Read the book: «The Kincaids: New Money: Behind Boardroom Doors»

One

“There is one good thing about this situation.” RJ Kincaid slammed his phone down on the conference table, his voice cracking with fury.

“What’s that?” Brooke Nichols stared at her boss. She failed to see a bright side.

“Now we know things cannot possibly get any worse.” His eyes flashed and he leaned forward in his chair. The other staff in the meeting sat like statues. “My calls to the prosecutor’s office, the police, the courts, the state senator—have all been ignored.”

He stood and marched around the table. “The Kincaid family is under siege and they’re firing on us from all angles.” Tall and imposing at the best of times, with bold features, dark hair and smoky slate-blue eyes, RJ now looked like a general striding into battle. “And my mother, Elizabeth Winthrop Kincaid, the finest woman in Charleston, will be spending tonight behind bars like a common criminal.”

He let out a string of curses that made Brooke shrink into her chair. She’d worked for RJ for five years and she’d never seen him like this. Normally he was the most easygoing man you could meet, never rattled by even the most intense negotiations, with time for everyone and a nonchalant approach to life.

Of course that was before his father’s murder and the revelation that his privileged and entitled existence was founded on lies.

RJ walked over to his brother Matthew. “You’re the director of new business—is there any new business?”

Matthew inhaled. They both knew the answer. Even some of their most stalwart clients had fled the company in the aftermath of the scandal. “There is the Larrimore account.”

“Yes, I suppose we do have one new account to hang our hopes on. Greg, how are the books looking?” RJ strode around to the CFO and for a moment she thought he was going to collar him.

Mild-mannered Greg shrank into his chair. “As you know, we’re experiencing challenges—”

“Challenges!” RJ cut him off, raising his hands in the air in a dramatic gesture. “That’s one way of looking at it. A challenge is an opportunity for growth, a time to rise up and seize opportunity, to embrace change.”

He turned and walked back across the room. Everyone sat rigid in their chairs, probably praying he wouldn’t accost them.

“But what I see here is a company on the brink of going under.” RJ shoved a hand through his thick, dark hair. His handsome features were hard with anger. “And all of you are just sitting in your chairs taking notes as if we’re at some garden party. Get up and get out there and do something, for Chrissakes!”

No one moved an inch. Brooke rose from her chair, unable to stop herself. “Urn …” She had to get him out of here. He was acting like a jerk and if he continued like this he’d do himself permanent harm in the company.

“Yes, Brooke?” He turned to face her, and lifted an eyebrow. His eyes met hers and a jolt of energy surged in her blood.

“I need to speak to you outside.” She picked up her laptop and headed for the door, heart pounding. He could probably fire her on the spot in his current mood, but she wasn’t doing her job if she let him insult and harangue employees who were already under a lot of pressure and stress through no fault of their own.

“I’m sure it can wait.” He frowned and gestured to the gathered meeting.

“Just for a moment. Please.” She continued toward the door, hoping he’d follow.

“Apparently my assistant’s need to consult with me in private is more urgent than the imminent collapse of The Kincaid Group, and the imprisonment of my mother. Since it’s the end of the day I’m sure you also have better places to be. Meeting dismissed.”

RJ moved to the door in time to hold it open for her. A wave of heat and adrenaline rose inside her as she passed him, her arm almost brushing against his. He closed the door and followed her out. In the hush of the carpeted hallway Brooke almost lost her nerve. “In your office, please.”

“I don’t have time to loll about in my office. My mother’s in the county jail in case you hadn’t noticed.”

Brooke reminded herself his rudeness was the result of extreme stress. “Trust me. It’s important.” Her own firm tone surprised her. She walked ahead into the spacious corner office with views of the Charleston waterfront. The sunset cast a warm amber glow over the water reflected on the walls in moving patterns. “Come on in.”

RJ sauntered into the room, then crossed his arms. “Happy now?”

“Sit down.” She closed the door and locked it.

“What?”

Her resolve faltered as her boss glared at her.

“On the couch.” She pointed to it, in case he’d forgotten where it was. She almost blushed at the way it sounded as she said it. What a lovelorn secretary’s fantasy! But this situation was serious. “I’m going to pour you a whiskey and you’re going to drink it.”

He didn’t move. “Have you lost your mind?”

“No, but you’re beginning to lose yours and you need to step back and take a deep breath before you damage your reputation. You can’t talk to employees like that, no matter what the circumstances. Now sit.” She pointed at the sofa again.

A stunned RJ lowered himself onto it.

Brooke poured three fingers of whisky into a crystal tumbler with shaking hands. Everything really did seem to be going to hell in a handbasket for RJ. Until now he’d faced each disaster with composure, but apparently he’d reached his breaking point.

Their fingers touched as she handed him the glass, and she cursed the subtle buzz of awareness that always haunted her around RJ. “Here, this will settle your nerves.”

“My nerves are just fine.” He took a sip. “It’s everything else that’s screwed up. The police can’t really believe my mother killed my father!”

He took a long swig, which made Brooke wince. She bit her lip. The pained expression on his handsome face tugged at her heart. “We both know it’s impossible, and they’ll figure that out.”

“Will they?” RJ raised a dark brow and peered up at her. “What if they don’t? What if this is the first of many long nights in jail for her?” He shuddered visibly and took another swig. “It kills me that I can’t protect her from this.”

“I know. And you’re still grieving the death of your father.”

“Not just his literal death.” RJ stared at the floor. “The death of everything I thought I knew about him.”

She and RJ had never discussed the scandalous revelations about the Kincaid family, but they were both aware she knew all the details—along with everyone else in Charleston. They’d been splashed all over the local media every day since his father’s murder on December 30th. It was now March.

“Another family.” He growled the words like a curse. “Another son, born before me.” He shook his head. “All my life I was Reginald Kincaid, Jr. Proud son and heir and all I wanted to do was follow in my father’s footsteps. Little did I know they’d been wandering off into some other woman’s house, to sleep with her and raise her children, too.”

He glanced up, and his pain-filled gaze stole her breath. It killed her to see him suffering like this. If only she could soothe his hurt and anger.

“I’m so sorry.” It was all she could manage. What could she say? “I’m sure he loved you. You could see it in his face when he looked at you.” She swallowed. “I bet he wished things were different, and that he could have at least told you before he died.”

“He had plenty of time to tell me. I’m thirty-six years old, for Chrissakes. Was he waiting until I hit fifty?” RJ rose to his feet and crossed the room, whiskey splashing in the glass. “That’s what hurts the most. That he didn’t confide in me. All the time we spent together, all those long hours fishing or hunting, walking through the woods with guns. We talked about everything under the sun—except that he was living a lie.”

RJ tugged at his tie with a finger and loosened his collar. Recent events had given him an air of gravitas that he’d never had before. The strain hardened his noble features and gave his broad shoulders the appearance of carrying the weight of the world.

Brooke longed to take him in her arms and give him a reassuring hug. But that would not be a good idea. “You’re doing a great job of keeping the family together and the company afloat.”

“Afloat!” RJ let out a harsh laugh. “It would be a real problem for a shipping company if it couldn’t stay afloat.” His eyes twinkled with humor for a split second. “But at the rate we’re losing clients we’ll be belly up in the bay before the year is out if I don’t turn things around. For every new client Matthew brings in, we’re losing two old ones. And I don’t even have a free hand to guide the company. My father—in his infinite wisdom—saw fit to give his illegitimate son forty-five percent of the company and only leave me a measly nine percent.”

Brooke grimaced. That did seem the cruelest act of all. RJ had devoted his entire working life to The Kincaid Group. He’d been executive vice president almost since he left college, and everyone—including him—assumed he’d one day be president and CEO. Until his father had all but left the company to a son no one knew about. “I suppose he did that because he felt guilty about keeping Jack secret all these years.”

“As well he might.” RJ marched back across the room and took another swig of whiskey. “Except he didn’t seem to think about how much it would hurt the rest of us. Even all five of us Kincaids together don’t have a majority vote. Ten percent of the stock is owned by some mystery person we can’t seem to find. If Jack Sinclair gains control over the missing ten percent he’ll get to decide how to run The Kincaid Group and the rest of us have to go along with it or ship out. I’m seriously considering doing the latter.”

“Leaving the company?” She couldn’t believe it. Selfish thoughts about her own job disappearing almost toppled her concern for RJ.

“Why not? It’s not mine to run. I’m just another cog in the machine. That’s not what my dad groomed me for or what I want for myself.” He slammed the empty glass down on a table. “Maybe I’ll leave Charleston for good.”

“Calm down, RJ.” Brooke poured another three fingers of pungent whiskey into the glass. Right now it seemed a good idea to get him too drunk to go anywhere at all. “It’s early days yet. Nothing will be decided about the company until the shareholders’ meeting and, until then, everyone’s counting on you to steer the ship through these rough waters.”

“I love all your nautical lingo.” He flashed a wry grin as he took the glass. “I knew there was a good reason I hired you.”

“That and my excellent typing skills.”

“Typing—pah. You could run this company if you put your mind to it. You’re not just organized and efficient, you’re good with people. You’ve managed to talk me back off the ledge today, and I thank you for it.” He took another sip. The whiskey was certainly doing its job. Already the hard edge of despair and anger had softened.

Now was not the time to mention that she had applied for a management job, and been turned down. She didn’t know if RJ was behind that, or if he even knew.

“I didn’t want you to upset people any more than they already are.” She pushed a hand through her hair. “Everyone’s temper is running high and we need to work together. The last thing you want is for key employees to quit and make things worse in the run-up to the shareholders’ meeting.”

“You’re right, as usual, my lovely Brooke.”

Her eyes widened. Obviously the whiskey was going straight to his head. Still, she couldn’t help the funny warm feeling his words generated inside her, almost like a shot of whiskey to her core.

“The most important thing right now is to find your dad’s murderer.” She tried to distract herself from RJ’s melting gaze. “Then your mom won’t be under suspicion.”

“I’ve hired a private investigator.” RJ peered into his glass. “I told him I’ll pay for twenty-four hours in the day and he shouldn’t stop until he finds the truth.” He looked up at her. “Of course I told him to start with the Sinclair brothers.”

Brooke nodded. Jack Sinclair sounded like a man with an ax to grind, though her vision could be skewed by the fact that he’d inherited her boss’s birthright. She hadn’t met Jack or his half brother Alan. “They must be angry your dad kept them secret all these years.”

“Yup. Resentment.” RJ sat down on the sofa again. “I’m beginning to know what that feels like.”

“Very understandable.” Her chest ached with emotion. She wished she could bear some of the burden for him. “This whole situation came out of nowhere for you.”

“Not to mention my mom.” He shook his head. “Though sometimes I wonder if she knew. She didn’t seem as surprised as the rest of us.”

Brooke swallowed. Elizabeth Kincaid would have had at least some motivation for the murder if she’d known about her husband’s adultery. And she had seen her in the office on the night of the murder. She shook the thought from her brain. There was no way such a quiet and gentle person could fire a bullet at another human, even her cheating husband. “Let me pour you some more.”

She brought the bottle over to the sofa and leaned down to fill RJ’s glass. The whiskey sloshed in the bottle as he stuck out a strong arm and pulled her roughly onto the sofa with him. She let out a tiny shriek as her hips settled into the soft leather next to his.

“I appreciate the company, Brooke. I guess I needed someone to talk to.” His arm had now settled across her shoulders, his big hand wrapped around her upper arm. She could hardly breathe. And when she did his warm, masculine scent assaulted her senses and raised her blood pressure.

RJ settled into the sofa a little, caressing her shoulder with his hand. Heat bloomed under his fingers, through her thin blouse. She still held the whiskey bottle and wondered if she should pour from it, or if he’d had enough. He answered the question by taking it from her with his free hand, and putting it on the floor along with his glass. His hand then settled on her thigh, where she could feel the warmth of his palm through her smart gray skirt. Her heart quickened when he turned to look at her.

RJ’s expression was one of intense concentration. He seemed to be examining her face like she was a table of container ship sailings. “I never noticed how green your eyes are.”

Brooke had a sudden urge to roll those eyes. How many women had he used that line on? RJ was famous throughout the Southeast as a Most Eligible Bachelor and had enjoyed his single status as long as she’d known him. “Some people would call them gray.” Was she really sitting almost in RJ’s lap talking about her eyes, or was this some kind of manic dream?

“They’d be wrong.” Again his expression was deadly serious. “But lately I’m learning that people are wrong a lot of the time.” His gaze fell to her mouth. Her lips parted slightly and she pressed them back together. “I’m having to question a lot of my assumptions about the world.”

“Sometimes that’s good.” She spoke softly, wondering if she’d said the wrong thing. Sitting this close to RJ was dangerous. Arousal already crept through her limbs and strange parts of her were starting to tingle.

“I suppose so.” RJ frowned. “Though it doesn’t make life any easier.”

Poor RJ. He was used to being the golden child, his entire life mapped out at birth and his every need taken care of before he could even voice it.

“Sometimes challenges can make us stronger.” It was hard to form sensible thoughts with his arm around her shoulder and his other hand on her knee. She could feel the power of his sturdy body right through her clothes. Part of her wanted to stand up and go organize the papers on his desk. The other part wanted to wrap her arms around his neck and …

RJ’s lips crushed over hers in a hot, whiskey-scented kiss that banished all thought. Her body melted against his and she felt her fingers do what they’d wanted all along—roam into his stiff white shirt and the hard, hot muscle beneath.

His hands caressed her, making her skin hum with arousal. Her nipples thickened and a powerful wave of heat rose in her belly. RJ’s raw hunger for affection—for help—gave urgency to his touch. She could feel how badly he needed her, right now, here in his arms.

She kissed him back with equal force, affection for him overpowering any more sensible urges. She wanted to heal his hurt, to make him feel better, and right now she almost felt that was within her power. Emotions surged within her. She’d adored RJ almost since the day she met him and his strength under adversity only made her admire him more. She’d never dared imagine for a single second that he’d return her feelings.

Their kiss deepened and heated and for a moment she thought they’d fuse and become one, then RJ pulled back gently. “Brooke, you’re an amazing woman.”

His soft sigh contained a thick aroma of all those fingers of whiskey she’d poured him. Would he regret this in the morning? Still, hearing him call her an amazing woman stirred something powerful inside her. Was this the beginning of a totally new phase in their relationship? Maybe they’d start dating and she’d be able to help him negotiate the minefield of his life and come happily out the other side with him—arm in arm. His arms felt fabulous around her right now.

Or would she remember this as the moment she destroyed her hard-earned career at The Kincaid Group and permanently alienated her boss by getting him drunk and compromising their professional relationship? A ball of fear burst open like a mold spore inside her.

What was she doing? She’d gotten him drunk, then let him kiss her. It was all her fault, even she could see that.

RJ stroked her cheek and she fought a sudden urge to nuzzle against him like a cat. Was it so wrong to give him the affection and comfort he craved? Again, violins and visions of a rose-scented courtship hummed in her mind. She was strong enough to help him through this. Her own background had made her a resilient person.

RJ caressed her, taking in the curve of her breast with his fingers then trailing over her thigh. The musky scent of him filled her senses for a second as his lips met hers again and kissed her softly.

Cigar smoke clung to his suit from the long business lunch he’d hosted at a local restaurant, and mingled rather intoxicatingly with the whiskey. Everything about RJ seemed delicious to her right now. She wanted to wrap herself up in him and stay there forever.

But he withdrew again, leaving her lips stinging. Then he frowned and pushed a hand through his hair as if wondering what he was doing.

An icy finger of doubt slid down Brooke’s back. Perhaps that smoky smell came from the smoldering ruin of her career and reputation. Instinct pushed her to her feet, which wasn’t easy with her knees reduced to wobbly jelly. “Maybe it’s time to get out of here. It’s after seven.”

RJ leaned his head back against the sofa, eyes closed. “I’m beat. I don’t think I can take another step today.”

“I’ll call you a cab.” She certainly didn’t want him driving with all that whiskey in him. He didn’t live far away, but driving or walking him home didn’t seem like such a great idea, either. If he invited her in, she wasn’t sure she could say no, and she knew she’d regret being that easy.

“Don’t worry about me, Brooke. I’ll sleep here on the sofa. I’ve done it many times before. If I wake up in the middle of the night I’ll go through some of the paperwork I need to read.”

“You’ll wake up sore.”

“I’ll be fine.” Already he was sinking into the sofa, eyes sleepy. “Go home and rest and I’ll see you in the morning.”

Brooke bit her lip. Somehow it hurt to be dismissed like this after their steamy kisses. What did she expect? That he’d want her by his side every moment from now on? Maybe after so much whiskey he’d already forgotten he even kissed her.

“What about dinner?”

“Not hungry,” he murmured.

“There’s half a plate of sandwiches in the fridge left over from a luncheon meeting today. I could get them for you.”

“Stop trying to mother me, and go home.” His tone was almost curt. Brooke swallowed and turned for the door. Then she noticed RJ had sat up again, head in his hands. “I can’t believe my mom is in jail. It’s just so wrong. I’ve never felt so powerless in my life.”

Brooke walked back toward him. “She’s a strong woman and she’ll survive. You’ve done all you can for now and it won’t help her if you worry yourself sick over it. Get some sleep so you’ll be ready to make the most of tomorrow. You’ve got a company to save.”

He blew out a hard breath. “You’re right, Brooke, as usual. Thanks for everything.”

Already he’d lain down, eyes closed. A fierce pang of tenderness for him ached in her chest. So tall and strong and proud and so anxious to go immediately into battle to save his mom. RJ was the kind of man any woman would adore. And she was only one among the many who did.

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.

“You know what I mean.”

“Sure. One amazing kiss is not enough to plan an entire weekend around.”

She shrugged. “Something like that.”

“How many kisses? Two, three?” He looked impatiently at the expanse of tablecloth between them. Humor twinkled in his eyes.

“Probably somewhere around five.” She fought to keep a smile from her mouth.

“Five years and five kisses.” He looked thoughtful. “Let’s see what we can do before the night is out.”

The handsome waiter whisked their appetizer plates away and settled their mains in front of them while the sommelier poured two glasses of white wine. She’d barely made a dent in her champagne. Maybe that was her problem. She needed to drink a bit more to take the edge off her inhibitions. The whiskey had certainly done wonders for RJ yesterday. On the other hand, the prospect of four more kisses before the evening ended made her light-headed.

She could see the glow of impending victory in RJ’s eyes. She’d become familiar with that look in meetings right when he knew he’d clinched a big deal. RJ hated to lose, and sometimes went after quite small clients just for the satisfaction of beating the competition.

Apparently she was to be his next conquest. Her blood pressure ratcheted up a notch. RJ in motion was hard to stop. “Can you really get away for the weekend with everything that’s going on right now?”

RJ raised a dark brow. “That’s exactly why I need to get away.” He reached out and touched her fingers gently where they sat at the base of her glass. A tiny shiver of arousal ran through her. “And you’re just the distraction I need.”

His voice was husky, thick with the arousal that weighted the air between them. Did he expect her to go home with him tonight? Just what had she gotten herself into here? Him calling her a “distraction” did not entirely bode well for a lifelong commitment.

Then again, she was getting way ahead of herself. And already her lips tingled in anticipation of the second kiss he’d promised. She tried to distract them with a piece of shrimp, but the sauce proved surprisingly spicy and only made things worse. “I suppose some fresh air won’t do either of us any harm.” That sounded lame. She should probably be making suggestive and witty comments. Soon enough RJ would realize he’d made a terrible mistake thinking she was an attractive and desirable woman.

If he even did think that. Maybe it was more of an “any port in the storm” thing. Even your assistant started to look good when your entire world was falling apart.

“What are you thinking about?” RJ peered into her eyes, mischief sparkling in his own blue depths.

“Just wondering where this evening is heading.” The truth seemed as good a response as any other.

RJ’s mouth broadened into a sensual smile. “Somewhere beautiful.”

It was dark when they parked near Waterfront Park and strolled along the promenade looking out at the lights reflected on the dark water. They were dangerously close to RJ’s apartment, or at least she suspected so, but he’d shown no signs of trying to take her home. He hadn’t even tried to kiss her.

Her skin craved his touch and each time she hoped for it and didn’t get it, the longing only grew more bone-deep. Five years of suppressed yearning were unleashed by one kiss, and if she didn’t get another kiss soon she might just burst into flame.

Moonlight mingled with the streetlights to illuminate RJ’s dramatic features. “So your mom is your only real family?”

“Since my Gran died five years ago, yes.” RJ had been plumbing her for information all evening. Not in an unkind way. He seemed genuinely curious.

“Did you ever want siblings?”

“All the time,” she admitted. “When I was little I wished for a sister to share my dolls with. Then when I was a teenager I wished I had a brother to bring home handsome friends.”

He chuckled. “My sisters weren’t shy about asking me to do just that. But I bet you managed fine, anyway.”

He caressed her with another one of those lingering glances that made her feel like a supermodel. No need for him to know her last date had been nearly a year ago. Since her best friend got married she hadn’t been out much at night and she knew better than to have an affair with someone at the office.

Until now …

He stepped toward her and slid his arms around her hips. Her breasts stirred inside her dress as he pulled her close. Her lips parted and her hands rose to the soft wool of his jacket. She ached for his kiss, a long, deep ache that rose inside her and pulled her closer into his embrace. When his lips finally met hers sensation sparkled through her. All day she’d dreamed of this moment, craved and hoped for it, despite all her misgivings. RJ’s arms around her made her feel safe, protected and adored. He kissed with exquisite gentleness, touching her lips gently then pulling back, letting the very tip of his tongue touch hers, teasing and tasting her until she was in a frenzy of arousal. It took all her strength not to writhe against him in full view of the other people enjoying the breezy moonlit night.

“Yes, it’s a good idea.” RJ’s words surprised her. “Us kissing.” They’d barely pulled apart and she hadn’t even had time for doubts to creep back into her consciousness. No doubt he was trying to preempt them.

“Certainly feels like one.” A silly smile plastered itself across her face. A sense of euphoria suffused her entire body, and she’d only had two glasses of wine so she couldn’t even blame the alcohol.

She was high on RJ.

His lips touched hers again, and again her synapses lit up like a Christmas tree. She’d never experienced such a sharp physical reaction to a simple kiss. It was a full-body experience. By the time he pulled gently back she was sure she’d broken out in a sweat.

Already her lips itched to meet his again. But if she gave him all five kisses, was she agreeing to the weekend away? “I really should get home now.”

“No way.” His hands held her steady. “Five years, five kisses.”

“There’s nothing about kisses in my employment contract.” She attempted to look fierce.

“There wouldn’t be, since we don’t use an employment contract.” That naughty dimple appeared again as he lowered his lips to hers. Brooke’s lips parted instinctively, and a tantalizing tip of his tongue probed her mouth, sending a shiver of suggestion down her spine. Her knees wobbled and she was forced to hold him tighter. With her pressed against his hard chest, kiss number three was broken only by a quiet whisper. “Brooke, why did we wait so long?”

She didn’t answer. Boring explanations about her long-term career prospects had no place in this electric moment. Kiss number four crept up on them and her eyes shut tight as sensation swept through her. RJ’s hard chest felt like a safe foundation to lean on, so she let the world drift away and lost herself in his kiss. An hour could have passed before their lips finally pulled apart, she had no idea.

The streetlights, even the reflected glow from the water, seemed painfully bright when she opened her eyes.

“I expect you’re wondering if I’m going to ask you back to my apartment.” RJ looked down at her, arms still wrapped around her, holding her close.

The thought did cross my mind. She kept her mouth closed, though. She still had no idea what she’d reply if he did ask.

“I’m not.”

A tiny frisson of disappointment cascaded through her. Had this evening led him to decide he was no longer interested in her? Maybe he just liked talking to her and didn’t want to take it further. Perhaps those kisses that lit her whole body on fire had simply been a series of tests that she’d failed.

“I have the utmost respect for you, Brooke.” His expression was serious.

Her heart sank further. Was this the “you’re too valuable an employee for me to fool around with” speech?

“I know you’re a lady and would be offended if I asked you in on our first date.” He moved his hands until they were over hers. “And I’m still enough of a gentleman to resist the temptation.”