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They chatted more innocuously about Charleston and their favorite music while the sun set and plunged them into the familiar velvety darkness. They swept the plates and glasses back inside. “Should we wash the dishes?” Brooke glanced at them where they lay on the counter. RJ had already disappeared into the next room.
“Don’t worry about them. Come relax.”
Brooke shrugged and followed him into the living room. It was hard to remember she was his guest, not his assistant right now. She hated leaving loose ends but maybe that was part of becoming the kind of person who managed others, rather than one who did everything themselves. RJ had changed the conversation rather deftly after her mention that she’d like to go into management, but maybe he just didn’t want to be reminded of the office when he was trying to relax.
RJ leaned over a sleek device, and suddenly the room filled with music. Ella Fitzgerald, mellow and sultry. He looked up and smiled. “I thought we should dance.”
Excitement stirred in her chest, along with a flutter of nerves. “Sure.”
Dancing would get them close. Closeness would get them … RJ wound his arms around her waist. She could feel the heat of his body through his thin shirt. His back muscles moved under her hands as they swayed to the music. He pulled her against him and soon the rise and fall of her breath matched his. Or was it the other way around?
The song ended and another started, while they moved slowly around the big room. Dancing this way with RJ felt oddly natural, unhurried and relaxing. Arousal crept through her like wine, making her giddy but happy. They didn’t even kiss until the third song started. RJ’s lips brushed hers. Their mouths melded together slowly, tongues meeting and mingling.
Her chest pressed against his, her nipples tightening against his hard muscle. Their hips swayed in rhythm and his hands roamed over her back. By the fifth song the kiss deepened to the point where their feet stopped moving. She felt RJ’s fingers tugging at the hem of her shirt, then sliding over her skin. She shivered with pleasure and let her fingers roam into his waistband.
Soon they were plucking at each other’s shirt buttons and pressing bare skin to bare skin. The music wrapped around them as RJ guided her onto the sofa and together they eased off her jeans. Her body throbbed with desire that gave urgency to her movements. The zipper of his pants got stuck as she tried to undo it and she found herself struggling with desperation that would be funny if she wasn’t so … desperate!
RJ took over and together they shed his pants then wrapped themselves into each other on the wide surface of the sofa. RJ’s big body fit perfectly around hers. His muscled arms held her close and his strong legs and hard abs made her pulse quicken.
Was she really lying semi-naked on a sofa with RJ Kincaid? Perhaps this was one of her more elaborate fantasies getting out of hand?
But his hot breath on her neck felt so real. So did the broad fingers slipping inside her delicate panties, and the lips closing over her nipples through the lace of her bra. Brooke gasped when he sucked on her nipple and sensation shot through her. She pushed her fingers into his thick hair and gave herself over to the sensation, arching her back and pressing her pelvis against him.
They both still wore their underwear, but she could feel RJ’s intense arousal through his cotton boxers, and soon found her hands pushing down the elastic waistband and reaching for his erection. She shivered when she discovered how hard he was, how ready.
“Let’s go into the bedroom.” RJ’s voice was thick with need. Without waiting for her response he picked her up in his strong arms and carried her across the room. Supported by his strong body, Brooke felt weightless and desirable. RJ swept her into his bedroom, and laid her gently on the soft duvet.
“You’re so beautiful.” His gaze roamed over her body, making her skin tingle with excitement. He caressed her skin, starting at her shoulder and trailing his fingertips over her lacy bra and along her waist. When he reached her skimpy panties he hooked a finger into each side and slid them slowly over her legs, devouring her with his gaze as he pulled them down to her toes.
Excitement built in her chest as she waited for him to finish. Then he rose back over her and she leaned forward while he unhooked her bra and released her breasts. He kissed each freshly bared nipple and cooled it with a flash of his tongue. Breath coming faster, she pushed his boxers down over his thighs.
At last they were both naked. RJ climbed over her, kissing her face and murmuring how pretty her eyes were, and how soft her hair. The simple compliments made her feel like a goddess. She let her fingers roam over the thick, roping muscles of his arms and back and wished she could find words to admire them, but words deserted her as sensation overtook her body.
He entered her very gently, kissing her as he sank deep. Brooke arched against him, relishing the feel of him inside her, his powerful arms wrapped around her. The weight of his body settled over her, pushing her into the mattress as she clung to him.
“Oh, RJ.” The words slipped from her mouth as she brushed his rough cheek with her lips. She’d waited years for this moment. She could feel him inside her, hard, yet so gentle as he moved with her.
A shiver of pleasure crept over her as he slid deeper, and she felt herself opening up to him. She snuck a peek at his face, and their eyes met in a single, electric moment. The expression on his face was almost pained, so intense, his blue eyes stormy with emotion.
Brooke felt her heart swell with feeling for this man. So strong and capable, he led the company with such energy and pride, and at this moment his entire being focused on her. His arms wrapped around her, enveloping her in their protective warmth, while he moved with precision and passion.
“You’re an amazing woman, Brooke.” His whispered words stirred something deep inside her. He shifted slightly, sending arrows of pleasure darting through her. Was she amazing? She certainly felt special right now.
Or were they both just caught up in the moment? Or in the madness that had brought her into his arms that night in his office.
A ripple of fear made her hold him tighter. “I’m not amazing.” She couldn’t bear for him to be making love to some imaginary woman who had nothing to do with the real Brooke Nichols. “I’m just … me.”
RJ paused for a moment and their eyes met. Again that fierce gaze almost stole her breath. “You’re amazing because you are just exactly you. The most beautiful, capable, sweet, organized, sexy and irresistible woman I’ve ever met.”
A giggle rose in her chest. “That’s quite a mix of adjectives.”
“You’re a unique person.” He brushed soft kisses over her cheek and the bridge of her nose, making her smile. “And it’s my very great pleasure to be sharing this bed with you.” His penis stirred inside her, sparking a ripple of laughter along with a rush of erotic pleasure.
Her eyes slid closed as she kissed him on the mouth, drinking in the rich taste of him. She’d imagined moments like this, but not that she’d feel so totally swept away on a tide of intense pleasure.
RJ’s strong arms eased them into a new position where she was sitting in his lap. As they moved together, the powerful penetration took her deeper into the mysterious otherworld they shared. RJ’s hands on her skin, his thighs wrapped around her, his hair brushing her forehead …
Feelings raced through her. She wanted to shout, or cry. I love him. The thought flashed in her brain and she held him tighter. Is it just my body talking? Her brain grappled with powerful emotion while her body clung to his, moving with him in a thick sea of pleasure.
I love you, RJ.
She let her mind release the thought, though she didn’t allow her lips to voice it. It was enough for her to know. She didn’t want to throw pressure at him and ruin this beautiful moment. She’d never felt closer to anyone, and maybe she never would again.
For now, it was precious.
Her climax crept over her gradually, starting with little waves that lapped at her fingers and toes, and ending in a big breaker that crashed over her.
RJ joined her, exploding with a gruff cry, crushing her against his chest and pressing his face to hers as they collapsed back on the bed. Overwhelmed by sensation and emotion, she lay limp in his arms.
“I don’t remember the last time I felt this good.” RJ cradled her, stroking her softly. “You’re a miracle.”
Brooke’s chest, already bursting with happiness, almost exploded. Being here with RJ felt so absolutely right. It seemed odd that they hadn’t come together earlier, when they were so perfect for each other. He stroked her cheek and she sighed. She’d made RJ feel good, too. Maybe that was the best part of all.
Lying here in his embrace she could imagine them living happily as a couple. They’d worked together successfully for five years, which was quite an accomplishment already. They’d always got on and never argued, and he obviously respected her opinion. “I’m glad I dragged you out of that meeting and plied you with liquor.”
“Me, too. Not many people would have dared.” He kissed her cheek softly and nuzzled against her. Again her chest swelled with joy. “You’re a brave woman, Brooke Nichols.”
She was, wasn’t she? Not many women would chance a weekend away with their boss. For a moment the familiar doubts started to creep back in. How would they behave at the office? Would he be affectionate or would they go back to professional cordiality? What would she do if he kissed her in front of the other employees?
She blushed just thinking about it. She’d love it, of course. She’d be so proud and happy to be RJ Kincaid’s girlfriend. A dream come true. And here she was, living it.
They kissed, then dressed and went to enjoy more music and dancing, then undressed and made love again. This time they fell asleep together, with seductive music still throbbing away in the living room. Brooke slept deeply, totally relaxed and at ease in RJ’s arms.
In the morning she awoke with an odd mix of anticipation and anxiety. They had two whole days to spend together with no interruptions.
Then again, what if they had nothing to talk about? What if he grew bored with her?
“Morning, gorgeous.” RJ pressed a kiss to the back of her neck.
“Hi.” A wave of pleasure lapped over her at the touch of his lips and her doubts scattered. “Did you sleep okay?”
“Never slept better in my life. You’re the best medicine in the world.”
She smiled. “I’m glad. Last night was fun.”
He kissed her cheek. “More than fun. You’re full of surprises, Brooke.”
“I am?”
“I had no idea you had such a sensual side.”
“I try to keep it under wraps when I’m at the office.” She winked. “Might not be appropriate.”
“There’s a whole different Brooke that I never knew about.”
“Actually I think the Brooke you know is about ninety percent of the real Brooke.” She didn’t want him to start thinking she was really a temptress super-spy or something, and then be disappointed. “There are just a few facets of me best not viewed under fluorescent lighting.”
RJ glanced down at her body and lifted the covers to reveal a peaked pink nipple. “I think you’d look amazing under any lighting.”
The way he stared at her made her feel beautiful. She worked hard to keep her body in reasonably good shape, but she’d never felt ultra gorgeous—until RJ’s appreciative blue gaze touched her skin.
She trailed a finger over his muscled chest. “I’m not sure what I expected under all that crisp suiting, but let’s just say I can tell you work out.”
“I play a lot of tennis and squash. They’re a full-body workout.”
“I used to play tennis in high school.” She said it shyly. She’d been their team’s star player, but never pursued it in college since she didn’t want to take too much time away from her studies and she needed to work almost full-time.
“No kidding? We’ll have to hit some balls together. We can go to the club when we get back.”
The club? The ultra-exclusive country club that cost over fifty thousand dollars a year just for the privilege of membership? She swallowed. “I haven’t played in years. I probably wouldn’t even be able to hit the ball over the net.”
“We’ll have to find out, won’t we? Tennis is like riding a bicycle, at least I think so. After ten minutes or so you’ll feel like you never put down your racquet.”
“Maybe, if you promise to take it easy on me.” She slid her finger down over his hard belly, which contracted under her touch.
“I don’t know. That’s not really the Kincaid way.”
“You’re more into crushing your opponents then dancing over their shattered remains?” That was their business reputation to a certain extent. RJ looked surprised. Had she stepped over an unspoken boundary by talking about the family? “I don’t mean that literally, of course. Just that I—”
RJ laughed. “Don’t back down now. That’s exactly what I meant. We’re not able to lose gracefully. It’s not in our DNA. If we were, maybe we’d be able to fit in better with crusty old Charleston society, where you need to suck up to someone whose great-great-granny came over on the Mayflower just so you’ll get invited to their garden parties. We’re constitutionally unable to do that.”
“But the Kincaids are part of Charleston society.”
He laughed again. “As if there was only one Charleston society. Believe me, there are plenty of people in this town who look down on the Kincaids as nouveau riche upstarts who won’t be around for long.” He looked thoughtful. “It’s never bothered me before, but with everything that’s going on lately I’m more determined than ever to prove them wrong.”
“The Kincaid Group will weather this storm. So far it doesn’t seem so much worse than the time we lost the Martin account.”
“The Martins went out of business. This time people are leaving just because they can, and they’re going to the competition.”
“So, you’ll have to show them what they’re missing. And now’s a good time to build up the company’s real-estate portfolio.”
“It is. We’ve been moving assets in that direction. When the real estate market comes back we’ll be sitting on a gold mine, especially along the Charleston waterfront. Hey, why are we lying here naked talking business?”
“Because we’re that kind of people.” She smiled at him.
He lifted a dark brow. “We’re a lot alike.”
Brooke shrugged. She wasn’t sure how alike they really were. Not being accepted into the highest echelons of Charleston society had never been one of her most pressing problems. And a relationship with her would hardly boost his social standing, which apparently was a big concern for him.
“We are alike.” He obviously sensed her doubts. “We’re both teetering on the brink of being workaholics, we like good restaurants, we play a mean game of tennis and we’re both lying in this bed.”
Brooke chuckled. “When you put it like that … But you’re making a lot of assumptions about my game of tennis.”
“I know you well enough to know you wouldn’t have mentioned it unless you were practically on the tour.”
“I’ll have to be careful what I tell you. You have dangerously high expectations.”
“Only because you never disappoint.” He said it plainly, no hint of teasing.
“Never? Surely I’ve made a few typos along the way.”
“I sincerely doubt it, but I’m talking about you as a person, not an office appliance. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how brilliant you are.”
Brooke beamed inside. “I enjoy a challenge.”
“And I enjoy you.” He nibbled her earlobe gently, sending a rush of sensation through her. Suddenly they were kissing again, then twisted up in the duvet making mad, early morning love.
Love? No. Not that. Having crazy, wild, before-breakfast sex. She’d never had so much sex in a twenty-four-hour period, and they were barely twelve hours in. Energetic and passionate, RJ soon brought her to new heights of arousal and excitement. They climaxed together, with a lot of noise, followed by laughter as they tried to disentangle themselves from the duvet.
“I’d suggest we shower together,” said RJ, once they stopped panting long enough to form a sentence. “But I’m worried we may never make it to breakfast.”
“What are we doing for breakfast? I don’t recall too much breakfast food in the fridge.”
“That’s because there’s an excellent diner up the road, and I always go there. You’ll love it. It’s a real slice of life in the mountains. I’ll shower first, then leave you with some privacy.”
Brooke couldn’t resist sneaking a few long, lascivious peeks as RJ rose from the bed and strode naked across the room. His body was magnificent. Broad shoulders tapered to a slim waist, and his backside … ooh la la. She would probably never be able to keep a straight face in the office again.
She fanned herself as she heard the rush of water in the shower. She’d expected RJ to be a romantic charmer, but not that he’d drive her so completely over the edge. Maybe all the years of fantasizing about him in secret made their actual coming together so intense.
She loved that he was so affectionate. He seemed to really enjoy holding and hugging her, as well as kissing and licking and all that other good stuff. And, boy, was he deft at sliding a condom on at just the right moment. He didn’t even need to interrupt the flow of events. He must have had the packet ripped open before they even started.
She frowned. This should remind her that he was no innocent boy next door on his first date. RJ Kincaid had bedded a lot of women, and she wasn’t likely to be the last.
Her chest tightened, then she realized how foolish it was to be thinking about the future when they still had the whole weekend ahead of them. She had no idea what the future would bring. Who could have predicted that Reginald Kincaid, one of the most vibrant men she’d ever met, would be shot dead by a mystery assailant, let alone that his wife would be accused of his murder?
Brooke let out a long sigh. If only she could figure out who else might be responsible. She was in the office on the night of the murder and left less than half an hour before it happened. The police had even interviewed her as if she was a suspect at first. Whoever killed him might have been in the building the entire time. But who?
“Why the serious face?” RJ appeared in the doorway, toweling off his spectacular bronzed body.
Already she felt a smile creep across her lips. Who could stay serious when confronted with such a vision? “What serious face?”
“Much better.”
They ate an enormous breakfast in the 1950s-style diner, served by the owner who had probably been doling out grits since the 1950s. He made a big fuss of both RJ and Brooke, treating them like visiting royalty. His great-granddaughter, aged about seven, brought them flowers she’d picked in the garden and handed the bouquet to Brooke. “You’re very pretty.”
Brooke smiled. “You’re very pretty, too. And I’m impressed with the standard of service here. You don’t get flowers and compliments every day with breakfast.” When the little girl had skipped back outside she whispered, “I wonder if they pay her to flatter the guests.”
“It’s a good strategy. Maybe The Kincaid Group should try it out on our customers.” Humor twinkled in his eyes. “On the other hand, most of our clients aren’t nearly as easy on the eyes so it might come across as phony.”
“Oh, please.” She wanted to protest that she wasn’t pretty, but she didn’t want to appear to be fishing for more compliments. She’d certainly never felt prettier in her life. “I hope you don’t have anything too strenuous planned for this morning. I’m not sure I’ll be able to move after that fantastic meal.” Perfectly crisp bacon, golden scrambled eggs, freshly baked rolls and spicy fried potato. And the ubiquitous bowl of grits.
“We’ll save the hike to the summit for this afternoon then. How about we stroll to the lake and pretend we’re fishing?”
“Sounds good.”
She had no idea how good. While they’d been relaxing in the diner, a member of staff had packed the trunk of the Suburban with an icebox of chilled beer and a packed lunch.
“I feel like elves are following close behind us waiting on us hand and foot.”
“Just takes a little organizing.”
Again, Brooke wondered if he did this sort of thing often. Bringing girls up to the cabin and scheming with all the locals to pamper and spoil them. Maybe right now the people in the diner were shaking their heads and clucking their tongues and discussing how long “this one” would last.
How long would it last?
RJ opened her car door, always the perfect gentleman. Right now she didn’t feel like his admin at all. It was almost impossible to imagine showing up at the office on Monday and going through his in-box. On the other hand she could imagine any number of intriguing things that could happen between now and Monday.
RJ seemed like a different person than when they left. For the first time since his father’s death he appeared truly relaxed, his face crinkling into smile lines rather than the frown he’d worn so much lately. His broad shoulders looked at ease, not tight with tension.
She felt different, too. Their night of passion had awakened something inside her. She was no virgin but she’d certainly never experienced pleasure like that before. This morning she’d grown into a more deeply sensual person than she was yesterday. Colors were brighter and smells sweeter and even the air tasted bright and crisp as champagne.
By Monday they’d both be different people, one way or another. Her fantasy of a relationship with RJ was coming true and happiness seemed right within her grasp.
Though if it didn’t work out, if this weekend was all they had, she’d have the agony of knowing just what she was missing—for the rest of her life.
Five
A lazy morning of casting flies from a grassy riverbank, followed by their luxurious picnic, led to a relaxed walk in the woods. RJ was easy to talk to. Which was hardly a surprise given that she’d known him for years. It was odd, and wonderful, how quickly and totally their relationship had altered from being purely professional to … utterly unprofessional.
They carried a thick foam camping pad out onto the broad balcony of the cottage, and now lay on it, naked, covered only by a thin sheet swiped from the linen closet. Warm spring air caressed their skin, still damp from the exertions of a heated afternoon lovemaking session. RJ traced patterns on her belly with a lazy finger, stirring little rivers of sensation that made her want to giggle.
His hair, tousled at some point by her fingers, hung down to his eyes, which shone, dark with arousal. “Maybe we shouldn’t ever go back.”
Brooke’s stomach contracted slightly under his fingers. “Tempting as that sounds …”
“Come on. Would they really miss us?” Humor deepened his dimples. “That unpleasant Jack Sinclair can take over running the company and you and I can just live in the woods on trout.”
“We didn’t catch any trout.” The idea held marvelous appeal. No more early morning commutes. No more taking minutes in meetings. But at heart she was a practical girl. “We didn’t even see any trout.”
RJ’s grin was infectious. “Berries, then.”
“Okay, berries. Supplemented with orders from your favorite restaurant.” She played with the lock of dark hair on his forehead.
RJ planted a kiss on her stomach. “I’ve never contemplated any other life than the one I was born to. Lately, though, with all this madness surrounding the family and the company, I can’t help thinking that there are other possibilities out there.” His expression darkened somewhat. “And that in making his will my dad was giving me permission to explore them.”
Was he serious? She couldn’t imagine The Kincaid Group without RJ, or RJ without the company that seemed to be his lifeblood.