Any Way You Want It (Brand Clan #2)(30)

Zandra glanced down at the table, surprised to see that their plate was empty. When had that happened?

Remy chuckled. “Time flies when you’re having fun.”

“Apparently so.” Zandra dragged her finger through a puddle of garlic sauce and licked it off, then sighed. “I’ll definitely have to ask Cora to add this to the rotation.”

“Hmm. Well, speaking of rotating...” Remy’s tongue swiped the shell of Zandra’s ear and she trembled, unintentionally squirming in his lap. His dick hardened, pushing against the cleft between her butt cheeks. As heat shot to her groin, she bit back a moan and picked up the empty plate.

“Time for dessert.”

Before Remy could grab her, she sprang from his lap and laughingly darted back inside the apartment.

He followed her, sauntering into the kitchen where she stood at the sink running water to wash the plate and fork. With his SEAL tattoo stretched over his thick biceps and his dark pants slung low on his hips, he looked so rakishly sexy that her knees went weak. And that was before he came up behind her, pressing her against the counter until she could feel the heat of his naked chest burning through her silk robe.

She swallowed tightly. “I took the tart out of the fridge before dinner,” she told him, her voice breathy. “It can be served cold, but I prefer room temperature.”

“That’s fine,” Remy murmured against her neck, sending sensual shivers down her spine, “but I already told you what I want for dessert.”

She trembled as he slowly dragged her robe up her bare thighs. “Cora went to the trouble—”

“Oh, we can have the tart. Strawberry, right?”

Zandra gave a jerky nod.

“Good. I like strawberries.” Sucking her earlobe, he reached between her thighs and touched her drenched, throbbing sex. “Mmm. All this cream. More than enough to drizzle over some plump strawberries.”

Zandra whimpered as he stroked her hard clit while grinding his erection against her ass.

He whispered in her ear, “I’m gonna lay you down on this countertop, spread your legs wide open and eat those strawberries right out of your sweet, dripping *.”

Zandra groaned, the plate clattering into the sink as she lost her grip. “Remy—”

The sudden blast of a phone made her jump.

Remy tensed against her, swearing under his breath.

After a few moments, he reluctantly pulled his hand out from beneath her robe and stalked over to the center island, where he’d left his cell phone earlier. He picked it up and checked the caller ID. Although his expression betrayed nothing, Zandra instinctively sensed that the caller was someone he didn’t want to speak to in her presence.

Which meant it was probably a woman.

He glanced at Zandra. “Be right back.”

She nodded, watching as he turned and strode from the kitchen. Moments later she heard the balcony doors open and close, and she frowned.

If Remy felt the need to step outside to take the call, it had to be a woman. Why else would he require such privacy?

Don’t jump to conclusions, a small voice reasoned. He could be discussing work. Given the sensitive nature of his profession, it’d make perfect sense for him to want privacy to speak to an employee or a client. You of all people should understand that. Besides, why should it matter if he’s talking to one of his bimbos? He doesn’t belong to you any more than you belong to him.

Gritting her teeth, Zandra finished washing the plate and fork, then stood there debating whether to cut into the strawberry tart or put the damn thing back into the refrigerator.

She still hadn’t decided by the time Remy returned to the kitchen carrying the bottle of wine and the glass they’d shared over dinner.

“Sorry about that,” he murmured.

“No problem.” Zandra strove for aloofness. “Is everything okay?”

He nodded, setting down the bottle and empty glass.

She hesitated, then couldn’t resist asking casually, “Who was on the phone?”

Pause. “Work.”

Though Remy had always been frighteningly adept at hiding his emotions, Zandra knew him well enough to detect when he was lying.

He was lying now.

As a knot of jealousy unfurled inside her, she walked over and picked up the covered glass dish containing the strawberry tart.

Remy frowned, watching as she shoved the dessert back inside the refrigerator. “What’re you doing? I thought we were gonna eat that.”

“Not anymore.”

“Why not?”

“It’s late,” she said curtly, “and I need to be up early.”

His eyes narrowed on her face.

She stared back defiantly.

After another moment, he nodded slowly. “All right.”

His acquiescence further incensed her, confirming her suspicion that he’d been talking to another woman. A woman who was probably waiting for him this very moment.

As he turned and left the kitchen, Zandra followed him, her bare feet slapping against the hardwood floor.

She watched as he crossed to the chair where they’d made love and picked up his shirt, which she’d folded and draped neatly over the back. His muscles flexed as he shrugged into the ruined shirt, then sat down and shoved his feet into those humongous combat boots he’d worn with his suit—a look only he could pull off.