Читать книгу A Shameless Seduction - Janelle Denison - Страница 8

“I NEED A WOMAN.”

“You most certainly do. Maybe if you got laid every once in a while you wouldn’t be so uptight at the office.”

Cole Sommers shot his younger brother a tolerant look from across the expanse of his polished oak desk. “Ha-ha, very funny, Noah. You’re a laugh-riot.”

Noah chuckled despite Cole’s unhumorous tone. “Hey, it’s the truth. Sex does wonders for a guy’s attitude. Take me for example. I’m always in a great mood.” His trademark bad-boy grin made an appearance, making his blue eyes gleam with satisfaction and purpose. “And judging by your surly attitude lately, I’d say it’s been a while since you’ve blown off some…steam, among other things.”

Cole grunted in reply. Reclining in his chair, he rolled his shoulders, inwardly admitting that he had been tense and restless lately. He just wasn’t sure if it was a result of not getting laid, or rather the culmination of some unstimulating sex. The last brief affair he’d had nearly six months ago hadn’t been all that mind-blowing and had left him feeling like something crucial had been missing…like an emotional connection. As a result, he’d become more discriminating when it came to dating and sexual relationships, which had narrowed the field of women considerably and left him celibate and even more irritable than normal.

But with no woman constraining him he could concentrate full-time on his true love. His P.I. firm was his mistress, and Sommers Investigative Specialists was demanding enough to occupy his days and nights.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Noah said, breaking into his thoughts. “Does that mean I’m right?”

“Hardly,” Cole drawled. “Love ’em and leave ’em is your motto, not mine.”

“Hell, you don’t even love ’em.” Noah stretched his long, jean-clad legs in front of him and clasped his hands behind his head. “That’s the whole problem, Cole. For you, work comes before pleasure. It’s always been that way.”

“I’ve had my share of relationships,” he refuted. But Noah was right about his dedication to his work. The wealth of responsibilities he’d taken on at a very early age was all he’d ever known. He wasn’t complaining. He loved his job and career. So, at the age of thirty-three, he’d pretty much resigned himself to being a confirmed bachelor, and he was fine with that status. Work and past obligations had consumed him, a single-minded trait that stemmed from the bitter divorce of his parents, his mother’s tragic death and then the loss of the one man he’d always looked up to and thought of as his own personal hero.

Unerringly, his gaze shifted to the eight-by-ten picture of his father hanging on the wall in his office. In the candid photo, his dad was dressed in his police uniform and Cole was standing next to him, a beaming young teenager without a care in the world. That had been years before his father had been shot in the line of duty and Cole’s entire life and future had shifted in a way that he’d never, ever expected.

Cole’s strict work ethics had been borne out of sheer preservation—for him and his younger siblings. Yet despite the burden and duties he’d accepted as his own, he’d never resented the choices he’d made. He’d like to believe that the past had made him a stronger, better man—albeit one without as great a sex life as his carefree brother.

“If you’ll remember correctly, I was left with a family to support at the age of twenty-one,” he reminded Noah. “That didn’t exactly leave a whole lot of time for play.”

The mention of their father’s death sobered Noah and softened his features. “You did a damn fine job with me and Joelle. And you’ve spent the past ten years building this investigative firm into a reputable agency. Hell, we’re all gainfully employed because of you. So maybe it’s time you put a little fun and excitement into your life and enjoy whatever comes your way.”

Cole grinned wryly. “Is that your answer to everything?”

“Most things, yeah,” Noah admitted unabashedly. “The fun balances out the stress. Wanna place a bet here and now that I live longer than you?”

“Because of all that great sex you’re having?”

Noah’s grin broadened. “I’m telling you, Cole, you really ought to give it a shot—on a regular basis, that is.”

A frustrated breath eased out of Cole. “Do you think we can get past dissecting my sex life?”

Noah smirked. “You mean your nonexistent sex life.”

“Thank you for reminding me of that. Repeatedly.”

“Hey, us guys have to stick together. You’ve spent a whole lot of years looking out for me, so I’m trying to repay the favor.”

Cole shot his brother a pointed, direct look. “Can we get back to the original discussion?”

“Sure.” Noah sat up straighter in his chair, affecting a serious demeanor. “Let’s see, you need a woman and you think I can supply one for you. Is that it?”

Cole cringed when his secretary, Melodie Turner, walked through his open office door just in time to hear Noah’s outrageous comment. Her deep brown eyes grew wide with surprise, which quickly ebbed to curiosity as her gaze slid from Noah to Cole. She studied him with a look of feminine interest that made his skin prickle and the heat of awareness settle deep in his belly.

He shook off the subtle reaction and damned Noah for putting thoughts of sex into his head. Dressed in a conservative navy dress that covered her from neck to calves, and with her hair in a neat and tidy French braid, his prim and proper secretary was the last woman to inspire lustful thoughts. Or so he’d been trying to convince himself for the past few months.

She was pretty enough in a fresh, wholesome kind of way, but she wasn’t even close to being the type of woman he’d favored since graduating from college years ago. Melodie was too sweet, innocent, and nurturing for his tastes. A quintessential good girl who looked prime for the prerequisite 2.5 kids, dog and house in the burbs. After raising his brother and sister, he wasn’t in a hurry to repeat the process with kids of his own, if at all. Cole had no desire to be tied down. He liked his freedom—to come and go as he pleased, to stay as late as he wanted at the office—the only responsibilities being those he inflicted upon himself.

If his own personal credo wasn’t enough to give him a much needed jolt of reality, then there was the important fact that he’d hired Melodie two years ago as a favor. His efficient secretary was the only child and daughter of Richard Turner, who’d been his father’s sergeant and best friend, and had become Cole’s mentor after his dad’s death. The elder man had been grateful that his little girl had accepted the position at the Sommerses’ agency and was working for a man Turner highly respected and trusted.

Cole stamped that as a mantra in his brain, certain Richard wouldn’t appreciate knowing he’d entertained a fantasy or two of peeling off those buttoned-up dresses from his daughter’s body and finally getting an eyeful of the curves he suspected hid beneath the loose material. He’d often wondered if her breasts were as full and lush, and her legs as long and sleek, as he suspected. And did she wear serviceable cotton underwear, or lacy, silky lingerie that hinted at a softer, feminine side?

His brother cleared his throat, intruding on Cole’s private musings. He jerked his gaze back to Noah, who wore a goofy grin on his face.

Cole shifted in his seat, realized he was semi-aroused, and experienced a moment of disgust. What the hell had gotten into him? Christ, maybe he did need to get laid as his brother had suggested—especially since provocative thoughts of his secretary were beginning to distract him more and more lately.

He’d left his door open because his conversation with Noah wasn’t what he’d consider a private one. Melodie had been in his office plenty of times when he’d discussed a confidential case with his brother or Joelle. Her knowledge of his clients and cases was what made her such an exceptional, proficient secretary.

Keeping that in mind, he did his best to ignore her presence as she walked across the room to his oak cabinet to put away a client file and other paperwork. He figured she would become familiar with the Russell case quickly enough. As soon as he talked to Noah, he planned to hand over the contract and initial statement he’d taken from Elena Russell, so she could type up the report for him before he began the investigative process.

Inhaling a deep breath to clear his mind, he refocused on his brother. “Let me give you the details of the case from the beginning, so you quit jumping to wrong conclusions,” Cole said meaningfully. Leaning forward, he opened the file on his desk and scanned the information he’d jotted down earlier that morning. “My client, Elena Russell, owns a shop in Pacific Heights which deals primarily in selling antique jewelry and rare collectibles she’s acquired from collectors and estate sales.”

“Pacific Heights?” Noah interrupted, then followed that up with a long, low whistle. “That’s a ritzy part of town. What’s a rich girl like her doing hiring a middle-income agency like ours?” he joked.

Cole had asked Elena the same thing, albeit a bit more tactfully. “She wanted someone outside of her social set to make sure her request for investigative services was kept as private as possible.”

“Did you tell her that’s why we’re called private investigators?” Noah drawled with amusement.

Cole rolled his eyes. “I figure if she wants to throw her money our way, who am I to question her reasons?”

“Point taken. What’s the name of the shop?” Noah asked, his own P.I. instincts kicking into gear.

“Heritage Estate Sales. Considering where the business is located, Elena has built quite an elite, wealthy client base over the years and has earned a reputation for the quality of the antiques and collectibles she sells, and for being fair, reliable and honest…until now.”

“I take it someone is trying to besmirch her reputation?”

Cole nodded. “Yes. That would be her ex-lover, Jerry Thornton, a real estate magnate. According to Elena, during their one-year affair Jerry gave her an antique, five-carat European diamond ring that was appraised at over twenty thousand dollars. When the relationship ended, he asked for the ring back. She’s holding on to the trinket claiming it was a gift, but Jerry is saying that she stole it from his collection of vintage jewelry, and he’s just filed a lawsuit to that effect. He’s been very public and vocal about his accusation, which has affected Elena’s business and her reputation.”

Noah rubbed a hand along his stubbled jaw as he mulled over the information he’d been given. “Maybe she did steal the ring.”

“Maybe,” Cole agreed, not discounting anything. “Except Elena says there’s a personal letter that Jerry wrote to her that says he gave her the ring as a gift, and states that it’s hers to keep forever as a token of the love they shared.”

A deep chuckle escaped Noah. “A real romantic, eh?”

“Romance didn’t even come close to what the two obviously indulged in. Apparently Jerry and Elena were fond of writing explicit love letters to each other, and it was in one of these erotic exchanges that he promised her the ring.”

“No doubt, in the heat of the moment,” his brother commented with sexual humor, which gained a small grin from Cole. “I take it she doesn’t have the letter on hand.”

“No, and she needs it to prove she’s innocent and clear her name.” From the corner of his eye, Cole watched as Melodie closed the cabinet drawer, then headed toward his desk with a stack of papers in her hand.

He absently flipped through the notes in the Russell file as she stopped beside his chair, sorting out the credit reports, invoices and contracts that needed to be reviewed and signed. She shifted and reached, and Cole caught a whiff of a soft, floral scent that wrapped around his senses and wreaked havoc with his concentration—and restraint. Her hip brushed his arm, inciting another damnable rush of heated desire he was hard-pressed to ignore.

He clenched his jaw and continued where he’d left off. “Elena claims the letter is at Thornton’s hilltop mansion, tucked safely away in a monogrammed leather box she gave him for his birthday. The last she saw of the box, it was in his library.”

“And she wants you to break into Thornton’s house and find it?” Noah asked incredulously.

“No, she doesn’t want me to break in,” he shot back, his tone more irritable than was warranted. He inhaled deeply, which did little to soothe the racing pulse that Melodie’s nearness had incited. “Two weeks from this weekend, Thornton is hosting a charity auction at his place for the rich and richer, and she managed to get ahold of two tickets to the formal affair. Since Thornton wouldn’t appreciate her attending the event in his house, it gives me the perfect cover to get in and find that letter.”

Noah shrugged. “Sounds easy enough.”

Yes, at least that part of the case was uncomplicated, Cole thought. Unfortunately, Elena’s other request wasn’t as simple.

Finally, Melodie slowly moved away from him and headed for the door. He breathed a sigh of relief. “This part of the case brings me around to needing an experienced, sophisticated woman who can play up the sexy siren act as my date. A one-night, no-strings-attached kind of deal.” Before his brother could issue another smart-ass remark about his sex life, he explained the stipulation Elena had insisted upon. “Since the letters Elena exchanged with Thornton are risqué and suggestive, and she’s uncomfortable with a man reading what she wrote, she requested that a woman read the letters to find the one that mentions the ring as a gift.”

“Ahh,” Noah said in understanding. “Now I get it.”

Closing the Russell case file, Cole clasped his hands on top of the folder. “Considering the bevy of females you know, I figured you could help me out. And if I could have my choice, I’d prefer if the woman who accompanies me to the charity function isn’t a complete airhead.”

“So you want sexy, stunningly beautiful, and intelligent.” A grin quirked the corner of Noah’s mouth. “Man, you don’t ask for much, do you?”

Cole glanced past where his brother sat, noticing that Melodie had paused at the door. One slender hand rested on the frame and she’d cast a glance at him from over her shoulder. She’d obviously listened to the end of his conversation with Noah and was watching him in a way that made him feel way too warm. Their gazes locked, and she dampened her bottom lip with her tongue in a slow, sensuous glide that contradicted her wide eyes and guileless expression.

He felt the stroke of her tongue in places too long denied. With effort, he banished his train of thought before his body betrayed his work ethic to keep business separate from pleasure.

“Did you need something, Mel?” he asked just as the office phone rang out in the reception area.

She shook her head, causing her tidy braid to slap against her shoulder blades. Still, she didn’t leave, and there was a feminine kind of longing in her soft brown eyes that added to the growing sexual awareness pulsing through his bloodstream.

“Uh, the phone’s ringing,” he said in a neutral tone, which finally pulled her from her daze and got her moving down the hall.

Noah sat up straighter in his chair. “That woman has it bad for you, Cole,” he said in a low tone of voice.

Startled by Noah’s comment, Cole frowned fiercely at him and attempted to brush off his claim. “Melodie is like a sister to me, for God’s sake.”

Noah laughed, a low, devilish sound. “Well, I can guarantee that she doesn’t think of you as a sibling.”

“How would you know?” Cole asked, keeping his composure calm and unruffled.

“You really don’t see it, do you?” Noah shook his head in disbelief. “God, for a trained P.I. you sure are obtuse sometimes.”

Cole didn’t appreciate the insult, and refused to be baited into revealing anything his brother could use against him where Mel was concerned. “See what?” he asked, very interested in finding out what, exactly, his brother had observed.

Noah stared at him for a long, penetrating moment. “Let’s see, where do I start?” He lifted his hand and began ticking off each point on his fingers. “Mel arrives early, stays late and brings you lunch when you don’t go out and get something for yourself. She picks up your stuff at the dry cleaners while she’s at it, runs personal errands for you and is at your beck and call for the ten or more hours a day she works at this office. Figure it out for yourself.” Noah stood, once again adopting that devil-may-care attitude of his. “As for that woman you need, give me some time and I’ll see what I can do for you.”

“Thanks,” Cole murmured as Noah exited his office.

Once he was gone, Cole jammed his fingers through his hair and dragged his palms down his face. Despite his own reaction to his secretary, and the fact that for months now he’d denied the growing attraction making itself known, he was completely shaken by his brother’s observation about Melodie. And how had he missed the overt clues of her feelings toward him?

Cole shook his head in amazement. Obviously, his subconscious had put blinders on when it came to his secretary’s interest in him.

“And they’d damn well better stay in place,” he muttered to himself. Because there was no way in hell he’d ever get personally involved with Richard Turner’s daughter.

IF COLE WAS in the market for a woman, then Melodie wanted to be the one to fill that role…in any capacity he might need. Even if she had to settle for a temporary, one-night date for the sake of business. Unfortunately, she had no idea how to convince her boss that she was the right woman for that job, or more importantly, the right woman for him.

“Dream on,” she muttered to herself as she sank dejectedly into the chair behind her desk in the reception area of the firm.

She shook her head as she realized the irony of her remark. Gorgeous, sexy Cole Sommers had been a part of her dreams and fantasies for more years than she cared to recall. She’d met him for the first time when she was sixteen and her father had brought him home for dinner one night after his dad, John Sommers, had been killed. She could still distinctly remember the butterflies that hatched in her stomach whenever he glanced at her with those dark, velvet-blue eyes of his, the way her entire body tingled whenever he was near, and how her heart skipped a beat when he talked to her in that deep, smooth voice of his.

Twelve years later and he still had that same sensual effect on her. And she was still smitten, still dreaming, still fantasizing of him—and he was oblivious to her, other than her position as his faithful, efficient secretary.

Not only did she want Cole to notice her as a woman, but she’d spent the past two years at the firm trying to prove her capabilities in the P.I. business beyond her secretarial duties. She’d been intrigued by the various cases from her very first day on the job and enjoyed helping Cole, Noah and Joelle research cases—doing background checks, and learning the ins and outs of the business. Now, she was ready to take that next step, ready to show Cole that she could handle more than front-end paperwork.

Noah entered the reception area from Cole’s office, and Melodie sat up straighter in her chair, shoved her personal secrets away for the time being and started thumbing through the payables she needed to process.

“Hey, sweet stuff,” he said, calling her by the flirtatious nickname he’d christened her with the first week she’d come to work for the firm. “I’ll be out tomorrow for most of the day working on a case, so if you need me for anything important, just give me a page.”

She smiled, having always genuinely liked Noah. He was one of those men who had charisma aplenty and liked all women. He was, undoubtedly, a “chick magnet” as his sister was fond of saying, though Melodie had never thought of him as anything more than a friend and surrogate brother. “Will do.”

He glanced at his wristwatch. “It’s almost five-thirty. Why don’t you take off early?” he teased, knowing full well she usually didn’t leave the office until well after six most nights. “You deserve the break.”

Take off early and do what, she wondered. Her nights were so routine and boring it was pathetic—pick up fast food on the way home, eat it while watching Entertainment Tonight, take a shower, slip into comfy pj’s, check in with her dad, then watch TV or read a book until she fell asleep. Occasionally, on the weekend, she’d go out to dinner and movie with a friend, nothing overly exciting or wild. Then again, having been raised by a police sergeant, she’d never strayed from what was expected of her—discreet, proper behavior, in public and in private.

“Even Joelle enjoys the benefits of leaving on time,” he said, gesturing to the office with its lights out for the evening.

“Joelle has a handsome husband to go home to,” she countered.

Noah feigned a shocked look. “You mean to tell me that you don’t have some hot guy waiting for you to get home at night so he can ravish you?”

Didn’t she wish. She rolled her eyes at his exaggeration. “Hardly, and you’re a big tease.”

“Well, here’s a little tip for you.” He leaned close, as if sharing a well-kept secret, and gave the tip of her braid a mischievous tug. “You’re not going to find Mr. Right spending all your time here.”

Melodie blinked, unsure whether to take his remark as a subtle warning about his brother, a little friendly advice, or if he was just humoring her with his usual fun-loving nature.

He strolled toward the front door. “No matter how you spend the evening, have a good one, sweet stuff.” With a playful wink over his broad shoulder, he was gone.

Sweet. The word grated on her sensible nerves, and her lips pursed as if she’d just swallowed something sour. She was tired of being thought of as sweet. Sure, being polite and courteous had its time and place, but she was beginning to realize that being amiable had gotten her absolutely nowhere with men. She’d always been prudent and modest, and as a result her life was boring, tedious and so very predictable.

She was tired of being good, of always doing the right thing and making levelheaded choices. She had nothing substantial to show for her exemplary behavior and discerning ways—no social life other than a few close friends, no steady dates and certainly no sex life, either. At twenty-eight, she definitely wasn’t having fun. She was turning into an old maid while wishing she had the nerve to be hip and contemporary, someone worldly and wise when it came to men and relationships.

Bracing her elbows on her desk, she propped her chin in her palm and allowed a smile to curl the corners of her mouth as she imagined how much fun being bad would be for a change. To break out of the monotonous pattern her life had become. To assert herself and go for what she wanted. No holds barred.

What she wanted was Cole Sommers and the chance to show him how much she’d learned about the business over the years, and the perfect opportunity had presented itself in the form of him needing a woman. She might not be sexy or a stunning beauty, but she was intelligent and knew the investigative business better than most. Certainly being familiar with the Russell case had to account for a few extra points in her favor, as well.

Excitement and anticipation rolled through Melodie as a plan formed in her mind, and when Cole entered the reception area a few moments later, she was mentally prepared to fight for this case—and her man.

“Here’s the new file on the Russell case.” Stopping in front of her desk, he set the folder in an empty wire basket, his demeanor strictly business. “Once you have the initial report and client invoice typed up, I’d like the file back. This evening, if possible. I have a few things I need to follow up on early tomorrow morning.”

“Consider it done.” Another late night at the office—by her own choice, she knew. It was a precedent she’d set of her own accord, so she couldn’t blame Cole for assuming what had become routine on her part. She loved her job, but there was no denying she craved more excitement and adventure than typing up a report could provide.

He turned back around to leave, and she abruptly stood up before she lost the nerve to address him. “Cole?” His name escaped her on a breathless note.

Slowly, he faced her again, regarding her with a casual kind of directness she’d grown used to. Yet there was something in the depth of his blue eyes that made her heartbeat quicken in her chest and her knees feel weak.

“Yes?” he asked, his curt tone dissolving whatever awareness and warmth she’d seen in his expression a moment ago.

She’d never felt intimidated by Cole’s size, but his presence in front of her suddenly seemed very overwhelming. He was a tall, powerfully built man and possessed a potent combination of virile strength, rugged allure and understated confidence. Lean and muscular, he was all male—from his thick, tousled sable hair, to the knit shirt that molded to his broad chest, and fitted khaki trousers that defined his hard thighs and long, sturdy legs. Definitely a candidate for the strong, gorgeous, silent type, and attracted her like no other.

A bout of anxiety knotted in her belly and her throat closed up tight. She swallowed hard, reminding herself that nothing risked equaled nothing gained—words she planned to embrace from this moment on if she didn’t want to live the rest of her life like a nun. “I heard you and Noah talking about the Russell case and your comment about needing a woman to accompany you to Thornton’s charity auction.”

He blinked, his features taking on a curious edge tinged with a bit of caution. “Do you know someone in the business who could help me out?”

“Well, sort of.” Her fingers twisted together at her waist, a nervous habit she’d developed as a young girl, and she consciously pried her hands apart and set them at her sides. “I do have a solution to your problem.”

“You do?” he asked in surprise, his rich tone dropping an octave.

She nodded succinctly, inhaled a deep breath to bolster her fortitude, and blurted, “Let me be the woman you need.”

His dark brows rose a good half inch on his forehead and his entire body grew tense. “Excuse me?”

Her face flushed warmly at her slip. She hadn’t meant to sound as though she was propositioning him. “For the charity auction,” she rushed to clarify.

He shifted on his feet, the suggestion seemingly making him very uncomfortable. “I don’t think so.” His voice was low and thick.

“Why not?” She’d been taught by her father never to question or dispute a voice of authority, and while a part of her was shocked at her own out-spoken behavior, she couldn’t deny that the freedom to be assertive felt liberating.

Bracing his hands on his lean hips, he frowned at the subtle challenge in her tone. “Because I didn’t hire you to work on cases.”

“What if I want to work on this case?” she argued, shocking herself yet again. She pulled back her shoulders to maintain an air of confidence. “I know the business, and I’m familiar with the case. Besides, how hard can it be to pose as your date and read love letters? You need a woman for the job, and the last I checked, I definitely fulfill that requirement.”

His gaze fell to her chest, and she realized that, with her shoulders back, the material of her dress was pulled tight across her breasts. To make matters worse, his heated stare caused her nipples to pucker in reaction.

He lifted his gaze back to her face. A muscle in his cheek ticked, and a harsh sigh unraveled out of him as he pushed his fists deep into his trouser pockets. “Melodie…I don’t think your father would appreciate me putting you in a potentially dangerous situation.”

She inwardly cringed at his placating tone, feeling anything but calm and mollified. She knew her father echoed Cole’s sentiments, believing she belonged in a safe environment, free from any outside negative influences. He had, after all, suggested that she go to work for Cole as a secretary because Sommers Investigative Specialists was a respected firm run by a man her father knew and trusted. It was bad enough that she’d grown up with a father who’d spent too many years trying to shelter and protect her from any adverse situations; she didn’t want or need that same attitude from Cole, or anyone else for that matter.

With that in mind, she asserted herself once again. “As a grown adult, I can take care of myself and make my own decisions. And if it makes you feel any better, my father would never have to know about me and the case.”

He shook his head, causing a lock of sable hair to swipe across his forehead. “I can’t take that chance…with you.”

Because she was Richard Turner’s daughter, she knew with a sinking feeling in the pit of her belly. As if she didn’t have enough problems getting his attention, he was using her father as a barrier between them. And Cole was principled enough to stand by that decision for the next fifty years. The man was steadfast and true, and, while she admired that quality about him when it came to his job, at the moment, his tenacity frustrated the heck out of her.

She started around her desk toward him, refusing to give up or back down from what she wanted for a change. “Cole—”

He held up a hand, halting any further debate. “I’m sorry, but I won’t change my mind. Your talents are better suited in this office, not out in the field. End of discussion.”

She knew he hadn’t meant his words to be condescending, but his backhanded compliment about her “talents” stung her feminine pride, especially since she knew that Cole depended on her for more than her secretarial skills. She thrust her chin out as he turned and walked back to his office. The two of them were far from finished, this issue between them far from over.

If Cole didn’t have faith in her ability to be the woman he needed, she’d just have to figure out a way to prove him wrong.