by Heidi Betts
“Better than a honeymoon, Soon-to-be Mrs. Houghton,” he replied. The use of those names—Mr. and Soon-to-be Mrs.—had become a bit of an inside joke with them. The wedding was only a week away, and yet they couldn’t seem to wait to be tied to each other in every way possible.
Lifting his arm, he studied the face of his expensive watch. “One hour. I’m counting down. If you haven’t said goodbye to your family by then, I’m tossing you over my shoulder and carrying you off caveman-style.”
A shiver stole through her at the thought of that. It might be worth shocking her mother and brother and sisters—not to mention their significant others—just to see if he really would do as he threatened…and then reap the benefits of those Neanderthal-ish tendencies of his.
Leaning up on tiptoe, she put her mouth to his ear and whispered, “If you keep looking at me like that, I might just let you.”
Her reward was a deep growl and his hands coming up to squeeze her bottom possessively. She chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to his rugged cheek and breaking away to get in as much family time as he would allow before following through on his warning.
Oh, Eli was definitely the man for her. It might have taken her half her life to admit it and then work up the courage to claim him as her own, but now that she had him…
She was never, ever letting go.
* * * * *
Turn the page for an exclusive short story
by USA TODAY bestselling author Day Leclaire.
Then look for the next installment of
DYNASTIES: THE KINCAIDS
ONE DANCE WITH THE SHEIKH,
by Tessa Radley.
Wherever Harlequin Books are sold.
THE KINCAIDS: JACK AND NIKKI
PART IV
“You’ve been so quiet.”
Jack Sinclair joined Nikki Thomas on the deck off his beach house bedroom. Coming up behind her, he encircled her with his arms. The long, lovely sweep of her back fit perfectly against his chest and the sweet curve of her backside shifted against him, arousing him in a way no other woman had. Ever. Why her, and no one else?
“I guess I have a lot on my mind,” she admitted.
“Work?”
A tiny sigh escaped her, sounding almost painful in its intensity. “Always.”
Together they watched the rising moon sit on the line of rolling breakers, huge and squat, as though attempting to keep the restless sea under control. Of course, that was no more possible than controlling the desperation that exploded between them whenever they came together. The violent need and endless yearning had governed their two-month-long affair. And while Jack suspected they’d both anticipated it would fade over time, it only grew stronger with each passing week.
Nikki was his. Had been his since she first appeared beneath the balcony of the Read and Write literacy auction where she’d bid a thousand dollars for a single dinner date with him—as well as a wish of her choice. Of course, that one date had led to two months of dates, her wish not yet made or fulfilled. She’d continued to be his over that time, their headlong tumble one neither had anticipated.
The moon crept higher into the night sky, silvering a slice of the dark ocean and playing across the foam capping the surging waves. Nikki turned to Jack, wrapped him up in bewitching feminine warmth, then gently, tenderly fit her mouth to his. He felt the heat of passion beneath the softness, knew it would take no more than a simple nudge to move it up a notch. But for some reason, he simply wanted to enjoy the slow, easy slide that spoke of more than sex. That acknowledged the build of a relationship that fired on levels he never thought possible.
He filled his lungs with her sigh of pleasure and teased inward between her parted lips. Sank into her. Relished the sweetness and generosity. Her openness. She initiated a lazy dance, one he followed just as lazily. They drifted across the deck toward the French doors leading to his bedroom. The moon followed them, lighting a silvery pathway. It frosted her skin, giving it a pearlescent gleam and slipped through her thin silk nightgown to outline glorious womanly curves that tempted him beyond reason.
“I’m sorry if I’ve been a little out of it.” She slanted him an amused look, her sapphire-blue eyes glinting in the moonlight. “If it makes you feel any better I’m all here now.”
“Well… I was going to suggest you lay back and think of England, but I’m not quite sure what that has to do with my future plans for you.”
She chuckled. “I believe that was a suggestion given to British women during the Victorian Era when it came to fulfilling their marital obligations.” Her arms tightened around his neck and she caught his lower lip between his teeth, giving it a light tug. “The only thing I plan to think about is you and just what I’m going to do to you.”
His voice deepened. Roughened. “And what’s that?”
Nikki lifted on tiptoe and put her mouth close to Jack’s ear, the warmth of her breath threatening the last of his control. Then her whispered suggestions totally shredded it. A growl rumbled through his chest and he snatched her into his arms and dumped her onto the bed. He ripped her nightgown from her body, made short work of his own sweats and was over and in her welcoming body with a speed that left them both gasping. His name clung to her damp, swollen lips, her want for him burning in her gaze, her unstinting response to his possession driving him to new heights.
He couldn’t get enough of this woman. Didn’t think he’d ever get enough. As though she could read his thoughts, she moaned in pleasure. “More. No matter how much or how often, I’m always ready for more.” She cupped his face, took everything he offered and gave all she had in return. “Only with you. Always with you.”
And somehow Jack suspected it would be that way for the rest of their lives.
* * *
“Nikki, are you paying attention?”
She jumped, her gaze flashing to RJ Kincaid’s, guilt sweeping through her. Oh, damn. What had he asked? She did a quick rewind, relieved to discover that her brain had been recording the conversation, despite her distraction. Police update. He wanted a police update on the investigation into his father’s murder.
“I’ve spoken to Detective McDonough about the camera surveillance discovered showing Jack Sinclair’s vintage Aston Martin parked at a lot near The Kincaid Group at the time of your father’s death.”
“Why isn’t Sinclair in custody?” RJ demanded, the fierce expression in his eyes identical to Jack’s—as well as to their father’s. They were half brothers, “the Legitimates,” as Jack referred to them, Reginald Kincaid’s legal offspring, while Jack was the product of a decades-long affair with Angela Sinclair, Reginald’s mistress. “The police were quick enough to arrest my mother on far less evidence.”
Nikki couldn’t help it. She flinched at the idea of Jack being dragged off to jail in handcuffs. He wasn’t guilty. There wasn’t a single doubt in her mind. You couldn’t share such an intimate relationship with a man and not know who he was at his core. And while he might be one of the most ruthless men she’d ever met, clearly bent on revenge against his half siblings, that revenge would take a legal form. Like taking over the family business thanks to the forty-five percent interest he’d inherited in TKG upon his father’s death. Of course, if he managed to win control of the business, his first act would be to fire RJ, Matthew and Laurel Kincaid.
Nikki sighed. “I’ve been in touch with Charles—Detective McDonough.” He and her late father had been partners for years, before her father had gone down in the line of duty. “Jack claims he was at work at the time of your father’s murder and has a number of employees who back him up.”
RJ paced the length of the conference room, moving with all the grace and frustration of a caged panther, strengthening his resemblance to his half brother. How many times had she seen Jack pace like that while snapping instructions into his cell phone in regard to his own business, Carolina Shipping, a direct competitor to The Kincaid Group?
“Sinclair’s guilty. We all know it. It has
to be him. He must have found out about the forty-five percent share of TKG he stood to inherit. God knows, he’s been after revenge for years because my father refused to publicly recognize Sinclair as his son. And when he wasn’t good enough to beat us by pitting his business against ours, head-to-head, he killed Dad in order to take revenge the only way left to him.”
More than anything, Nikki longed to argue with him. But she didn’t dare. She was The Kincaid Group’s corporate investigator and it was her job to research Jack on their behalf. She’d been given the assignment after the two of them had met at the literacy bachelor auction for Read and Write, and for the past two months she’d walked a tightrope between her feelings for Jack versus her obligations to her employer.
Even worse, Reginald Kincaid had hired her after she’d been unjustly fired by her previous employer. Reginald had believed in her when no one else had. She owed him then and still felt an unshakable loyalty and obligation to the family and business he left behind.
She took her time responding to RJ, allowing her gaze to drift over the three Kincaid siblings currently gathered in the conference room. “While I understand your feelings, the police need evidence. You want your father’s killer found. That’s only natural. But if you insist they focus their attention in any one direction you run the risk of having them miss something that would lead them to the person responsible. Is it Jack?” She lifted her shoulder in as casual a shrug as she could pull off. “It’s possible, though current evidence is to the contrary.”
“It’s Jack,” RJ snapped.
Matt gave a slow nod. She caught a hint of sympathy in his gaze and knew why. He was aware she’d gone out with Jack, as was Laurel. In fact, Laurel knew just how deeply their involvement went. Only RJ remained oblivious. Oh, he was aware they’d dated because of the Read and Write auction. Matt had even asked her to use the time she spent with him to form an opinion of the man and obtain any and all possible information. But she doubted any of them realized just how far the relationship had progressed.
And once they knew?
She released her breath in a silent sigh. She’d be out of a job again. Worse, the instant Jack found out she was a Kincaid employee, what had become an incandescent affair would fizzle like a wet firecracker. And where would she end up? Without Jack and without a job. Probably served her right for not coming clean with both parties.
But how could she? More than anything she hoped to prove to the Kincaids that Jack didn’t deserve their enmity. Just as she hoped to coax Jack into giving his half brothers and sisters a chance. To see if he couldn’t form—if not a familial relationship with them—then at least a cordial relationship, one that would prompt him to drop his plan of revenge…which at the current moment was to utterly destroy the Kincaids.
She gave RJ a calm, direct look. “You know I am totally committed to finding out who murdered your father. Totally committed,” she repeated. “And I will continue to do everything Detective McDonough will allow in order to help the police with their investigation, as well as research every possible avenue available to me independently.”
Some of the tension eased from RJ’s body. “Well, I can’t ask for more than that, can I?”
Laurel cleared her throat. She was a gorgeous woman who had inherited her striking bone structure, vivid green eyes and deep, auburn hair from her mother, Elizabeth. She spared Nikki a brief, sympathetic glance before addressing her brothers. “We’re all frustrated. We expected this to be resolved long ago. We have a board meeting coming up in less than two months that will decide the fate of The Kincaid Group, which has us all on edge.” This time she addressed Nikki. “I appreciate everything you’ve done. When you’re personally involved in the situation, it’s very difficult to maintain an emotional distance.”
Nikki winced. Okay, she could read between those lines. “Is there anything else?” she asked quietly.
RJ released a long sigh. “No, there’s nothing else.” He offered a swift, charming smile. “Sorry if I came down too hard on you. You’re doing a great job.”
But she wasn’t. How could she when she remained so conflicted? She’d just do the best she could for everyone involved and hope that Charles McDonough found the real murderer. Laurel paused long enough to give her a brief hug.
“Hang in there. This will all work out,” she whispered before exiting. “Sometimes you just have to decide to follow your heart instead of doing what everyone expects of you.”
Nikki closed her eyes, tears pressing hard. If only she could believe that. How she longed to believe that. But somehow she suspected the situation would get far worse before it ever got better.
If it ever got better.
* * *
“I’ve already told you, Detective,” Jack stated evenly. “I was here at the time my father was murdered.”
Charles McDonough nodded. He was a strong, well-dressed black man with a gleaming shaved head, and calm, serious dark eyes that reflected his intelligence and determination. “Unfortunately for you, Mr. Sinclair, no one was actually in the room with you.”
Jack fought back a flash of impatience. “Granted, my employees weren’t in my office every minute of that time, but I couldn’t have left the building without being seen or been gone as long as it must have taken without someone noticing my absence.”
Charles gave another slow nod and made a notation in his neat, tidy handwriting. “You do have a private exit,” he observed.
Jack fought back a flash of temper, well aware it wouldn’t help his case. “True. But I never used it that night, certainly not to murder my own father.”
“And yet your Aston Martin was in a lot near The Kincaid Group headquarters at the time of the murder.” The detective’s gaze locked with Jack’s, piercing straight through him, warning of a dogged and unrelenting nature. “Did you loan your car to someone?”
“No.”
“Have you ever loaned that car to someone else?”
“Never.”
Charles smiled, for the first time revealing the man beneath the cop. “Don’t blame you,” he said. “Don’t think I’d let anyone so much as breathe on it.”
Jack relaxed enough to return the smile. “Men can be foolish about their toys.”
“Yes.” And suddenly the cop was back. “So explain how one of your toys—a toy you don’t allow anyone else to touch—turned up where it shouldn’t have been? If you didn’t drive it elsewhere that night, then someone else had possession of your keys or ignition fob. That someone was able to enter your company parking lot and remove your car with no one stopping or questioning him. And then he returned both the car and the keys, with you none the wiser. I find that…odd. Don’t you?”
“The lot isn’t gated.”
“And the keys?”
Jack shook his head. “Detective, I can’t explain it, as I’m sure you’re aware. I can only repeat that I was here, working on a special project. I’ve given you the name of the employees who were with me at that time helping with the Berner project. Most were in and out of this office at various times during the evening. It was common knowledge that I planned to work late that night. In fact, I was working late most nights due to a large, complicated project. My car was in its usual place when I finished for the night and left the building. I can’t explain how it was spotted in a parking lot near The Kincaid Group at that particular time unless it was someone else’s Aston Martin. I assume you’ve considered that possibility and already ruled it out.”
McDonough didn’t confirm or deny the assumption. He simply nodded, flipped his notebook closed and stood. “Please remain available, Mr. Sinclair. I’m sure I’ll have more questions in the near future.”
The Southern version of “don’t leave town.” “Of course,” Jack agreed and stood as well. The two men shook hands before the detective departed.
The second McDonough departed, Jack’s assistant entered the office and dropped a file on his desk. “Hang in there, boss. This will all work out,” she s
aid with a sympathetic look.
He spared her a brief smile. “Thanks, Gail.”
He wanted to believe that. Really wanted to believe it. But somehow he suspected the situation would get far worse before it ever got better.
If it ever got better.
* * *
Nikki exited The Kincaid Group office building, just as Elizabeth Kincaid and two of her daughters, Lily and Kara, approached. All were chatting and laughing. As the women drew level, Elizabeth paused and introduced her daughters, though Nikki had already met Lily at the bachelor auction back in January. Elizabeth appeared relaxed and energized, a far cry from the anguished, drawn woman of the past four months. No doubt it was due to her being released from police custody for the murder of her late husband, Reginald.
“Kara is an events planner,” Elizabeth explained. “She owns Prestige Events.”
Nikki smiled warmly. “I’ve heard wonderful things about your company.”
“And she’s engaged,” Lily added. Her blue eyes gleamed with mischief. “To Eli Houghton. They marry this next weekend.”
“But, I thought—” Nikki blinked. Last she’d heard Eli’s engagement to Laurel had ended less than a month before. Since then he and Kara had apparently fallen in love—because it was crystal clear that the bubbly middle daughter was ecstatically happy. Since everyone else appeared equally happy, Nikki could only assume it had been an amicable transfer of bridegrooms. “Best wishes, Kara,” she said and meant it.
“Thanks. We’re about to go drag Laurel away from her desk and finalize wedding plans over food and drinks. She’s offered to be my maid of honor.”
With a cheerful wave, the women continued on their way.
She felt genuinely happy for the Kincaids. They’d been through a terrible ordeal. But now that Elizabeth had been released on bail, Nikki worried that Jack would become the center of the investigative whirlwind. There simply weren’t that many people who benefitted from Reginald’s demise. Clearly, Jack was the forerunner in that regard and she knew, both from what Charles McDonough had said—as well as what he hadn’t said—that the police were looking long and hard at Reginald’s eldest son.