“That’s a different system than the one downstairs. I’ve never seen it before. I don’t know the code,” she said slowly. “You just
locked
me in here.”
“’Course I didn’t. I locked everything else out.”
Her mouth fell open at his terse reply. He resisted an almost overwhelming urge to crush her to him, to send his tongue between the tempting target of her lips. His lust for Genny had always been a given, but something about seeing her so unexpectedly and the knowledge she’d stood toe to toe with danger tonight added an extra edge to his hunger.
Her skin looked extremely pale next to the rust-colored knit dress she wore with a pair of leather boots. That dress highlighted every lush curve of her slender body while managing to look sophisticated at the same time. The clean lines and elegance of the garment made him suspect it was Genny’s own design. Sean had never been much for fashion, but he liked Genny’s style. He’d come to admire and respect her talent. Her face was still damp from tears and reddened from crying. Some mascara had smeared below her right eye.
She looked as sublimely lovely to him as she ever had, and it had nothing to do with a body and face that could alter the trajectory of a man’s life. Sean’d known from the first time he laid eyes on her that Genny’s beauty came from within.
He blinked, realizing he’d been staring at her breasts and thinking about how soft and shapely they looked pressed against the clinging knit.
Okay, so her beauty wasn’t just spiritual.
He headed for the hallway. He was supposed to be rebuilding her trust in him, not gawking at her chest like a horny teenage boy, he thought irritably.
She followed him into the bathroom.
“You can’t force me to stay here, Sean,” she said when he deposited her bag on the granite countertop and walked over to the steam shower.
“Who said anything about
forcing
you?” He turned the faucet. “You’re in shock. You’d be acting all kinds of irrational if you stormed out of a nice, warm, available apartment after your house burned down.” He raised his brows and came toward her. She stepped back quickly, pressing her butt against the vanity to avoid him as he went past her in the narrow confines of the bathroom. She glanced up warily when he paused next to her, his hip brushing her belly.
“Give me one good reason why you can’t stay here, girl,” he demanded quietly.
She seemed too flabbergasted by his audacity to speak, so Sean steamrolled ahead. “Go ahead and take a nice hot shower. It’ll help you to relax. I’m going to try to contact someone at the Lake Forest police and fire departments and then go to bed. Do you want another glass of wine?”
She glanced around, as though searching for a reason she couldn’t stay at the penthouse hidden amongst the fluffy towels and rising steam. Her shoulders slumped suddenly, and Sean knew her shock and exhaustion had finally caught up to her.
“No. Just . . . just leave me alone.” She brushed past him and grabbed her bag. She hadn’t moved quickly enough for him not to see the tears that sprung into her eyes, though.
“Sure thing, girl,” he said as though she’d requested the easiest thing in the world instead of the hardest. “I’ll bring a pillow and blanket out to the couch.”
He saw her frown furiously at the contents of her bag before he shut the door.
He lay in bed, his hands behind his head, thinking. The sun had been valiantly trying to come out for a half an hour now, but it was proving to be a weak opponent against the heavy snow that had begun to fall at dawn.
Genny had come out of the bathroom earlier wearing sweat-pants and a huge T-shirt, her brown hair still damp. He’d stood in front of the sliding glass doors that led to the small terrace, dialing the number for the Lake Forest Police on his cell. She hadn’t spared him a glance. She’d laid down on the couch and pulled the blanket almost over her entire head. She kept her back to him when he got off the phone after having a brief conversation with the Lake Forest Police desk sergeant.
She was making a point of ignoring him. He knew he’d pushed her defenses enough as it was, so he’d left her in peace.
She’d said she hadn’t wanted to sleep in either bedroom, Sean recalled. How much had she seen of him fooling around with that woman—Suzanne? He shifted restlessly in the bed, made uncomfortable by the thought.
Why hadn’t Genny called out to him? From the look on her face, she’d been appalled by what she’d seen taking place in this bedroom. Her face had been frozen in shock as silent tears rolled down her cheeks.
Funny, when he’d first heard her whimper of distress, he’d mistaken it for arousal.
Had she been shocked because he’d restrained Suzanne? Or had her distress been caused by seeing him with another woman? Sean suspected it was the former. Max had restrained her that New Year’s Eve at Sean’s request. Maybe Genny didn’t like seeing such a stark reminder of an event she regretted so greatly.
He understood why she didn’t want to sleep in the master bedroom. He never slept in there, never took a woman in there . . . never went in there
period
if he could avoid it.
Genny still thought of that New Year’s Eve, all right. She regretted it, but not for the same reasons Sean did. Genny would have wiped that night clean out of existence, if she could.
He, on the other hand, clung to the exquisite memories like a miser stroking his treasure. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, Sean would go over each detail, torturing himself. It hurt like hell, but it was a pain he wouldn’t have sacrificed for anything. Once the memories were gone, he’d be left empty and hollow.
He relished the memory of burying his face against Genny’s neck and breathing the scent of her arousal while her cries of pleasure vibrated into his lips. He thought of what it’d been like to have her shaking to orgasm in his arms while he poured himself into her.
His cock swelled and lurched against the sheets.
He hissed a curse and got out of bed. For once, he didn’t welcome the pain of the haunting memories. Not when the dream-woman lay just feet away from him, soft and warm in sleep.
Ten minutes later, he’d showered and dressed, forgoing shaving to save time. He wanted to leave and get back before the storm made transportation impossible.
He wanted to get back before Genny awakened.
He checked on her before he left. She’d turned onto her back and slept with one arm over her head, her clenched fist opening slowly as the muscles relaxed. Her eyebrows drew together slightly, making her look like she was trying to puzzle something out in her dreams. Her breasts looked soft and inviting beneath the thin layer of her T-shirt as they rose and fell with her even breath.
Sean turned away, wondering if there’d ever be a time when he didn’t look at her and feel regret.
He returned to the penthouse three hours later, glad to see Genny still slept. The snow fell so heavily it looked like a gray and white veil flickering outside the windows. With the storm and the light weekend traffic, he’d been able to drive up to Lake Forest with relative ease in his SUV. The plows and salt trucks had been surprisingly efficient for once.
But the snow had started falling heavier on the Edens Expressway on the return trip. It was just a matter of time before the city became immobilized until Mother Nature had her say.
Fatigue overcame him as he removed his coat, gun holster, and boots and keyed the code into the alarm. When he was here alone, he rarely bothered with added security. No one could enter the penthouse without first getting into Sauren-Kennedy, and that was a near impossibility. Certainly nothing the Lake Forest fire chief had told him had raised Sean’s hackles or made him suspicious the fire had been set purposefully.
But Genny was here now, and it never hurt to be cautious.
It’d been three years since Albert Rook had attempted to blackmail Sean with knowledge that could potentially send Genny to prison—three years since Sean had threatened Rook in return and sent the former Sauren Solutions intelligence operative packing.
Sean’s intelligence contacts informed him that Rook was in Indianapolis, Indiana, where he owned an outdoor hunting and fishing store that served as a front for laundering money for a local drug kingpin. Sean wished the slimeball was a hell of a lot farther than Indianapolis from Genny, but Rook had never done anything to make Sean think his threat held strong. Sean had meticulously kept an eye on the man over the years.
Although he had to admit, when Genny had said her house had burned down, Sean’s thoughts had leapt immediately to Max’s old lover.
He hesitated in the living room, his gaze on Genny curled beneath the blanket. He told himself to go back to bed.
He found himself sinking into the cushy leather chair instead.
As his relaxation grew, the barriers faded. Memories flooded his brain. He stared at Genny as the snow fell silently outside the windows.
And Sean remembered.
He’d first met her at a company party that he’d looked forward to about as much as he might a trip to the dentist to get his teeth drilled. Making nice-nice just wasn’t Sean’s thing. Manners were like the sport of a world-class athlete. It was necessary to have it hammered into you from an early age for it to become as natural as breathing. Sure, he’d attended his fair share of social events during his military career, and he’d learned how to comport himself. But he was usually ready to leave a shindig like this before he’d ever crossed the threshold.
Besides, Army brass had nothing on Max Sauren.
He’d reminded himself repeatedly as he drove to Max’s Lake Forest estate that he had only himself to blame for the unpleasant errand. He’d understood what he was getting into when he’d taken the position of chief operating officer at Sauren Solutions Inc. eight months before. The corporate world was a whole new adventure for Sean Kennedy—one he wasn’t entirely certain he was equipped to navigate.
He’d sighed dispiritedly when he’d walked onto the huge, terraced deck that overlooked a lush garden and manicured lawn. Dozens of small cocktail tables had been set up on the deck, each of them adorned with a single white orchid and a tea light. An elaborate, built-in bar and a buffet table were being well patronized by Sauren Solutions employees.
Two white-jacketed waiters weaved amongst the partygoers, tables, and enormous pots of lush flowers. Amy Brighton and Jess Cheaver, two young surveillance experts, greeted him cheerfully. From their eager expressions at seeing him, Sean figured Amy and Jess were relieved to have something break the monotony. The long faces of the partygoers only strengthened his suspicions.
Max was schmoozing a gray-haired man who Sean recognized as Senator Joseph Carmichael from Ohio. Sauren Solutions had managed to bail Senator Carmichael out of a sticky situation involving illegal hiring practices in the senator’s home state. It’d been before Sean’s time, but he’d perused the file. Not that the file gave much away. Somebody at Sauren Solutions had obviously found some dirt on Carmichael’s chief rival in the senate, Mycroft Stokes. Stokes had been the one pushing the investigation against Carmichael.
Following the hiring of Sauren Solutions, Stokes had suddenly discovered much more pressing matters with which to make headlines, and the Carmichael illegal hiring practices scandal had slowly evaporated.
A waiter passed and handed Sean a small plate and a glass of champagne. He was staring dubiously at the contents of the plate when a woman spoke.
“The fork is small enough to get the meat out of the shell.”
He grinned and glanced over his shoulder to the speaker.
He forgot what he meant to say.
Her brown hair was parted on the side and fell in shiny waves past her shoulders. She wore a white, sleeveless sheath dress that fastened at her neck. The dress was simple, and her accessories spare, but the woman gave the impression of effortless chic. It was the look of uncertainty on her heart-shaped face that mesmerized Sean from the first glance—the way her vulnerability contrasted so greatly with her innate sense of style.
It hadn’t been just because it was the first time he’d been exposed to her beauty that Sean had forgotten his glib comment. Genny had
never
ceased to have the power to knock rational thought clean out of his brain.
“I know how to eat escargot,” he said, firming up his sagging grin. “I was just wondering what the hostess was thinking, serving it at a Fourth of July party.”
He knew he’d erred when he saw her expression falter.
Shit
.
On
so
many levels.
She
was the hostess. He just knew it all of a sudden. And if she was the hostess, than she was Max’s wife. And wasn’t it just his luck that Mrs. Max Sauren and this incredible creature were one and the same woman?
“It was a stupid thing to serve,” she mumbled, looking stricken.
“Are you
kidding
me?” Sean asked as he walked over to one of the white tablecloth-covered tables and began to eat with relish. He was relieved to say that she followed him over to the table.
“My mama was a waitress at the Bourbon House for a spell. I lived like a king for ten months or so, eating leftover escargot, oysters, and clams. When I first ate escargot, I thought I’d lose it f’sure. But I was bound and determined to eat every last slimy bit of it. Didn’t Mama tell me it was the equivalent of eating money? Took me about three bites before I realized rich people weren’t the idiots I’d started to think they were when I saw snails on my plate.”
He’d relaxed a little when she laughed. She put out her hand.
“I’m Genevieve Bujold, Max’s wife.”
“Sean Kennedy,” he returned, taking her hand in his.
Her eyebrows shot up on her forehead as she took a seat next to him. “Max’s new chief operating officer? I’ve heard so much about you.”