Читать книгу Courting Gossip - Kimberly Dean - Страница 7

‘What do you mean, Nina and Morgan have a thing?’ Brody demanded as he followed Genieve into his house. ‘You didn’t think that was important for me to know?’

Genieve rolled her eyes. She was curious to see where he lived, but apparently they had to have this discussion first. She took off her shoes and let them dangle from her fingers. ‘It’s not a thing yet. It’s still…brewing. And of course it’s important. That’s why I’m telling you now.’

His gaze dropped to her bare feet as he bumped the garage door closed, and she curled her toes into the woven rug. She wasn’t trying to get personal. She was tired. All she wanted to do was clean up and find some place to lie down and rest.

‘Damn,’ he muttered. ‘I thought you had at least closed down that line of inquiry with the police.’

‘Morgan? No way. You haven’t had to deal with him. He saw that business card, and he’s not going to forget it.’

She’d finally found time during the drive over to call Nina and warn her. Her boss needed to know what had happened and, worse yet, who had been assigned the case. The detective would be knocking on Luxxor’s door soon. It had been bad enough when he’d recognised her, but then the senator had dropped the company’s business card. Morgan didn’t have to be a genius to connect the dots.

Goosebumps rose on Genieve’s skin. She didn’t want to be around when those two titans went at it. The detective would be grilling Nina even harder now, and Nina would be standing up to him in her four-inch heels. Even when getting bad news in the middle of the night, her boss had been sharp and efficient as she’d calculated Luxxor’s response. Once or twice, though, Genieve could have sworn she’d heard a tremble in Nina’s voice. It made her feel guilty, even though she didn’t know what she could have done to prevent what had happened.

‘Well, Luxxor’s problem is Nina’s to address,’ Brody said.

He locked the door and moved by her. When he turned on the light, she saw a kitchen with a centre island, warm wood tones and an expanse of windows facing the darkness outside.

Yet her concentration was fully on him. She folded her arms over her chest and leaned against the doorframe. ‘I’m Luxxor.’

‘You’re not Luxxor, you’re…a hot potato.’

A potato? Really? That was the best analogy he could come up with? She lifted an eyebrow. ‘So why did you volunteer to hold me?’

The expansive space of the kitchen shrank as he stared at her, and Genieve could hear the clicking of a clock on the wall. He and Nina had argued on the phone about who would take care of her, and that had put a kink in her nose. She was a grown adult. She could fare for herself just fine. Her thoughts hadn’t mattered, though, because both Nina and Brody were in containment mode. And they had a point…She did her best work under covers; she wasn’t used to being in the spotlight. When they’d left the decision up to her, she’d been caught in the middle. But she’d chosen Brody. The decision hadn’t been difficult. She trusted Nina more, but her boss had enough to deal with right now with Morgan hot on their trail. Besides, Genieve was curious. He’d brought her here, to his home.

‘I have bigger oven mitts,’ he said, not cracking a smile. He hefted the suitcase up to carry it instead of letting it roll. ‘The guest bedroom is this way.’

Genieve followed him, but stopped in her tracks when he flipped on a light that showed a vaulted living room with a two-way fireplace and a spiral staircase to a loft. The place wasn’t what she’d expected: stainless steel, glass and hard edges. Oh, it was sharp, but it was also inviting and…homey.

‘Politicians must be getting into a lot of trouble these days,’ she mused. Then again, when weren’t they?

He looked around impassively. Or was that defensively?

‘I like it, Brody,’ she said softly. She had to start figuring out how to read him. She could judge most people with a glance, but he was so closed and contained.

‘Thanks.’ He frowned as if he was trying to read her and having just as little luck.

‘It’s beautiful,’ she said.

Too beautiful, in fact.

She wandered over to look at a blown glass vase filled with iridescent balls. Pretty, useless baubles? The décor didn’t exactly scream Brody Haynes. She bit her lip. She wasn’t quite sure what would, but it wasn’t this. Warning signs went off in her tired head. ‘Do you have a girlfriend?’

That stopped him in his tracks. He paused at the mouth of the hallway and turned back towards her. ‘What? No. Not…not right now.’

She ran her finger along the lip of the vase. ‘Your house was decorated with a feminine touch.’

He rolled a shoulder. ‘I hired a female designer.’

Genieve cocked her head. ‘And you slept with her.’

That got a reaction out of him. His eyebrows jumped and his gaze sharpened. ‘How would you know that?’

She walked towards him, copying the walk she’d picked up from Nina – one foot directly in front of the other. It was a catlike prowl, and Genieve was suddenly on the hunt. So he did have a sex drive. He wasn’t human skin over a robotic core, although for some reason he wanted her to think he was.

‘You just told me,’ she said, her lips curling up in a slow smile.

He looked around his home again, this time with more attention. ‘It was a short-time thing.’

‘But she decorated with thoughts of living here.’

The look he gave her was one of surprise, but he shook it off. ‘Guest bedroom,’ he repeated.

Interesting. Genieve followed him with that same predatory walk, but the carpet was like clouds underneath her feet. She wasn’t a predator at heart. She was more of a kitten.

She glanced into darkened rooms as they passed. ‘Were you here when I called?’

They were in McLean, Virginia. It was right across the Potomac from DC and one of the higher-end real-estate markets in the region. The drive in the middle of the night hadn’t been bad, but commuting in the daytime would be a bear. Although she could see him blending in with commuters on the Metro. He’d pick up all kinds of information as he sat on the trains, quietly watching and analysing the other riders.

‘I was at my office.’

‘Burning the candle at both ends? You know what they say about all work and no play.’ She put her purse on the dresser beside the door. The guest bedroom was lovely, no doubt due to the dumped decorator. She didn’t like it so much any more. The place needed more colour, more flair.

‘I stay there sometimes during the week. Trouble always seems to pop up during the overnight hours.’

And she counted as trouble. Some of Genieve’s pleasure faded.

‘You sleep at your office?’

‘It has a sofa and a shower. That’s all I need.’ He put her suitcase on a chair on the far side of the room. ‘Will this do?’

She’d woken him tonight from an uncomfortable sleep on an office sofa. For some reason, that didn’t sit well with her. ‘It’s fine. Thank you.’

His hands settled on his hips. ‘The bathroom is across the hallway, and you saw the kitchen. Use whatever you need. We’ll figure out tomorrow what we’re going to do from here on in.’

Tomorrow. She’d been trying not to think about that. ‘What if that tape got out, Brody?’

She’d been locked in the bathroom; she didn’t know what had happened with those reporters and their damned camera. Could video be uploaded directly to the internet from those things?

With only a bedlamp on, Brody’s cheekbones seemed to sharpen in the shadows. ‘I’ll be working that angle tonight. Hopefully, you and Samuel kept them busy enough that they didn’t have time to send it out.’

He ran a hand through his hair. It was more rumpled than she’d ever seen it, but she liked it. She liked seeing the human cracks in his controlling façade. ‘Believe it or not, right now if we can’t get possession of that video card, it might actually be best for Morgan to have it.’

Genieve pressed her lips together. She doubted Nina would agree with that, and she certainly didn’t. How many times would the police watch it, claiming they were analysing the evidence? Would it be just Morgan? Police techs? Would there be a viewing party with popcorn and dimmed lights?

Brody stepped closer. Whatever was on her face, he read it this time. ‘I’m on it, Jenny.’

‘I know.’

She was caught off guard when he cupped her cheek. The touch was fleeting – there and then gone – but the warmth spread into her chest and made her lungs squeeze.

‘Let me know if you need anything,’ he said as he moved to the door. ‘I’ll be up.’

He left her alone, and she covered the spot where he’d touched her with her hand. She let out a shaky breath. Prickly and unsettled as their relationship was, she felt safe here. Protected. Yet she wasn’t fooling herself. The gossip was coming…the gossip about the senator and the redhead. She touched the tips of her hair.

She needed a shower.

She unzipped her bag, pulled out her toiletries and crossed the hallway. The bathroom was just as pristine as the rest of the place, with matching towels and tiny fish-shaped soaps in a bowl. She glowered at the fish. She was tempted to flush them down the toilet, but stopped when she realised that decorator girl hadn’t made the grade.

What kind of a woman did he go for?

Genieve sighed. She shouldn’t be looking to start any more rumours.

With a twist of the controls she started the shower to let it warm, and began stripping off her clothes: the dress that had been on the floor, the bra that had made Metro PD gawk, and, finally, the panties Brody had stashed in his pocket.

They suddenly felt intimate, moulding to her shape and clinging to her body. If she hadn’t asked for them back, what would he have done with them?

With that thought pinging around her head, she stepped under the spray of warm water.

‘Mm,’ she sighed. The rush of water felt calming. Cleansing. It wet her hair and pelted against her skin.

She reached for the soap and began sudsing up. She wasn’t a hypocrite. She liked sex, and Senator Gunderson tried to give her pleasure – but he paid to touch her. Somehow here, in Brody’s home, it felt disrespectful to have a client still on her skin.

More important, she didn’t want him there.

She lathered her body, banishing the night from her thoughts until only one memory remained. She’d been with Brody in her fantasy.

She laid her hand over her cheek again, and her eyelids got heavy. She shouldn’t.

Her soapy fingers moved down her neck to her collarbone. She really, really shouldn’t.

But she’d been yanked away from an orgasm at the worst possible time. Her belly had been knotted with unmet gratification for hours, and fear, worry and desperation had only stretched her nerves thinner. Would it be so bad to relieve that tension?

Would it help her stop looking at her unexpected housemate like a triple-layer chocolate cake?

Mmm, cake. She wanted to have him and eat him up too.

Her head fell back as she trailed her hand lower and cupped her breast. She took its weight and remembered in her fantasy how strong his mouth had been at her nipple. How hungry…

She groaned when the tender nub stiffened against her palm.

He’d been invading her thoughts more and more – during her dates and even in her off hours. He hovered there like a disapproving chaperone.

Did he think she should be spanked?

She moaned as she stroked her stomach and down to her abdomen. Her muscles squeezed as she remembered how their bellies had brushed and their legs had tangled. Gunderson had been gone for her at that point. She’d just felt Brody filling her, over and over again.

With the water heating her skin, she pushed the hard bar of soap between her legs. It bumped against her clit on the back stroke, and her knees wobbled. She braced her free hand against the slick shower wall and insistently did it again.

‘Ohhh,’ she cried. ‘Brody.’

She didn’t have to cut off his name any more. He was the one who made her hot and bothered. She was hiding in his house. He’d swooped in to carry her away when she’d been in danger.

Because that was his job.

She booted the trivial thought from her head and rubbed the bar of soap between her legs faster. It had been a long time since she’d had to bring herself to pleasure. She had the tricks of the trade to ensure she got what she needed on the clock.

But she didn’t want somebody else touching her right now. She wanted the headstrong hottie who was somewhere in this house, at this very moment.

The one who called her Jenny.

The soap dropped to the shower floor with a clunk, and Genieve began using her fingers on herself. With her eyes squeezed tight, she fought for air as she stroked her tender, swollen folds. She rimmed her opening and pushed a finger in deep.

‘Ahh,’ she panted. But this was Brody. She came back with another finger, doubling the pressure and doubling her pleasure. She stroked her clit with her thumb and imagined how his violet eyes would watch her face as he fondled her.

With a groan, she turned and braced her shoulders against the shower wall. Her hair clung to her back and her neck as the water sprayed against her breasts and her stomach. Rivulets coursed over her curves and along the seams of her legs to meet where her hand was still dancing. She spread her legs wider and propped one foot on the lip of the tub across from her. She rolled her aching nipple as the wet heat at her core built and built.

He’d cover her as he took her. If she could ever break through that hard-driven, focused exterior of his, would he cave? What would happen when his fingers stopped tapping?

Her pussy squeezed.

She’d been aroused at the hotel room, but nothing close to this. Her fingers plunged hard and fast. Finally, she let go of her breast and used both hands to get herself off. Her thumb settled over her clit and rubbed. One swirl, two swirls, three…

The climax that ripped through her was more powerful than any she’d had for months.

‘Brody,’ she gasped on an airless cry. The orgasm was long, and it was full. Her toes curled around the lip of the tub as her thigh muscles clenched. ‘Brody!’

When it was over, Genieve could barely stay upright. She sucked in air and waited for her body to stop quivering. When the water started to cool, she finally had to move. Her body felt heavy as she cleaned herself up once again. Her muscles were limp, and the tension of the night had ebbed.

It was all she could do to get herself out of the shower. Her body felt sensitive as she towelled off, and it only reminded her of Brody staring at her in that terrycloth robe. He hadn’t been so immune to her then. He’d been uncomfortable when he’d handed her panties back to her, too. She felt sexy as she pulled on a clean pair and let her nightie slide over her head.

She was smiling softly when she opened the door. Maybe she would have good dreams tonight, if she could make it as far as the bed.

She stepped out of the steamy bathroom, still lost in the haze, but Brody was suddenly there, in the flesh. He hadn’t seen her either as he was coming down the hallway, and they bumped into each other solidly. Genieve wobbled, and Brody’s head snapped up fast. He dropped the tablet he was carrying to the floor and caught her about the waist.

‘Woops,’ she squeaked as she braced her hands against his chest.

‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘Are you all right?’

She was better than all right. He was tall, warm and solid.

Her damp hair glided against her back as she looked up into his face. His body was hard. Those suits didn’t lie, but he’d stripped down to just a shirt. He’d lost the tie and rolled up the sleeves. She could feel the rock-hard strength hidden beneath the professional attire and the heat.

She leaned closer. His hands were warm.

His voice turned raspy. ‘I wasn’t looking where I was going.’

She was.

Genieve looked up at his handsome, boyish face. ‘Goodnight, Brody,’ she said softly.

His gaze got heavy, and his grip tightened on her waist. ‘Goodnight, Jenny.’

Between her legs, she felt a soft after-pulse. OK, maybe she didn’t dislike it that much when he called her that.

With her defences down, she threw caution to the wind. Impulsively, she rose on tiptoe. His eyes flared. Before he could pull back or she could think better, she brushed her mouth over his.

And felt satisfaction unfurl in her belly like warm caramel.

Oh, damn. His mouth was as warm as his hands.

She went back for another taste and felt the hands at her waist slide down and spread wide over her hips. Their mouths fitted together as she kissed him slowly and soundly. Delight gushed through her when his lips moved against hers.

Her body melted, but she made herself pull away before anything could ruin the moment. Business conflicts, regret, intruding cameramen…‘Thank you for rescuing me,’ she whispered.

She pulled away, trailing her hand over his, before walking into the bedroom and sliding between the covers. She rested her head against the pillow, but before she closed her eyes she saw him standing in the doorway, lit by the light in the bathroom. He hadn’t moved from where she’d left him, and his arms hung limply at his sides.

But she fell asleep with a smile on her face when she saw his fingers tapping away.

Maybe she got to him after all, just a little bit.

* * *

Brody leaned his hips against a desk in Senator Gunderson’s office and folded his arms across his chest. He was in the Russell Senate Office Building with Samuel and his aides, preparing for what could be the most important five minutes of the senator’s career. He looked over the players one by one. It was very important that they got this right.

‘More gauze,’ he said when the senator’s assistant stopped wrapping her boss’s arm. What was her name again? Mary? Molly? He needed to figure it out. They all had to work together on this. ‘It’s not about actually treating the wound, it’s for the cameras.’

The senator’s injury hadn’t even broken the skin. It was a bruise. No matter how much it hurt or didn’t hurt, it would act as evidence that the senator had been attacked. The problem was that bruises didn’t show up as well on camera as a big, ugly bandage. They needed to tell a story as quickly and simply as possible.

It was all about getting the voting public on their side first.

He nodded in approval when the woman wrapped Gunderson’s arm from his wrist all the way to his elbow. ‘That’s good. Samuel, get rid of the cufflink and keep that shirtsleeve rolled up. It will make it easier for the cameras to see what you endured.’

‘Thank you, Maggie,’ the senator said. He pulled on his jacket and straightened the collar.

Maggie, right.

‘You’re skipping the trolley today,’ Brody continued. He’d mapped out everything in the overnight hours. Back in the early 1900s when the House and Senate staffing had overrun their space in the Capitol, office buildings had gone up around the grounds. They were all within walking distance, but each of the seven buildings was also connected to the Capitol by an underground trolley system. It let politicians get to and from their offices quickly for votes and meetings. It also helped them avoid inclement weather or crowds, but that wasn’t the strategy for the day. Gunderson would not be going into hiding. ‘You want to be interviewed. You know the reporters on the Senate beat. Find one who likes you if you can, but don’t be obvious about it. You’re on your way to work, to represent your constituents to the best of your ability.’

‘As I always do,’ the senator said. He pulled at one sleeve, but didn’t seem sure what to do with the other covering the bandage.

‘Right,’ Brody said dryly. ‘The press is aware that you were involved in an incident at the Emissary Hotel last night. You know what to do. Take control of the interview. Play up your injury, express your outrage, stress that you were attacked – you and your girlfriend.’

At that, the senator’s head swung up. ‘How is Genieve?’ he asked.

‘She’s fine.’ Brody looked at his watch and pushed away from the desk. ‘It’s time to get moving.’

The assistants scattered to collect their things. Brody sized up the senator to make sure he looked victimised yet strong and stately. Gunderson’s silver hair looked perfect as always, but there were dark circles beneath his blue eyes. His late night showed, but that could play to their advantage.

‘Where did you take her?’ Gunderson asked as he accepted a folder from his assistant with the bowtie. It contained his schedule for the day, along with notes he would rely on heavily. Brody had already looked it over. This one interview was the only one Gunderson was doing on the day. He’d made sure his time was fully booked otherwise.

‘Somewhere safe,’ Brody said.

That was all Gunderson was going to get out of him, even though his thoughts immediately went to the bed in his guest bedroom. Jenny had still been sleeping when he’d left. She hadn’t even bothered to close the bedroom door. He didn’t know if that was a sign of trust or if she just felt safe. Probably neither. She’d fallen asleep as soon as her head had hit the pillow.

Right after she’d kissed him and revved his brain into fifth gear.

Brody shook off the searing memory. He needed to stay on task – and so did the senator.

That’s why he wasn’t going to tell him that his contract with the escort was over. He’d made Samuel hand over his signed copy before dawn this morning. Brody could feel it burning a hole in his pocket. He could barely stand waiting to put a lighter to it, but he hadn’t broken the news to Gunderson yet. The old man would put up a fight. He wouldn’t want to give up his cherry redhead, and it would show on camera. Better to let the victimised-couple story play for now. The longer he kept the bad news away from Gunderson, the better he’d perform.

Brody knew some people didn’t like the way he worked, but he got results.

And Samuel’s days with Jenny were over.

‘Everybody ready?’ he asked.

Gunderson straightened his tie and lifted his chin. ‘Absolutely. These rogue reporters will not best me. We have laws. I help make them.’

‘Yes, you do, sir.’ Brody turned to the assistants. ‘And you two know your part in this?’

‘We get him out if the interview starts to turn bad,’ the male assistant said. He glanced at his boss. ‘You do have a hearing at nine thirty, Senator.’

Brody looked at the other assistant, but she dipped her head and stared at the load of papers in her arms. He frowned. If she had a problem covering for the senator’s illicit activities, he needed to know now. ‘Maggie?’

When she lifted her face, her cheeks were flushed. ‘It’s so embarrassing what they did.’

‘And wrong.’ He nodded. Feminine disgust at the invasion of privacy would only help their cause.

He slipped on his sunglasses and gestured to the door. ‘Shall we?’

Soon the trio was headed out of the office building and across Constitution Avenue to Capitol Hill. Brody broke away from the group and followed at a distance. He was strictly a behind-the-scenes player, despite his slip in judgement last night. He adjusted his sunglasses. It was a nice day for a walk, if a person wasn’t working on less than three hours of sleep. The sky was blue, and the setting was perfect for a camera shot of the Capitol.

His gaze swept the crowd. It shouldn’t be long until the senator was spotted. The morning reporters had to be out looking for him. The report of an incident at the Emissary Hotel was out there. Brody had spent a good amount of time on the internet and checking his other resources over the past few hours. Fortunately, details of the confrontation were sketchy.

It gave them time to draw up their own. The closer they could stay to the truth, the better. He didn’t trust the senator and his team with anything too elaborate.

‘There,’ he murmured when he saw a reporter he recognised. Perfect. The correspondent was about to interview Gunderson right on the Capitol steps.

Moving back into the shadows of a cherry blossom tree, Brody watched and waited. He was far enough away that he couldn’t hear, but he could read body language. The reporter approached, and Samuel began talking earnestly. Whatever the senator’s failings, this was where he excelled. When that man looked into a camera, he connected with people.

And…there was the bandage. The cameraman moved in close when Gunderson pulled back his sleeve for all to see.

‘Nice,’ Brody murmured. He watched the aides for any sign of nervousness. The guy in the bowtie was solid, but the woman looked concerned. That was OK. It worked.

They just couldn’t let the discussion go on for long. They could not get too deep into the issue of Genieve.

A jogger sprinted past, and Brody moved over to a nearby bench. He leaned against it and tapped his fingers against the wooden back. The story of those two being a couple just didn’t ring true. Even if nobody ever found out she was a paid escort, there was the age difference. The senator’s female constituents didn’t like their sexy senior senator dating someone half his age, even if the men were impressed. Genieve was too bright a flame. Anyone would question why she was with him. At best, she’d be labelled a gold-digger.

The two just didn’t fit, contract or not.

At least that was the conclusion Brody had come up with, some time as the sun had been coming up. The kiss had nothing to do with it.

Nothing and everything.

He tried to ignore the tingle in his lips, but he rubbed them together anyway. They’d been doing that on and off ever since she’d moved in and planted one on him. He remembered the feel of her, the humid air pouring out of the bathroom, and the scent of clean, beautiful woman. His lungs expanded, and he blew out a breath that was more winded than the jogger who’d just passed.

Why had she done that? She’d been half asleep, he knew. Had she even known who he was? Or was it habit? That possibility was like an elbow to the gut, but it hadn’t stopped him kissing her back – right after his brain had kicked back into gear.

Which it needed to do right now.

Realising he’d become distracted, Brody reached up to adjust his sunglasses. It was a sign to the senator’s aide to get things moving along, but just then Gunderson tapped the reporter on the shoulder and shook his hand. It looked like things were winding up on their own as the senator and his troupe began marching again up the Capitol steps.

Brody watched until they made it all the way inside without any more reporters swooping in. He rapped his knuckles against the wooden bench and moved along, too. The first phase of his plan had gone well.

Now he just had to catch up with two novice reporters and let them know just how unwise it would be to continue spreading unfounded rumours with charges already hanging over their heads. It hadn’t taken much digging to discover one had a Peeping Tom conviction from his college days. Something about the girls’ shower…The other had a mother who worked at a bump-and-grind in a questionable area downtown. It didn’t matter if she just served drinks. He could spin that.

Brody straightened his tie and slid his hands into his pockets as he headed to the Metro entrance. As tired and ill-tempered as he was, he had no doubt Phase Two would be any different. For Jenny’s sake, he wouldn’t let it.