Any Way You Want It (Brand Clan #2)(75)
They came together, long and hard, for what seemed like hours.
It was breathtakingly intense. A spiritual bonding.
When it was over she fell forward onto his chest, gasping and shivering.
He cupped the back of her head and kissed her, unleashing years of pent-up emotion and longing upon her mouth. He kissed her until she was breathless and trembling, until she had to draw back and gasp for air.
Framing her face between his hands, he gazed deep into her eyes and whispered fiercely, “I love you.”
Her eyes softened with tears. “I love you, too, Remy.”
He stared up at her, afraid to believe he’d heard wrong.
So she repeated herself. “I love you.”
His heart soared.
“Zandra,” he said, his voice husky with emotion, “you have no idea how long I’ve dreamed of hearing you say that.”
Surprise flickered in her eyes. “Really?”
“Really.” He swallowed tightly. “I’ve been in love with you for...a long time.”
She gazed wonderingly at him. “How long?”
“Very long.”
A smile quivered on her lips. “That’s...funny.”
“Why?”
“Because I think I’ve been in love with you for a pretty long time myself.”
“Really?” he whispered.
She nodded slowly. “Really.”
They stared at each other.
Then Remy groaned and crushed his mouth to hers, and this time she kissed him back just as hard, just as desperately. As he rolled her onto her back, she wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him like she never wanted—or planned—to let go.
Remy vowed right then and there to tell her the truth about his secret investigation. As soon as they returned home, he’d come clean with her.
And then he’d do everything in his damn power to convince her to spend the rest of her life with him.
Chapter Twenty
If Zandra had had an inkling of the powder keg that awaited her back in Chicago, she would have insisted on remaining in London.
She should have insisted anyway. She and Remy had been having such a wonderful time together, she hadn’t wanted to come home.
On the day they returned, they still couldn’t get enough of each other. Remy drove Zandra home from the airport and carried her luggage inside, then wound up spending the night. They’d made love into the wee hours of the next morning and slept in late, spooned like perfect halves.
When Remy left around noon, promising to return that evening for dinner, Zandra took a hot shower and put on a halter top and jeans. She’d considered going into the office for a few hours, then changed her mind. She’d left the agency in Christine’s capable hands, so there was no need for her to rush back.
Grabbing her iPad so that she could catch up on emails, Zandra made her way to the living room and turned on the television. She surfed disinterestedly through channels before settling on the noon news.
She’d just opened her email app when the newscaster announced, “In breaking developments this afternoon, just one week after announcing his bid for mayor, City Alderman Landis Kennedy has already run into a buzz saw that has his campaign in full damage control mode.”
Zandra’s head snapped up as the anchor continued speaking. “Kennedy’s political troubles began when sources revealed that his daughter, Zandra Kennedy, is the owner of a local escort agency named Elite For You Companions. Miss Kennedy, who’s been in business for five years, is considered something of a power broker on Chicago’s arts scene, sought by many for her fundraising prowess.”
Zandra froze, watching as photos of her at various functions flashed across the television screen.
“But raising money for charitable causes might not be Miss Kennedy’s only passion,” the news anchor continued with amused glee. “At a recent museum gala, Kennedy was spotted leaving a restroom with a man identified as powerful CEO Remington Brand.”
The blood drained from Zandra’s head as a picture of her and Remy filled the screen. Remy was adjusting his tie while Zandra glanced furtively around, making sure the coast was clear. Her flushed face and Remy’s satisfied grin left no doubt what they’d just been doing.
“Oh, my God,” Zandra whispered, her cheeks burning with humiliation at the thought of some photographer skulking in the shadows, waiting to snap the perfect scandal shot of her and Remy.
“If hooking up for tawdry trysts in public bathrooms is Miss Kennedy’s idea of a good time,” the snarky anchor intimated, “one can only imagine how her escorts entertain clients.”
Another wave of hot shame swept over Zandra. Forking shaky fingers through her hair, she could only watch in a daze of unreality as her world was turned upside down.
When her cell phone rang, she grabbed the remote control and punched off the television. Her nerves instinctively tightened when she saw that the caller was Christine. Everything had been fine when she’d checked in with her receptionist yesterday, but she had a feeling that was about to drastically change.
“Sorry to be the bearer of bad news so soon after you’ve gotten home,” Christine began anxiously, “but I just thought you should know that within the past hour, three clients have called and canceled dates with escorts.”
“Shit.” Lunging from the sofa, Zandra began pacing up and down the floor. “Did they say why?”