Wrong Brother, Right Man

by Kat Cantrell

  “I need to talk to you about a...thing.”

  “I’ll see if I can squeeze you in.”

  It only took about fifteen minutes to drive from her office to LeBlanc, even with the midday traffic, but it felt like a million years. “A thing.” That could be any number of problems, and she wished he’d given her some kind of clue what they were dealing with here.

  When she strolled into Val’s office a little before two o’clock, he’d taken off his suit jacket and draped it along the back of his chair. When he glanced up at her from under his lashes, the long sensual pull in her center was so strong it rendered her mute for a moment.

  What was it about Val that was so affecting? Xavier had never plucked at her insides like this. And the two were practically identical in build and features. It was everything else that marked them as vastly different men. That was why she couldn’t go on a real date with Val; he made her feel too much, and that couldn’t be good.

  “What’s up?” she murmured because she had to say something to break the sudden and intense tension.

  “I talked to Jada.” Val pushed his rolled-up sleeves higher up his forearms. “She’s a no-go.”

  “She’s a...what?” Sabrina swallowed and pushed back all the inappropriate longings for her client. This was what happened when she lost her focus. “She didn’t look like a no-go last night. What happened?”

  “The auction idea happened. She doesn’t have any pieces that she thinks will work for that.”

  His voice seemed even and sure, but she heard the slightest rasp of hesitation in his tone, as if he’d paused before blurting out something he didn’t think he should. She knew that pause. It was the sound of a man with secrets.

  She pounced on it, watching him carefully for other tells. They all had them. “What did she say would work then?”

  There. Val’s mouth twitched. “She didn’t.”

  He was lying. She could feel it in her spine, where the greasy oil slick started to spread, leaching into her stomach lining where it would begin to eat away at her. Oh, thank God she had listened to her instincts and stayed far away from getting intimate with Val.

  “So you called her to say you had some ideas, and she shot them all down and then hung up. Is that what happened?”

  He cocked his head, and one long strand of hair fell into his eyes. “Something like that. Is that a problem?”

  That’s right. Turn it back on me so I don’t ask too many questions that would expose your lies. Val was just like all the rest. “I don’t see why you’re taking all of this so calmly. This is your inheritance on the line. Seems like you’re the one who should be having a problem.”

  “That’s why I called you. It’s definitely a problem.”

  His expression was so flat. She couldn’t get a bead on what was happening here, and the uncertainty prickled across her neck. Why couldn’t he be truthful? “Then tell me what we should do about it.”

  “I’m not sure what to do. I can’t admit that to them.” He jerked his head to the office full of people outside his door. “They’re looking to me for answers, not more questions. I need to increase revenue, and Jada Ness should have been the ticket. I can’t get her for the price she’s asking.”

  His willingness to be vulnerable with her struck her sideways. What on earth was he lying about then? “Wait. I thought she gave you a flat no. What was her price?”

  All at once, Val stood, unwinding from his chair. He came around the desk into her space, at the same time spilling his masculine vibe into places inside her. That shouldn’t be a thing, but it wouldn’t work to deny that she had a physical reaction when he got this close.

  Watching him walk shouldn’t be such a treat. He barely took three steps to get to where she stood in the center of the room. But he moved with such purpose. Lots of men did, but usually they were moving toward the next target. He moved for the sole purpose of showcasing his body and how comfortable he was in it.

  He should put the jacket on. Without it, he was entirely too touchable. The bare skin on his forearms begged for her fingers, and she nearly reached out before remembering that he’d yet to answer her.

  Neither did he seem in a hurry to talk about Jada Ness’s price.

  “I’m afraid I lied,” he murmured out of the blue.

  Of course he had. This was not news. He was a man, wasn’t he? The real front-page story lay in the fact that he’d admitted it without her calling him on it.

  Which mattered not at all. She could not deal with lies. Disappointed that her radar hadn’t fizzled in the slightest, she contemplated him. “About what?”

  “I didn’t call you to talk about Jada. I wanted to see you.”

  Oh. That wasn’t precisely a lie. Her ire dissolved in a hurry, and the earnestness in his expression melted her spine a little. The touch of his palm on her jaw did the rest of the trick. “You could have just told me that.”

  What was it about him that had her so mixed up and off-kilter? No other man had so quickly gotten back into her good graces. He wasn’t a liar and a cheat, and she’d do well to remember not to paint him with the brush for other men. It wasn’t fair to Val.

  He laughed softly. “Yeah, because you have such a good track record of accepting it when I reach out to you on a personal level.”

  “Maybe you’re not reaching far enough.”

  His brows rose, and the palm on her jaw flattened to cup it with a bit more purpose, as if he meant to draw her forward into a kiss. She stared at him, daring him to read into her statement. But this was Val, who didn’t have to be goaded into anything.

  His thumb brushed across her lips a moment before his mouth did, and she fell into the kiss with abandon that had no place in a busy office building. She didn’t care. They were insulated here behind closed doors in this oasis of Val’s domain, and everything faded away as he deepened the kiss, shifting her head with his firm hand. The noise she made in her throat was pure pleasure as Val washed through her, enlivening everything he touched—which was all of her.

  Heat bloomed in her center and rushed outward, gobbling up her insides as it spread.

  It was almost enough to make her forget that this expert kiss had also served to change the subject. Should she care that Val had such slick moves? She tried to. But then he levered her mouth open with his and claimed her, his tongue hot with need against hers, and she didn’t protest when he swept her into his arms. The embrace aligned them perfectly, and he rubbed a thigh against hers with so much intensity that she saw stars.

  A small taste of what he had in store for her if she got over herself and went to dinner like a normal person. She could handle this. There was no reason Val had to be anything special. Get In and Get Out could still be the order of the day, no matter how effective his seduction techniques were.

  A knock on the door split them apart instantly. Val stepped back, dropping his hands from her waist, and she hated the loss of his touch so much that she almost whirled to take the interloper to task.

  But of course she couldn’t. Instead, she smoothed her hands over her skirt, hoping that her lipstick wasn’t smeared all over her face. Fortunately, she hadn’t left any of it on Val’s, so that was a small win.

  Val’s admin poked her head in the door. “Oh, hello, Ms. Corbin. I didn’t realize you were here. Sorry for the interruption. Mr. LeBlanc, Karl Bruner asked me to move the New England meeting. He’s going to be out of the office next week. The only opening you have is now, so I told him I’d check. I can tell him to reschedule if you like.”

  “No, I’m free. Send the meeting details to my calendar.”

  The admin nodded and disappeared. Within seconds, Val’s phone buzzed.

  “Duty calls,” Sabrina said wryly. She shouldn’t be wishing they could pick up that kiss where they left off. Where could it lead in the middle of the day?

  Asking t
hat question led to nothing other than wondering what he could do with a Friday night with no interruption. No. She was not considering dinner.

  “Come to the meeting with me.” His dark eyes flashed. “I’d hoped to have time to talk to you about this New England situation before, but obviously the timing leaves a lot to be desired.”

  His tone tripped her radar. “You have a concern about it? What’s the situation?”

  Grimly, he shook his head. “That division is hemorrhaging money. The meeting is with division management and the CFO to talk numbers. I don’t know what they’re going to ultimately decide, but apparently Xavier has already approved whatever measures it takes to get the division under control.”

  “Guess what? He’s not here. You are. You get to decide.”

  How many times was she going to have to explain this to him? He didn’t have a domineering bone in his body. Instead, he seduced and conquered. Not a bad strategy all the way around, but it wasn’t one he could use on LeBlanc’s c-suite. He had to come out swinging and keep swinging until he hit the ball out of the park.

  Flashing her a brief smile, he snagged her hand. “This is why you need to be in the room. To remind me that I have the gold, so I get to make the rules.”

  “I’m not going to speak up in the middle of a tense meeting about a failing division!”

  “What if I ask you to? I’m in charge.” His lips quirked. “Right? I get to decide whether you speak, and I say you do. Can’t have it both ways.”

  “Fine.”

  Had that come out too quickly? Secretly, she could hardly hold in her glee. This would be an opportunity for her to experience a real, live meeting with executives. She rarely got so lucky as to see both her coaching mentee in action and an unfiltered corporate problem-solving session designed to get results.

  But she couldn’t walk into the room holding the CEO’s hand. She pulled hers loose and followed him to the meeting room specified on his calendar, donning the most professional expression she could muster. Difficult given that she’d just been kissed by the man taking the head chair. He’d shrugged on his jacket as they left the office and, no, it was not better.

  Val looked sexy as sin in a suit. Or out of one. Heat flushed through her face and her body simultaneously as she tried valiantly to erase the images that had sprung into her mind.

  But that wasn’t going to happen, she reminded herself. Ever. He was a client, the brother of an ex, a dangerous, passionate player who probably didn’t even know how to spell monogamy. She had rules about all of the above for good reason.

  But, all of a sudden, she couldn’t remember why.

  The rest of the meeting invitees filed into the boardroom, shooting her curious glances, but no one said anything. They all knew who she was and likely had guessed why she’d been asked to attend. Val had been extremely open about his coaching sessions—against her advice—but that decision worked in her favor here since she was storming into their realm unannounced.

  “Karl.” Val addressed the middle-aged man in a silver suit about halfway down the table. “You asked to move this meeting. I assume there’s a pressing reason we need to discuss New England.”

  From her research, Sabrina knew Karl Bruner helmed the division as its vice-president. The grim slashes of his eyebrows told her he hadn’t brought good news to the meeting. She listened as he spelled out the bleak bottom line, citing a rival chain of jewelers who were eating LeBlanc’s lunch in same-store sales and had expansion plans that LeBlanc couldn’t hope to match, given that their existing retail outlets weren’t even turning a profit.

  The whole discussion thrilled her, or it would if the direction hadn’t put a crimp in Val’s mouth that she didn’t like. He’d probably followed the money talk well enough, but she could see in the set of his shoulders that he didn’t have any good suggestions to turn the tide.

  The CFO cleared his throat. “I hate to bring it up again. But we need to talk closure.”

  Karl Bruner steepled his fingers. “That’s the easy way out. Cutting our losses will put LeBlanc in the black, sure, but it will ultimately hurt our image as a family-friendly employer.”

  “What are you saying?” Val interrupted, a shadow darkening his eyes. “Closing stores is an option? As in layoffs?”

  He spat the word out as if it had been mixed with poison, and the vibe in the room grew teeth. The other executives glanced at each other with discomfort and uneasiness. Sabrina sat on her hands. Not her business if this meeting was about to get dirty.

  It was a legit strategy, though. One she’d missed as having been on the table, since this was the first she’d heard of it. But that path had Xavier written all over it. Probably it had been his first choice.

  The CFO nodded. “It’s not ideal. There would be severance costs and asset liquidation. But the numbers work on paper to put us on the positive side for the year.”

  That was the wrong thing to say. Val stood and carefully placed his hands on the table to lean in, speaking to the room at large. “Let me give you some numbers, Alvin. Three: the average number of kids a single mother is looking to feed when she comes to my food pantry. Twelve: the number of hours between meals for most homeless people. Twenty: the average nighttime low in the northeast during winter, which is fatal if you don’t have a place to live. When you don’t have a job, these numbers are your life in some instances. One instance is too many. If you like those numbers, I have some more.”

  The other executives blinked, but Sabrina had a feeling it was due to the unexpected turn the conversation had taken and not because they were fighting tears the way she was.

  Passion flowed from Val as he spoke. It wound through the very atmosphere, painting a bleak picture with a small ray of hope that he personally gave people. She’d never donated to a place like LBC before, but it shot to the top of her to-do list. Val knew these stats off the top of his head because he lived it. He cared. LBC wasn’t just a job to him, nor could he treat LeBlanc like one.

  Willing him to take a step back, she sent him messages via osmosis that would likely never hit the mark, but neither did she think she should step in, not even to tell him to table the discussion for another day. She had a much greater respect for his passion now than she ever had, but making emotional decisions about corporate health wasn’t the best plan. He needed to cool off.

  Fortunately, the chief operations officer either caught her silent messages or had already arrived at the conclusion that nothing more would be decided today. He raised his hands, which had the effect of drawing everyone’s attention away from Val. “We clearly need some more raw numbers to present to the group. I think speaking in abstracts is not the best plan. Alvin,” he said to the CFO. “Get us a projection of where the sale of those assets would put us for the year. Facts speak the loudest. We’ll reconvene after Karl’s surgery.”

  “My answer will not change,” Val said flatly. Clearly he had not intercepted Sabrina’s subliminal messages. “I will never agree to layoffs. Period.”

  Val crossed his arms, looking every inch like a man who would fight these store closures with every fiber of his being, and her heart cracked, opening up and greedily sucking him in. It didn’t matter what the numbers said. He’d weighed everything against his ideals and, even though it affected his inheritance directly, he’d stuck with what he knew was the right thing. That was powerful. Sexy. Affecting. Much more so than a man who cut a wide swath through the corporate world while seeking his own ambition.

  Valentino LeBlanc was absolutely not her type. He was better.

  Ten

  Val canceled his sessions with Sabrina for the rest of the week in favor of diving into the numbers the CFO had provided for the New England assets. It was a toss-up whether the absence of Sabrina or being forced to review accounting reports for hours was harder to take.

  The numbers sucked. No two ways about it—the div
ision had been poorly managed for quite some time. At LBC, most of the people involved were volunteers and Val rarely had to deal with personnel issues.

  How did Xavier do this on a regular basis and keep his stomach lining intact? Nerves of steel. Practice. A gift for compartmentalizing. Whatever the secret, Val didn’t have it.

  And there was something completely wrong with the world if Val could find even a smidge of admiration for his brother. There were no heroics involved—Xavier had a deep freeze where his heart used to be, obviously. No mystery there. The real mystery lay in how his brother would survive at LBC, where being coldhearted wasn’t considered a virtue.

  For the tenth or twelfth time in the last hour, Val reached for his phone to call Sabrina. And yet again didn’t dial, even though hearing her voice might steady him. There was little she could coach him on at the moment and, frankly, he didn’t need the distraction. New England was hard enough to handle without splitting his attention.

  Though he couldn’t claim to be 100 percent focused, not when he had a date tomorrow night with Ms. Corbin. No, he wasn’t deluded enough to call it that to her face or even bring it up again. That gave her an opening to say no. He’d already blocked his calendar so he could leave the office early and go grocery shopping. Nothing short of a government ban on diamonds would be allowed to interfere. And even that could theoretically wait until Monday.

  The desk phone beeped, then his admin’s voice spilled from the speaker. “Mr. LeBlanc, you have a visitor. A Ms. Ness. She doesn’t have an appointment.”

  The hint of disapproval in Mrs. Bryce’s voice pulled a smile out of him. Ms. Ness must either be wearing something shocking, or she’d said something inappropriate. Or both, if his introduction to the woman had borne even a hint of her regular personality. “That’s okay. Send her in.”

  What a fascinating development. He’d all but written off the idea of landing Jada Ness for LeBlanc, given that his last conversation with her hadn’t gone well. She’d used the words no and way far too much for his taste. But that had only been because he’d kept their conversation about business, with great difficulty. She hadn’t liked that, and he’d opted to let her cool off for a few days before darkening her door, figuratively speaking, for the next round.