by Day Leclaire
“Yes, I’m their corporate investigator. Yes, Matt and RJ Kincaid knew about our dinner date. And yes, Matt asked me—”
Before she could finish her statement, the handle of her office door jiggled. Discovering it locked, whoever had come—no doubt rushing to Nikki’s aid—began pounding on the door. Jack frowned in annoyance. Apparently, he needed to work a bit harder on his intimidation skills since clearly the receptionist had called for reinforcements. Although to be fair, he’d only warned her not to alert Nikki of his arrival. He hadn’t thought to include the rest of the Kincaids in his demand. The pounding reverberated against the wood, echoing straight through the hollowness filling his chest.
“Your rescue party, I believe.” He tilted his head to one side. “Must have been the receptionist. Apparently, her concern for you outweighed my threats.”
Nikki’s mouth dropped open and a hint of outrage glistened in her eyes. “You threatened Dee?”
“Of course I threatened Dee. It’s who I am, remember? I threaten. I act. And then I win.”
She shook her head. “That’s not true, Jack. That’s not the man I’ve spent the last three months falling—”
Another burst of pounding interrupted her words, words he’d have given half his fortune to have heard her utter. “Sinclair, we know you’re in there.” His half brother, RJ’s voice, Jack decided. Uncannily similar to his own, which only served to add to his anger. Irrational, but true. “Unlock this door right now or we’re calling the police.”
Jack lifted an eyebrow. “Well? Should I let them in?”
Nikki sighed. “That’s probably best if you don’t want to be arrested.”
“Arrested for what? I own forty-five percent of TKG.”
“Jack, please.”
He shrugged and did as she requested. Might as well get this over with. He stepped aside, grateful he’d done so when the door banged open. RJ and Matt Kincaid piled into the office. While Matt aligned himself in front of Nikki, RJ confronted Jack.
“Are you all right, Nikki?” RJ asked, his sharp gaze fixed on Jack.
The resemblance between them went beyond the superficial. Both topped six feet by an inch or two and were more solidly built than Matt’s lean, swimmer’s body. They’d also inherited a substantial portion of their father’s aristocratic good looks, including his dark brown hair and the general shape and expression of the eyes, even though the shade of blue differed dramatically. And as loath as Jack was to admit it, they also shared an uncanny knack for business, both excelling at it—which would make Jack’s success when he gained control of The Kincaid Group all the sweeter.
Matt, on the other hand, had darker hair and his eyes were the image of his mother’s, a sharp, currently infuriated bottle-green. Jack also sensed a strong protective instinct flowing through the younger of the two brothers, possibly due to his son’s recent close call with a serious health issue. No doubt that combination of factors explained his current stance in front of Nikki.
“Nikki?” RJ prompted. “You’re okay?”
“I’m fine. Jack and I were having a…discussion.” She stepped out from behind Matt’s broad shoulders. “Perhaps you can help.”
“Sure. Get out, Sinclair.”
Jack simply laughed. “That’s not going to happen.”
“Nor is it what I meant,” Nikki interceded. “Maybe you could help by telling Jack what you asked me to do in regard to our investigation of him.”
Beside her, Matt stiffened. “Are you kidding?”
“I’m dead serious,” Nikki replied, her gaze pleading. “Matt, tell Jack at what point you asked me to investigate him and his business. Please,” she added in a strained undertone.
Matt hesitated, but Jack could tell from his expression it wasn’t in order to come up with a convenient lie, but because he was attempting to pinpoint the exact time frame. “You were on the phone with him, setting up your auction date,” he finally said. “After you hung up, I asked you to see if you could uncover Sinclair’s plans regarding TKG. Since he now owns forty-five-percent interest in the company we were hoping he’d indicate how he intended to use his shares.”
“And,” Nikki prompted. She smiled at his concerned expression. “It’s okay, Matt. Just tell him.”
He shot a resentful glare in Jack’s direction. “I asked you to get a feel for the man. Is he someone you would want in charge of TKG?”
“So, you had Nikki investigate me and Carolina Shipping,” Jack stated flatly. His gaze turned to Nikki and lingered there for a long, painful moment. Tears filled her eyes and he forced himself not to move, not to acknowledge the impact of them in any way. “I’ll expect a copy of any and all reports you’ve generated about me on my desk by the end of today.”
“You can’t—” RJ began.
“I can,” Jack retorted, cutting him without hesitation. “I’m majority shareholder of this company. I’m well within my rights to request that information. And if it’s not on my desk by five, my lawyer will seek a court order forcing you to turn it over to me. Then we’ll see just when and what you ordered Nikki to do.”
Matt stepped in, frustration ripe in his voice. “You’re our competitor, Sinclair. What the hell did you expect us to do? Sit idly by while you dismantle our livelihood? There’s no way you won’t attempt to take over our family’s business with that forty-five percent you keep waving in our face, just as there’s no way you won’t attempt to fold TKG into Carolina Shipping.” He rested a supportive hand on Nikki’s shoulder. It took every remaining ounce of Jack’s self-control not to knock it off. The wave of sheer possessiveness that ripped through him felt as overpowering as a tidal wave. “FYI, I told Nikki that if I was wrong and you were on the up-and-up, fine. But you’re not on the up-and-up, are you, Sinclair?”
“I am when it comes to business.”
“Bull,” RJ interjected. “You’ve been undercutting us from the start, using the murder rap the police attempted to pin on my mother to steal new business away from us.”
“True.” Jack shrugged. “So what? Business is business.”
RJ’s mouth tightened and his expression—one eerily similar to what Jack saw in the mirror each morning—sparked with impotent fury. “I won’t allow you to take the business our father built and drop it in the crapper.”
“Why would I do that?” Jack asked mildly. Oh, he was enjoying taking on the brothers who’d been put ahead of him his entire life. He’d hungered for this moment, just as he hungered for the moment when he’d step into his father’s shoes as President and CEO of The Kincaid Goup. “TKG is a highly successful business, one I own considerable stock in. I have no interest in destroying it.”
RJ hesitated, his gaze shifting to his brother where the two had a moment of silent communication. “Then what are your intentions regarding the annual meeting later this month?”
“I plan to attend.”
Yeah, he was definitely getting too much of a kick out of this. Or he would if Nikki’s eyes weren’t fastened on him, pleading for his understanding. Oh, he understood, all right. He understood that he should never have trusted someone who moved in the rarified ranks of Charleston’s elite.
“We’ll be electing a new president and CEO. Who do you plan to vote for?” RJ pressed.
“I could tell you to wait and see, but there’s no point.” He took a single step in RJ’s direction, not the least surprised when his half brother held his ground. He had a strong suspicion they were a lot alike in that regard, too—maybe too much alike—cut in the same mold as the father they both shared. “I plan to take over TKG.”
Matt swore. “I knew it.”
Jack simply smiled. “And I plan to do exactly what you thought I’d do. I plan to fold TKG into my own company.” His gaze blistered first RJ, then Matt. “Welcome to Carolina Shipping. I suggest you don’t get too comfortable. You won’t be staying long.”
And with that he turned on his heel and left the office. He didn’t look back, though everything
within him urged him to do just that. But he didn’t dare. Because he knew that one look at Nikki’s devastated expression would gut him.
* * *
At precisely five minutes to five Nikki Thomas pulled into Carolina Shipping’s parking lot. Jack’s distinctive ruby-red Aston Martin Volante sat in the prime spot closest to a door she suspected led directly to his office. She didn’t attempt to confirm her guess. From this point forward, she’d need to play this very carefully, which meant entering the way everyone else did, through the front.
Opening a set of etched glass doors, she stepped into the foyer, taking a moment to absorb her surroundings. She’d never been here before, nor had she bothered to ask for a tour, in case Jack expected quid pro quo and felt he could or should ask about her job in return. She preferred not starting a conversation that might direct too much attention to her own work.
For some reason, the graciousness and Southern charm of the waiting area surprised her. It shouldn’t. She’d seen his beach cottage—a misnomer if ever there were one since his Charleston home exuded wealth and contemporary luxury. And she’d also stayed at his home in Greenville, a sprawling plantation mansion that brilliantly blended the old South with the new.
At her entrance, the receptionist greeted her with a lovely smile. “Ms. Thomas?”
Nikki blinked in surprise. “That’s right.”
“Jack said to expect you. He bet me you’d show up right before closing.” She laughed. “After all these years working for him, you’d think I’d know better than to bet against him. He has an uncanny knack for winning.”
Nikki stifled a faint whiff of irritation. “So I’ve discovered,” she said.
“Ah, clearly you know our Jack.” Our Jack? “I’ll show you to his office. He said you should go straight in.”
She came around the reception desk and started down a wide hallway. Nikki pegged the woman to be in her mid-twenties, six or seven years younger than Nikki’s own age. She wore a tidy pantsuit in a rich chocolate-brown that matched her eyes, her blond hair styled in a short, sassy cut that drew attention to her pretty features. She paused outside a set of double doors and gave a quick tap with her knuckle before swinging them open.
“Nikki Thomas to see you.”
“Thanks, Lynn. You can shut down for the day.”
“Okay. See you Monday.” She offered Nikki another of her lovely smiles. “Nice meeting you, Ms. Thomas.”
Jack glanced up from the file spread across his desk and gestured toward one of the chairs opposite him. The instant she sat, he crossed to the doors and closed them. For some reason the gesture struck her as ominous, adding to a vague dread that had been building all day.
Had it only been this morning when she’d woken to his mouth and body on hers? To the laughter and joy of their impromptu joining? To the delicious, mind-numbing aftermath? She closed her eyes at the memory, but couldn’t seem to shut it down. Jack had carried her from their bed into the shower when the clock warned they’d be late for work if they didn’t get up. Their shower together had prompted more laughter when they’d bumped and brushed their way clean.
And then had been the saucy moments when she’d dressed in the royal blue panties and bra set she was currently wearing. He’d joked about stripping away the bits and pieces she busily slipped on and suggested something that had brought a flush to her cheeks, while tempting her beyond bearing. Now she wished she’d taken him up on the offer since she doubted that opportunity would ever come again.
Without a word, Jack resumed his seat behind his desk—a captain at the helm of his ship. She shot him a swift, searching glance, but his expression remained closed to her. More than anything she wanted to break through the wall of ice separating them. But he was a master at closing his emotions behind thick barriers, no doubt a result of his unconventional upbringing. She knew from personal experience just how rarely he allowed others in, and just how badly he’d taken her betrayal.
In an attempt to distract herself, Nikki studied her surroundings. Like the waiting area, his office also reflected a graciousness overlaid with subtle hints of wealth and prosperity. No doubt it went a long way toward selling the various services Carolina Shipping offered its clients. It struck her as vastly different from TKG, where the rooms were appealing, but more functional in appearance, underscored with the strong masculine accent Reginald Kincaid had preferred.
The minutes ticked by and still neither of them spoke. Or perhaps the tension thickening the room spoke for them, whispering of pain and loss, secrets and deception. Unable to stand the building storm another instant, Nikki broke the silence, no doubt what Jack had intended all along.
“I’m sorry, Jack. I should have told you that I worked for the Kincaids right from the start.” He didn’t answer, just studied her with those unnerving pale blue eyes of his, the sheer lack of emotion ripping through her. She set the file folder she’d brought for him on the edge of his desk and nudged it in his direction. “I brought my reports, as requested.”
His gaze flicked toward the folder then he stood again. This time he crossed to a wet bar and poured himself a drink. He glanced over his shoulder in her direction, lifting a dark eyebrow in clear question.
“No, thanks.” Impatient with the continued silence, she said, “Are you going to say anything at all?”
“Hoping to get it over with quick and painless? Sorry, sweetheart. You’re not getting off that easy.”
She flinched at his sarcasm. Exhaustion dragged at her. It had been an endless day which would no doubt morph into an equally endless night. Thank God it was Friday and she’d have the entire weekend to come to terms with all that had happened today. “Jack, I made a mistake,” she said in a low voice. “Are you really going to throw away what we have over a single omission?”
“What we have?” He took a long swallow of his drink. For the first time she caught a glimpse of his rage, the sheer depth and power of it leaving her shaken. “We have nothing. We had… Well, that’s a different story.”
Nikki blinked hard to hold back tears. “Please, Jack…”
“Don’t.” He slammed his drink against the wet bar, the cut glass tumbler singing in protest. “Just…don’t.”
“The Kincaids didn’t know how serious our relationship had become. Nor did they ask me to do anything illegal or unethical.”
Jack eyed her grimly. “You mean other than try to prove that I killed my father?”
Nikki shot to her feet. “Damn it, Jack. I know you didn’t kill Reginald. I doubt the Kincaids even believe it of you. You could never do such a thing. You and your father might have had your differences, but I know what sort of man you are.”
“And what sort of woman are you?”
“You know what sort.”
His eyes chilled, growing colder than she’d ever seen them. “I do now.”
Anger filled her, sweeping aside the tears. “I’ve never lied to you, Jack. Not about who I am or what’s in my heart. Do you really believe I could have faked my reaction to your touch? To your kiss?” She dared to approach, part of her hoping to push through his self-control while the other part of her dreaded what might happen if she succeeded. “That I was pretending when you made love to me?”
Something fired in his eyes, flickering to life and melting through the chill that encased him. She stood within touching distance, a vulnerable spot to be in considering the depth of his sense of betrayal. Even prepared, his sudden lunge caught her by surprise. With a growl that hovered somewhere between fury and demand, he snatched her into his arms. And then he kissed her.
Where before he’d been winter-cold, now he exploded with blistering heat, taking without hesitation, claiming all she was and all she had. His mouth moved across hers in a passion laced with unmistakable pain. Her heart went out to him because she knew she’d caused that pain and would have given everything she possessed to ease it. She gave him free rein, offering herself to him unconditionally and without hesitation.
He didn’t hold back, but she no longer cared. It had been like this from the start. From the first moment their eyes had met on a chilly winter evening while he’d been auctioned off before a crowd whose silence judged and ostracized him, there had been an irresistible spark. And later that evening when they’d talked, that spark had flickered into a flame, one that had leaped out of control the first time they touched. The first time they kissed—a kiss not that different from this one.
And when they’d gone on that initial date, her fate had been sealed. She could no more resist his pull than a wave could resist its tumbling journey to the shore. Even then she’d given him everything, despite the complications, knowing full well he was a man intent on destroying the Kincaids while Nikki was the one woman capable of stopping him.
Secrets. So many secrets.
Jack swept her into his arms and carried her to the sitting area of his office. There he lowered her to a plush sofa and followed her down. He kissed her again, slower this time, deeper, the passion thick and full and rich. She felt the slight tug and give of her suit jacket, followed by the cool wash of air across her skin before the heat of his hands replaced it, cupping her breasts through her bra.
“Show me that you want me,” he said. “Prove to me that it wasn’t an act.”
Two
Nikki closed her eyes, the overwhelming desire of seconds before fading beneath Jack’s clipped demand. “I have nothing to prove.” She pushed at his shoulders, not certain whether she was relieved or disappointed when he pulled back. “Either you believe me or you don’t. Either you believe in what we’ve felt for each other over the past four months or you don’t. It’s that simple.”
“It’s not that simple. You betrayed my trust.” He sat up, allowing her room to swing her legs onto the floor. “But I still want you. God knows why.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“You spied on me, Nikki. I can’t forgive that.”