by Jackie Braun
She didn’t answer his question. “Is five o’clock okay? Or is that too early?”
Brody nodded in acceptance and then with a hurried good-bye, she got in her car and left. He drove home, where he spent a miserable night alone trying to figure out the best way to flush out a traitor.
When he arrived at Kate’s house the next day, he was late by nearly an hour. He wished he could claim tardiness was part of his strategy. Keep her waiting. Keep her guessing. Keep her off balance. But the truth was Brody had dragged his feet because he dreaded finding out if Seth was right. Was Kate deceiving him?
On his way over, Brody had stopped for wine, picking up not one but two bottles of the chardonnay she preferred. This did play a role in his strategy, and he wasn’t proud of it. She’d told him she wanted to talk. Well, he wanted that, too. The alcohol would relax her, especially after a couple glasses. It would put her at ease and make her more likely to reveal something important. Such as if she was poised to plunge a knife in his back.
He’d thought he was ready for anything, but his breath caught when she answered her door. She wore a soft red sweater—cashmere?—and skinny jeans that molded to her slender legs like a second skin. Her shoes had lethal silver daggers for heels and put her mouth level with his Adam’s apple. Her hair was down, the way he liked it, fitting right into the many fantasies he’d had involving her.
“Hello, Kate.”
“Hello.” She offered an uncertain smile. “I wasn’t sure you were coming.”
He held out both bottles of wine, a gift of the Trojan horse variety, and shrugged. “Sorry about that. I stopped for these and then I ran into traffic. I should have called to let you know.”
“That’s all right. I can reheat dinner.” She took the wine and stepped to the side. “Come in.”
“Smells good,” he remarked.
“Probably the rosemary and thyme I used on the roast.”
“I was talking about you.” Unable to resist, Brody leaned down for a kiss. It was quick, but not without finesse. He didn’t believe in doing anything halfway. Even a closed-mouth kiss could be arousing if one did it right.
“What was that for?” She looked a little unsteady, so he was glad when she set the wine bottles on the small table in the foyer.
“To take the edge off,” he answered honestly. He wasn’t sure he could trust Kate. He wasn’t sure he could trust himself around her. But that didn’t change the fact that he’d been dying to kiss her all week.
“Did it?”
“No.” Harsh laughter escaped before he admitted truthfully, “If anything, it had the opposite effect.”
“Then maybe you need to try it again,” Kate suggested.
Instead of waiting for him to initiate, she took the lead. Splaying her hands on his chest, she rose and covered his mouth with hers. As she deepened the kiss, her hands dipped beneath the lightweight jacket he wore, pushing it back and off his shoulders. He let it slip down his arms, fall to the floor. Then he got busy with his own hands, plunging them into her hair and using his hold to urge her closer until their bodies were flush. When her soft curves melted against him, need flashed as white-hot and intense as a lighted blowtorch. His blood pumped before starting to pool between his legs. They hadn’t even made it out of her foyer, and his control already was threatening to snap. Unnerved, Brody stopped and backed away. Even without all the baggage between them as her boss, he had a lot to consider before taking her to bed.
“Better?” she asked, her wry expression making it clear she already knew his answer.
“Not by a long shot,” he replied gruffly.
She didn’t look offended by his tone. In fact, she smiled. The walls of the small foyer seemed to close in when she stepped closer. He braced, prepared for another kiss, but she bent down and retrieved his jacket from the floor.
“Is anything wrong?” she asked. “You seem…tense.”
Wonder why. But he changed the subject. “You mentioned something about reheating dinner.”
“I did. I can’t promise it will be as good as it would have been had you arrived on time, but…” She lifted her shoulders and reached into the closet for a hanger.
“I’m sure it will be better than anything I’ve made for myself since my sisters returned to school.”
“You sound like you miss them,” she said as they headed to the kitchen.
“I do.”
“Will they be home for a weekend before Thanksgiving?”
“Jenna maybe, but not Jess.” He lifted one shoulder. “Her social calendar is pretty full, apparently.”
“Well, you could always go see them.”
“True.” If he could find the time. The thought that his sisters had slipped down on his list of priorities didn’t sit well. Nothing was turning out the way it was supposed to—including his growing feelings for Jonathon Douglass’s daughter.
Kate’s tone was wistful as she said, “I bet they’d like that. At that age I would have loved for my father to visit, especially if it was just to catch up and not because he was worried about me.” She opened the oven door and checked on the meal. The smell that wafted out was pure heaven.
“What have you got in there?”
“A pot roast with root vegetables. Hearty man food with a little flair,” she added on a modest shrug. She closed the door and adjusted the temperature. Brody wished the heat in his body could be so easily controlled.
“I should have brought something red. I grabbed a couple bottles of that chardonnay you like.” Both of which were still in the foyer, growing warm.
“We can start with that while we wait for the roast to heat up.”
…
This didn’t bode well, Kate thought as Brody went to get the wine. He seemed…suspicious was the word. Was he privy to her father’s plans? Did he know what Collin was up to? She wanted to tell him and hadn’t ruled out the possibility. She didn’t want to keep secrets from Brody. But the reason she’d asked him here today was to declare openly her intention to buy back Douglass. If she made that plain, maybe her father’s efforts would become moot. At least that was her hope. But how was Brody’s current mood going to affect that?
And how would he interpret her obvious interest in him? As a form of manipulation? She’d been careful all week to keep her distance, which had nearly killed her. And then she’d all but attacked him in the foyer just now. Her interest in him was no ploy. The man made her crazy with longing. More frightening still, that longing wasn’t all sexual. She wanted the entire package he represented: a man who recognized and appreciated her strength. Who saw her as an equal, a partner. Who valued family as much as he valued success.
As she fussed with the stemware, she tried to remember what she had planned to say. Despite having spent hours preparing, all coherent thought had fled when she’d opened her door to find him on her porch, looking more sinful than the strawberry cheesecake she’d made for dessert.
“It’s still reasonably chilled,” Brody said from behind her, causing her to jerk and nearly knock over the glasses.
She hadn’t heard him return. She glanced down at his stocking feet.
“You didn’t need to take off your shoes.” Indeed, it would be best if he kept all of his clothes on, even if her curiosity about what she’d find beneath cotton and denim was growing stronger by the minute.
Pop! went the cork and she nearly moaned.
When she reached for the wine to pour it in their glasses, her hands shook.
“I’ve got this.”
That was what she was afraid of. Her control was slipping right along with her command of the situation.
Filled wineglass in hand, she led him to the living room, where flames danced in the fireplace, chasing away the fall day’s chill. She hadn’t intended it to seem romantic. Would he take it that way?
“Let’s have a seat.”
She decided on a chair instead of the couch. For the briefest moment, she thought she saw him smile. He remained standi
ng, asked point-blank, “What am I doing here, Kate?”
Caught off guard, she sputtered, “H-having dinner.”
“Kate, don’t. You know what I mean. Why did you invite me?”
Although she tried to gather her thoughts together, they remained an untidy jumble. “All right. There’s more to it than a meal. I wanted to talk, clear the air about something without having to worry about being interrupted or overheard at the office.”
He took a drink of wine. “All right.”
“All right?” She blinked. “As in right now?”
“Why not?”
She glanced toward the kitchen. “Dinner—”
“Can wait a little longer.”
“Aren’t you hungry?”
A foolish thing to ask. Now he did smile. Fully. But it wasn’t humor that lit his eyes, causing her skin to prickle. It was blatant, potent sexual interest, the kind he’d tried to keep harnessed at the office. The kind she’d tried to avoid all week.
“I’m starving, Kate.” He stepped toward her and she swore her skin became singed under his hot gaze. But then he shrugged. “I guess our talk can wait until after we’ve eaten and enjoyed a glass of wine.” He took a drink, gaze intent on her as he swallowed, and then he winked before adding, “Or two.”
…
The meat was a little dried out, and the accompanying carrots, parsnips, and potatoes too soft after being reheated. But that wasn’t why Kate was having a hard time choking down the meal she’d prepared. Her moment of reckoning would soon be at hand. Oddly, instead of focusing on what her future might hold in business, she found herself focusing on Brody, her mind teasing her with images of the Virgo tattoo he’d mentioned and the firm part of his anatomy to which it was affixed.
“More wine?” he asked. They’d switched to red after the first glass of white. Half a goblet remained, but this made twice he’d offered to refill it.
“Trying to get me drunk?” she teased, already feeling the effects of the wine she’d consumed on a nearly empty stomach.
“Worried I’ll take advantage of you?”
Hoping was more like it. But she replied, “You have too many scruples for that.”
“Do I?” He seemed to think it over for a moment, then he tipped the bottle he was holding. Merlot splashed into her glass, filling it nearly to the rim. “Not everyone thinks so.”
“If you mean my father, he—”
“I don’t.”
Brody cut off a piece of meat, speared it with his fork, and popped it into his mouth. She set her silverware aside, her nerves stretched too thin by what was turning into a game of cat and mouse.
“If you have something to say, Brody, I wish you would just say it. I believe I told you once before I don’t believe in playing games.”
He nodded, but reached for his wine and took his time about answering. “Yes, I remember that. In the conference room. The day I hired you. A lot has happened between us since then.”
“Yes, it has. I’d like to think we’ve become friends.”
“Friends?” But he didn’t challenge her further. Instead he said, “I’m picking up some chatter. Someone is feeding my investors and others in the industry some potentially damaging information about me.”
Oh, God! But she managed to keep her tone neutral when she asked, “Such as?”
“That’s not important. I need to know—”
“If it’s me,” Kate finished before he could.
He dipped his chin, waited for an answer. Kate found herself stuck between the proverbial rock and a hard place. She’d sworn this man her allegiance, but if she outed Collin for spreading lies, what would that do to her relationship with her father?
She chose her words carefully. “It’s not me. Whatever is being said, whatever rumors are being spread, I have no part in them. I have nothing to gain from sabotaging you, Brody.”
“Nothing?” He didn’t appear convinced. “Are you saying you have no interest in seeing the company returned to your family’s control?”
He would have to put it that way.
This wasn’t how she’d planned to broach the subject of buying him out, with him on the offensive and her trying to retain his trust, but since he’d not only provided the opening but also had basically dared her to pass through it, she had no other choice.
Her heart thudded as she wondered if what she was about to say would compromise the fragile foothold of their budding relationship.
“I do want my company back.” There, she’d said it. Made her intentions as plain as day. And now she qualified the statement with, “Someday. I don’t have the capital to buy you out now, even though I own a sizable chunk of stock.”
He dipped his chin. “Fifteen percent.”
Kate picked up her wine and sipped. “Actually, I own more than that.”
Brody’s eyes narrowed. “How?”
“How much more? An additional 7 percent.”
“How?” he repeated.
“It was my mother’s. She received it as part of her divorce settlement. She put it in a trust for me. I couldn’t access it until I turned thirty. I just learned about it,” she hastened to add when his expression clouded with suspicion.
“But your father knew.”
“Look, I can’t speak for my father. But I can assure you I’m not scheming against you or spreading any rumors, even if ultimately my goal is to have Douglass under my full control.”
“Your goal doesn’t exactly come as a surprise.”
“Perhaps not, but I didn’t want to leave it unsaid. I believe in being honest, aboveboard. It’s how I operate. It’s important to me that you know that.”
“Well, someone’s not operating that way. Someone is lying about me. And the things they’re saying could get them not only fired from my company, but also sued for defamation of character.” He thumped his fist on the table, but it was his words that made her jump. “I’m not in bed with the mob!”
…
Brody studied Kate across the table, trying to gauge what she knew based on her startled reaction. “You look surprised.”
“Of course I’m surprised. I haven’t heard the rumors.”
Which wasn’t quite the same as saying it was the first she’d heard of them.
“So, you didn’t know about them?”
“If you’re asking if either I or my father is behind them, the answer is no.”
Again, she’d parsed her words in such a way as to leave her with some wiggle room.
“I’m not your enemy, Brody,” she said when he remained silent.
She tilted her head to one side and her hair spilled over her shoulder. He remembered how those dark locks had felt fisted in his hands while they’d kissed in the foyer. He was tempted to touch her again, kiss her. No matter what, he still wanted her. He still liked her. He was starting to… No. He wouldn’t let himself explore his feeling beyond like. But he did give in to temptation. Reaching across the table, he covered her hand with his and gave it a gentle squeeze that could be mistaken for admiration, especially when he said, “I’ll give you this, Kate. You’ve got guts. I’ve only been sitting in your father’s office a couple of months, you’re still on probation in a position that a lot of people think I was foolish to give you in the first place, and you’re talking about replacing me.”
“Not replacing you. Buying you out. And not in the near future. I’m talking about when the time is right, when you’ve moved on to your next business venture.”
Apparently he wasn’t the only one who could be patient.
“I was thinking of asking what you’ll do if I don’t move on, but perhaps the better question might be what role does your father have in your…aspirations?”
Her brows arched. He gave her points for attitude. And damned if he didn’t find her challenging expression sexy. “What makes you think he has any?”
“Call it a hunch.”
“You know, I’ve defended you to my father when he’s claimed you targeted Dou
glass to punish him for some past…transgression, for lack of a better word.” She pulled her hand out from under his and commenced twisting that gemstone ring. If she hadn’t told him about her mother, he might have thought the gesture meant she was nervous. But he knew better. Kate wasn’t screwing up her courage. She was cementing her resolve. Never give up.
Sure enough, she continued. “He said he doesn’t remember you, and that he can’t imagine what he could have done that would have made you target Douglass Shipping. Even so, he insists that profit isn’t your motive—or at least it isn’t the only one—behind the takeover.”
He could tell her the truth. Maybe he even owed it to her. God knew her father wouldn’t be forthright when it came to how their paths had crossed. Assuming he figured it out before the trauma center opened and Brody outed him. “Are you asking me to validate your opinion or confirm his suspicions?”
“Is he mistaken?” she pressed.
Instead of answering, Brody shot back with, “Is he involved in your ambitions?”
“Not in the way you think.”
“What in the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Look, Brody. You either trust me or you don’t. I haven’t given you a reason to doubt me. I’ve been honest with you. Are you being honest with me?”
He pushed back from the table and got to his feet, unable to sit still. Everything was going more or less the way he’d hoped it would when he’d started his plan in motion not long after graduating college. He’d run into setbacks along the way, of course. He’d anticipated some complications. Factored them in as he’d plodded ahead. But he hadn’t factored in Kate. And she was one giant complication.
She had him questioning everything. Second-guessing his future. Suddenly he wanted to know what would come after the ribbon was cut on the Stuart & Teresa Abbott Trauma Center.
Flynn Logistics. More and more he found himself turning the idea over in his head. Still, he couldn’t make the pieces fit.
“You want honest?”
She nodded. “It’s the basis of all good relationships.” She cleared her throat. “Business or otherwise.”
Yes, it was. But suddenly the thought of telling Kate the reason for his revenge seemed selfish. For all Jonathon Douglass’s faults and flaws, the man was her father. Brody didn’t want to hurt her. And he would by making her think less of the man, deserved or not.