The Pint-Sized Secret (4 page)

Maybe if she repeated that often enough between now and six-thirty, she wouldn’t even be tempted. But something told her it was going to be a wasted effort, especially if Jeb Delacourt had other ideas.

Which was exactly what she’d wanted, she reminded herself. She might want to make an impression on Max Coleman, but she needed to keep Jeb Delacourt’s mind strictly on business.

She turned away from the mirror just as the doorbell rang. Since it was barely six-ten, she doubted it was Jeb. She padded to the door in her stockinged feet and found a stranger on the doorstep.

“Yes?”

The man glanced down at a slip. “Brianna O’Ryan? That you?”

“Yes.”

He held out a large box and a form.

Brianna noted despondently that he didn’t even give her a second glance in her boring black gown. “Yes, but I’m not expecting—”

“Your name and address are on here. That’s what I go by,” he countered, and waited for her to sign.

She signed his form, accepted the box and went to get him a tip. When he had left, she stared at the box, then recognized the name of the consignment shop in discreet gold letters in the lower corner.

“What on earth?” she murmured, pulling off the lid, then unfolding layers of tissue paper. Her eyes widened when she saw the bronze dress nestled inside, along with a note.

Clutching the dress, she ripped open the note.

“I figured you’d be suffering pangs of regret about now and, if you aren’t, you should be,” Carly had written. “Enjoy.”

“I’m going to fire her,” Brianna muttered, even as she raced back to her room and changed into the killer dress. She sighed as she twirled in front of her mirror. “Then again, anyone who dares to defy the boss when she’s wrong ought to get a raise.” She took another excited survey of her image. “A really big raise.”

Unfortunately, he was having an equally difficult time concentrating. He had been ever since he’d arrived on her doorstep and caught his first glimpse of her in a dress that even Cinderella would have envied. His mouth had gone dry, and he’d been having difficulty swallowing ever since. Why had he never suspected that the beautiful Brianna was capable of bringing a man’s heart slamming to a halt? Because of his taunt, he’d fully expected her to be covered from head to toe in black, something discreet, something that wouldn’t have every male head in the room swiveling for another, longer look. Unless he was very careful, he was going to forget what this evening was all about.

In fact, he’d been so dumbstruck when she opened her door that he hadn’t even taken note of what little he could see of the interior of her small townhouse. His surprise at the modest community in which she lived had vanished in a sea of purely masculine appreciation.

Now he caught the speculative glances of some of his oldest and dearest bachelor friends and tightened his grip on Brianna possessively. This reaction was a very bad sign, he noted, forcing himself to take a step back and look Brianna directly in the eyes. Another mistake, he realized, when his throat went dry again.

“Having fun?” he managed to ask finally.

“I didn’t come to have fun,” she murmured, avoiding his gaze.

“What the heck,” he countered. “Have some anyway. It’s free.”

Her gaze swept the room again. “Where is Max Coleman? Shouldn’t he be here by now?”

“There are a thousand people crushed into this ballroom. I’m sure he’s here somewhere. If we keep dancing, we’re bound to bump into him.”

Brianna regarded him suspiciously. “He is going to be here, though, right? You’re sure of it.”

“That’s what I was told. Maybe we should take a break, get some champagne and you can tell me why he fired you.”

Even as she studied the crowd, she waved off his inquiry. “I’m sure you’ve seen the personnel records. It’s no big secret,” she said dismissively.

Actually Jeb
had
read the personnel file. It was almost as vague as Brianna herself was being now. “It wasn’t working out. I believe that’s what the file states. Was that it?”

She shrugged. “That about sums it up.”

“Max Coleman doesn’t strike me as a man prone to whims.”

For a fleeting moment her attention returned to him. “You’d have to ask him about that. One day I was working there, the next day, I wasn’t.”

“If your firing was that capricious, why didn’t you sue him?”

“Not my nature,” she said. “All I cared about was getting another job.” Her attention drifted yet again.

Jeb struggled to accept her response. It was so deliberately disingenuous, he almost wondered if Max hadn’t staged the firing just so she could be hired by his competitor, making her a well-placed spy for her old boss. So far, though, Coleman hadn’t been involved in any of the soured deals.

Besides which, Brianna genuinely seemed to despise the man. She might not have wanted to waste time and money taking him to court for wrongful dismissal, but she resented his actions just the same. That much was clear from the venom in her voice whenever she mentioned his name. Unless she was a better actress than Jeb imagined, her hatred was sincere.

“How about a little fresh air?” Jeb suggested when they had their champagne.

She cast one last, disappointed look around the room, then nodded. “Fine.”

Outside on the terrace, there was a soft breeze. The sky was brilliant with stars, competing with the lights of downtown Houston. But none of the scenery could hold a candle to the woman beside him. Jeb found himself wishing for the hundredth time that this were a real date, that he could take her in his arms and kiss her the way he’d been wanting to ever since he’d picked her up. Aware of just how inappropriate that would be on any number of levels, he held back. For a man reputed to have no scruples, now was a fine time for his to be kicking in.

He leaned back against the railing and sipped his champagne. “Tell me about your marriage,” he suggested idly.

Without the distraction of looking for Max, she was instantly suspicious. “Why?” she asked bluntly.

“Just making small talk, sweetheart. That’s what men and women do at these things.”

She shrugged off the explanation. “I wouldn’t know. I don’t spend a lot of time at charity balls.”

“Well, let me explain the rules, then. We eat a little, drink a little, dance when the mood strikes us, exchange pleasantries with people we know, chitchat with those we’d like to know better, gossip about the bad guys, network with business associates. Then we go home and crash, so we can do it all again tomorrow.”

“Two balls in one weekend?”

“Downright decadent, isn’t it?”

“Tedious.”

“Depends on your companion. Now something tells me you could relieve the tedium, if you’d just relax a little.”

“I am relaxed,” she protested.

She didn’t look it. She’d started looking uptight the instant he mentioned her ex-husband. In fact, she looked so thoroughly uncomfortable, so totally wary, that he couldn’t help himself. He forgot all about his resolve of moments ago and leaned forward and kissed her.

It was meant to be no more than a quick peck, something to startle her, maybe put a little color in her cheeks. But when she gasped softly, when her lips seemed to heat instantaneously, Jeb was lost. He dipped his head and kissed her again, longer this time, deeper, savoring the taste of cool champagne and hot Brianna. He lifted his hand, curved his fingers around her neck and felt the wild beating of her pulse beneath his thumb.

When he leaned back at last, she looked dazed. He felt as if he’d been sucker punched. The kiss wasn’t supposed to happen, but he’d kissed plenty of women without having his insides turn to mush. His reaction told him that this informal, unauthorized investigation of his had just gotten a whole lot more complicated.

Distance, that’s what he needed. Not physical, but emotional. He knew a surefire way to get it, too.

“Let’s try that again,” he suggested innocently, and caught the flare of color in her cheeks. Before her protest could form, he grinned. “Tell me about your marriage.”

Just as he’d anticipated, her expression closed down. “It didn’t work out,” she said evasively.

“Sort of like the job,” he countered, deliberately trying to provoke her with innuendo. “Are there a lot of things in your life that just don’t work out?”

“No more than the average person,” she retorted. “I just know when to cut my losses.” She gave him a hard once-over. “This seems like a good time to do that tonight.”

The suddenness and depth of her anger took him by surprise. She moved before he could stop her. Jeb watched her cross the terrace, spine stiff, shoulders square. The effect was lost a little when his gaze drifted lower and he saw the sway of slim hips encased in bronze. Damn, but she was something.

He followed her inside at a leisurely pace, so leisurely that he might have risked losing her in the throng if Max Coleman hadn’t chosen that moment to put in an appearance. Brianna was frozen in place, her face pale.

“You okay?” Jeb asked, moving up beside her.

Apparently she counted Jeb as the lesser of two evils, because she linked her arm through his and plastered a smile on her face. “Just peachy,” she announced. “I’ve been waiting for this chance for a long time. Since it’s the only reason I’m here tonight, let’s make the most of it.”

Jeb could have chosen to be insulted by the role he’d been cast in—second fiddle to revenge—but if it brought her back to his side, he was more than willing to go along with her. He wanted to see how she interacted with her old boss, see if he could glean any relevant information from their exchange.

Max Coleman had scrambled his way to the presidency of a small Houston-based oil conglomerate. He’d started in the fields, studied hard and been driven by blind ambition to reach the top. He wasn’t as polished as Bryce Delacourt, nor as handsome, but he presented a commanding figure, especially in a well-tailored tuxedo. His gaze settled on Brianna, then moved to Jeb.

If seeing her made Max uncomfortable, spotting his rival’s son made him downright nervous, but he covered both reactions quickly with a smile that only a close observer would recognize as fake.

“Brianna, my dear, you’re looking lovely tonight. How nice to see you here. Things must be going well for you.” He glanced pointedly at Jeb, as if to imply that he now knew why she was succeeding in the aftermath of his dismissal. “I had no idea that you and Jeb were so close.”

“First date,” Jeb retorted. “I needed the most beautiful woman in Houston on my arm tonight, so naturally I thought of Brianna. She’s become a very valuable asset to Delacourt Oil.” He hesitated ever so slightly. “And to me.”

Her startled gaze shot to his, as if she couldn’t believe the audacity of the remark. He winked at her, drawing her into the game.

“Yes, Brianna was always as interested in corporate benefits as she was in the challenges of her work,” Max said, then gave them both a curt nod and walked away.

Jeb stared after him, puzzling over the comment. It sounded like the embittered response of a man who’d been wronged in some way, but how? Had he made advances toward her and been spurned? Was her firing as simple as that, a sexual harassment case that she hadn’t had the will to fight?

Glancing down, he caught the bright red patches of color in her cheeks and realized that, whatever the man had meant, his comment had hit its mark.

“What was that all about?” Jeb asked.

“Just Max getting in the last blow,” she said. “I’d like to leave now, if you don’t mind.”

“I do mind,” he said, catching her off guard. “You can’t walk away in defeat. You need to show the man he can’t get to you.”

“How am I supposed to do that? Being here with you certainly backfired.”

“Darlin’, that was just the first volley.” He beckoned her toward the dance floor. “Now let’s show the man what you’re made of.”

A fast tune had just started, and Brianna stared at Jeb as if she’d never been on a dance floor before in her life. “I can’t.”

“You don’t know how? You don’t want to? Or what?”

“Dancing is not going to prove anything to Max Coleman,” she said, as if she pitied Jeb for being foolish enough to think otherwise.

For the moment Jeb forgot all about his secret mission for the evening and concentrated on hers. She looked vulnerable and defeated, and he was too much of a gentlemen to let that continue.

“Then you’re not doing it right,” he assured her, sweeping her into a dip that clearly left her dizzy. She was laughing by the time he brought her upright.

“Okay,” she said, the sparkle returning to her eyes. “Let’s do it.”

For the next three dances, they ruled the floor. The crowd parted to observe, cheering the intricate steps, applauding and begging for an encore when each song ended. Jeb caught Max’s expression as they whirled by him in one tempestuous sweep of the room. He looked as if he’d swallowed something particularly nasty.

Brianna caught his expression, too, then gazed up at Jeb. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I think our job here is done.”

Jeb nodded his agreement. “Let’s blow this place.”

She giggled like a schoolgirl and in that instant, Jeb felt himself falling for her. She tantalized him. He didn’t know her. He didn’t understand her secrets. He had no idea what made her tick.

Which meant he was going to have to keep seeing her, he concluded. Not that it was a hardship. She fit a little too neatly into his embrace. She smelled of some exotic scent that drove him a little bit crazy. He found himself wanting to kiss that graceful curve of her exposed neck.

None of that was supposed to happen, of course. Getting turned on by the subject of an investigation tended to cloud objectivity. He might not be the professional P.I. his brother was, but he knew that his current state of arousal was big trouble.

Still, he had no choice. Not if he was to save Delacourt Oil.

And maybe not even if he was to save himself.