Brazen & Burning

Renée obviously didn’t believe her. “I don’t see how that can be possible. Adam would have told—”

“Oh, I doubt Adam would have told you anything about me. It wasn’t the way we worked. Back then.”

When the mysterious, sexy Sydney Colburn slid her hand up his bare arm, Adam watched two things prickle—the hair on his forearm and his sister. If Renée had had hackles, they would have raised to full attention.

Uh-oh. He’d seen her go into protection mode before, and the results could be ugly.

“Adam tells me everything. We’re very close.”

Sydney seemed undaunted, oblivious to Renée’s darkening mood. Her mouth quirked up on one side as she took in her surroundings. “Close, huh? Are we talking close like backwoods kissin’ cousins or is my mind just dipping into the gutter again? I swear, I’ve been trying to fix that about myself but it’s a tough-won battle.”

Renée’s shock knocked all pretense of hospitality off her face. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

“I told you, I’m Sydney Colburn.”

She left it at that—as if the mere statement of her name should be sufficient to fill in all the blanks. Renée crossed her arms over her chest and squared her stance, as if preparing for battle.

And while Adam enjoyed a good catfight the same as any man, he had to step in. He had a strong suspicion that this Sydney Colburn, even in tight jeans and towering sandals, was the one woman who could give his scrappy sister a run for her money.

“Yes, you are Sydney Colburn, and this is Renée Brody. And I am, indeed, Adam Brody, who you apparently came a long way to find. Renée, do you think you could give us a minute?”

Renée’s blue eyes flashed and her lips rolled inward to form a grim line of indignation. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” she muttered.

Adam glanced down at Sydney, who had the sense to keep her mouth shut, though, for some reason, he suspected she had a razor-sharp quip dancing on the edge of her tongue.

“I’m really thirsty,” he insisted. “Could sure use some of your world-famous lemonade.”

He quirked his smile with a dash of charm, which softened his sister. Two months ago, he wouldn’t have been able to execute such a smooth maneuver. Little by little, he was remastering the art of female manipulation.

Without another word, Renée stomped back into the house. He noticed that while she’d pulled the screen door shut, she’d left the inner door open. His sister had never been known for her subtlety—something else she seemed to have in common with Sydney Colburn, who’d just latched on to his arm.

“I should have been nicer to your sister. But, man, I could sense her antagonism a mile away.” She shook her head, and Adam couldn’t resist taking a deep breath, inhaling the scent of lavender that floated around her. Soft and soothing, in direct contrast to the brazen woman who wore it—almost. She said what was on her mind, but she also took instant responsibility for her brassiness. “I go on the defensive sometimes before I can stop myself. What did you tell her about me?”

He took her hand, the one that had been making love to his forearm, and dragged her back toward her car. “I didn’t tell her a damned thing. I couldn’t.”

“Well, you could have. I mean, I know we had an agreement not to tell anyone about us, but that was a long time ago. You might have talked about me. Once.”

They reached the Corvette in time for Adam to figure out that she was miffed by his silence. If she only knew what was really going on…

“Listen, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but assuming that we once knew each other—”

“Assuming?”

Her eyebrows shot up. When she wrenched her hand free, he had no choice but to let go.

“Adam, I realize I was adamant about keeping our affair quiet and all about sex and nothing about our personal lives, but I got the distinct impression that when I left you, you didn’t want me to go.”

“You left me?”

Adam didn’t know why, but that fact didn’t sit well. Didn’t jive with what his sister had told him about his prior affairs and love interests. In Renée’s estimation, he’d broken a string of hearts the length of Interstate 75. He’d been so wrapped up in his career as a hotshot, innovative architect that he’d never married, never fallen in love. And though Renée claimed he didn’t keep his lovers around for more than a couple of months, she had memorized the complete list of the women he’d told her about.

And the list didn’t include anyone named Sydney Colburn, a woman who’d supposedly dumped him.

“You find that hard to believe?” she asked, apparently getting annoyed.

“Surprisingly…yes.”

“Sorry, sweetheart, but you broke the rule. You asked me to stay the night with you, and that was…against the rule,” she repeated hotly. The flush on her skin darkened from light pink to magenta and she stamped her foot.

God, she was sexy when she lost her temper. Actually, he figured this woman had written the original definition of sexy, from her long, wavy auburn hair to her peek-a-boo blouse and skintight jeans. Suddenly, imagining that they’d once been involved wasn’t so hard to believe.

“We had rules?”

“Don’t toy with me, Adam. Of course we had rules! We wouldn’t even have exchanged last names, except we lived in the same complex and read each other’s mailboxes every day. Why am I telling you this? You know. You know me. You know what I’m like…what I was like. Then. I’m different now. I want different things. That’s why I hired a private investigator to find your new address. That’s why I dressed myself all up and drove a good two hours away from the nearest Nordstrom’s in melt-your-makeup heat to find you.”

“Two hours from Nordstrom’s? You must be suffering horrible withdrawal,” he quipped.

She thrust her fists onto her hips.

“I distinctly remember you regarding the grand opening of Nordstrom’s as something akin to the Super Bowl, mister. We went together. You spent five thousand dollars on a suit in the first half hour alone.” Her tone was even, but sharp. “Don’t you dare condescend to me, Adam Brody.”

Adam clenched his lips together. Her claim did indeed match what his sister had told him about the past few years of his life, as well as the facts he had solid proof of—like a whole closetful of designer men’s wear languishing in the cabin’s guest bedroom.

He raised his hands in surrender.

“I’m sorry.”

Sydney sighed, then turned on a smile that just about outshone the sun.

“You’re forgiven.” She snaked her arms around his neck and pressed close, ignoring the sawdust and sweat clinging to his bare chest. Her breasts taunted him with soft pertness. Her scent enticed him. Her mouth, which she licked to an even glossier shine than her lipstick, begged for a kiss.

And who was he to make her beg?

He curled his hand around the small of her back and lifted her, pressing her lips to his. Immediately, her mouth opened, her hands reached up to grip the sides of his cheeks, her leg twisted around his thigh to bring the center of her sex in direct contact with his. Adam jolted with explosive need, dropping his other hand to her buttocks, crushing her closer until his body throbbed and his chest heaved. Wild sexual instincts overrode every ounce of sense he had. If not for Sydney pulling back, he might have stripped her naked right there.

“Whoa, sweetheart.” She made short work of straightening her hair and clothes, tugging her tank top down so that her erect nipples drew his eye. “I remember we used to love the thrill of getting it on in the great outdoors, but don’t you think we should find somewhere a little more private? I don’t guess your sister would appreciate us screwing in her driveway.”

Adam laughed. He’d never known a woman who spoke about sex so freely. Or at least if he did, he didn’t remember her. Just like he didn’t remember Sydney.

“We used to do it outside?”

Sydney rolled her eyes. “We were a hair away from being certified exhibitionists. Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten about our tryst on the roof of your building?”

“Unfortunately…yes.”

“Excuse me?” She stepped back, clearly not believing him.

No time like the present to tell her the whole truth. “Much as I hate to tell you this…I don’t remember us. In fact, I don’t remember you at all.”