by Lori Foster
“Welcome.”
She almost smiled. Yes, for him to mention it was very inappropriate, but still, she enjoyed knowing... No. No, she could not be thinking things like that!
Ruthlessly, she brought herself back on point. “Therman is very selective,” she said in her most bureaucratic manner. “The only time I know of him meeting a courier is when the man got hurt. Therman wanted to ensure he was okay.”
“And that he wouldn’t sue him, right? Am I right?”
Likely, but she wouldn’t confirm it for him. “We’ll both walk in when we deliver the item.”
“Hair.” He rolled one bulging shoulder, saying with disgust, “The item is hair.”
“When you speak to him,” she continued, forging on despite his nonsense, “you will be respectful.”
“No shit, Sherlock. He’s the boss, so of course I’ll show him respect.” Appearing disgruntled, he grumbled, “I’m not an idiot.”
The look she gave him clearly indicated that she wasn’t yet convinced. He could be so crass, crude and often obnoxious, that she didn’t want to leave it to chance.
But he likes my mouth...
She shook her head, chasing away that thought. “For my peace of mind, will you promise to be on your best behavior regardless of how you’re greeted?”
“You’re making me think this Therman dude is an ogre.” He held up a hand when she started to speak. “But sure. I’ll be so good you might mistake me for a choirboy.”
“Ha.” Not likely.
He drew a fingertip in an X over his chest. “Cross my heart.”
Hmm. At least he planned to try, so Mary nodded. “Thank you.” Regardless of how he’d be greeted by Therman and the others, he did need to make an impression.
“Now that we’re past that, let’s talk about hair.”
“It’s only a part of Therman’s collection, and no—” she cut him off “—I’m not going to discuss it with you. If you’re interested, ask Therman and he’ll tell you whatever he wants you to know.”
Now that they were openly chatting again, Howler moved back with a grumble and got comfortable. In minutes he was snoring.
Mary smothered a yawn. She hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, and now the heat and long trip worked against her, making her drowsy.
Brodie’s gaze drifted over her in a way that she actually felt, warm and intimate. “Put your head back,” he suggested quietly. “Doze if you’d like. I’ll wake you when Howler and I are ready to take a break.”
“I couldn’t.” But it sounded so nice. She yawned again, this time so widely her eyes watered.
Brodie’s mouth curled. “One thing before you nod off.”
“I won’t.”
“Uh-huh. But in case you do, there’s something you should understand.” He switched lanes as they neared the on-ramp. “I really am overprotective. My mom gives me hell about it all the time. Charlotte, too.”
“I notice it’s only women—” she started to say.
“Even Jack,” he continued at almost the same time, then he realized she was talking and said, “Hmm?”
Leaning back in the seat, Mary shifted to face him. “You try to protect your brother?”
“No, I didn’t mean that. Jack can take care of himself. But,” he added with emphasis, when she started to roll her eyes, “he’s two years younger than me, so I stuck up for him a lot when we were growing up.”
“And now that he’s an adult you figure he’s fine on his own, yet because I’m a woman, you think I need you looming behind me.”
“I didn’t loom,” he objected. “Not on purpose anyway. And here’s a newsflash: in identical circumstances, I would have backed up Jack the same way I did you. Trouble is trouble, and I can’t ever ignore it when I see it coming.”
“You don’t think Jack could have handled it on his own?”
“You did, so yeah, he probably could’ve, too. But that’s not the point.”
His confidence in her went a long way toward making her feel better. “No? Then what is?”
“Backup is never a bad thing.” He nodded at his own assertion. “You know I’m right.”
With a tilt of her head, she conceded the point, but still decided to test him. “What if our roles had been reversed? If I’d stepped in as your backup, would you have complained?”
“Uh...” Shifting, he rubbed the back of his neck, glanced at her, then away and finally blew out a breath. “Everything I said was valid.”
“Yes.” She waited.
“Okay, so sue me. I’m old-fashioned when it comes to protecting anyone smaller than me, at least with a physical threat.” He drew down his brows. “And before you start on another tangent about men and women, yes, if you were a little dude, I’d have felt the same in that situation.”
Mary arched her brows. “If I were a ‘little dude’?”
He grinned. “Okay, so I wouldn’t admire your mouth, even though it inspires—” He glanced at her again, then frowned at the road. “Well, never mind what it inspires, okay? I wouldn’t notice everything else, either, if you weren’t a woman.”
Everything else?
“But since you’re half my size I would feel protective, so score one for me.”
He sounded so reasonable, sure of his convictions, that Mary wondered if she’d misunderstood. “So it’s only in a physical confrontation that you’d feel the need to intercede?”
“Yeah, sure. Not like you’d need my help to shred someone with your disposition or your smarts.” He playfully grumbled, “You’ve shredded me enough times for me to know you’ve got that covered. Not complaining—I had it coming, I’m sure—just saying I have firsthand knowledge of your ability there.” He gave her a boyish grin when he finished, which on him looked wickedly sexy.
Odd, but she believed his explanation. After all, he’d rescued a dog in need, so it stood to reason that he would never stand idly by if he could help those in need. Maybe she’d gotten offended for no reason. She could be touchy about proving her worth—more to herself, than anyone else. Not that she’d discuss it with him.
That everything else comment he’d made, though...she’d like to know if he was as attracted to her as she was to him. It seemed unlikely. Brodie Crews was an unequivocally sexual man, whereas she tried not to think about sex.
But with him, she couldn’t help herself. It seemed every reaction he’d gotten from her was extreme, up to and including lust.
For now, it was enough to know he admired her hair and her lips. Actually, it was almost too much.
She really needed to regroup before verbally sparring with him again, so she said, “If you’re sure you don’t mind, I think I will rest my eyes.”
“Don’t mind at all.” He turned on music, turned down the blower on the air and smiled at her, his dark eyes mellow and warm and...sensual.
Or maybe that was just her.
* * *
IT WAS AFTER 5:00 p.m. when Brodie drove his Mustang down the long private lane. He watched for the grand entry Mary had described, but it took a few minutes before he finally spotted it. Yeah, definitely grand. Like...holy shit grand.
He pulled into the long, wide, tree-lined drive and blinked. The entry was nothing compared to Therman Ritter’s mansion. Luckily Red was too busy fussing with her makeup, a small round compact mirror in her hand, to notice the way he gawked.
The man’s house was big enough to be an apartment complex, but way fancier. After seeing where the other collector lived, the poor schmuck who’d nearly cried over selling a snippet of hair, Brodie hadn’t expected this.
Yes, he’d figured on the boss having a nicer setup. He employed Mary and a courier, so he had to have some serious dough. But still... “How many people live here?”
“Just Therman and a few of his companions.”
As she spo
ke, she slicked some pale gloss over her lips, and Brodie forgot to listen.
Mmm, that mouth...
He’d already compiled a list of fantasies based around those soft, plump lips. Her hair often factored in, too. She’d have it loose, spilling over her small shoulders and perfect tits while that sinner’s mouth moved over his skin.
He almost groaned. Much more of that and he’d be meeting the boss with a boner. Not cool.
It took him a second to remember what she’d said. He no longer cared that much, but still he asked, “Companions?”
“He doesn’t like to call them employees because they’ve been with him so long. There’s the housekeeper and the cook and his personal assistant.”
“Do they all live here?”
“Now, yes.” She put her makeup away and began smoothing out her blouse, doing up a few more buttons so that she all but concealed herself.
Shame that. She had a body made for showing off, whether she realized it or not.
“Therman is eighty-six. The head housekeeper and her husband, the cook, are both in their sixties. Vera—she’s the housekeeper—she told me that she and Burl didn’t move in with Therman until a few years ago.” As if someone might hear them even though they were still in the car, she explained in a lower voice, “Burl had a stroke and Vera almost lost him. As soon as he recovered, Therman insisted they move in with him. They live in the downstairs of the house now.”
Sounded like Therman was a good guy. Since Red worked for him, Brodie was glad. “And the personal assistant?”
Instead of answering, she said, “Park over there,” pointing to the right of the six-car garage, where a skirt extended from the immaculate drive.
Given the elegance around him, Brodie knew his car looked even more like a junker than usual. He glanced at Mary, but if it bothered her, she hid it well.
When she started to open her door, he caught her arm just below her elbow. She was so damn fragile, his fingers overlapped and a primitive sort of emotion clashed with his innate manners. She looked at him with a question in her eyes. The urge to kiss her was so strong, he almost forgot what he’d wanted to say.
Then Howler propped his head over the seat and whined, and that brought him back around.
“What do I do with the dog? You know I can’t leave him out here.”
Those sweet lips of hers curled in a genuine smile that licked over his nerve endings and made him think things very inappropriate to their circumstances. “We’ll take him in with us, of course.”
Given the country-style castle where her boss lived, Brodie didn’t see any “of course” about it. “He’ll need to drain the pipes first.” All around them was pristine landscaping. “Where do you suggest we do that?”
She patted his hand. “I’m sure Howler will have a few ideas.” She opened her door and circled around the hood, reaching his side of the car just as he’d leashed Howler. The dog bounded out to greet her with a wagging rump, then dragged Brodie to an unspoiled bright green lawn where he did his business.
In fact, it was a good ten minutes before the dog decided he’d marked enough territory and they started up the grand entrance of the place.
Everything was done up in stone, just like a castle, two towering stories tall with fancy slate roofs. It swept wide, balconies and a half turret supported by pillars. Interesting curves and angles added to the impression of wealth. Brodie didn’t know architectural terms, so he wasn’t sure what most of the extras were called, he only knew they didn’t come cheap.
Mary used a code to enter by the massive double front doors. Howler was as uncertain as Brodie; the dog took short, halting steps, his head slewing in every direction.
Once inside, Mary pressed a buzzer on a panel beside the front door.
A plump woman with salt-and-pepper hair and squeaky shoes showed up a minute later. As she wiped her hands on an apron, she beamed at Howler. “Oh, such a beautiful dog.” Then she turned to Brodie and paused, looking at him over her half-glasses.
Mary said, “Vera, this is Brodie Crews, the new courier. Brodie, meet Vera, the housekeeper.”
Brodie leaned toward the woman and stuck out a hand. “Ma’am.”
She twittered, took his hand and said, “My, you’re unexpected.” Without explaining that, she turned to Howler. “Is he friendly?”
“Very,” Brodie promised. He was aware of Mary watching him in surprise. Because he behaved? Well, she’d be shocked senseless before the meeting was over. He did have manners—they just seemed to flee around her.
A robust man dressed in jeans, a T-shirt and apron came around the corner. “Mary.” He held open his arms and Mary embraced him.
They were like a big friendly family. Brodie found himself smiling, liking them all already.
When the man let her go, Brodie stepped forward. “Burl, right? It’s nice to meet you.”
“So Mary told you about us?”
“I had to grill her, but finally got enough info to identify you.”
All eyes went to Mary. She shook her head. “He exaggerates.” She stood with one hand on Howler as if to reassure him.
“You want a drink?” Burl asked her. “Something to eat? It was an all-day trip, right?”
“Yes, and thank you. I’ll wait to see what Therman wants to do, though.”
“Therman,” came a new voice, “would like you to join him for dinner.”
Only then did Brodie hear the heels coming down a grand staircase. The woman was tall, almost as tall as him, very thin with a straight back and long neck. She wore a trim black dress with low heels, her white hair styled atop her head.
“Perfect,” Burl said. “There’s plenty.”
“While we wait,” she continued to Mary, “he’d like to meet with you both in the library.”
Mary nodded. “Of course.”
Brodie guessed the woman to be in her seventies, and though she was attractive still, he’d be willing to bet she’d bowled men over in her younger days.
Burl said, “Twenty minutes, Jolene. Then I’ll have everything ready.” He turned and left the room, and if he’d ever had a health scare, it didn’t show in his easy stride now.
Mary properly introduced him to Jolene, Therman’s personal assistant—though Brodie would bet she was more than that, too.
The way Jolene held out her hand, Brodie wondered if he was supposed to shake it or kiss her knuckles. He settled on a gentle squeeze and a nod. “Nice to meet you.”
She smiled. “I see that you’ve already met Vera and Burl.”
Brodie noticed that only his first name was given, which made the introductions less formal and gave tacit permission for him to call each person by name rather than include titles. Apparently Therman liked to keep things casual.
“There are others who work here, of course.” Vera frowned at a speck of dust on a dark wood table. She used the edge of her apron to quickly whisk it away. “Landscapers, maintenance crew, pool cleaner. Eventually, you’ll meet everyone.”
Brodie nodded even as he wondered if there was a reason he needed to meet everyone. So far, no one in the fancy house fit his expectations.
Curious about the odd welcoming committee, he glanced at Mary and saw she watched him with bright eyes full of laughter. So she’d known how it would be, huh? She could have warned him, but as her lips twitched, he realized she’d wanted to see his reaction.
And here she’d lectured him on being respectful, the tease. Maybe Therman would be different, more ceremonial, but he was starting to have his doubts.
Poor Howler fidgeted about, first standing, sitting and then standing again.
Smiling at the dog, Jolene lightly stroked his head.
Howler tipped up his face and closed his eyes as if in bliss.
“Therman loves animals,” she said. “He’ll enjoy meeting your pet.”
“Thank you for including him. If I’d left him outside, he’d have worked himself into a pitiful mess.”
“He’s very well behaved.” She turned away. “I’ll let Therman know you’re here.”
As she left, Vera said, “Come along. I’ll take you to the library to wait.”
Brodie found himself walking with Howler and Mary down a long hallway wide enough for them to be side by side. Instead of the tile of the foyer, Howler’s nails tapped on polished wood flooring. Gone were the towering two-story ceilings in the entrance, but these ceilings were probably still eleven feet high. With everything so oversize, it should have felt cavernous, yet didn’t.
Vera pushed open large double doors and they stepped into an immense room with a different, richer wood on the floors in a herringbone pattern, wood panels on the walls, and even on the ceiling, all of it with loads of trim. With several sets of French doors on one wall, plenty of light filtered in, saving it from feeling dark.
One set of doors led out to a parklike enclosure with fountains bubbling and flowers everywhere.
Vera touched several wall switches and overhead lights slowly brightened the room even more.
“Make yourself at home,” she said. “If the dog needs to go out, feel free to use those doors.” She gestured toward the park setting. “If you need anything else before dinner, Mary can buzz me.”
As soon as she was gone, Mary started snickering.
Brodie gave her a mock-severe look. “You think it’s funny, huh?”
She put a hand over her mouth, but the giggles came through. “Sorry,” she managed to say, not sounding sorry at all. “I don’t know what you expected—”
“Yes, you do.” Her whole face brightened when she laughed, making her drop-dead gorgeous.
She nodded, chuckling more. “Yes, I do.”
Damn. “You’re sexy as hell when you laugh.”
She blinked. “What?” As if she hadn’t heard him, she laughed again.
Drawn to her, to those glittering eyes and that sweetly smiling mouth, Brodie took a step closer. “When you laugh, it makes me want to kiss you.”
Now her eyes were big, soulful and uncertain.
