Any Way You Want It (13 page)

Chapter Twelve

T
hat evening Remy met his brothers for drinks at their favorite sports bar and grill on the South Side, just minutes from the rough neighborhood they’d once called home.

Even though they’d moved on to greener pastures and become successful in their own right, they’d never forgotten the hardscrabble days of their childhood, when crime and violence had plagued their block, and their parents had scraped and struggled to feed and clothe six children. They’d never forgotten who they were and where they came from.

So when Remy walked into the South Side pub and was greeted boisterously by the owner, he felt right at home.

He sidled up to the bar, and without being asked, Donnie poured him a tap beer. Sipping from the foamy glass, Remy spent a few minutes shooting the shit with the burly, bald-headed owner while ESPN highlights blared from a plasma television mounted in the corner, and the mouthwatering aroma of baking pizza wafted through the air. When it came to deep-dish, Donnie served up some of the best in town.

The bar’s dark wood walls were covered with newspaper clippings and Chicago sports memorabilia. There were old baseball tickets, vintage photos of Comiskey Park, autographed jerseys from various Sox, Bears and Bulls players—most notably Frank Thomas, Walter Payton and Michael Jordan.

After Donnie topped off Remy’s beer, he got up and sauntered toward the back, where his brothers sat around their regular table swigging beers and cracking jokes. They were in shirtsleeves, sporting five o’clock shadows and the broad, wicked grins that left no doubt they were all related.

They’d saved Remy an empty chair facing the door, because they knew he never sat with his back to the entrance of any establishment. Even though he’d been out of the navy for three years, he still did a mental headcount of other diners upon entering a restaurant. He still noted the number and location of windows, still checked for things like thick tables for absorbing shrapnel or bullets. He always had to know where the rear exits were, and he never left home without packing heat. But if he was going to see Zandra, he’d usually leave his weapon in the car, because even though he’d taught her how to shoot, the sight of guns still made her uneasy.

“Fellas.” Remy grabbed the vacant chair, turned it around and nimbly straddled it. “What’re we talking about?”

Royce drawled humorously, “I was just telling Rod to enjoy having all the sex he can with Lena, because once the baby gets here—”

“—he’s in for a serious drought,” River cracked.

As the two brothers laughed, Remy grinned at Roderick, remembering how excited he’d been when Rod called a few days ago to tell him that Lena was pregnant. He wasn’t ashamed to admit that hearing the emotion in his twin brother’s voice had gotten him choked up.

Roderick chuckled, shaking his head at Royce and River. “Why do you clowns assume that having a baby will put an end to my sex life? It sure as hell didn’t hurt Mom and Dad’s, unless you think they got six kids by osmosis.”

At the mere thought of their parents having sex, the brothers groaned in laughing disgust, which made Roderick grin with satisfaction.

“Point taken,” Royce conceded.

“Definitely,” Remy agreed.

River grinned, swigging his beer. “We were just teasing you anyway. As hot as Lena is, you’d be crazy to let anything keep you from hitting that every night. I know
I
wouldn’t.”

Roderick chuckled. “Watch it now. That’s my wife you’re talking about.”

“Only because you met her first.”

“Please,” Roderick snorted. “Lena wouldn’t have given you the time of day.”

But she would have been in the minority. With his dark good looks and cocky swagger, River Brand had women eating out of the palm of his hand. He was the youngest of his siblings, and the one least likely to ever settle down.

Leaning back in his chair, Royce hitched his chin toward River. “I’ve been meaning to ask what’s going on between you and Lena’s sister.”

River frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Well, the way you were putting the moves on her in St. Lucia, I just figured you two would be dating by now.”

“Nah,” River said dismissively. “We were just having fun, passing time. Besides, Morgan’s not really my type.” At Royce’s raised brow, he elaborated, “I mean, don’t get me wrong. She has a great personality and a pretty face. But she’s, like, a size zero. And you guys know I prefer my women with more meat on their bones. We all do.”

Royce, Roderick and Remy looked at one another, then broke into wide, knowing grins and chorused, “She turned him down.”

River scowled. “She didn’t turn me down.”

“Uh-huh,” the others laughingly mocked. “Yeah, sure.”

River’s scowl darkened. “Only because she’s already seeing someone. Some dude named Isaac.”

“Isaiah,” Roderick corrected. “His name’s Isaiah. He and Morgan have been dating off and on for the past few months. You would have met him at the wedding, but he had to go out of town on business.”

River shot him a dark look. “It would have been nice if you’d told me that
before
we went to St. Lucia.”

Royce snorted a laugh. “As if that would have stopped you from hitting on her.”

“It might have.” River gulped down more beer, smacked his lips and shrugged a broad shoulder. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Like I said, she’s not my type.”

Trading amused glances with Royce and Roderick, Remy drawled, “Methinks the boy doth protest too much.”

As they laughed, River smirked and gave them the finger.

When the humorous moment passed, Roderick said casually to Royce, “Yesterday when I spoke to Robyn, she mentioned that Daphne was upset because she wasn’t invited to St. Lucia. Is that true?”

Royce grimaced, a muscle tightening in his jaw. “Unfortunately, it is.”

“Are you serious?” River demanded incredulously. “Why the hell should she have been invited? Ever since the divorce, she’s barely wanted anything to do with our family.”

“Except, apparently, when it comes to taking all-expenses-paid trips to the Caribbean,” Remy said sardonically.

Roderick sipped his beer, then calmly set the glass down on the table. “As Lena and I explained to everyone, the trip to St. Lucia was our way of thanking all of you for your love and support. Now, Royce, I know you were married to Daphne and she’s the mother of your two children, whom I adore. But I don’t consider her a member of this family anymore, and I make no apologies for that.”

“Nor should you have to,” Royce grimly agreed. “Daphne had no right to complain to Robyn, and I’m sorry you had to hear about it. I’ll talk to her.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. You’re not responsible for Daphne’s petty behavior.” Roderick grinned. “Besides, she already got an earful from Robyn.”

The four brothers chuckled at the thought of their big sister reading Daphne the riot act. Robyn had always been fiercely protective of her family. It was well-known that anyone who harmed a member of the Brand clan would invariably incur the wrath of Mama Bear Robyn.

“Speaking of getting an earful,” River drawled, grinning lasciviously at Remy, “when are we gonna talk about all that moaning and groaning I heard coming from Zandra’s hotel room in St. Lucia? Either she hooked up with one of those cabana boys who were checking her out—or you finally got your prayers answered.”

Heat crawled up Remy’s neck as his brothers stared expectantly at him, their eyes gleaming with salacious curiosity. He hadn’t told any of them—not even Roderick—that he and Zandra had become lovers, because she’d asked him not to.

So he looked River in the eye and said with a straight face, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

As a roar of incredulous groans went around the table, he grinned.

“C’mon, Rem,” River complained. “How’re you gonna hold out on us like that? Haven’t we been nothing but supportive of your secret crush on Zandra?”

“Secret crush?”
Remy scoffed. “Fug outta here. How old do you think I am?”

Royce chuckled. “You’ve spent the past two years secretly pining away for your childhood friend. What would
you
call it? A discreet longing?”

Remy scowled as his brothers hooted with laughter. When he leveled a glare at his twin, Roderick only laughed harder.

Shaking his head in amused defeat, Remy drank his beer.

“You know,” Royce said, eyes glinting as he stroked his trim goatee, “I’ve been giving this some more thought.”

“What’s that?” Roderick asked.

“Well, I think our dear brother here has been in love with Za-Za a
helluva
lot longer than a couple years. Hold on,” he added when Remy opened his mouth to protest. “Hear me out.”

Roderick grinned. “
I’m
all ears.”

Royce sat forward. “Do you remember Zandra’s prom night? Remember you and Remy were home from college, and Robyn and Mom had gone to Zandra’s grandmother’s house to help her get ready? So we decided to head over there to meet her prom date, give him the talk, etcetera, etcetera.”

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

O
n 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.”

Duke frowned. “What accent?”

Remy snorted out a laugh. He was a native Chicagoan, and even
he
thought Duke had the thickest damn accent he’d ever heard. He dropped consonants and flattened vowels so hard that words like “hockey” and “socks” became “hackey” and “sacks.”

Remy shook his head at him. “Just lose it, all right?”

“If you insist.” Duke perused the contents of the folder. “So let me get this straight. You want me to investigate an
escort agency?
”

Remy nodded, guilt gnawing his insides.

Duke frowned. “With all due respect, I didn’t realize this is the kind of undercover work we’re doing here.”

“It’s not,” Remy grimly admitted. “This is more of a...personal favor.”

Duke studied him, blue eyes narrowed with speculation.

Remy offered no more.

“There’s a lot of information here,” Duke noted, holding up the folder. “Can’t I just call up the agency and ask for a girl?”

Remy grimaced. “It’s not that simple. The owner runs background checks on all prospective clients.”

Duke raised a brow. “Suspicious much?”

“Smart. Very smart. That’s why she’s the best in the business, and her escorts are first-rate.”

“Yeah?” Duke suddenly looked interested. “How first-rate?”

Remy sketched an hourglass with his hands, kissed his fingertips.
“Bellissima.”

Duke grinned. “This is sounding better and better. How many girls are there?”

“Nine.” Zandra hadn’t found a replacement for Lena yet.

Duke’s eyes widened. “You want me to go out with
nine
different women?”

Remy cocked an amused brow. “Is that a problem?”

“Not at all,” Duke drawled, grinning wickedly. “I’m sure I can handle it.”

Remy chuckled. He knew that Duke, like any Navy SEAL, had enjoyed his fair share of attention from groupies—aka frog hogs—who hung around military bases and bars hoping to pick up a SEAL. Remy wasn’t particularly proud of the fact that he’d woken up many mornings neck-deep in tits and asses after a wild threesome or, on occasion, foursome.

“How am I gonna explain wanting to go out with
all
of the escorts?” Duke asked.

“When you set up the date,” Remy explained, “you’re going to be asked some interview questions. Just explain that you’re new in town, looking to meet new people and make new friends. And hint that you’re tired of being a bachelor, and you’re thinking about settling down.”

Duke raised a brow. “You’re telling me to make them think that I’m auditioning for a wife?”

“Basically.” Remy smiled wryly. “Believe me, they’ve heard everything under the sun. And when you’ve got moronic reality shows on television, it’s not a stretch for anyone to believe that a rich, good-looking guy would want to test-drive a bunch of women to find his soul mate.”

Duke chuckled, rubbing his stubble-roughened jaw. “But what if the girls talk and compare notes?”

Remy grinned. “Then I guess you’d better give them something good to talk about. But not
too
good,” he added warningly. “You’re not supposed to get laid, Gannon. You’re going undercover to see if any of the escorts will try to have sex with you.”

Duke made a face, shaking his head. “It’s really gonna fuck up my ego if none of them do.”

“I’m hoping they won’t,” Remy said grimly.

His date with Noelani had produced mixed results. It was clear that she’d been attracted to him. What
wasn’t
clear was whether she’d have allowed things to go further if he didn’t have feelings for Zandra.

Duke frowned at him. “Why me? Why did
I
get stuck with this job?”

Remy grinned. “Have you seen some of the other men who work for me? Rough-looking motherfuckers who’d probably scare the bejesus out of those poor girls. Sorry, but you’re the only pretty face I’ve got around here.”

Duke scowled. “Gee, thanks.”

“Hey, don’t blame me. Blame genetics.”

Duke glowered another moment, then heaved a resigned breath and muttered, “Fuck it. You wanna pay me to go out on dates with a bunch of hot chicks? Suit yourself.”

“Your gratitude is overwhelming,” Remy said dryly.

Duke gave him the finger, and Remy laughed. Working with these men was almost like being part of a platoon again.

As Duke rose to leave, Remy told him, “Do a good job on this one, and I’ll put you on the Norwegian op.”

Duke’s eyes sparked with interest. “Norwegian?”

Remy nodded. “Hot extract. Off the grid. We’ll take a submarine to get there.”

Duke’s face lit up, as Remy had expected. Uncle Sam may have declared him unfit for duty, but Duke was a warrior. Once a warrior, always a warrior.

“Hooyah!”

Remy grinned. “Hell, yeah.”

After Duke left, Remy decided to tackle some of the paperwork on his desk.

Moments later, Mona announced cheerfully from the open doorway, “You have a visitor.”

He glanced up.

At the sight of Zandra standing behind his assistant, he felt a surge of pleasure, followed by a jolt of alarm.

Duke had just left his office. Had Zandra passed him in the hallway?

“Hi.” She smiled hesitantly. “Is this a bad time?”

“For you? Never.” Remy stood, came around the desk and crossed the room to greet her. As Mona stepped aside, he wrapped his arms around Zandra and hauled her close, savoring the honeysuckle scent of her hair and the luscious warmth of her body. She clung to him, pressing her face into his chest, and he wondered if she was as happy to see him as he was to see her.

Drawing back reluctantly, he kissed her forehead and smiled into her eyes. “Hey, you.”

“Hey, yourself.”

Her hair was scooped back into a high ponytail. She wore a pink T-shirt, a fitted denim skirt and flat sandals. She looked fresh and wholesome. She looked like the Zandra of his youth.

His chest swelled as they stood there staring and smiling at each other.

“I’ll just leave you two alone,” Mona said, her voice laced with knowing amusement. She’d always liked Zandra, so she never gave her a hard time about showing up unannounced—which Zandra didn’t do often enough, as far as Remy was concerned.

As Mona closed the door behind her, Zandra asked, “Are you sure I’m not disturbing you?”

She really had no idea, did she? “Positive.”

She smiled. “Good.”

He watched as she brushed past him and strolled across the room, ponytail swinging from side to side. She walked around his desk, sat down in the chair and propped her feet up on the corner, her skirt riding up her thighs just enough to make him salivate. As she crossed her silky legs at the ankles, Remy cocked his head to one side, angling for a better view.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you trying to look up my skirt?”

He gave her a look of sham innocence. “Of course not.”

“Better not be.”

He grinned. He loved seeing her like this, all sparkling eyes and flushed cheeks. He knew, even without asking, that she’d just come from the cultural center where she volunteered several hours a week, working with disadvantaged youth through a community arts program.

Remy sauntered over, rounded the desk and perched a hip on the corner. “How’d everything go today?”

“Wonderful.” She beamed. “Those kids are
amazing,
Remy. So gifted. So much raw potential.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah. You should see some of their work. One boy drew a picture of the Buckingham Fountain that was so good, it ought to be a postcard.”

Remy smiled. “Impressive.”

“
Very
impressive.” Her soft smile held a trace of sorrow. “My mother would have loved working with these kids.”

“I bet,” Remy murmured.

Autumn Kennedy had been an elementary school art teacher and a tremendously talented artist. Her death had devastated Zandra. She hadn’t been the same since, and sometimes Remy worried that she never would be.

As he watched, she leaned her head back against the chair and sighed.

“What’s up, baby girl?”

She hesitated. “I’m thinking about changing my last name.”

Remy was surprised. “Really?”

She nodded.

“Why?”

A shadow crossed her face before she shrugged. “No particular reason.”

Remy didn’t believe her.

After another moment, she said almost defensively, “It’d be one thing if I were close to my father. But I’m not, so there’s no reason for me to keep his name. Honestly, I don’t know why I never changed it before.”

Remy swallowed at the sudden tightness in his throat. “Well,” he said carefully, “why don’t you just wait until you...you know, get married.”

Zandra snorted. “
That
won’t be happening anytime soon.”

Remy winced, her words plunging a dagger through his heart.

Oblivious to his reaction, she reached across his desk and picked up the small rubber frog she’d sent to him when he became a SEAL. She’d enclosed a card with the message,
A frog for the new frogman. May you keep each other safe.

The simple gift had meant more to him than anything he’d ever received before. His teammates had joked that it was his good luck charm, because he’d carried it in the left breast pocket of his uniform, close to his heart.

He watched as Zandra absently toyed with the rubber frog, lost in thought.

“What’s on your mind?” he gently probed.

Her eyes lifted to his. “I’ve been thinking about going somewhere.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t really decided.” She sighed, setting down the frog. “I know we just returned from St. Lucia, and it was wonderful. But I guess I wouldn’t mind taking another trip, just to get a change of scenery.”

“Funny you should say that.”

“Why?”

“Because I have to travel to London next week. I’ve been invited to speak and serve as a panelist at an international conference for private security service providers.”

“Really? That’s wonderful, Remy.”

He made a face. “You know I’m not big on public speaking, but I figure my attendance will be good for business.” He paused. “I was going to ask you to go with me.”

“To London?”

“No. The moon.” He chuckled. “Of course London. Go with me.”

Her expression turned wary. “I don’t know.”

“Come on. You haven’t been back to London in years, and I know how much you loved living there when you were at Oxford.”

A soft, reminiscent smile touched her mouth. “I did. And I always enjoy visiting whenever I can.”

“So come with me,” Remy cajoled. “We’ll have fun, and you can show me some of your old hangouts.”

He could tell the idea appealed to her. But she wavered, tugging her lush lower lip between her teeth.

“Let me think about it and get back to you.”

Remy swallowed his disappointment. “Fair enough. In the meantime—”

She let out a squeak of surprise as he suddenly scooped her out of the chair and into his arms, then sat down and pulled her onto his lap. The lush curve of her ass sent an instant rush of heat to his groin.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded teasingly.

He nipped her ear. “Reclaiming my chair, woman.”

She giggled, reaching across the desk and picking up the remote control to the hologram schematics. “What’s this?” she asked curiously.

“Nothing for you to worry about,” Remy murmured, smoothly plucking the device out of her hand.

“Ooh. Sounds top secret.”

“It is. If you saw it, I’d have to kill you.”

She looked over her shoulder at his face. “That’s not funny.”