Page 22 of Courting Gossip (Courting)
‘Sorry,’ she said as she glanced down. ‘I forgot to pack a robe, of all things.’
He nodded. He could see that.
She tugged at the short hemline, which only made the material pull tighter over her breasts. ‘I suppose I could borrow one from you, if it makes you uncomfortable.’
‘You’re fine.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Unless you’re cold.’
On the contrary. ‘It seems warm in here to me.’
And getting warmer. She took a drink of her coffee and watched him over the lip of the cup. For such a ruthless wheeler-dealer, the guy certainly didn’t look the part. He’d hate to hear it, but he was a cutie. Younger than someone she’d expect in his position, fitter and hotter. How he managed to stay behind the scenes, she didn’t know. He turned her head whenever he was within spotting distance.
He walked further into the room and put a leather folder on the dining-room table. She noticed how he stood behind the back of a chair and wrapped his fingers around it.
‘Did you just get up?’ he asked.
‘A little bit ago. I caught a clip on the morning news.’ She swept the remote off the counter and turned off the television in the next room. ‘You’ve been a busy boy.’
‘It was a productive morning.’
Good to hear. If there were problems, she was heading straight for the airport – or maybe back to that guest bedroom to hide under the covers. ‘Did you really have to mummify Samuel?’
His forehead rumpled.
‘The arm,’ he finally said. He rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Too much?’
‘I was waiting for Steve Martin to start singing “King Tut” in the background.’
He frowned. ‘We had limited time to make our point.’
‘Smoke and mirrors. I understand.’ She smothered a yawn and stretched in a way that had her nightie shifting dangerously. ‘All in all, the interview seemed like it went well to me.’
‘Better than expected,’ he said, his voice gruff. He shook his head and reached into his breast pocket. ‘There’s just one more thing that needs to be taken care of.’
He pulled out a folded set of papers and crooked a finger at her. ‘Come with me.’
He crossed the kitchen and strode straight to the fireplace in the living room. It was gas-powered. All it took was the flick of a switch and flames were jumping behind the glass doors. Genieve stopped at his side. She felt underdressed standing next to him in his suit and tie, but he seemed more discomfited than she did. She liked him off-centre. It made him seem more human. Less rigid and intimidating.
‘Here,’ he said as he passed her the papers. ‘You can do the honours.’
She set her coffee cup down on the hearth of the fireplace and unfolded the document. She wasn’t surprised. It was her escort contract with the senator. ‘You do realise that by burning this I make myself unemployed.’
‘Would you prefer those two reporters get their hands on it?’
She went quiet. Those two had truly scared her, first for her safety and now for her reputation and livelihood. Were they still in a jail cell? What were they telling the police?
Brody watched her closely. ‘Don’t worry. They won’t be a bother to you any more.’
How could he know that?
She slowly lifted her gaze. ‘What did you do to them?’
He shrugged as if it were inconsequential. ‘I applied pressure to weaknesses.’
And there was the incongruity. As handsome and clean-cut as he was, Brody fought dirty. He didn’t deal in the physical that she knew of, but with the right information the tactics were the same. She didn’t know if she should be relieved or scared.
But she did feel safer.
She sighed and flipped through the pages. ‘Did you get them to keep quiet about Samuel, too?’
