Читать книгу Courting Gossip - Kimberly Dean - Страница 8

Genieve was disoriented when she awoke. For a moment, panic flared when a bright light glared in her eyes, but she soon realised it was the sun, not intruding reporters. Brody’s house. She was at Brody’s. She rolled onto her back and waited for her heart to slow. She’d slept better than she should have, given the events of last night. Deeper. In her line of work, she didn’t often spend the night. When she did, she’d trained herself to doze rather than truly sleep. Apparently not here, though. She’d crashed.

She stretched and felt the comfortable mattress adjust with her. The house sounded quiet around her. Was Brody still sleeping?

She pushed back the covers and got up. She knew he’d stayed up late, strategising and using that evil-genius brain of his. The hallway was empty when she peeked outside the guest room. No grumpy hunks threatened to bump into her, and she felt mildly disappointed. She had to have been more than tired to kiss him last night. Delusional, really, but it had been nice.

She pushed her hand through her tousled hair. Really nice.

Tiptoeing down the hallway, she looked into the rooms. She found the master bedroom, but it was empty. Unable to help her curiosity, she stepped inside. The bed was made with hospital corners, and everything was shipshape. Was he a neat freak by nature or did he have a cleaning service come in to keep the place tidy?

Did he sleep with them, too?

Some of his patented grumpiness rubbed off on her, and she left the room as she found it. Silence still permeated the house. It felt wide and open, but welcoming in a strange sort of way. He’d brought her here to protect Samuel, she knew, but she still felt sheltered. Hidden safe in the den of the big bad wolf.

She padded on bare feet back to the living room. There were an empty mug and some papers on the coffee table, and the cushions on the sofa were rumpled. Still, she saw no signs of the man who’d brought her here.

‘Brody?’ she called.

When she got no answer, she went to the garage and discovered his car was gone. He’d told the senator he’d contact him with a plan in the morning. Apparently, he’d headed out to do that in person – leaving her all alone in his house. Interesting. She surveyed the place. Was he a trusting soul or was this a test?

It didn’t matter. She wasn’t going to do anything. She had more pride and class than that, but did he not know how much a person’s space told about him? Although she’d already read this space…She poked at a cashmere blanket draped over a chair. There was way too much decorator influence to learn much about the man.

But what was that?

She looked out the sliding glass door to the back yard. It had been too dark to see when she’d arrived, but the sun was high in the sky now. Through the big plate-glass door she saw a fire pit, gardens, an outdoor seating area and even some birdfeeders. Now that wasn’t done by a manila-and-beige decorator. She watched a bright-red cardinal land on a ground-level feeder.

Fascinating. Now she was getting somewhere.

She went to the sofa and curled up on the rumpled cushions. The papers on the table were filled with notes. How was he planning to handle this mess? And what was he planning to do with her? His handwriting was crisp and clean, but that didn’t help her. Her brow furrowed as she tried to follow the arrows and clouds of ideas. She blew out a calming breath. She really wanted to know what he was up to, but trying to translate his notes only gave her a headache.

Grumbling in frustration, she turned on the television. By luck, she landed right in the middle of a news segment with Samuel. She sat up straighter. The senator was on the steps of the Capitol, talking to a reporter about the events of last night. Genieve held her breath as the reporter’s questions focused on the break-in. Samuel called her his girlfriend, and the interview ended with no bombshells exploding.

‘Good,’ she said with a sigh. The senator had handled the questions well, but she could see Brody’s fingerprints all over it.

She flipped through the channels, trying to find anything else, but morning news segments about cooking and weight loss consumed the rest of the channels. Did nobody see the problem there?

Unfortunately, she was as susceptible as anybody. Her stomach growled. Brody had told her to use whatever she needed, and a cup of coffee was high on her needs list. She headed to the kitchen as she kept an eye on the TV.

The midday news reports would be the next big test. She didn’t know how Mr Fixer planned to contain everything. Was it even possible? She shook her head. Was this how he spent his days? Who went into this line of work?

‘And why?’ she muttered aloud. She found a Keurig machine on the counter and began looking for the flavour cups. The scent of Dark Magic blend was filling the kitchen when she heard the garage door opener start whirring.

Brody was back.

Her heart began beating faster, and she fluffed her hair. She didn’t know why the guy got to her. Last night was the most time they’d spent in one another’s company. The times they’d spoken before that had been short and to the point, yet her skin always felt sensitive whenever he was around. He just filled her with an insatiable need to ruffle him up. He was just so stern, controlled, stoic…and delicious.

Oh, who was she fooling? She knew exactly why she’d kissed him.

She glanced over her shoulder when he came in through the laundry room. The poor guy looked dead tired as he loosened his tie. He dropped his keys into the bowl by the door, but stopped short when he saw her.

A charge went through her when his gaze slid down her back, rested on her bottom and eventually drifted over her legs. She wasn’t a morning person, and today was unlike any other. It took her a while to get going, and she hadn’t dressed yet. She was still wearing the same purple nightie she’d slept in…the same one she’d been wearing last night when she’d laid that lip-lock on him. The skimpy little slip rode high on her thighs and slits on each side dared to go even higher. Thin spaghetti straps were all that held the thing up, and the soft material clung to her curves.

Genieve felt her slow-rising body wake up.

Her hair slid over her shoulders as she turned. She leaned back against the counter and held her cup of coffee in both hands. ‘Did you go into the city?’

He didn’t stop staring, and the heat in her belly started bubbling.

‘Sorry,’ she said as she glanced down. ‘I forgot to pack a robe, of all things.’

He nodded. He could see that.

She tugged at the short hemline, which only made the material pull tighter over her breasts. ‘I suppose I could borrow one from you, if it makes you uncomfortable.’

‘You’re fine.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Unless you’re cold.’

On the contrary. ‘It seems warm in here to me.’

And getting warmer. She took a drink of her coffee and watched him over the lip of the cup. For such a ruthless wheeler-dealer, the guy certainly didn’t look the part. He’d hate to hear it, but he was a cutie. Younger than someone she’d expect in his position, fitter and hotter. How he managed to stay behind the scenes, she didn’t know. He turned her head whenever he was within spotting distance.

He walked further into the room and put a leather folder on the dining-room table. She noticed how he stood behind the back of a chair and wrapped his fingers around it.

‘Did you just get up?’ he asked.

‘A little bit ago. I caught a clip on the morning news.’ She swept the remote off the counter and turned off the television in the next room. ‘You’ve been a busy boy.’

‘It was a productive morning.’

Good to hear. If there were problems, she was heading straight for the airport – or maybe back to that guest bedroom to hide under the covers. ‘Did you really have to mummify Samuel?’

His forehead rumpled.

‘The arm,’ he finally said. He rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Too much?’

‘I was waiting for Steve Martin to start singing “King Tut” in the background.’

He frowned. ‘We had limited time to make our point.’

‘Smoke and mirrors. I understand.’ She smothered a yawn and stretched in a way that had her nightie shifting dangerously. ‘All in all, the interview seemed like it went well to me.’

‘Better than expected,’ he said, his voice gruff. He shook his head and reached into his breast pocket. ‘There’s just one more thing that needs to be taken care of.’

He pulled out a folded set of papers and crooked a finger at her. ‘Come with me.’

He crossed the kitchen and strode straight to the fireplace in the living room. It was gas-powered. All it took was the flick of a switch and flames were jumping behind the glass doors. Genieve stopped at his side. She felt underdressed standing next to him in his suit and tie, but he seemed more discomfited than she did. She liked him off-centre. It made him seem more human. Less rigid and intimidating.

‘Here,’ he said as he passed her the papers. ‘You can do the honours.’

She set her coffee cup down on the hearth of the fireplace and unfolded the document. She wasn’t surprised. It was her escort contract with the senator. ‘You do realise that by burning this I make myself unemployed.’

‘Would you prefer those two reporters get their hands on it?’

She went quiet. Those two had truly scared her, first for her safety and now for her reputation and livelihood. Were they still in a jail cell? What were they telling the police?

Brody watched her closely. ‘Don’t worry. They won’t be a bother to you any more.’

How could he know that?

She slowly lifted her gaze. ‘What did you do to them?’

He shrugged as if it were inconsequential. ‘I applied pressure to weaknesses.’

And there was the incongruity. As handsome and clean-cut as he was, Brody fought dirty. He didn’t deal in the physical that she knew of, but with the right information the tactics were the same. She didn’t know if she should be relieved or scared.

But she did feel safer.