Back in His Bed: Boardroom Rivals, Bedroom Fireworks! / Unfinished Business with the Duke / How to Win the Dating War. Heidi Rice
And the flame seared through him like a flash fire, fanned by the rush of erotic memories tumbling through his heated brain. He flattened his palms on the pool apron and pushed, heaving himself out of the water.
At the noisy rush of water Brenna spun, the force causing the clip to lose its grip and sending the mass of red hair tumbling around her shoulders. “Jeez, Jack, when did you take up skulking in the dark as a hobby?”
He was already reaching for her when her words registered, and he grabbed a towel instead, busying his hands by drying himself off and knotting the towel around his waist in an attempt to camouflage the raging erection she’d caused. “Since when is swimming ‘skulking in the dark’?”
“Since you started doing it here.” Her hands weren’t entirely steady as she gathered her hair and secured it back on top of her head. He felt as well as saw Brenna’s eyes move over his chest like a caress, tracking downward until her cheeks reddened. When her eyes flew upward to meet his, he recognized the glow there. It had been a while since he’d seen it, and it stoked the fire burning in him.
Brenna shifted uncomfortably as he returned his slow gaze to her body, and she reached for her robe.
“It’s not like I haven’t seen it before, Bren. No need to be modest.”
Her jaw tightened, but the goad didn’t bring a retort. Instead, she stared beyond him into the dark vineyards. The silence stretched out for long minutes as they stood there, until Brenna finally cleared her throat. “If you’d—I mean, are you tr—Um, I’ll leave you to it.”
“Retreat again, Bren?”
Her shoulders pulled back and settled. “No, no retreat. But I came out here to relax, and fighting with you is not on my list of things I’d like to do tonight.”
Images of what he’d like to do tonight swam in front of his eyes, and he forcefully shut them out. His body’s reaction to Brenna might be beyond his mind’s control, but he wasn’t a kid anymore. He’d learned his lesson the hard way and, while she was very tempting…
Who was he kidding? He wanted her. Badly. “Don’t let me stand in the way of your swim.”
“Swim? Oh.” She smiled weakly. “I wasn’t planning on a swim.”
He looked pointedly at her swimsuit. “Interesting choice of attire, then.”
Brenna rolled her eyes at him as she reached for her wine glass. “I’ve had a long day,” she said as she stepped around the pots of hellebores and sank into the bubbling hot tub with a sigh. She arched an eyebrow at him. “Do you mind?”
He knew he shouldn’t, but he took the opening anyway. “Not at all.” He’d dropped his towel and taken the seat opposite her in the hot water before Brenna could stop sputtering. “We have a lot to talk about.”
Brenna closed her eyes and sank lower, until the water covered her shoulders. “Not tonight, Jack.”
She didn’t realize the vineyard was the last thing on his mind at the moment. “Why not?”
“Because I really don’t want to fight with you again. It’s exhausting, and I’m exhausted enough already.”
“Who said we had to fight?”
She opened her eyes, giving him a “get real” look. “We haven’t had a civilized conversation in years. You think we’ll succeed tonight? Under these circumstances?”
Brenna had a point, but the soft, husky voice had him mesmerized. Even her snappy comebacks lacked any real sarcasm or heat. It boded well. He leaned back, mirroring her position, and shrugged. “So far, so good.”
She laughed softly. “Well, there’s a first time for everything, I guess.”
He was actually suffering from déjà vu at the moment. Brenna, quiet if not quite relaxed, the steam rising in wisps around her face, her legs stretched out on the bench only inches from his. His body reacted to the memories, wanting to pull her into his lap…
“How are things with the hotels? Max said you were planning on expanding to the east coast?”
Brenna’s question snapped him back to the present. “Everything is going well. I’m headed to New York next week to finalize the deal.”
A small smile pulled at the corner of her mouth. “Max would be pleased. He always wanted a hotel in Manhattan.”
“And all this time I thought he just wanted a winery.” He winked at her, enjoying the look of surprise that crossed her face at the gesture.
“Well, he got that. But you know how Max was always thinking ahead to the next thing.”
“Garrett men aren’t satisfied easily.” He met her eyes evenly, and held the stare until her cheeks flushed and she broke away.
Brenna’s eyes traveled over his chest and shoulders hungrily, before she snapped them back up to his face and coughed awkwardly. “They’re also hard to please sometimes,” she retorted, but she did it with a smile on her face so he couldn’t take it as an attack.
Brenna closed her eyes again and sank a little deeper into the water. Her legs brushed against his, and she moved them away quickly. They sat there in silence for a few minutes, and he watched the tension slowly begin to ease from her body. When she finally spoke, her voice was calm and casual again. “We got the last of those grapes in today. It was a really nice yield, and they made gorgeous juice.”
Small talk seemed oddly easy at the moment. It certainly beat fighting, and his hopes that this night might turn out to be interesting grew. “Only you would call grape juice gorgeous.”
She smiled. “Gorgeous juice makes gorgeous wine. And that makes me very happy indeed.”
“What else makes you happy, Bren?” The question came out of nowhere, shocking him almost as much as her.
She sighed tiredly. “Are we going to fight now?”
He couldn’t stop the small smile her question caused, but Brenna’s eyes were still closed and she couldn’t see it. “Not unless you start it. It’s a simple question.”
Her shoulders sagged. “Fine. Let’s see.” She thought for a long moment, floating her hands on the water’s surface and humming. “Good grapes and good wine.”
Did she ever think about anything else? “Besides wine, Bren.”
Brenna pursed her lips in mock annoyance. “Um…Walks through the vineyard right at sunset—when it’s peaceful and cool, but not dark yet.”
They’d been on several memorable sunset walks together, but he didn’t think Brenna would appreciate the reminder at the moment.
“Brownie fudge ice cream. And…And…Can I say good wine again?”
“That’s not very creative.”
That caused her eyes to open again. “What can I say? I have simple needs. What about you?”
He had to think. “Board meetings where no one brings me a disaster to fix. Fast cars. Single-malt Scotch.”
Brenna shook her head. “That’s a strange list.”
“Well, we all can’t be blissful just hanging out at Amante Verano making good wine.” He shrugged.
He’d said it off-hand, but Brenna’s chin dropped and her teeth worried her bottom lip. He knew that look, too, so he waited to see what she was working up the courage to say.
“I’m very sorry, Jack.”
An apology? He’d expected a volley about the sale of the winery, or even a statement about Max, designed to play on his sense of duty to the vineyard. Not an apology. What was she angling for? “What for, Bren?”
“A lot of things. But mainly