- -
- 100%
- +
She slipped out of his office and closed the door, then picked up her jacket and bag from her own desk outside it. Thanks for everything. Was that his way of wrapping up the evening’s events—memos typed, letters filed, kisses received. All in a day’s work.
“Bye, Brooke.”
She startled at the sound of her name. She’d totally forgotten there might still be other employees on the floor. Usually everyone was long gone by now, but PR assistant Lucinda was donning her jacket two cubicles away. Brooke wondered if her cheeks were flushed or her lips red. Surely there must be some telltale signs that she’d locked lips with her boss.
“Bye, Luce.” She hurried for the elevator, hoping no one else would see her.
When the doors opened Joe from Marketing was inside. “What a day,” he exhaled, as she stepped in. “This place is coming apart at the seams.”
“No, it isn’t.” She bristled with indignation. “We’re going through tough times but a year from now this will all be forgotten and the company will be back on top again.”
Joe raised a sandy brow. “Really? If old Mrs. Kincaid did it I don’t think the family reputation will recover. And it’s sure looking like she did. I bet she’s enjoying life as the merry widow now.”
“She didn’t do it.” Still, a sliver of doubt wedged itself into her mind. Anyone could be pushed past their breaking point, and Elizabeth Kincaid had been pushed pretty far from the sound of it. “And don’t go spreading rumors that she did. You’ll make things worse.”
“Are you going to report me to your boss?” He shifted his bag higher on his shoulder.
“No. He’s got enough problems right now. He needs all of our support.”
“You’re like a wife to him, so supportive and attentive to his needs.” His grin was less than reassuring. “If only we could all be as lucky as RJ.”
She froze. Could he know something had happened between her and RJ? The doors opened and she stepped out with relief. “I’m not his wife.”
Though maybe one day I could be. Fantasies already played at the edge of her mind. Dangerous fantasies. Dreams that could explode in her face and destroy her career and reputation.
Still it was hard not to let her imagination wander just a little….
Two
Brooke had a sleepless night. In the morning her hair was a mess and she had to whip out the curling iron to bring some life back to the limp brown locks brushing her shoulders. She applied her makeup carefully, wanting to look as beautiful as RJ had made her feel last night. Did she look different now that she’d kissed him?
Not really. At least her eyes weren’t red from crying—yet. RJ would be able to blame his sudden enchantment with her on the whiskey she gave him. She, on the other hand, could blame only her years-long fascination with him. She’d fallen into his arms without a protest, and kissed him with passion that came from the heart.
She wore her smartest black suit. She’d bought it on sale at a fancy boutique, and with its well-cut designer lines it was something a rich girl would wear. She stood back and surveyed herself in the full-length mirror. Did she look like a potential girlfriend of RJ Kincaid?
She knew what her mom would say. You have a nice figure, you should show it off more. But that wasn’t her style. Besides, the last thing she wanted was a man who only cared about her breasts and not her brain.
She donned her Burberry raincoat, a cherished consignment store find. She preferred a demure, somewhat conservative style that said, I mean business. She wanted people to take her seriously. She’d never flirted with RJ for a single instant, as her job meant far more to her than the prospect of a quick kiss and cuddle.
Fear licked around the edges of her brain. Would RJ be embarrassed by last night’s indiscretions and find a way to shunt her aside? Her heart pounded as she walked into the Kincaid building.
Her throat dried as she stepped out of the elevator on their floor. How would she greet him? Would he be furious she’d made him drunk and landed them in a compromising position?
Maybe he wouldn’t remember that he’d kissed her at all.
His office door was closed. Was RJ still in there sleeping on the sofa? She hung her coat with shaking hands and wiped sweaty palms on her skirt before approaching. She lifted her hand to knock, then hesitated.
Maybe she should wait for him to come out. He might have a major hangover he needed to sleep off. She turned and went to sit at her desk. She was always the first person in each morning. She liked to get her in-box dealt with before the phones started ringing.
Brooke checked her email, then pulled the mail from her tray and started to sort through it. But her eyes kept straying to the closed door. Was he still upset about his mom being jailed? Who wouldn’t be? He could probably use a coffee and some breakfast.
She rose from her chair and approached the door again. She inhaled deeply and raised her hand—and the door opened.
The polite greeting she’d rehearsed fled her lips at the sight of RJ. She’d expected him to look rumpled and tired, but he didn’t. Well groomed and wearing a perfectly pressed suit, he looked every inch the business titan his rivals feared.
“Morning, Brooke.” His eyes twinkled with amusement.
“Morning.” The word burst out fast and loud. Somehow he seemed even more gorgeous than usual. Maybe because she knew just how his mouth tasted in a kiss. She struggled to drag her mind back to practical matters. “Did you sleep okay?”
“I slept very well under the circumstances.” He leaned against the door frame, eyes resting on her face. “It wasn’t easy sleeping alone after that kiss.” His deep blue eyes smoldered and his hushed tones carried more than a hint of suggestion.
Brooke bit her lip to stop a huge smile creeping across it. “For me either.” Her admission was a relief. He wasn’t trying to forget the kiss ever happened. “I’m glad you’re feeling better this morning.”
“I took your advice to heart. No sense weakening under pressure when I need all my energy to fight. Onwards and upwards, Brooke.”
“That’s the spirit.” She let the big goofy smile widen her mouth. This was the RJ she’d grown to know and love. “What’s first on the agenda this morning?”
He tilted his head slightly and lowered his voice. “The first thing on my agenda is to secure a date for tonight.”
Brooke’s heart almost stopped. Did he mean with her, or did he intend for her to call some strange woman and…
“Are you free after work this evening?”
“Yes,” she stammered. “Yes, I am.” How cool. Oh well, not like she had an image as a seductress to uphold.
“I’ll make reservations and will pick you up at your place at seven-thirty.”
“Great.” Already her mind spun with worries about what to wear. Her cherished collection of business suits would be too stuffy for dinner and she didn’t have that many—
“I’m off to a meeting and I’ve left a pile of items in your inbox.”
“Great.” Apparently that was the only word left in her vocabulary. “See you later,” she called, as he swept into the elevator.
A date with RJ. Tonight. And she didn’t even have to make the reservation! But she did still have to go through his correspondence and coordinate his schedule, just like any other day.
She felt as if she was stepping onto a board of chutes and ladders. Three steps forward and dinner with RJ leads up the tall ladder! What next? Would she roll a five and plunge to estrangement and unemployment at the bottom of a chute?
With no idea what kind of restaurant RJ would choose, Brooke decided to go smart-casual. She donned a floral patterned dress she’d never worn to work and a cute cashmere shrug she’d found in a boutique walking home from work one day. Her hair was shiny, her complexion clear for once and except for the heightened redness in her cheeks she looked pretty darn good!
Still, she jumped when the doorbell rang. She’d never given RJ her address, but no doubt he could just look in her personnel file. She drew in a breath as she walked across the living room to open the door.
“Hi.” She felt yet another huge goofy grin spread across her face at the sight of RJ, several inches larger than life, as always, standing right there on her doorstep. “Won’t you come in?” She’d spent at least an hour cleaning the place to within an inch of its life.
“Sure.” He smiled, and stepped inside.
“Would you like a martini?” She knew he loved them.
“Why not?” RJ managed to look both classic and hip in a jacket that hung elegantly from his broad shoulders, and loose khakis. He often had the air of an old-time matinee idol, which perfectly matched his bold, aristocratic features and easy confidence. Right now she felt like his leading lady, since her dress had a vintage flair to it.
She mixed the martinis and poured them into long-stemmed glasses while RJ complimented her place.
“Thanks, I like it here.” She’d lived in the two-bedroom condo near Colonial Lake for five years now and was proud of how she’d decorated it. A mix of timeless pieces and funky touches that reflected her personality. “I’m renting right now but I hope the owner will sell to me when the lease is up.” As long as I still have a job by then. She smiled and handed him the drink. “Bottoms up.”
RJ raised his glass. “I never know which end will be up lately.” He took a sip, and nodded his head in approval. “You look gorgeous.” His gaze lingered on her face, then drifted to her neck, and she became agonizingly conscious of the hint of cleavage her dress revealed.
“Thanks.” She tried not to blush. “You don’t look too bad, either.” He’d obviously taken the time to go home and change after work, which touched her. She knew how often he headed out to dinner straight from the office.
“I clean up okay.” He shot her a sultry look. “I’m glad to do something fun for a change. Lately I feel like I’m running from crisis to crisis, either in the company or in the family.”
“Crisis-free here.” She offered him a plate of tiny puff pastries she’d picked up on her way home. “Want something to nibble?”
“Why, sure.” His eyes rested on her face for a second longer than was entirely polite. All the parts of her body that never knew how much they wanted to be nibbled by RJ started to hum and tingle. Then he took a pastry, put it in his mouth and chewed.
Brooke quickly swallowed one herself. She could see his gleaming black Porsche parked outside. She’d never ridden in it before as he used a more practical Audi sedan for work. She could imagine the neighbors whispering and peering through their miniblinds. “Where are we going for dinner?”
“A new place just off King Street. It’s a grill, of sorts, with a Low Country twist to it. A friend told me it’s the best food he’s eaten in ages.”
“Sounds great, but isn’t that kind of central? What if people see us together?” It probably wasn’t the best idea for them to hang out right in the historic district. She’d assumed he’d pick somewhere discreet and out of the way.
“People see us together every day. Let them assume what they like.”
Was he implying that this evening meant nothing so there was no need to worry if anyone saw?
The steady heat in his gaze suggested otherwise. If she didn’t know better she’d suspect he could see right through her dress.
“I’d prefer to go somewhere more private.” Her nerves jangled as she said it. He was her boss, after all, and not used to hearing her opinion on such things. “I’d hate for people to start talking.”
“Let them talk. Everyone in Charleston is talking about the Kincaids right now and it hasn’t killed us yet.” His face darkened.
He must be thinking about his father’s murder. Why was she bickering over restaurants when RJ was under so much pressure already? “All right, I’ll stop worrying. We can always tell them we were testing it out as a place to hold a client party.”
“Always thinking.” He smiled and took another sip of his martini. “That’s a damn good martini but I think we should get going. I made a reservation for eight and it’s the hottest table in town right now.”
Uh-oh. That meant there might be people he knew there. What if people started to gossip about them and things didn’t work out? Her hands shook slightly as she put on her shrug and grabbed her purse. She was hoping for a promotion. What if people thought she was trying to sleep her way to the top? She was hardly from RJ’s usual social circles. She swallowed hard. Still, it was too late to back out now. “I’m ready.” She was heading out to dinner with her boss, for better or worse.
The reclined seats in his black Porsche felt every bit as decadent and inviting as she’d imagined. Excitement raced through her as RJ started the engine. She wouldn’t be able to resist telling her mom about this. She’d be impressed for sure. Then again, maybe she was starting to think too much like her mom. She did not like RJ because he had a Porsche, or a large bank account—she liked him because of his intelligence and kindness.
And his washboard abs and fine backside.
“Why are you smiling?” His eyes twinkled when he glanced at her.
“I think the martini made me giddy.”
“Excellent. I like you giddy.”
He pulled into a parking space in the historic district, then opened her car door before she even had time to unbuckle her seat belt. He took her hand and helped her out, and she felt like royalty stepping onto King Street with RJ Kincaid. Which was funny because she’d been to restaurants here with him before—as part of a business party, of course. Now everything was different.
Her hand stayed inside RJ’s, hot and aware, as they walked down a picturesque side street to a restaurant with a crisp green awning. The maître d’ took them to their table on a veranda overlooking a tiny but perfect garden behind the building, where flowers climbed an old brick wall and water trickled in a lion’s-head fountain. The table was set with a thick, starched tablecloth and heavy silverware, and a bright bouquet of daisies in a cut glass vase.
RJ pulled back her chair, again making her feel like a princess.
“A bottle of Moët, please,” he said to the waiter.
Brooke’s eyes widened. “What are we celebrating?”
“That life goes on.” RJ leaned back in his chair. “And dammit, we’re going to enjoy it no matter what happens.”
“That’s an admirable philosophy.” Along with everyone else in Charleston, he must be wondering what could possibly happen next. His dad was dead and his mom was being held at the county jail under suspicion of murder. Bail had been denied as, with money and connections, she was considered a flight risk.
And there was something he didn’t know.
Brooke had told the police she’d seen Mrs. Kincaid at the office that night. She hadn’t mentioned this fact to RJ. In light of the arrest she wasn’t sure he’d be happy she told the truth. Of course she knew Elizabeth Kincaid was innocent, but still … Guilt trickled uneasily up her spine. She really should tell him she’d seen his mom there. Just to clear the air.
“My dad would have wanted me to hold my head up and keep fighting.” He watched as the waiter poured two tall glasses of sparkling champagne. “And that’s what I intend to do. I spent all afternoon trying to get the D.A.’s office to agree to set bail for Mom, but they’ve refused. And I talked Apex International down from the ledge in between phone calls to the D.A.”
“The toy importer?”
“Yup. Getting ready to jump ship to one of our competitors. I convinced them to stick with us. Told them the Kincaid Group is the most efficient, well-run, cost-effective shipper on the east coast and we intend to stay that way.” He raised his glass and clinked it gently against hers. “Thanks for brightening a dark day.”
His honest expression, weary but still brave and strong, touched something deep inside her. “I’m happy to help in any way I can.” That sounded odd. A bit too businesslike, maybe. But it was hard to step out of her familiar role and embrace this new one, especially when she had no idea what role she’d be in tomorrow. You know I’d do anything for you. She managed not to say it, though she suspected he knew.
“You’re helping already.” That little flame of desire hovered in his pupils and sent a shiver through her. “Your loyalty means a lot to me. You’ve proved I can count on you in a crisis. I don’t know what I would have done without you in the last few weeks.”
His deep voice echoed inside her. Did she really mean that much to him? Her heart fluttered alarmingly.
“I’m glad.”
Further words failed her and she distracted herself by looking down at the menu, which had an array of elegant yet folksy-sounding local dishes. After some hemming and hawing, RJ chose roast pork shoulder with mustard barbeque sauce and sautéed greens. She chose a shrimp dish with a side of grits and an arugula salad.
“It occurs to me that I don’t know too much about you, Brooke Nichols.” RJ raised a brow. “I know you live in Charleston, but other than that you’re a bit of an enigma. You don’t talk about yourself much.”
She inhaled slightly. “There isn’t much to know.” Did he really want to learn that her college quarterback father had resisted all her teenage mother’s attempts to trap him into marriage, and how she’d grown up with a succession of stepfathers? “I was born in Greenville, and I went to high school in Columbia. Mom and I moved here after I graduated and we both adore it.”
“Does your mom live with you?”
“No, she lives in the ‘burbs.” With her latest boyfriend. “I enjoy having my own place.”
“Do you? I find I’m getting tired of living alone. I miss Mom’s cooking.” He smiled, then a shadow of pain passed over his features.
A jolt of guilt tightened her stomach. Was her police interview the reason Elizabeth Kincaid had been arrested? She really should tell RJ about that right now. Did you know I told the police I saw your mom at the scene of the crime? How did you say something like that without sounding accusatory? “I’m sure they’ll let her out soon. They have to know she’s innocent. She’s the sweetest lady I’ve ever met.” She wasn’t exaggerating. And now she knew what Elizabeth Kincaid had put up with over the years. She must have suspected her husband was cheating, at least, even if she hadn’t known about his second family. “I wish we could help them find the real killer.”
“Me, too. Mom’s always been the linchpin of the family. I’m trying to hold it together for everyone but we’re all tense and anxious.”
Her heart swelled. “I envy your large family. It must be reassuring to have siblings you can turn to as well as your parents.”
“Or fight with.” He grinned. “I think we probably argue as much as we get along. Maybe not so much these days, but when we were kids …” He shook his head.
“I never had anybody to fight with, and I’m not sure that’s a good thing. Sibling spats must teach you how to negotiate with people.”
He laughed. “Are you saying I honed my business bargaining skills over the Hot Wheels set I shared with Matt?”
“Quite possibly.” She sipped her champagne, a smile spreading across her lips. RJ was visibly relaxing, his features softening and the lines of worry leaving his face. “Whatever you did as children has made you close as adults. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a family spend so much time together.”
RJ sighed. “I really thought we were the perfect family, but now the entire world knows that was just an illusion.”
“No family is perfect. Yours is still close-knit and loving, even after everything that’s happened.”
The waiter brought their appetizers, fried calamari with a green tomato salsa.
“We’ll get through this. I need to focus on what makes us stronger, not what’s threatening to tear us apart. And somehow you’ve managed to deflect the conversation off yourself again.” He raised a brow. “You’re a mysterious character, Brooke. What do you do when you’re peacefully alone in your private palace?”
She shrugged. It would have been nice to be able to chatter gaily about flamenco dancing sessions and cocktail parties, but she wasn’t one to embroider the truth. She had friends over once or twice a month, but mostly she valued the peace and quiet of her sanctuary after a long day at work. “I read a lot.” She paused to nibble a crispy piece of calamari. “Not very exciting, is it?”
“I guess that depends on how good a book you’re reading.” His blue gaze rested on her face, and she warmed under it. “Sometimes I think I should make more time for quiet pastimes like reading. Might improve my mind.”
She laughed. “I can’t see you sitting still long enough to read a book.”
“Maybe that’s something I need to work on.” He hadn’t touched his food. If anything he seemed transfixed by her, unable to take his eyes off her face. Brooke felt her breathing grow shallow under his intense stare. “I used to go out to our hunting cabin at least once a month with my dad. We’d mellow out and recharge our batteries together. I haven’t been there since he died.”
“Can you still go visit it?”
“It’s mine now. He left it to me in his will.” A shadow passed over his face. The same will that left almost half the company to Jack Sinclair. “It’s been sitting empty since he died.”
“Why don’t you go there?”
He shrugged. “I never went there without Dad. I can’t imagine going alone and I can’t think of anyone I’d want to go with.” His expression changed and his eyes widened slightly. “You. You could come with me.”
“Oh, I don’t think so.” She shifted in her chair. Their first date wasn’t even over yet and he was inviting her on an overnight trip? She knew his family never went there just for the day. It was probably a long drive. She’d likely be expected to share a bed with him and so far they’d only kissed once. Already her heart pounded with a mix of excitement and sheer terror.
RJ’s face brightened. “We’ll go this weekend. Just you and me. We’ll get Frankie Deleon’s to pack us some gourmet meals and we’ll spend a weekend in peace.”
“I don’t know anything about hunting.” The idea of killing things made her cringe.
“Don’t worry, we don’t have to really hunt. Dad and I mostly just walked around in the mountains carrying the guns as an excuse. It’s so peaceful up there it seems a crime to pierce the air with a shot.”
She smiled. “That’s a funny image. So there aren’t racks of antlers on the living room wall?”
“There’s one set but we bought it at an antiques auction.” His eyes twinkled. “We call him Uncle Dave. We did sometimes go fishing and eat the fish, though. Fishing was the only time I ever saw Dad sit still for more than a few minutes.”
“I used to fish with my friend June’s family years ago. They’d take a camper to a lake and stay there for a week every summer. I caught a huge rainbow trout once.”
“Excellent. Now we know what we’re doing this weekend.” He rubbed his hands together with enthusiasm. “Nice to have something to look forward to as this promises to be a long week.”
Brooke didn’t know what to say. He’d already planned her weekend without even waiting for a response. Yes, he was her boss, but going fishing on the weekends was not part of her job description. She should be mad at his arrogance.
On the other hand, a weekend in the mountains with RJ … What girl would say no to that?
Her. “I don’t think I should come. I’m sure you have other friends you could invite.” Her gut was telling her to slow this whole train ride before it went off the tracks. “I have … things to do here at home.”
“Are you afraid I’ll take advantage of you, out there in the lonesome woods?” He tilted his head and lifted a brow.
“Yes.” Her blood sizzled at the prospect.
“You’re absolutely right, of course.”
“I think it’s a bit premature.”
“Of course, we’ve only known each other five years.” A dimple appeared in his left cheek, emphasizing his high cheekbones.