A slow grin spread across Roderick’s face. “And Remy went overboard, started lecturing the guy about Zandra being a virgin and a nice girl, not one of those skeezers at school. He told him he expected Zandra to be returned home in the same condition she’d left—or else.” Roderick laughed at the memory, wagging his head at Remy. “You scared the shit out of that poor kid.”
Remy scowled. “That ‘poor kid’ was the captain of the football team. He knew exactly where I was coming from.”
Royce laughed. “Remember how Remy wanted to follow them to make sure they didn’t take any detours?”
“Yeah, and when we talked him out of that idea, he actually suggested hanging out at Zandra’s grandmother’s house to wait for her to come home.”
Remy’s face heated as his brothers burst into another round of laughter. Damn, he should have kept his ass at home tonight.
Roderick looked at him, his eyes dancing with mirth. “All of us were protective of Zandra, so at the time we just figured you were acting out of brotherly concern for her. But now...” He trailed off, a broad grin stretching across his face. “Knowing what we know now, it puts the past in a whole new light.”
Remy frowned, dropping his gaze to the frothy dregs of his beer. He didn’t want to consider the implications of what his brothers were saying. He didn’t want to believe that he’d been carrying a damn torch for Zandra all these years, and he’d done nothing about it.
Grinning mischievously, River slung an arm around Remy’s neck and offered consolingly, “Look on the bright side. Unless that was a cabana boy in Zandra’s hotel room that night, you’re—as they say—in like Flynn.”
Chapter Thirteen
On Wednesday afternoon, Remy was in his office reviewing holographic schematics of a secret military compound located off the coast of Norway.
That morning he and Roderick had met with a defense contractor, who’d given Remy the classified diagram in exchange for information about the new technology under development by Roderick’s team of engineers at Brand International Corp. The project, spearheaded by Remy, featured a high-tech military uniform outfitted with a computer system to provide situational awareness displays, which would give soldiers a tactical advantage in combat. The technology was expected to be fully developed well ahead of the Department of Defense’s own version of the futuristic uniform.
By the end of the meeting, Remy and Roderick had a new multimillion-dollar contract, which they celebrated with cigars and a back-slapping hug before Roderick left to accompany Lena to her first prenatal appointment.
Remy was watching holographic soldiers march through the diagrammed compound when a knock sounded at his door.
“You wanted to see me?”
Remy glanced over his shoulder, meeting the glacier-blue eyes of a tall, muscular man leaning negligently against the doorjamb.
“Yeah.” Remy pressed a button on the remote control, and the hologram vanished.
Duke grinned, shaking his head. “That is the coolest thing I’ve ever seen. It’s like something out of Star Wars.”
Remy chuckled. “Pull up a seat, Gannon.”
Duke sauntered to the visitor chair and flopped down, thick black hair falling over his eyes. When he reached up to push the unruly mass off his forehead, his short sleeve rose over his biceps to reveal the same trident tattoo worn by Remy.
Duke Gannon was the newest addition to Brand Security Solutions. After suffering a near-fatal injury during a reconnaissance operation gone awry, he’d been relieved of duty and sent home to Chicago to undergo months of therapy and rehab. He’d been doing well until he received his discharge papers, spelling out in black and white that his days as a Navy SEAL were over. He’d sunk into a deep depression until a friend of a friend referred him to Remy’s company.
As Remy walked to his desk and sat down, Duke drawled lazily, “What’s up, Chief?”
“I have an assignment for you.” Remy slid a folder across the desk to Duke, who picked it up and opened it. “I need you to go undercover as Jonah Spanier, a wealthy financier from California. You just relocated to Chicago, so you gotta lose the accent.”