by Lisa Weaver
And transforming her. For certainly she wasn’t the same woman she’d been only moments ago. The old Brianna never would have been bold enough to rip open a stranger’s shirt, sending buttons flying in the wake of her impatient fingers. And surely the Brianna she knew wouldn’t burn with the need to feel that stranger’s bare skin against hers while her hands trespassed all over the muscular, tanned territory she’d exposed.
The old Brianna would have jammed on the brakes, calling a halt to this insanity. Instead, she panted her encouragement while her hands journeyed downward over his chest—and lower. After undoing his belt, she unbuttoned his jeans.
Was that her husky voice, she wondered, pleading for his possession; urging him to finish what he’d started?
Her avenging angel didn’t need any encouragement. She gasped when his fingers found their way past the obstacle of her shorts to launch an intimate invasion. He was already well on his way to making good on the steamy promise behind his sensual mastery. The next cry she uttered was borne of pleasure, rather than fear.
Her own hoarse cries of sensual gratification woke her. It took a moment for her sleep-woozy brain to process that she’d been roused by the same bizarre compilation of a dream—part nightmare and part erotic fantasy—that had interrupted her sleep for the past three nights.
Ever since she’d walked in on the burglary.
She didn’t need a psychiatrist to tell her that her subconscious was working overtime. Her mind was simply blending two very different types of incidents that were emblazoned on her brain—the theft she’d interrupted at Upwords Development and the random vacation encounter with a sexy stranger that was now firmly ensconced among her fantasies.
She rubbed her eyes drowsily. Her alarm was set to go off in ten minutes. She might as well get a head start on the day.
The day, it turned out, was determined to earn a spot in the Mondays from Hell Hall of Fame. Her coffeemaker went on strike, depriving her of a much-needed infusion of caffeine. Then she went out to her car only to discover she had a flat to deal with.
The conspiracy of the fates continued when she arrived at her office and booted up her computer. There was an e-mail message from her boss in her inbox, asking her to see him as soon as she arrived. Rolling her eyes, she headed for the elevator that would take her to Trevor’s office at the top of their New York high-rise headquarters. She adored Trevor, but she simply didn’t have time in her schedule for any add-ons today. Her calendar was already groaning under the weight of an overloaded agenda.
Trevor’s receptionist greeted her when she stepped off the elevator. “Go right in and make yourself comfortable, Brianna. He’s running a few minutes late. Can I get you anything while you wait? Coffee? Tea?”
“Coffee would be fabulous, ” she enthused.
She was enjoying the delicious brew when Trevor strode through the door fifteen minutes later. The harried expression on his face told her his Monday was going about as well as hers.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he apologized, massaging his temples. He helped himself to a cup of coffee from the service his secretary had provided before settling into his desk chair. “I know you’re busy, so I’ll get right to the point. Upwords has been approached by a new client, and now I’m facing a too-many-projects-not-enough-presenters conundrum. I realize you’re in the middle of preparing a customer-service seminar for Computech Industries, but I’m hoping you can break away for a bit. I need you to shift your focus to a new assignment.”
“No problem,” she responded. Despite her busy schedule, she was always eager for a fresh challenge. “Who’s the client?”
“Intrepid Explorations magazine. Their CEO would like to retain us to present a seminar to his staff on utilizing social media. He’d also like us to assist him with the final preparations for their annual conference.”
“That’s terrific news! Intrepid Explorations is one of the top publications in the country. Why aren’t you bouncing off the walls with excitement?”
“I’m not certain we can commit to the project. The timeline is tough. The conference is just three weeks from now.”
Brianna quickly ran through the logistics in her head. It would be a crunch, but she did some of her best work under pressure. She could juggle a few projects around to make it happen.
“It’s doable,” she confirmed. “You can bounce away now.”
Trevor forced a halfhearted smile. “It’s hard to get into the bouncing spirit when all I can think about is the robbery. If you’d been hurt …”
“But I wasn’t. And they didn’t get anything of any major value, so it’s all good.”
Although walking in on a robbery was an experience she would have preferred to miss. She’d been working after hours. Returning to the empty office building after stepping out to grab a bite to eat, she’d spotted a stream of light filtering out from under her office door. She was certain she’d shut the lights off when she’d left. She always did.
Opening the door a crack, she’d glimpsed two masked men in the room. She’d scrambled for the exit and dialed 911 the instant she made it safely outside. By the time the authorities arrived, there was no trace of the intruders.
“Do the police have any leads?”
Trevor shook his head. “The thieves didn’t leave any prints behind. Or any other evidence, for that matter.”
“It’s so strange to think burglars would even consider breaking into our offices,” she mused. “It’s not like we keep a lot of cash on hand, although I suppose they wouldn’t know that.”
“I agree. I’m just thankful you were able to get out of the building before they saw you. Having a new client to work with should help get your mind off things, though. Intrepid’s CEO has business in Boston this week. He’d like to meet with you while he’s there, to set up an action plan.”
“Sounds good. I’m assuming he’s already booked a venue for the conference?”
“He’s reserved a resort on the Maine coast. I’m sure you’ll want to check it out beforehand, so you can head there directly from Boston. Use my cabin as a base of operations.”
After spending time at Trevor’s vacation retreat in June, Brianna had discovered that “cabin” was a misnomer. The home was a multilevel architectural masterpiece in cedar and glass. She’d fallen in love with the gourmet kitchen and the guest bedroom suite’s cozy fireplace and whirlpool bath.
But thoughts of that vacation evoked other, more disconcerting, memories. It was impossible to think of those Maine woods again without remembering the handsome stranger she’d met there. Two months later, the man still starred nightly in her dreams. Her subconscious mind delighted in parlaying the scorching hot kiss they’d shared into an erotic encounter that had her waking in damp, tangled sheets.
What if I run into him again?
She pushed the thought to the back of her mind and redirected her focus to the business at hand. “Perfect. I can’t wait to try out a few new recipes in that gorgeous kitchen of yours.”
“My casa is your casa. There should be some decent downtime on this assignment, so enjoy it. I’ll e-mail you with your itinerary this afternoon.”
On the way back to her office, Brianna stopped at a corner desk, greeting its occupant with a smile. “Good morning, Amy.”
“Hi, Brianna,” the petite blonde grinned, looking up from polishing her fingernails. “I’m devoting my break to a manicure. Hot date tonight.”
Brianna rolled her eyes. “When do you not have a hot date lined up?”
“And when are you going to dip your toes into the dating pool again? It’s time, don’t you think? I know Peter was a player. I get that you want to avoid a repeat. But there are a lot of good guys left out there, and you deserve to be happy.”
Brianna bit her lip. After catching Peter and his business partner negotiating a private deal of their own, she’d had enough relationship drama to last her a lifetime. She had no intention of traveling down that path again.
�
��I’m too busy to date right now, and I’m about to be even busier. I’m taking on the Intrepid Explorations account.”
“That’s huge! Congratulations!”
“Thanks,” she beamed.
“I hear Intrepid has booked the Summerhaven Resort for this year’s conference. They cater to the crème de la crème of the upper crust. The resort is bound to be swarming with scores of handsome, single businessmen. Busy or not, it’s time to dust yourself off and get back into the dating fray, girlfriend. You can start by borrowing my nail polish. ‘Hot to Trot Pink’,” she winked.
“I’ll pass, thanks. But you’re right about the dusting myself off bit. This account is a heavy hitter. It calls for a little gloss.”
Never a fashion goddess, Brianna had spent even less time on her appearance since breaking off her engagement with Peter. Having determined she was through with dating, she’d deliberately avoided doing anything to call attention to herself. Blending into the woodwork had discouraged unwanted suitors, and it had made her feel safe. But her plan obviously hadn’t made her bulletproof. It was time to stop hiding behind a barrier of blandness.
“I think it’s time for a makeover.”
“What a fun idea!” Amy enthused. “Would you like a partner in crime? I have tomorrow afternoon off. We could do lunch, and then shop afterward. I could even get you an appointment with my stylist. He owes me a favor, and I know you’d love him.”
“Sounds great. Tomorrow at noon, then.”
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
After lunch the next day, their first stop was a lovely brownstone. A bold red sign proclaimed the spot to be Adam’s Eden.
“Welcome to paradise,” Amy enthused with a smile.
Brianna soon found that her friend’s effusive statement wasn’t an exaggeration. Walking through the door was like entering another dimension. The air was awash with delicate fragrances, and relaxing music ebbed from speakers scattered throughout the many alcoves. Green plants were tucked into every nook and cranny, adding an outdoorsy feel to the spa.
A model-perfect receptionist greeted them, then ushered them into the main salon where Amy introduced Brianna to the spa’s owner, Adam.
“Pleased to meet you,” the stylist said with a smile before turning his attention back to Amy. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of Brianna. We’ll see you in a couple of hours.”
Once she was settled in his chair, Adam took a moment to access Brianna’s hair. “You have beautiful curls. I won’t need to do much to make your hair pop. I could shorten the length a bit, and add a few face-framing layers, if that sounds good to you.”
“Let’s do it!” she agreed with an enthusiastic grin.
A shampoo and conditioning treatment were the first order of business. Then he wielded his scissors, and Brianna watched her metamorphosis in awe.
The end result both amazed and delighted her. Feeling a bit dazed, she followed Adam to the makeup room, where he helped her choose the right cosmetics to enhance her new look.
“See, didn’t I tell you he’s a magician?” Amy exclaimed upon her return. “Not that you needed one, mind you, but I love what he’s done!”
Brianna loved it, too. Her once-unruly mop now flowed in gentle waves to skim her shoulders. Soft layers flattered her face and made her blue eyes appear exotic. The makeup Adam had applied was subtle, yet flattering. Even her nails seemed more vibrant, newly shaped and colored in a deep purple.
“Come on. It’s time to shop ’til we drop!” Amy declared with an infectious grin.
The afternoon flew by as they searched for items that would update Brianna’s wardrobe. They found some wonderful outfits—her favorite being a short, fitted suit in a sea green that brought out the highlights in her eyes. She was about to pay for her selections when Amy added a slinky sheath in ebony silk to the pile, maintaining that little black dresses were wardrobe staples a girl could never have too many of.
Amy also insisted new clothing necessitated new lingerie, and dragged her to a boutique where she talked her into adding some sinfully scanty new undergarments to her purchases.
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
Back at her townhouse, Brianna unlocked the door with an exhausted sigh. She longed to run a hot bath and soak until the bubbles were gone, but there wasn’t time. She needed to pack for her trip and get some sleep. She had to be on the road early tomorrow.
By the time she arrived in Boston the next day she was tense from navigating traffic snarls and desperately needed to recharge before her dinner meeting. Fortunately she had a few hours before she had to rendezvous with the publisher of Intrepid Explorations.
She decided to use the time to take advantage of the hotel’s indoor pool. Slipping into her new swimsuit, a striking tank in a deep violet hue, she grabbed a matching wrap and headed down to the recreation area.
The pool was vacant, the calm surface reflected a soft turquoise against the muted lighting in the room. Diving in, she luxuriated in the feel of the water against her skin. Engrossed in her laps, she didn’t notice when a man silently entered the room.
She heard a splash as another swimmer sliced neatly into the pool, but the last thing she expected was for the newcomer to surface behind her—and grab her.
She wriggled in his grasp, unable to turn around or to face the man holding her fast.
“Let me go!” she sputtered.
“Don’t you remember me, mermaid?” her captor murmured. “I certainly remember you.”
With another determined wriggle, she spun around. Her gaze collided with an achingly familiar pair of green eyes—the same pair that had worked their way into her dreams nightly since she’d first fallen into them back at that Maine lake.
“You!” she gasped.
“Ah, so you do remember me. I was worried for a moment that my charms were fading.”
No chance of that, she thought, as his touch branded her. Swallowing hard, she fought to regain her composure. “I said let me go.”
“If you insist.”
She wasn’t prepared for the suddenness with which he complied with her request. Caught off guard, she went under.
Hurriedly surfacing, she sent him a shriveling glare before propelling away with angry strokes. Scrambling out of the pool, she grabbed her wrap and rushed out the door, leaving the man and the rich peal of his laughter behind.
Chapter Four
Luke flexed his tense shoulder muscles under the showerhead’s steamy spray, letting the full force of the pulsating water loosen the kinks. Sinews already taught from a long day of driving had only seized tighter after an apprehension-inducing phone call from his sister.
He closed his eyes to rinse the shampoo from his hair, and instantly the image of Brianna Atwood’s delectable body sprang to mind. It was a memory that had been emblazoned on his brain since he’d found her skinny-dipping in his lake. He needed to focus on keeping her safe, and he couldn’t do that if his fascination with her commanded his attention. His second encounter with the sexy little minx back at the pool wasn’t making it any easier to expunge the hold she seemed to have on him.
He had a bigger problem at the moment, however. His sister had agreed to guard Rafe Dimitriou. It was a dangerous assignment, but it wasn’t Lauren’s physical well-being he was concerned about. She was a stellar covert agent and, as she frequently reminded him, she was more than capable of taking care of herself. It was the emotional havoc this assignment had the potential to wreak that worried him. Her heart already carried a scar or two from when she’d previously tangled with the Greek billionaire.
He knew it infuriated Lauren when he assumed the mantle of overprotective big brother, but he couldn’t help himself. Safeguarding her came as naturally as breathing to him. Growing up, he’d shielded her from their father’s alcoholic rages. When the cancerous addiction had claimed Peter Reynolds’s life, he’d stepped in to fill the paternal void. No matter how capable Lauren had become, he’d always think of himself as her protector.
/> When it came to fretting about siblings, Lauren was as guilty as he was. He’d heard the worry in her voice when he’d told her he’d agreed to guard Philip Dimitriou’s newly discovered daughter. He couldn’t blame her for being a bit shocked. He’d surprised himself when he agreed to take on the assignment. He hadn’t planned on letting another spoiled heiress into his life again—for any reason, personal or professional. His experience with Tanya had been enough.
When he’d first met Tanya, he’d been instantly captivated. So captivated that he’d been blind to her headstrong, playgirl ways. His wealth hadn’t mattered to her, because she already had a steady supply of Benjamin Franklins flowing her way, courtesy of a hefty trust fund from her uber-wealthy and doting parents. The notoriety dating him afforded was what she’d been interested in.
The society papers had pounced on their blossoming relationship, delighting in linking the handsome billionaire editor-in-chief of one of the hottest outdoor magazines in the country to the lovely heiress. The public had lapped up their story, and the interest had placed Tanya directly in the limelight—right where she wanted to be.
As the months passed, her endless clubbing and partying wore on him. Because he cared about her, he’d allowed himself to believe she would change. That she’d settle down. At a stage in his life where he was ready for a serious relationship, it soon became painfully obvious Tanya wasn’t. Knowing there was no point in trying to build a future with her, he’d decided to break things off.
He’d planned on telling her they were over the night she was murdered, but she never made it home.
And it was his fault she hadn’t.
He wasn’t about to tread the same path with Brianna Atwood. He couldn’t bed Philip Dimitriou’s illegitimate daughter—no matter how badly he wanted to. With a wry shake of his head, he twisted the shower knob to cold.
