A Very Private Merger Read online

  “Your reports proved that,” he replied just as seriously. “There were a few details you could have included that you didn’t.”

  “What sort of details?”

  “Over the past three months I’ve mentioned various new business contracts up for grabs. You could have reported those to the Kincaids.”

  Her brows drew together. “How do you know I didn’t? I could have told them in person. After all, it would have been foolish to leave a paper trail.”

  “Even so, you didn’t, otherwise I wouldn’t have won the contracts.”

  “That doesn’t prove—”

  “I would have lost a few of them, probably more than a few, if you’d told the Kincaids about it. Not only that, but on at least two occasions you had access to my bid sheets, if you’d been so inclined to pass on the information.”

  “I wasn’t so inclined,” she replied, a tart edge sliding through her words.

  “I’m well aware of that.” He touched her hair in a reconciliatory manner. “Why are we arguing about this when there are so many more interesting things we could be doing?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know. Okay, yes, I do.” She caught his face between her hands and lifted upward to kiss him, a slow, soothing kiss that promised they’d soon be getting to every last one of those “interesting things.”

  “I just want to make it clear that no matter what happens in the future, I would never betray you.”

  The words held an ominous undertone, one he refused to dwell on. Not when he held a naked woman in his arms. “I appreciate the reassurance.”

  Before she could say anything else, he cupped her breast and took a loving bite from the apple. Her breath exploded from her lungs and she moaned in pleasure. “Again. Do that again.”

  Instead, he turned his attention to her other breast, teasing the nipple with his tongue, allowing the warmth of his exhale to fan the dampness. She shuddered at the teasing sensation, moving restlessly beneath him, the friction adding to the tension building between them. He never tired of reacquainting himself with all that made her so deliciously female, her curves generous where they should be generous and delicate where they should be delicate. He waited until he felt the slight give to her muscles signaling her relaxation and then used his teeth to tug at her nipple again.

  With an incoherent cry, she arched beneath him, her hands sliding into his hair and holding him close to her breast. Unable to resist, his hands skated downward, tripping across the toned ripple of her abdomen to the joining between her thighs. She opened to him and he cupped her warmth, reveling in skin so soft it defied comparison. And still, he teased, finding the moist seam that hid the feminine core of her at the same instant as his tongue penetrated the moist seam of her mouth.

  She went under, dragging him with her, surging upward with her hips while she rolled with him until she lay on top. She was incandescent in her want, beautiful and determined, more giving than any woman he’d known. Her hands swept down his chest and she broke the kiss to follow the path of her hands, mimicking all he’d done to her earlier. Her breath came hot against his skin, her mouth and teeth avid against his own nipples.

  And all the while her hands were busy, busy, busy, finding the source of his own desire and stoking it to the level of a raging inferno. Just when he didn’t think he could take it another instant, she eased down onto him, enclosing him in searing heat. She paused for an eternity like some sort of pagan goddess, her head thrown back, her rich, dark hair cascading down her back. Then she moved, setting in motion the first steps to a dance she’d come close to perfecting in the three months they’d been together.

  He grasped her hips, moving with her, leading then following until there were no leaders. No followers. Just two people melded together so completely, their movements and desires so in tune with one another, that for a moment he thought they were one. One body. One need. One thought. One emotion.

  The dance swirled faster and faster until it could go no further. With a hoarse cry, Jack thrust upward, reaching for Nikki, pulling her close. He felt her shatter a split second before he followed her over, the tumble endless and endlessly satisfying. Gasping for breath, she collapsed against him, a boneless melting that would have had him laughing if only he had sufficient air.

  He wrapped his arms around her and held her close, her name the only word he was capable of uttering. She pressed a kiss to his damp chest, delicious little shudders sweeping through her in the aftermath of their lovemaking. “I keep thinking it can’t get any better,” she murmured. “And you keep proving me wrong.”

  “I do my best,” he said humbly.

  He felt her smile against his chest. “Now be quiet and go to sleep.”

  “I thought that was supposed to be my line.”

  Her soft laugh rumbled straight through him. “Since I was on top this time, my line.”

  Jack was asleep before the smile faded from his face.

  * * *

  Nikki woke to the deepness of night, disoriented by the hard masculine body beneath her own. She shifted, realizing to her amusement that Jack slept soundly on his stomach while she lay draped across his back like a human blanket, his firm male buttocks cushioning her hips. Her soft chuckle caused him to stir beneath her.

  “What the hell…?”

  “Apparently, I’ve turned kinky in my sleep,” she commented.

  “I’d agree with you, except there’s not much either of us can do in this position.”

  She gave his rump an appreciative pat. “Speak for yourself.” Rolling off him, she sat up and blinked sleepily at the digital clock. The soft blue glow informed her it was almost two and the dinner she’d been in the middle of preparing when Jack arrived had gone uneaten. “Man, I’m starving. What about you?”

  “I could choke down a steak if you forced me.” He levered upward. “Along with the rest of the cow, right down to the hide, hooves and tail.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Not so sure about the hide and hooves, not to mention the tail, but I do have a nice big steak with your name on it. It won’t take a minute to grill.”

  “Lead the way.”

  Nikki retrieved her cover-up on the way out of the room, ignoring Jack’s sleepy protest. “I’m not cooking naked. There are too many parts I might burn.”

  “That silky thing isn’t much protection,” he informed her, pulling on his trousers.

  “Not from you, maybe, but it’s protection enough from any cooking spatter.”

  Fortunately, she managed to avoid the spatter. She didn’t even attempt to avoid Jack’s occasional caress. Why would she, when they were so delicious? It didn’t take long to pull together a quick meal, especially with Jack’s help. His willingness to lend a hand in the kitchen—or anywhere else she needed it—was one of the things that had impressed her right from the start.

  He exuded a tough, masculine competence, going about his chores with a calm ease and economy of motion that spoke of a man comfortable in his own skin. And despite the ruthlessness she’d accused him of inheriting from his father, he also possessed unlimited generosity toward others, as well as a deep-seated tenderness that came out at the most unexpected times. Of equal importance to her, he possessed an innate honesty that tempered that ruthless streak. It reminded her of her father and it saddened her that the two men would never know each other since she suspected they’d have been firm friends.

  Though Nikki had turned on a few lights, the denseness of night invaded the house, adding an air of intimacy to the process. As soon as the meal was prepared, she carried it to an alcove off the kitchen where a small café table and chairs were placed for more informal meals. Aside from the overhead spots, darkness enclosed them like a cozy blanket.

  Silence prevailed while they made inroads into their meal. After several moments, Jack shot her a direct look, regarding her with a calmness she often associated with his business face. “It occurs to me that you never answered my question earlier.”

  �
�What question is that?”

  As he so often did, he answered with absolute directness. “Will you help me look into the murder of my father?”

  She hesitated, recalling his warning that he intended to pursue it regardless of whether or not she chose to help. She didn’t doubt his sincerity for a single moment. Nor did she doubt that his single-minded drive might lead him to places better avoided. Maybe if she were there to temper his actions, they’d both manage to circumvent trouble.

  “I’m willing to help…with a few conditions.”

  He tackled his steak once again, a small smile tugging at his mouth. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

  “First, I won’t do anything that harms the Kincaids or interferes with my job there.”

  Jack shook his head. “I can’t promise that, Nikki. What if one of them killed Dad?”

  “Obviously, that’s a different story.”

  “If that’s the case, then you’ll have to be willing to look long and hard at them, to give serious consideration to the possibility that someone you like, someone you care about, could be the murderer.”

  “It’s not them,” she replied steadily. “Just as I know it’s not you, I know that none of your brothers and sisters would kill their own father, any more than you would.”

  He leveled her with a hard look. “Stop referring to them that way. They’re not my brothers and sisters.”

  “Alan’s also a half brother and yet I’ve heard you call him your brother.”

  “Only when forced to,” Jack replied unenthusiastically.

  She couldn’t help laughing. Not that she blamed him. Alan was…odd. Though charming and easy on the eyes, he seemed to dislike the sort of hard work that the Kincaids thrived on. And that included Jack, who she considered a Kincaid by blood, if not by name.

  In looks, Alan took after his and Jack’s mother, Angela. They both shared the same golden-blond hair and lively hazel eyes. But while Angela possessed an underlying grit and determination, despite a distinctive air of vulnerability, Alan simply conveyed weakness and the general attitude that the world owed him a living. Even when offered that living, as Reginald had in his will—requesting a position be made available for Alan at The Kincaid Group—not once in the past five months had Alan followed through.

  “To get back to the point of the conversation, I have another condition which is that we can’t interfere in the police investigation in any way,” Nikki continued. “I won’t put Charles in an awkward position or do anything to compromise his case.”

  “Agreed. Anything else?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  The words had scarcely left her lips before Jack leaned forward and gave her a swift kiss. “That seals our deal.”

  “Knowing you, I’d better reserve the right to add the occasional addendum to our agreement.”

  He shook his head. “Too late. You’re welcome to try to add something else but I can’t promise I’ll agree to it.”

  “You’re a tough man to bargain with.”

  “Hey, I was cutting you some slack.”

  “If that’s cutting me slack, I’d hate to see when you’re negotiating in earnest.”

  For a split second his expression altered, allowing her to catch a glimpse of the business predator he rarely revealed to her. A chill shot down her spine. Heaven help her, but she hoped she’d never have cause to face him across the negotiating table. Jack was a man who played for keeps and she’d do well to remember that. She hadn’t realized it at the time, but he’d let her off the hook over today’s fiasco with relative ease. It would have been far different if he’d been just a hair more ruthless, more unforgiving or hadn’t given a damn about maintaining their relationship.

  Then another thought struck, one she forced herself to dismiss, but suspected would linger in the far recesses of her mind for some time to come. What if he had another purpose for reconciling with her tonight? What if it had only been because he still needed her…versus he cared about their relationship more than his vendetta against the Kincaids or his desire to clear his name?

  Jack paused in the process of clearing their plates from the table. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “You look upset.”

  Nikki shook her head, avoiding his gaze. “It’s nothing.”

  She forced out a smile and pitched in to help with the dishes. She was wrong. She had to be. Jack wouldn’t use her like that. She spared him a swift glance.

  Would he?

  * * *

  The two slept in Saturday morning, curled together so completely Nikki couldn’t tell where she left off and where Jack began.

  “So, what’s our first move?” he asked after they’d polished off a light brunch.

  She hesitated. “You’re handing me the lead?”

  “Sure, why not?” A quick smile came and went. “I’m not such a control freak that I don’t know how and when to delegate. You can’t build a top-notch company without that ability. I also know how to choose the best person for any given job. And for this job, you’re it.”

  “Okay. I can handle it.” Maybe. She gave it a moment’s thought and realized the first step was fairly obvious. “We should visit Elizabeth.”

  Jack frowned and she could guess why. While the Kincaids would consider Angela Sinclair “the other woman,” for most of Jack’s life Elizabeth held that position in the Sinclair household. Considering how protective he was of his mother, she didn’t doubt he resented Elizabeth and her claim to the Kincaid name.

  “Why do we have to see her?” he asked reluctantly.

  “We don’t if it’ll be too difficult for you.” She shifted closer, offering her warmth and comfort. “She’s the most stressful of the Kincaids for you to deal with, isn’t she?”

  He hesitated, on the verge of denying it, before inclining his head. “She possessed what my mother spent most of her life craving. His name. Recognition. Acceptance. When I was younger, I would have given anything and everything to provide Mom with that. But it wasn’t in my power.”

  “Nor was it Elizabeth’s fault,” Nikki said gently.

  “Logically, I know that. But emotionally…” He shook his head.

  “So, you hate her.”

  “Actually, I don’t,” he surprised Nikki by admitting. “It took most of my teenage years to get to the point where I could see what my parents were doing to her was wrong, dead wrong, not the other way around. She was the injured party, not either of my parents.” He gave a quick shrug. “That doesn’t change the protectiveness I feel toward my mother.”

  Nikki hugged him close, relieved when he returned the hug. She could practically see another barrier between them fading into nonexistence. “Of course it doesn’t change how you feel about your mother. And it shouldn’t.”

  “So, why do we have to meet with Elizabeth?”

  “Other than the killer, she was the last person to see your father alive. I think it’s worth talking to her about what happened that night.”

  He took a split second to consider then nodded. “That’s logical. Why don’t you phone her. Somehow I think she’ll be more willing to agree to a meet if the request comes from you.”

  She placed the call, not the least surprised when it took several minutes to convince Elizabeth to speak with them about Reginald’s death. Nikki could understand her reluctance and desire to put that night behind her. But finally they agreed to meet at Maybelle’s, a coffeehouse not far from Rainbow Row. She and Jack arrived first and arranged for a table toward the back, well away from the general flow of traffic. They didn’t have long to wait before the widow put in an appearance. To their surprise, her fiancé, Cutter Reynolds, was with her.

  She swept up to the table, aggression sparking in her distinctive green eyes and communicating itself in the tense way she held her elegant body. Though Nikki knew for a fact that Elizabeth Kincaid celebrated her sixtieth birthday this year, she remained a stunning woman, looking a full decade younger than her chronological age. She wore her auburn hai
r cut in a short, trendy style and had kept her figure trim, her athletic build showcased by an off-white pair of slacks and bronze silk blouse. Discreet bits of gold flashed at her ears, wrists and neck.

  “I don’t know what you want from me, but I doubt there’s anything I can say to help you,” she announced, lobbing the first volley.

  Jack stood and regarded her for a long moment, then held out his hand. “Even so, I appreciate your joining us, Mrs. Kincaid, especially considering I must represent a living insult to you and your marriage.”

  She stared at his hand for a long moment. Behind her, Cutter murmured her name and just like that her anger slipped away. With a soft sigh, she took Jack’s hand and gave it a firm shake. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, call me Elizabeth. As if all this wasn’t awkward enough.” To Nikki’s surprise she gave a short huff of exasperation. “And fool that I am, here I have us meeting in public where everyone can see and gossip about it.”

  Jack nodded in perfect understanding. “Since they’re going to gossip, anyway, I suggest we say to hell with it and give them something juicy to gnaw on.”

  Her chin shot up. “And what would that be, Mr. Sinclair?”

  “Well, instead of setting off fireworks the way they expect, we could pretend to be friendly. One of us could even laugh.”

  His comment caused Elizabeth to do just that. Cutter pulled out a chair and she settled into it. Then she fixed her cool gaze on Nikki, who waited to be cut to shreds in typical sweet-as-honey Southern fashion. Instead, Elizabeth inclined her head. “It’s always good to see you, Nikki. Your mother and I had lunch just Wednesday past. I swear she looks younger every time I see her, which leaves me fit to be tied.”

  “She’ll be thrilled to hear it.”

  “Don’t you dare tell her I said that. There’ll be no living with her.”

  The waitress stopped by, her avid gaze passing over the group, no doubt committing any comments she might have caught to memory, as well as everyone’s demeanor. “Herbal tea, please, Jo,” Elizabeth requested, obviously familiar with their waitress. “And are the blueberries local?”