Ramagos, Tonya - Strictly Accountable [Stud Service 2] (Siren Publishing Classic) (4 page)

“Then don’t.” Brody didn’t bother to glance his brother-in-law’s way, but he saw the other man shift and sit up straighter out of the corner of his eye. He also caught the look Gabrielle shot him, a warning that clearly read for him to play nice.

“Don’t you think you need someone with a little more training and knowledge?” Lyle apparently missed the cautious exchange between brother and sister as well as Brody’s simple but subtle hint to stay out of his business. “You need someone with more
experience
than a tax preparer?”

And you need to learn to keep her nose where it belongs
. Rather than let the words fly, Brody turned to Gabrielle. If she needed reassurance of how he intended to handle the situation, he would gladly give it to her. Lyle, on the other hand, could go suck on a turnip.

“I’ve checked her out,” he told Gabrielle. “Christy’s checked her out, too.” He reckoned knowing their oldest sister ran a background on Sabrina would elevate any questions from Gabrielle’s mind. “Sabrina has a bachelor’s in accounting. She’s preparing for the CPA exam. She’s a manager with Mason and works on the side with fledgling companies to straighten out their accounts and get them back on their feet for far less fees than these local big wig firms. She’s also the second oldest daughter of William and Maria Gibson from Destiny, Texas.”

Recognition showed in Gabrielle’s expression. “They’re oil money.”

Brody nodded. “That’s right, but they’re cattle ranchers first, though.”

“She’ll know how a ranch operates, what to look for, and be able to spot the problems.”

“Which is exactly why I went looking for her,” Brody agreed. “I’ve got this itch that’s telling me this doesn’t stop with taxes. I want someone who’s going to know where to look and how to spot it.”

“You know best, brother.” Gabrielle stepped to him and lightly ran her hand over the back of her baby’s head now lying on Brody’s shoulder.

“Is she asleep?” Brody couldn’t tell, but the even breathing and lack of whimpering made him think so.

Gabrielle nodded. “No surprise there. You comfort her when no one else can.” She stepped back, angling her head thoughtfully. “This Sabrina, didn’t her oldest sister get married last month? I remember seeing something about it in the Nashville papers. Very pretty.”

Leave it to Gabrielle not to miss an opening. Pretty didn’t come close to describing Sabrina, but Brody didn’t bother to correct his sister. He knew exactly where she thought to go with that comment and reckoned he better nip it in the bud fast. “I asked her out here to advise us on the situation, not for a date.”

“Awe, come on, Brody. Expel a little charm. You know that’s all it takes to have women drooling on you.”

Brody opened his mouth to retort but closed it again when the doorbell chimed. At the same moment, he heard his niece let out a loud, juicy burp and felt the wetness on his shoulder. Tongue in cheek, he carefully shifted the baby in his arm and passed her off to his sister before assessing the damage to his shirt.

“That’s not drool,” he said dryly.

Gabrielle did a horrible job at stifling her laughter. “She’s not a woman yet, either.”

Brody gathered his shirt in his hands, careful not to spread the yuck, and pulled the shirt over his head as he went to answer the front door.

* * * *

Sabrina took a step back, folded her hands in front of her, unfolded her hands, straightened her knee-length pencil skirt, tugged the hem of her fuchsia blouse, and puffed out an irritated breath.

“Stop fidgeting, for pity’s sake.”

She squared her shoulders and rang the bell again. She heard the sharp beat of boot soles on hard floor a nanosecond before the front door of the Holt ranch house swung open, and her IQ plummeted to single digits. Brody stood before her in his duct-taped boots, worn Wranglers, and not a stitch else.

“Christ on a pogo stick.” One sexy brow arched over eyes glinting with amusement, and she realized she inadvertently said that out loud.

“Well, now, I reckon the Almighty could use some form of recreation now and then.” Brody leaned forward slightly and cast a pointed look toward the cloudless morning sky. “I never thought about him having pogo sticks up there, though.”

“Do you always walk around the house without a shirt?”
And please, if you do, be sure to invite me over more often
. The man’s body gave new meaning to sculpted perfection. Corded muscles, fine ridges, and etched lines accented by flesh that spent a lot of time in the sun made her head feel a bit woozy.

“Will it bother you if I do?” His deep baritone drawl hinted with the amusement she saw dancing in his eyes.

Nope, I’m a multitasker. A little imagination, a few calculations, and surely I can figure out how to do taxes and have an orgasm at the same time
.

Professional. She could do this. She could ignore the electric desire sparking in her head, sizzling through her body in a mad rush to be pleasured, and focus on her job. Couldn’t she?

“We’re supposed to have a business meeting this morning, Mr. Holt.”

“Now, darlin’, what am I going to have to do to get the right name rolling from your lips?”

Oh, no way, no how am I going to respond to that
.

“I told you to call me Brody.”

“Brody.” Must the man’s name feel as good on her tongue as she imagined how all that tempting, tanned flesh would taste? Her mouth watered, forcing the need to swallow before she could speak again. “Could you please put on a shirt so we can get started with this meeting? I have another engagement today.”

Mentally, she pulled out her datebook and scribbled an entry to spend time with George and a bottle of wine tonight. She lovingly thought of her green vibrator as George of the Jungle because on the right setting it could be a real wild king. Last night’s date with George had nothing on the impending fun this vision would bring on later.

“Sure thing.” He glanced at the balled-up material in his fist and grimaced. “After I go upstairs and fetch a clean one. Come inside.”

He moved a half step to his right, and Sabrina stepped through the doorway. She tried not to absorb the heat of his torso when her arm grazed over it as she passed him. She tried to ignore the embers of white-hot need that rained through her at the contact. She tried to focus on the true meaning of those two words, come and inside, rather than the far more wickedly exciting meaning her mind gave them. She failed miserably on all counts.

She wanted to touch more, to explore his flesh with her hands and mouth until the hunger for him subsided. She wanted to feel his hands on her, wanted to surrender to the hard-edged dominance she spotted in the deepest depths of his eyes and see exactly where he might take her. God, she never felt these viperous tugs to be so naughty with a man and certainly never battled the urge to give in so easily.

Sabrina stopped a few feet inside the foyer and started to turn. The warmth of the solid wall of muscle at her back made her freeze. His breath fanned the fine hairs on the side of her neck as he dipped his head. His voice sent curls of heat whipping through her womb before they struck her clit and her nipples.

“Why don’t you let your hair down while I’m gone, Sabrina?”

Startled by her body’s continued betrayal and his suggestion, she stepped away from him and turned quickly. “I will not.”

He shrugged as if her reaction to his request didn’t make a hill of beans to him. “Suit yourself. Come to think of it, I like it up better anyway. It shows off that pretty neck.”

Before she could think of a thing to say in response to that, his hand snaked around her waist, flattened on the small of her back, and he propelled her toward an arched doorway to their left. “You can wait in here with my sister and her husband. I’ll be right back.”

Sabrina couldn’t help but watch as he walked away. No doubt about it, the man looked as good from the back as he did from the front. Moist tugs of arousal stirred between her legs, causing her inner thighs to tingle with the desire to feel his narrow hips between them as he readied his cock to thrust inside her sodden channel.

Okay, maybe you can’t do this
. Jesus, did she really lose all sensibility when she met him? What the hell happened to her strength and self-control?

“Hi, I’m Gabrielle, Brody’s middle sister.”

Sabrina snapped out of her reverie and turned to find a woman about the same age and height as she, smiling warmly. Though blonde with fairer skin, the resemblance between sister and brother couldn’t be missed. She decided the eyes spoke volumes about the genes passed down to these two members of the Holt family. Gabrielle looked at her through a set of eyes as darkly inquisitive as her brother’s. They currently danced with a secret amusement the same as Brody’s had when he opened the front door.

“Sabrina Gibson.” She shook the hand Gabrielle extended, then pulled the cloth tie binding her hair and slid it onto her wrist as a makeshift fashion accessory. Her hair fell in a loose wave around her shoulders, hiding her neck.

“We really appreciate you coming out all this way.” Gabrielle sank to her knees, finished changing the infant on the blanket spread over the rug, and stood with the baby in her arms. “And on a Saturday, too. I hope my brother is paying you extra.” She giggled as the baby twisted, then lunged for Sabrina.

Reflex more than thought made Sabrina reach for the infant. The little girl settled in Sabrina’s hold and immediately went for her hair. “Hey there.”

“Looks like her nap is over for the moment. She likes you,” Gabrielle said approvingly.

Sabrina grinned and tickled the baby’s chin. “She likes my hair.”

“So do I.” Brody’s announcement sent a fiery lace of sensations caressing through her system.

One glance his way and she realized she’d fallen right into his trap by taking down her hair.

“Do you have any kids?” Gabrielle asked, folding her arms loosely beneath her breasts as she watched Sabrina with her daughter.

“No. Not yet.” The baby chose that moment to bundle a handful of Sabrina’s hair in her tiny fist and give it a very strong tug. “All right, pretty girl. Get your own hair. Mine isn’t removable.”

“Do you want kids?” Gabrielle persisted.

“I—” Sabrina started to speak, but Brody interrupted her.

“Why would she want a pesky varmint like Rella that upchucks on perfectly clean shirts all the time?”

Shocked, Sabrina stared at him as he moved into her line of vision. He’d put on a shirt as she’d requested, this one a tan Dickie’s work shirt, and left it un-tucked from his jeans. He didn’t button it, however, leaving all those muscles and springy dark chest hair visible to taunt her. Interestingly enough, the sight lost temptation after his comment sank in.

Gabrielle laughed and waved a hand in his direction. “Don’t mind Mr. Grumpy, Sabrina. He’s kidding.”

“I’ll show you Mr. Grumpy,” Brody grumbled and reached for the baby. Sabrina hesitated, not wanting to hand the sweet girl over to him, uncle or not. He didn’t give her a choice. “You know I’m not grumpy, don’t you, Rella? Yes, that’s right. You can puke on me anytime you want, princess.”

“She doesn’t know yet how privileged she is,” Gabrielle told Sabrina. “She’s the only woman alive who can get away with making a mess on her uncle like that.”

“Her name is Rella?” Sabrina watched in awe as Brody cooed and held the baby up high, baring her tummy and making raspberry sounds on her flesh.

“Isabella,” a male voice corrected from the sofa. The man didn’t bother to stand but nodded his greeting and introduced himself. “I’m Lyle. The father.”

Gabrielle grimaced and shot him an apologetic look. “Sorry, honey. I’m a terrible hostess.”