His Reputation Read online

  She worked her fingers into the elastic holding her hair back and yanked it free, letting the loose strands fall around her shoulders. The ponytail had kept it from getting soaked, and it was nice to have the almost-dry warmth against her skin. She’d rather it was his hand again, but the moment seemed to be gone.

  How had she ended up in this man’s car in the pouring rain, toeing the line of indecent conversation and fantasizing about stripping off his wet clothes? “The barista knows me. She saw us leave together.”

  “So they’ll come after you when they find my body dead and mangled in a gutter?” His teasing smirk never faded.

  She batted her eyelashes. “Yes. And the police will track me down, bringing my long string of kidnapping devastatingly sexy men to an end.”

  “Sexy?” He leaned closer, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

  Crap, she hadn’t meant to say that. No, wait, this was perfect. She wasn’t being frigid anymore. She could do flirting. Especially when he made it so easy. Her voice was husky when she replied. “Definitely sexy.”

  “And you’re going to devastate me?” His fingers lingered on her ear, tracing light lines, eyes searching hers. She inhaled sharply when he trailed down to her earlobe and then brushed the hollow behind it where her neck met her jaw.

  Her heart hammered against her ribcage, and her mind argued with itself—half insisting this was grossly inappropriate and the other half saying she was thinking too much. He was a random stranger, not a client or an associate. Just a guy whose rough palm against her neck was driving her thoughts wild. “I wouldn’t mind trying.”

  Wind howled against the vehicle, rain slamming into it from all sides and drowning out the rest of the world. She could get lost in those eyes.

  “Don’t you need to get home?” He didn’t pull away, and his skin was hot against hers.

  The same argument she’d had with herself when Riley called echoed in her thoughts, but this time she was leaning toward continuing to swap one-liners with the sexy stranger instead of trudging back to her condo.

  She shifted her weight in the seat and leaned into his hand, her voice almost lost in the storm outside. “Right. I should do that.”

  The corner of his mouth twitched, fingertips gliding along the back of her neck. “You’re not convincing me.”

  She exhaled at the light touch, currents of anticipation flowing through her. “I haven’t convinced myself.”

  “Maybe I can help tip the scales in my favor.” He dipped his head and brushed his lips over hers.

  She whimpered and scooted closer, returning the kiss. His mouth was hot against hers, his muffled chuckle ending in a groan when she nipped at his bottom lip. His fingers tangled in her hair, tongue probing her mouth. Her hand rested on his chest, and she traced the bulk that was solid muscle.

  He tugged her head back with a hungry growl, tongue gliding down her jaw and neck, resting in the hollow at the base of her throat. His words vibrated against her skin. “If I’d thought things out...” He kissed along her collarbone, teeth grazing the soft skin where her shoulder met her neck. “I might have actually made this a love van.”

  She arched her back when his fingers danced up her spine. She pressed her chest into his, the rough texture of damp fabric biting into her skin. The sensation was enticing, but left her wanting the clothes out of the way completely. “I can’t believe it’s never come up before.”

  His laugh was a low rumble, laden with lust. He pushed the bottom of her shirt up, caressing her waist. “Trust me, that’s not an issue now. It’s up.”

  The innuendo was horrible but alluring. A bold voice in her thoughts drove her and overrode her hesitation. Her fingers dropped to his leg, caressing the inside of his thigh, damp denim harsh against the pads of her fingertips. “You mentioned something earlier about a hands-on experiment?”

  He growled against her shoulder, and his hand moved to the front of her shirt, sliding up her stomach. “Now you’re just teasing me.”

  She squirmed under his touch, need growing hot between her legs. “Now? What were we doing before?”

  His thumb dipped under her bra, brushing the bottom of her breast. She gasped and moved her hand higher up his thigh. Part of her was intensely aware of how public their parking spot was. The other half wanted to slide his seat back and straddle his legs. Both halves agreed she didn’t want to stop.

  He kissed her again, and she pressed back, hungry. She massaged the inside of his leg, moaning with need.

  A familiar ringtone echoed through the car, and she cursed her sister for picking now to call back.

  “Do you need to get that?” His strong grip held her in place.

  “She’ll wait.” Kenzie glided her hand higher, brushing his erection through his jeans.

  He hissed and pulled her closer, almost throwing her off balance and forcing her to lean into him to keep from falling off the seat.

  A digital chirp filled the car, mingling with the fading tones of Kenzie’s phone.

  “And that would be my keeper calling.” His hands slid down her arms, and he pushed her upright, his face flushed and breathing heavy. “In case you didn’t know, weekend work emergencies suck.”

  He knew that without taking the call? Her brows knit together, and she couldn’t hide her disappointment. “You can’t maybe ignore them for a couple minutes?”

  “I can’t think of anything that would make my weekend brighter.” He tangled his fingers in her hair, kissing her hard one more time before sinking back into his seat and exhaling loudly. “I can put it off long enough to drop you off, but not long enough to give you a ride.”

  She understood making sacrifices for a job, but the last snippet of innuendo didn’t dilute the disappointment washing over her. She sat back in her own seat. “Completely understand.”

  He grasped her fingers between his, kissing her knuckles. “But if it helps any, you’re now officially my favorite fantasy.”

  The gesture sent flutters through her chest, and the words brought the fading heat rushing back to her face and every other inch of her body. “Ditto.”

  RILEY WAS SITTING ON the couch, arms folded, pale face drawn into a scowl, when Kenzie pushed into the apartment.

  “Where have you been?” Riley demanded. “You weren’t answering your phone. I thought maybe something bad happened.” She sat straighter, aggravation fading to curiosity. “Who does the jacket belong to?”

  Kenzie couldn’t keep the grin from her face. Even her sister’s glower wasn’t enough to spoil the residual tingles. “I don’t know. I didn’t get his name.”

  Riley’s shoulders relaxed, and she leaned back into beige cushions. “Really? Spill.”

  Kenzie’s smile grew, and she raked her fingers through her hair, working out some of the tangles. She shouldn’t say it, but she couldn’t help herself. “There’s not much to tell. Guy from the coffee shop gave me a lift home. Things may or may not have gotten intense enough to steam up his windows before he dropped me off.”

  Riley’s jaw dropped. “Mackenzie Carter, are you yanking my chain?”

  Kenzie flushed. Finally, she had shocked her sister. And she was considering doing it again. She did need to give Mr. G4M3G0D back his jacket, and she knew where he spent a lot of his Saturday mornings. “Completely serious.”

  Riley smirked. “I don’t need details. Unless he was hot. Like super, extra sexy.”

  Kenzie’s mouth twisted, and she stared back at her sister. “He wasn’t bad. He had a nice car. That’s sexy, right?”

  Riley didn’t look impressed. “So in other words he was kind of bland and dim-witted. Not so much out of the ordinary for you after all.”

  Kenzie glared at her twin, not liking the implication. “He was gorgeous, intelligent, and did incredible things with his fingers.” And lips, and mouth, and tongue. “Better?”

  Riley rolled her eyes, dragged herself from the couch, and brushed past her, talking as she padded into the guest bedroom. “What
ever. Keep trying to build up the lie, and you might start to believe it. I know I don’t.”

  Kenzie spun, glaring at her sister’s back and struggling to remember why she’d hurried home. Her phone rang, postponing the irritation. She knew from the ringtone it was work. It wasn’t like them to call on a Saturday.

  “This is Mackenzie.” She adopted her most professional tone.

  “What’s your calendar look like for the next few months?” her boss, Greta, asked.

  The lack of formality didn’t surprise Kenzie. Greta didn’t believe in small talk.

  She didn’t hesitate to accept the offer. As a contractor, work meant getting paid, and she was trying to pad her bank account as much as possible. Early retirement wouldn’t pay for itself, and if she stuck to her plan, in a decade she’d be spending her time in a remote villa south of the equator. “I’ve got some room, what’s up?”

  “We’ve got someone requesting a presentation Monday. They think it’s an emergency. For you, it’s standard stuff—out-of-control executive making his company look bad needs to learn how to act like an adult in public, that kind of stuff.”

  Monday didn’t give her much time to prepare, but she was used to bouncing with emergency clients. She had a sales pitch on standby that she could slide into without a problem. “I’m on board. Send me the info and I’ll be there.”

  “Already done.” The line went dead.

  Kenzie shrugged and flipped over to her email, scanning the guy’s basic profile. Scott McAllister. Chief technical officer and half owner of a successful international software company, public bad boy. Great, a geek who didn’t know how to hold himself around his peers. As long as he was pliable, the job would be easy.

  She clicked the email shut. She could read the rest later. This was a no-brainer job. She should really try and make amends with her sister and find out what happened the night before.

  Images and sensations still lingered on her skin from the stolen time in the stranger’s SUV. And maybe spend some more time dwelling on what had happened that morning.

  SCOTT PULLED TO A STOP at the red light. He flopped his head back onto the headrest, not able to shake his smile. Completely anonymous, completely hot, and surprisingly brilliant. He was going to be using that memory for a while, wishing business hadn’t interrupted the most fun he’d had with a woman in ages.

  His phone rang. Speaking of business and interruptions. That would be Zach’s fifth attempt to reach him in the last fifteen minutes. Time to face the music. He hit a button on his stereo, switching off the music and switching on the Bluetooth, hands-free system. “Hey.”

  “Care to tell me about Vegas?” Zach’s hollow growl filled the interior of the SUV.

  That had taken at least a day longer than it should have. Scott had been back in town since last night, and it had been at least thirty-six hours since the incident. Still there was no reason to fess up unless they were both thinking of the same thing. “You know what they sa—”

  “Wrong.” Zach cut him off. “I swear, if you say what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, you’re in charge of employee reviews for the next six months.”

  Scott’s mouth twisted in disappointment. It was an effective threat. “Lame. But fine. What did you hear?”

  “Uh uh.” A loud exhale filtered through the speakers. Zach was smoking. This was bad. Zach never smoked on phone calls. “You tell me what happened so I know if there’s shit that hasn’t hit the fan yet.”

  Scott sighed and tucked away the mental images of coffee-shop woman for use later. “It wasn’t a big deal. I stopped by the Digital Media booth to see what they’ve got going on. One of the girls was friendly, so we chatted. She may or may not have slipped me her room key. How was I supposed to know their VP of marketing was tapping that? Besides, it wasn’t like I was going to.” She’d laughed at all his jokes, but he’d had serious doubts she’d understood them.

  Zach growled. “Tell me how this led to you pissing off one of our board members to the point he’s threatening your job.”

  Scott’s didn’t have to ask who. Hank Cartee wanted his job every other week. It wasn’t much of a threat. “I swear anyone watching thought the entire thing was staged. He insulted me, I insulted better. And maybe louder. Just like that dumb-ass game of theirs with the stupid-as-hell gangsters who all sound like Harvard graduates. What was I supposed to do, let him call me a hack and just walk away?”

  “Yes.” The single syllable was distinct. “You know how many eyes were there. How many people were watching.”

  Maybe that was why Hank had canceled their meeting after. Scott kept the thought to himself. “So?”

  “This is getting old, Scott.” Zach exhaled again, the breath echoing off the microphone. “The industry already thinks we’re a couple of incompetent kids who got lucky, and this isn’t helping. Hank is serious this time.”

  Scott snarled silently at the speakers, glad Zach couldn’t see him. Hank was serious every time. A forty-something trust-fund baby from California with a bigger stick up his ass than...

  Finishing the thought would just piss him off more, and he wanted to retain at least some of the buzz from coffee-shop girl. Still. The board was comprised of their investors—the reason they had enough cash to do what they did—so he should at least try and sound contrite. “I’m sorry.”

  “How sorry?” Something shifted in Zach’s tone.

  Scott hesitated; he was about to be manipulated. He might as well get it over with. “Very, very sorry. I know what Cartee has done for us.”

  “All right, I’ll accept that. You coming over tonight?”

  Scott glanced at the speaker spewing the disembodied voice, concern flooding through him. There was no way the conversation was over that easily. “As long as you’re not cooking.”

  “Well, Rae’s not. She’s prepping for a meeting with the board, showing them pretty numbers that remind them we’re not morons.”

  Double shit. Scott pulled into the parking garage beneath his building. “Are you done stretching this out yet?”

  “Not yet.” Zach’s smirk was almost visible over the phone. “You can sweat a little longer.”

  “I’m home. Tell me now, or I’m hanging up and pretending we never had this conversation.” Scott kept his voice even, making sure there was no room to misunderstand his threat.

  Zach sighed. “Here’s the deal. You already know no one else is siding with him.”

  No one ever sided with Hank’s calls to fire him, so why was Scott’s gut churning?

  “But a couple of the other board members are tired of this back and forth between the two of you, so they’ve got a proposal that’s meant to put an end to it.” Zach emphasized the words. “All you have to do is play along, and then they can tell Cartee you’re not a liability, and everyone can move on with their lives.”

  Scott’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you over-explaining yourself?”

  “We have to bring in someone to fix your public image.”

  “What? No.” Scott’s voice rose in volume, irritation searing through him. They wanted to do a publicity makeover on him? “I’m not letting some uptight asshole teach me how to act in public. I left that life behind for a reason. No. Fucking. Way.”

  “Listen.” Zach’s voice softened for the first time since he’d called. “I know. I’d say I’m sorry, but you brought this on yourself. You already know this shit, so play nice until it’s over, and we’ll be all right.”

  “Whatever.” He had no intention of doing so.

  “Promise me you’ll at least pretend you’re going along with this for whomever we hire.” A hint of pleading wove into Zach’s voice.

  “Yeah, I promise.” Scott disconnected the call without further formality. He slammed the side of his fist against the steering wheel, biting back a scream of frustration. The one thing in the entire world that could send his aggravation soaring was someone telling him how to do his job.

  When his parents had divorced almost a
decade ago, he’d jumped on the chance to break away from exactly that. It was the perfect opportunity to cash out his college fund, which gave him the spring board he needed to finally get his company off the ground and prove to investors he was worth their time. It had also meant for the first time in his life his father didn’t own a controlling share of his social and public presence.

  And now he was going to have a board-appointed shadow stepping in to play that role of say what people want to hear, not what you want to say. Fuck.

  Chapter Three

  Kenzie stepped off the silent elevator. A wall of glass stared back at her, the frosted name RINSLET telling her she was in the right place. A black-lacquered desk was visible from the hallway, and the leather chairs and coffee table in the front lobby of the office matched.

  The girl behind the desk looked up and smiled as Kenzie approached. The receptionist was a stark contrast to her surroundings, in jeans and a baggy tee that hid any figure she might have had. “Good morning, can I help you?”

  Kenzie didn’t know what to think of the place, but she kept her confusion off her face. “I’m Mackenzie Carter, I have an eleven a.m. appointment with Mr. Johnston and Mr. McAllister.”

  “Of course.” The brunette gestured toward the seats. “Someone should be right with you.”

  Kenzie perched on the edge of one of the overstuffed chairs, not wanting to sink in and have her pencil skirt slide up. The personalized snippets of her presentation skipped through her thoughts. She had printouts in her bag in case she needed paper visuals, her laptop was ready to hook up to a projector if they had one, and she knew her pitch backward and forward.

  She crossed her legs and drummed her fingers on her knees, letting her attention trip around the room. Not that there was much to see. Prints that were mostly primary colors hung in black squares on white walls. The screaming coming from somewhere deep within the office was interesting. She wasn’t sure if it was cheering or cussing. Or both.