Courting Gossip. Kimberly Dean
and a cup of coffee was high on her needs list. She headed to the kitchen as she kept an eye on the TV.
The midday news reports would be the next big test. She didn’t know how Mr Fixer planned to contain everything. Was it even possible? She shook her head. Was this how he spent his days? Who went into this line of work?
‘And why?’ she muttered aloud. She found a Keurig machine on the counter and began looking for the flavour cups. The scent of Dark Magic blend was filling the kitchen when she heard the garage door opener start whirring.
Brody was back.
Her heart began beating faster, and she fluffed her hair. She didn’t know why the guy got to her. Last night was the most time they’d spent in one another’s company. The times they’d spoken before that had been short and to the point, yet her skin always felt sensitive whenever he was around. He just filled her with an insatiable need to ruffle him up. He was just so stern, controlled, stoic…and delicious.
Oh, who was she fooling? She knew exactly why she’d kissed him.
She glanced over her shoulder when he came in through the laundry room. The poor guy looked dead tired as he loosened his tie. He dropped his keys into the bowl by the door, but stopped short when he saw her.
A charge went through her when his gaze slid down her back, rested on her bottom and eventually drifted over her legs. She wasn’t a morning person, and today was unlike any other. It took her a while to get going, and she hadn’t dressed yet. She was still wearing the same purple nightie she’d slept in…the same one she’d been wearing last night when she’d laid that lip-lock on him. The skimpy little slip rode high on her thighs and slits on each side dared to go even higher. Thin spaghetti straps were all that held the thing up, and the soft material clung to her curves.
Genieve felt her slow-rising body wake up.
Her hair slid over her shoulders as she turned. She leaned back against the counter and held her cup of coffee in both hands. ‘Did you go into the city?’
He didn’t stop staring, and the heat in her belly started bubbling.
‘Sorry,’ she said as she glanced down. ‘I forgot to pack a robe, of all things.’
He nodded. He could see that.
She tugged at the short hemline, which only made the material pull tighter over her breasts. ‘I suppose I could borrow one from you, if it makes you uncomfortable.’
‘You’re fine.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Unless you’re cold.’
On the contrary. ‘It seems warm in here to me.’
And getting warmer. She took a drink of her coffee and watched him over the lip of the cup. For such a ruthless wheeler-dealer, the guy certainly didn’t look the part. He’d hate to hear it, but he was a cutie. Younger than someone she’d expect in his position, fitter and hotter. How he managed to stay behind the scenes, she didn’t know. He turned her head whenever he was within spotting distance.
He walked further into the room and put a leather folder on the dining-room table. She noticed how he stood behind the back of a chair and wrapped his fingers around it.
‘Did you just get up?’ he asked.
‘A little bit ago. I caught a clip on the morning news.’ She swept the remote off the counter and turned off the television in the next room. ‘You’ve been a busy boy.’
‘It was a productive morning.’
Good to hear. If there were problems, she was heading straight for the airport – or maybe back to that guest bedroom to hide under the covers. ‘Did you really have to mummify Samuel?’
His forehead rumpled.
‘The arm,’ he finally said. He rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Too much?’
‘I was waiting for Steve Martin to start singing “King Tut” in the background.’
He frowned. ‘We had limited time to make our point.’
‘Smoke and mirrors. I understand.’ She smothered a yawn and stretched in a way that had her nightie shifting dangerously. ‘All in all, the interview seemed like it went well to me.’
‘Better than expected,’ he said, his voice gruff. He shook his head and reached into his breast pocket. ‘There’s just one more thing that needs to be taken care of.’
He pulled out a folded set of papers and crooked a finger at her. ‘Come with me.’
He crossed the kitchen and strode straight to the fireplace in the living room. It was gas-powered. All it took was the flick of a switch and flames were jumping behind the glass doors. Genieve stopped at his side. She felt underdressed standing next to him in his suit and tie, but he seemed more discomfited than she did. She liked him off-centre. It made him seem more human. Less rigid and intimidating.
‘Here,’ he said as he passed her the papers. ‘You can do the honours.’
She set her coffee cup down on the hearth of the fireplace and unfolded the document. She wasn’t surprised. It was her escort contract with the senator. ‘You do realise that by burning this I make myself unemployed.’
‘Would you prefer those two reporters get their hands on it?’
She went quiet. Those two had truly scared her, first for her safety and now for her reputation and livelihood. Were they still in a jail cell? What were they telling the police?
Brody watched her closely. ‘Don’t worry. They won’t be a bother to you any more.’
How could he know that?
She slowly lifted her gaze. ‘What did you do to them?’
He shrugged as if it were inconsequential. ‘I applied pressure to weaknesses.’
And there was the incongruity. As handsome and clean-cut as he was, Brody fought dirty. He didn’t deal in the physical that she knew of, but with the right information the tactics were the same. She didn’t know if she should be relieved or scared.
But she did feel safer.
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