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Two

“Cade, I’m sorry to interrupt but Bobbie Brennan is on the phone,” Donna’s voice, loud and clear, sounded over the intercom.

Startled, Kylie and Cade jumped away from each other as if they’d been blasted apart by a bomb.

Kylie’s heartbeat thundered in her ears. She’d come so close to kissing Cade Austin that she had felt the warmth of his breath on her face. She’d been in his arms, his body pressing into hers, the formidable length of him, hard and strong, revealing the force of his own desire. The intimate recall made her shake. Heat scorched her from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Cade sink into his desk chair. She walked unsteadily to the window and touched her forehead to the cool glass.

“Bobbie says it’s an emergency and she must speak to you immediately,” Donna stated.

“An emergency?” Kylie snapped to attention. She turned around, her eyes widened with alarm.

“Don’t worry, it’s probably nothing serious. Everything is an emergency to Bobbie.” Cade heaved a groan. “The cornerstones of her personality are hysterics and vengeance, and one fuels the other.”

“I told Bobbie you were in an important conference and couldn’t be interrupted but needless to say, she refuses to take ‘no’ for an answer,” Donna continued. “She threatened to come down and break into your office with a hatchet if she had to. I decided we’d better not risk it.”

“We’ve learned the hard way that ignoring Bobbie is not the way to go,” Cade said tightly.

“Do you really think Aunt Bobbie would hatchet her way into your office?” Kylie was incredulous.

“There is already a long list of outrageous things Bobbie has done, when thwarted. Taking a hatchet to my office door would not be a stretch for her.”

“Get ready, Cade,” Donna warned. She sounded like a pilot announcing an emergency landing. “I’m putting her call through on speaker phone right now.”

“Cade!” Bobbie Brennan’s shriek filled the office.

Nails on a chalkboard sounded euphonious in comparison. Kylie. flinched.

“Brent is in jail!” Bobbie screamed. “They set bail at twenty-five thousand dollars! A fortune!”

“Remember that you pay a bail bondsman ten percent which is twenty-five hundred dollars, Bobbie,” Cade reminded her.

“I don’t have that kind of money for a bail bondsman. It may as well be twenty-five million! What are we going to do, Cade? Oh, this couldn’t have come at a worse time! I’m all out of patience with Brent, this time he’s gone too far!” Bobbie’s tone grew even more vitriolic. “It’s all Artie’s fault, damn him! He’s a terrible father, he’s the cause of all Brent’s problems.”

“Tell me why Brent is in jail, Bobbie. What are the charges against him?” Cade had to ask three times before she stopped yelling long enough to hear him

“I wrote down what the cop said, but I’m crying too hard to read my writing.” Bobbie sobbed noisily.

“Shall I call Artie and ask him?” Cade asked.

“No! That loser is the reason Brent is in jail.” Bobbie’s sobs instantly ceased. “Brent has been charged with second degree burglary. You see, Artie rented out the basement of his house to this nasty young couple—I told him not to do it!—and Brent put a video camera behind a two-way mirror with a hole in it so he could tape that couple in their bedroom.”

“Tape them without their consent?” interrupted Cade.

“So they say.” Bobbie gave a very audible sniff. “They claimed they noticed a light in the mirror and investigated it and found the hidden camera, then called the police.”

“Did Brent say why he was taping this couple?” Cade asked, grimacing.

“He—Brent—said he was going to turn the tape into a movie.” Bobbie’s voice grew lower. “You know, like one of those art films.”

“An art film,” Cade echoed flatly. “Just a minute, Bobbie.” He switched off the phone. “Well, this is a new one. Brent, with art film aspirations.”

“More than likely, he planned to sell the tapes to one of those places that pays for privately made porn videos,” Kylie murmured. “In Philadelphia, a copy could go for as high as five hundred dollars.”

“Does Bobbie have her facts straight? Granted, what Brent did is sleazy and illegal but is it really burglary?”

“It sure is.” Kylie nodded her assent. “We’ve tried similar cases. Second-degree burglary covers unauthorized filming of individuals.”

“That sleazy little jerk has outdone himself this time.” Cade’s expression was equal parts disgust and impatience. He switched Bobbie back on. “Have you called an attorney for Brent, Bobbie?”

“Of course not!” she howled. “I called you! We have to get Brent out of jail right away, Cade. You know what can happen to a good-looking boy like him in a place like that!”

“You’ve seen too many prison movies, Bobbie. Nothing is going to happen to Brent in the Port McClain lockup.” Cade’s tone was both firm and reassuring. “Besides, he’s spent time there before. Remember the last time he was arrested? We decided that sitting in that cell would be a good lesson for him. He spent a week there and it didn’t hurt him a bit. In fact, he’s stayed out of trouble until now, nearly two years later, and that’s a record for him.”

“I hoped he was finally growing up. I was going to ask you to give him another chance at BrenCo.” Bobbie began weeping again.

“Bobbie, you know what Gene said. No more chances for Brent at BrenCo. It was even written in his will. I won’t hire Brent for a job here, no matter what,” Cade added with absolute finality.

“Maybe you would if Brent got himself together,” countered Bobbie, ignoring Cade’s absolute finality. “Damn Artie! He had to go and rent out the basement! You can be sure we didn’t see a dime of that couple’s rent money, Artie kept it all for himself. Cade, I can’t afford to bail out Brent and I don’t know if Artie will do it or not.”

“Then Brent can stay in jail till his hearing, Bobbie. He’s not a child, and he shouldn’t expect his parents to bail him out—literally—every time he gets into trouble.” Cade caught Kylie’s eye. She nodded her agreement

“Whose side are you on?” Bobbie swung from sorrow to rage. “Artie’s? He doesn’t care if Brent rots in jail, either!” In the next breath, her tone turned whiney. “Did you remember that Brenda and I have to take Starr Lynn to the regional novice competition in Detroit next week? We’ll have expenses—food and gas and the motel. And Starr Lyna needs an extra special skating costume. We found one that is absolutely perfect for her. It costs six hundred fifty dollars, plus tax.”

“Six hundred fifty dollars for an ice-skating costume for a twelve-year-old is ridiculous, Bobbie,” Cade said calmly.

“It’s not unreasonable, some of the girls have costumes that cost nine hundred fifty. Are you going to help us or not, Cade?” demanded Bobbie. “I can always send Brenda over to your place tonight to—”

“No, not Brenda!” Cade said so fervently that Kylie was instantly on alert. She studied him even more closely. “Look, Bobbie, let me make a few phone calls about Brent. Meanwhile, promise me you’ll at least look for another costume for Starr Lynn. You have a week till the competition.”

“We’ll look, but I doubt that we’ll find anything else so perfect for Starr Lynn. And she deserves the best, Cade. Even you know that. Call me tonight about Brent.” Bobbie hung up abruptly and with such force that the sound of the receiver slamming echoed throughout the office.

“Good Lord!” breathed Kylie.

“Don’t drag Him into it,” Cade said dryly. “Well, Ms. Public Defender, feel like taking your cousin’s case?”

“I’m not a member of the Ohio Bar. I can’t practice law in this state unless I’m granted reciprocity.”

“Which you haven’t even applied for?” guessed Cade. “Smart move on your part. Defending your cousin Brent would be as thankless a job as your last one.”

Kylie ignored the dig. “Why did Aunt Bobbie dump Brent’s arrest on you?” she asked curiously. “What are you supposed to do about it? And what’s all this about a six-hundred-dollar skating costume?”

“Six-fifty, plus tax.” Cade rubbed the back of his neck, then heaved a resigned sigh. “Even though you aren’t licensed to practice here, you fire questions like a professional inquisitor.”

“Maybe you wouldn’t mind answering them?” she prompted.

“Let me tell you a little about the Brennans of Port McClain, Kylie. At any given time, one of them is either feuding with another or feels miffed or snubbed or cheated in some way. They’ve made a life-style of backstabbing and bickering.”

“And being thrown in jail?”

“So far, jail has been the sole province of your cousin Brent, a fact for which we can all be grateful. The reason I’m so knowledgeable about the Brennans and why my number is programmed into Bobbie’s phone is because your uncle Gene annointed me Alpha Male of the clan. Gene’s brothers and their wives and kids were always trying to drag him into their civil wars, and it bothered him so much that he delegated his patriarch position to me. Gene was very good at delegating,” he added wryly.

“So you not only run BrenCo, you also mediate family feuds?”

“I’ve had far more success managing the company than I’ve had trying to keep peace among the Brennans. Reaching a consensus among that group is harder than getting a unanimous vote in the UN General Assembly.”

“I know that Uncle Artie and Aunt Bobbie’s divorce was very bitter,” Kylie murmured. “That’s really all I know about it.”

The Brennan extended family had played only a minor role in the lives of her very mobile, very nuclear family—which made it both strange and awkward that she was now involved via Uncle Gene’s will.

“Wish I could say the same,” growled Cade. “Well, let me bring you up to date. Artie and Bobbie have been divorced fifteen—or is it sixteen?—years but are still deeply entrenched in each other’s lives. They are one of those tiresome couples who are eternally obsessed with each other.”

“Obsessed with making each other miserable?”

Cade nodded. “They’re masters of the art. I suppose you could say that Brent’s problems are the result of his dysfunctional family but he’s no longer a troubled teen, he’s twenty-seven years old. I consider him to be fully responsible for his own actions.”

“I agree,” said Kylie.

He looked surprised. “I thought a bleeding heart type like you would drag out the crying towel and use Brent’s unhappy childhood and his battling parents to excuse him.”

“Maybe I would, if I were defending him in court. But since I’m not...” Kylie’s voice trailed off, leaving the obvious unsaid. “I haven’t seen Brent in years. But I do have an indelible memory of him from when we were kids. He lured me into the attic of Uncle Gene’s house by telling me that our grandmother had a trunk filled with dolls there. When I looked into the trunk, he shoved me in and locked it. I don’t think he had any intention of ever letting me out.”

“Ah, Brennan family fun.” Cade smiled sardonically. “See what you missed by not growing up here in Port McClain with the rest of the tribe? How did you get out of the trunk, by the way?”

“Lucky for me, my brother noticed I wasn’t around and figured that Brent had something to do with it. Devlin persuaded Brent to admit it and lead him to me ”

“Dare I ask how Devlin persuaded Brent?”

“He, uh, punched Brent in the nose,” Kylie confessed sheepishly. “And broke it.”

“Ah, bullying. As I mentioned earlier, it works well with certain Brennans. And I like the irony of Devlin’s progression from breaking bones to setting bones as his life’s work. That little bit of family history does explain why both Artie and Bobbie refer to your brother as ‘that thug.’ It’s one of the few things they agree on.”

“My mom and dad refer to Brent as ‘that monster.’ After the trunk incident, whenever we came to visit in Port McClain our parents kept Dev and me away from Brent. And after Uncle Artie and Aunt Bobbie’s divorce, we didn’t see much of Brenda or Bridget, either.”

“What about your other cousins, Guy and Lauretta’s kids? Did you spend much time with them?”

“No. Todd and Polly were a lot younger than Dev and me. And Ian—”

“Was an obnoxious creep?” suggested Cade. “He still is. Surprisingly enough, Todd and Polly are okay. Even likable, a fact that continually takes me by surprise.”

“Maybe they were somehow switched at birth?” Kylie suggested drolly.

“Maybe they were.” Cade grinned, then grew serious once again. “Your cousin Todd is in his junior year at Ohio State, majoring in business and Polly will graduate from Port McClain High in June. She has a scholarship to OSU and wants to study engineering. Both kids want to work for BrenCo someday and I think they’ll be assets to the company. BrenCo should be here for them to return to, Kylie. It is Gene’s legacy to his family and to this town,” he added, willing her to meet his gaze.

Kylie averted her eyes from the pull of his. She’d been warned by her uncles that Cade would apply strong pressure to sway her to his point of view—which was to keep BrenCo a privately held company with him at the head. Asking her to consider the future of the younger Brennans seemed to be yet another strategy.

She couldn’t immediately choose sides, Kylie reminded herself. She had to be like a judge and listen to all the arguments, to weigh all the evidence and information before rendering a decision. Keep the company in its current state or sell it to one of the giant firms that would merge BrenCo into their conglomerate? Her uncles, aided by cousin Ian, had invited an industry agent to town to explain the advantages of a sale and merger. She had to hear him out. Her decision was too vital to be rushed.

“Tell me why Aunt Bobbie wants to buy Starr Lynn a six-hundred-fifty-dollar ice-skating costume,” she asked lightly, in a deliberate change of subject. “Plus tax.”

She could tell by Cade’s expression that he wasn’t pleased with her blatant stall. She watched him assessing her—perhaps debating what tactic to take with this latest backstabbing, bickering Brennan who’d been inflicted upon him? Bullying, maybe? Kylie braced herself, prepared to fight back.

Instead, Cade returned to the coffee table and this time drained his cup of the dark murky brew.

“Your cousin Brenda’s daughter Starr Lynn wants to be a figure skater. I guess you could say she already is one. She’s been taking ice-skating lessons since she was four. The kid is definitely talented. She’s won a number of novice competitions—that is the level just below the juniors which is just below the seniors—and she’s being considered for admission to one of the top programs in the country at the Winterhurst Ice Rink in Lakewood. Bobbie and Brenda see Olympic gold in her future, and given Starr Lynn’s talent and drive, it’s not a totally unwarranted dream.”

“You sound vaguely fond of Starr Lynn.” Kylie settled into the charcoal gray leather chair across from Cade’s, her thoughts centering on Starr Lynn Brennan, aged twelve.

She hadn’t seen Brenda’s child in years, though she remembered when Starr Lynn had been born. Vividly. Brenda, seventeen at the time, hadn’t been married and it had been something of a family scandal, even for the Wayne Brennans living on a naval base in Europe, far from Port McClain.

“Starr Lynn is amazing out there on the ice.” Cade’s voice tore Kylie from her reverie. “She works so hard, getting up at dawn to practice, going to school and then putting in more hours of practice. Then there’s her skating and dancing lessons and all the competitions. The kid is a real trouper,” he added gruffly.

“You are fond of her!” Kylie marveled. Her eyes narrowed a bit. “What about her mother? I haven’t seen much of Brenda in the past several years but she’s always been pretty...and sexy.”

She was horrified by the acerbic note that had slipped into her voice and hoped that Cade wouldn’t notice.

A vain hope. He smiled, a smug cat-who’d-chowed-down-the-canary grin. “Brenda is still pretty and still sexy in that flashy bad girl way of hers.” He leaned back in his chair and met Kylie’s eyes. “Every now and then, Brenda decides that I would be a good match for her. I have never agreed. You can believe it when I say that Brenda Brennan holds all the appeal of a rattlesnake for me. Make that a rattlesnake about to strike and me without an antivenom kit.”

“So that’s why you panicked when Aunt Bobbie suggested sending Brenda over to your place tonight?”

“I did not panic!”

“Yes, you did.” Kylie was aware that she was entirely too elated by his rejection of her cousin Brenda.

The feeling disconcerted her. How petty, how unlike her. She was not jealous of Brenda! Yet she couldn’t deny the relief—the thrill?—of listening to Cade compare her cousin to a rattlesnake. Did she possess some long dormant Brennan vs. Brennan tendencies, which suddenly had been activated?

Cade Austin would undoubtedly think so. She saw the way he was watching her and blushed. Suddenly, an escape from his probing hazel eyes was essential.

“I’ve taken up enough of your time.” Kylie jumped to her feet and headed toward the door. “I should have called first and made an appointment. I—I’m sure you have things to do and I’m keeping you from them.”

“As president of BrenCo, I always have things to do.” Cade followed her to the door, then moved in front of it. “But I always have time for our major stockholder, of course. You don’t need to make an appointment, you have a standing one with me, Kylie. Whenever you want it.”

His back was against the door, blocking it. “Would you like a tour of the plant? Perhaps an overview of company policy? A look at our financial records and written long-range goals?” While his words were strictly business, his tone and his expression conveyed an entirely different message.

Kylie interpreted the subtext, but not quickly enough. Before she could speak, move or even breathe, Cade’s hands were on her waist, pulling her to him.

No one had ever been so physical with her. The men in her world were talkers who used words, not actions. Kylie could match any man verbally—even best them—but dealing on a tactile level was a very different playing field for her. Just as Cade Austin was very different from the men she knew. He acted first, without explanation or warning or eloquent discourse.

Kylie felt the warmth of his hard frame suffuse her. His big hands slid to her hips and settled her against his masculine strength. Instinctively her legs parted, letting her feel the full burgeoning force of his manhood.

The effect on Kylie was electrifying. The rampant sexuality of their position abruptly short-circuited the rational workings of her brain. Instead of thinking things through and behaving rationally, she ceded to the elemental craving he’d elicited deep within her. For the first time in her careful, well organized life, she impulsively acted on what she was feeling—and that was a powerful, hungry need that demanded to be assuaged.

His mouth came down on hers, taking her lips and parting them in a kiss that was unlike any she’d ever known. This was no idle or tentative getting-to-know-you kiss. Cade kissed her as if he already knew her very well, as if he knew all about her secret yearnings and would fulfill them whenever he chose.

His kiss was hard and deep and intimate, demanding and receiving her body’s most primitive, passionate response. It was a kiss outside the realm of her experience, beyond the constraints her mind persisted in placing on her emotions.

But there were no constraints now, not with Cade. He’d somehow slipped past her usual defenses and circumvented her control.

Her arms were around his neck and she was clinging to him, her anchor in the wild unfamiliar sea of sensuality. She gasped a shuddering breath when he boldly covered her breast with his hand. It was too much too fast, Kylie knew it. She’d spent years fending off unwanted intimacies, usually more bored than angered by such attempts.

But she was neither bored nor angry now. And the too-soon intimacy that Cade was taking was not unwanted. Far from it. Kylie felt the heat of his palm cupping her, felt his long fingers begin a slow massage, and she loved it. A little whimper escaped from her throat and she quivered with sensual pleasure.

Through the soft silk of her blouse, through the lace of her bra, he rubbed her nipple with his thumb. The tight bud was achingly sensitive, and she pressed against his hand, encouraging him, needing more. An erotic barrage of hot little sparks burned in the most secret, feminine part of her.

He was hard and virile and continued to press boldly against her, evoking a syrupy warmth that flowed through her. She felt soft and weak and plant. When his hands cupped her buttocks to lift her higher and harder against him, Kylie clung tighter to him, moist and swollen with desire.

The intensity of her response shocked and excited her. She’d never experienced such fiery sensuality before, she had begun to believe she was one of those strictly analytical types whose passion could only be expressed in her work. A cool, methodical woman whose thrills came from the mental gymnastics required in preparing or presenting a case in a court-room, not from a man’s kisses and caresses.

Cade Austin was proving her very wrong. He wasn’t simply a man, he was the man, and he was shattering all those myths she’d held about herself. In his arms, she’d become a passionate woman. The wild and wanton thoughts tumbling through her mind were as new and as stimulating as the feelings surging through her. And it seemed that Cade could read them all...

He scooped her up in his arms. Another first for her. She couldn’t remember ever being carried, though presumably it was her mode of transport before she’d learned to walk.

She was totally unprepared for and completely defenseless against the tantalizing sensation of being lifted in a man’s arms and held against his chest as he strode across the office.

Kylie—the stable, dependable defender of the less fortunate—suddenly felt seductive and intensely feminine, like a character out of one of those romance novels she never had the time or inclination to read. Cade was so big, so strong. He handled her with ease, laying her down on the charcoal gray leather sofa and then coming down on top of her.

Her head was spinning, her eyelids felt extraordinarily heavy. It took too much energy and effort to keep them open so she allowed them to close, plunging her into a dark world of pure sensation.

He kissed her again, and she wrapped her arms around him, savoring the hard warm weight of him. The taste of him, the feel of him was exactly what she wanted, what she needed. She slipped her hands under the jacket of his suit to knead the muscular length of his back. The cloth barrier of his shirt frustrated her; she wanted to feel his bare skin beneath her fingers. She tugged at the material tucked into the waistband of his trousers, trying to get it out of her way.

Before she could succeed, Cade pushed aside her jacket and opened her blouse. Kylie felt his fingers deftly unfasten the front clasp of her bra. She knew she was exposed to him but instead of trying to cover herself, she arched upward, yielding greater access to him.

The touch of his hands on her bare breasts unleased piercing shards of desire deeply within her, too pleasurable to even consider ending. He fondled her, stroking and caressing, making her desperate for more.

“Cade, please!” She hardly recognized that desperate, husky cry as her own voice.

“I know, sweetie, I know.” His voice was thick and raspy. “Me, too.”

Kylie reached up to touch the hard, shaven skin of his cheek. She was charmed by his inarticulate mutter. She needed no translation, she knew exactly what he was saying. That he was as wonderfully out of control as she was. That he wanted her in the same fierce way that she wanted him.

Then his mouth was on the soft skin of her breast, kissing a sensuous path to its taut center that was tingling with arousal. She held her breath as his lips closed over her nipple to gently suckle her, then moaned as flames of desire licked through her. She hadn’t known that a man’s mouth on her breasts could affect her like this. The sensation was so intense, it was exquisite pleasure bordering on acute need.

His fingers slipped beneath the layers of her panty hose and white cotton panties to caress the soft, bare flesh of her belly. She felt him trace her navel, and she reflexively sucked in her stomach to provide him easier access. He dipped his thumb into the small hollow and kindled a wildfire that streaked directly to the pulsing heart of her femininity.

Kylie squirmed, trying to clench her legs together to ease the consuming ache there. Cade moved his thigh higher between hers, pressing against her. It helped but not enough. She wanted, she needed...

“Yes?” Cade murmured.

Through the dizzying fog of sensuality, Kylie realized that he was seeking her permission to continue. She wondered why he’d bothered; he didn’t have to ask. Stopping him was the farthest thing from her mind. She wanted him with an urgency that bordered on desperation.

“Yes,” she whispered.

She had no sooner spoken the word when Donna’s voice boomed into the office once again, irrevocably shattering their private sensual cocoon. “Cade, Noah is here for your lunch meeting with the mayor.”

Cade muttered an oath. Kylie’s eyes flew open.

He was kneeling on one knee above her, in the process of sliding her panties and panty hose over her hips. Kylie gasped as the reality of the situation struck her with the force of an anvil. She was on the verge of having sex with a man she hardly knew!

“Kylie, I know this interruption isn’t what either of us wanted to happen, but—”

“Get away from me!” she ordered, her voice little more than a raspy whisper.

She was horrified, Sex on the sofa in Cade Austin’s office? What had she been thinking?

The answer, of course, was that she hadn’t been thinking at all.

“I completely forgot that Noah and I are to have lunch with the mayor today. That’s Noah Wyckoff, our senior vice president of operations.” Cade caressed her midriff, seemingly mesmerized by the contrast of his tanned fingers against the snowy whiteness of her skin.

“I don’t care who he is or who you’re having lunch with.” Kylie slapped his hands away and tried to sit up, a difficult feat with him hovering over her. “Let me go right now!”

Instead, he stunned her by picking her up again and carrying her toward a door at the far end of his office. His movements were so sudden, so unexpected that Kylie had no time to rally a protest. He’d opened the door and put her on her feet before she could utter a sound.

Kylie glanced around her. She was standing in a well-appointed bathroom—the executive washroom?—and Cade had reclosed the door, leaving her alone to repair her hair, makeup and clothing.

“Kylie, you’ll need this.” Cade rapped lightly on the door, then handed her purse to her.

Kylie snatched it with shaking fingers and swiftly slammed the door shut. He was so cool, so self-possessed! How had he recovered his wits and his composure so quickly, while she was still a shivering, quivering, unable-to-think-straight mess?

She forced herself to face the painful truth. Obviously, Cade hadn’t been as sensually enthralled as she’d been. It was a devastating conclusion, both insulting and humiliating, but Kylie had never been one to hide behind the walls of denial.

One quick glance in the mirror made her groan aloud. Her mouth was moist and swollen and looked well-kissed, her lipstick was missing in action. And her hair...Kylie winced. It was in tousled disarray. She looked like she’d been doing exactly what she had been doing—indulging in a hot sexual tryst on the office sofa!

Moments later, she heard voices in the office, Cade’s and another man’s, presumably Noah Wyckoff, whose untimely appearance had interrupted the most impassioned episode in her life. The stupidest episode in her life, Kylie silently amended, reassessing the encounter through a critical, analytical eye.

Though she had been swept away, Cade had not been over-powered by that same wild abandon. And now, viewed in retrospect, his passionate advances seemed calculated, his recovery too quick and complete.

Kylie trembled. It hurt that his seemingly spontaneous burst of passion had actually been premeditated, a means of controlling her. He had seen her attraction to him and decided to use it to his advantage. Seducing BrenCo’s major stockholder would be a real coup for the company president, bent on using her to further his own arms.

Her cheeks flamed. It was difficult enough to admit that she had lost her self-control and been ready to surrender—aching to surrender!—to a man she’d known less than an hour. But acknowledging that he had been playing sexual games with her, that she had been alone on that passion-drugged cloud, carried her to new heights of mortification. And outrage.

Her uncles had warned her that Cade Austin was ruthless and would stop at nothing to get his own way. It seemed that they were telling the truth.

Determinedly, Kylie worked on putting herself together until the mirror showed the reflection of an ummaculately groomed woman, as cool and untouched by passion as she’d always believed herself to be. She pulled open the bathroom door and entered Cade’s office.

The tall, wiry, bearded man talking to Cade started visibly at the sight of her. “I—didn’t realize you had company, Cade,” Noah Wyckoff murmured, glancing from Cade to Kylie, then back again.

“Ms. Brennan isn’t company, Noah. She owns the company,” Cade said. “I’d like you to meet—our boss.” He completed the introductions.

Kylie noted sourly that unlike herself, Cade hadn’t required a sojourn in the bathroom to eliminate any telltale evidence of their hot little interlude. She had needed a mirror, makeup, a comb and a vital rearrangement of her clothing to look as unruffled and undisturbed as he did—after no ablutions at all!

“Noah and I go back a long way,” Cade said smoothly, filling in what could have been an awkward silence. “We were college roommates at MIT, three years in the dorms, one in an apartment that almost got condemned by the health department.”

Noah chuckled at the memory. “Those were the days.”

“How very interesting,” Kylie managed to choke. She was seething. Cade spoke with the easy assurance of a host making small talk at a cocktail party. Another strike against him, for she was still too rattled to carry off a semblance of conversational patter.

She decided Cade Austin was as slick as an oil spill, which brought her to the unhappy conclusion that she had almost succumbed to the practiced charms of a smooth operator. Another appalling realization in a day that seemed to be filled with them. And it was only lunchtime!

The tension in the office was palpable. Noah cleared his throat. “Will you be joining us for lunch, Ms. Brennan?” he asked politely.

“No,” Kylie said, more sharply than she’d intended. She had nothing against Noah Wyckoff but the prospect of spending another moment in Cade’s company was intolerable.

“I have an appointment.” She swept from the office without looking back.

“I’ll be in touch, Kylie.” Cade’s voice followed her into the corridor.

A promise or a threat? Kylie mused cynically, deciding it must be the latter. Well, he was in for a surprise the next time he got in touch with her because she was prepared for him now. She knew the lengths to which he’d go to influence her, to control her. All her defenses were on alert and ready for their next encounter.

She could hardly wait.