t need to go.”

  “Yes, you do.” Jenna didn’t wait for her obtuse sister to reply a second time. She grabbed her by the arm and unceremoniously hauled her out of her seat.

  “All right. Jeez!” she muttered as Jenna was led away.

  “They’re about as subtle as foghorns,” Brody said. A rumble of laughter followed his words and dispelled the lingering tension.

  “They’re sweet. The way you are together, it’s…it’s special. I’m glad I got a chance to see you like this.”

  “Like what, exactly?” His tone was wary.

  “If I say vulnerable, will you take it the wrong way?”

  He sipped his wine as if in consideration, but then totally threw her off balance by saying, “If I tell you I like your hair better down, skimming around your shoulders like it is right now, will you take that the wrong way?”

  And she’d thought him vulnerable.

  “Are you flirting with me?” Kate asked.

  “Does it make you uncomfortable?”

  It did, but not in the way he meant. “We aren’t at the office, and we’re unattached adults.”

  “In our thirties,” he added with a smile.

  “I have no problem being thirty.”

  “I have no problem with your being thirty, either.”

  She laughed and shook her head. “So, what happens outside the office stays outside the office.”

  “And what is it you think will happen, Kate?” His gaze tangled with hers, his expression changing from teasing to serious.

  God, it was hot in here, and she was playing with fire. Well, hell, what was one more match? “Do you mean think or hope?”

  “This is insane,” it sounded like he muttered. But Kate couldn’t be sure, since a very tipsy singer had taken the nearby stage. As the young woman began belting out a show tune—and missing far more notes than she hit—Brody’s sisters returned.

  “I hope you’re done talking about whatever it was that Jenna claimed you needed to discuss in private,” Jessie griped, nearly shouting to be heard over the singer. “I didn’t come to the Calico Club to hang out in the ladies’ bathroom, even if it does sell these cute little samples of perfume in a machine on the wall.” She shoved her wrist under Brody’s nose. “What do you think?”

  “I like it. A lot.” For some reason his gaze slid to Kate as he said it.

  She was still wondering why when Jessie rose halfway from her seat so she could let Kate have a sniff. “It’s called—”

  “Enigma,” Kate supplied.

  “That’s right.” Jessie frowned at her. “How did you know?”

  Brody answered for her. “Because it’s the fragrance Kate wears.”

  Their gazes met, held.

  Jessie sighed heavily. “Do we need to go to the bathroom again?”

  …

  It was nearly ten o’clock when Brody pulled into the vacant space next to Kate’s classic convertible. He never would have believed he’d feel this way, but he was sorry to see the evening coming to an end. As wary as he’d been at the beginning, he’d had a surprisingly good time. He and Kate might have grown up in vastly different social circles, but she was remarkably down-to-earth. After a few awkward moments at the start of the evening, she’d relaxed, opened up, adding as much to
the conversation as she took away. Not only had she taken his sisters’ good-natured grilling in stride, at one point she’d even made a Three Stooges reference that left Brody to wonder if she’d actually watched an episode. Such crude physical humor wasn’t for everyone. Certainly he wouldn’t have thought it would appeal to Kate, but then he, like so many other people, was guilty of judging her based on her flawless looks and family ties.

  The SUV was unnaturally quiet without his sisters chattering away in the backseat. They’d conveniently bailed on him after dinner, coming up with an excuse that a mutual friend who attended Loyola wanted to show them her new apartment in the city.

  He smelled a setup and would have called them on it had Kate not been sitting at the table. He’d put them in a cab outside the restaurant with explicit instructions to go directly to Becca Fields’s loft and then take a cab home, arriving no later than their midnight curfew. They’d complained, of course. They always complained about their curfew, arguing that none of their college-aged friends’ social lives were similarly hamstrung. Tonight was no different. Nor had Brody’s response been.

  “My house. My rules,” he’d told them simply and caught the glimmer of amusement in Kate’s eyes. No doubt she was recalling his “my sandbox, my rules” comment from the week before.

  Now, seated in the close confines of the SUV, the earlier awkwardness returned, accompanied by awareness. He wanted to blame his sisters for their obvious attempts to turn Kate into his date, but it went beyond that, he knew. It had from the beginning. The attraction he could deal with. As well as their earlier charged banter. It was the connection he felt that gave him pause.

  The lights in the parking garage cast the concrete structure in an eerie yellow glow as she unbuckled her seat belt.

  “I’m glad you came with us.”

  “I am, too. This turned out to be a happier birthday than I thought it would be.” She hesitated a moment before adding, “Only one thing would have made it better.”

  Back to that. The one thing that would always be between them.

  “Kate—”

  “I wanted to hear you sing.”

  “What?”

  “I thought your sisters had you when they went to the host with their requests.”

  “No one can make me do something I don’t want to do.”

  Kate shrugged. “Still, I would have liked to hear your rendition of ‘Unforgettable.’”

  “My voice is okay. But I excel in other areas.”

  Brody turned and rested his hand on the back of her bucket seat. The console was between them, a much smaller gap to span than the gulf in their backgrounds. When he leaned in her direction, she didn’t pull away. No, her gaze remained steady on his, making it clear that if he tried to kiss her, she wouldn’t resist. No backing down for Kate. She was the kind of woman who held her ground, regardless of the consequences. It was one of the things he liked about her. And one of the things he resented, since pragmatism as well as his legendary control seemed in short supply whenever he found himself alone with her.

  “Are you going to kiss me?”

  Her bluntly worded question shattered the silence, taking with it some of the tension. They were back to flirting, and he was relieved. “Yeah, I’m thinking about it.”

  “Really? I seem to recall you telling me it wouldn’t happen again.”

  “I did.” And it had been an easy promise to make beforehand. His gaze was locked on her mouth, his memory pulling up the details of their previous interlude.

  “And here I thought you were a man of your word.” Laughter and interest were both evident in her voice, making it impossible to take offense.

  “I have one promise I can make you, Kate.” He reached for her hair, coiled some of it around his hand, and used it to pull her toward him.

  “What’s that?” she whispered breathlessly. Not so cocky now.

  “You’re going to enjoy this.”

  Breaching what remained of the space between them, he covered her lips with his. When his tongue slid into her mouth, the sparks Brody recalled from before began to fly once again, lighting him up on the inside like a Fourth of July display.

  God help him. What was it about this woman that could turn him into an inferno of raging hormones with something as basic as a kiss?

  Except that nothing about this kiss was run-of-the-mill, especially when she lifted halfway out of her seat and pulled back just long enough to correct him.

  “We’re going to enjoy this, Brody.”

  What little control he had left snapped like a rubber band that had been stretched way too far. He untangled his fingers from her hair. He had another use for his hands in mind. He started at the underside of her jaw, traced a small pattern down her neck, which he followed with his mouth. When he reached the gauzy fabric of her top, he pushed it off her shoulder along with the strap of her bra.

  Her skin was petal soft and pale in the low light. He could feel the beat of her pulse as it pounded just below the surface. When he nipped gently with his teeth, her pulse picked up speed. She arched toward him, the move seeming instinctual rather than calculated. He felt as much as he heard her sigh.

  “Come here,” he murmured.

  “Where?”

  “On top of me.”

  With a groan, she complied, albeit awkwardly. Getting over the console proved a bit of a challenge, and she wound up clocking him in the chin with her elbow before she was able to straddle his lap. Her skirt puddled around his hips and thighs. He could feel her heat pressed against him—against his growing erection. Given their positions, getting out of his pants would be nearly impossible at the moment. But relieving her of her top was doable. And she seemed more than happy to let him choose the path of least resistance.

  In short order it was up and over her head. The bra she wore beneath it was the kind that pushed a woman’s breasts up into tantalizing mounds of soft flesh. He murmured his appreciation in the dim light as he reached around back for the clasp. The chirp of a car door being unlocked somewhere nearby had both of them going still. A moment later a motor revved and then headlights bounced around in the parking structure. As it came their way, Kate grabbed her shirt and all but dived back over the console to her side of the vehicle. The car was gone—along with the moment. She adjusted her clothes before looking at him. Her labored breathing, in sync with his, was the only sound as they stared at one another in the SUV’s dim interior.

  “That was close,” she said.

  A statement that could be taken two ways, Brody thought. “So, was I wrong?”

  “About?”

  He rubbed a finger over her full bottom lip. “You need to ask?”

  She chuckled. “No. But I didn’t intend to go that far.”

  Neither had he. And regardless of the fact they were consenting adults, some ground rules applied. Forget his concerns over her motives—they couldn’t pretend they didn’t work together. Or that he was her boss.

  Apparently she read his mind. “What just happened between us isn’t about work. It doesn’t have anything to do with Douglass Shipping.”

  Nothing? He wanted to believe it was as she said, but he was damned if he knew for sure. And he was damned because, sitting in his SUV with Kate right now, all he wanted to do was drag her back across the console onto his lap. Or better yet, move this encounter to the bench seat in the rear. Sex in a parked vehicle. He mentally grimaced over his desperation. It had been more than a decade since he’d last attempted that. These days he preferred a soft mattress, a little mood music, and the peace of mind that someone wasn’t going to start tapping on a steamed-up window at clutch time. But he’d take what he could get with Kate. He felt that frantic to have her.

  “Where do you see this heading?” he asked, choosing his words with as much care as possible.

  Even so, her lips bowed in a smile, drawing his attention to her mouth. “Brody Flynn, are you asking me my intentions?”

  “I’m being serious, Kate.”
>
  “I’m being serious, too. Well, a little.” She sighed, sobered. “Am I supposed to be thinking beyond the moment? After…that? I’m still trying to process the fact that you’re so attracted to me.”

  “You find that surprising? I can’t be the first man to notice you or act on it. Hell, I know I’m not. I’ve seen pictures of you plastered on the society pages, Kate. It doesn’t look like you’re short of admirers among Chicago’s elite.”

  She didn’t appear offended. “That’s just it. Men want to be seen and photographed with Jonathon Douglass’s daughter. It’s not about me. Not really. It’s about them. Specifically, what I can do for them.” She motioned with one elegant hand. The same hand that a moment earlier had been clawing at his clothes. “A career boost. An introduction to my father or one of his powerful friends. I’m a stepping-stone on their rise to higher social standing or climb of the corporate ladder.”

  “That’s how Collin sees you, isn’t it?”

  “There’s nothing between Collin and me, despite what he thinks and what my father wishes.”

  “Jonathon sees him as son-in-law material?” Brody ignored the odd twist in his gut.

  Kate’s mouth tugged down into a grim line before she replied, “That doesn’t bother me as much as the fact that he saw him as successor material.”

  They were both quiet for a minute. Then Kate said, “You’re different, Brody.”

  Her assessment, offered with such quiet certainty, had him uncomfortable.

  “Don’t make me out to be a saint,” he said.

  “Oh, I’m not putting you on the short list for canonization.” Her laughter filled the SUV. “You can be ruthless. That fact hasn’t escaped me. And you’ve even admitted you’re using me to a certain extent. But you’re also the first man in a long time that doesn’t see me first and foremost as a means to an end.”