Lethal Exposure. Lori Wilde
Sebastian laughed.
“Two dozen?”
He couldn’t seem to get enough air. He unbuttoned the top button of his shirt and dialed up the air-conditioning vent, turning it up as high as it would go. “My sexual history isn’t the issue here. Rather your lack of one.”
Linc guided the Toyota onto the expressway and began maneuvering over into the HOV lane. “I prefer quality over quantity.”
“Who says I don’t have both?”
“I’m not talking about sex. I’m talking about emotional intimacy.”
“You sound like a girl.” Sebastian hooted. “I mean come on, emotional intimacy?”
“When was the last time you had a serious girlfriend? Oh, wait, you’ve never had a serious girlfriend.”
“Hello.” Sebastian spread his arms. “Happy playing the field. And that’s exactly what you should be doing.”
“With all due respect, Sebastian, I don’t think you’re the best person to be giving me relationship advice.”
Sebastian felt a twinge of something odd in the secret corners of his heart, in a place he didn’t want to examine too closely. Linc had been little more than a kid when he’d joined the army after two years of college. The whole time he was overseas Sebastian kept thinking about the day when his brother would come home. He’d imagined them out on the town together, having fun, living the bachelor lifestyle. He’d mentally planned road trips and adventure vacations. He’d envisioned Linc coming to work for him at the PR firm he’d started with nothing but his self-confidence, winning smile and glib tongue.
And while Linc had come to work for him, they’d never really had a chance to cut loose, party together or take the trips he’d planned. Keeley had seen to that.
You’re jealous.
Sebastian frowned as Linc turned onto the airport road and got into the lane leading to the terminal. Of course he wasn’t jealous. What the hell did he have to be jealous of?
He certainly didn’t want what Linc had. A bossy woman leading him around by the nose. He’d known for a long time that he wasn’t cut out for marriage. He liked his freedom too much.
He had it all. Successful business, big house in Beverly Hills, lots of money in the bank and a little black book filled with names of beautiful, high-profile women.
What more could a man ask for?
“Why are you so afraid of commitment?” Linc asked. “Considering our childhood, and the way your father treated you, I’d think you’d be hungry to find that one special woman to share your life.”
“I’m not afraid of commitment.” Sebastian reached up and yanked off his tie. He inhaled. Ahh. Getting that noose from around his neck made it easier to breathe.
Linc laughed.
“What?”
“You’re terrified.”
“I’m not afraid and besides, there is no such thing as one special woman. All women are special.”
“Spoken like a man who’s never been in love.”
That statement irritated Sebastian. What was it about people in love? They turned so smug, as if they’d discovered the ancient secret of the ages or something.
Linc pulled to the curb.
This was it. Time to tell him he was making him a partner. Maybe that would change Linc’s mind about this whole marriage nonsense. Sebastian reached into the backseat, unzipped his suitcase and took out the nameplate Blanche had wrapped in gold foil and tied with colored raffia.
Feeling awkward and far too sentimental for his own liking, he thrust the package at Linc. “This is for you.”
“What is it?”
“Just open it.”
Linc opened the package, then read the lettering out loud. “‘Lincoln Holt, partner.’”
Sebastian cocked a grin at his younger brother, smiling past the constriction in his throat. “I promised I’d make you partner.”
“Aw, hell, Seb.”
“Well?”
Silence filled the car.
“What do you say, partner?”
“Sebastian…there’s something else I gotta tell you.”
“Keeley’s pregnant?” he guessed. It was the only reason he could see for his brother’s hasty marriage.
“No, Keeley’s not pregnant.”
“Did I mention a raise comes with the partnership?”
Linc shook his head. “I can’t. Keeley’s uncle offered me a position at his security firm in Anaheim and I’ve accepted.”
“Oh?” Sebastian said lightly, as if he didn’t care, but inside his gut balled up tight against his spine. “You’re jumping ship right after I make you partner?”
Linc met his gaze. “You and I both know that I’m not cut out for public relations and this job with Keeley’s uncle would make use of the expertise I gained in the military.”
Sebastian felt the same way he did when Linc had told him he’d enlisted, like he’d been kicked in the gut with steel cleats. But he refused to let it show. He gave his brother his best public-relations smile. “This is really what you want?”
“It is.” Linc handed him back the nameplate.
He stuffed the damnable thing into his jacket pocket. “Then go for it.”
Relief shone in Linc’s eyes. “Thanks, man. I appreciate your understanding.”
His nose burned. The nameplate weighed heavily in his pocket. He blinked and shrugged. “Not a problem.”
Sebastian retrieved his carry-on luggage and humped it into the terminal with a backward wave at his brother. Once he was out of his Linc’s sight, he ditched the nameplate in a trash can, straightened his shoulders and moved through the security checkpoint. He found his gate and then boarded the plane, all the while managing not to feel a damned thing.
It was only when they were airborne and he had the Confidential Rejuvenations file in front of him that the familiar—but unwelcome—sensation of abandonment stole over Sebastian.
Knock it off, Black. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Focus on the job. It always saves your ass.
Work and a night on the town with a beautiful woman.
That was exactly the antidote he needed. It never failed. A new assignment in a new city and a new woman to make him forget all about these unwanted feelings of missing out on something important. He was on the road again and as soon as he got to Austin, he planned on seducing the first appropriate female who crossed his path.
After all, it had been months since he’d had a soft, willing woman in his arms and he had a reputation to uphold.
“DEMARCO,” Maxine Woodbury called down the immaculately clean corridor. She was a sixty-nine-year-old emergency-room ward secretary who’d been floated up to Confidential Rejuvenations’ sexual dysfunction unit while the regular ward secretary was on maternity leave.
“Yes?”
“You’ve got a new admit coming in.”
Julie DeMarco, R.N., suppressed a heavy sigh. It was her third admission of the day and while that was nothing unusual, the double whammy of crappy news she’d gotten in the morning mail had her feeling far less than her customary enthusiastic self.
Normally, Julie was known around the hospital