Back in His Bed: Boardroom Rivals, Bedroom Fireworks! / Unfinished Business with the Duke / How to Win the Dating War. Heidi Rice

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СКАЧАТЬ for the locker room. He had a three o’clock meeting, and he needed to put in a couple of hours at the office before he headed back to Sonoma.

      “You know, investing in a winery sounds interesting.”

      Jack stopped. “Good Lord, not you, too? It’s like an epidemic. Everywhere I turn, someone wants to own a winery.”

      Roger grinned. “Except you, for some reason.”

      “Because I have no romantic notions about wine-making.” Jack returned the greetings of the socialites at the juice bar, and got moving again before any of them decided to come over and say hello in person. He didn’t have time—or the inclination at the moment—to deal with that.

      Roger trotted to catch up. “Come on, how difficult could it be? Stomp a few grapes, mingle with the tourists, drink a lot. Sounds like a sweet job to me.”

      Jack spared a glance to see if Roger was kidding. Shockingly, Jack didn’t think he was. “When was the last time you were in a vineyard?”

      “I took the tour a couple of years ago, when the last set of in-laws visited.”

      Maybe Bren was right about not selling to just anyone. “And that makes you an expert, of course. Trust me, Brenna would cheerfully and painfully remove your feet if you put them anywhere near her precious grapes.”

      Roger spun the dial on his locker casually. “I’m surprised you’re being so generous. Brenna Walsh must really love you.”

      That stopped him in his tracks. “What?”

      Backtracking, Roger sputtered. “I mean, you’re the best ex-husband a woman could ask for. She can’t be cursing your name too often.”

      He doubted that. Brenna was probably burning him in effigy right now.

      “You’re setting a bad precedent for the rest of us,” Roger continued.

      Jack closed his locker with a satisfying bang. “Tell you what. You deal with your ex-wives, and I’ll deal with mine.”

      Roger put his hands up and backed away. “Fine. I’ll have the papers on your desk this afternoon.”

      Good. He’d have them in hand when he went back to Amante Verano tonight. He’d use the weekend to go through the rest of Max’s things and get Brenna on board with the new plan. By Monday this whole situation would be off his plate and his life could go back to normal.

      As the hot water of the shower kneaded his muscles, he realized there was still one last possible problem with his plan. Was Brenna over last night’s debacle yet, or was she nursing her anger today, building steam to go another round or two? The fight, the rehashing of the past—it all left a bad taste in his mouth, but it didn’t dampen the fire in his blood. Remembering Brenna’s physical response only fanned it. He’d reacquainted himself with the way she smelled and the feel of her skin. If he’d just kept his big mouth shut…

      Grimacing, he turned the water to cold and pushed the image of Brenna—deliciously wet and covered only in a scrap of fabric—from his mind. He had a lot of real work to do today, and a raging erection wasn’t going to help.

      Concentrating on the zoning issues for the new property in Sacramento did help, and while he might have been slightly distracted during the endless meetings, he managed to keep Brenna off his mind for the better part of the afternoon.

      As promised, Roger’s courier had the documents on his desk before the end of the business day, and Brenna was once again front and center in his thoughts. Only this time it was the image of Brenna, teary-eyed and trying to hold it together, that kept appearing.

      Brenna had said she was finished crying for him. And she’d said it so candidly, without any other pretense; he was leaning toward believing it. Had she cried alone? Without him knowing?

      That would make him a first-class bastard who deserved to have her walk out on him.

      Yet another reason he needed out of this mess. Quickly. He should let Roger handle it from here. It would be easier on him and Brenna both.

      Then why the hell was he on his way to Sonoma?

      Because I want her. Brenna was like a bad habit he’d thought he’d kicked years ago, but one tiny taste was enough to awaken the craving. Last night had cleared the air a little about their past, and the papers he had on the seat next to him should take care of their present problem. If Brenna wasn’t holding a grudge, he planned to finish what they’d started last night.

      As he made the turn onto Amante Verano property he was cautiously optimistic about the night ahead. But, like a junkie who knew his fix was just moments away, the craving intensified as he parked next to Brenna’s Jeep.

      The low hum of the television greeted him as he opened the door, and he saw Brenna on the couch, her long legs stretched out across the cushions. A magazine lay open on her lap; her face was serious as she read. She toyed with a lock of hair that had escaped the loose twist on the back of her head, more relaxed than he’d seen her in a long time. The image disappeared, though, when she heard his steps on the marble floor and the thud of his briefcase landing on the table. Startled, she turned to find the source of the noise, and the magazine slid to the floor.

      “Jack! I—I—didn’t realize you’d be back tonight.” She pushed a button on the remote and the TV went black.

      “Is that a problem?”

      “No, not at all. I’ve already told you you’re welcome here.” Brenna sounded friendly enough, but he still approached with caution, picking the magazine up off the floor and handing it back to her. It was a wine magazine. No surprise there.

      “Interesting reading?”

      “Very much so.” She grinned at him and his stomach tightened a bit. “There’s a fascinating article on cap management regimes, if you are looking for some light reading.”

      Bren wasn’t poised for attack; in fact he almost believed her attitude was genuine. Was she looking for a ceasefire as well? That would make this evening—and all his plans—much easier. “I’ll pass, thanks.” He took the chair opposite the couch and noticed the glass on the table between them. No stem. Straight sides. A dark amber liquid with a small film of white bubbles across the surface. “Is that a beer?”

      Brenna laughed. “Yes, it’s beer. Dianne and I went to town this afternoon, and I was able to replenish the supplies. Help yourself. There’s actual food in there, too, if you’re hungry,” she called at his back as he headed to the fridge.

      Brenna’s amazing attitude adjustment seemed too good to be true. His optimism grew.

      “A beer is all I need. It’s been a hell of a day.” He twisted off the cap and held the bottle by the neck as he slid the new agreement out of his briefcase.

      “Sorry to hear that. Something wrong at the office?”

      Her attempt at small talk brought a smile to his face, and it was tempting to just take his beer back to the living room for the simple, normal activity of human company and conversation after a long day. But that would only be a stalling tactic, and he wanted to get business out of the way first.

      Brenna СКАЧАТЬ