The dark voice was deep and husky and unmistakably Brody's.
“I-I… How did you know it was me?” Alanis asked weakly as a little shiver snaked down her spine.
“I could ask you the same thing, Alanis…” he drawled slowly. “But to answer your question, what other woman would still be working at 9 pm on a Friday? Anyway, I already phoned your apartment and there was no reply… Only the answering machine.”
Well… I could’ve been out,” Alanis answered quickly as the shiver was replaced by anger at the fact that he assumed she had nowhere else to go other than home or the office.
“Yes, you were out alright... You were at work,” Brody replied calmly. “And don't get on your high horse, Miss Roswell. It was you who told me that your cat and your work filled your days and nights.”
“I certainly did not.&rd
‘Stop it, Alanis!’ She shut her eyes tightly for a second in an attempt to block out her thoughts. But there was something about him, a dark, menacing kind of masculinity, that chewed her mind to the physical in spite of herself, and she found it all the more difficult to cope with because nothing of that kind had ever bothered her before. But with Brody McLean… She just couldn't ignore it, she conceded helplessly.“I know you live in Edgewater, but a few directions would be useful.” The deep voice cut into her tortured thoughts, and when she glanced out of the window, she realized she was nearly home, the Mercedes having eaten up the miles with flawless ease.“Of course. Sorry, I was daydreaming,” Alanis said hastily.“That does my ego a huge world
“You sure love your house very much. It’s a very pleasant place. Extremely welcoming,” Brody said quietly, after devouring a sandwich in a couple of bites, his gaze lingering on a painting on the far wall. “Wow… That's a Kimler, isn't it?” he asked softly as he turned back to her. “Yes, it is.” Alanis tried to hide her surprise, which hadn't been very well-received when he'd unexpectedly revealed that he liked cats. Matthew Kimler had only just arrived on the Chicago scene, and although he was an excellent artist and a very pleasant person, he wasn’t well-known and had no influential patrons to smooth his way. “You like his work?” “I know a little about him and his work, but my aunt does. She's followed his progress over the last few years, and she was quite thrilled when he left Seattle and moved to Chicago. By the way, I noticed one of his paintings in that art gallery you promoted. Am I to assu
The weekend that came was filled with self-pity and regret. Alanis told herself, over and over again, that she had much to be thankful for. Her career was at its highest point ever, she didn't have, and never had had, the financial worries that dogged so many people all their lives, she was young and healthy and strong in mind and body. And there was even a positive side to the accident too… She would never have to trudge around the house with straddled legs and aching back as she had seen so many expectant mothers do. Morning sickness, dirty nappies, sleepless nights, and all the worries connected with infant inoculations, diseases, illnesses, bullying at school… These would all pass her by. She was her own person, accountable to no one. She could please herself… travel or stay at home, be up at the crack
A blazing hot June gave way to a sultry, humid July. When, on the second of that month, exactly a month after the first fateful meeting in George's office, Alanis received a late-afternoon call from Brody suggesting that she fly out to his chateau in the South of France to familiarize herself with the house and grounds, she found she could answer with only a trace of breathlessness in her voice. “Of course. I was going to suggest something like that myself within the next week or two. I think we're just about ready for the next stage now, and it would be good to meet the French caterers face to face and settle every detail there.” “Very well, then.” Brody's voice was remote, almost expressionless. “I'll come with you, Alanis. There are certain points I want to pick up on myself, and it might be useful if I'm there to smooth the way in the preliminaries.” 'There'
For some reason, that little sign of vulnerability, the knowledge that he was as exposed to danger as the next human being in certain situations, brought an ache to her lower stomach and a constriction in her breathing that made her hands damp. Alanis tried to tear her eyes away but found herself surveying him hungrily in spite of herself. The way his thick, short eyelashes brushed the tanned skin, the heaviness of his eyebrows, the web of laughter lines fanning from the corners of his closed eyes. It was a male face, sensual, virile…“Can I get you anything to drink? Or maybe a magazine to read?” The smooth, cool voice of the graceful flight attendant brought her eyes snapping upwards, and Alanis blushed as hotly as if she had been caught doing something indecent, her cheeks burning until they matche
After he'd helped her to get out from the car, Alanis was disconcerted to find that he kept a casual arm around her waist as they walked to the door, which had just been opened by a pretty little maid complete in a black dress, and immaculate apron. “‘Bonjour, Monsieur McLean. Bonjour, Mademoiselle Roswell.’” (French for ‘Hello, Mr. McLean. Hello, Miss Roswell.’) Bright black eyes flashed interestedly over Alanis's face before being demurely lowered as the girl stood aside for them to enter. “‘Bonjour, Josephine. Comment ça va? Ça va bien? Je suis si content de te revoir après si longtemps.’” (French for ‘Hello, Josephine. How are things? All well? I’m so happy to see you after such long time.’), he said to the little maid in perfect French. As they stepped through the
“Oh, this is so lovely…” Contrary to Alanis's expectations, they had walked right through the dining room and out onto a massive veranda that ran the length of it, where a small wooden table and chairs were set amidst huge terracotta pots filled with scented shrubs, flowers, and trailing ivy. The dining room was situated at the back of the house and overlooked a large rose garden in which several tiny fountains splashed and shimmered among the velvet blooms of pink, red and white. The air was redolent with their heady perfume and filled with the tinkling sound of water.“I thought you would prefer something less… formal,” Brody said softly as he pulled out the chair for her. “My mother always takes her meals here when she visits, unless it is an occasion of some sort. My father had the rose garden planted for h
She'd won? Really? Alanis followed Brody out into the vast hall and up the long, winding staircase to the first-floor bedrooms with a feeling of disbelief tempering the awe that the beautiful house inspired in her. She had the distinct feeling that very few people had ever won a battle of wills with Brody McLean, and she didn't trust him.“Your room.” Brody stopped outside a pale oak door halfway down the landing and glanced down at her, his eyes hooded now and cold.“I'll come back for you in ten minutes when you've got your stuff together.”“There's no need,” Alanis said quickly. “You go down to the pool as you'd planned. I can find my way about and…”“Ten minutes, Alanis!” He opened the door and stood aside for her to enter. After
“Don't you understand that? The price of having me for your wife would be too high, Brody. You would never see your child born, hear its first cry, hold it in your arms. Never search a tiny face, seeking to find a little bit of me, a little bit of you. Never be able to say 'my son'…”“I know, Alanis. I know all that.” If he dodged the issue now, he would lose her forever, Brody knew that. Just as he had known, the moment she lost control, that she loved him. But he might still lose her, and that wasn't an option.“No, Brody! You don't, not really.” Alanis was gasping now, her body shaking in his arms, and, slowly, he lowered her to the ground, to sit on the beach. He was facing her with his hands cupping her face as tears streamed down her cheeks.“I really do, sweetheart. I understa
After that evening, Alanis barely survived. For the next few weeks, the strain of keeping her pain hidden by trying to maintain a bright, efficient image at work, brought her near to breaking point. And the last week of October, when she was due to fly out to France to oversee the launch was even worse. She hadn't seen or spoken to Brody since the night of her birthday. All their communication had been through e-mails, texts, and his icy PA, although she had had the strangest feeling more than once that a pair of unseen eyes were watching her every movement. It was stupid, Alanis knew it was stupid, but the sensation persisted right up until the day she flew out to France, alone. She had reserved a room in a fairly mediocre hotel for the duration of her five-day stay, along with a hire car to be delivered t
Brody smiled and invited her in.“Frequented by a resident housekeeper and her handyman husband along with several cats, in case you're worried you will be all alone with the big bad wolf,” Brody drawled mockingly. “Mrs. Clancy has been in the kitchen all day preparing for tonight, so don't run away now,” he added warningly. The interior of the house was stunning, as she had known it would be, from the uniquely beautiful galleried entrance hall to the large, high ceilinged reception rooms, right through to the massive olde-worlde kitchen, where Alanis met the impressive Mrs. Clancy, all flushed and trying to put the last touches on their dinner. Every corner of his house was absolutely amazing. Alanis never thought she could see such a place in Chicago. She loved it all, but then she had known sh
The next week passed, and then the next, and the only contact she had with Brody was by telephone or in brief meetings where he was very much the remote tycoon and kept everyone on their toes, bossing everyone around. Alanis flew out to France twice in the next few weeks but made sure her schedule could be accommodated in day trips which didn't necessitate more than a day and a half. She informed Brody's PA each time she planned to go, but Brody didn't join her as she had half expected… and wanted. The period was pretty stressful. She was eating less, sleeping less, working harder, and more confused than she had ever been in the days following the accident. August came, blazed brightly, and left, and in the second week of September, Alanis woke up one morning to the knowledge that it was her twenty-ninth birthday and she was
Thursday was a day she endured with gritted teeth, both dreading and longing for the moment when she opened the door that evening. There was a mountain of work waiting for her concerning the ‘Sea Hawk’ project when she got into the office, but the chaotic pace helped overall, although the lack of sleep the night before had her light-headed by the time Alanis left office at 5. And the apartment was empty. Sickeningly, stomach-wrenchingly empty. Alanis forced herself to make a sandwich that went straight in the bin, swallowed a couple of aspirins for her blinding headache, then went to lie down on the bed to rest her aching head before she started ringing around some neighbors. Alanis had found that the only way she could function that day was to blot all thoughts of Brody out of her mind, and now, as she slippe
The damn cat! He'd wring its neck himself when he found it! “I promise,” she said shakily. It felt strange to be worried over… Alanis hadn't had anyone show any real concern for what she did for so long that she had forgotten how good it felt. “Okay, Alanis. Now, give me the torch you used and I'll go looking for an hour or two,” Brody said quietly, narrowing his eyes and noticing the exhausted drop of her shoulders and the downward tilt to her mouth. “I… I haven't got a torch,” she admitted guiltily, expecting a further lecture on the seriousness of her crime. But Brody merely stared at her for another moment without speaking, shaking his dark head slowly as though he was lost for words, before turning to leave. “Brody, please… I want to come too…” “No.” &nbs
The day after, their breakfast together was a cool affair, with Brody standoffish and cold behind his newspaper after a superficial good morning and a sharp, penetrating glance at her white face and shadowed eyes. Their journey to the airport, the long flight to the States, the car ride through Chicago to her apartment… all were conducted in the same distant, remote silence, broken only by a casual, impersonal word exchange about the ‘Sea Hawk’ project. When they drew up outside her house, Brody gestured to his chauffeur, who had been waiting at the airport, to remain in the car, and carried her suitcase himself, despite her insistence that she could manage. The tall, commanding tycoon in the designer-cut suit and hand-made Italian shoes
Alanis must’ve slept in the warmth of the evening sun, but some sixth sense suddenly brought her awake to find herself staring straight into Brody's eyes where he lay propped on his lounger watching her. She couldn't remember falling asleep… Certainly, she hadn't intended to as she had lain there stiff and taut, her mind exploring endless possibilities and explanations that would contest what her heart was telling her. No, she couldn’t be in love with him… This was pure madness. And besides, she didn't want to! She didn't want to love anyone, least of all Brody. But… she did. Utterly, madly, and helplessly. And certainly hopelessly.“Sleeping Beauty…” He smiled lazily as his eyes caressed her face.&l
“What?” Alanis stared at him, unable to believe she was hearing right.“And don't play dumb, it doesn't suit you at all. You know exactly what I’m talking about, Alanis. He knows about your past life, your old boyfriend, this John… What is Jacques Benoit to you? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Yet, I'm left standing there like a fool under the sun. Oh, to hell with it!” Brody ground out the words through clenched teeth.“What does it matter anyway?”“But I don't know Jacques Benoit,” she said confusedly, utterly bewildered by the rage darkening the rugged features.“Exactly! He’s a stranger to you, a complete stranger, yet he knows more about you than I do. How do you think that made me feel?” Brody asked furiously, his eyes slits of silver.“I&h