Flynn grunted. “You have gained entry into a land of sensual taboo and come up golden. Hot assistant by day, stripper by night, all wrapped up in a sweet package. You need to lock that down and stop worryin’ about the workplace logistics.”
The man had a point. Time to nut up or shut up. It was also time to face a few cold, hard truths.
“I need you to run a background check on her. Not that a shady strip club owner’s loan operation will be on public record, but I need to know what else is going on. School, jobs, family.”
Because if Brody knew anything, it was that Emma had gone to great lengths to hide all that sass and sexiness under a prim and proper exterior. Sex kitten masked as dowdy PA. Every minute with her increased his attraction and his curiosity to know the real woman.
She and her dumb cat had insinuated themselves into his quietly ordered life. But more than that, she hadn’t flinched at a single thing he threw at her, all his filthy demands. This woman understood his needs and was able to reconcile them with her own.
There was work to be done, a woman to unravel. He didn’t know if he could be what Emma wanted…he just knew that she might be exactly what he needed.
“Look, I’ll do the check,” Flynn said, “but what if you find out somethin’ that was best buried?”
“Better I know now.” That’s what had prevented him from pushing before: the notion that her past might make him care. Before he stepped off the ledge, he had to be sure she hadn’t left a string of broke, and broken, men across the country.
Of course, this reasoning assumed he wasn’t already in so deep that a recitation of her past misdeeds could stop him now. He suspected his heart was already in play.
And that didn’t scare him as much as it should have.
Emma had always loved heights. Roller coasters and thrill rides. Living on that sweet, heart-pounding edge. So looking out over Brody’s penthouse terrace was about as much fun as she could have with her clothes on.
The city stretched out before her, its gleaming glass and steel pronouncing progress, wealth, and beauty. She loved Chicago. Would love to have stayed.
Anger bubbled in her chest at the thought of having to start over. Brody would give her the money, but then it would always be between them. It was bad enough he’d forked over that cash to keep her out of Ray’s clutches for a week. If, or when, he found out about the video, she would be a shoo-in for the Women Who Betrayed Brody club.
She was falling for him. Into him. All that strength that drew her to sink against him and hold on tight. Relying on his solidity would be too dangerous.
Giving him up was so unfair, but people like her did not do happy ever afters. She could try climbing above her station, but it seemed she was destined to stay playing at dirt level. Too uppity, Granny Maude had called her as a child. She’d subsisted on delusions of grandeur, the hope that merit and hard work could trump the geography of her birth. This was America, for Christ’s sake. No point blaming Daisy, either. She was as much a prisoner of her upbringing as Emma. She needed to pick her up, get her out. Run as fast as her feet could carry her.
Leave this man she loved behind to protect him.
Damn, she had to go and fall for the one man who had every reason to despise her. He just didn’t know yet all the reasons why he should.
Footsteps sounded, and a shiver of anticipation danced through her.
Please have a pimple or a cold sore. Please don’t look perfectly lickable.
She turned. Shit. The old top-shirt-button-undone move and a wicked grin made for her. Forget about falling, she may as well have taken a spectacular header off the sixtieth floor.
Of course he looked the same as he had an hour ago when he kissed her in front of his friends and family like she truly mattered. He smiled that heart-stopping grin that, yep, stopped her heart cold. She turned back to the city because it was the best way she could think to restart it. But it only jumped to life when he encircled her arms and caged her in his strong embrace.
“Thanks for being so cool about today,” he whispered in her ear. “My sister, her friends, even Flynn. As usual, you handled everything with your typical flair. Makes me wonder.”
“What’s that?”
“Who are you again?”
She smiled into the night at this little running joke between them. “Emma Strickland, PA extraordinaire, cat wrangler, and sex goddess.”
The curve of his smile against her neck sent tingles tripping across her skin. “I’m glad we’re not a secret anymore. I don’t like secrets.”
We. Hell, if she didn’t love that a little too much. She snorted, tried to turn it into a self-deprecating laugh. “Then you’re hanging with the wrong girl.”
“Maybe you should trust me. I handled your stripper reveal so well.”
She sank back. Never had she encountered a chest as perfectly designed for leaning as Brody’s. “By giving me an anger orgasm.”
“The best kind.”
A shared chuckle warmed the space between them. They remained there, enjoying the quiet intimacy wrapping around them like the night.