The Kincaids: New Money: Behind Boardroom Doors

Poor RJ. He was used to being the golden child, his entire life mapped out at birth and his every need taken care of before he could even voice it.

“Sometimes challenges can make us stronger.” It was hard to form sensible thoughts with his arm around her shoulder and his other hand on her knee. She could feel the power of his sturdy body right through her clothes. Part of her wanted to stand up and go organize the papers on his desk. The other part wanted to wrap her arms around his neck and …

RJ’s lips crushed over hers in a hot, whiskey-scented kiss that banished all thought. Her body melted against his and she felt her fingers do what they’d wanted all along—roam into his stiff white shirt and the hard, hot muscle beneath.

His hands caressed her, making her skin hum with arousal. Her nipples thickened and a powerful wave of heat rose in her belly. RJ’s raw hunger for affection—for help—gave urgency to his touch. She could feel how badly he needed her, right now, here in his arms.

She kissed him back with equal force, affection for him overpowering any more sensible urges. She wanted to heal his hurt, to make him feel better, and right now she almost felt that was within her power. Emotions surged within her. She’d adored RJ almost since the day she met him and his strength under adversity only made her admire him more. She’d never dared imagine for a single second that he’d return her feelings.

Their kiss deepened and heated and for a moment she thought they’d fuse and become one, then RJ pulled back gently. “Brooke, you’re an amazing woman.”

His soft sigh contained a thick aroma of all those fingers of whiskey she’d poured him. Would he regret this in the morning? Still, hearing him call her an amazing woman stirred something powerful inside her. Was this the beginning of a totally new phase in their relationship? Maybe they’d start dating and she’d be able to help him negotiate the minefield of his life and come happily out the other side with him—arm in arm. His arms felt fabulous around her right now.

Or would she remember this as the moment she destroyed her hard-earned career at The Kincaid Group and permanently alienated her boss by getting him drunk and compromising their professional relationship? A ball of fear burst open like a mold spore inside her.

What was she doing? She’d gotten him drunk, then let him kiss her. It was all her fault, even she could see that.

RJ stroked her cheek and she fought a sudden urge to nuzzle against him like a cat. Was it so wrong to give him the affection and comfort he craved? Again, violins and visions of a rose-scented courtship hummed in her mind. She was strong enough to help him through this. Her own background had made her a resilient person.

RJ caressed her, taking in the curve of her breast with his fingers then trailing over her thigh. The musky scent of him filled her senses for a second as his lips met hers again and kissed her softly.

Cigar smoke clung to his suit from the long business lunch he’d hosted at a local restaurant, and mingled rather intoxicatingly with the whiskey. Everything about RJ seemed delicious to her right now. She wanted to wrap herself up in him and stay there forever.

But he withdrew again, leaving her lips stinging. Then he frowned and pushed a hand through his hair as if wondering what he was doing.

An icy finger of doubt slid down Brooke’s back. Perhaps that smoky smell came from the smoldering ruin of her career and reputation. Instinct pushed her to her feet, which wasn’t easy with her knees reduced to wobbly jelly. “Maybe it’s time to get out of here. It’s after seven.”

RJ leaned his head back against the sofa, eyes closed. “I’m beat. I don’t think I can take another step today.”

“I’ll call you a cab.” She certainly didn’t want him driving with all that whiskey in him. He didn’t live far away, but driving or walking him home didn’t seem like such a great idea, either. If he invited her in, she wasn’t sure she could say no, and she knew she’d regret being that easy.

“Don’t worry about me, Brooke. I’ll sleep here on the sofa. I’ve done it many times before. If I wake up in the middle of the night I’ll go through some of the paperwork I need to read.”

“You’ll wake up sore.”

“I’ll be fine.” Already he was sinking into the sofa, eyes sleepy. “Go home and rest and I’ll see you in the morning.”

Brooke bit her lip. Somehow it hurt to be dismissed like this after their steamy kisses. What did she expect? That he’d want her by his side every moment from now on? Maybe after so much whiskey he’d already forgotten he even kissed her.

“What about dinner?”

“Not hungry,” he murmured.

“There’s half a plate of sandwiches in the fridge left over from a luncheon meeting today. I could get them for you.”

“Stop trying to mother me, and go home.” His tone was almost curt. Brooke swallowed and turned for the door. Then she noticed RJ had sat up again, head in his hands. “I can’t believe my mom is in jail. It’s just so wrong. I’ve never felt so powerless in my life.”

Brooke walked back toward him. “She’s a strong woman and she’ll survive. You’ve done all you can for now and it won’t help her if you worry yourself sick over it. Get some sleep so you’ll be ready to make the most of tomorrow. You’ve got a company to save.”

He blew out a hard breath. “You’re right, Brooke, as usual. Thanks for everything.”

Already he’d lain down, eyes closed. A fierce pang of tenderness for him ached in her chest. So tall and strong and proud and so anxious to go immediately into battle to save his mom. RJ was the kind of man any woman would adore. And she was only one among the many who did.

She slipped out of his office and closed the door, then picked up her jacket and bag from her own desk outside it. Thanks for everything. Was that his way of wrapping up the evening’s events—memos typed, letters filed, kisses received. All in a day’s work.

“Bye, Brooke.”

She startled at the sound of her name. She’d totally forgotten there might still be other employees on the floor. Usually everyone was long gone by now, but PR assistant Lucinda was donning her jacket two cubicles away. Brooke wondered if her cheeks were flushed or her lips red. Surely there must be some telltale signs that she’d locked lips with her boss.

“Bye, Luce.” She hurried for the elevator, hoping no one else would see her.

When the doors opened Joe from Marketing was inside. “What a day,” he exhaled, as she stepped in. “This place is coming apart at the seams.”

“No, it isn’t.” She bristled with indignation. “We’re going through tough times but a year from now this will all be forgotten and the company will be back on top again.”

Joe raised a sandy brow. “Really? If old Mrs. Kincaid did it I don’t think the family reputation will recover. And it’s sure looking like she did. I bet she’s enjoying life as the merry widow now.”

“She didn’t do it.” Still, a sliver of doubt wedged itself into her mind. Anyone could be pushed past their breaking point, and Elizabeth Kincaid had been pushed pretty far from the sound of it. “And don’t go spreading rumors that she did. You’ll make things worse.”

“Are you going to report me to your boss?” He shifted his bag higher on his shoulder.

“No. He’s got enough problems right now. He needs all of our support.”

“You’re like a wife to him, so supportive and attentive to his needs.” His grin was less than reassuring. “If only we could all be as lucky as RJ.”

She froze. Could he know something had happened between her and RJ? The doors opened and she stepped out with relief. “I’m not his wife.”

Though maybe one day I could be. Fantasies already played at the edge of her mind. Dangerous fantasies. Dreams that could explode in her face and destroy her career and reputation.

Still it was hard not to let her imagination wander just a little….

Two

Brooke had a sleepless night. In the morning her hair was a mess and she had to whip out the curling iron to bring some life back to the limp brown locks brushing her shoulders. She applied her makeup carefully, wanting to look as beautiful as RJ had made her feel last night. Did she look different now that she’d kissed him?

Not really. At least her eyes weren’t red from crying—yet. RJ would be able to blame his sudden enchantment with her on the whiskey she gave him. She, on the other hand, could blame only her years-long fascination with him. She’d fallen into his arms without a protest, and kissed him with passion that came from the heart.

She wore her smartest black suit. She’d bought it on sale at a fancy boutique, and with its well-cut designer lines it was something a rich girl would wear. She stood back and surveyed herself in the full-length mirror. Did she look like a potential girlfriend of RJ Kincaid?

She knew what her mom would say. You have a nice figure, you should show it off more. But that wasn’t her style. Besides, the last thing she wanted was a man who only cared about her breasts and not her brain.

She donned her Burberry raincoat, a cherished consignment store find. She preferred a demure, somewhat conservative style that said, I mean business. She wanted people to take her seriously. She’d never flirted with RJ for a single instant, as her job meant far more to her than the prospect of a quick kiss and cuddle.

Fear licked around the edges of her brain. Would RJ be embarrassed by last night’s indiscretions and find a way to shunt her aside? Her heart pounded as she walked into the Kincaid building.

Her throat dried as she stepped out of the elevator on their floor. How would she greet him? Would he be furious she’d made him drunk and landed them in a compromising position?

Maybe he wouldn’t remember that he’d kissed her at all.