Jordan cleared his throat. “Did you watch the disc?” he asked, ignoring her statement.
“It’s why I’m here now.” She glanced to Quentin who had turned full circle to watch her. The Burberry cashmere trench coat he wore complemented his well-built physique as it stretched the length of his masculine form tapering off at his knees. The collar sat straight up, and a peek of his strong neck teased her. The way his heated gaze cruised over every portioned detail of Phoebe almost made her quiver where she stood. “Good evening, Quentin.”
“My lady love...” his thick voice grooved.
A smile spread across her lips, and he winked as naughty thoughts of how they could redesign her office came to mind.
“Could you make out the image in the mirror,” Jordan said, interrupting their moment.
Phoebe’s eyes snapped to Jordan. “It’s DeAngelo Weatherby.”
“I thought so, too,” Jordan added.
“Why would he hire us knowing we would find this information out?”
“Honestly, I think he was the one who dropped the disc in our mailbox.”
Phoebe’s eyes rose. “That’s how you got this recording?”
“Yes. It was marked with only one word.”
“Which was?”
“Rose.”
Phoebe shifted her weight from one foot to the other, astonished at the
evidence they held. “I’m going over there,” Phoebe asserted.
Quentin’s brows furrowed, and that fierce protectiveness he always felt with her kicked in. He didn’t know the details of the case, but it didn’t sound safe for Phoebe to be going anywhere by herself. But before Quentin could expand on that thought Jordan spoke up.
“You have no reason to go see DeAngelo Weatherby. He’s not our client regardless to the fact that he’s paying us to win his sister’s case. We’re going to see Ms. Weatherby. She needs to know what her options are.”
“You know what this means,” Phoebe said. “Ms. Weatherby has to give up her brother or give up her partner.”
The room grew quiet as each of them played with those words in a different scenario. It made them all as equally uneasy to think of having to choose between loved ones in any situation.
“Have you had dinner?” Quentin asked, deciding to be the one to break the ever-growing ice.
“Is that an invitation, or are you worried about my nutritional needs?” Her lashes batted, and Quentin grew hard in his pants.
“Both,” he said with a lazy grin.
“In that case, I’ll be ready in an hour.”
“I’ll be here.”
Phoebe had a notion to stroll across the room and lay a mouthwatering kiss on his lips, but she decided to cut Jordan some slack. He was still processing their budding relationship, but it would be one of the last times she held back.
“We’ll go first thing tomorrow morning, so be ready. I’ll pick you up from home,” Jordan said, keeping his eyes on Phoebe.
Phoebe regarded her brother, standing stoic, with his jaw locked. She thought about commenting on what she’d heard upon entering his office then thought better about it. If Quentin was in his office, he’d obviously come to do damage control. Whatever he’d said to Jordan was their business, and if he wanted to talk about it over dinner, then they would.
“How much longer do you plan on staying tonight?” she asked Jordan.
“I’m not sure, the Weatherby case isn’t the only one I’m working on. Neither are you,” he added.
Phoebe stretched her arms, and Quentin followed her every movement. His eyes drifted up her tiny waist to her hefty bosom, small neckline and upturned head. She pulled deeper into her stretch, arching her back and yawning at the same time. The simple movements wreaked havoc on Quentin’s senses as his mind was assaulted with images of thrusting into her from behind and the things that could be accomplished with her sweet little mouth.
With all the strength he could muster, Quentin pulled his eyes away from Phoebe to glance at Jordan who was now pretending to be interested in a few papers strung across his desk.
“That’s true,” Phoebe responded to Jordan, “but I can at least take time to eat, can’t I?” she glanced to her brother who didn’t return her eye contact.
“As you’ve pointed out, dear sister, you are old enough to make your own decisions.”
They all knew this conversation was not about Phoebe eating, and she decided to let go of the charade and move on.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” she turned to walk toward the door but stopped to gaze back at Quentin. “I’ll see you in a minute?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied.
She offered him a brief smile then left the room, closing the door behind her.
“Are we done here?” Jordan said, continuing to give Quentin no eye contact.
“In regard to the statement you made before Phoebe entered, is that all you’re worried about, me boning your sister?”
Jordan’s jaw tightened, and finally he leveled a hostile glare at Quentin. “Nice conversation you had with my brothers last night. I heard all about it when Jonathon called my phone raging at your audacity.”
Quentin decided to shift gears also. “Nah, I think all of you are hypocrites. And you know what they say about hypocrites, they’re the worst kind of people. They preach one thing while doing the total opposite.” Jordan went to respond when Quentin pressed forward. “Imagine my surprise when my brothers from the same cloth decided to shame me for doing the exact same thing they’ve done.” Quentin tisked, “Shame,” he said.
“Are you saying you’ve found the woman you will marry? Are you saying, Quentin Davidson, that Phoebe’s the love of your life and you plan to make her your wife? Because if you are, that’s a whole different scenario. Don’t get it twisted. None of us would be mad because of that. We would most likely welcome it. But let’s be honest here. You…” Jordan shook his head, “are not there, and you know it.”
“Says you?” Quentin said.
“Says Cindy, your assistant that you’re still boning. Or am I wrong? Did you fire her, or is she still on your payroll and your dick?”
Quentin gritted his teeth while Jordan waited for a response.
“Nothing?” Jordan exclaimed. “What about the woman you were having a cup of coffee with in the middle of the day when you got hit by a car?”
Jordan placed his hand to his ear as if to say, “I can’t hear you.”
“Nothing there either, huh?” he continued. “How do you think Phoebe will feel when she knows you’re still carrying around a torch for your assistant and possibly grooming other women while she’s dating you?”
Quentin brooded while listening to Jordan’s accusations.
“Ah,” Jordan said. “More silence.” He shook his head and took his focus back to his papers. “If there’s nothing else, I have work that needs my attention.”
Quentin watched Jordan for the better part of a minute, answering the questions Jordan asked in his own thoughts. It was pointless for him to tell Jordan he and Cindy weren’t a thing, and he had no plans to play around with her or anybody else while he and Phoebe were an item. Jordan wouldn’t believe him unless he fired Cindy, and it was something Quentin wasn’t entirely ready to do.
Quentin made his move toward the door and opened it. On the other side, Delilah Crenshaw, a first-year associate beamed at the sight of his magnificent splendor.
“Hi, Quentin Davidson, right?”
“I’m the one,” he said.
“Wow, it’s amazing to see you in person.”
“Amazing?”
“Yeah, I seem to run into famous faces often now that I work here,” she gushed. “I could stand to lose a little weight myself, do you have any pointers, or perhaps a class?” She lowered her eyes seductively, purposefully pushing out her breasts.
“Get with my assistant, and we’ll go over your needs in detail,” he said.
Delilah gushed. “Sure thing,” she said.
Quentin didn’t bother to glance back at Jordan because he was sure there was a glare targeted in his direction. He couldn’t help being an absolute chick magnet. It was in his DNA, and he’d perfected the art of a simple seduction that made women fawn over him at the drop of a dime.
Checking the time on his wristwatch, Quentin decided to wait for Phoebe in the lounge, but that became a back and forth of loquacious conversation as woman after woman approached him with a sudden weight loss journey they wanted to ensue. Thirty minutes had passed when he decide to take his waiting to her office. He stood and closed a button on his jacket as he strolled through the cubicles, projecting a powerful and dominating authority.
Phoebe’s door was opened, and her face was buried in a mound of papers on her desk. By the creases in her brow, Quentin assumed she didn’t like what she read. He cleared his throat, and Phoebe glanced at the door. Her frown dropped instantly, and a soft soothing smile replaced it.
“Hey,” she said, “come in.”
Quentin stepped in the office, and Phoebe rose from her chair, checking the time. “Are you ready for dinner?” she asked.
“I’m ready whenever you are.” he said.
“Can you have a seat for about five minutes while I close out my system?”
“Of course,” he said, “there’s no rush. As a matter of fact, if you’re not done, finish your task. Waiting in the lobby was becoming a bit overcrowded, so I decided to wait in here.” His sexy eyes moved up and down her completely, and Phoebe blushed and sauntered toward him. When she came close, Quentin reached for her, wrapping his thick arms around her waist. In turn Phoebe’s arms slipped around his muscular shoulders while stuffing her face into his neck.
“Mmmm,” she said, “you smell so good, and you’re so warm. I swear I could nap here and be completely rejuvenated when it’s over.”
“That can be arranged,” his deep voice grooved.
Phoebe giggled and exhaled a deep breath. She turned her face into his skin and kissed his collarbone.
“Lady love, you’re still at work. Wouldn’t want to disturb everyone else with your mid-afternoon fling.”
Phoebe giggled. “I dunno…” she sang, “I’m seriously considering it.”
Quentin pulled back slightly and eyed her with a slant of his lids.
“Don’t play with me, woman.”
Phoebe giggled again and finally drew away. When they disconnected, it was slow and steady as if neither one of them wanted to let go. Quentin’s gaze stayed locked on hers, and a sphere of warmth and electric energy circled them both.
Phoebe strolled around him to shut the door, and the click of the lock specified dangerous intents.
“You know,” Phoebe started, “I’ve got to be careful with you.” Her fingers slipped up her blouse and with three quick flips, the top three buttons came undone. “You have a way of making me unwind that should be against the law.”
Quentin unbuttoned his jacket and tugged at the collar of his shirt. Phoebe leaned her back against the door, with sultry eyes cast low. A growing smile registered across her lips, and with a finger she drew circles around her swelling cleavage. Quentin’s tongue chased his teeth, and in a prowl, he walked up on her, placing a hand on either side of her head. Quentin covered Phoebe with his extensive frame, dipping his head down to hover right above her face. The smell of Phoebe’s feminine fragrance made his libido go crazy. She had made it increasingly difficult for him not to stuff his face into her breasts and lick up her soft skin to her face. An animalistic rumble crept from his throat, and his pupils seemed to change colors going from light to dark.
Quentin licked his lips. “I don’t think you really want to do this here,” he said as his dread locks fell against his shoulders. Phoebe went to respond when Quentin pushed his mouth against her lips in a shush.
“Mmmm,” she moaned and promptly heat combed over them both. Speaking into his mouth, Phoebe purred, “Your actions discredit your words, Mr. Davidson.” Phoebe slipped her hands up the wool of his shirt, and her fingers sank into the flesh of his neck.
A knock at the door disturbed their sensual moment, but not before Quentin kissed her lips one last time for good measure. Phoebe was caught between a gasp when his lips suffused into hers, and she held on to his neck as the kiss deepened. The knock came again, and with reluctance, Quentin pulled away from her and crossed the room to the windows.
Phoebe readjusted herself and swiped the corners of her lips just in case her lipstick was a bit messy. Turning around, she opened the door with a hand on her hip. “Yes,” she said, staring up at Christian.
“I wanted to turn in the information I was able to come across before you leave,” Christian said. “Are you leaving anytime soon?” Christian’s eyes flew over to Quentin who stood with his back to them, looking at the same skyscrapers Jordan had earlier.
“Yes, I’ll be leaving in about fifteen minutes. Thank you for bringing this to me. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Have a good night.” Christian turned to leave before deciding to say whatever was on his mind. “Hey, is that Quentin Davidson, the fitness spokesperson?”
“It is,” Phoebe said, amused that the young intern’s voice took on a hero-like fascination.
His mouth dropped, and his eyes stretched in surprise.
“How could you tell from the back of his head?” Phoebe questioned.
“I thought I saw him walking through, but I wear glasses, so I couldn’t be sure.”
Phoebe chuckled. “Have a nice day, Christian.”
“You too, and you too, Mr. Davidson,” Christian yelled out.
Quentin turned to the gushing boy with a nod to his head in a silent adieu.
“Sorry about that,” Phoebe said. She waited a beat then asked. “Did you and my brother finish your conversation?”
“Something like that.”
Phoebe could only guess how it ended.
“Anything you would like to discuss?”
“Not at all,” his easy voice replied.
“All right,” Phoebe said, treading around her desk. She saved the items on her monitor then powered down the computer.
Quentin strolled around to her chair to remove her coat, and holding it out, she shimmied into the wool material. Closing the gap between his front and her back, Quentin’s arms wrapped around her shoulders, snugly positioning the fleece over her. With a kiss to her cheek, he spun her in his arms then applied another soft smooth kiss to her cherry red lips.
Phoebe practically sighed, feeling completely euphoric being so close to him. “Shall we?”
Phoebe grinned and slinked her fingers in his brawny hands, and together they left the building. It was not without the curious stares of everyone’s path they crossed. As they waited for the elevator, they flirted shamelessly, a wink here, an air kiss there, a tightening of their interlaced fingers. The doors dinged, and they both stepped on, keeping their eyes locked on each other.
“This will be our first official time out together as a couple,” Phoebe said.
Quentin nodded. “Are you nervous?”
“Should I be?”
“It depends. You are accustomed to the limelight, and when you’re with your sisters, I’m sure it’s triple trouble.”
“I feel a but coming on,” Phoebe said.
“But now you’re with me, and once we are spotted, I have a feeling the attention we will gain will be exponential.”
Phoebe tilted into his shoulder. “I think I can handle it,” she said.
Quentin pulled her hand to his mouth for a kiss that sent another stirring storm of heat through her body. The door hit the gr
ound floor, and the elevator doors opened where a gang of paparazzi had been camping out after word that Quentin Davidson was visiting Rose and Garnet LLC. Phoebe and Quentin didn’t get another chance to change their minds before the pops of light flashed from camera bulbs.
Chapter Sixteen
“A limo?” Phoebe questioned as she and Quentin dashed out the doors of Rose and Garnett LLC.
“Yeah,” he said.
Photographers threw questions at them as they made a run for the awaiting vehicle.
“Why are you visiting a law firm today, Quentin? Are you in trouble?”
Before Quentin had a chance to response, another question was thrown from a different cameraman. “Are you guys dating?”
“Where are you going this evening—”
“Phoebe, look this way!”
Their chauffeur stood at the ready with the back door to the limo open. Phoebe slipped inside, and Quentin was quickly behind her. The chauffeur closed the doors, and the cameramen surrounded the vehicle steadily throwing questions while snapping pictures at the same time. Slowly, the driver pulled away from the curb, and the car sailed off smoothly down the street.
Phoebe shook off some of the frigid weather and looked at Quentin. “You were right,” she said. “That is worse.”
Quentin’s baritone laugh sent shivers down her spine. She loved it when his smooth coffee lips eased into a heavy chortle. The set of pearly whites highlighted his smile even more, and it was no wonder she loved tasting his mouth.
“I did try and warn you.”
Phoebe nodded. “You did.” She settled next to him as he draped an arm over her shoulder. “Rarely have I seen you in a limo. Pulling out the big guns I see.”
Quentin’s beard tickled the tip of her nose, and Phoebe turned her face upward to nuzzle under his chin. “I absolutely love the way you smell,” she said.
“As do I.”
“You love the way you smell?”
Quentin pierced her with a look, and Phoebe laughed. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist.”
“So you got jokes.” He reached and tugged her nose, and Phoebe giggled. “I missed you today.”
“Did you?”
Mine (Falling For A Rose Book 7) Page 11