His Brother's Secret

by Debra Salonen

  He had to double clutch his glass to keep from dropping it. “Why?”

  She rose and set the glass on the marble counter behind him then leaned into him and looped her arms around his neck. “You know, for a writer, you seem to lack a certain amount of imagination.”

  He locked his fingers together at the base of her spine. She loved how the weight of his hands naturally brought her hips to his. “Not so, my sweet coquette. I’ve been imagining you in my arms, in my bed, since the first day I got here. Not even your favorite romance author could have seen this coming.”

  “If I told you that speaking French turns me into putty in your arms, would that give you an unfair advantage?”

  He nuzzled her neck and slowly kissed a sensitive spot below her ear. “I’ll take any advantage you give me, but sadly, I learned most of my French from Pepé le Pew.”

  She practically doubled over laughing. The release broke the last of any ice between them. She felt young and alive and sexy. She quickly turned off the water and stripped off her T-shirt, shorts and underwear. She didn’t know why she was neither embarrassed nor hesitant.

  One foot. Two feet.

  “Hot,” she yelped, and hopped back out.

  Shane quickly gave the cold water lever a turn, then wrapped his arms around her. “Poor baby. I could kiss your toes, but—”

  “Kiss me instead,” she said. “I don’t know where this newfound lack of inhibition is coming from, but if you’re smart you’ll make the most of it.”

  His lips fit with hers as if they’d been two halves of the same whole at some point. But he broke away a few moments later to bend over and test the water. She took advantage of the position to put her hand on his hip. Lean, but sculpted muscle. Black jeans, as usual. “Someone’s just a tad overdressed for this pool party. Maybe you don’t want to—”

  He caught her hand and kept it in place as he turned around. Just the right level to feel proof of his desire.

  “I want,” he said. “Hop in. The water’s perfect. I’ll be right back.”

  Shane hurried into the bedroom. He actually needed a few seconds to collect himself. Everything was moving at the speed of light. In a good way, but he sure as hell didn’t want Jenna to have any regrets. The pressure was on to make this as mind-blowingly fabulous as possible.

  He looked down at the bulge in his pants. No pressure. Yeah, right, he thought with a rueful grin.

  He stripped in the bedroom and unpacked his toiletry kit. He wasn’t a player—or a Boy Scout—but he did believe in being prepared. He dug out a small box of high-end condoms, tossing a couple on the bed. From now on he planned to have one in his pocket at all times.

  On his way back to the bathroom, he spotted his phone. One missed call. Tough. There was only one person he wanted to talk to and she was naked, wet and waiting.

  The heady scented steam had increased since he left. The warmth was nice after the air-conditioning in the outer areas. He hung up the two fluffy robes he’d grabbed on his way past the closet, then closed the door.

  “Ah…” she said, paddling through the bubbles to rest her arms on the marble decking around the tub. “I like your suit. Finally, something other than black.”

  A chuckle rumbled from his belly upward. God, he loved her.

  “I spend a lot of time by my pool.”

  “So I see. And you prefer a Speedo.”

  He stepped closer. “I usually skinny-dip. Early morning or before bed. But when I’m on the phone or working on the computer, I wear a swimsuit. May I join you?”

  She moved aside, but her gaze never left him. “No tattoo,” he heard her murmur. “I should have guessed.” He didn’t know what she was talking about, but he could almost feel the touch of her eyes on his chest, his belly, his groin. He felt a renewed surge of desire that told him he was going to need all his focus to keep from embarrassing himself.

  He sank into the water, spreading his legs to the outside of the tub, giving her space in the middle. Her knees were visible, like twin islands in the bubbles as she leaned back opposite him, head against the tiled wall. Her hair was still in a ponytail, leaving her shoulders exposed. With languid grace, she took a sip from the flute he’d given her earlier.

  “I’m sorry that’s not Dom Perignon.”

  She polished off the water. “I’m not. I don’t want anything to dull my senses. I’ve waited a long time for this.”

  He swallowed. “You’ve never been with anyone since…?”

  She stopped him with a toss of her head. “No. I have dated since college. A couple of semiserious relationships, but they didn’t gel, so to speak.”

  “Why not?”

  She shrugged. “I think I put too much pressure on them. Maybe I was asking too much at the time.”

  He wondered what that meant for him, now. “Such as proving to you the male sex isn’t made up entirely of jerks?”

  She had to lever out of the water to set the glass on the floor. The movement gave him a glimpse of her long, smooth back and a profile of her globe-shaped breast. His throat constricted and he almost forgot to breathe.

  She scooted closer, crossing her legs to sit up straight. “I wanted them to make me whole,” she said, her fingers spread wide to lightly skim down her body from head to waist. “Finally, I figured out that was my job.”

  He reached out as reverently as if he were touching a masterpiece by Michelangelo. He brushed the underside of her chin with the back of his fingers then slowly retraced the path her hands had taken. “You look spectacularly complete to me.”

  She closed her eyes and inhaled invitingly when he reached her breasts. Her flesh filled his palms, her small, ruddy nipples pebbling beneath his touch. He flicked his thumbs back and forth until they were taut then he leaned over and took first one, then the other in his mouth and suckled.

  “Oh. Oh, that feels so…nice,” she cried.

  She cleared the distance between them, water sloshing like a slippery aphrodisiac in every fold and niche. Her ankles tucked in behind him. When they kissed, he tasted traces of bubble bath, a hint of mint from the chewing gum they’d had earlier and…Jenna. Delicious. Intoxicating.

  With one hand in his hair and the other behind his back, she wiggled closer, sending warm waves over his groin driving his need to critical mass.

  He knew he needed to slow things down, but his body—and her hands traveling down his sides—seemed to have another agenda.

  “I…we…Jenna…” he cried when her fingers angled across his groin. The hot water caressing his penis was bad enough. If Jenna touched him, he might completely lose his edge.

  He made an executive decision. Losing control at this point wasn’t an option. He stood, taking her with him. Once he was sure she had her balance, he dipped to pick her up and carefully stepped over the side of the tub.

  She started to laugh. “Something you don’t like about tubs?” she asked, looping her arms around his neck.

  “Lack of traction,” he said, wiping his feet on a well-placed floor mat. The last thing he wanted was to slip on the tile floor and injure them both. “And beds give us more options. Would you mind grabbing a towel? My hands are full.”

  She had to stretch over his shoulder to reach the stock of thick white towels. This provided the perfect opportunity to kiss her. She relaxed against him and opened her mouth so his tongue could explore, making sure it didn’t miss a spot.

  When he felt the texture of the towel against his back, he looked at her and smiled. “We’re squeaky clean. Now, we can play as long as we want and we don’t have to worry about the water getting cold.”

  “If we fool around too long, we’ll miss our reservations for dinner,” she warned.

  He opened the door and walked straight to the bed. “There’s always room service.”

  The air temperature was a jolting difference and the trickles of water down his spine felt like icicles.

  “My father—” she stopped, a grin making her eyes a lighter shade
of green “—isn’t paying the bill. Maybe I’ll order lobster.”

  The admission told him more than she probably even realized. The past was then. This was now.

  And now had never looked better, he thought as he carefully laid her down and used the towel to dry her shoulders, tummy and legs.

  Or tasted better.

  He licked the underside of her breasts until she squirmed impatiently and let out a small, wordless cry. He understood. He needed more, too.

  Jenna kept her eyes closed and focused on the feelings this amazing man was able to create in the most unexpected ways and places. She ran her hands over his body, his smooth, muscular back, and caressed the ample body mass in his shoulders. He was strong and beautiful. His masculine scent blended with the bath oil to create a heady aphrodisiac that blocked any inhibitions she might have had.

  She felt like a new person. A whole, undamaged person who wasn’t afraid to love completely because she knew she could trust this man implicitly.

  A man who used protection without making a big deal about it. A man who worshiped her body so completely that when he entered her she welcomed him without reservation. That had never happened before. No anxious moments, no worrying about freezing up at the wrong instant or not being slick enough. This was happening the way it was supposed to, and she could stop worrying about trying too hard.

  “Perfect,” he murmured, slowly rocking his hips back and forth. “Jenna, this…is…so…right.”

  “Yes.” Finally. And as she responded instinctively to a rhythm that connected on the most basic level of her being, she knew she’d found that lost part of herself again.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “OH, MY GOD,” JENNA exclaimed hitting the touch pad on the laptop to stop the action on the screen. “She was amazing, wasn’t she?”

  She tilted her chin to look at the man sitting on the couch beside her. With the one-hour difference between the Hills and the West Coast, they’d had time that morning for a shared shower that more than made up for not making love in the tub the day before, and a leisurely breakfast in bed before Shane needed to set up the link to view Bess’s read.

  Shane had explained that a casting director had already culled a huge number of potential candidates for the various roles. She’d consulted with him on the top three or four and from that pool two would read for the part. He’d called her mother his “dark horse.”

  “Incredible,” he murmured, scribbling something on his lined pad. “I want to watch it again before we look at any of the others. I had something…” He hunched forward and typed in some command.

  Jenna sat back with a sigh. She didn’t need to watch it again. Her mother had owned the part. She’d come across as the perfect combination of ditzy and wise. No one else could play this part as well. Of that much Jenna was certain.

  She picked up her coffee cup and took a sip of the lukewarm brew as she watched Shane work. She admired the way he was able to hone his focus. She’d received the benefit of that intent attention several times last night.

  Rapture of a lost heart found, she’d written in her notebook just before dawn.

  She’d slipped out of bed while Shane slept and, wrapped in a slightly damp hotel robe, she’d curled up in this very spot to try to put her feelings on paper. An old habit that she’d fallen into after the rape to rid herself of the fear created by her recurring nightmare.

  But last night there’d been no nightmare, no faceless stalker coming after her, faster and faster. She forced down another gulp of coffee and looked at her notebook, resting on the end table a few feet away.

  This morning she’d used the familiar cathartic process to document—liberate in a way—the joy and feelings of bliss their lovemaking had aroused in her. She’d poured her feelings into the words, then, instead of hiding the book away, she’d left it open and returned to bed. She’d written:

  Imprisoned by a web of scars,

  I find my heart liberated at last.

  By love.

  And she did love him. More than she’d ever dreamed possible. She wasn’t sure what that meant, since they hadn’t talked about the past…or the future. Adam wasn’t a blip on their radar that might suddenly go away. The world—Shane’s and hers—was out there waiting, but they remained cocooned in this suite. For a few minutes more.

  She glanced at her watch. They needed to leave soon. Even before Robyn had agreed to take over as manager of the Mystery Spot, she’d informed Jenna that she would need this afternoon off. Some kind of out-patient surgery that she’d had scheduled for several months.

  Jenna polished off the dregs in her cup, then stood, brushing off crumbs of the croissant she’d nervously inhaled prior to her mother’s screen test. “Are you going to offer Mom the part?” she asked, unable to hold in the question any longer.

  “Absolutely,” Shane answered, closing the laptop. “Is that okay with you? There’s no guarantee the show will make the cut next month, but we’re going to give it our best shot and she’s perfect as Aggie.”

  A skittery feeling shot through her belly, but that could have been from the caffeine—or due to the look of desire she read on Shane’s face. Why had she ever thought he was mysterious and hard to read? She laid her hand on his shoulder. “Sorry, Charlie, I have to go to work.”

  His lips pulled to one side. “I know. I can’t explain it, but apparently I have a thing for women in uniforms. Who knew?”

  She looked down at her purple-and-yellow shirt tucked into her khaki Bermuda shorts. “If this turns you on, you’re one sick puppy, but I love you.”

  She choked slightly, realizing too late the flippant admission had slipped out without her planning it. Her cheeks turned hot and she covered them with her hands, peeking through her fingertips. “Oops. I didn’t mean that. Well, I did, I think. But not like that. Oh, shoot, I gotta go.”

  Shane hooted and pulled her to his lap. “Hey, relax. After last night I think it’s self-explanatory that we have very deep feelings for each other. The words will start to fit if we give ourselves a little more time.”

  She let out a sigh. “This is all new to me.”

  He kissed her tenderly. “Me, too.”

  Heat flared up instantly, and she wrapped her arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. She loved the taste of him, the shape of his teeth and playfulness of his tongue, but a minute or so later, responsibility reared its ugly head. “Work. Zikes. I have to go.”

  She jumped up and raced across the room for her purse and backpack. She couldn’t pack a lunch, of course, but she’d grab some junk food from the snack bar at the Mystery Spot.

  Shane met her at the door, the strap of his laptop case slung over one shoulder. He pulled his dark glasses out of the breast pocket of his black T-shirt and snagged one of the room keys. “Let’s go.”

  She hesitated. “Do you really think this is necessary? I’ll be in the midst of dozens of people all day.”

  His eyes narrowed stubbornly. “You still have to get there and back.”

  “But we left my car at the house to throw Adam off our trail. If I use your car, he wou—”

  He held up his hand to stop her. “This isn’t open for discussion, Jenna. I’m going. You can drive. I’ll work on the road and once we get to the Mystery Spot, I’ll stay in the office. You won’t even see me, unless there’s a problem.”

  She gave up with a sigh. “It’s the Bernese mountain dog in you, isn’t it? Okay. Let’s go.”

  He was true to his word.

  THE DAY FLEW BY with very few surprises—unless you counted the catering van that pulled into the parking lot at noon and served an impromptu lunch for the forty-five people present, including tourists from Norway, South Africa and Pennsylvania. Jenna had never tasted a more delicious Chinese chicken salad in her life, and the positive goodwill the gesture generated was probably impossible to calculate. She’d thanked Shane by dragging him into the storage closet for some hot and heavy breathing.

  “So, how ’b
out I show you a little more of the Hills?” she asked, as they headed home after her eight-hour stint. They’d planned to have dinner at the hotel since they’d missed their reservations the night before.

  “Sure. What did you have in mind?”

  She put on the blinker, turning the opposite way from the road they commonly took back to the main highway. “There’s a back way to Lead and Deadwood. You haven’t even seen the Open Cut, have you?”

  “What’s that?”

  Jenna kept her attention on her driving even as she related some of Homestake Gold Mine’s glorious and inglorious past. “Now, there’s a terrific visitor’s center, and you can view the end result of years and years of mining. I can’t guarantee we can find a parking place, though. Lead is a popular tourist area in the summer.”

  When she turned toward Rochford, traffic fell away substantially, although the number of motorcycles picked up.

  “It’s really gorgeous here,” Shane said, lowering his window. “The air smells clean and healthy. And the pace is…I like this.”

  “Me, too. I missed South Dakota when I lived in Montana. Don’t get me wrong, that’s a beautiful state, but the Hills are special. I can’t imagine living anywhere else.”

  She’d spoken from the heart, but when she glanced at him she realized she’d said something wrong. He was frowning again. She started to ask what was bothering him when she noticed a truck behind her. A big, midnight-blue, four-wheel-drive beast that looked like a more modern version of the one Mac drove. It was right on her tail and appeared in a hurry to pass, but on the curving two-lane road, that didn’t happen without someone pulling over.

  Her heart rate increased and her palms were sweating by the time she spied a spot wide enough for her to ease over. Shane pulled his seat-belt strap away from his chest to twist around and look over his shoulder. At that exact moment, the truck shot ahead as if passing, but failed to move over far enough, striking the Escalade with enough force to send the car straight for the edge of the embankment.

  Jenna reacted by slamming on the brakes. She avoided a tree but could do nothing to keep the car’s momentum on the gravel shoulder from carrying them straight over the embankment. In what felt like minutes but probably took place in microseconds, the car plunged nose down about five feet, grazing a huge boulder with the passenger-side bumper, which deployed Shane’s airbag. His body contorted pretzel-like in the instant before a solid white pillow stopped her from hitting the steering wheel.