“You keep saying ‘her’, like it’s a foregone conclusion.” Slone rose and strode to the chair Ja’Rol occupied. He had a stalking stride, fluid and graceful, with a definite commanding presence. Combined with thick black hair, incredible eyes and a mouth that knew pleasure and control, he simply looked delicious in black trousers and a suit jacket. “You’ve been very absorbed in this.” Slone’s deft fingers dug into tight shoulders. A rare on the job display for either man.
Ja’Rol blinked, melting under Slone’s talented hands. “I guess it is a chauvinistic reaction, but not one applicant has been male.”
Lowering to whisper, Slone breathed into his ear. “Is it something more?” he asked.
Lifting his eyes to the man hovering over him, Ja’Rol understood. His heart beat with a quickened rhythm, hoping. “You feel it too, don’t you?”
“Incomplete?” Slone asked with a faint nod, still intimate between them. He sank into a crouch next to the chair. “I have, for months. I wasn’t sure if I was imagining it, or not. Then a few weeks ago, I began to feel it in you. My biggest worry was I was transposing my own hungers and wants onto you.”
Ja’Rol lifted a hand, a thumb smoothing the faint crease showing over a single eyebrow. “You’re not. I don’t know when I realized it, to be honest. I love you.” Tipping, Slone accepted the soft kiss to his chin, meeting him to warm them both, lip to lip.
A low groan emanated from Slone. “Can’t.” He pulled away regretfully. With a sigh, he sank into the chair’s twin. “This is why you’ve been like a lion with a splinter in his paw. You knew why you were looking, and knew the one we need wasn’t already here.”
Ja’Rol nodded. What was the point in arguing? Somewhere in his gut, he did know. There was immense relief, also, that Ja’Rol wasn’t alone in this predicament. The last thing he wanted was to hurt Slone. Bringing in a third, especially a woman that he couldn’t help desiring, a woman that neither knew… He’d spent more than one night fighting with himself over whether to ignore the desire, or try to find a way to explain it to his lover. They’d been together for decades. The slow build up of this incompleteness had confused him, but now that he understood what it meant, he just needed to find a way to fill it.
“I didn’t want to ruin what we share, either. I’m happy, but there is something missing. I think being able to talk to Traci, having a female in constant close proximity, helped me to ignore the chasm, but I can’t, not any longer.” He felt a faint blush hit his cheeks, unable to meet the other man’s eyes. “I can’t stop looking at Jericka’s breasts. But I’m hesitant to throw the doors open. I’m no good at screening applicants.”
“Not exactly. You already knew she wasn’t here. And in truth, we’re looking for two women. One who will work with us—”
“And one who will love us,” Ja’Rol finished thoughtfully. “Would it work if she were one and the same?”
Slone slouched in his chair as well, both stretched and boneless with gazes upward. “It’s possible, but what we need is a goddess who is also a drill sergeant of Ms. Blythe’s caliber. We both need the organization.”
“And someone to keep the riff-raff off our floor.” Ja’Rol grinned.
“Mother adores you.”
Ja’Rol chuckled. Couldn’t squeeze anything past Slone.
“So, place an ad?” Ja’Rol rolled his tongue, abhorrence in the idea making his mouth dry.
“It’s really the only way. Hopefully, our goddess answers it. I don’t know how much longer I can take you being so sullen.”
“Sullen?” Ja’Rol snorted. “
Just wait until tonight, handsome.”
“Believe me, I am.”
Slone winked at him then pushed out of the chair to get back to work. A moment later, Ja’Rol left to discuss the ad with human resources, sending a quick prayer that they found what they needed, and the one they both craved.
Chapter Two
Brigit turned the third corner, or was it the fourth?—looking for the right set of doors. Unfortunately they all looked the same, dark mahogany with polished gold fixtures. Since they were private offices, none had names, much less numbers. It didn’t matter. She never found her mother on the first try, no matter where she worked.
Green and gray carpet silenced her steps. Potted palms lined the halls like vibrant green sentries. The décor was modern, understated and tasteful. Not what she would have expected considering how her mother always bragged about the company. The last time she’d been to the offices had been several years ago, before she’d left to live with her dad and stepmother in L.A. Brigit hadn’t remembered the halls then. Why did she think she would now?
Stopping in front of a pair that she
thought
were the right ones, she knocked.
A male’s voice, though, was what she heard in reply.
Drat. Strike one.
Well, maybe he’d know.
Answering the greeting to enter, she did, swinging the door inward. “Hi. Sorry to interrupt,” she began. At the sound of her voice, a dark haired head snapped up, exposing the most unusual eyes she’d ever seen.
“Can I help you?”
Green and blue.
No.
One was green, the other was a mosaic of blue and green.
“I said, can I help you?”
Brigit focused, noting he seemed a bit cross at the interruption, her silence, or both. “Oh! Sorry.” She swept a nervous hand through her short, blonde hair. It was hard, no not
hard
to look at him, but she found it hard to stop staring, he was so beautiful. Rugged, tailored. Gorgeous. She licked her lips, remembering he’d spoken a question. “I was looking for Mom. I struck out. I couldn’t remember where her offices were.”
The man with the most exquisite eyes straightened in his chair. “And your mother is…”
“Traci Boothes.”
The man frowned. “Traci left us over a month ago.”
“What?” Brigit blinked rapidly.
“How did you get up to these floors?”
“The secretary downstairs…” She floundered. “Said… She’s gone?” How long had it been since she’d talked to her mom? Why hadn’t she told Brigit she was leaving?
“What’s the problem?”
Brigit whirled and looked up.
Oh God.
Another sexilicious bod just appeared behind her. Not as dark, but just as handsome. Her heart was pounding within her chest. Her nipples tightened, and she had to draw a breath to try to ease the sensation. It didn’t help. He smelled incredible. Whatever cologne he wore, she was buying it by the case.
“Please.” The man standing with her gestured for her to enter the office. She backed up, unable to tear herself away. Quietly, the door closed behind him. The door locking sounded like a rifle shot through the air to her.
He leaned against the door, crossing his arms over a chest most begged for, either to have or to touch. Raising her gaze, she locked with his. Her skin grew tight. Heat burned in those antique gold eyes. A desire that he didn’t even try to hide. Her body ached as she responded, unable to ignore the primal call, male to female. It happened so quickly, with such a heady rush, she couldn’t fight it even if she wanted to. She had only one option. She had to run.
Brigit whirled. She had to get out of there. The other man was standing now and was moving around his desk.
“I’m sorry. She’s gone?” Brigit prodded, hoping one would give her an answer.
The one she watched neared. “Yes, about five weeks ago. You are her daughter?”
Brigit followed his gait until he stopped only a foot or two away. Both men, broad, tall and fierce, blocked her in. “Brigit,” she managed on a squeak.
The man with the unique eyes lifted his head to peer over her. He nodded, though his frown didn’t completely disappear. “Ja’Rol recognizes the name, but we both believed Traci’s daughter to be much older, and with her father.”
Brigit gaped. “Wait. Older? What were you expecting? Gray hair like hers? I’m twenty-eight, thank you very much. And I
was
with Dad. I just got home from a summer in Paris. I haven’t talked to Mom since before I left.”
“I see.” Then before her eyes, he seemed to change, losing the suspicious posture. Offering a hand, he said, “I am Slone Wilkes, and this is Ja’Rol David. My apologies. We weren’t expecting any visitors, and no one notified us you were on the way.”
She hesitated, then allowed it. No reason she couldn’t be polite. “Why? Do you have deep, dark secrets on this floor?” she whispered, leaning close. “Dead bodies?”
Ja’Rol eased from behind her, chuckling. “No, to either, but we are almost completely alone up here. Since your mom left…” He trailed off, and both men looked nearly heartbroken.
“Wait, wasn’t she just your secretary or something?”
Ja’Rol’s laughter returned. “Hardly. That woman knew this business, and our schedules, like clockwork. We’ve been muddling through without her, but she refused to stay. She has called. I have her number. Would that help you?”
“Oh! Yes, please. Usually I pop up without warning and it’s not a problem. I guess she didn’t realize it was that time of year again.”
Slone guided her to a seat. “Are you close?” He sat across from her as Ja’Rol went to Slone’s computer and typed in something.
“Pretty close, though living a country away has left gaps,” she admitted, then bit her lip. Why the hell would she divulge something like that to these two strangers?
“We’ll help you find her,” the one seated across from her said, easing her conscience. “She may have worked for us, but I know she was close to Ja’Rol.”
“Slone isn’t the kind to fraternize too closely,” Ja’Rol supplied, writing on a small pad of paper. “But he’s the head of the heads, so to speak, so he forgets to at least pretend to be human at times.”
Brigit smiled at the teasing jab. Slone slid a disgruntled look to the man at the computer, who, when he looked up, only shrugged.
“It’s true. You get in here and forget there’s a world outside those doors.”
“Someone has to keep the business from going up in flames.”
That remark caused a hefty row of snickers. Clearing his throat, Ja’Rol rounded the desk to lean against it in front of her. He held the paper in his fingers. “Before I give this to you, can you prove you’re her daughter?”
Brigit frowned. Her license wouldn’t do. Her mother had never taken her father’s last name. Not that she could really blame her. It was long and clearly Greek—literally. “I know her birthday!” she offered.
Ja’Rol nodded. “Shoot.”
“May twenty-third.” Watching their expressions, she realized they couldn’t tell if she was right. “Call her, let me talk to her. She’ll tell you I’m not a murderer. Well, except for houseplants, but I can’t be charged for horticultural homicide, right?”
Ja’Rol laughed again. “She’s funny.”
Between them, he did seem to be the more relaxed of the two.
“Okay.” Slone nodded toward the phone and Ja’Rol grabbed it, dragging it close. He dialed and waited.
“Hi, Traci. No, the company has not crashed and burned.” He rolled his eyes. “We seem to have a guest looking for you, your daughter. Sure.” He offered the handset.
Brigit took it gratefully. “Hi, Mom.”
“Oh dear! Is it September already?”
“Don’t sound so thrilled,” she replied, not sure if she should be miffed or not.
“Oh! No, it isn’t that! I swear, sweetheart. It’s just, well…” She sighed. “I’m leaving for Las Vegas in two days. Gene and I are going to get married this weekend. I got swept up in the details and reservations and lost track of time.”